If I read the phrase “these uncertain times” one more time, I will not be held accountable for my actions. It’s flat, hackneyed, over-used – and I’m sure I’m guilty of having written it myself. That said, it is a fairly accurate description of our current situation. While I don’t believe we live in a more dangerous, difficult or indeed uncertain age than any other, I think we have of late been suffering from a very specific kind of confusion, ambiguity and unpredictability. Can we travel? Mask or no mask? Will school be open today? Will events go ahead? Can I leave the house?
Unsurprisingly for a coach, I am usually in full resolutions mode at this time of year. I’m setting goals, defining objectives, listing behaviours to change or adopt – both for me and with my clients. However, given the aforementioned uncertainty of our times, I am finding it rather hard to get excited about planning my year. It seems futile to set too many objectives when the goalposts are changing so often, but starting a new year without any kind of momentum is anathema to me.
So, what can you do if you want to get 2022 off to a mindful start and a positive direction, but you can’t quite find it in you to set SMART goals and make a chart with shiny gold stars? For me, this year’s resolutions are going to give achievement a rest and focus instead on intention. In other words, not so much of the what (or where and when) but a bit more of the how and why.
It ain’t what you do, it’s the way that you do it
So, what’s the difference between an objective and an intention? Well, when I take my children to school, for example, my objective is very simple: I want to get them both to the school gates on time, fully dressed and shod, and carrying all the things they need. Now I’ll just wait while all the parents reading this pick themselves up off the floor from laughing at my calling that objective simple – it is indeed anything but! But you get my point. My intention for our journey to school is more complex. As we walk, I want to enjoy a moment with the children when my attention cannot be elsewhere. I want to take the opportunity to chat with them, maybe play games like I Spy, and generally set a positive tone for our day. All too often, the achievement of my objective seems at odds with my ability to stick to my intention. But when I am on my fifth “Please go round the muddy puddles!” (curse Peppa Pig) and their hundredth “I’ve got a stone in my shoe”, holding my intention in mind helps me keep calm, retain perspective, and remember that, to me, how we get to school is almost as important as getting there at all.
Resolving with intent
Let’s apply this to topics that are often the basis for resolutions. Getting healthy, for example. The objective might be to lose a few kilos and gain some muscle. The way in which you go about doing that and the activities you put in place will differ greatly depending on your intention, which might be anything from “self-care” to “setting an example to the kids” or “moving with joy”. Your objective defines your destination, but your intention sets the tone for the trip there.
You don’t even need to associate an intention to an objective to experience the benefits of this psychological hack. What would it feel like to enter 2022 without goals and objectives but with the simple intention of, say, prioritising kindness towards yourself and other people? Your intention might be a single word: strength, joy, patience, Namaste. Or a colour. Or maybe it takes the form of an image: a tree in gusty winds that is flexible enough to bend and so is never broken, for example. Or perhaps it’s even a little abstract – like a brilliant UK advert I remember from years ago encouraging people to be more playful and enthusiastic with the slogan “Be more dog”. Just think about the flavour, tone and colour you want to experience this year and see what comes to you.
Let your intention guide you
However you express your intention, simply by setting it and holding it in your mind, you will find you have a guide to help you with choices all year long. I know Christians who ask themselves “What would Jesus do?” when facing difficult decisions. If that’s not your thing, try asking what your intention would do. Your to-do list in overloaded, a friend calls to ask for help with a work issue, and you need to pick up the kids in 30 minutes. What would “self-care” do? What would “focus” do? What would “energetic” do? Even if you don’t call on your intention for active guidance, just setting it and then letting it drift to your subconscious mind will affect your mood and choices more than you may realise.
In setting an intention for your year, you take your mind off your destination for a while and focus on how you are journeying through life. I am convinced that, given today’s circumstances, setting an intention for 2022 will go a lot further towards boosting wellbeing, happiness and fulfilment than best-laid plans and SMART goals.
Whether you want more fulfilment in your personal life, career, family, relationships or friendships, holistic support from an experienced coach can help you take effective action backed by the right intentions to keep you on track. Contact me for your free introductory coaching session to find out how working together can help you build a life lived with purpose and on purpose.
Asking yourself (and taking the time to answer!) these six powerful questions can help you emerge from lockdown with renewed purpose and a stronger sense of self.
