When my youngest graduated high school nearly four years ago, I set out to complete a dream that had already been twenty-years-in-the-making. When she was one-year-old and my life underwent a monumental change, I decided to become a Life Coach.
I'd been through such a life-altering experience that I knew I could help others in the same situation. And coaching has always been such an innate part of me; I just didn't have the formal training, nor the know-how to begin a business at that time.
And then, life happened. And my dream was set aside.
But upon my daughter's graduation two decades later, I knew it was time to dust off that old wish and just jump into it.
I quit my nursing job and sought out training.
People around me thought I was nuts.
But I felt where my heart was leading me, and it wasn't found in the halls of hospitals anymore.
By the end of the following year, I was a full-fledged life coach, but I was also still not making much money, and my savings account was quickly being drained.
Uh-oh.
I realized that my business would take longer to set up and make sustainable, so I found another nursing job to cover the bills for a while.
Friends and family sighed with relief.
But my soul started balking.
Nursing was not what my soul was longing for anymore; I'd had a good run spanning almost three decades, but it was time to pursue my new passion.
(Not surprisingly, the new nursing job didn't last long, either).
So I kept at coaching while my friends and family held their breath. At that point, even I began doubting my ability to become a life coach with a full-time clientele.
Even I began to think I was nuts.
It was taking much longer than I'd anticipated, it was draining my savings and retirement accounts, and I was losing faith that it would ever happen.
But I kept at it because I was following what made my soul happy: I hosted workshops; I wrote blogs and newsletters; I continued my weekly column; I spoke on the radio; and I kept working with clients.
And ever so slowly, somewhere along the way, it began to take shape. It's not yet a full-time gig, but that's okay. I'm happy; fulfilled; proud.
I continue to feed my true self, even on the days when it doesn't feel like a safe bet, because I trust that it will one day become what I've envisioned all along.
What about you?
What work would you do that feeds your true self, even if it's not a safe bet, even if it's like a crazy risk, even if everyone in your life tells you you're wrong or bad or crazy?
Much love,