by Heather Plett | Aug 28, 2013 | Uncategorized
I’m doing something rather unusual today… I’m asking for help.
I have a couple of amazing opportunities coming up in the next two months, but I could use your help to get there. Here’s where I hope to go:
- Gather the Women Global Matrix annual gathering in Lake Tahoe, California (September 22-25). Last year I co-hosted this beautiful circle of women in Peterborough, Ontario and became a committed member of the global community. Their goal is simple and clear – spread women’s circles around the world. While I was there last year, I found out that my mom’s cancer was back and there was no longer anything the doctors could do. At the end of the gathering I said to the women “by the time we meet again, I may not have a living mom.” That beautiful circle women wrapped their arms around me and have been supporting me ever since. THIS is the power of circles.
- Patti Digh’s Design Your Life Camp (October 3-6). When I first heard about what Patti Digh was putting together, I was captivated. “Wow,” I thought. “Just the kind of people I’d like to go to camp with.” On a whim, on the very last day that they were accepting submissions, I sent in a proposal to offer one of the Spark Sessions on “The courage to lead differently”. I didn’t think much more about it… until the lineup was announced and mine had been selected!
These both feel like incredible opportunities to a.) be supported by people doing similar work in the world, and b.) expand the reach of my own work.
The problem is… I don’t have the financial resources to pay for all of the travel involved. (Back to school season is expensive when you have three daughters.) My registration is covered at both events, and the accommodations are already paid for the first event, but I need to pay for the plane tickets, accommodations at the second event, and (possibly) accommodations in between.
I have been wracking my brain trying to think of ways to come up with the money. In the end, this thought kept coming back to me… “Why don’t you ask your readers to support you?”
Gulp. For someone who’s been raised with a healthy dose of self-sufficiency and has a lot of trouble swallowing her pride to ask for help, that question took a lot to digest. And yet, it kept coming back to me.
What I realized is this… Those of you who show up faithfully at this page, those who leave comments and send beautiful emails to let me know what my words mean to you – all of you WANT to see this work spread further into the world, or you wouldn’t show up as open-heartedly and generously as you do.
And then this thought kept coming to me… “If I want to live in a gift economy, I need to give people more opportunities to offer gifts to me so that I can spread my own gifts further.” Since many of you have already received some version of gift from me (in the form of blog posts, coaching sessions, free ebooks, etc.) I want to now offer you an opportunity to live in the gift economy with me.
There are three ways that you can help support my trip to Lake Tahoe and Atlanta:
- Purchase something that I sell – namely a coaching session, registration in Lead with Your Wild Heart, registration in Creative Writing for Self-Discovery (local to Winnipeg), or registration in the yet-to-be-announced Mandala Discovery: 30 Days of Mandala Journaling.
- Help me find a way and place to generate some income in the week between Lake Tahoe and Atlanta – somewhere in transit between those two places. Perhaps a workshop could be offered for an organization or community group, in-person coaching sessions could be made available for staff or community members, or consulting work could be done? I’m open to creative suggestions.
- Offer a financial gift, free of any attachments, with the understanding that your gift will help me to spread my gifts into the world, and the gift economy will spread. Here’s a handy donate button if you want to give by Paypal, or email to offer other possibilities.
From the bottom of my heart, I thank you for being part of my community. Whether or not you are able to support this dream of mine, please know that you are valued and appreciated and I wouldn’t be here doing this work if it wasn’t for you.
Note: I need between $1500 and $2000, depending on flight costs and whether or not I need to pay for accommodations in between events. If, perchance, I should receive more than that in gifts, you can be sure that the additional funds would be put to good use in growing my work. For example, I am beginning to feel a real need for a space (office/studio/classroom) where I can do coaching sessions and offer workshops.
by Heather Plett | Aug 21, 2013 | Community, Spirituality, Uncategorized
I am spiritual. That’s no surprise to you if you’ve been reading this blog for any period of time.
But it might be a surprise to you that I haven’t always been comfortable being “out” about my spirituality.
For starters, I was raised in a fairly conservative evangelical Mennonite family where faith was fairly black and white and you didn’t walk labyrinths, make prayer flags, take Buddhist meditation classes, pray to the Divine Feminine, embrace other faith perspectives, or talk about the way God speaks through a deer or a tree.
