Let Life Unfold
In 2006 I quit an office job in Washington, D.C. that was draining the life out of me with no plan in place for what came next.
It had become painfully clear I needed a different path, but I had no idea what that path would be.
After a few months of trying to listen to where my gut and the universe wanted me to head next — a novel practice for me at the time, being a lifelong worrier and over-doer — I saw that a massage school program in San Diego I'd heard good things about was starting in two weeks, and something in me told me to hustle across the country to get to it.
The ideal living arrangement (with perfect-for-me roommates, a few blocks from the beach and a few blocks from the massage school) almost effortlessly lined itself up, and I was off.
By the time I got to San Diego I'd blown most of what little savings I had on a trip to South America, the move back to the west coast, and a surfboard.
So I was looking for a way to supplement my new coffee shop job — which was a few blocks from my house and I was serendipitously given despite having zero barista experience — income.
I remember saying out loud, "You know what I'd really love? A few-day-a-week office gig that offers some stable income doing something I'm interested in and something in line with this new path I'm on."
I opened the city paper the next day to an ad for a 2-day-a-week admin job in the Life Coaching Department of the Tony Robbins Company.
At the time, I didn't really even know who he was, so I Googled him. And since people had for years joked that I was like their life coach, I emailed my resume over, and got the job.
In the time I was there, I sat in on tele-classes with coaches, edited coach bios, put together coaching newsletters, listened to all kinds of coaching programs, went to a live event, and went through two rounds of coaching myself.
But the thought never seriously crossed my mind that I was meant to be a coach myself. Even when I started doing what was essentially nutrition coaching with clients.
A coach even suggested the coaching path to me and I did some brainstorming on business names and workshop ideas. But it just didn't take hold.
In hindsight, it seems a little crazy that I couldn't see where all this was heading given all the synchronistic arrivals of one "just what I needed at the perfect moment" circumstance after another in those years.
I'd leapt into a new phase of life in faith that the net would appear, and it was appearing all over the place. I just didn't always realize it at the time.
It wasn't until a few years later that I started thinking about formally becoming a coach myself.
But that's how it is. We're ready for what we're ready for when we're ready for it.
We can't force things. Especially the things that are stirring in the deepest parts of us.
Those parts of us are vulnerable and tender; they need some time to get strong enough to rise above the surface and be exposed to the elements.
When something awakens in us and we realize we want to find and follow our purpose in life, there can be a sense of urgency.
Once we sense how vitally important it feels to be doing something that fulfills us and contributes positively to this life, we want to be doing it now.
But sometimes what's called for is to let it be. To give that new seedling time to settle in and take root.
It takes some kind attention and nurturing to invite the bud to rise up and, eventually, for the flower to be ready to open at its own pace.
Trying to force new parts of ourselves to emerge before they've had enough time to marinate would be like trying to use a wrench to pry a flower bud to open. It would destroy the flower, and it would frustrate us.
It's said that urgency is the voice of fear.
And when we're feeling fearful — that things might not work out, that maybe we're not capable, that it might be painful like it was before — we tend to start forcing.
And when we're forcing forcing forcing, bulldozing our way toward some fixed goal, our focus gets so narrow that we start to miss the bigger picture and ignore the feedback life is giving us about where and how we're focusing our attention.
But when you notice you're getting narrow and contracted — and you do have to commit to noticing — you can choose to take a step back and notice what's going on around you.
What response is life giving to your input?
Where does your energy feel like it wants to lead you?
Are circumstances, people, and resources aligned with your goal popping up, or not so much?
Sometimes we put out a call for something we want and notice all kinds of synchronicity leading us toward it. It's feedback saying, "Yes, keep going, you're on the right path."
But other times we try with all our might to make something happen, but what we really hear in response are crickets.
At that point we can close our eyes and resist that feedback and try to muscle forward anyway, or we can use that feedback as a cue to assess how aligned we're really feeling with the path we're on, and make adjustments as appropriate.
And really, what's the rush?
Most of us have spent a very long time adding layers of fear-driven small “s” self to our authentic big “S” Self.
So our truest purpose sometimes takes some time to find us, and we often need some time to be ready to welcome it.
But if you attentively focus in a heart-centered way on just this one step, and now just this one step, on your path again and again, you'll notice that the perfect things will start to come up in the perfect ways at the perfect time.
And when the circumstances are ripe, that bud will open without an ounce of forcing required.
You can just keep showing up, trust the process, and enjoy life's unfolding.
Lots of Love,