"Coaching Moments" takes a thoughtful, and sometimes light-hearted,
look at how coaching can be interwoven into our daily lives.
Shaking off the shoulds
by Janice Hunter
The notes I handle no better than many pianists. But the pauses between the notes — ah, that is where the art resides.
Artur Schnabel
I opened the kitchen curtains this morning to an eerie brightness and snow falling silently outside.
My
kids' delight in the snow is not contagious. After I packed them off to
school, wrapped up, laughing and excited, I sat down at the kitchen
table, hugging a steaming mug of coffee as I remembered my own
childhood winters, trudging through blizzards to school, with frozen,
aching fingers and toes, breathing in damp wool from the scarf I'd been
mummified in.
So,
no ski slopes, toboggans and brightly coloured bobble hats for me, I'm
afraid. Snow's for Christmas, when the tree tops glisten, Bing and Dean
croon, fairy lights twinkle outside on snowy conifers and I snuggle up
in front of the fire with a feel good film and something yummy. Today
I'm having a snow day. No ice-dancing with other cars on roads like ice
rinks; I'm staying in and going nowhere.
It's
all too easy to let the shoulds gently freeze out the To Be list, the
fun and the wants, till you can't even remember what they were – but
today I'm giving myself a day off.
A
day off from self-imposed routines and unquestioned obligations; a day
off from marketing emails designed to make me feel anxious and lacking.
A day where no-one cares whether I have a niche or not.
But
having a snow day doesn't mean that nothing gets done. It's often in
moments of silence, idleness or mundane activity that inspiration and
creativity take us by surprise.
I've
whizzed through the cleaning and clutter, choosing to tackle the
windows to let in more of the bright snow light. I've ignored the
ironing but cleared out an entire kitchen cupboard instead, just for
that glorious feeling you get as you bag up objects you neither love
nor need. I've listened to an inspiring audio clip from Byron Katie's
new book, 'A Thousand Names for Joy' and I've done some chatty email
coaching, slurping hot chocolate with whipped cream, marshmallows and
chocolate sprinkles, glad I've not got a webcam. And the avalanche of
marketing emails in my inbox? To unsubscribe, click here Click…. Click….Click….
While
I've been sitting here writing, it's stopped snowing and some of the
snow has thawed. I've just watched a laurel branch bounce back from
under its burden of snow, launching it like a catapult.
That's
how I feel as I shake off the shoulds, the rest of my snow day
beckoning me like our snow covered front garden, silently waiting to
share its treasure when the kids come home.
I
might be tempted to build a snow wolf or make some snow angels with
them. Or most likely, I'll put on the kettle and watch them through the
living room window, daydreaming of a new year stretching before me like
an empty beach full of promise, a cinema's COMING SOON trailers, a
tempting pile of unread books, hyacinths hidden in a bowl, a brand new
journal to cuddle up with and bustling pavement cafes full of people to
meet and delicious treats to tempt the senses.
A year of choices, not shoulds.
A Few Days Later…
…a longing fulfilled is a tree of life
Proverbs 13:12 (NIV)
I
burst into the bathroom this morning and sobbed all over my dumbstruck
husband. "I passed… I passed…." He just laughed, shook his head and
held me very tight. Funny thing, relief.
Janice Hunter IAC-CC
LovingtheDetails@aol.com
Janice
lives with her husband and two children in Scotland; she is currently
skipping giddily around the house in her dressing gown, doing a pretty
good impression of Scrooge on Christmas morning.