When I started exploring those things, I was afraid of rejection, and so I kept most of my exploration secret. There was a little too much fear of going to hell if you “worshipped false gods” in those circles, and that fear lingered deep in my own psyche long after I thought I’d dealt with it. I still don’t talk about it very much in some circles, and to be honest, I’m still excavating some of my rejection and fear stories around that. (I still consider myself a Christ-follower, by the way, but my understanding of what that means has shifted dramatically.)
For another thing, I spent a lot of years in the corporate world where any talk of spirituality was strictly taboo. Though I sometimes thought that my staff or the management teams I was on might be better off if we brought mindfulness and more spiritual openness into what we did, I wasn’t confident enough in my own exploration yet to introduce it. Again, it was mostly fear of rejection that kept me silent.
When I quit my job and started my own business, I started out as a split personality, still trying to keep my spirituality mostly in the closet. I had two websites – one was the polished, corporate-looking one I showed potential clients and students in my university classes, and the other was the blog where I explored the things that mattered most to me, including spirituality. Every time someone from the corporate/university world found the blog, I cringed a little, worried that they would no longer take me seriously as a consultant or teacher. There is, after all, an assumption in our culture that being spiritual means that you’re less intellectual and probably a little weaker than others.
About a year and a half ago, I started to realize that maintaining these two public faces was creating angst for me and making me feel disingenuous. After a couple of failed consulting gigs, I realized that I really didn’t want to work with clients who wouldn’t be comfortable with my spirituality. After trying to be something in the classroom I really wasn’t, I realized that my best teaching happened when I was authentically me.
And so I came out. I combined my blog with my website, integrated my spirituality into my consulting/facilitation/teaching work, and got used to stepping into a classroom where students and administration might think me a little “flakey or too woo-woo”.
I can’t tell you that it magically brought me all of the “right” kinds of clients (it’s still a gradual process), but I can tell you that things started to shift. In the very first class I taught after deciding to be more open and sharing my blog with students, I had four students approach me individually, interested in coming to me for coaching because they were looking for something deeper than they could receive in a classroom. And I started to get invitations to do amazing work that fits me perfectly, like the week long artists’ retreat I facilitated last week in Saskatchewan.
Yes, my work has shifted, and I’m sure a few corporate clients have been turned away by language that feels uncomfortable for them, but that’s okay.
More and more, my work is a true expression of who I am, not just the skills I can offer. More and more, I am bringing the full basket of my gifts and wisdom into what I offer.
And the right people are showing up. Almost all of my coaching clients, for example, share stories of how they too are trying to live more authentically and more boldly in a world that expects them to be more “corporate, straight, conventional, unemotional, etc.” They show up with their own fear of rejection stories and I can truly say “I see you.” And in the last six months, I’ve had the opportunity to host half a dozen retreat/workshops that are all about connecting on a deeper, more spiritual way. Again, I am more prepared to host them because I have been on my own journey to this deeper, more authentic place.
Another interesting thing has happened. Some of the people whose rejection I feared are coming forward and saying “Your work resonates with me. I’m curious about labyrinths/mandalas/etc. Can you tell me more?” My own “coming out” is encouraging others to be more honest about their own questions and exploration.
What about you? Do you sometimes feel like a fraud because you’re hiding the titles of the books you read from your colleagues at work? Do you take meditation classes in secret because you don’t want your family to know? Do you furtively read blog posts that make your heart sing, but you’re quite sure nobody in your world would understand? Do you feel like one of my clients, who said she is “kind of a weirdo, but in a good way”? Have you despaired of finding a circle of people like you who have questions that most people think are too “out there”?
You will need to find your own path through this, but you don’t have to do it alone. There are more of us spiritual seekers out here in this big world than you might imagine. Trust me – when I started being more open about my quest, I started connecting with a lot of amazing people who, like me, want to dive into meaningful conversations that go far beyond small talk, straight to the heart.
Here are a few thoughts on how you can begin to move into a more integrated, authentic life:
- Start small. Find at least one person who feels like a safe space to talk about your quest. This might be someone you already know and trust, someone at a yoga class, or a coach like me. Before you start the conversation, though, be sure that the person you’re talking to can respond in a non-judgemental way. If you face judgement in your very first conversation, your authentic you will run further into hiding.
- Find a place where you can be true to yourself. This might be your journal, a secret place in the woods, your favourite coffee shop or bookstore, or your art studio. In that space, commit to being totally honest with yourself about who you are and what you seek in the world. Read the books you want to read, write the truth that longs to be said, and dare to stand in awe of an eagle that seems to have a message just for you.
