Celebration

I got the computer!!!!

Of Computers and Clowns

I bought a computer yesterday. A Mac Book. No big deal, right? Some folks prefer PCs, some prefer Macs. Wrong. This purchase was bigger than that. For all intents and purposes, having a Mac prevents me from working remotely at my current job. Increasingly, given Andi's and my conversation about where we are going to be after she graduates in next month, it looks like we won't be in the Bay Area.

What's the point? I've just made a major purchase for my private coaching practice.

Scary. And exciting. I just keep plugging away as if it's already so, as if there is no one to answer to but myself. And, indeed, it's true. There is no one, ultimately, to answer to in this.

I keep coming back to the archetype of the clown that my (theater) teacher spoke about a couple of weeks ago. It's a powerful symbol, I think, for the process of transformation I've been going through for a long time.

The clown, my teacher says, exists in reference to nothing - no walls, no boundaries of any kind - and no one. He stands, existentially, alone. Everything - every possible space, thought, relationship - is pure potential. And then ... And then, from this nothingness, he conjures something. He moves his body or his eyes, he makes a face - and suddenly he is in the world and in relationship to the world. He creates and then inhabits the world.

That's beautiful.

And that's what this process has been headed toward for me. Creating and inhabiting the world without taking my cues from anywhere, anyone else.

Wow.

The Void: Revisited

Really, this is such an interesting phenomenon. The same thoughts happen each time I click into my in-boxes - all three of them - and see that they are empty:

Loser. Lazy. You have nothing to do. Nobody needs/wants you. Etcetera.

If there is any clearer indication of the work/identity knot that was tied for me - by my folks' example - in my childhood and which I've spent many years tightening, I'd certainly like to see it.

I can learn something by reflecting on the opposite experience:

I see a ton of messages in my in-box and, just beneath the surface - represented by the thought that I have so much to do and isn't email and evil medium that invites arbitrary and meaningless communication between people, who, let's face it, are just keeping tabs on each other for when they need something - I have the sense that I am busy, wanted, needed, fulfilled.

And when the shit hits the fan - when I reach my limit - I know that I will be able to martyr myself on the craziness of my life, as represented by the presence of 8000 emails in my in-box.

It's a lie. More or less. Because insofar as I created the conditions within which I could become a martyr, I know that I have failed the most authentic version of myself. And that, to me, is dishonest. Period.

What a story. And right now, when I open my in-box, I experience The Void. It feels icky. The Void, here, is the reality that I am responsible to act, to do something with my life, made up of this moment, and this one, and this one. I can do it or not do it. My choice.

To the degree that I present myself to others as "busy, busy, busy" - which is how most people, I find, respond to the question "How are you?" (including me) - I abdicate responsibility for my own life, I communicate the message that my life is not under my control.

What's true, what's actually happening with my in-box is this: A message comes in and I make it a point to respond immediately, then delete it. The ball is in their court. If it's a plan I'm dealing with, I write it down on a calendar. If a message contains something that necessitates action, I write it on a to-do list.

In this way, there is no written or visual record of my commitments to others, my relationships, my plans, my creativity, my goings-on. My only currency is action.

No wonder it's anxiety inducing. I'm staring into a kind of void. I have nothing to show to anyone. It's all show and no tell. And by doing this, I'm acting in accordance with my own deep understanding of what it means to be responsible and authentic.

So there.

The Void

I feel nervous when my in-box is empty. And I know why. It's because it makes me feel like nothing is going on, no one is relying on me for anything or demanding anything from me. And then I think: Isn't that the kind of things people say when they talk about weekends or vacations? And isn't that good?

Oh, the funny traps we create for ourselves.

I'm going to empty it again.

I am not not blogging. Exciting stuff happening on the private practice front. Great conversations. Lots of enthusiasm. Buy in from my father. That's huge. More to come.

