The Word Coach
Issue 73 is a lot about me, sorry.
Greetings, loved ones.
Since we spoke last, my youngest kiddo Emma turned nine. She’s felt nine for at least ten years now.
We’re’re going to House of Air trampoline park to bounce our pants off this weekend. Expect an update in Issue 74 (or not). Until then, hold onto your hat, er, pants.
Three Little Words
The title of this week’s issue is three little words that please me:
The
Word
Coach
The word coach has multiple meanings, which is why I love it.
This phrase popped into my brain as I recalled a conversation with a friend about my word choice in a recent issue of The Letter. You may remember, I said I’d be adding coaching to my services, and the word coach gave her pause.
Everyone thinks they’re a coach. It’s a free-for-all. What about real coaches who are accredited by the International Coaching Federation? How can I call myself a coach when I haven’t any training? These are valid questions. Here’s one perspective:
I’m self-taught. I spent 30 years in therapy, and I read voraciously on personal growth and spirituality. I conduct experiments on myself (Can I stop drinking alcohol? What will happen if I do?) and talk to everyone I can about their lives. Through this, I aggregate patterns like a scientist. I couldn’t stop if I tried. I’m born to listen and dispense advice (which at least ten experts advise against). But, for every perspective, there’s another, and another, and another. Advice for some, none for others. There’s room for all of us in this crazy world.
I’m no more qualified, or even as qualified, as the next person. But, I live an emotionally-tidy life (after decades of anxiety). My passion is personal growth and connection. Therefore my thinking and living come from this place (and have since I can remember). I’m human. I struggle. I triumph. I relate. That makes me qualified to coach.
Quick aside: My friend who questioned my word choice, was NOT implying I’m unqualified—as an advice-giver, advocate, or conversationalist. She simply feels the word coach holds significance that my style and qualifications don’t match. Fair! She’s recently become an accredited coach, and my tossing this word around willy-nilly is a little annoying.
Still, one of my contributions to this world is offering guidance to those who wish to live with more ease—something I work at daily. Be it coach or another word, what I offer doesn’t change.
Musical Interlude
You’re welcome.
Psst… Double Meanings Stick
I know I’m onto a concept when I can poke it from multiple angles, and the equation works. The word coach is one such string of words that pleases me for that reason, and these:
I coach brands on how to communicate with their customers—through words.
I coach people on their relationship with themselves and what orbits around them—through words.
I coach people on the words they use with themselves and others.
The phrase the word coach describes the noun, coach.
I’ll unfurl this word-coaching stuff with you in the coming issues (and make it worth your while). We’re in this together, right? ;)
Thanks for listening, and for being here. 🙏
Poll Time!
A Real-Life Coaching Example
My brow lady (yes, I have a brow lady) mentioned her twin 17-year-old girls and her guilt over dating “in front of them.” She’s a single mom. She isn’t sure if her kids see her dating as healthy and fun or some other way. She feels guilty when she goes out.
Listening to her, I asked, “What if you shared your experience with them? You could say: ‘Ladies, I wonder how you see my dating. I worry about it sometimes. I love you so much. I want you to know I’m here for you. And, mama wants to have some fun. What’s your experience? How does it feel to you when I have plans throughout the week?’”
L💡ghtbulb!
She had never thought of sharing her feeling-experience with her kids. Many parents have no idea this is an option. They adopt the “adult” role so heavily they forget to show their children they’re human. They fear putting big feelings onto small people or causing their children to worry about them. Alas, there’s a huge difference between dumping your feelings on someone because you can’t hold them and sharing your experience. I could write an entire letter on this topic alone (perhaps I will).
“Oh, my god. It’s so obvious now that you say it. Of course, that’s what I’ll do!” she said.
Look how quickly she bypassed guilt (with an unknown end) by talking with her daughters that evening.
I followed up the next day…
Wondering leaks energy. Asking patches holes.
Final note, wonder on its own is wonder-ful. However, wondering about someone else’s thoughts, feelings, and actions is a BIG waste of your energy. Just ask.
Fly Paper
How to fold a winning-distance paper airplane. Because, why not?
PS: Did you know the lyrics to Three Little Birds is: Three little birds pitch by my doorstep! I did not.
“There’s a huge difference between dumping your feelings on someone because you can’t hold them and sharing your experience.”
I hope you write a whole edition on this!
P.S. I voted for The Word Coach rebrand option because I see you as a natural coach.
Love the distinction between feeling wonder and wondering: And it’s damn hard to ask sometimes.