- Find a practice that connects you with your spiritual Self. There are many options – yoga, dance, meditation, walking, running, painting, mandala-making, etc. Do something that brings you peace and leaves you feeling connected to that authentic part of you that’s been buried under other people’s expectations.
- Practice truthfulness one tiny step at a time. If you are feeling inauthentic at work, find a least one co-worker whom you trust who won’t laugh at you when you admit to going on a meditation retreat. If that feels safe, take another step. You may be surprised to find other secret questers longing for the same conversation.
- Consider your priorities. If your steps to being more authentic at work feel unsafe or leave you feeling judged, consider how important it is to stay there. Is it time to walk away? Are you living a lie if you stay there?
- Recognize that some people will never “get it” and that’s okay. Some people might suggest that you should walk away from anyone who rejects your version of a spiritual quest, but life is far more complex than that. If a family member, for example, doesn’t understand it, then find other topics to talk about in their presence. You don’t need to lie to them, but you also don’t need to reveal your deepest heart to everyone in your life.
- Find community where you feel safe. With the internet making long distance relationships more and more accessible, it has become easier and easier to find circles where you can talk about your questions and spiritual quest. I wouldn’t say that virtual circles replace in-person relationships, but it’s at least a place to start. For example, many of the people who sign up for Lead with Your Wild Heart say that one of the best things about the program is the fact that they no longer feel alone in their quest for authenticity.
- Read a book or two that helps you understand your own quest. A few recommendations: Falling Upward: A Spirituality for the Two Halves of Life, A Hidden Wholeness: The Journey Toward an Undivided Life, The Seeker’s Guide: Making your Life a Spiritual Adventure, and What We Talk About When We Talk About God.
In all that you do, remember this – this journey is a long one. You don’t get to authentic overnight. It took me many years to realize some of the places I was living a divided life, and I know that there are still more realizations to come.
Take the journey one step at a time, and find companions along the way.
by Heather Plett | Aug 1, 2013 | Uncategorized
What do a human rights lawyer in Zimbabwe, a psychologist who’s a wealth management specialist in Los Angeles, a former pastor training to be an art therapist in rural Manitoba, and a manager in an international tech company in Chicago have in common?
They’ve all gained something from my coaching.
What else do they have in common? They have a longing to make a difference in the world and to lead from a place of greater authenticity, deeper spirituality and more courage.
All three of these people (and all of my other clients) already had a great deal of wisdom long before they came into contact with me. They are lifelong learners, committed to doing good work in the world. They are strong, compassionate, and they have a lot of vision for how to make the world a better place. So… if they already had all these things, what did they need from me? They needed someone to ask the right questions and create the right environment to help them find their deeper truths, their authentic longings, and the next steps in their journeys. They needed clarity and support, and they needed someone who would challenge them to be the best versions of themselves.
That’s what I do for my clients – ask the right questions, create a safe environment, encourage them, and then nudge them into the places their hearts are already longing to take them.
My coaching work is not about creating something out of nothing – it’s about excavating the stories you already carry, the wisdom you might have buried under your own self-doubts, and the longing that has been waiting for you to give it space. It’s also about moving the blocks out of the way and challenging the stories that keep you small.
The deepening journey…
In Falling Upward, Richard Rohr talks about the deepening journey of the second half of life, when we leave the comforts of dualistic thinking (our black and white, rules-based world) and self-absorption, and move further into ambiguity, trust, and concern for the common good. This is a journey to our True Self, and it does not come without a struggle.
My coaching is about that journey to the True Self. I won’t take the struggle away, or make it easier to get to your True Self (because there is much to learn in the struggle and taking it away would not do you any favours), I’ll simply help you be more present, have more clarity, and take a more confident step onto the path.
In that journey to our True Self, you’ll begin to find yourself emerging into one of the leaders the world is longing for. I’ll help you understand what it means for you to be a leader.
“A leader is anyone willing to help, anyone who sees something that needs to change and takes the first steps to influence that situation.” – Margaret Wheatley
When I say that I coach leaders, it means that I coach anyone willing to help. Whether you lead from a place at the boardroom table, the kitchen table, or the garden bench, the world needs your willingness to help. You simply need to show up and hold your place in the circle.
If you are willing to help, but you’re afraid to call yourself a leader, I’d be happy to work with you.