The Bad Back and The Good Book

Update on my physical condition: My sciatic nerve thing is better, sort of. It changes. During the day, it's not too bad unless I'm sitting on the ground, which I rarely do, or walking for a long time, which is also rare. I am trying to ice it as much as possible and actually had two changes to do that during the day today, once in a meeting at work (first time I've actually been on my back for an entire meeting) and once for 20 minutes at the chiropractor. During the evening, it's excruciating.

I usually go to bed and it's so-so, then I wake up in the middle of the night, wincing. I have to take a hot shower, douse myself in Ben-Gay, take two Tylenol, then ice it and hope I can fall asleep again. This only happened once last night, so I'm thinking I'm on the mend.

The strain in my neck from Tuesday night was better most of the day. I had the chiropractor work on it, which seemed to help. But, now, it's back to where it was yesterday. I am tired and really want to go to sleep, but icing both injuries is probably the best course of action. Argh. Thankfully tomorrow is Friday.

Although, I have created coaching work for myself this weekend. This is wonderful, but I don't know that I'm going to be as prepared as I would like because I've not had a lot of focused time to work on particulars of these meetings.

What more?

My theater class ended tonight, but it's going to pick up again with the same crew of people in a couple of weeks. That's very good news. I'm really enjoying working with these folks. It's so refreshing, too, because it's mostly physical, non-verbal work that we're doing, there isn't a great emphasis on small talk with one another and, as a result, I feel like there is far less ego in the room than their might otherwise be. I have been meaning to post more about the content of these classes, because there are direct and pretty exciting parallels I can make between the content of this class and the rest of my life. I feel like it's my entire life distilled into a physical form - the body - and a finite period of time, three hours 2 night per week. It makes life tangible. I love it. Certainly much more to say on that. The important thing tonight was just to get some words out.

A book finally came for me in the mail today. It's called The Body-Speak Manual, and it's by a guy named Samuel Avital, who is a mime trained by Etienne Decroix and who started the Centre du Silence in Boulder, Colorado. I got a book of his a few years ago and really enjoyed his philosophical writing about the art of silence. I found it incredibly profound and, well, true. From his work as a mime and as a teacher, he developed a method of developing "kinesthetic intelligence." It's all about being present in your body in order to experience life more fully.

Pretty simple, actually. And yet SO incredibly rare. I'm psyched to dive into it. Maybe I'll start now, while I'm icing my back.

Robot Boy

Every couple of months, I spend about five days walking around like a robot due to pain in my neck and upper back. I can always tell when it's coming and make it worse by bending my neck and back, trying to "work out the kinks."

It's classic, right? Intending to make things better - to bring relief in the short term - I end up making things worse and suffering more and for longer. Not a very good model to live by.

And yet, despite this whole train of thought barreling through my mind last night as I noticed the first early signs of strain, there I was, palm to chin, forcing my head to one side and then the other. Streeeeetch. Ahhhh. Oh, wait. No. Ouch.

Repeat.

It's totally irrational.

And now I am three-quarters robot, sitting here at work, and preventing myself from stretching is almost worse than the pain.

Am I capable of just sitting still all day? That's the question this is presenting me with. Can I just be quiet and still and small? Well, if how I'm reacting is any indication, the answer is no, I am not capable of sitting still all day. Do I have any assurance that the situation would improve if I did make the effort to sit still? No, I don't.

So, then the question is: Do I choose the predictable, painful route - continuing to stretch for that momentary relief, that sense of control? Or do I do what I am fairly certain will not make it worse, but will not necessarily catapault me down the road to relief (it's likely to get worse or stay that same before it gets better)?

This is the conundrum.

Maybe I'll make a different choice today, and stay still and silent. That means remaining mindful of the pain all day, though, and that prospect is exhausting. Typically, for me, too, that means complaining about it to others. Which is boring. So then the charge is to be still, quiet, silent and humble - not trying to rein anyone else into my little drama.

And all of this because I favor sleeping on my stomach with my neck turned, which causes the strain, which leads me down this path.

Indeed, it's all interconnected.

