When All Else Fails....

....take a Mental Health day.

Which is exactly what I find myself doing this very Wednesday.

I'm a Life Coach and a writer; I am currently getting paid to do these things, but only enough--at the moment--to consider these both "side" jobs, and I dislike that fact enormously. So I tend to fume and moan and bitch considerably and THEN make new, good steps towards The Prize, and yes, at least--at least--I am getting paid to do what I love, what really satisfies my spirit and my heart. There is that.

But, like a really, really good dessert, the amounts of either are sadly limited and remain in the realm of the somewhat rarified. For now.

So. This means that other sources of income are necessary. No, I don't sell plasma, and my ovum are way too ripe to proffer to a desperate-yet-wealthy Yuppie couple intent on shelling their own brood. I have a day job.

A soul-sucking, dull-beyond-words, paper-pushing absolutely NOT gratifying corporate day job in a Tax & Customs department at a local, currently badly-flailing company. I have been there going on year 2, which is how much they like me. So much, in fact, I've been asked if I might consider a career in Customs. It's all I can do to not roll my eyes heavenward and smirk outright. So I blink demurely a few times and widen my eyes and, drumming up as much drippy sincerity as possible, say, "Oh, I'm flattered....." and smile pleasantly, letting an abject silence befall the proceeding.

At which point the hopeful manager looks at me utterly agog (I mean, what? Really? You're eschewing a Good Job with Company X to pursue your esoteric, woo-woo hippie Life Coaching pipe dreams? Surely you jest, you shortsighted featherhead!) and says, "But that's all, right?"

And I continue smiling weakly until we part ways, not a bit closer to understanding one another's objectives/driving motivations/life's goals/core values whatsoever. Not even a smidgen.

But now, I'm finding it hard to show up even vaguely interested. Showing up vertical is, most days, a complete coup. A huge part of my weighty lack of enthusiasm stems from the fact this company is, as I mentioned, suffering mightily during this rough economic downturn. There are weekly rumors of impending "Big Announcements," about which much speculation ensues--that we're going to a mandatory 4-day workweek (score!); that everyone is being moved to headquarters and vacating the current premises; that such a big chunk of the company has been bought by the United Arab Emirates that any hopes of moving into the future "Green" are now shot completely, since the Sheiks love their oil; and who knows what else.

Stress prevails; a guard has been posted by the back elevator since (more speculation) angry, gun-toting former employees could potentially return for a little payback action, and various coworkers have been out for days with a variety of illnesses, including highly-contagious Walking Pneumonia (but who knew! She thought she just had a wee cough as she robustly spewed the infection through the recirculated office ventilation system); guts rumble mightily in neighboring stalls whenever I repair to the bathroom to take a mere pee, making even those few minutes of public respite a miserable God-awful experience.

The only glint of periodic employee happiness comes from the Mountain Man, a mobile candy vendor who comes by weekly with his sugary wares. It's like the Pied Piper, or the Second Coming of Christ, or at the very least, Robert Pattinson surrounded by hormonal 14-year-old girls at a Twilight screening. Nevermind that an office full of angry, sedentary, skeetchy middle-aged employees with stress-compromised immune systems and the very likely potential for Adult Onset Diabetes don't need to dip their hands into various over-prices baggies of repackaged candies (emotional eating, anyone?) It helps them get through their days, I get it...as do the regularly-scheduled runs for coffee, the lunch outings and the routing of birthday cards (and highly-anticipated afternoon cakes, replete with warbled "Happy Birthday" song) forcibly scrawled with platitudes of fake glee and camaraderie.

Am I bitter? Am I burned out? Yes. And yes.

Hence, the Mental Health day. When even two Al-Anon meetings in the course of 8 hours don't snap me out of it, it's time to stay home. And stay in bed.

And in indulge in a rather collegiate lunch that consisted of a pile of leftover Tater-Tots from last night's dinner, and two Tofutti Cuties, both of which deeply satisfied my monthly hormonal yen for something fatty & salty and also something sweet.

But lest you think I'm hurtling into middle-aged female curmudgeonliness, let me acknowledge today's bright spot: the logo for my Life Coaching biz was finished and forwarded to me by my talented graphics-designing friend, and soon, it will make its "official" debut on the 'net. In the meantime, I will say that it makes me smile with pride each time I see it--it evokes exactly what I need it to.

It is a sweet, charming, professional little reminder that there is actually something meaningful towards which I am working when I arise at 6:30 (okay, 6:40) each morning and ready myself to head off to a day job that offers very little other than a paycheck.

Eyes on the Prize, baby. Eyes on the Prize.

So close, I can almost touch it.....

Time to post. Time to let y'all know what's been going on with this chick.

