What's Your Hurry?

I've puttered the weekend away. I weeded the garden, cut some fresh flowers for the house, moved some gravel in the driveway, washed some windows, and spent quite a bit of time in the hammock reading. I must admit I felt occasional twinges of guilt about my indulgence, but not enough to overcome my pleasure. 

Around all this self-imposed down time, I shuttled canoeists who were paddling the Manistee River near my home. The “put-in” was not too bad. They picked me up at my home about 5:30 on Friday evening, bought me dinner, and we drove to their put-in campsite. That night, they camped and I brought their vehicle home with me. Reportedly, they were on the river by 5:30 Saturday morning. The “take-out” was another story. My phone rang about 11:30 Saturday night. They were ready to be picked up as they had decided to do the entire weekend trip in one spurt, 100 miles in less than 24 hours. I got up, dressed, made a pot of coffee and headed for the take-out landing.

It was a beautiful night. The moon was full and casting shadows. It was a crisp night and the fog was settling in. At the take-out, I could hear a partridge drumming. And the deer were everywhere. I can only imagine how beautiful it must have been paddling that river after dark. I've paddled at night before. It's truly an exotic and eerie experience. But most of my night paddling has been out of necessity, to escape a bear who has made my camp his home or because the fish were biting.

And truly, I can only imagine the beauty these paddlers experienced, because they were too tired to talk about it. I'm totally confused as to why a group of good friends would want to spend a whole day and half a night on the river without hardly speaking or seeing each other and subjecting themselves to the food one must eat while moving in a canoe without the benefit of a campfire. They didn't even paddle together as the group arrived at the take-out over the course of the next four hours.

Many of us do the same thing in our daily lives. We push and strive to get somewhere, to get ahead, to beat the clock in some way, to attain something, to make good on a promise. And when we reach our destination we have little or no memory of the experience because we've often taken it on alone or, in our haste, left our partners behind. We're stiff and tired. We are even too tired to share our experience with anyone as the thought of restoration is the only thing that permeates our mind.

Today, I'm enjoying a beautiful Sunday morning with more of the same quiet reflection and small chores ahead of me. I imagine my canoeing friends are sound asleep. Any day, I’ll take the sweet obsessions that wander through my thoughts and daydreams over the mania that now demands their dreamless sleep.

“One of the great disadvantages of hurry is that it takes such a long time.” ~G. K. Chesterton

“Rivers know this: there is no hurry. We shall get there some day.” ~Winnie the Pooh

“Nature does not hurry. Yet everything is accomplished.” ~Lao Tzu

The Portage Trail

I named my business Portage because I love backcountry canoeing and fishing. And my favorite part of these backcountry activities is portaging from one lake to another, either to continue my canoeing route or to find the next great fishing lake. 

Portage means carrying a canoe or boat over land to avoid a water obstacle like rapids or a waterfall or to get from one navigable water body to another. I found the definition a wonderful metaphor for what I do as a coach.

As a coach, I help folks navigate their personal transitions, from where they are at the moment to where they want to be and, at the same time, discover and deal with the obstacles they need to go around.

Portaging generally requires unloading the boat or canoe and carrying it and its contents over the portage trail. If it's a portage that many have taken before you, the path can be quite clear of obstacles and easy to navigate. On other portages a trail must be blazed and the terrain can be very difficult.

As a coach, I do the same, helping my clients decide what they want to take with them on their next transition and what no longer serves them and is best left behind. I help you find the path that others may have taken before. And if there is no similar path, I help you blaze a new trail.

To portage efficiently, a tump line on your pack, which goes around your forehead, and a yoke or tump line on your canoe are valued tools. The tump line sounds awkward but with the bearing of your load beginning at your forehead, it helps distribute that weight evenly and efficiently down your spine. It's incredibly more efficient than having your load begin at your shoulders. This is the way the early voyageurs and natives managed their portages.
I guess I could have named my business Tump Line or Yoke as a metaphor for those things that make the Portage easier, but they're not very pretty words. You'd all be laughing and the “yoke” would be on me. But as a coach, I do have a wealth of "tools" to help you transition with the least amount of discomfort.

Portages can be very short as in a few rods or meters to many miles or kilometers in length. And all portages, by their nature, are the result of elevation changes. Either the destination lake is higher or lower than the one you are leaving, or the land between two bodies of water rises and falls, or, as in the case of a river, the elevation of the river changes dramatically creating swift rapids or a waterfall that must be safely portaged around. This results in all portages involving some climbing and/or descending.

This is not unlike a personal transition, although the elevation changes are emotional rather than physical. I've discovered over the years that there are four distinct stages in every transition. First is the stage I call Discomfort where one is reluctant, fearful, uncertain and often reactive and edgy. The second stage I call
Going Internal but it is no less emotional as one becomes more contemplative, protective, spiritual, and often detached and withdrawn. Can you picture the portage trail? So far it's an uphill trek with a heavy load. In the
third stage, Exploration, we begin to feel like we have some direction. We're beginning to crest the peak of the portage trail and we can often look ahead instead of constantly down at our feet in order to avoid pitfalls. We find new reserves of energy and become optimistic, confident and even eager. This is the stage where our vision for the future begins to emerge, much like reaching the peak of the portage trail. And the final and fourth stage is Renaissance. We become committed and creative as everything begins to feel possible. We move at a faster pace. On the portage trail, this is the wonderful downhill stage where the new vista is clearly in front of you and your load is lighter as you shift from trudging uphill to flowing downhill.

