I’ll probably get struck off the coaching register for saying this but here it is:
You can’t have everything.
And before you switch off, thinking you don’t want to hear that negative message, let me explain what I mean.
In coaching I always try to establish a goal: an overall goal which describes what you are looking to change in your life, and a goal for each session.
It’s normal practice to encourage big, bold goals: no limiting thoughts allowed. The whole coaching philosophy is that you can achieve whatever you want. And that you are uniquely creative and talented to bring your dreams to reality in a way that no one else can match.
It’s also quite fashionable to think in terms of getting noticed: published, discovered, televised, filmed, scouted, quoted, snuggled up on the couch with this year’s celebrity interviewer.
And why not?
Simply this. Everything we achieve comes at the expense of something else. And sometimes we discover that we’re not prepared to give that ‘something else’ up. Our happiness may be more closely aligned to the smaller goals than the large ones.
At best, this can be the reason you are quite happy plodding along in your quiet and peaceful world, rarely giving a thought to fame and fortune and letting any ideas of greatness slip through your fingers, safe in the knowledge that most Oscar-winning actresses haven’t had a square meal for about 4 years.
At worst this legitimate incapacity to leave your comfort zone can set you up for a lifetime of ”coulda, shoulda, woulda”, where you constantly dream of having more, being more and achieving more but never quite make any of it happen. It can lead to feelings of disappointment and envy that make you believe that the life you have chosen (did you hear that bit about chosen?) is somehow less than the life you deserve.
This idea of the anonymous but fulfilled life came to my attention in many ways last week but never so powerfully as when, over an all-too-rare dinner with a great friend, we were discussing Philip Larkin’s poems and she showed me the one he wrote for Kingsley Amis’s new-born daughter.
He wished that she be ‘ordinary’.
‘In fact,’ he said, ‘may you be dull –
If that is what a skilled,
Vigilant, flexible,
Unemphasised, enthralled
Catching of happiness is called.’
Most of us have set up our lives intelligently and thoughtfully to optimise the resources available to us. We may not have achieved nirvana but we have created a very skillful collage out of the luck, opportunities and talents that have crossed our path.
There is great value in learning to live with what we have.
Perhaps more than there is in leaving it behind.
Maybe the secret is to change your mind, rather than change your life?