Back to school…
September is back to school time, when we put away the flip-flops, clean out the backpacks, sharpen the pencils, and get ready for another year of learning, growth, and challenge. It’s a good time of year to commit to the new things that want to emerge in our lives. It’s a good time to consider what our next journey will look like.
September is also the time of harvest, when we gather the good things from our gardens, enjoy the feasts of Thanksgiving, and freeze and preserve what we’ll need for the long winter months.
Even if you’re not going back to school, September is a good month to invest in your own growth and learning, gather the fruits of your personal harvest, and contemplate the next steps in your journey. It’s a good time to invest in coaching for your own growth.
Invest in yourself…
This September, consider investing in yourself by working with me as your coach. To make that a little easier, I’m having a “back to school” sale.
Book a one-time coaching session for only $75. That’s 25% off the regular price.
Even better (because deep work takes time)… Book three sessions for $195. We’ll get really juicy in three sessions and I guarantee you’ll have a few a-ha moments in that time.
OR… sign up for the Fall session of Lead with Your Wild Heart, and take the journey in community with other learners. You’ll get the extra benefit of sharing in the stories of others who are also deepening in their leadership and self-discovery.
Back to School Sale ends August 23, 2013.
Note: I incorporate elements of a gift economy into my business model, and so I’ve created something called Karma Coaching. If you are doing important work in the world and believe that you would benefit from my coaching, I don’t want to let limited financial resources get in the way. Find out how you can benefit from the gift of my coaching, or participate in the gift economy by supporting other world-changers who want coaching.
by Heather Plett | Jul 30, 2013 | Uncategorized
Mom and Brad and a pony named Brownie or Paco (depending on which Grandchild you asked)
I’m in an odd place these days, not one where words flow in gentle streams from my head to the page. More disjointed than that – lots of thoughts, lots of sadness, lots of moments of wonder and realization, but nothing that works its way into a cohesive blog post. So, instead, I’ll give you a little of the bric-a-brac in my brain…
– My biggest and most consuming thought is “How can my big brother REALLY have cancer just seven months after it killed Mom? Is this just a bad dream? Will I wake up soon?”
– My next most-consuming thought is “I love my brother. He’s been such a constant in my life. Sure, he teased me mercilessly when we were growing up – it’s what big brothers do – but I don’t remember ever doubting that he loved me. And since then, in the adult years, there have been SO many times when, with characteristic understatement, he just showed up and did the right thing. Like the time he deposited money in my bank account when my sister and I were running low on our big European backpacking adventure. And the way he sat between my sister and I when we were weeping over Mom’s death, and simply put his hand on each of our knees, and then went to get us blankets.”
– And then, the next thought is “I need to be there. I need to see him.” And so I am making an unexpected road trip to Alberta this weekend. Just to show up. Because I need to.
– The trip to Alberta will end in Saskatchewan. One of the most delightful pieces of work that I’ve been offered this summer (and really – a dream come true) is the opportunity to facilitate the annual retreat of an artists’ guild. I’ll facilitate a few sessions, do some one-on-one coaching work with them, and then I get to just hang out and make art. Imagine!
– And… speaking of delightful work, I’ve been selected to deliver a Spark session at Patti Digh’s Design Your Life Camp! Woohoo! I’m very excited about the opportunity to talk about one of the things that matters most to me – The Courage to Lead Differently. At this point, with not a lot of work on the horizon, I haven’t quite figured out how I’ll be able to afford the trip, but I’m working on that. And praying, and dreaming.
– This made me weep. And then weep some more. Scott Simon, from NPR, tweeted throughout his Mom’s dying days. So very close to my own experience last November.
– In all of this sadness and worry over my brother, this much I know… I am loved. I am surrounded by a flawed but beautiful, deeply authentic, courageously loving, sometimes infuriating but always forgiving, family of origin. How did I get to be so lucky?
– Oh… I almost forgot to tell you… Last week’s one-day workshop on the Art of Hosting and Harvesting Conversations that Matter was pure delight. A beautiful hosting team to work with, a beautiful circle of people to be in conversation with, and the beautiful hope that this will grow in Manitoba. Stay tuned for a longer version in October. And I am reminded once again, that conversations matter.
– And… speaking of circles of people… the other trip I hope to make this Fall is to Gather the Women – Annual Gathering. Last year, I co-hosted the gathering in Ontario, and it was there that I learned about my Mom’s cancer returning. This circle of women has extended to me a big virtual hug in the year since then, and I hope that the resources will come together so that I can be with them again.
by Heather Plett | Jul 17, 2013 | Uncategorized
Sometimes the knot in your stomach that’s been hovering at the edges of your life for too long starts growing and you feel like it will strangle you from the inside.
