As a life coach, I help people who are stuck in problems that feel impossible for them to solve.  If people don’t like their jobs, or that they’re aging, or if they’ve lost their love, I can help them deal with it, fix it up and create a better life.  For this reason, it’s challenging for me to admit how deeply I’ve been affected by the oil spill in the gulf.

I’ve been obsessed with it for weeks now.  I have hardly been able to tear myself away from my computer – checking for updates every few minutes, seeking knowledge about why this was allowed to happen, and trying to understand what the short and long-term consequences are for the Gulf Coast, and for all of us. 

My perception of this disaster is that it is on the same magnitude as September 11th.  Although there is an absence of the startling, dramatic imagery and there have been fewer human lives lost, this catastrophe will shape the way we move forward in a similar way that our lives were changed after September 11th.   What I find much more disturbing is that this catastrophe was caused by the establishment rather than by renegades. I am also saddened that I don’t see the same rallying together as a country with shared vision as we did after the destruction of the World Trade Center.

I’ve continued to write as I’ve watched this disaster unfold, developing the materials for the new self-mastery course I’m offering, even though I’ve had to force myself to do it.   Finally, now, in an act of pure authenticity, I stopped writing about human potential and started writing about my feelings about this oil spill. 

It is hard for me to admit that here is something I am having such difficulty dealing with.  It is even more difficult to figure out realistically what I can do about this spill.  I think of the Serenity Prayer: “God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change; the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference”.   Here I feel devoid of the wisdom to know what I can changes I can make.

As this disaster is clearly something we brought on ourselves, I am so very disappointed at how various elements are marginalizing or avoiding responsibility for the consequences.  Big Oil takes some, but then engages in a public communication campaign that clearly seeks to downplay bad news or shift the discussion.  The government talks about failures and offers promises, but that seems so inadequate.  On a personal level, there’s little discourse on what our individual role has been and should be in the future.

In embracing my responsibility in this tragedy, I remind myself of what I already do to reduce my use of fossil fuels.  I drive infrequently, minimize my use of single use plastics, turn off lights in rooms I’m not using and limit my plane trips.  I absolutely boycotted Exxon for 15 years after Valdez.  I try to put pressure on the government to invest in clean energies.  Yet, when the government can decide to let big oil drill without adequate safe guards, I don’t have a voice loud enough or the power to do anything to prevent it.  I feel so completely powerless.  Feeling simultaneously powerless and passionate is a lot of emotion to hold.

Someone I am close to seems barely affected by this spill at all.  It’s not that he doesn’t care, but he thinks I’m obsessed, and doesn’t see the purpose at being so upset about it.  And part of me does agree with him.  Despite the oil I still am a mother, active in a non-profit, and I run my own business and have a multitude of friends.  How shall I show up for these aspects of my life and contribute authentically to them when my heart feels like it’s breaking for the people and animals of the Gulf Coast?  Each person I encounter in these other areas deserves my full talent and I want to be present that way.  Yet, another part of me feels that addressing the oil disaster is important.

I’m bearing witness to this tragedy and I’m recalibrating my beliefs.  I am holding space in my being for what I call “both/and” as opposed to “either/or.” I feel this duality about this event:  my willingness to experience despair over this catastrophe and yet realizing that this is my life.  I have the capacity to get out of bed in the morning and play with my child, to be present as I smile and laugh with friends even though I rush home and check for new news.

It is clear that as a society we must demand better of our government and industries.  Yet I also am wondering what the deeper message is here.  What is being asked of us, as we continue to watch this disaster unfold?  

After September 11th, the people in this country rallied together.  But now it feels like there is such a deep division and people’s ways of communicating aren’t kind or civil to one another. On the Deep Water Response page on Facebook, there is so much anger and hostility expressed, not only toward BP, but at other peoples’ comments about the spill.  This week I read in the Wall Street Journal that pro-oil lobbyists are holding rallies where people are wearing tee-shirts that read “It’s the JOB climate, stupid!”.    Political rhetoric has turned hateful and demeaning.

Our country seems deeply divided between left and right, but I wonder how much this external division is caused by the internal divisions in our own psyches -- in our own inability to deal with our conflicting emotions, to be willing to feel both powerless and passionate, culpable and innocent, serene and angry about the events in our world?

Instead of looking within ourselves and recognizing that each of us is partially responsible, we look for external scapegoats to direct our anger toward.  This approach, so prevalent in our society and media, drives conversations into absolutes.  This is not useful.

