A little bit on love (and fear)

I went out by myself on Valentine's Day this year.

I say "this year" because most years I do nothing. I don't "hate" the day, as is generally assumed about most single people at this time of year; in fact, I don't really pay it much attention, except for the candy sales that roll around the day after. I AM aware that my coupled-up friends have their plans, because I usually hear about them when the day has come and gone.

I've been single pretty much my whole life, by choice (and other variables I won't go into here).

I immersed myself in the safety of academic pursuits and when I was through with that, working and ruminating on a career path. I told myself I didn't have time to seek out companionship, and have so far lived my life according to that belief.

But this past Valentine's Day, things changed. Because I wanted them to change. Because I want to rewrite the script that would have me believe I "don't have time" to fit companionship into my life. Whatever has finally shifted and softened in my stubborn, I-can-do-this-life-alone mind set allowed me to Google "Singles Valentine's Day Events Portland Oregon 2011," and what I came up with was a blast.

Singles CPR.

No, not mouth-to-mouth with strangers; we used plastic dummies. But the plastic dummies were in a hotel conference room with about 15 strangers, every one of them probably as nervous as I was.

When I came across the American Red Cross announcement, I was immediately intrigued; here was a Valentine's Day event that didn't involve painful small talk, forced mingling or the need to whip out the frothiest frock I own and put myself out there in a way that made me want to shrivel up and die. It was a PRACTICAL event--which appealed to me greatly. We would be doing something, and that something involved saving lives. Plastic lives, but lives nonetheless.

When the day rolled around, I was anticipatory. Happily excited and a little nervous. I work a recovery (12-step--in this case, Al-Anon) program, and we sometimes refer to the negative keep-you-stuck voices in our heads as "The Sh*tty Committee." My committee had been trying DESPERATELY to talk me out of following through with my V-Day plans for the ensuing two weeks after I'd sent in my $20 registration. "It's cold," they whined. "It's a work night. You'll need to buy a new blouse.....they'll be younger/older than you. It'll be boring. You'll be embarrassed. Wouldn't it be nice just to stay home with the cats?" etc. etc.

I thanked the voices for their input and went anyway.

I have often found that simply putting my body somewhere I want to be--some event, such as this, that my mind would like to dissuade me from attending--is the healthiest, most effective way for me to "follow through" on things. I also know that, as a Life Coach who regularly encourages my clients to take those bold but sometimes scary steps towards making the changes they desire in their own lives, I need to "walk the walk" and not just "talk the talk." I, too, want to make certain changes (such as finding partnership) that involves taking some risks in my life and taking steps that may feel a little....scary. And each time I do, I am encouraged and emboldened in my objective. It's a step in the right direction, even if it's a new direction. Even if there's fear there. Fear doesn't have to keep us stuck, and expecting it not to be part of the changes we want to make is probably unrealistic. Nor is it about "conquering" the fear. It's about honoring it--acknowledging it--and doing what we'd planned to do anyway. This is how we grow. This is how we begin to truly understand what we're capable of, what our values are, what kinds of people we are in the world. Otherwise, everything stays (safely) tucked in the realm of theory.

When all was said and done, I had a marvelous time, chatted with some people, polished my choking & CPR skills, ate some chocolate and drank some wine. And even ended up on the evening news.

One never knows what they're going to get when they finally step out the front door in bold search of their dreams. Surrender. Have ridiculous fun. Honor your fear--don't fight it. Put your body where it needs to be. Show up. And be ready for anything.

Year of the Rabbit

2011.

It's a new year (Year of the Rabbit in the Chinese zodiac).

Do you make New Year's resolutions?

I do. Every December, I draft a kind of "to-do" list for the upcoming year and post it where I can see it (the 2011 list is right next to a mirror on the wall in my bedroom; whenever I look in the mirror to dry my hair or apply my make-up in the morning, I see the list and I'm reminded of of my resolutions).

