Connecting Coaches, Creatives, & Curious Folks through what's emerging in this moment

Posts tagged ‘life coach’

Deathwatch and Mediporn

cosmic-eyeI’m dying. Every day I’m a day closer to being dead. Cells die off constantly throughout my body. And if I’m lucky and intentional enough about it, old habits, rules, ideas, and useless behaviors die along with those cells.

I’m being born. Every day, new cells in me are created. Every day new life emerges in this very body bringing me more alive all the time. New ideas emerge, new thoughts, relationships, and neural pathways are born bringing me ever closer to the Light we all strive for.

I’m living. Each day that my heart is beating, my lungs are doing their job, and the neurons keep firing; I am living. Each moment that I seek new learning, share with others, or engage in anything that lights my fire – I am very, very ALIVE.

Which part of me are you going to interact with? The dying part? The being created anew part? Or the living part? They all matter. They all have relevance… a particular role to play in this cycle of Life.

When I asked my client today, “What are the conversations you’re avoiding?” he replied with, “I don’t talk to people who are on deathwatch any more.” When I asked him to elaborate he described those people who don’t know how to deal with the fact his illness is terminal, they don’t know how to relate to him as a living being, but rather because they’re so distressed by the idea they’ll lose him one day and that they won’t know how to handle that themselves; they seem to be just waiting for him to die. They’re on deathwatch.

When time is in short supply, and the energy one has to share with any given person in a day is limited, the last thing someone who is dancing with an illness needs is to be the caretaker in a conversation – the one making it okay for everyone else that they happen to be dying a little faster than the rest of us probably are.

I asked if he was tired of people resorting to asking for report outs about his current physical state. After chatting about how we all tend to let our curiosity be about ailments, effects of medication, and have an incessant need to know why this or that happened, he blurted out “Mediporn!” (more…)

People Don’t Change – An Optimistic Viewpoint

My new theory:
People don’t ever really change, and that’s exactly as it should be!

If you’re a coach or client, you may think I’m crazy to type that out loud.  You may be grimacing at your computer, coming up with loads of examples that prove me wrong.  You stand by to feverishly defend your websites that boast magical abilities to support clients in living into their potential.  We are, after all, in the business of evoking transformation, aren’t we?  If so, how can this be true?

Last month, I got to hang out with my mother and three of her childhood friends.  For 10 days I didn’t really talk to anyone under the age of 83.  These are 4 very accomplished, out-spoken, well-educated, liberal, fun women.  I was the Sherpa and chauffeur on their annual reunion trip, this time to the Florida Keys.  Throughout our trip,  I felt I could see them across time at ages like 4, 8, 13, 19, 26, 35, 47, 56, 64, 72, and now in their 80s.  I could see how, though hips and bits may get replaced, some things truly never change.  Best of all, I could see how GREAT that is! (more…)

Slaying the Dragons

Anyone can slay a dragon… but try waking up every morning and loving the world all over again. That’s what takes a real hero. ~ Brian Andreas

Since those close to me and I first started talking about doing a fundraiser to help with my overwhelming medical costs, I’ve talked about ‘pulling the trigger on this fundraising thing’.  I hadn’t given much thought to the language I was using until a friend posted the above quote on facebook this morning.  What was I aiming at? What was I planning to shoot with my trigger finger?   It seems I have a dragon to slay and a beautiful, hand-engraved invitation to ‘wake up every morning loving the world all over again’.

Let me back up a bit.  For those of you have followed my journey, you may recall that when I was on the ventilator I had a clear opportunity to lay my burdens down and choose the ultimate peace that I could sense filled the space behind death’s door, or to choose to climb back up that long ladder into a life that was much less certain, and potentially full of much more pain and struggle than what beckoned there at the edge of being and non-being.  My memories of my journey in that unconscious state are filled with metaphorical dragon-slaying.  I was fighting my darkest demons.  Truth is, I’m not even sure yet what those demos were… I just know they scared me so much I was very tempted to give up just to make it stop.

When I did choose life, I came back into a world that showered me with love from the farthest edges of the globe all the way into the circle of friends and family closest to me.  My very most inner circle saw me in my darkest hours.  I think the darkness that still haunted me was working like a shadow cast on my nearest and dearest and it brought out some of their demons too.  Some of it was physiological as I was dealing with some PTSD type flashback stuff, a bit of depression, anxiety, and was in a very fragile physical state, yet some of it was my doubts about choosing this challenging world we live in over the ultimate peace I sensed I could have had.  How do you help someone in that state?  Do you make them tea?  Do their laundry?  Do you just leave them alone and hope it goes away?  What about when they’re awful to you?  Do you forgive them?  Do you use it as evidence for your worst thoughts about them?  That may seem harsh  – yet when dragons are around and the slayers exhausted and hungry, they aren’t always on their best behavior and don’t always act rationally, reasonably, or kindly.  I know I didn’t. (more…)

Grace Period

On a journey of transformation, there are many stages along the way.  Yesterday I entered a stage I’m thinking of as my ‘Grace Period‘.  In the 2 days before yesterday, so many things came to an end, had been completed enough for now, or just let go of.  The build up to that time was so very stressful — not knowing how to do things, deadlines looming, hair falling out, and feeling held in the balance of so many unknowns.

It seemed like it happened all at once.  I figured out how to do things ‘enough’ that I could meet some critical deadlines.  I cut my hair off and had it both confirmed that it was indeed falling out at a rapid pace, AND that there was a half-inch of new growth coming in.  (Yay!) I sent my blood off to a lab for analysis to see if anything besides the trauma of March’s illness was causing the hair loss.  With all these ends tied enough, I hopped on my bike and felt completely liberated!  As I rode along Lake Superior I thought ‘this is my grace period’.  This is that time in between yesterday and tomorrow where everything feels exactly right and perfect as it is. (more…)

Prisoner of my hairdo

It turns out that when one becomes seriously ill for a spell (or has a baby) one of the after effects can be having your hair fall out.  (Bummer, I say!)  For a few weeks now, I’ve been shedding worse than our old Norwegian Elkhound used to shed in springtime.  When the weather warmed up, and she could no longer find a little patch of snow to lie upon, we would go out and pluck the dog.  My daughter has become a ‘mother plucker’ as she keeps my hair from landing in our dinners night after night.  Birds nests around my mother’s condo are being woven by the bread bags full of hair I bring to put near her feeders.  All this while I become closer and closer to being bald.  Turns out, I’ve been a prisoner of my hairdo all these years.

Back in the ’80s, I chopped off my long hair and got short mullet-ish thing with hair shaved close on the sides, spiky on top, and a bit shaggy in back.  Hideous, really.  After being sheared and styled, my glass blowing partner (whom I had worked with day after day in the studio) stopped me to ask if he could help me, as if I were a stranger.  When I told him who I was he had to look carefully to recognize me.  Apparently, Christine Lavin was right about us prisoners – if we cut our hair, no one will recognize us anywhere.

Today, being a prisoner of my hairdo is much less about fearing I won’t be recognized.  As my hair falls out strand-by-strand, my ego… my vanity… my Leo the lion’s mane… (more…)

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