Self-Coaching Tip: Expect the Unexpected

A few years ago, I set an Intention for peace and harmony in my relationship with my ex-husband. Within three days, the energy of the amplified intentions was having an impact on my life—but it didn't look anything like peace and harmony. Almost overnight, the situation with my ex-husband threatened to become litigious. I felt overwhelmed and threatened at a core survival level.

I knew what usually worked to coach myself through this situation, but I was having some difficulty. I became angry with my ex-, blaming him for the situation. For days, I held my anger as a protective shield against the primal fears that were surfacing. The anger interfered with my abilities to function effectively as a parent, a coach, a CEO. Finally, after several days of missing deadlines and appointments, I called a fellow Coach and asked for help. After doing the body movements that help me move out of my fears, I spent some time working through one of my favorite tools that helps me get out of my head enough to partner with the fear I was feeling. Then, my colleague led me through a visualization in which I saw all of my issues with my ex-husband as rocks, stones and pebbles loaded into a backpack. Below is the visualization and how it worked for me:
She directs me to a small footbridge spanning a river of healing, loving waters. I stop halfway across the bridge and open the backpack. I pull out the first rock. It is an old friend—abandonment. I hold it, touching the rough surface, feeling the emptiness of the emotion in my body. When I am ready, I toss it into the river and watch, transfixed by the changing colors as the rock is transformed by the loving energy.

I continue emptying the backpack, revisiting old, familiar issues I've been working on for years: self-worth, loneliness, betrayal. At the bottom of the pack is an unfamiliar issue. A small pebble, the size of a marble, dense and heavy. I hold it in my hands, waiting for guidance.

Sobs burst forth. It is guilt. A very old guilt. Time swirls around me, the past and future blending into the present. I am two years old, maybe three. My father is ill. He is changed. He is in pain. The guilt is born in that moment: guilt that I cannot alleviate his pain. I cannot make him laugh.

Every moment of my life takes on a new meaning. The buried guilt motivating my every action: if I don't fix the pain, I am not worthy.
me:
She directs me to a small footbridge spanning a river of healing, loving waters. I stop halfway across the bridge and open the backpack. I pull out the first rock. It is an old friend—abandonment. I hold it, touching the rough surface, feeling the emptiness of the emotion in my body. When I am ready, I toss it into the river and watch, transfixed by the changing colors as the rock is transformed by the loving energy.

I continue emptying the backpack, revisiting old, familiar issues I've been working on for years: self-worth, loneliness, betrayal. At the bottom of the pack is an unfamiliar issue. A small pebble, the size of a marble, dense and heavy. I hold it in my hands, waiting for guidance.

Sobs burst forth. It is guilt. A very old guilt. Time swirls around me, the past and future blending into the present. I am two years old, maybe three. My father is ill. He is changed. He is in pain. The guilt is born in that moment: guilt that I cannot alleviate his pain. I cannot make him laugh.

Every moment of my life takes on a new meaning. The buried guilt motivating my every action: if I don't fix the pain, I am not worthy.
That was my story. That was what I'd been telling myself since the birth of that guilt. Now that the story was out, I began to change it, re-script it, find new evidence of my worthiness. The evidence was already there. I just hadn’t let it in yet because it didn't fit my story. Every compliment, thank you, or gift I'd received over the years had been deflected, pushed away, because that little girl knew she wasn't any good. Now, I could re-visit those moments of acceptance in a new light, and begin to let the love and acceptance into my heart.

Is this how I expected peace and harmony to manifest in my life? Not at all. At some level, I was expecting my ex-husband's behavior to change, too. But, this inner peace and harmony is much more than I ever expected. I love myself in a new way now that I have found a new level of self-acceptance. And it affects my interactions with everyone else in my life. I judge myself and others less harshly. I love others in a new way. While you may find the unexpected as you develop your self-coaching skills, keep in mind, that the unexpected will be even better than you could imagine.