One thing has dominated our lives for the last 18 months and, sadly, it has not been Bridgerton or Call My Agent! (although both definitely dominated quite a few of my evenings). The list of adjectives to describe the last year and a half is long – challenging and dismal for many, liberating and enlightening for some. I have read countless articles about how people are making the most of lockdown (this often involves sourdough bread-making and growing out hair dye), dozens on the impact it is having on our minds and bodies (we are calmer, less productive, happier, lonelier, fatter, fitter…), and loads about how the world will either be forever changed or will swiftly go back to how it was before.
How was it for you?
I myself have been – perhaps conspicuously – silent on the subject of COVID and lockdown in this blog and my newsletter. Mainly because I have felt so much was already being said and also because I – like many – have been zealous in limiting my engagement with the news, statistics and speculation in order to preserve my mental health and happiness. I am also acutely aware of how easy I have had it compared to many. My family is in good health, my husband and I can both work from home in our reasonably spacious house with all the tech we need, and we have suffered no bereavement due to the virus. The main emotion I have felt relating to COVID has been anxiety. Not really about actually getting ill, more about the loss of liberty, the need to fill the children’s days, and the general sense of uncertainty about the future. I am not alone, I know. So, while I feel I weathered the lockdown storm relatively well (the first one with two small children at home 24/7!), catching up on photo albums, writing, and keeping busy with house projects, I would have felt utterly unqualified to advise anyone as to how to find the silver linings in the situation. However, as we emerge from the latest of three fairly comprehensive and long lockdowns here in France, I now find myself tempted to weigh in.
Time to think
Apart from doing massive amounts of gardening and spending hours on crafts with the kids, my main lockdown activity was – unsurprisingly, given my profession – introspection and self-work. Stripped of all my usual diversions, I had the time to take a long look at my life and ask some questions about where I am and where I want to be. Ironically, “time for yourself to step out of your life and take a look at where you are and where you want to be” is generally how I describe the utility of a coaching session to clients. So in lockdown, I found myself face to face with the proverb of “physician, heal thyself”, or in this case, “coach, coach thyself”. Now, as we step out of confinement, as the French call it, it’s time to put all that introspection to good use in (re)constructing our lives and incorporating some changes, tweaks and enhancements based on insights gained while weeding, sewing and eating sourdough bread.
Questions to exit lockdown mindfully
These are the questions I am asking myself now, as I reclaim all the buildings blocks that make up a full life, so many of which were put on hold for so long – things like time with friends, travel, entertainment, hobbies, family time, learning, career development… I hope they will inspire you too.
- What is my relationship to uncertainty?
Some people are happy winging it and going with the flow. I know many and like them immensely, but I am not, nor will I ever be, one of them. I am one of life’s planners, organisers and charge-takers. The uncertainty about the future generated by the health crisis has been, in some ways, a positive influence on me in this respect. It has forced me to become more adaptable and allow for the unexpected. As lockdown lifts, I know life is not going to suddenly become predictable again – we may still face more lockdowns, for example. But instead of fearing the unknown, I am asking myself: How do I want to deal with the current lack of certainty? What tools do I have to help me through it? What pleasure can I find in not knowing what’s around the corner?
- Which people did I really miss?
Think about the people you really yearned for during lockdown. Now think about who you spent most of your time with in the days before COVID. If the two answers aren’t the same (for example, maybe you were having drinks with colleagues a lot but could only find one evening every three months to chat with a close friend who moved abroad), think about how you can find more time for the really important people. Maybe you need to weed out a few uninspiring or unfulfilling commitments and people from your planner to make time for the things that matter. Or perhaps you can structure calls and meet-ups into your calendar more regularly?
- How do I want to spend my time?
For a while there, our choices about how we spend our free time were severely restricted. Now that our options are multiplying, it’s our chance to break old habits and make more mindful choices about what we do and who we do it with. Pre-lockdown, I spent a lot of my social time “having drinks”, and yet actually during lockdown what I really missed was the theatre. I have therefore resolved to scale back on the Chablis and aim for a monthly theatre outing once everything’s up and running.
- What’s my busy-ness limit?
One of the most-cited “gifts” of lockdown was the permission it gave many of us to slow down. (I‘m excluding certain groups with this statement, of course, people such as healthcare professionals, for example – but to them I wouldn’t dream of giving any advice, the only thing they should be told is “Thank you, here’s a raise, some time off, and lot more funding”. But I digress.) It really took off the pressure to take in exhibitions, keep up with film releases, make dinner reservations, fit in the gym, organise play dates, and plan outings. It simply allowed us to stop running. As invitations and possibilities start to present themselves again, we have the opportunity to ask: How often am I comfortable going out? How much time do I like to have between appointments? How many commitments can I really enjoy in a single weekend?
