I Confess....I Have a Coach!

When I wake up in the morning, I don't fret as much as I use to in the past.  It has been a big challenge for me, but I'm improving.  Not improving my fretting (which I think I'm already The Master of All), but cultivating a mind-set that's okay with the present.   

I confess, I still have a well, worn-in grove, in my brain, for fretting.  My thoughts follow its smooth, predictable path when I let down my guard and slip into its rut.  Once my mind hits the edge and slides into this track, I might as well close my eyes, because I can't see through the fog.  I glide along and let the leader take over, weakening under her power.

Coach the Perfect is in charge.  She's complete with a clipboard, endless blue ink in her pen and a memory that makes the FBI interrogators look like wimps. Oh, and I forgot to mention, she has a cheer-leading squad.  They stand behind her.  They're like the echo in a nightmare, repeating everything she shouts out.

When I wake up in the morning (or even in the middle of the night) Coach starts on me with her whiny squad, right behind her. 

"What am I doing today?"      "Go-Go,   Get Smarter-Get Smarter!"

"Did you remember to get milk?"   "Step up-Step up,   Don't Falter-Falter!" 

"You were suppose to call Deb."   "Get it-Get it,   Together-Together!"  

"How will you ever get everything done?"    "Run-Run,   Faster-Faster!"

"Where did you put the receipt?"   "Look for it-Look for it,  Find it-Find it!"

"Is that you in the mirror?"  "Not Good Enough-Not Good Enough!"

I hope, for my own dignity, I once questioned or fought back against being bossed and pushed around like this.  It is pretty hard to avoid a voice inside you, taking charge of your life.   I've tried to be aggressive.  I've shouted, "SHUT UP!"  or  "GET OFF IT!"  It really only seems to increase my agitation.  Coach the Perfect only gets more demanding.

I think my resistance had long been worn down.  Letting Coach lead me is a hard and fast habit I've developed. It takes a lot of work and determination to resist. 

I didn't hire this coach. (or the cheer-leading squad)  I allowed them to take over, many years ago. They have reserved seats now.  They have a Gold Season Pass to my mind activity.  The thing I've had to change is not whether I open the gate for them, but if I get my uniform on and play the game for them.

The hard work is practicing letting the gate swing open, allowing Coach (and his squad) to come in and squawk all they want.  I focus on the present.  I put one foot in front of the other and be aware of the moment, the task, the non-task, the taste, the smell, the colors, the temperature and their voices get weaker and weaker.  I'm out of the rut swallowing me up and I'm calmer, more focused in a relaxed way.  Happier.

They sit down on the coach's bench and their voices become weaker and weaker.  The distraction from them is less and less.

This wasn't something I discovered myself.  I read, I get counseling.  I listen and watch other people. I practice strategies.  I write and think about what makes me more at peace with myself.  What I need, what I want.

I question whether I'm able to do the work to get there.  I know people I love, who are doing the work.  We talk about the practices, we laugh about our failings and our weaknesses.  We also talk about how liberating it is not to self-recriminate, judge, ridicule, punish or accuse ourselves.

This is a life-long work.  I don't think for one minute Coach the Perfect, or the rut she waits for me in, is going to go away.  I know I'm more aware of succumbing to her when I'm overly tired, overly stressed, overly self-critical or judgemental.  I more likely slip into the groove.  I regress.  

How will I ever win the "Championship" if I don't allow myself to be coached?  I don't want a trophy.  I want peace and love, man!