Some of what I've written are ongoing, such as the recovery-based (I work a 12-step Al-Anon program) resolution that states simply, "I will not accept unacceptable behavior." I like being reminded of this fact, and it leaves a lot of room to reflect on what "unacceptable behavior" looks or feels like, and how I might set boundaries around it when I'm on the receiving end of it.

Some are specific objectives, such as "get contact lenses" (I wear glasses--in fact, I wear "progressive" lenses, which are kinda like bifocals but without then line--or the "I'm getting older!" stigma--and which have taken me practically the entire two years I've had them to get used to them!) which I haven't worn since I was a freshman in college many, many years ago--soft lenses, one of which I ended up losing on the tile bathroom floor of my parent's home and never found, thus ending my relationship with something small, round and plastic that was to be worn closely against my iris. Glasses are much harder to lose, and I didn't want to deal with the washing/soaking anymore. Now, I'm a little older, and--I guess--a little more vain. And my sight keeps changing.

And I've cycled through every glasses style I can think of: chunky plastic, sleek frameless, intellectual wire-rimmed "Gandhi" glasses, giganto early-80's biggie plastic mongo frames (they really were), clip-on sunglasses, etc. Time to change it up and revisit--well, something small & plastic against my iris.

Some of my resolutions have to do with reclaiming beloved, thoroughly enjoyable leisure past times/experiences--i.e., "Go to the theater." I love live theater (I have an MFA in theater, after all), and saw a lot of it at the Guthrie in Minneapolis when I used to live there, and at Portland Center Stage when I first lived here in Portland many years ago.

A few other Life Coach friends suggested other very helpful approaches to setting resolutions; one suggested setting a theme for the year, and I really like that approach (Wellness? Relationships?); another suggested expressing our resolutions in the present tense, as if they're already happening--i.e., "I am seeing more theater," or "I am running 5 miles a day."

These are a few approaches to setting an intention--our resolutions--for the New Year. Journaling and Vision Boards (if you're visually-oriented/creative and like SEEING your objectives in front of you) may also be some very helpful approaches to manifesting the changes you want to make/life you want to live.

A final, important resolution for me is to update this blog regularly once a month--so please check back for other updates/topics of interest!

Happy New Year. And if I may ask, what are your resolutions for 2011--this new Year of the Rabbit?

Got to be Real

You may've noticed, in perusing this blog, that I only semi-regularly update it. Part of that pattern is due to general busy-ness. As I mentioned in the last blog post, I still also work a day job while I've been lovingly growing my Life Coach business, which is beginning to sprout actual legs and take off--if not quite running, yet, then briskly walking--but definitely quantifiably and certainly in the right direction. But perhaps a larger part is due to authenticity, something we coaches are pretty keen on.

The purpose of this blog, really, is so that (potential) clients and the general casually-reading public get to know me a little better--just me, Caitlin, not necessarily "Coach Caitlin" (which, while this moniker is certainly a significant aspect of who I am, it's still only a facet of a larger, holistic identity).

There is a playwright, Marsha Norman--perhaps best known for her play "'Night, Mother," and a faculty member at Juilliard--whose reported approach to playwriting involves a certain amount of internal noodling, mulling, plotting and dreaming before finally, ultimately putting pen to paper.

As a creative person myself (I have an MFA in playwriting and a background in fine arts), I was familiar already with a certain amount of dreaminess, but the external messages I seemed to internalize (which can often become crippling Limiting Beliefs that may keep us from actually producing any measurable outcome, especially if we're creative) dictated that "work" (even creative work) was something measured only by doing, and "doing" meant constant output. I developed the belief that just being still with an idea and quietly chewing on characters and plot and dialog must not be "real" work. So when I first read that--this notion that, in stillness, actual creative work was being done, I was, I think, changed. I felt affirmed and considered my process validated by a writer whose plays I admired.

Granted, some artists are remarkably prolific, churning out novel after novel or painting after painting. But others of us need to honor the "inner landscape" and let our projects "bake" for a longer while until our work--sometimes very nearly in its finished state--is ready to burst out of our psyches and be presented in a more lasting, perhaps physical manifestation to the world at large. It's how I, as a writer, and many other creative types (including clients of mine) have expressed that they themselves work.