Sometimes the self-pity cassette is on repeat in your mind and you can’t get past the part about how hard this year has been and how it doesn’t seem fair that so many people’s lives seem easier.
Sometimes the fact that you broke your foot feels like a metaphor for how your life is stuck in one place and you can’t seem to move forward.
Sometimes, while you’re stuck in that place, it also feels like the world is spinning too fast and too many of the people you love are falling off the edges.
Sometimes, in the middle of all that, you get the news that your big brother has cancer and, though it’s the kind that is usually halted with early detection, “this is not early detection.”
Sometimes that news knocks you over and you feel vulnerable and scared, because it comes just six months after cancer stole your mom and two months after it threatened to take your mother-in-law and a couple of years after it threatened to take your sister-in-law (twice) and you feel like cancer is eating away at your world.
Sometimes you realize only when their mortality stares you in the face how much a family member means to you, and you have to admit that you’re kind of terrified of losing them.
Sometimes you scream “God, why is all this shit happening, and why does my family have to go through so much, and why can’t you give us EASY for awhile? Are you even paying attention, or did you go off and take a nap somewhere while we suffer?”
And then sometimes you’re sitting outside under the shade of a giant tree, listening to singer-songwriters tell the stories that articulate your own ache, and you feel momentary contentment sweep over you like the breeze on your face. In that moment, you look up, and spot two bald eagles flying overhead and you watch in wonder until they disappear behind the trees.
And sometimes it just so happens that your sister is walking by at that moment, and you stop her and say “did you see the bald eagles?” and both of you remember that it was a bald eagle that was perched on a tree just before your mom died, and your sister spotted another one the day you buried her, and ever since, bald eagles have been connected with your mom. And you also remember what your aboriginal student said about bald eagles being God’s messengers, carrying your prayers to heaven.
And then sometimes – in one of those synchronistic moments for which there is no explanation – Jordie Lane is singing on the stage “Like a bird you swooped down, you edged closer, then off you flew… I could die looking at you” just as the eagles come back into your line of vision, and you and your sister and a few other people in the crowd around you stare in awe.
And sometimes pure magic happens, and those two eagles clasp talons in mid air, and – with their wings spread wide – do a mystical, dangerous, spinning dance, spiralling toward the earth. And the crowd gasps as one and you know that you have all just shared a sacred moment.
And sometimes you marvel that the vary talons that rip apart the flesh of fish and small animals are also the talons that clasp together in this strange and wondrous sky-dance.
And sometimes you whisper “God, you have created a mysterious, achingly beautiful world, and for some reason you showed up in these eagles today. I don’t understand any of this, but I thank you for this moment.”
by Heather Plett | Jul 1, 2013 | Uncategorized
I make mandalas, write in my journal, paint, do a bit of yoga, and sometimes meditate. All of these things ground and centre me, but my primary spiritual practice is walking in the woods.
I feel closer to God when I’m in the woods than anywhere else I can think of. Yes, God shows up anywhere (and one of my most meaningful God-experiences was during a three week hospital confinement when I lost my son Matthew), but I have the easiest time quieting my mind and opening my heart when I surround myself with the stillness and beauty that the woods offer me. Add to that the body engagement of walking, and I feel like I’m Eve in the Garden of Eden, walking with God at my side.
For three weeks now, I feel like I’ve been banished from the Garden. This broken foot means that I can’t walk and I can’t even drive myself to a place where I can sit at the edge of the woods.
It’s been agonizing. I know it sounds like an over-dramatization, and I know that there are people in the world with much bigger problems than mine, but it’s been really, really hard. Harder than I would have imagined. I am just not good at sitting still.
It’s been especially hard because all of this long hard winter, while I watched my Mom die and my husband come near to death with a heart attack, I kept telling myself “at least it will be Spring soon and I will be able to find some healing in the woods. I will sit on my familiar stone bench and pour out my grief to the birch trees. I will stand on the riverbank and the Dancing Goddess Tree will offer her strength. I will follow the deer into the woods and they will whisper ‘everything is going to be alright’.”
When I first heard the doctor say “broken”, my thought was “does God hate me? WHY?! Why does another shitty thing have to happen just when I felt like I was on the road to healing?”
