Certain moments take your breath away. A friend capturing the essence of grief in words and images that stop your heart. A mother describing the confusion of supporting one daughter about to give birth and another desperate to conceive. A husband describing the agony of moving forward a little bit every day in the wake of his son’s death while his wife remains immobilized by sorrow. A child intensely curious about the world yet overwhelmed by a moment of new insight.
I used to hold such moments at arm’s length. I would listen, but I would want to set aside the pain of them, the truth of them as soon as possible, skimming the surface of emotion to arrive at the comfort (for me) of reason and perspective and justification. But lately, I find myself leaning in, opening to the words each person needs to speak. I wait with them, present with them, until the energy shifts and they can breathe again.
I used to think that becoming a coach represented a new direction for my professional life. And it does. But that is only the beginning of my story. Client by client, session by session, I witness profound transformation appearing in small flashes at first and then billowing up and through until there is no going back. Working with my own coach, this process means a new way of walking in the world, a new way of engaging with the people I encounter as if truly seeing them for the first time. It means hearing the stories they need to tell in order to discover the lives they want to live.
And so today, I find myself awash in gratitude for each opportunity to journey for a while with another human being.
When you are ready, come join me. I can’t wait for you to take my breath away.