I now know that when I honor my creative process and give myself permission to write this way--undeterred by external influences or expectations--my writing comes from a sharper, more emotional place; I like it better, because it's most authentic. And in the case of this blog, the nuggets feel more useful, more meaningful, and offer a truer glimpse into my own system of beliefs. It's more real.

It's more Caitlin.

Will my output increase when I'm no longer working a day job? Possibly, although I'd still never force it, no matter how much "extra" time I find myself enjoying. I always want to believe in what I produce; I always want that authenticity.

Perhaps the challenge is to trust that this endless river of creativity will yield at its own unique, organic pace, with the understanding that the time to dream is valuable preparation for what is to come.

How do you create?

Light My Fire

Typically, the first thing I do when I get through the front door at the end of another work day (after greeting my two cats) is drop my stuff on the floor and change into shorts and a tee-shirt or sweatpants (if the weather is chillier). Usually, I’m pretty beat—and being a Highly Sensitive Person (HSP), somewhat over-stimulated by being both around and engaged with people & information all day. All I want to do is (quietly) eat dinner, catch up on the Sunday NY Times, look at shoes on eBay (I find it relaxing—really!) or watch whatever Netflix is waiting for me.

My day job takes it out of me, but I can remind myself it really is only a job—in other words, it’s something I’m doing (for now) from 9-5 to float my life, pay my bills, keep a roof over my head and the kitties in kibble & treats. And it’s something I’ll continue to do until the thing I most love doing—the thing that fires me up, feeds my soul, stokes my curiosity and energizes me—the thing I was meant to do with my life, my “right livelihood”—moves from the realm of part-time work to full-time work.

I’m a Life Coach. I’ve been, in some way, shape or form, a Life Coach pretty much all my life. I was the friend everyone came to for advice who apparently had “TELL ME” emblazoned across my forehead, the one who listened with great patience, empathy and compassion and offered a shoulder to cry on and wisdom probably beyond my years, the one who heard about boyfriends, careers, cross-country moves, families of origin, college, weight loss (and gain), dying pets, physical ailments, and just about anything else life drummed up (and it was a LOT, and varied). The one who preferred long conversations and hearing other people’s stories to just about any other time-filler (except live theater, which is ALSO the unfolding of “other people’s stories” and the reason I got an MFA in playwriting).

Why am I sharing all this? Because when we are practicing our “right livelihood”—when we do what we are meant to do, which also means honoring our Higher Power by tapping into and sharing our true, innate, God-Given gifts/talents with the world around us, as I do when I am coaching—we are, in those moments, truly alive.

As I mentioned, at the end of the day when I return home from my day job, I’m pretty beat. I’ve been up (vertical, yes, though not necessarily awake) since about 6:30 AM and including my commute time, have invested about 12 hours into it, all told. My brain may feel fuzzy, my body fatigued—yet, when I prepare to coach someone for an hour at the end of a long day, either via phone or face-to-face, the day job and the exhaustion magically dissipates and the day and its stressors slip completely away…..and when the coaching hour is up, I am, for all practical purposes and for lack of a better word, high. Just totally, utterly, naturally high. When I am done with a client, I feel happy, re-energized, sure of my path and identity as a Life Coach, empowered, and thrilled that I found my heart’s calling, my alignment, my absolute bliss. Thrilled that I can be paid for doing something I love, and that I get to participate, in a very real sense, in “other people’s stories.”

And when we do what we love, when we’re truly aligned with our work, when we are doing what, on a cellular level, we know we are meant to be doing, when our work fits us like a glove—when it’s a “no-brainer” to be turning our passions or hobbies into our livelihoods (what a concept!), when it feeds us like the amazing feast it can be, we are energized beyond belief—and in turn, we send that positive energy right back out into a hungry and broken world, into the universe at large where it is so desperately needed. By our very satisfied, focused, contented natures, we become “change-makers,” an army of positive thinkers.

