Two Things You Should Know Before We Work Together

“Man, sometimes it takes you a long time to sound like yourself.” —Miles Davis

Here are two things you should know that aren’t on LinkedIn, my website, or anywhere else on the internet.

1. I was very late to crawling. 

At well over a year, my parents were becoming concerned. Day after day they would place me on a blanket in the middle of the kitchen floor where I would then remain, unmoving.

They tried crawling demonstrations—actual role playing on hands and knees. They would place me in crawl position and then try to warm-up my motion allergic limbs hoping to kickstart this anti-toddler into crawling. But I preferred a more observational posture, sitting on a blanket in the middle of the kitchen, occasionally reaching out to the suck the cat’s tail as it walked by.

I’ve heard this story of being a cat tail sucker 1000s of times and I can’t believe I’m repeating it here.

2. I was very good at tromboning. 

I played in the National Honour Band at 16, travelled to Europe, won awards, got a scholarship in Trombone Performance at a university in Texas, and would practice 6+ hours a day. 

I remember a conversation with my trombone teacher where we were discussing two of the best trumpet players in Edmonton at the time: Jens Lindemann and Bill Dimmer. Jens played with the Canadian Brass and was a virtuoso—blazing speed, stratospheric high register, charismatic demeanour. Jens was a rock star for band nerds. Bill played with the Edmonton Symphony Orchestra, wore cardigans and had a long list of students—those who studied with him and those who were waiting to.

My teacher asked me why I thought this was. I had no idea. He said, “No one plays like Jens. He’s a genius. Of course, everyone would love to play like him but no one can. Yet everyone wants to study with Bill. Why? Because the trumpet has not come easy to Bill. He has had to work very, very hard for every bit of understanding and proficiency. So many things came naturally to Jens, but Bill has had to learn how to play, which has enabled him to teach others how to play.”

Why these two stories?

One of my core beliefs is that strength is actually found and even perfected in weakness; that it’s your experience of darkness where you have the most light to give; that it’s suffering that carves out the capacity for empathy. All of this creates the ability to tune into the frequencies of the human condition that otherwise would never even register on your receiver.

What I’m saying is, that it’s within the content not found on your CV, but in your hidden humiliations and all the things that have not come easy to you, where your most resonant offerings for others are found. I believe this.

And you know that Leonard Cohen does: 

"Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in."

And so back to this introduction of me and my expertise.

I admit that I am an expert (and I say this without reservation) in fear. I am also familiar with the work of resistance. At the risk of bragging, I am a very high performer in self sabotage. What I’m saying is that I have a PhD in stuckness.

To be more straightforward: My oldest and longest struggle has been finding creative confidence. Too often I’ve been hamstrung by chronic self-doubt. Sometimes it’s easier to not show up in your own life, you know?

I once heard John O’Donohue say that the reason being in the natural world is so healing for us humans is because we are surrounded by creatures who do not struggle with being themselves.

Identity is only a challenge for humans. Dogs, tulips, rocks, electrons, elephants, moss, and amoebas, do not seem to be tempted to be something other than what they are.

Humans, on the other hand, well, we choose, we act, we have the dangerous capability to become successful doing and being things that are not aligned with who we are.

Being and becoming seem especially difficult for humans. As Miles Davis says, “Man, sometimes it takes you a long time to sound like yourself.”

The two stories shared above contain the dual verbs that animate my work: moving and becoming.

I’ve had to learn how to keep moving when scared, how to build a capacity for creative resilience (that seems to always be leaking), and how to turn down the volume on my inner critic while turning up the volume on my inner advocate.

The themes that I am the most passionate about are the very ones I’ve had to work so hard to cultivate in my own life: building creative capacity, unblocking decision making process, aligning values, living out of a core vision, and making change tangible.

What I most want to see in the world is people and organizations become more of who they already are.

Which has informed the mission statement for Unstucking, my one-man coaching and facilitation practice:

Seeing people and organizations grow their creative capacity to transform themselves, becoming more of who they are so that they can create more of what the world needs.

I’ve learned a lot about what stalls and short circuits change, as well as how to change. I’m learning, alongside my wildly diverse clients—in their various ages, stages, industries, and sectors—how to actually do what Dolly Parton says: “Find out who you are and do it on purpose.”