In the calamity that is the Deep Water oil spill, we must insist on alternatives more than being pro-environment or pro-oil.  Perhaps it starts with accepting that within our lives, we own a share of this tragedy and the long-term damage it will inflict.  I can admit to within myself that I enjoy the many gifts the technological revolution has bestowed upon me, that my daughter will have the opportunity to visit with Grandparents who live on other side of the country and that I can plug this computer in to an electrical outlet and have conversations with people on other sides of the world, both literally and politically.  

Yet, I can also see that humanity isn’t reaching our full potential in the way we’re using up these precious resources… not only our oil, but also our lives.  Owning this responsibility challenges me to ask what we can or should change within our lives and within our social communities to mitigate our reliance on fossil fuels as well as how we can live our own lives to be more meaningful, less oriented toward things and more oriented toward appreciating and honoring the natural beauty of people and the world around us.

Yes, I can be deeply horrified by this oil spill and drive a car.  I can feel both completely helpless in the face of such a catastrophe and still be determined to make the small differences that I can.  I can be both terrified of the choices our species is making, wondering if Earth will shake us off like fleas and also have hope that humanity is evolving in to a more enlightened, peaceful and less wasteful species.   It is in this way that I stand and from here that I engage in compassionate dialogue, motivated by love of the ocean and love of humanity, and even still manage to love myself.

We are at a turning point.  The way we hold ourselves and the energy we share with each other will change this world.  It’s not only the job climate and the actual climate  that are at stake here.  It’s the human climate.   It’s how we engage with one another, how we are able to recognize the humanity in each other, even those we disagree with.  It’s how we reclaim our power in ways that are inclusive of all elements of our society.

How do you want to be with this oil spill, to experience the weight and the reality of it?  What is authentic for you?  How do you want to be with yourself and the choices you make in your life for your own family?  How do you want to reach out to others who might not share the same beliefs as yours?  How do we want to be with each other?

Wouldn’t it be nice if one of the consequences of this disaster is that we use our personal energy to create a shared, common future rather than dividing ourselves.

One of my best friends joined the Army Reserves and is now at boot camp.  She sent me a long letter detailing how her basic training is the hardest thing she’s ever done and how punishing it is.  She also described how it’s one of the most transforming experiences of her life. 

While I did not want her to join the Army, I supported her decision, no matter how batty I thought it was.  Reading of her experiences, I am left wondering about a system that trains people by being purposefully mean to them. I fully understand that she and her other new soldiers are training for war, which is, as one General commented, “an ugly thing.”  To prepare for this eventuality, she’s endured intentional, systematic intimidation, sarcasm and cruelty.    As alarmed as I am to hear of what she went through, I try also to reflect on the benefits gained and at what cost. 

I can see some benefit for my friend.  She’s now in the best physical shape of her life and could probably kick my sweet little new earth bootie all of the way back to the yoga retreat I took last fall that I found just so terribly grueling.  Her letter to me also detailed how she has learned a lot about herself and her inner strength.  She is not alone in this regard - many people have expressed that they found the experience very transformational in that it pushed them beyond their accepted limits. 

Yet, I am curious about the long-term impact this experience will have on her person, and on her soul?  How does one’s potential shift if a person is motivated from a place of fear and intimidation versus loving kindness?  Of course, I’ll side with love and kindness to motivate people.  Yet, within our society, there are a number of institutions that rely on this de-humanizing, testosterone-laden approach.  Football teams, fraternities and police forces are a few better known ones. 

I also have a number of friends and business associates who once served in the military and they are some of the most self-disciplined and effective people I know.  So I do recognize that physical and mental challenges in life cause people forge stronger selves in the fire of duress.  The question is:  what is the balance?  And can the same results be achieved in alternative methods?  Or must we all endure 4 a.m. screaming Sergeants if we seek to become the full potential of our lives?

Deconstructing the boot camp experience may offer some insight.  In boot camp, individuals are stripped of their uniqueness (remember Richard Gere’s hair cut in An Officer and A Gentleman?).  They are then physically and mentally pushed beyond what they thought themselves capable.  This process of being taken apart then allows the instructors to put the recruits back together again in a way that is supposed to make them stronger and resilient.  Nonetheless, the military does not encourage individuality – the goal is to create physically tough, but uniform beings so that everyone looks, acts and functions the same way.  And the military wants people to act with the least amount of thought when ordered by their commanders.  If, heaven forbid, my friend is ordered to a combat zone, they want her to respond with “where” and “when” but not “why”.

