I’m hustling over to Starbucks in the Austin summer heat. The A/C inside makes me aware of how sweaty I am. The kind barista doesn’t mention the beads running down my forehead. I order and sit down at a table with outlet access. I know I’m going to be here for two hours - I might need to plug in.
For months, I’ve been telling myself I’m ready to grow my coaching business. I’ve been coaching now for almost 4 years. I love it. My clients love it. I want to do more of it!
I’m clear on what I want.
But I just keep thinking about it. Lots of thinking. Very little else.
This week, I decide it’s finally time to move from thinking into action toward my goal. I know what I need to do: I need to sit down regularly and connect with people in my network. That’s how I grew my coaching business in the first place. That’s what I need to do again if I want to grow it to the next level.
So I schedule two hours on Monday titled “Connection Time.” 12pm - 2pm.
Now it’s 11:59am on Monday. I just finished a coaching call I did while walking around in a park in our neighborhood. The call went a bit long, so I had to nearly run to Starbucks if I wanted to keep my word with myself and actually sit down by 12pm to begin my “Connection Time.”
I made it. I kept my word. I’m following through.
Except, two hours later, at the end of my Connection Time block, I look back at what I had accomplished… Zero connecting. I took lots of notes. I made lots of plans. I thought of great systems for connecting with people. I wrote down people’s names that I want to connect with.
But no actual connecting.
I found a dozen ways to feel like I was connecting, but that actually avoided doing the thing I came to do.
I scrolled back up to the top of my notes for the day and titled the day “Mostly Thought and Made Lists.”
It hurt. To be honest about how much resistance I have to what I want to do.
Better Juju
Now it’s the next day, Tuesday. And I’ve scheduled another two-hour time block for myself. “Connection Time.” I know what will happen if I leave myself to my usual devices. My usual vices. Avoiding with planning, preparing.
This time I’m going to a different coffee shop. Maybe it will have better juju. But as I walk there, I pull out my phone and press record on a voice memo. I start talking to myself. I remind myself why I’m doing this. I ask myself: why is this hard?
Some of the voice memo is just silence as I feel into my resistance. I name how the idea of connecting with people — telling them I’m looking to do more coaching — makes part of me feel scared. It feels vulnerable. Will it push people away? Will I be misunderstood? Will they judge me?
I spend a few minutes just feeling that. And then talking to that part of me. It feels tender. But also really good to look directly at this part that is often unconsciously controlling my actions. Leading me to avoid what I say I want to do. Just to see it. Understand it. Acknowledge it.
Then I begin to show that part of me how we can do this in a way that actually feels good. Or at least less dangerous to that part. We’re going to try connecting with people in a way that doesn’t push them away. That minimizes how much they might judge us. I remind myself how many wonderful friends I have who are actually encouraging me to do this. This won’t leave me the laughing stock of Austin.
I feel a bit silly talking to myself in a voice memo. And it’s also making me want to tear up and hug a tree. As I stop the recording, I feel energized, like I could run a marathon. Or at least half a mile.
I walk into the coffee shop and sit down for two hours. And this time I don’t just “Mostly Think and Make Lists.” This time, I text and call and email people. Friends I’m close to. Colleagues I haven’t talked to in a year. And sometimes I text because I want to avoid calling.
It still brings up feelings of fear. Feelings of cringe. Feelings of danger. Sometimes I drift off to avoid for 15 minutes. But then I get back to it.
I can be with these feelings. I can be with this part of me that feels this is too vulnerable, too dangerous, going to lead to me being alone and judged. I can be with that part, that feeling, that story. And I can guide it. It’s here — but not running the show anymore. I am.
Connection Time
Now, here I am the next Monday, writing this essay. I’m wondering if even writing this is a clever way of avoiding Connection Time. Maybe it is. Who knows the mysteries of our internal world. But I’m telling myself that my email list is a great way to connect with my network too. So here I am, leaning into the vulnerability, the fear… and trying to lead myself through my resistance, to align myself with who I want to be and where I want to go. By writing an email.
(Is this too meta? No, it’s perfectly meta. Because life isn’t life always meta?)
I’m learning that leading a business is really about leading ourselves. Through the resistance, through the clever ways we avoid what we know we need to do or who we want to be. And the best way to lead ourselves is through connection — connection with ourselves, our parts, our fears and stories and patterns. Trying to willpower or manually override our inner parts never works for me. At least not for more than 48 hours. But connection — understanding and caring for my parts and their fears and feelings, and leading them through that, helping them align with where we need to go — that actually creates movement. Not because the fear disappears, but because I’m no longer waiting for it to disappear before I act.
So now the question for my week: Based on my goals, what do I need to do this week? What in me is resisting this? How can I connect and lead that part of me?
If you're sitting with your own version of Connection Time this week — and want a thinking partner as you work through it — that's the kind of coaching I do with business owners and leaders. Schedule a coaching call here.
“Whether personal and emotional or practical business strategy, Brandon knew how to help me get un-stuck. He saw my own potential and was able to speak that into me in a way that I couldn’t receive from anyone else.”
- Levi Hanusch
