Who can we turn to?
More often than not we look to our friends and family for advice and guidance. But as certified life coach Katie West says, this may not be the smartest strategy.
“A best friend has her own agenda,” says West, 34, who lives in Bath. “A life coach holds to the client’s agenda.”
This piqued our interest (and gave us a new explanation for all the bad hairdos we sported in the ‘80s). Wanting to know more about the touchy-feely sounding world of life coaching, we approached Jenn Barton of Wiscasett. Also 34, Barton is a new mom who wants to gain more balance in her life and pursue a long-held dream of launching a writing career.
“I have a friend who went through life coaching in Portland, and it helped her deeply with a relationship she was having difficulty with,” Barton says. “It’s not therapy. I didn’t want to look at past pain. I wanted to set up my life differently.”
So she contacted West earlier this year and set up a series of life coaching sessions, most of which took place over the phone. She also agreed to give us an inside look at how this whole life coaching thing works by sharing her journal and answering our nosey questions. Here’s her story:
Feb. 8 — Let the coaching begin. When asked what her expectations were at the start of the process, Barton says: “Honestly, I felt like I had nothing to lose.” She goes on to add: “I have a resume that would point me in one direction, but I want to go in a different direction ... I’d had enough of compromise. I’d had enough of trying to please others.” This seems to mesh pretty well with how West describes what she does: “I work with women ages 25-45 to connect them with their passion and launch them into the next phase of their lives. I help women that have been caught up with being the good girl they think they should be become the brilliant women they are.”
Feb. 10 — Journal entry
I don’t want to call Katie. Maybe I can just postpone the call. I’m clearly committed to doing the work, have completed my assignments of defining goals and constructing a picture of a fully free and competent me (and I actually like the collage of me — this heart of red construction paper, cut down the middle, not in a violent way, but like a book being opened). Damn it. This is where I always find myself … shrinking back. You will call her, Jenn. There is no escape this time.
Feb. 20 — Journal entry
Challenged to find compassion today, but found fleeting moments between bouts of impatience. What became clear to me was a real need for self-nourishment, a schedule that enables me to exercise, write, reflect, AND love my daughter. Felt so trapped today, which led to nervous eating, stagnation, and a downward spiral of the mind.
Feb. 24 — Journal entry
Katie asked, “How ready are you for a year of self-exploration.” I responded, “It sounds so self-indulgent.” Can I say yes to this? Am I ready to move toward the transformation that I believe is possible through doing the inner and outer work necessary to sustain it?
Katie has repeatedly reminded me to move toward the things that energize my life and away from the things that don’t. I have so many ideas about what I “should” be doing in order to be a writer, so much stifling self-judgment. For so many years, I have seen choosing careers as choosing a big box of predetermined obligations. What I am learning is that I have the power to choose what fills that box. I don’t have to do it how Terry Tempest Williams does it, or Annie Dillard, or Thoreau. I can’t. I have to let go of these old paradigms that no longer serve me. There is value in learning from others; there is destruction in thinking we can’t do it in our own particular way.
Feb. 29 — Journal entry
The second four weeks of my coaching experience have been centered on identifying the voices that hold me back, my gremlins, as Katie refers to them. She says, “The gremlins can stick around; they just need a change of clothes.” My gremlins are numerous, but the gist of their message to me is this: “You don’t deserve this life of pursuing your passion, and you’ll never make anything of it anyway.” So how do I harness the energy of my gremlins and convert it into a positive force for change? For me, this is the essential work of coaching.
March 11— Journal entry
Every day the earth is born, bursts into brightness, then dies. Every morning I can choose to be born again alongside it, leaving behind the old constructions of myself in order to inhabit something new. Imagine that — this life is available to me in whatever way I can dream it into being. Because what I’m “doing” is secondary. It’s the heart and soul that I bring to the task that matters. And if I do nothing more than change diapers, prepare meals, read a few pages in my book, and scramble around campus hot on my daughter’s trail today, that’s enough. It’s all enough. So long as I feel alive.
Where’s Jenn Barton now?
Barton still has four more sessions with West, however, she’s feeling quite positive about the experience.
“It’s not that I’m a different person, it’s that I’m not afraid to look at the person that I am,” Barton says. “I used to spend a lot of time looking at my deficiencies ... I have so much more energy because I’m not worrying about how my butt looks in the mirror. (Laughs.) It’s really about a choice of where to put your energy and time.”
Coaching, the details
West, who’s practice is called Life Design, says a typical coaching relationship lasts three months. She charges $75 for each 45-minute session and also offers package deals. The initial session is free. Across the country, certified life coaches often charge as much as $500 per hour.
“My job is to look at the initial goals and make sure they’re making progress every week,” West says.