- What habits do I want to maintain?
Many of us formed new habits during lockdown that it would be a shame to let slip now that life is becoming slightly more normal. Some people took up a sport, or started morning meditation. All jokes aside, some people discovered the pleasure of baking their own bread. My husband and I used to (and still do) sit on our front step after putting the kids to bed for a brief moment of quiet time to check in with each other and debrief about the day. Now that other activities are competing for our attention, it’s the right time to think about the things you started doing (often out of necessity or simply to help you cope) that you don’t want to give up.
- What didn’t I miss?
We might think a lot about the people and things we missed during lockdown, but I’m sure we also all had things we were happy to let go. Commuting. Wearing a suit. Eating at your desk. Running for the train after work to ensure you pick up the kids on time. It would be so easy to fall back into our old ways of doing things, so take this opportunity to go “back to normal” on purpose and with purpose. For some that might actually mean not going back, that is to say making a total change in job and lifestyle. For others, it might mean smaller adjustments like doing weekend batch-cooking so you can take a home-made lunch to work instead of buying a sandwich. Or perhaps having a firm “no meetings after 4pm” policy so you can leave work on time and your evening is less rushed.
Major life transitions – whether positive or negative – can be incredibly stressful. And just because we’re happy to emerge from lockdown doesn’t make it any less a source of stress than going into it. But transitions are also a prime opportunity for us to make changes – both to our outward-facing lives and our inner selves. Asking yourself a few powerful questions right now can help make the difference between whether you look back and view the last 18 months as a zoom, home yoga and online scrabble marathon or a time when you seized the chance to press “reset” and move a little closer to the life you truly desire.
If you’re looking to make some changes as you emerge from lockdown and reconstruct your life, expert coaching that focuses on fulfilment and personal satisfaction can help you figure out how you want your life to look and how you can make the vision a reality. Contact me for your free introductory coaching session to find out how working together can help you build a life lived with purpose and on purpose.
Of late, my family has been enjoying our first small but successful crop of tulips, grape hyacinths and narcissi. They have provided a joyful burst of colour in some slightly bare patches of the garden and offered a much-needed springtime boost while the rest of our plants take their time unfurling and emerging. Whilst we were taking our morning tea outside recently (yes, I binged on Bridgerton during the latest lockdown and have decided that I no longer drink but “take” my tea), my husband commented that he had no recollection of me planting those bulbs. “Of course not,” I answered, “I did it way back in October just after we pruned everything else back”.
Planting bulbs is a funny thing to do, isn’t it? Just as the rest of the garden is shedding leaves and retreating for the winter, it’s time to plant bulbs that will sit in the frozen ground for months before pushing their way up to the light almost half a year later. It’s actually an incredible metaphor for hope. We put these vulnerable little plants in the ground as the weather – and sometimes our mood – begins to feel bleak, in the hope that, come spring, they will flourish – daffodils trumpeting triumphant over the dark days; the crocus bursting forth to celebrate renewal and rebirth.
All about the now
Our enjoyment of the long-awaited patches of colour provided by spring flowers is particularly relevant today, in a society where instant gratification has become the norm. I recently ordered a coat stand for our entranceway and was shocked – outraged! – appalled! to discover we would have to wait four whole weeks for delivery. Meanwhile, the foot rest I bought for my desk arrived in just 48 hours. Now, that’s more like it, I thought to myself. But that kind of quick fix, no-sooner-thought-than-bought, make the call – get it done result is so rarely how life works. In my experience, more often than not, the real rewards we reap in our lives come from the tiny seeds we planted months, maybe years ago, in the hope that one day they would bear fruit.
Playing the long game
Online shopping notwithstanding, very few of the actions we implement in our lives are immediately rewarding. Not only do most of them require some degree of patience, but many also depend on repetition and consistency. My choice of a salad over a burger this evening will not register on the scales tomorrow morning. But making that choice consistently, day after day, will result in weight loss over time. The same can be said for the efforts of parenting. Taking the time to foster a love of reading in your child, teach them about different religions, or let them help with household chores (even when it actually slows you down) can often feel like a drop in the ocean and you sometimes wonder how much is really going in. But wait a while, and you’ll see that all those choices have planted seeds that will grow into trees of literacy, tolerance, and a sense of responsibility.
