Dear reader, thank you for letting me land in your inbox after several months. This is a meditation on cycles, natural rhythms, practice and completion.
So, first this space. I wrapped up my newsletter in December with the full intention of writing on for January…then January came and went…then February…and here we are. Perhaps you’ve had a similar experience. You were so ready to do something! Exclamation point ready! And then, little by little or perhaps in a loud gush, the wind went out of your sails and you found yourself adrift. And as you floated along, maybe doubt started to creep in, settle inside of you like it belonged there. And maybe you started to believe it just a little, found it kind of comforting in a weird way…one less thing to do! One less reason to be vulnerable! Other projects arose to be tackled. This thing that you had been doing like clockwork now felt less timely. Who wants to read this anyway?
Oh, are we still talking about you?
And now, the other stuff that’s been going on. I basically dropped most things in the last three months to complete my coaching program and turn in my final for certification. And work full time in a position where I am implementing something that’s never been done before in my district. And parent and partner and friend. And. And.
But, I’m here to talk about practice and completion. During my coaching program, my teacher Richard would say near the end of each in-person weekend , “How are you with completion?” He would then go on to give examples of what people tend to do - check out (emotionally) early, hang on too tightly and stick around long after it was time to go, things like that. He would also share his personal shaping around his own rhythm of action as an invitation for us to reflect on our own.
How am I with completion, Richard? Not good, Richard. Not. Good.
After enough therapy and personal development work, it was easy enough to identify the shaping. Orphan girl bounced around from home to home and school to school for most of her formative years? Gen Xer raised with not a lot of support in, well anything, related to school work or life? Rewarded for good grades and performance but also shamed when she did typical kid stuff? Artsy kid who loved to write and draw and read but struggled in math and anything that required logic and reasoning and focus? All of this, and I’m sure a whole lot more, helped create some pretty automatic responses in me that have made it very challenging to complete just about anything.
During the first couple of in-person weekends, I would find myself not being to hold the intensity of what we were doing the whole time. It would reveal itself in not wanting to coach in front of others (which was requirement and necessary to my learning) during the final hours of our weekend because I didn’t want to seem messy or I would start to focus on work, family, anything besides the task at hand and be less present with my cohort mates.
As they say, wherever you go there you are.
I finished the “school” part of my coaching program in May of last year, and we were told we had 6 months to complete the rest of the requirements - finish our practice coaching hours, mentor coaching, and submit videos for assessment and then a final. In May, I was like “Boom! Got this!” November felt possible.
Dear reader, I did not have it. Yet.
Over the next six months, I did a bunch of coaching but failed to record my sessions consistently. Frankly, I hated looking at myself and would make excuses not to do it. Hard to complete something if you can’t do the thing you need to do to complete, right? I had mentor coaching sessions with my coach where I cried and felt into all the pain of not feeling supported; I affirmed and tended to the shape of what felt like the child version of myself who always felt left alone to do hard things. So. Many. Feelings. I complained about the process. I blamed capitalism. I blamed my coach for not helping me enough, and then got mad when I thought she was coddling me and not being truthful. And of course I blamed myself for not being able to just do the thing and not make it some BIG FUCKING THING all the time.
And then something shifted. So what shifted? Honestly, I started to get tired of my own shit. Do you know what I’m talking about? The same old pattern again and again? I cannot tell you what day it was, but I know that it happened sneakily. I started to soften towards myself, just as I was supporting clients in doing in their own lives. I was listening to people and reading people who I respected saying, “keep going. Your work matters.”
And I decided to be curious about what was happening instead of being an asshole to myself.
If I were to let this process unfold in my own time, in my own rhythm, what might be possible? Instead of it being this hard-fought thing completed under duress, what if I just let it arrive in my own time?
I sat down and felt into a new declaration:
I am a commitment to welcoming my coaching certification with ease and rigor for the sake of completion and joy.
(I might have shared a little bit about declarations in this space previously, but in somatics the declaration is a commitment to a desired future, one that is meaningful to us. We say “I am a commitment” instead of “I am committed to…” to convey embodiment of the declaration. If you haven’t tried it like this, I encourage you to turn one of your commitments into an “I am” statement. See how it feels!)
I committed to recording, watching and assessing all my sessions no matter how the session went. I activated a support system — good friends who had gone through this process as well as my mentor coach who, once I was a little easier on myself, I started to really feel like was on my side. Each session got a little easier to watch, and I was surprised by my growth.
I also identified some intentional practice to support me in getting better at completion.
