Let’s open up another can of vulnerability.

Here’s what happens.

I write blogs and I don’t really hold back.

I share almost everything that’s on my mind, even if it’s a bit dubious or weird.

A lot of people love it.

They appreciate it.

They even praise me for it.

And then, in honor of my sincerity and courage (and theirs), they hire me to coach them, and pay me a shitload of money.

Haha!

No they don’t.

Because no matter how hard and how wholeheartedly people say they want a real, human, messy coach: that’s not ultimately true, most of the time.

And I get that.

People, in general, want The Dream, they want improvement and security and shiny stuff, so they will mostly hire a coach who talks about getting them exactly that.

They want a mix of Tony Robbins, Byron Katie, Elon Musk, and Eckhart Tolle, elegantly covered in slick Instagram wrapping paper.

And, sure, they don’t mind a bit of honesty, as long as it’s curated and safe, stuff like ‘I cry when I watch a sad movie’, or ‘I have been depressed too, for a week, five years ago’, or ‘Sometimes I feel insecure’.

They want to be easily convinced, they want their expectations to be met upfront, and there’s nothing more appealing than perception, image, and presentation.

It’s all fine when a person is real and raw and open and fucked up, but as a coach?

Nah.

And you know what?

I don’t even blame them.

Of course people want the dream, hell, I often want the fucking dream!

I totally get it that they long to be the Best You Ever, or The You That You Deserve To Be, or the You That Makes A Difference In The World.

I get it that they want a life that’s at least ten times better, covered in thick swirls of comfort and luxury and public appreciation.

And I get it that shiny promises of a constantly improving future taste way more palatable than the endless amount of abstract stuff I usually talk about.

As a matter of fact: I admire and celebrate my clients for following their intuition and hiring me as their coach.

It’s quite brave, and somewhat rebellious.

Without getting all the obvious promises and the usual goal-setting stuff, they recognize something that seems more valuable and sustainable to them, they somehow realize that they might not even know what it is they really want, but trust me to help them find it anyway.

That’s pretty awesome.

Sometimes I doubt this less-established approach of mine.

Sometimes I reflect on adopting a more mainstream coaching presentation, and I think about what it would be like to take that shinier, more obvious route, with the big white smile, wearing a handsome suit that’s covered with Mandela quotes, while driving my purple Lamborghini.

And it’s tempting.

That dream.

So damn sexy.

And why the hell not!

But then I lose interest, I always do, because, well, I don’t fucking know.

Because.

And after that, I realize how chronically okay I am, how simple and fulfilling and rich life has become, and how much sweet light has found its way into my heart.

That’s what I coach.

In that order.

First and foremost, the flow.

The rest is up for grabs.

It’s incredibly, incre-di-bly satisfying to discover that you don’t really NEED to chase The Dream (which can still be optional).

But it’s almost impossible to sell.

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(Photo by @limpido, for Unsplash)