Becoming the Unknown

Who am I if I become my own source of direction, motivation and inspiration?

I didn’t know the answer to any of these questions. I am not sure I do today, but they offer me hope.

When I started out, with my own business, I believed I would follow what I had known all my life. People. Customer Service. Sales and Marketing.

And so – with that thought in mind I attempted to move forward. I was at the starting gate of the unknown and thinking it would be the same old… For goodness sake, this had been my life for close to 30 years.

But it felt wrong. It felt awkward and unsatisfying.

Life felt awkward.

I was in need of more. Something deeper and richer.

I was so lost.

The Universe and a good friend encouraged me to take a spot in a Life Mastery Coaching Course. Although the idea resonated a bit with me, I was conflicted. Being in a place where I felt like nothing really mattered, I decided to try it. As I have told my kids, every time they struggled with something, “what’s the worst thing that can happen?” I listened to my own advice and the answer was quite clear. Nothing bad could come of this.

This was where I belonged, for the moment.

As I dove in, the teachings tore a hole in my heart and forced me to look in the dark recesses of my soul. My Inner Being was screaming with joy and fear. But for the first time in so long, I felt something.

For many months I studied, I went to places that were uncharted territory for me. all the while wondering what the hell I was doing.

This wasn’t what I had planned.

But losing Rick wasn’t what I had planned either.

My life being whole and complete and then blowing up was nothing I could have expected.

I went with it, threw myself into it, thinking of him all the while, uncertainty, fear and all.

I graduated from the intensive course with many gifts. Love for myself in the state of grief, a new and very deep and treasured friendship, and tools. Loving, guiding tools to help navigate challenges for myself and others moving forward.

Living in the NOW had been the unexpected outcome that Death and Grief had so generously provided me with, many months before, and NOW I had more to support me in the process. I embraced it all for NOW. In a strange way, there was a sense of relief by accepting this unplanned path.

Graduation came. Me. A certified Life Mastery Coach. I had the documentation to prove it. I did it. I dug deeper than I could have imagined, during a time that beckoned me to go down a Rabbit Hole of depression. But I didn’t. I studied and got through.

The business was now foggier than when I started and yet somehow, I felt stronger.

There was something that had been ignited in me, but I wasn’t completely sure what that meant. I was still confused, but true gift in all of this was that I didn’t care and it was alright!

Because the worst had already happened to me, I felt grounded in my new space.

Then the phone rang.

There were large and small companies needed sales, they needed marketing, but more so, they needed support in an emotional way. To navigate the difficulties of being a solopreneur or managing a business that was old and needed new life. I took all my career skills and my new awareness in Life Coaching and I kept walking.

Minute by minute, day by day, week by week. I stopped worrying about what I did. I gave up on a label, instead, I just did it.

I stopped thinking about what people thought my business was. I helped people who called me, referred me and I was so happy to do it.
I started, at times, to be my own inspiration and motivation.

Not ever day. But consistently it felt right.

The people I worked with were grateful and that brought me joy.

What I realized the most is that it was really good.

That you must keep listening for the Universe calling to you, “come this way.” Sometimes it’s ever so subtle…but if you are quiet enough, you will hear it. Don’t ever be afraid to walk towards it.

It felt like a new chapter was beginning, despite the fact that Grief was still holding onto me with a grip I couldn’t loosen.
Instead of fighting it, I started to walk alongside it.

There are days still, and often many strung together, when I can’t lift my head off the pillow, so I stay there with gentle compassion for myself. The difference is I let myself be broken.

And it’s alright.

Grief will be my constant companion, I’m learning to make friends with it.