As part of this practice, I started to be more present to experiences that I care about that would have a beginning, middle and end. Awakening energy? Not a problem. I am one of those people who gets really excited about things and wants to do it all. Discernment will probably always be something I have to work with because when I’m starting something I feel like everything is possible and I will have infinite energy to complete. I am full of ideas, I am buying all the books, I am ready to do it all.
When the energy starts to increase and I’m moving towards containment —organizing all that energy into a thing, a project, my coaching final — things have had a tendency to go a little sideways. Vulnerability is activated. Some of the following tendencies I’ve noticed in myself: losing interest; leaving (in the past this was pretty bad, especially in relationships) or even ghosting people or projects; sabotaging through chaotic and messy behavior. I’m sure there are others but those are the big ones. All that awakening energy starts to either dissipate or go in the other direction, where I’m full of anxiety about the unknown, especially if the end doesn’t feel clear. I feel tender as I write this because I can think of times in the past where I did feel alone and didn’t know what to do or how to do something and couldn’t access a way to ask for help.
And since completion is the natural extension of containment, I’ve done a lot of harm to myself and others in the past because I lacked the awareness and skills to bow out gracefully or stay with the energy even as things feel uncertain and scary and finish the thing. Only after something was over could I (sometimes) do any reflection about how I could have maybe done things differently, gotten support, made it easier for myself, etc. As the months passed, I started to feel like I could hold that energy and finish my program with ease and rigor.
This practice proved surprising in different areas. I first started to notice when I was exercising, specifically doing rides on my stationary bike. I was all gung-ho until three quarters of the way through. As the intensity was mounting I would find myself starting to feel cranky and/or I would start with the negative self talk. Or my energy would be diverted into my phone (who the hell answers a text when they’re exercising? ME!) By the time I finished I was both physically and mentally exhausted. I resolved to keep the phone away from my bike, actually pay attention to Cody and Jen and the instructors and stay in it, and lo and behold little by little my rides started to feel better. Even, dare I say, good.
I also started to focus on my reading habits, making it an intentional practice to start and finish a book. I gave myself grace, but used the downtime before I fell asleep to read instead of scrolling. This led to me noticing how much of my screen time was from first thing in the morning and at the end of the evening. I managed to finish a few books since my last writing (recommendations at the end). I felt like the authors were cheering me on through their words. Everything felt connected. Two birds, one stone.
Other things waxed and waned. I meditated poorly most days. I practiced my centering, but I still lost my shit sometimes. I made some bad art. I went to the snow. I watched things that made me feel tender and open. I read my horoscope.
This is an imperfect and sometimes messy process. The rain just kept raining, and there were days that I was really wondering what I was doing in all aspects of my life. I stopped writing this newsletter because I started to feel like everybody had all the same ideas and my voice was more blah blah blah (a whole separate topic). But I stuck to my commitment to get my coaching final turned in when it felt ready, or at least ready enough. The biggest thing I started to feel into, with all this presence and patience for myself, is that I am still new at this and it’s not going to be perfect. Also, there is no perfect. It was safe for me to be a beginner.
I turned my final in at the beginning of February after a little bit of hand-wringing and a lot of “well, this is as good as it gets right now.” I felt, no feel, good about the work I’m doing and let this be just one step on a long journey.
I received confirmation that I passed at the beginning of March, almost two years to the day after I started this journey. It ended quietly and on time, the way my middle son entered the world. I let myself feel proud of myself (something else that feels new) and shared the news with folks I care about. They had all played a part in this journey. You, reading this newsletter, played a part in the journey. So thank you. And see you next month.
Antonia
P.S. Sharing links to the good stuff is my favorite part. Please comment with other recommendations or any thoughts, feelings on the list this month!
Some Inspiration, All Oriented Towards Practice, Awe-fulness and Creativity
Liberated to the Bone: Histories. Bodies. Futures by Susan Raffo
Awe - The New Science of Everyday Wonder and How It Can Transform Your Life
Coaching Information: Antonia Slagle
IG: @womforeveryone
I love this account of your process so much. It also leaves me in awe of what goes on inside us that at times others have no clue about (I was with you through much of this and some was news to me)! Makes me love you and people even more. For all of the oniony layers and magic going on inside… thanks as always for your vulnerability and humor and truth telling. It’s inspiring. 😘❤️
There she is! Love the reminder about having grace and patience with oneself. 💙 I plan to read Tomorrow, tomorrow and tomorrow. 👍🏽