Life coaching for women

feminists don't have a sense of humour ;)

thinking inside the box

I'm a reasonable cook (though out classed by 'im indoors), but like to plan meals in advance. If I have to come up with an idea at the last minute my brain seizes up completely. I've often considered making a list of all the meals we regulaly have. Then when I'm stuck I can refer to it and take the stress out of last minute planning. I've never actually done that and probably never will, but the principle is a good one and as I'm typing it's evolving into a grand plan for writing stimuli! (See how brilliant the writing process is for working through ideas.) This morning I had a suden insight, realising that when I sit down to write, having done no preparatory thinking, I am similarly blocked!

So, here's the next stage of the Great Big Writing BLOCK Removal Plan: I'm going to make an ideas box. Into it I shall place photographs and words, anything that can trigger ideas writing. And I shan't leave it to chance - I shall actively look for the contents. In fact, I've started already.

However, I mustn't get so enthused by the planning that I forget to do the writing!

but, and this is the biggie...

...will all my efforts break down the BLOCK?

I am putting in place lots of practical aids to writing, and for that I am delighted with my day's work as a self-coach. I know, from years of working with women at all sorts of crossroads in their lives, that a mental shift has to take place. That shift is undoubtedly supported and may even be triggered by providing the perfect context for change.

Let's see, and over the next few days discover what other resources I may need to draw on, and what may pop up in an attempt to sabotage my efforts. (I'm ready to do battle though, and am feeling very positive.)

And today has clearly illustrated for me How Intention Adds Fuel To The Writing Fire. Thank you once more, Joanna.

the write place for me

Where I write, and with what, isn't always an issue. But if I'm to form a habit, a regular pattern of writing no matter what then I should be kind to myself and make plans for the venue to be just right, the tools pleasing.

My chap and I share an office, which is fine most for the time. He's a musician and is often practicing, teaching or rehearsing and so I have the place to myself. Even so, it has an air of busyness and is where I do my web design work and other computer-based stuff. Because it's shared I can justifiably be interrupted at any time. Not ideal.

When I'm coaching I'm generally in our upstairs sitting-room. It has two huge windows overlooking the garden and woodland behind. It is a peaceful room, I love it. It's the nearest I've had to a room of my own since childhood. It is the obvious place.

As for implements, the tools for the job, I already have them: a magnificent red leather journal and a foutain pen. In just over a month there will also be a desk in the room. One of those lovely old-fashioned ones with a glass-doored book case at the top and cupboards underneath, a drop-down work surface revealing lots of little drawers and cubby holes. It's being brought from my late, much-loved parents-in-law's home. I have always loved it and am delighted that my husband does too and that his sisters are happy for it to come to us.

Bring those elements together, add in a cup of Earl Grey and I think I may just be able to seduce la muse!

the write time

OK, now that I know how I want it to be, WHEN will I do my writing. Sometimes it is a sudden impulse, a flash of an idea at any time of day or night and I grab the nearest bit of paper and start scrawling. But if I'm to make a habit, then when? What time of day.

Morning's are busy; I'm eager to check and respond to email and, if I'm not coaching first thing, to get on with my latest website project. Afternoon's are gentler, but often there are coaching clients, esepcially straight after lunch. Evening clients tend to start at about 6. That leads me to conclude that late afternoon would be a great time to settle down to some writing. Let's say 4 o'clock, or thereabouts.

Great, that feels exciting (and doable). I'll work on the finer detail shortly, but now, if I'm looking at 'time', how long should the sessions be? My instinct says, 'keep it short' so I'm going to commit to 15 minutes a day, Monday to Thurs to start with. And I'll think about weekends in a bit.

a habit, not a hair shirt

These days we all know about the 's' word. 'Should'. As soon as we hear ourselves say it, we grin, half-apologetically, shrug maybe. We know that 'want to' 'need to' 'long to' are more PC in this self-developing world. Certainly if 'should' is accompanied by a sense of dread, or anxiety or blockage, it pretty clear indicates a sub-text of 'I reallly DON'T want to'.

I don't want writing to be a 'should' in that sense. Some kind of penance, an obligation. I want it to be a happy habit, a joyous high point of every day. Keenly anticipated.

Now, how can I make it thus?

How do I want it to be?

I guess that’s a good place to start. To try to pin down precisely how I would like to live the part of my life labelled 'writing'.