Off to work!

Back to Work

I would be lying if I didn't admit that this impromptu four day weekend had had its perks - among them, working on coaching stuff (including making a list of possible topics for the blog!) hanging with the cat, taking very slow walks through that forced me to look more closely at things, and, finally, getting Andi back from her reporting trip to Scotland
see andisbigadventure.blogspot.com. Nonetheless, I'm glad to be going back to work.

I feel a bit foolish because, although the addition of Tylenol and Ben-Gay and ice into my regimen has improved my experience of the injury, I don't think my condition has improved empirically. Well, I guess I'll just file today under the question: What's it like to coach clients when you can't concentrate?

Speaking of coaching - my brain is so full of coaching questions and technique from reading and thinking about it this weekend, that I'm worried I'm going to be paralyzed. I've noticed this before, that when I begin reading a lot about coaching methods and process, it results in worry. I think it's because the coaching process unfolds on its own time and in its own way while a book requires an order, and that makes it look like there's a particular way to do things. I know that's not true, but there's no small part of me that wishes, sometimes, that it were true. I wish it were more formulaic and predictable. I don't, of course. But I do, too.

Thinking about these faux-coaching sessions that I'm going to start, for real, this weekend, is what's got me worried. See, I've created this questionairre for people to fill out before what I'm calling the initiation meeting (does that sound too cultish? I'm keeping it for now). It's got 20 "big" questions on it. "What do you most value?" "List three or four formative experiences in your life." Questions that seem so familiar but which I think people rarely sit down and think about deliberately. Questions that we either assume we already know the answers to, or that we assume we'll have time to sit down and consider tomorrow, or the next day.

Perhaps that's the first benefit of coaching: Someone who has come to a point where they are prepared to consider such questions meets someone who is at their best asking them. Hmmmm.

Anyway, some of what's running through my head:

"Why, after someone answered these questions, would they need to talk about the answers? Isn't the work basically done then?"

"How do you go from asking someone these question to coaching them? I mean, what do you expect people to seek out a coach for, really?"

That second question is partly a product of the work I've been doing for the past seven months. My clients didn't actually ask to be coached and, frankly, even after months of coaching, some don't really "get" what it's all about. The big difference with private practice is going to be that people in need are going to seek out my services.

I hope.

Okay, off to work. More on this later, to be sure!

My Back Hurts: Day 5

I lasted nearly 5 hours without waking up with the piercing pain shooting down my right leg. That's much better than the previous three nights. Something to celebrate, indeed.

Nonetheless, here I am, standing at the kitchen counter at 2:44 am, an ice pack attached by a belt to my lower back, typing away. Dr. Lew - my chiropractor - finally called back yesterday - twice; to make up, I suppose, for not calling me back Friday, Saturday or Sunday - and told me I shouldn't be taking Tylenol, but Advil; that I should knock off the Ben-Gay; and should be icing my back twenty minutes at a time, in the 90/90 position, so as to have the greatest chance of reducing inflammation around the sciatic nerve. Or something. I'm booked to see him for one this afternoon.

It's good, sometimes, to keep odd hours the way I have been the last few days. It lends an unusual perspective to things, catches the mind and body off guard. There are times when I awake in the middle of the night with a tremendous amount of energy and direct it almost exclusively into feeling stressed that I'm not sleeping.

I get the rationale, but really it's kind of ridiculous. What a waste. Who knows what might become of such a natural upswelling of life.

I wonder if a person only gets a certain number of those in their life before they just stop - before the world just kind of shrugs and says, "Well, I did what I could" and moves on to inspiring someone else.

Personal Responsibility

So there's this issue of keeping my job or opening a private practice that I want to address here:

First of all, I have to confess, it doesn't even sound real when I talk about this as a choice I have to make. Now there's an interesting phenomenon:

Whenever I assert myself as the designer of my own life in any obvious way -- I am Eric, hear me roar! -- I default to this sense that the choices I encounter are somehow unreal. That is, when I am faced with the reality that I alone am responsible for the direction of my life, I try to wriggle out of it by convincing myself that the choice isn't even "real." I give away my personal power.