Time to reveal the Semi-Big Plan I have for a second blog. To wit:

I'm very nearly--nearly--finished with my Life Coach training. Next Sunday, August 10th, is the last day. And my cohort is gonna par-tay. And drink wine and reminisce and try not to worry about Next Steps, of which--speaking for myself--there will be many. Like a business name. And an eventual business niche, though I'm not especially concerned with that at the moment (I think it'll evolve organically, depending on who I coach and what they bring to me to explore). And marketing tactics, and more articles to write and books to read and groups to attend and deadlines for this and that and an occasional conference or two, now and again. Or maybe more often than that. Depending.

And part of me feels like I'm being pulled along for one hell of a wild fantastic remarkable meaningful life-changing door-opening ride, and I'm hanging on by my fingernails, but I'm enjoying the hell out of it. In fact, my life is nothing like it was a year ago. I cannot emphasize
that enough--nothing. And I love it. Not because my life before--in Minneapolis--was so horrid, because it wasn't. It meant a lot to me to be there, to discover what I discovered about myself and my dormant-and-then-reawakened abilities. But I was just constantly aware as I was living it that it wasn't what I wanted until I died, to be blunt. I didn't want to stay there for the rest of my life, get married there, buy a house there...put down roots there. I did what I needed to do there, and then I was done. And I moved myself back here, back to Portland, and revved up my life in a whole different way, in a way I never could've been ready for previously. And now I am.

And I must be sending that Readiness Vibe out into the universe, because some good shit is bouncing back to me and the thing is, I'm noticing it. And appreciating it. And savoring it and just letting it glow on me, and in me, and around me, cause it feels so wickedly awesome. It sounds like I'm in love....and I guess I am, with what it is I'm doing. It's the coaching thang: there are very few as meaningful ways to spend my waking hours than by facilitating someone else's innate ability to find their Own Best Answers. It's just so cool to be part of that.

And that's the locus of my Semi-Big Plan: I'm gonna start a dedicated Life Coaching blog. The Hen House will continue to be a reflection of my irreverent, stream-of-consciousness day-to-day ruminations, as it has right along (like, what is UP with all these emerging X-Files? The "Montauk Monster?" Flesh-eating dudes hacking heads off on bus rides across Canada? Monkey-faced pigs? The mind boggles. But I digress.....) and that one will be about my own process as a Life Coach.

My own process. That's important to point out, because the work I do with my clients is confidential. But my own impressions of my own Life Coach journey is something I'm willing to share.....and so I will.

But first, I gotta finish. And next time I post--here, or there--I'll have "CPC" after my name.

Certified Professional (Life) Coach.

Sounds nice, don't it?

Big Leaps & Deep Ahhhhhhs

The time is nigh; Life Coach training approacheth.

It starts Friday afternoon, March 14th and goes through Sunday evening, March 16th. This is the first of six courses; we take one weekend-long course once per month for six months, and they are:

Personal Mastery
Systems I
Systems II
Process I
Process II
Flow

Graduation requirements are as follows:

*Attend 100% of program hours (125 hours of coach-specific training);
*Provide 16 hours of peer coaching services (8 hours as a coach, 8 as a client);
*Pass the oral exam (passing grade greater than 75%);
*Pass the written exam (also greater than 75%);
*Attend 4 hours of after-hours in-person practice sessions



There is an additional certification process through ICF (International Coach Federation) which is optional and comes later; however, it's better--and more legitimizing--to be ICF certified, which is my plan, as is joining the Northwest Coaches Association (good for networking/shoulder-rubbing, etc.)

Each piece of this journey requires one focused step at a time, or I'd get utterly overwhelmed. But I'm totally excited, and I filled out my application today, which felt momentous. When I get my tax refund, a portion of that will go to the application fee, and the rest will be put into savings....for future payments toward my training. It's all sitting in a neat & tidy pile, waiting to be copied off and dropped in the mail. And since it's such a small program, the application is pretty simple; it's mostly just a placeholder. I've met the woman--a totally animated ball of fire--who runs the program and have spoken with her over the phone; she's great at getting people (me!) to focus, a great energizer and a great motivator. Well, she's a successful working coach, so she should be all of those things....

So that's that. More as it happens with my exciting career preparations!

As for the "Deep Aaaaahhhhhh's.....," that's how it feels when I dunk my hands into the fragrant, warm, melted, soothing paraffin wax bath I was given (or "Paraffin Spa") for Christmas by a friend's mom--one of these initially curious, semi-random gifts I'd never think of purchasing for myself yet find myself absolutely ENAMORED of and loving and totally blissed-out by and completely thankful for (how's that for a preposition-rich sentence?)