And then for the next three weeks, I wallowed in the misery of my exile. I tried to turn to my other spiritual practices – I made one pathetic mandala, I wrote a page or two in my journal, and I got halfway through a collage – but nothing worked. Everything just served to make me feel more restless than before. God felt a million miles away, and my wild heart felt frantic, like a caged animal.
On Thursday, the doctor finally said I was free of crutches and could walk reasonable distances on my boot. On Sunday I practically begged my husband, “please drive me to the gate at Henteleff Park, drop me off, and I’ll text you when I’m ready to come home.”
The park gate felt like the door to my cage. Not too many steps down the path and I felt like I had finally come back home. Out of Exile. Back to the Garden of Eden. Back to a place where God walked with me.
I limped as far as my favourite stone bench in the middle of the birch trees, and I laid down on my back, staring up at the fluttering leaves. The breeze on my face was God’s kiss. The birds sang God’s love song. “Welcome back to the Garden,” they sang. I started to cry.
I don’t know if there is a “why” for the breaking of the foot. I don’t really believe that “everything happens for a reason and that the universe conspired to break my foot to teach me an important lesson.” I can’t get my head around that kind of fatalism. I do, however, believe that we are meant to work our way through difficult times and then find meaning in the darkness that helps us better understand and appreciate the light. For me, at that moment, lying on my back on a stone bench, feeling like a refugee who’d returned home after a time in exile, I found some profound meaning that was much bigger than a three week period of restlessness.
More than simply a moment in the woods, it suddenly became for me a metaphor for my life. Since that three week period in the hospital more than a dozen years ago, when God showed up in a series of strange and mystical encounters (and during which time I eventually lost my son Matthew), I have been working my way back from exile. In the hospital, after a night of wrestling with God, I woke up to how far away from my authentic Self – my wild heart – I’d become. Like the last three weeks of my life when I couldn’t walk in the woods, I’d been living like a caged tiger, exiled from my home in the wilderness.
There was a void in my life, and I knew it, but instead of trying to break free of the cage by seeking out spiritual practices and meaningful work, I was attempting to fill it with money, a prestigious career, material possessions, food, etc. In the hospital, when all of those things were suddenly unavailable to me, I finally recognized the futility of my search. I suddenly knew that to fill the void, I would need to find the path back to my own wild heart, back to Spirit, and back to a more authentic life. Right then and there, in the hospital waiting for my son to make his appearance, I started that journey and have been on the path (with a few detours now and then) ever since.
A few years ago, when I was beginning to understand the meaning of all that, I read the following quote from Peter Block and knew instantly that he was talking about me.
“Leadership is about rearranging the chairs, getting the questions right, putting citizens in front of each other and then knowing what’s worth focusing on. The leadership I’m longing for is the leadership that says my number one job is to bring people together out of exile, out of isolation, and into connection.” – Peter Block
My experience in the hospital and in the years following, in which I gradually returned from exile by quitting my government job, traveling the world working for the cause of justice in non-profit work, and then quitting that job to teach, write, and host conversations, have been preparing me for the work of bringing people together “out of exile, out of isolation, and into connection.”
Coming out of exile means a returning to that which is authentic in all of us. It’s about living wholeheartedly, in tune with each other and the earth. It’s about being in community and extending love and compassion to each other and to ourselves. It requires of us that we turn away from the destructive, disconnected, disenfranchised lives of independence, competition, and over-consumption. It’s a return to simplicity, a return to our hearts, a return to our bodies, a return to each other, and a return to the wild.
This is the work I do now, and this is what I invite you to in my coaching, writing, teaching, and workshops – a return from exile. I know what it’s like to feel trapped and separated from the one thing that will make you feel whole. I know what it’s like to long for a more authentic way of living. I know what it’s like to feel like you’ve gone so far from home you can never return.
I also know what it’s like to return to the wild and finally feel alive again.
If you’re ready to come back from exile, let me help you. After a busy few months, I am finally accepting new coaching clients. Perhaps you’ll be one of them? Contact me and we can start with an exploratory conversation.
And if you want to be in that circle of chairs that Peter Block talks about, learning more about the kind of leadership that brings people out of exile, join me and my colleagues at a one-day Art of Hosting workshop.
p.s. For the past couple of years, I’ve been working on a memoir about how my time with Matthew changed my life. In recent months, I’ve been stuck, knowing that something was missing. Laying on the bench in the park on Sunday, I think I finally found the thread that will tie the book together.