Four years ago I spoke at a conference on self-care and wellbeing. I came home and told my husband, “Well, that was fun, but I don’t know if anything with come of it”. Nothing much did, really, until a month ago when a man I met that day contacted me to start coaching sessions as he finally felt ready to start working towards a more fulfilling life. Now, that’s a real example of playing the long game!
You gotta have faith
I have to admit that I had to – as the French characteristically dramatically put it – me faire violence (do violence to myself) when I decided to plant those bulbs last autumn. I really had to force myself. It was cold, I was lockdown-weary, and I wasn’t convinced the on-sale bulbs I’d bought looked that healthy and would actually sprout at all. But now, as I sit in the garden surrounded by flaming red tulips and nodding narcissi, I am so pleased I found some motivation that day, even when I felt the result was uncertain. Looking at them reminds me that often in life, we have to take action and just have faith that – maybe not today, maybe not tomorrow (and maybe not even soon or for the rest of our lives) – but that at some point what we do will pay off. Because the explanation for a successful, fulfilling life is the same as for a colourful, flower-filled garden: it’s blooming because I planted the seeds necessary to make it that way.`
If you’re looking to re-landscape your life, plant the seeds of some life changes, or maybe pull out a few old weeds that are holding you back, coaching can help you target your actions and accelerate change. Contact me for your free introductory coaching session to find out how working together can help you build a life lived with purpose and on purpose.
If you’re trying to establish healthy new habits, it can help to hold yourself accountable using a home-made habit tracker. I tried one out for a month and learned some valuable lessons in the process.
As a former nail-biter, I speak from experience when I say that it is hard to break a habit. However, this month I learned that it can be just as hard to form a new habit. In January, I made a list of some healthy things I wanted to do for myself this year. Drink a litre of water per day, for example. Do yoga every day. Get on the cross-trainer twice a week. Integrate a gratitude practice into my day. Actually use and not just stock those little interdental brushes. I was full of superb intentions.
However, as February loomed large, I looked at my list and was forced to observe that I had done almost none of the above. So, uniting two of my passions – taking action and making lists – I created a habit tracker, put it on my kitchen noticeboard, and got busy.
What’s a habit tracker?
Well, as you can see from the image above, it’s basically a list associated to a calendar. (Funny story about lists. As we’re leaving for the market the other day, my five-year-old daughter asks, “Mummy, you haven’t made a list of what we need – shall I do it?” My gobsmacked and slightly horrified husband looks at me and gasps, “You’ve created a mini-you!” while I just beamed with pride.)
Back to the tracker. On the vertical axis, you list the (presumably good) habits you want to form. Across the top, you write out the days of the month. At the end of each day, you colour in the corresponding boxes to show whether you did or did not manage to maintain your new habit. I kept it simple with red for “didn’t do it” and green for “achieved!” but you can add more nuance with, say, blue for “half done” or perhaps yellow for “I tried but due to circumstances beyond my control (children/work/act of God) I didn’t manage it”. Some people add an extra element by tracking their mood or physical feelings each day, which helps them notice the impact of maintaining their chosen habits.
And the point is?
For me, the first objective of the habit tracker was to provide me with an accessible visual reminder of the habits I wanted to build. It also made me hold myself accountable. As a Good Student who likes getting gold stars on wall charts (Oh my goodness. New plan. Next month, I’m actually buying little gold star stickers. Can’t believe I didn’t think of that before!), it made me feel uncomfortable and dissatisfied when I had to colour a box in red. Not enough to damage self-esteem or motivation, but enough to make me want to do better the next day.
So, what did I learn?
I realised a number of things about myself during this process, and also a number of things about the art of creating good habits. Here are my – watch out! corp-speak coming up – key learnings and takeaways.
- How many matters
My habit list grew during the month and I ended up tracking 15 habits. For me, this was just about manageable, but I think that any more would have been too much. I’m sure many would say one at a time is best, perhaps three maximum, but I’m inclined to think you have to find what works for you. It may take a couple of tries to figure out how many habits you are comfortable working on at one time. But don’t worry, the idea is to acquire new habits and make them second nature, so you can start tracking new ones!
