At the recent Special Person’s Day at my twins’ Solomon Schechter school, my mother-in-law and aunt sat down with the kids to work with them on the project of the morning: drafting the “10 Commandments” of our family. Based on their understanding that the 10 Commandments provided a rule book – a behavioral code of conduct – 11 year old Jacob and Sophie got to work:
A month after we met, my future husband Michael and I took our first camping vacation near New Hope, PA. The flower, the trees and yes, the romance, were all in full bloom. We walked the quaint town's shop-lined streets, hiked some local mountains (fine, hills) and told one another our dreams for the future.
That is, until suddenly and without warning, I became utterly uncommunicative.
When I was in my early twenties, I was feeling confused about my career path, I had suffered a bad romantic breakup, and I was, in general, feeling lost. While Ben and Jerry were my usual go-to life coaches (big on quick, feel-good approaches, limited in their long-range impact planning), I decided to try an out-of-the-box, out of this world tactic: I went to see a psychic.
As a professional coach, I tend to ask my clients more questions than give answers. As a Jewish coach, you have to imagine that the proportion of questions to answers is significantly out of whack. But it works – for me, and for my clients. It works because I believe that, more often than not, we have the creativity, resourcefulness and reserves we need to figure out what we need, and even how to get there. (Do I ever just give advice? What do you think? Sorry – old habits die hard.