I have a confession to make – I have a life coach. I know, I know, it sounds very ‘today’, but the truth is this isn’t new for me… I’ve had a life coach for years. Long before it became ‘popular’ or considered ‘hip’ to discuss over coffee. In fact, I had a life coach before there was even a term to define the relationship.
My life coach does everything you would expect one to do – she helps me transform my life, guides me spiritually, offers me solace when I am adrift with grief, shines a light into the darkness, encourages me to be all that I can be, celebrates my successes and even laughs at my jokes. Above all else, my life coach helps me lead a truly exceptional life.
My life coach doesn’t, however, make me do homework or have me sit quietly under a tree until the answer appears. Although, that said, there was a time when, as a solution to my restlessness, she would recommend that I “run down to the bridge and back”. Which as strange as it seems, always worked. Somewhere between home and the bridge, inspiration would strike and I would find myself cutting a path through my doubts to the next adventure. It was on one of these many runs, to one of the many bridges I have lived near over the past forty plus years, that I also realised I enjoyed running.
My relationship with my life coach might seem a little unorthodox from the outside. For instance, we never make appointments, and although it might sound as though I am taking advantage of her generosity to just lob up and expect her counsel, I think it works for us. Without an appointment book between us, we are unrestricted in how regularly we meet to discuss life – be it daily or months apart. And regardless of the time between sessions, I’m amazed at how we always find ourselves hashing out solutions to the world’s problems, without worrying about the next appointment, whether we veer off topic or even reviewing what we discussed last time. I simply know that we will always get to the heart of the matter. In fact, I think my life coach’s ability to see into my heart is one of her true gifts.
Often, when we can’t meet in person, my life coach and I will simply chat over the phone. I sometimes send photos of where I am, what I am doing, what it is that has me flabbergasted or joyous… The other day it was a photo of the seeds I had planted. Just little plastic trays with black, wet dirt. How seeing this would be of use, I still don’t understand. But nonetheless, from it grew a conversation about life, just like those little seeds waiting for a bit of love and summer warmth.
In all this time though, I’ve never once thought to clock those calls or add up how much they cost me. Whether it takes ten minutes to unearth my mojo or an hour and ten, it simply makes no difference. You can’t put a price on finding calm and balance. And while I mostly try to keep to respectable hours – i.e. not calling after the sun has set – I know that if the need arose I could call, day or night, and that my life coach would always answer.
I know that people spend a long time seeking out the perfect life coach – online, through word of mouth etc – so I count myself incredibly fortunate in that I found my life coach very organically. I didn’t go seeking her at all. I just realised one day that she was there. Right in front of me, as though she had always been, providing much needed guidance, telling me I could do anything, be anything… that I am enough. And that if I want to be more, then I will be, I will be exceptional. My life coach has endless confidence in me. Which, frankly, is awesome, because there are days when I feel like a watered down version of Atlas, carrying the weight of the world on my shoulders. And then I hear my coach yelling at me from the side lines and I shake it off and get on with it.
I don’t think there is actually a course that can adequately prepare you to become someone’s life coach. Well… other than life itself perhaps. My life coach has also never asked for anything in return. The truth is I love her, but she has never asked for even this. Being my life coach is simply, I now understand, her calling. It is selfless. Which, when I think about it, makes me incredibly blessed.
So I’d like to publicly acknowledge my life coach.
Thanks Mum. I love you x