- Mix it up
One thing that helped me track so many habits was that they varied in nature. Some were physical (water, yoga, flossing); some were social (call, write or email a friend every day); others were mental or spiritual (create a gratitude practice). This also ensured I continued working on myself in a holistic way without getting too caught up with just one aspect of my being.
- Every day is easier than every week
I included a couple of weekly goals in my habit tracker and it just didn’t work for me. Firstly, it’s simply easier to commit to doing something every day than every week. Every week opens the door to “I’ll do that one tomorrow”, whereas with every day, there’s no way out. I think a weekly habit tracker could work, but if I were going to do that again, I’d keep it separate from my daily one and consult it at a different time.
- Tracking is not enough – you need a plan
Simply making and hanging your colourful chart will not put in place the good behaviours you’re seeking. You need to make a plan. Flossing’s a no-brainer for me (do it every night before brushing), but drinking water was harder. My cunning plan – which worked quite well – was to fill a litre bottle every morning and make sure I emptied it by the end of the day. I also decided to have a glass of that water while waiting for the kettle to boil each time I made tea. On the other hand, I did not make a concrete plan for how I was going to cultivate more gratitude, and I have to say that’s the habit that I really didn’t manage to create. Needless to say it’s on my March list.
- It helps to hitch new habits to the wagons of old ones
It can really help to attach a new habit to an existing one. I never go to bed without brushing my teeth, for example, so it was relatively easy to add flossing to my nightly ritual. I am a total tea addict, so drinking a glass of water for every mug of tea also worked well. To help anchor the gratitude habit, I’m currently considering a few methods: one is listing the things I’m thankful for while drying my hair, others are: while I walk to school to collect my daughter, while in the shower, and while tidying up the small regional branch of Toys R Us that is our sitting room at the end of the day.
6. It takes more than a month
Studies have shown that it takes a little over two months (66 days in fact) to create a new habit. I’ll be able to report my thoughts on that at the end of March, but for the moment, the one thing I can say for sure is that it takes time. Creating a new habit takes discipline and control, but above all it takes perseverance. It’s easy to lose motivation, especially if you have a series of days coloured red on your habit tracker. But the keys to getting into a habit are the same as getting out of one: take one day at a time and keep trying – even if that means picking yourself up, dusting yourself off and starting all over again every morning.
7. You have to care
If you keep trying and trying, but a new habit just doesn’t seem to stick, ask yourself how committed you really are. I included “eat one piece of fruit per day” on mine and, after over a month, I’ve only managed a handful of times. So, I’m wondering how strongly I really feel about the habit. I know it would be good for me, but I eat loads of veg, so I’m not sure it would make as big a difference to my life as my daily litre of water. Ask yourself where the idea for the new habit is coming from, too. Is this something you really believe in and want to establish, or is it an example of you should-ing on yourself or making someone else’s priority your problem? Remember that, like the tracker itself, good habits are there to serve you. Make sure you keep a firm handle on the master-servant relationship when it comes to both.
One last thing. Newsflash: it turns out water really is important. Who’da thunk it, eh? It appears that when I drink my daily litre, I’m far less tired, less inclined to snack, and my skin looks better. I believe some people have been wise to the virtues of this miracle substance for some time, but apparently I had to learn for myself to believe the reports of its life-enhancing properties…
If you’re finding it hard to give up an old habit or put in place some new ones, I can help. Compassionate, zero-judgement support from a qualified coach can make a huge difference when you’re looking to change any part of your life that isn’t currently working for you. Contact me for your free introductory coaching session to see how you can upgrade to a life lived with purpose and on purpose.
What if shifting your focus from having a good day to making the most of your day could liberate you to enjoy even the dreariest of chore-filled days?
Every morning, as I see my children off to school and the childminder’s house, I give them the same three things: a hug, a kiss, and a cheery instruction to “have a great day” or “enjoy the day”. However, one morning last week, something changed. I had hurt my back so my husband was taking the kids in, and as I was – with some difficulty – leaning into the car to kiss them goodbye, I said: “Make the most of your day, guys!”
Make the most of your day. Now, there’s an interesting idea.
As I went back into my house in search of ibuprofen and a hot water bottle, I got to thinking about what I had –involuntarily – said to my children, and the bigger message I had conveyed.
