(spoiler: why doing "nothing", sometimes trumps a New Year resolution)
How it went...
It’s January 1st 2025 (and a very Happy New Year to you).. This time last year, I was fired up by several “developmental projects” (rather than resolutions, which I have terrible form for keeping). These were:
the daily morning practice of writing “morning pages” - a habit of observing, and writing down, three A4 sides of whatever happens to be in your head at that moment - ala Julia Cameron
beginning a year long executive coaching and mentoring course from which I would qualify as an Executive Coach (Level 7) by the end of 2024
the “small” matter of finding a job after my public sector contract was culled six months ahead of time (sh*t, as they say, happens)
And a year on, I’m still writing morning pages, am a qualified coach and gainfully employed. Goals smashed, right?
How it's going...
Not even a little bit. None of this happened effortlessly or because I was driven and ambitious. It happened because I had no choice but to grind out these outcomes. 2024 was the year in which I’d made choices that turned out to be challenging - seemingly impossible - and with which I was royally stuck.
So this year I have no plans for personal development, no side hustles to speak of, nothing at all exciting in the pipework. My plan is simply to turn up, every day, as I am, whatever that looks like. Some days I may need to drag my sorry arse across the finish line and some days I may smash it.
Becayse I’m done feeling like I have to do more this, or be more that, or project something into the universe that implies self-made success, ad infinitum. For which, incidentally, I blame those effortlessly brilliant published writers, myriad of self-help books, inspirational social media posts and jaw dropping, awe inspiring LinkedIn profiles of women who are just, simply. killing it. And to whom I now say, "fuck the fuckety fuck off". Because that's what got me into this mess in the first place.
This is now my journey, my way, on my timeline.
The snake oil of having it all
There is something about the start of a new year which can be hideously deceptive; limitless possibilities stretching ahead of you on a brand new, clean slate.
Or, sometimes it’s just because you are happy to see the back of your own, personal annus horribilis (for example, many LinkedIn posters in my feed this morning are frogmarching 2024 to the door with collective, unabashed glee).
I was several weeks into my coaching course when I landed a temporary contract. Terrific, I thought (although I found the idea of learning to coach, as well as hitting the ground running in my new contract, simultaneously terrifying)..
A year long course doesn’t give you a lot of time to do your research or build your foundation knowledge and there can be no winging it in the art of coaching. You have to be all in and present. Equally, as is typical of short-term contracts, there was a lot of work to do in a ridiculously short space of time.
The answer was to defer some of my online coaching sessions to the next cohort, later that year (all sessions must be attended in order to graduate) and hope I was in a less stressful contract when that time came.
But I wasn’t.
A (wo)man's got to know there limitations
Clint Eastwood
I’d decided to apply for a job as a change manager on a long-term FTC (allowing me the gift of a long-term contract that would help me balance my work/study commitments).
Unbelievably, yes, that was the thing top of mind; that gift of time and how glorious it would be to have a run of stability in my working life.
Not for a second did I seriously worry about the absence of any practical experience as a “proper” change manager. And, dear reader, let me tell you, you can have qualifications galore but that is of scant help when you audition for a role you had no business assuming you could do, easy peasy lemon squeezy.
I’ll share the story of this FTC in my next blog, suffice to say it has been a vertical learning curve up a very slippery slope, where I had to think of a reason not to leave, every, single day.
But I had been offered this opportunity to gain meaningful, hands-on experience in an area I knew would be a great fit for my skills set, and how rarely those come along. Quitting wasn't an option.
As if all this wasn’t challenging enough, I needed to begin my “coaching hours” so I could apply the theory of what I was learning to practice, as part of my course. These took place every couple of weeks, usually at lunchtime, and there were many times I felt like The Biggest Imposter Who Ever Lived.
But no coaching hours meant no qualification and I'd always wanted to integrate coaching into my offerings as a consultant.
What I learnt
I showed up. I learnt I could do that. I could try my hardest. When that wasn’t enough (and truthfully, there were many days it wasn’t), I resolved to find an opportunity to improve the next day.
Let me be clear, it was the most soul sinking drudge; an impossible set of commitments for which I felt completely under qualified, after years of being more than competent and what I do professionally.
Yet, here I am, January 1st, no longer so green, no longer a novice.
I did my coaching hours, passed my course and can now work as an accredited coach. Better than that, my coachees found our sessions helpful, inspiring even?!
I’m also hitting my stride as a change manager. Once I removed the weight of the job title and focussed on the problem I was trying to solve, the solutions quickly followed.
But I promise you, none of that happens because I get up at 5am, do yoga, drink kale smoothies or have titanium grade resilience. I just got up, and I kept going.
I didn’t like where I was, my comfort zone was fifty metres beneath my feet, and my limiting beliefs and self-doubting narrative could easily have rivalled Baby Shark for sheer, unadultered, relentless monotony.
But I do feel like I’ve come out of the other side. There's no superhero cape to be had here, I 'm no trailblazer. But I do know sitting where you're most uncomfortable, and feel most out of place, is sometimes where you grow the most.
So if you're thinking about resolutions, or stepping things up a gear or two, remember there is a beginning which is exciting, full of promise. There is also an end which (hopefully) brings with it satisfaction. And then there is the middle. Messy as hell, completely unchartered terrain, often with no GPS or decent walking shoes. And no cruise control function.
That's the holy grail of your success story.
Comments