It was given to me to soothe my arthritic hands (something my poor joints developed the last few Winters I was living in Minnesota) and soothe it does, not to mention soften and generally beautify (I've always maintained a certain level of Cuticle Vanity, I admit). I can't wait to try different kinds of scented wax--lavender, peach, whatever....I've read there's even a chocolate wax on the market, somewhere. Now THAT would be something!

Aaaaahhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh...........................

Back on Track

God is home; we are in the far country. --Meister Eckhart

I have been in the far country for most of January. My impatience brought me there, and when I'd had enough of stringing myself out, I packed up and came right back home.

I was chasing after something I thought I wanted, or needed, or both, and when I finally woke up again, I realized neither was true; I had my chosen path for the next year or so: Life Coach training (and then indefinitely thereafter, practicing as a Life Coach). However, I am sometimes easily distracted, and so found myself distracted by the possibility of a job with a large, local Episcopal Cathedral. When I initially queried them, I was met with an enthusiastic "Yes, please forward your resume! I am really looking forward to speaking with you!" And speak we did, on three separate occasions and with a different panel of people each time.

So I cleared my temp schedule. I was keeping my eyes on the prize, I told myself, and couldn't be distracted by short-term nonsense. But day after day, the prize never materialized; key decision makers at the cathedral were perpetually gone, and a hiring consensus was not being reached.

I admit, I can be impatient, and I often criticize timelines that aren't my own (hell, I criticize a lot of things that aren't my own, something I continue to address in Recovery, but I digress.....) I was doing that here, but the lack of a concrete decision also provided me with a lot of time to think. The last communication I received, via email--after the third interview, when all pertinent ground had been covered and more could not be said and I allowed myself the brief fantasy that the hiring manager would turn to me, smiling, and say, "You've got it!," thus making my weekend blissfully happy--was that everyone at the Cathedral was being "prayerfully discerning." I'd been told I was the final of two candidates, that I was at the top, still on the radar; I'd been hugged by one of the hiring managers, a warm gesture I interpreted as a very positive sign; and I'd been winked at by another person on the second panel who said to me in passing, "I think we'll be seeing you again."


All roads pointed to a forthcoming offer. And while I waited--and waited-- for that offer, I regretfully turned down other work. Then developed a bad case of insomnia and an anxious stomach. And started crying a lot and generally being a pain-in-the-ass around my roommate, who did his best to talk me off the curtains. I meditated, and it didn't help. I hiked for miles. I ate chocolate. Desperate for a mood-lifter, I snuggled on the sofa and watched "Miss Congeniality" (it helped). Desperate for sleep, I stayed in bed all of last Saturday and read. This emotional investment was not good. In fact, it was becoming utterly dysfunctional.

I felt like my life was not only off-track, it was completely on hold, and I wondered if all this trauma-drama was worth it. As a former self-professed Drama Addict, I do my best to avoid drama now; I don't want it or need it to remind myself that, yes, I am alive. But apparently, I am still an expert at creating it. Buckets-full.

And then I got this gentle reminder from my future Life Coach teacher:

".....remember your path. The force is with you....."

I'd come to Portland to be a Life Coach, NOT to throw in with an indecisive non-profit. My heart is in non-profits; I believe in them, just as I believe in public schools....but ironically, my experiences at both have never, ever been positive. Still--bafflingly--I persist in my thinking.

I knew, finally, what I had to do. I wrote the hiring manager a kind, thoughtful email full of thanks and gratitude, letting her know that I, too, had been prayerfully (more like restlessly) discerning, and that I'd be withdrawing from their consideration. I ended up making my own decision, and once I hit send, it was like a huge burden lifted instantly. It felt right.

I let my temp agencies know I was free and willing. I am planning to send in my application for the Spring Life Coach program ASAP, which starts mid-March. I am sleeping better, and my stomach has calmed down. I am no longer anxious, nor am I morose. My roommate--who heard the brunt of my anxiety around all of this--was disappointed that I'd made the choice I made and wondered why, after all the spent energy and the positive feedback, I didn't continue to just stick it out, to wait.

Because I've been waiting, I said. Dormant, almost. Frozen. By choice, yes, but....I lost my focus, and it began to gnaw at me. I gave them what they wanted, and in the end, they still needed to pray....and I finally needed to move on. It was okay that he was disappointed; I'm entitled to change my mind, even if my choices seem to not make sense to those around me, even if I risk disapproval by doing so, even if I still develop those old, unnecessary feelings of letting someone else down.

Most of the other people around me, friends and family who'd also heard me question and analyze and complain and wonder, were happy that a decision--any decision--had been made.

As am I. I am, contentedly, back on track. I've learned a few things about expectations and impatience and surrender. And I am no longer, in this instance, in the far country.

Welcome home.