Is this the only way to  gain such self-growth and inspiration?  As a vinyasa yoga instructor and practicing yogi for number of years, I recognize that a yoga practice that also challenges a person in similar and yet potentially more powerful ways.  While embracing that each person’s yoga practice is her own, a person is challenged in strength, balance and limberness.  Try taking an Army private and having him strike an asana like eka pada galavanasana, flying crow pose, and this highly motivated, physically fit warrior will struggle…unless he’s been a practicing yogi beforehand. 

One can achieve such a pose only after practice and only after setting your mind and training and pushing your body to reach and move through your previous limits. 

So, if yoga offers one option at developing and expanding our physical boundaries, what can one do to move beyond the mental, emotional and perhaps spiritual barriers in our lives?  Having endured the crucible of an obstacle course under-fire, my friend emotes a refreshed abundance of self-confidence.  Certainly, one has options beyond low crawling through the mud and under barb wire with bullets flying overhead to gain a sense of inspired vitality in life.

As a personal life coach, I’ve seen men and women engage in this process and demonstrate tremendous personal courage as they confront emotional and mental barriers in their lives.  One client shared his hopes for a renewed relationship with his sister, whom he had not seen since he was a teenager.  Listening to his excitement, I pressed him on why it was important to him and what he wanted out of this seemingly normal setup.  I challenged him to look harder at his motivation for what millions of siblings do and enjoy all the time – a relationship where they interact routinely.  He admitted, after some soul-searching, that they had gone separate paths after their parents split as he went with their Dad and she with their Mother.  It led to years apart as a result of a bitter, very emotional dissolution of the family.  And, he had felt bad about letting the parental feud keep them apart until the parents passed away and they found fresh ground to renew their relationship.

Armed with this understanding, he talked to his sister about his feelings, asked for her perspective and thoughts.  It turns out, both had latent guilt and anxiety over what happened and sharing their thoughts took not just courage but also cleared their path forward by getting it out in the open and bringing it to some resolution.  Both had set up an emotional barrier and both found the moral courage to reach across it and break it down together.   

Although certainly coaching focuses on finding strength, it is based on individuality, on a person’s unique values, goals, talents, thought processes and nature. Yet I do believe as a coach I benefit from having some of the energy of the drill sergeant – the capacity to be fierce at calling my clients forth in to find their strength.  I can think of nothing I’d want more for my clients than to reach in to themselves and see the magnificent person I see when I look at them, and to push beyond their limits to create the life they imagined.  I’m not going to serve my clients very well if I am a marshmallow.

There are days when we as individuals need a tougher form of love. Many refer to this concept as fierce courage.  It is the willingness for the coach to be fierce and courageous in service to the client.  The big difference between the drill master and me (or should I say one of the big differences) is that my clients as individuals get to choose   This is important for coaching clients to realize - I am prepared to meet my clients where and how they need me to meet them in service to their growth. 

As individuals seeking to grow, we need to embrace that fierceness and discipline.  We need to be called to task when we are falling short of the physical, mental, spiritual, or emotional capacity we have.  We need someone to be relentless at holding us accountable for taming the inner voices that hold us back.  That person can be uncompromising in calling you forth when you’re playing small.  Or they can be gentle and allow you to peel back your layers of resistance, all the while ensuring you make progress. 

Just as my friend’s drill sergeant has gone through specialized training for the physical and mental regime she’s exposed to, a specifically trained person known as a life coach will have the skills I’ve described to help a person move beyond self-imposed emotional, spiritual and yes, physical boundaries that restrict a person’s todays and tomorrows.  When you find a good life coach, you need to be aware of what you need.  Take inventory of where you are on your inner spectrum.  What you need from the coach will be different when you are in a zone of high energy and activity and need to pause and deepen your experience versus when you feel you are having trouble energizing yourself to move forward.  

Second, you need to trust your coach.  He or she is completely in your corner.  As a coach, there is nothing I want more from our relationship than for you to become your version of your best possible self.   Everything I say is because I see that at your essence, you are a magnificent human being.  It’s the stuff that gets in the way of that magnificence – your ego, saboteur, gremlins or demons – that sometimes prevents you from seeing that too. 