Well, I’d like the words to flow; like they did two nights ago when I scribbled down the post about questioning. It took one sentence in a book to set me off, and do you know what, I can’t remember for the life of me which of the five books I have beside my bed lit that particular blue touch paper. Or maybe it was Saturday's Guardian. Who knows, it doesn't matter a jot. I just want the words to flow. I want to go with the flow.

Maybe it is possible; maybe it is easy

I’ve been blogging about writing  a fair bit recently. And then, most recently, about the BLOCK. The GREAT BIG BLOCK. Then, this morning, I was taking to a client who is already a coach, though she doesn’t call herself that (S, this is you!), about how she can coach herself. As I was saying this I thought ‘For goodness sake, Jan, listen to yourself.’. So I have. And I’ve also listened to Joanna Young who, in her Confident Writing blog  currently has us exploring what is possible. I’ve decided to pinch her theme in order to work out how writing can be not just possible but also easy for me. There will be a plan by the end of today.

Me, Jan, self-coaching, live, here on my blog. Eek!

Right, write. Wrong!

a sorry tale of writer’s block in someone who doesn’t even call herself a writer

I’m a multi-tasking, multiple strands kind of a gal, so I have several blogs. Which is great because when la muse turns up I don’t have to say, ‘I can’t write about that, it’s not relevant’ because it is always relevant to something.

I've been writing from life for my own growth and development since 1995, and advocating writing as a direct route to personal change since 2003. I use this wonderful medium as a means of engaging with the world, of exploring, expressing and communicating my ethos. This means that if you're looking for someone to work alongside you as you push the boundaries and transform your life, you can get a real sense of who I am before you decide even to speak with me. What you read is what you get.

Just recently I’ve been having a problem stringing words together – written words, that is. I’ve no idea why. Perhaps it’s because I’ve been especially busy with website design and of course with coaching. Whatever the reason, I’m getting very frustrated.

I know, I KNOW that when I read stuff I write stuff. Or should I say, when I read certain stuff, I write. Texts that have historically got me going are the likes of Natalie Goldberg's Writing Down the Bones, or the exceptional Healing without Freud or Prozac by Dr David Servan-Schreiber (not remotely hippy-dippy, based on legit scientific research and STUNNING!, read it immediately if you haven't already). A few words, a concept, trigger a thought process and bob’s your uncle, I start scribbling away. Or, rather, I used to!

Recently, even though I’ve been reading for England and thinking all the while, ‘brace yourself, Jan, beams of shining clarity are coming your way’ all I’m getting are rolling waves of fog.

A plan is undoubtedly needed, but one simply won’t come. Here’s what I’ve tried

• Angsting a little each day about how I really ought to write something. (Not helpful at all. Don’t try it.)
• Starting something and then realising that the point I was trying to make was completely spurious. (At least I was starting something...)
• For a while I decided to take my eye off the ball. Allow the processes to happen, trust that my writing mojo was just having some time out and would return. (Nada.)

And like I said, I read therefore I write, SO:

• I’m increasingly interested in memoir writing, partly for myself, my children and grandson, but also as a tool for working with coaching clients. I’ve always loved autobiographies. You’d think I might have noticed that these are, in fact memoirs! Fortunately that particular light bulb clicked on very recently and I now have permission to voraciously read about other people’s lives. Currently it’s Dawn French’s wonderful letters, and I have Julie Walters queuing up. (Zilch output from Ms Scott though, eh?)
• I’m also pursuing a personal interest in the increase in gender stereotyping of toys which is leading me back into the world of academic writing (or rather, reading it) and that’s something I’m pleased about. (Top marks for effort here. Bugger all writing though!)
• Then again, I’m fascinated by the art of writing and though it is a relatively late time to be coming to this I am starting to read about it and about its use in therapeutic ways. (Healer, heal thy-bloomin’-self, say I.)

So, plenty of stimulus to write, you’d think! Harrummpphhh!

I LOVE to write. I find I can express my thoughts well. I have a good system. Mostly I write a draft and then return to it once or twice before letting out into the world as a blog posting or an article. I like the 'return to it' phase best. So, if I'm not getting the draft written in the first place I soon run out of things to return TO.

You’re probably thinking, ‘but you’ve written this, Jan, what are you worrying about.’ Let me tell you that this is a drawing together of three or four separate drafts, which I’ve been pushing around my plate for over a month. And that’s it now, I’ve run out of drafts!

How Does Writing Help to Make Things Possible?

Writing consistently clears out the debris and allows our truth to flow.

In response to a question posed by @joannayoung http://confidentwriting.com/2009/08/how-does-writing-help-to-make-things-possible/

and it's true!