Tricky Trick

Some days, I feel like I’ve cracked the code in making a living, that I’ve created a business where I draw people to me at the most pivotal times in their lives, a facilitator of change, a beacon of hope (and paid for it too!)

Unabashedly me. And the “me” part is my secret weapon.

Other days, I feel like I’m just another sprinter in a race as wide as the nation,

moving things around vigorously with my head down,

trying to “prove my value” before people even meet me,

peeking around the corner at a giant blank space on the other side of my appointments.

Keep moving, Cliff.

Fill the slots, change the lives.

I produce happiness… at scale. And sometimes even that, in all its nobility, can feel like a production line.

Fill the slots, change the lives.

Good news: I’ve found a way out of this mindset, a way to go from the dark to the light, or from the darkside to the brightside, as it were : )

The trick is to go smaller, to narrow my field of view.

If I focus on the connection in front of me instead of the line of connections I need to keep making… well, then I’m good.

And it’s all good.

But goddamn, that can be a tricky trick to play!

To feel each step instead of the distance in front of you.

To notice the faces of the other runners, and not just the outlines.

To feel the breeze without fear of the storm.

Reframing reality without lying to yourself is like walking across a long, skinny plank over shark-infested waters. In a hurricane.

I pretty much live on that plank, and I’ve gotten so I can do backflips on it without faltering. I walk the plank for myself and I take my clients across it 3-4 times per day.

That’s what us coaches do: we show you the narrow bridge that you missed.

And our faith in its strength is all that holds it up.

I told you, it’s a tricky trick.

Or a God-given talent.

Depends on the day.