The winding road that lead me to set up a coaching in nature practice
I was 34 years old before I realised that I hadn’t really ever stopped to properly consider what I like doing and how I could do more of that.
A long term relationship had ended unexpectedly in the summer. I spent the rest of the year licking my wounds and being supported by friends and family. I decided to move away from London and back to Bristol, a place so familiar it was my second home.
I knew I’d end up going back to therapy to help me sort through my feelings around the end of the relationship. But I also knew that this also meant investing some time figuring out simply who I was as a person in my own right. Full disclosure, I was back in Bristol for several months before the therapy started! But I did make a start in other ways.
I really like cricket but didn’t have any existing friendships with folk who shared that interest. So I signed up to volunteer at a local cricket club and spent the summer building new connections and enjoying what I appreciate many consider to be a very boring sport but which for me is a whole world of ebbs and flows that is unrivalled.
I also signed up to the new beginner course of a samba drumming band. Now this was possibly the best decision I could have made. The joy I feel at playing with a group (side note: I am not typically a group person, feeling a bit overwhelmed and not quite knowing where I fit) and creating a feeling that’s so disconnected from my thinking self is, for me, worth it’s weight in gold.
There we go, I’ve used that word. Joy.
Another unexpected event
saw me start 2020 with an existential crisis. Diagnosed with cervical cancer at the age of 35. Not much joy in that.
The addition of a global pandemic was fun.
You’ll recall that in England there was a time we were permitted one walk a day. After surgery this became quite important for me. I thought, if I’m only allowed out of the house once a day and I need to recover from surgery the best way I can, I better make the most of it.
My mum was staying with me to help as I recovered so off we went, every day, step by step. I was catheterized for two weeks which made walking that little bit more uncomfortable but I was determined.
Some weeks after surgery I made it to a local recreation ground – it was Easter and I was really proud of my longest walk yet. Better yet, I could see a lot of green and there was a sense of possibility with spring in the air.
I think it was during this period that I actually started to realise the benefits I felt from simply being outdoors and seeing green spaces. By the time my birthday came around in June, Mum had gone back home and I marked the day by going on a 6 mile walk with my housemate.
Having been running for a number of years, walking was offering me something different. I noticed more, was less focussed on how long it was taking and the movement itself seemed to make things happen internally.
Navigating life post cancer diagnosis was hard. I can’t pretend it was otherwise; the end of 2020 featured a huge amount of grief work in therapy. I recall feeling indescribably sad and bereft; I shed many tears and was grateful for a compassionate and hugely skilled therapist.
Eventually something emerged that has led me here.
Work had previously been, at times, a significant source of stress. Part of this was because I’m a bit of a perfectionist and have a broken barometer when it comes to knowing what’s “good enough”. I spent years focussing on a narrow sense of achievement. I did not nurture joy and I did not stop to think (and feel) whether I was living authentically.
What emerged for me after 2020 was something along the lines of what if I cared less about things that don’t really matter so much? What if I did more of what I like? What is it that I like? How can I figure that out?
Cue more volunteering, walking, yin yoga (honestly such a good way to learn the art of letting go), saving and buying a house, creating a home, knowing my own value and training as a coach.
I’d met two coaches through work and felt like their mindset was something really quite different to what I’d encountered before. That sense of possibility I felt after the Easter walk in 2020 was echoing – what if people could be supported to focus on what’s possible and taking steps to get there? What if quality feedback was the norm, with learning opportunities noticed and acted upon? What if people could get to the heart of the matter quicker and feel a sense of contentment they’d longed for? I’m in!
My own life history and coaching now collide. In the past I’ve been burnt out, stressed, worrying about things that in the scheme of things don’t really matter and living with a sense that things could be different. I’ve also worked alongside people who’ve been in a similar position.
What if burn out wasn’t considered inevitable?
What if we woke up most days looking forward to what lay ahead?
What if we regularly felt that sense of joy that fills our hearts, stomachs and indeed every fibre of our being?
For me these things can be supported by stepping outdoors. Movement, fresh air, nature – what great partners for exploring where the joy lies. I’m passionate about joy because I know what it feels like when it’s missing. I’m no longer prepared to live without nurturing joy and want to help others do the same.
So that’s why I do what I do.