Wading into the ocean

Self-reliance or self-sabotage?

Hey readers, Welcome to Rhythm & Rec. Each week I’m sharing a personal insight or an insight a coaching client had with me, wrapped up in a lesson you can learn from too. This week it’s a personal insight about an area of my life I didn’t realise I was keeping at arms length. I hope you get something out if it, I had a lot of fun writing it. -Kyle

I want to share with you a huge insight I had last week.

An insight into a behaviour that I think has been lurking in the back of my mind, quietly calling the shots for some time. Like a backseat driver who sounds so confident that you listen to them while they direct you the long way round.

It’s caused me a lot of confusion as I didn’t realise it was there. I kept wondering why things that should feel simple, felt like putting together a jigsaw puzzle upside down.

First, I’ll go into how it’s been showing up, then share with you it’s name, and finally, how I know what to do next.

Total Confusion

You may remember that for the past 6 weeks or so, I’ve made a commitment to explore what coaching other’s full-time might look like.

This is a very different business model to my main business, Bootcamp Ideas.

Working on Bootcamp Ideas looks like making a coffee, turning on my computer and then planning out content, creating content, making little offers to invite people to join my newsletter, writing the newsletter, making podcasts, editing videos, creating programs, etc.

It’s fairly solitary work. I used to collaborate more but there aren’t as many creators in that space as there used to be (although, that could just be ‘the voice’ as I’ll share soon).

So switching to a coaching business has been really disorienting.

Work now looks like grabbing a coffee, turning on my computer but then reaching out to people I haven’t spoken to in a while, building personal connections, having Zoom calls, messaging friends, responding to newsletters and finding ways to demonstrate my coaching skills in public.

It seems simple on the surface, but there has still been a lot of resistance:

• Feeling like an imposter

• Feeling hurt when someone ghosts me

• Feeling like I don’t have anything worthwhile to share

• Putting a lot of pressure on every interaction

• And just generally doubting myself

At first I put this down to the all being something new in my life. A change in my identity that I’d need time to adjust to.

But then, this resistance kept sticking around.

And last week, I realised what was going on. It was an old friend of mine showing up in a new way.

The Controlling Connector

A few years ago I hired as my coach (a fantastic human btw) and one of the exercises we did together was to name some of the shadow-y parts of my personality.

One such part we dubbed ‘The Controller Connector’.

The Controlling Connector loves connecting with other people, but always on his terms. He gets peeved if someone is running late. He gets hurt and defensive when his vulnerability isn’t reciprocated. He dismisses those that don’t live up to his high standards.

He tries desperately to protect me.

But, he’s actually holding me back.

You see, the insight I had wasn’t just that old CC was showing up, the insight was that I’ve been trying to grow this coaching business while controlling every connection I make with someone else.

I’ve been standing guard instead of surrendering. I’ve been armouring up instead of being truly vulnerable. I’ve been trying to have all the answers instead of listening.

And what’s been most helpful in trying to work out what to do about this, is another area of my life that I realise I do the same thing.

Being Held By The Ocean

Nearly 8 years ago, my wife and I packed up our 2-bedroom unit in a busy area of Melbourne and moved everything 2 hours away to the coast.

But despite being surrounded by beaches, I often baulk at the idea of going for a swim.

I’ll get sandy. I’ll get salty. I’ll cool down while I’m in there but then I’ll just get hot again. The water is too cold. What about sharks? What about stingrays? What about jellyfish? I didn’t bring my bodyboard. I didn’t bring my flippers.

But then I get in the water and something magic happens:

The water holds me.

I catch waves. I hold my breath. I lay on my back eyes closed and float. I frolic like a seal. My kids hang onto my shoulders and I tow them around.

(My wife watches from the shore and rolls her eyes having just heard me complain for 15 minutes and knowing that I’d love it once I got in.)

All my fears are forgotten (except when a stray piece of seaweed brushes my calf, followed by a moment of panic and relief). And I’m just there, in the moment. At peace.

This feels exactly like what I’m going through now.

I’m still on the beach, worried if the water will be too cold or if big set will come through and dunk me or if I’ll piss off that guy surfing by being in the wrong spot.

It’s time to dive in and remember something:

I actually love it here.