Now, thanks to the American movie industry and the proliferation of Starbucks, we are all quite used to hearing and being told to have a nice day. Or a good day. Or a great day. We’re forever wishing each other enjoyable days. But here I was talking about something else, something greater than a great day. The French have a handy verb for this idea: profiter. Take advantage. Make the most of. Get the best out of. Extract all you can. Seize opportunity. The boys of the dead poets’ society got the idea – carpe diem and all that. But what does it really mean to do that – to make the most of the day? What does that look like? And how do our words make a difference?
The different shades of making the most
For me, making the most of my day means something very different depending on the day of the week. I do paid work four days a week, so on Monday, Tuesday, Thursday and Friday, it can simply mean doing what I need to earn enough to pay the bills. But, given my profession, it can also mean feeling like I have truly served my coaching clients by being fully present for them and supporting their journey. Or it can mean attending a networking event and talking to as many people as possible, being courageous and working the room. Some days it might mean getting through the pile of administrative tasks that are par for the course when you run a business. Making the most of a work day means, in essence, extracting everything from it that can serve either my clients or my business.
I spend Wednesdays with my children, so those days are very different. Making the most of the day might mean ensuring I take the time to practice reading with my daughter. Or forgetting about the laundry and spending some quality time on Lego and puzzles. It might also mean finding the stamina to get through multiple two-year-old tantrums without losing my temper or my mind. And let’s face it, it might also mean using the children’s nap time to catch up on some sleep myself.
Be here now
Now, while I love my work, and I adore my children, quite a few of the activities listed above are not what I would consider fun, nice or enjoyable. Business admin gives me a knot in my stomach for fear I’ll screw up and bring down the full force of the French trésor publique on me. Equally, networking is something of a necessary evil, Lego has its limits, and I don’t think hating tantrums makes me unique amongst parents! And yet all of those things count, for me, as part of making the most of the day. There are even times when the best use of your time is actually doing something specifically unpleasant – like undergoing a painful but necessary medical procedure, or having a difficult but valuable conversation with a friend who has hurt you.
Making the most of the day has a notion of being about a longer-term goal than having a nice day. It’s about doing something today that will serve you tomorrow, or next week. It’s about being here now, facing what has to be done with at least a smidge of enthusiasm rather than tackling tasks begrudgingly, all the time wishing you could be somewhere else, doing something else. It’s also about making the most important use of your time: there are days when resting really is the most productive thing you can do.
Perspective on the message
So, what’s the bigger picture here? Am I reading too much into a few words we casually toss to our children, partners, colleagues and – in France – anyone we meet and speak to all day (the French “bonne journée” upon leaving the bakery is sacrosanct)? I don’t think so. I think it’s subtle but the words we use have meaning and they shape how we see the world. By telling my daughter to have a good/fun/nice day, I’m telling her that life is supposed to be good/fun/nice, and if her day isn’t those things, that she has somehow failed, or that life has failed to live up to her expectations.
The truth is: not all parts of life are fun. In fact, some of the most fulfilling, enriching and rewarding life experiences we’ll ever have are quite the opposite. (Childbirth, anyone? Therapy? Running a marathon?) Of course, a lot of the time, when we say “have a good day”, our actual intention is somewhere closer to “make the most of the day”, but linguistic precision is important. By consciously changing our mindset to seeking to make the most of the day, rather than enjoy it, we accept that not every day will be joyful but that doesn’t diminish its value. This in turn can help us see even a very challenging, enraging or saddening day as useful and instructive or as contributing to a long-term goal.
A sprinkling of sugary joy along the way
The cherry on the cake, of course, is making the most of the day with the right attitude and intention. I might spend the day cleaning the house – useful, necessary – but if I can do it while listening to music and dancing as I hoover, maybe I can turn it into a fun one too. Mary Poppins knew it years ago: you might have to clean the kids’ bedroom, or go on a long drive, or do admin and pay bills but in every job that must be done, there can be an element of fun. For me, letting go of the belief that every day should be fun enables me to accept the day for what it is, and by aiming to make the most of it I often find a sprinkling of enjoyment emerges even amidst the nastiest of tasks.
Except for managing the two-year-old’s tantrums. There’s not enough sugar in the world to make that medicine go down.
If you’re finding it hard working out how to make the most of your day, your week or your life at the moment, you’re not alone. I can help you figure out where you want to be and how you can get there – hopefully with some joy and fun along the way. Contact me for your free introductory coaching session to see how you can get more out of a life lived with purpose and on purpose.