Contrast that to when I'm involved with others -- at work, for example, or in the counseling collective of which I am a part. In those contexts, I generally regard choices as "real" and carrying serious, real-world consequences, like getting fired or kicked out. And why? Because when I perceive others -- particularly people like colleagues and more experienced collective members -- as my superiors, I actively avoid the fact that I and I alone am responsible for what happens in my life.

So where does that leave me and my coaching practice?

Well, it leaves me afraid, frankly. It leaves me staring down two separate and not at all equal paths.

Down the path of risk - of private practice - it is plain as day that my choices will lead to unknowable consequences for which I will be very obviously responsible.

Down the path of safety and security - of keeping my job - I can be assured that showing up day after day, doing what I have agreed to do, is all that will ever be required of me. I can step up when I choose. I can hang back when I choose. It is unlikely that I will have to confront, head on, the reality of personal responsibility -- and no one will ever demand that of me.

Wow. No wonder people who make it on their own are so goddamn proud of themselves.

And what will I decide? Really, at this point I don't know.

Is it cowardly to come to this understanding and turn away, to choose safety and security?

Probably.

Until next time, improve.

My Back Hurts: Day 4

I've been laid up in the apartment since Friday with a back injury sustained while jumping around like an animal in the theater class I'm taking.

Did I need a reminder that I'm turning 31 next week. No. I did not. Nonetheless, here I sit, the smell of Ben-Gay wafting up into my nostrils, mixing with the smell of the broccoli and carrots I just steamed for lunch; downing Tylenol Extra Strength, Quick Release capsules.

Yikes.

I hate missing work. Partly, this is because I love what I do, and partly it's because work as a measure of self-worth was carved into so deeply and so long ago that I've been unable to buff it away with even the coarsest grades of self-development work. But I'm not stewing. Oh, no. Instead, I've been asking myself that most difficult of questions -- the one that my cynical self would never have asked a couple of years ago. Wait for it ...

How is this an opportunity?

Now, it's not as though I've answered it to my intellectual or emotional satisfaction. Rather, I've been answering it by what I've been doing. And what I've been doing is creating a ton of coaching material -- about 90% of what's going to go on my Website, like FAQs, list of services, pricing, biography, mission statement; the site map; some documents that will help with my work-flow. And I'm very excited about that.

I'm still holding out on getting the actual site built because I still think that a decent name for the business is going to bubble to the surface any minute.

Actually, I don't know how I'm going to get the site built. I don't have money to pay for it, so I'm going to have Andi help me with it, or just get one of those easy-peezy DIY sites. I want it to look like the real thing, though. Most coaching Website are so outrageously lame - I refuse to add another to the steaming pile.

Ah-hem. Sorry.

All of this is a boon to my morale since I had to cancel the first of the faux-coaching sessions that I had scheduled for Saturday with some very brave friends and friends of friends.

So ... yeah.

Andi and I are entering into negotiations about our next move. It's been frustrating so far - but much of my frustration, if I'm honest, is coming from my own uncertainty and really has nothing to do with Andi. I took a good look at this the other night using a method of working through stuff that I have no idea where I picked up. Basically, I wrote out a dialogue between two of my personas. One who was waffling about what to do and the other who was going to continually ask pointed questions.

Well, it was clear right away, that the decision I have to make for myself is whether I want to continue with my current job or jump headlong into the private practice thing.

This post is getting long, I'm going to save that question for the next posting.

Until then, be better.

The Beginning

Okay, here goes. Fingers pinching nose - I'm diving in.

Scream. Splash.

I am a life coach - the resident expert on all things related to personal transformation and the art/craft of coaching, which is increasingly near and dear to my heart.

I am going to address here the day to day stuff of personal transformation and let you in on the process of the creation of my private coaching practice.

So there.

Phew, I've begun.