In coaching at times, there is a dismantling of the ego, the protective shields a person keeps up around them that prevents the true person from coming forth.  On some level, this probably has something in common with how a drill sergeant breaks down in a person.  Yet, in coaching, when focused on the individual, this is never forced.  It only occurs within your agenda.  The coaching relationship respects your edges so that that transformation can occur at a rate and in a style that suits you, and in service not only to your physical strength, but also the strength of your soul.

That is a huge difference – you get to decide how the coaching relationship will shape you.  I’m not churning out soldiers – you and I are developing your soul, and this process will be guided by your soul’s voice. This makes coaching less of a boot camp and more of a place to grow wings.

My friend’s story of her Army boot camp experience creates a tantalizing thought of creating a new earth boot camp. What would that be like?  Would they make people do 108 sun salutations for failure to make eye contact?  Might the drillmaster smile benignly and say, “Drop and give me 50 chaturanga dandasana, but only if it feels in alignment with your authentic self to do so?” There are interesting intersections in the differences between pushing oneself physically and spiritually.  Both are needed.  Both are of value.  I will be curious to learn how my friend thinks she’s grown with the latter when she stops by when her training is done and we go out for a run.  I’m sure she’ll run circles around me but where will her heart and soul be?  It’s a defining question for each of us in how we see the physical and the spiritual influencing each other. 

And while I may have fun fantasizing about my new age boot camp, my mind drifts back to a dilemma.  I mentioned a variety of institutions within our society that have adopted this harsh, de-humanizing approach – the Army, police departments, fraternities and so forth. From time to time, each of these entities is associated with harsh and sometimes tragic events where the abuse of authority wielded over others results in cruelty and loss of life.  If these approaches are warranted, then what is our responsibility to the people who endure it…to revive and refresh their individuality, personal values, and strength of their soul? 

I am not naïve enough to think a few sun salutations by Army recruits is the answer…but I also know the Drill Sergeant would be better for embracing it. 

My writing assignment for this week was simply to write about the process of writing. What comes up for me when I sit down to write?  As I explored this I learned a lot about how I live my life.

Of course I failed utterly before I even began when I woke up at 5:00 am -- two hours before intended -- crafting opening sentences in my mind because I couldn’t wait to get started.   A big, white blank screen loomed in my imagination, seducing me from my slumber and calling me to come play.

Now I sit here aware that it’s not unusual for me to put the outcome before the experience when it comes to writing.  I need to have the theme developed and the inspiring closing in mind, and understand how this writing is going to be of service to others all figured out all before I even touch the keyboard.
 
To not know where this article is going feels a lot like hopping on an airplane not knowing its destination.  What to pack for the journey?  What will the weather be like?  Do I want sexy shoes or my climbing harness?  Which parts of my self will be expressed? 

Is this a tendency to control outcomes or a natural part of the craft of writing? I suspect it would make me a terrible novelist. I’d have to decide what the ending is before bringing the characters to life. 
This is completely opposite of what I treasure about life – the capacity to be here now and to experience life fully in this single moment - because despite all of my plans and intentions, I don’t know where life will take me.  I find tremendous richness is the spontaneity of life where I am treated to unexpected sensations, aromas, feelings, sights and experiences.  There is a time for planning and delivering on that plan, but there’s also something cherished about living the unplanned life.  Someone wrote that the worst fate that could befall a person would be to arrive at the end of their life and realize they had never experienced living. 

So as I write I wonder about what it is to be in this process of writing rather than thinking abstractly about what the words are building. Rather than wonder about where the words are going I begin to wonder - where are the words coming from?

On one level it’s simple – they come from my intention to sit here and write, to open my stream of consciousness, to let language flow from my fingers. The energy of this isn’t quite like anything else for me - the words move through me at different levels.  I hear the words in my inner voice, they flow as electrical impulses through my efferent nervous system, down to my fingertips, where my fingers stroke the smooth surface of my key board.  Then my eyes see the words on the monitor, and my attention again moves back in to myself to hear what the next words may be.  It’s a fluid wave of electricity.

  Beneath that wave is me – that voice that is coming through – what I’m curious about now is all of the myriad voices that could be present, all of the dimensions of my own self, the passion, the peace, the energies in my body.  From where in my experience of self am I writing?
Initially it was my good student writing - up early to do my homework assignment… but now I feel like it’s more the voice of my inner life coach - that part of me that is just holding space and very curious about what is present in that space.  What is the texture, the taste?  The viscosity?  I pause to consider the beauty in this space of writing, and my inner voice grows gentle and I smile.