A calm sea does not make a skilled sailor.
And, for the record, an easy life does not make a badass life and business coach.
I’m sitting on my patio, looking up at the blue sky over my Kentucky home with tears in my eyes. I’ve just heard that another one of my close friends has had a serious health scare. My heart is broken. No words come to mind but “What the fuck is going on with the universe?”. I am shell-shocked that so many beautiful, loving, and serving women can possibly be so sick. It seems to be an epidemic and a fucking conspiracy against the women of the world who have dedicated their lives to helping others. I have so much emotion wrapped up in this question, this puzzle, this reality, that a book is about to be seeded and written.
We, who have offered our lives to hold the hands of the wounded, to pick up the fallen, to shine the light on the path ahead, to believe in others when they can’t believe in themselves are enduring some of the most heinous physical and emotional situations you can imagine. And, on top of that, most life coaches don’t or can’t talk about their truth in fear that others won’t understand or will judge their struggles. And, what’s worse, they judge themselves and fade in and out of self-doubt and often don’t have the support they need to get to the next level of life and business. Yes, we are sick. Yes, we have family and relationship problems. Yes, we have money issues. Yes, we have fears and doubts. We are human.
Frankly, I’m tired of not talking about it. I’m tired of seeing all the glam ads for women’s life coaches that elude to the fact that they went through hell to get there or are even still there. The truth is the truth, and revealing it will always be the best way to attract abundance, health, and joy into your life. Mentors, coaches, teachers, it’s time to stand up and be as real as we can.
So why do we do what we do if it is so hard? The short answer is that we must. It is our purpose, our calling. We could no more deny it than we could deny our need to breathe. At least that’s what I feel. But, it hurts to feel so broken inside sometimes and have to be whole for others on demand. Chronically ill but also chronically serving the world. Is there a correlation between the two? Which came first, the chicken or the egg? A part of me doesn’t really care to know the answer. But there is another side that won’t rest until I understand the why of my own fleshly thorns and those of others like me. Is there another way to think, to live, to be that we are missing? I believe it’s time to explore these questions and answer them in a creative team environment. Perhaps a dynamic anthology will come of this…