When I learned stuff about coaching, I often heard the pros say ‘The only thing you have to do is show up’.

That sounded amazing.

And simple.

And very doable.

Within the safety and the energy of the amazing mentoring sessions where this advice was given, where I felt pretty good already, this was such a cool way to look at it.

Just imagine: no responsibility, no hassle, no fear, just showing up!

It turned out to be true.

Showing up is actually all you have to do, always.

Whatever happens after that, is whatever happens.

It’s all life’s creativity and spontaneity in the moment.

So if it’s true, why bring this up?

Well, it might have been true, but for a long time it was no reality for me.

And that is because even the best piece of advice needs solid ground to land on.

Or fertile soil where it can grow, and flourish.

A chunk of rich, obvious wisdom can absolutely touch you in the moment, but seem incredibly far away when you’re two weeks down the line

This is the trickiness and flimsiness of advice.

Because for years after the initial hearing of ‘The only thing you have to do is show up’, I was still all over the place with my coaching, and I DID show up, but mostly filled with nerves and agony.

And that was not a showing up I liked very much.

Sure, I could feel amazing and clear and peaceful ten minutes before a coaching session, but the moment I saw my client, doubts started to pour in like there was no tomorrow.

As a matter of fact: in most cases, this harsh uncertainty about the ‘just showing up!’-thing started way before the sessions.

And if it didn’t, it would happen during the chat.

The thing that felt so good and simple and cool when I first heard it, was absolutely no match for a lifetime of crippling, unnerving, negative thinking, at least for a long time.

Advice, even the best of the best, has no power in itself.

It has to somehow connect with the person that’s exposed to it.

The timing has to be absolutely perfect.

And even then, it will have to grow and solidify and prove itself most of the time.

You can throw fifteen Instagram accounts worth of spiritual or mindset quotes at somebody, but the fact that they make sense in the moment doesn’t mean that much.

When I tried to ‘just show up’, my mind had a ball.

It attacked me with obvious pleasure and smothered me with questions.

What does it mean to just show up?

How about just being a coach, helping people out, telling amazing stories, and be fucking impressive?

What do you do when somebody gets angry with you?

What happens when you have nothing to say or share?

What if your showing up is not as powerful as you’d like it to be?

An endless amount of questions and doubts and judgments like that filled me up and fucked me up.

I’ve come across endless pieces of advice in my life, some of them very deep and valuable, but most of them more akin to wishful thinking or just plain stupid.

Some of them turned out to be helpful, most not so.

The only thing that has assisted me and inspired me in every situation thinkable, is awareness, or being present and connected to that which is not temporary.

That abstract but undeniable thing I talk about all the time.

Yes, I had to learn that too, recognize that too, feel that too, but it has turned out to be the most precious and powerful thing in my life.

You know why?

Even when you forget every piece of advice possible, presence is still there.

Powerful.

Simple.

Reliable.

Rich in fresh opportunities.

And you know what?

One of the things that being present and, moreover, being aware of that presence has shown and taught me, is what it means to ‘just show up’.

It’s the same.

Ha, really!

But don’t take my word for it.

—

(Photo by @ilhamrahmansyah, for Unsplash)