When Inaction Poses the Greatest Risk

Last Monday's New York Times had an article entitled "When Self-Knowledge is only the Beginning" about the limits of self-awareness. I love what this article says -- that knowing why you are stuck or depressed doesn't, in an of itself, resolve the problem. This goes to the heart of coaching. Coaches assume that you need to take different action to get different outcomes.

If you are having trouble balancing work and life, it's not enough to know that your very demanding parents made it impossible for you to leave the office until midnight. To solve the issue, you have to set limits with your boss and stick to them. This can be very uncomfortable, but the learning is immense. The same goes with getting into relationships. Knowing that you don't trust men/women because an opposite sex parent was unavailable won't, in and of itself, make you date with ease. You need to change habits and approach, and then evaluate what you learn from it.

One of the most important things a coach does is to support a client through this process of changing habits. It is natural to hit obstacles and roadblocks when we try to do things differently. And so often we take an impediment as proof that the change isn't working. We give up. A good coach helps the client see the learning, keep the faith, and ultimately expand the successful new behavior.

Cooking With Earplugs

A few weeks ago, between her birthday in early December and Christmas, my daughter had a bad couple of days. She was overstimulated with gifts, sweets, anticipation, expectation and reality. One evening after 36 hours of almost constant whining or tantrums, and repeated attempts to soothe her, I checked out. Making dinner, I decided I just needed a few minutes to regain my composure. So I cooked with earplugs in. It muffled the noise just enough so that I could think straight and make dinner.

I bring it up because I just know there's a beautiful metaphor in here. Specifically, I believe, it is around taking away limiting beliefs, or the constant noise, so that we can think straight and get a clear understanding of what we want, in and for our lives. I think that we underestimate the pressure of the discourse that makes us maintain the status quo. Whether it's corporate America and the focus on "areas for improvement," our own stories handed down from our families of origin, or the constant badgering from the media, the "can't do it" messages are powerful. Many of us think that we are stronger than these influences. Worse, we blame ourselves when we aren't able to rise above them. Yet when the messages are as loud and urgent as a crying child, it is almost impossible to shut them out.

One of the first things I do with clients is to hand them metaphorical earplugs. By shutting out the noise, and only by shutting out the noise, can we take the first step towards imagining what it would feel like to truly be alive.

Professional Eating

In December I had lunch with a friend who is a professional chef who specializes in organic, fresh cooking. She suggested Kinshop in Greenwich Village. It was delicious and we had a wonderful time. A couple of weeks later, I had lunch there with my husband and while the food was delicious again, the experience lacked the transcendental quality that it had with Katy. Sorry Sean.

It got me to thinking about what it means to be a professional at cooking and eating, and what lessons a coach can infer from it. Eating with my friend is so much about process. We didn't spend our time fussing over the flavors and ingredients, though we did notice and acknowledge them. We let the food be a part, but only a part, of the whole. Equally important were the conversation, the manners and rituals that honored the great cooking, and the flow of the meal.

So what it is to let connection, ritual and flow live in what we do? At work? In social life? In leisure? Some people are happy to run on a treadmill at the gym with all of its odors and loud music. I can't help feeling that a bike ride or run, with a friend, at our own pace, by the river is so much more pleasant. The light, air and beauty of nature are so nourishing. And exercising so that we feel renewed and refreshed, not exhausted, is so exhilarating. Letting process and substance work creates rhythms that are sustainable, that actually strengthen and don't deplete us.

Good Deeds

This morning I had coffee at a small tea salon at the corner of 73rd and Amsterdam, and I sat next to the window, facing the intersection. We just had 20+ inches of snow in New York, and the corner had two 18" wide slippery, bumpy paths between the mounds of snow, one going West and one going South. For the hour that I sat I watched people, one after the other, helping elderly New Yorkers get across the street. Even in the midst of all the normal rushing, people helped each other. One guy even hailed a cab while the woman he was helping stood on the sidewalk, then got her settled in the cab and walked away. With him as with the others, I could see a pep in their step after their good deed. Helping someone else gives us such a sense of self-esteem.

