I thought I wanted to be a coach. I’ve been working as a rock climbing coach for five years, and I worked as an outdoor educator (often coaching) for years before that. One of my rock climbing athletes is a wildly successful executive/leadership coach, and he repeatedly told me that I’m good at what I do and I should consider working for him too. He offered to fill the mentor role, and more than anything, my ego was flattered— someone who had ‘made it’ in the industry saw potential in me. I figured I’d explore this and maybe open doors to new paths, clients, income. At the very least it would make me better at my current coaching job, which I care deeply about.
I signed up for a coaching program, ready for transformation, certainty, a path to help people, a way to make more money. I spoke to people I respected— “I knew that THESE WERE MY PEOPLE when I walked into the room” (or in his case, Zoom meeting). It was four days long. I committed to being fully bought in. I think socially it’s cool to be a skeptic, and uncool to be fully excited about something. I wanted to be aware of that, knowing that we were spending money to learn tools and have personal growth and transformation, my in laws flew across the country to watch my baby, etc. etc. I was bought in, ready to experience personal transformation, and take the first step towards career and financial freedom.
After the first day, I felt ambivalent. I walked out of the office building eager to see my baby and unsure of what I had just learned. I went to sleep that night slightly delirious and visualizing experiencing mind, body, and soul transformation the next day. Two more days of the same— it was interesting, but did this ignite my soul on fire? No. In our practice sessions, I think I did a reasonably good job and gave fine feedback. But was I inspired to spill my soul and commit to building a business of my own? No. By the fourth day, we exchanged feedback. Others were crying, glistening, glowing. I expressed my genuine appreciation for everyone’s time, help, and vulnerability, but I knew in my heart this wasn’t my path.
I nervously approached Jake. I had been SO excited and sure that this was going to be my path, a flexible career that I could do while raising our babies, worth every penny and second in training to learn. I told him it wasn’t for me. He looked at me sweetly, “I know that.” And to my complete and utter surprise he verbalized the blurry thought living in my head: “You want to write a mom blog.”
I haven’t been able to find a better way to put it than 'mom blog',’ though I feel self conscious stating this as my truest truth career goal. I want to write and think and share and help others do the same. I have so many interests— training, philosophy, mindset, food, rock climbing, expeditions, personal growth, gardening. I had a hard time picturing how I could build a thread that’s niche-less. But recently, i’ve realized that they all fall under the umbrella of my main purpose, passion, and career— motherhood. There’s an entire book to write on the role of a mother in my life, in a family, and in society. But for now, I’ll say that through my own matrescence (evolving into motherhood and leaving maidenhood behind), there’s a serenity and clarity i’ve only felt a few other times in my life— a total intuition, higher self, God centered knowing that isn’t in the head but is in the heart. It’s not in feelings or reason or lists. One of those times was knowing I wanted to spend my life with Jake. One was knowing that we were ready for a baby to come into our lives. And one of those times is my certainty that I am a writer and that I want to share our lives through this medium
So here’s my commitment to press publish and to make time to put words and beautiful photos on paper throughout the week. Because as i’ve learned in EVERY other facet of my life (training, cleaning, eating well and so many more): “don’t wait for inspiration. It comes while working.” —Henry Matisse