So we owe it to ourselves and to the world to find work that charges us up, lights our inner fire, stokes our passion, feeds our deepest values. The exploration it sometimes takes to find out what that may be for each of us, what our true callings may be, is worth the time, energy, journey, and possibly money we spend on our becoming.

As Confucius said, “Find a job you love, and never work a day in your life.”

In what ways does your work feed you?

It's the Small Things...

As a Professional Life Coach, I'm really big on rapport; that's apparent from my last blog entry. I'm also really big on the little things that Life Coaches can do for their clients to nurture and sustain their working relationship for the length of time that they HAVE a working relationship--whether it be for 1 session, 1 month, 3 months, or longer.

One way I nurture a working relationship is by having an "open door" policy for my clients as we coach, which means when my client and I have finished our scheduled weekly meeting, they're also welcome to continually check in with me as desired via phone or email as new thoughts, perspectives, and potential "aha!'s" occur. Yes, my clients pay me for my time as their Life Coach in one-hour increments; but when we're done with that week's meeting and have turned our attention to other tasks in our respective lives, I want them to know their coach is still in the universe with their best interests in mind and cheering them on in absentia.

Does this take up a lot of valuable time? Not at all. I have never received a phone call in the wee hours (I'd be asleep anyway!) nor have any of my clients abused the privilege and locked up my in-box with a plethora of emails. I always appreciate hearing from them and knowing how they're doing and what's been working for them in-between our meetings. Of course, not all my clients need or want this extra support; it's not their style to continue processing after we've finished our hour, and often, one meeting a week is enough (processing and making significant changes in our lives--even those changes that we want and which excite us--can be hard and tiring work!) But for others, it's useful and meaningful. And that's fine.

For example, after one of my coaching sessions, a client of mine emailed me a poem that resonated with her; in return, I sent her a poem that seemed to speak to where she was on her journey of self-awareness (good for rapport!). She also liked to leave occasional voicemails updating me on her weekly progress and the regular discoveries she was making about her strengths and her life, and I always appreciated receiving them. It wasn't always necessary to call her back because often, her updates were simply FYIs until our next meeting.

A few weeks after my poem-sending client finished out her contract with me, I received another lengthy email from her updating me on her new job. She sounded very happy and wanted to share the good news with her former Life Coach, and I was happy to share in her excitement and felt like a proud parent reading her update, since a new job was a personal goal that she had met.

It's a sincere honor to be gifted with the significant life-altering details of my clients' lives, and I take their journeys just as seriously as they do.

So although keeping an open door between meetings is a personal preference--doing it or not doing it is neither right nor wrong--for me personally, the tidbits that are shared are just one more wonderful aspect of being a Professional Life Coach (and there are so many!)

A small thing, really, that's actually pretty big.

Good Hair & the Importance of Rapport

Rapport: "relation; connection, esp. harmonious or sympathetic relation."

Whenever I find that I need to find a new hairdresser--someone who understands a fine-haired, cowlick-y head such as mine and can turn what can be a limp, semi-unruly mess into a cutesy, feminine pixie 'do--I have to shop around a while. Especially after I've uprooted and moved to a new city.

In September 2007, I moved back here to Portland after 6 years in Minneapolis; I only just now--in the last 2 months--found a hairdresser who understands my above criteria beautifully. In fact, when I went for my first cut, the first thing she did (well, the second, after introductions and getting me seated in her chair) was run her hands liberally through my hair, as if she were practicing the fine art of Phrenology.

"I'm looking for cowlicks," she said, matter-of-factly.

In that moment, I felt I'd found my hairdresser.

She "got" me. She got my head, my hair, my cowlicks. We chatted amicably. I really enjoyed the experience (I'm usually fairly "angsty" about my hair, especially with a new hairdresser, and find that I tend to "future-trip" about the outcome rather than settle in and enjoy the transformative process). And I emerged after more than an hour of her careful clipping & snipping with an adorable new cut.

I was, quite literally, in good hands.

