I just finished my last (for now) life coaching session with Lauree. It wasn’t the last one because I’m done. Hardly! It was the last one because next week we start paying out of pocket for Dylan’s food therapy because health insurance companies don’t buy into sensory processing disorder as a diagnosis. Boo.
I’m grateful I had the opportunity to work with a life coach, and frankly, I think the world would be a better place if everyone spent a little bit more time working on themselves as human beings. Lauree has helped me navigate my journey as a writer and blogger (and maybe someday a book writer?), but more than that, she’s helped me navigate my journey as a person.
One of the most important lessons I’ve learned through the coaching process is to (try to) stop worrying about where I want to be, where I think I should be, where I don’t want to be, or where I’m afraid to be and just be where I am.
Here’s where I am:
I have writer’s block. But I’m writing through it.
I’m disappointed. My life coaching sessions have been a gift, and I’m sad to end them, even if just temporarily.
I’m tired. Of jet lag. Of bed wetting. Of laundry. Of trying to put Riley to sleep in his bed each night and failing miserably. Speaking of which…
I’m drained. I spent an hour and a half trying to get him to sleep last night only to give up and let him fall asleep in my bed. Again.
I’m forgetful. I walk into rooms and can’t remember why. Yesterday, I forgot that Dylan had a swimming lesson after camp.
I’m afraid. Dylan has met almost all of his sensory goals at OT (besides food), and his therapist wants to release him, but I’m not ready to let go.
I’m anxious. In the next month, I need to make appointments with my dentist, gynecologist, gastroenterologist (colonoscopy!), and neurologist.
I’m nervous. Change is coming. In a few weeks, we’ll have a new schedule, a new therapist, a new school, new teachers, and new friends.
I’m searching. For my sense of humor and the strength to know this too shall pass.
I’m leaping. And looking for the net.
I’m taking a walk. Right now. Thanks for listening.
Where are you?
One response to “Where I Am”
Humor can often be the best medication – laughing. Keep on smiling, walking and leaping. Everything comes into place one day at a time 🙂