So, next time you think, "I won't get up/lend a hand/say something. What if it makes them feel old/she isn't pregnant/they don't need help," how about reaching out anyway? The good feeling you get from someone else's appreciation is well worth taking the chance.

Intention

I loved this weekend's Modern Love article in the NYT Styles section. The author had gone to see a rabbi about wanting to meet a husband. She told him about her inability to meet Mr. Right, and the rabbi told her she was cursed. He then (for a small fee), reversed the curse.

The story resonated with me. A year and a half before I got married, I saw a tarot reader about the same issue. Seeing a fortune teller was not something I'd ever done, so it felt like a leap of faith. She told me that I'd be married and pregnant with the current boyfriend within two years. The effect was wonderful. I felt so calm and could finally focus on enjoying my life and my evolving relationship. And it let my intention to marry and have a family live like a soft focus in the background.

Intention is a big thing for coaches. It's one of the reasons we are so into visions. If you have a sense of where you are going, you have an intention. And that intention feeds all of the little choices and decisions that you make. And all of those little decisions add up to a plan, and to action. It's not that I don't believe in strategy and goal setting. I just believe that it all works in harmony. A cousin of mine explained that when he wanted to paint an ocean and sky landscape, he would paint his canvasses blue before beginning the image. Without that, he said, you can never achieve the color cast you are after. So intention is like that initial coat of paint. It shapes everything you do.

Even Coaches Get the Blues

Last month I found myself very busy with work. I also found myself distracted, unmotivated and a little blue. Finally, and thankfully, a friend of mine said, "Maybe you're a little depressed."

It was such a mild statement, but it jarred me. Me, depressed? I am a coach for goodness sake! And after a very short while, it relieved me. In fact, I had reason to be sad. Several shift had recently taken place in my life, some of them good, but I hadn't adjusted to the change and it was throwing me off.

Today normal sadness seems to be unacceptable. Finding literature on this phenomenon wasn't difficult. The book I found actually advocates for sadness as a good thing. I often think of the myth of the Rugged Individual. In America we seem to think that our fate is exclusively in our hands. We reject passive acceptance of sadness because it carries the implication of a lack of control. So what do we do when things happen in our lives that legitimately cause sadness and that need time to digest?

The first thing that seems to work for me is to realize that there is a legitimate cause for sadness and not be so hard on myself. Yes we all should and do get sad. When someone dies, when we leave our beloved friends because of a job change, when we move to a new neighborhood or city, the change can be hard. Once there is awareness, you can work on the problem. The second thing I do is to let time work for me. We think of mourning as something that applies to the death of a close loved one. But mourning can apply to any small loss or change, even a positive one. Yes, a positive one. Along with a great promotion can come sadness for the loss of easy camaraderie with piers who are no longer at the same level. Mourning is a period, no a moment. I let time do its thing. And the last thing I do is take care of myself. A period of sadness is no time to party excessively or laze around. If I am not up for a run, I take a walk. Little by little, the cycle breaks.

This past weekend I saw the Social Network. I thought it was pretty great. Interesting protagonists, sexy context, exciting endeavors. It was very entertaining.

What's bothered me are the comments I've heard about its being "Like Wall St., the defining movie of this generation!" Is this really how we want a generation to be defined? Success that is totally one dimensional, without thought to the wholeness of the human experience? I get it that as Americans, we respond to the mythology of the rugged individual. It is part of our history and part of who we are. We love the lone guy who makes it big, who overcomes adversity, who makes it happen.

But where we fail is in allowing success in one aspect of life, usually work, to override failings in others. In The Social Network, the main character ends up sad and alone. He alienates and hurts friends along the way. He steals. And while it is the proverbial 'moral of the story' that money can't buy happiness, he is still a hero for making billions of dollars. I remember having a similar reaction years ago when it was announced that Magic Johnson had AIDS. I understand that he had personal suffering. But he had also been systematically, for a long time, unfaithful to his wife. And families were throwing their children in front of him as a role model.

Money, achievement, power and status are overt signs of success. But what about the elements that make life rich but are less measurable and less overt: Character, transparency, support, communication. They are not rewarded in the same way and too often let go for the cold, hard results.