Finding a good fit with a Certified Professional Coach (CPC) is similar to the way I established a happy sense of safety and rapport with my hairdresser; while it will likely not take nearly 3 years (if you're really ready to take those life-altering, soul-satisfying Big Leaps into the Life of Your Dreams, you'll want the process of finding and working with a great CPC to move a little more swiftly), it definitely takes deliberation, trusting your intuition, asking lots of questions (yes, you get to "interview" your coach), and gathering references from others who've been coached.


But why is rapport so important?

Simple. If you don't have rapport with your CPC, you won't be getting a complete coaching experience. You won't go as deep and as far as you could in the coaching process, because you won't feel safe, or connected to, or understood. You know how you feel with your very best friend--as if you could tell them anything at all, and they love you anyway, warts and all? That they always have your back? That they always want the best for you, and always want to cheer you on and be active participants in all the good moments of your life? That they're a comfortable, safe haven for you in the world?

You should pretty much feel the same way with any CPC you work with. You should feel welcome; you should feel important, and the way you express yourself should be reflected back to you by your CPC clearly, letting you know in return that they truly "get" your vision and your unique self-expression (this alone can be determined in an initial get-to-know-you phonecall); you should feel championed; you should get a sense of your CPC as a real person, a person first, who truly, authentically loves the process of coaching and always has your best interest in mind. You should feel like everything your CPC reflects back--even if, occasionally, it's hard to hear--comes from a place of authentic support and caring for you and your objectives. Your journey should be as important to your CPC as it is to you.

When we finally decide to seek Life Coaching, it's often because we know deeply that we're ready to make a significant change, and changing anything about our lives (even our hair!) and navigating any roadblocks that may come up in the process can be challenging. Therefore, establishing that safe, comfortable sense of rapport with your CPC (and your hairdresser!) makes the whole process feel better and more safe, more deeply revealing, more alive, and more fun, hence enabling us to grow exponentially, explore without limitations, and become our very best selves.

Big Thinking

We Life Coaches often use a particular question (or variation thereof) to encourage our clients to think BIG about their lives and move past the fear and uncertainty that tends to hold them back from fully and joyfully experiencing an authentic, values-driven and well-lived life with few regrets.

The question is, "If you could do anything you wanted--anything at all--and money (or any other considerations/responsibilities/commitments) were of no concern, what is it you would DO?"

What picture pops into your mind? Where are you? What are you doing? How are you living?

I was asked this question last night as I sat talking with two other Life Coach friends, and I went with my first impression (because I have discovered that sometimes, first impressions/thoughts are the most accurate & truthful), which involved warm weather in some tropical locale with all of my friends and my beloved pets around me. That was what I came up with and that's what I wanted, in that moment of thinking big. Remember, money, time, and any other considerations--such as my friends' abilities to join me and their own responsibilities, etc.--were of no object to my personal vision; it's about letting go of "practical" constraints and allowing our dreams--which must start somewhere, with some "big thinking"--to take hold of us so that we may pursue them--or parts of them--in our lifetimes.



It's easy to believe that this "big thinking" is a waste of time and we write off whatever we come up with as daydreams or perhaps possible options only AFTER we retire from our "regular" lives, jobs and responsibilities. "When the kids are grown," we say. Or, "When I've paid off my debt." Or, "I have pets, they're too hard to travel with." Or simply, "It's just not PRACTICAL."

What do you tell yourself about your own "big thinking?" What are the beliefs that keep you stuck?

Often, we wait until we come face-to-face with the starkest reminders that our lives are a short gift; we wait until we, or someone we love, is very sick, and--understanding that we (or they) are faced with a limited amount of time, only then begin exploring our lives and doing everything we've always wanted to do, all the on-hold dreams and experiences we've told ourselves we'd "someday" do. Time becomes the precious motivator we need to "think big," especially when our "somedays" are suddenly limited in a way we had not foreseen.

I've always wondered why it takes such dire reminders to finally force us into action. I also know, as a human being first and a Certified Professional Coach (CPC) second, that I, too, need to walk the walk and not just "talk the talk" with my clients. I, too, need to always remind myself that my dance on this earth, in this precious lifetime, is a short one, and to continue my own "big thinking" in pursuit of my own authentic, values-driven and well-lived life.