The thing to remember about portages, as in transitions, is that Renaissance feels like it will last forever. But sooner or later we become restless. Then we find ourselves looking for the next portage and the newness it holds at the other end.

"Do not go where the path may lead, go instead where there is no path and leave a trail." ~Ralph Waldo
Emerson

Thanks for listening and humoring me this month. See you on the Portage.

Transitions

I'm fresh back from our Life Transitions retreat in the Virgin Islands. What a wonderful group of adventurous individuals we had this year. My co-host, Patt Osborne, and I would like to thank all who attended. This one was the best ever. 

So, as you can imagine, I still had transitions in mind when I sat down to write and so I thought I’d share some of the things we learned at the 2006 Rest of Your Life Retreat.

So in celebration of my 10th year of Transition Coaching...

"It's never too late to become what you might have been." ~George Eliot

Transitions can be as soft as a whisper or as loud as an earthquake.

Sometimes a transition starts as an internal shift, as in a new way of looking at things. Sometimes, a transition is brought on by external forces like a job transfer or loss of someone near to you.

Every transition is accompanied by a shift in the way we identify ourselves. If we plan the transition, the identity shift is often a prelude to the actual, physical changes in our life. If the transition is driven by outside forces, our identity is often forced to catch up. Either way, a big part of every transition is reconciling our old beliefs with our new identity

Using our intuition is critical to a smooth transition. We can transition more deeply and more profoundly by paying very close attention to our intuitive insights, that inner voice of our authentic desires. 

When we allow our desires, and allow ourselves to become one who already has whatever it is we're wanting, we bring more of our authentic selves to the transition. These desires provide direction and clues to our path, a path where what we want includes who we are.

In that moment when we allow our desires to come from our authenticity, our transition ceases to come from us, but rather through us. We must then, be receptive to something greater.

Often, in the process of “acting on” our transition, the creative option of “allowing” ourselves to be receptive to that greater force is missed.

We merely must wait and be attentive to its arrival of that which we desire.

It is far more beautiful, graceful and gratifying to become attractive and receive than to chase things.

Slow down, tune in, and heed the inner call. As you transition, be ready, willing, and able to accept your new identity.

"Any transition serious enough to alter your definition of self will require not just small adjustments in your way of living and thinking but a full-on metamorphosis." ~Martha Beck

A Fly In My House

There's a fly in my house. It has been here for two days. It's smaller and looks different than the house flies I've seen all winter. And it's bigger than a fruit fly, so I know it didn't come from the bananas in the kitchen. I'm excited. It's the first sign of spring! This fly may be a misfit, but I'm pretty attracted to the misfits of this world and thrilled to have it in my life.

So it was a short leap from this misfit, the fly, to this month's newsletter. Hey, no excuses for the strange wanderings of my mind. That's the point.

The Top Ten Ways to Enjoy Being a Misfit:

1. What causes you to be labeled a misfit is the very thing that makes you an individualist. Explore it! 
2. Your “misfit-ness” is often your strength. Hone it!
3. If being a misfit looks like fun, others will follow you. Flaunt it!
4. Every circumstance in  which you find yourself unsuitable is an opportunity to learn something new. Uncover it!
5. When you stand out, you have a better chance of being heard. Say it!
6. People will talk about you. Use it!
7. Expanding on that which makes you different will elevate you to one of a kind. Enjoy it!
8. Misfits often look at things from slightly different angles. Notice it!
9. Misfits tend to question accepted views and to consider contradictory ones. Challenge it!
10. Just like the fly in my house, if you're the only one out there, the lanes are wide open! Floor it! 

First, ask yourself “Am I a misfit in any way?” And if so, don't concern yourself with hiding or compensating for it. But instead, ask yourself, “How can I expand that to other areas of my life?” Because today's misfit is tomorrow's maverick.

“Man is physically as well as metaphysically a thing of shreds and patches, borrowed unequally from good and bad ancestors, and a misfit from the start” ~Ralph Waldo Emerson

Fishing Lesson

Besides being an absolute blast, fishing has taught me a few things about repositioning myself to get out of old habits in order to experience new things. Some fishing days you're right on. You've got the right lure, with the right color. You've found the perfect spot and you're retrieving the lure or trolling at the ideal speed. The day is good. The weather conditions are outstanding (which in the world of fishing could mean high winds and rain). The fish are really biting and you can do nothing wrong.

The next day you repeat the same activities, lures, timing and location and nothing will bite. You're still feeling the adrenaline from the outstanding day before and so the temptation is to continue to repeat the patterns that worked so well just a day ago. You've just developed a bad habit…sticking with something that rewarded you once but is no longer working. You've got to change if you want to have more fun. You have to experiment with color, patterns and location and let the fish tell you what they want. Yes, you've got to be able to trust your equipment. But more importantly, you've got to trust your instincts.

If our position is familiar and comfortable, one we know well, and standing in that position has rewarded us in the past, it can be a very stale place if it's no longer working for us.

Hey, what's not working for you these days? Are you not seeing it clearly? Try repositioning yourself. First look at it straight on and then look at it from all angles. Try some new tools or equipment. Change your schedule. Get messy and use your intuition. Try a new pattern. What's the worse that can happen? New insight and perspective is always a good thing.

"When you are reluctant to face something, you are not positioned to see it clearly." ~Pam McConnell