EMBODY Coaching Program
Nine Months, 18 sessions
The EMBODY program includes both the ATTUNE and INTEGRATE programs and allows the experience to deepen over a nine-month period. This coaching program is extensive, customized and offers clients a path to deep and sustainable change. The relationship that we develop of these nine months will really help to get to the core of what is standing in your way, and replace it with a new way that helps you to feel much more successful. This program is all about embodiment.
- A custom-designed program to help you achieve the results you seek.
- A set of three developmental objectives that are informed by an in-depth assessment of your unique way.
- Bi-monthly sessions (as well as email 'check ins' as required).
- Personalized practice to help build 'muscles' needed to be successful and achieve results.
- Accountability and support to progress through the coaching program and reach your goals.
Note: Sessions can be in person (Calgary), or via Skype or Zoom.
Often when I share with others that I help people to slow down and become more intentional in their day-to-day life, I hear a response that sounds something like this:
“I would love to slow down, but I can’t. There is really no time or space in my life for me to take the time I need.”
I get it. Life is busy. Raising kids, running a household, maintaining one’s health, being a good friend, excelling at work—they all take time, focus and energy and it can feel like we don’t have any control over the demands placed on us. But the truth is, regardless of how busy our life is, each of us has the power to make an intentional and deliberate choice about how we approach it.
We all have the power to choose.
So, if you are currently finding your life busy, overwhelming or exhausting, there is one important question you might want to ask yourself:
This past weekend, I spent the better part of a day sifting through antique shops in the vicinity of my new home on Vancouver Island. There is a kind of dampness on the coast that needles its way into your bones and on this particular day I felt a chill settle deep in my core. Yet, as soon as I opened the door of yet another antique store, I found myself drawn in by the warm invitation of the pieces on display. Almost instantaneously, and over and over again, I was transported by the well-worn items. These antique shops (well, all antique shops, for that matter) hold a level of magic and allure that is arresting for me. I am drawn to the nod of a slower and less complicated era where there was time to create with love and craftsmanship. My steps lighten, my voice quiets, and I embrace a curious reverence befitting of a sacred space.
Think back on your day yesterday. If you were to choose a word to describe its pace, what would it be? Frantic? Rushed? Hectic? A complete blur? (Okay, that is more than one word). Now, think back on your last week. Can you see a theme emerging in how your days are unfolding?
When I am caught up in the busyness or distractedness of life, a lot of shame bubbles up. Why am I not a better .............. (insert any of the following: friend, partner, coach, facilitator, business owner, sister, aunt, community member)? In all of the rush, it can feel like I am not enough, that I am somehow falling short or missing the mark in some or all areas of my life.
If you have lived on this planet long enough, it is likely you have days or moments that are as clear today as they were when they happened. One such memory for me was during my time at university in the 90s. I was in my second year, it was a spring morning and I was late for class. As I hurriedly wove my way around and through the other people walking to campus, I heard someone behind me shout out my name. I turned my head and found my friend Carolyn waving. In that moment I realized, in my rush, I had sped right past her on the sidewalk without even a glimmer of recognition. I gave her a big smile and a curt wave and turned around like a woman on a mission.
“Sorry, no time for a chat. I need to get to class,” I shouted into the air, “but let’s visit soon!”
I am a professional Integral Coach.
I work with clients to help them make the shift from where they are, to where they want to be.
I am also a visual facilitator.
As a visual facilitator, I use large sheets of paper to help individuals and groups move through a process. I do this work in offices (strategic planning, visioning), at schools, and on one-on-one retreats in beautiful places like Banff (personal/professional visioning).
It was not until I found myself recovering from adrenal fatigue that I started to realize how important food is in supporting optimal health and wellbeing. Before that, if you had asked me, I would have told you that I was a healthy eater (and I was…mostly). I ate sustainably as much as I could, I steered clear of processed foods and tried my best to choose foods that were nutritious. Yet, there I was, sitting in a naturopath’s office and listening to the results from a myriad of tests that all seemed to confirm that my body was depleted, that I was not adequately absorbing the nutrients in my food.
“You need to not only focus on what you put into your body”, she said to me, “but you need to pay attention to how you put food into your body”.
In late August I headed back home, along with my three siblings, to surprise my father for his 80th birthday. It was a surprise that lacked all the regular fan fair. Spouses and grandchildren were left behind (in the various provinces and states they call home). There were no balloons, no presents and not even a cake. The gift was our presence with each other; time spent together, live and in the flesh. For three days, we simply went about living together. We chatted over coffee, went for walks, ate good food and visited some of the local attractions in our home town (fish derby, winery, local park). It was just the six of us for the first time in more than 25 years, and this fact alone was enough to captivate all of us.
Do you ever feel like you are racing against the clock? Have you ever find yourself bargaining with the universe, asking for another hour or two in the day? I know I certainly have, many times over. The truth is we have become a society that races against the clock. There are signs on the freeway that tell us how long it will take to get to the next intersection. We find ourselves staying late at work because we were unable to get any ‘real work’ done during business hours. The end result is that we are more depleted, exhausted and overwhelmed than ever before. We have more to do, and less time to do it in. In many ways, our modern society is at a crisis point, a time in human history that is calling (even begging) for a new paradigm—a new way of tapping into a more holistic and intentional approach to the world of work.
Last week, I headed out into the Canadian backcountry for a few days of hiking, camping and detoxing (from technology, that is). Our packs were loaded with everything we would need for a few days, and we headed up the trail to a series of lakes that would be our final destination. An hour into the hike, and after a brief discussion about the benefits of walking barefoot, our hiking shoes were off and we found ourselves navigating the trail barefoot (with fully loaded backpacks, I might add).
Now I must admit, when it was first suggested that we hike barefoot, all I could think about were the potential risks. I am, after all, a North American and former outdoor educator who is used to mitigating risk in the outdoors with protection and protocol.
In 1997, I spent 6 months living in Greece and working as a bartender at a British resort on the island of Corfu. The resort, perched on the side of the Ionian Sea, was a short swim from the villa that we lived in and the food we ate often came straight from the sea. The days on this island were sunny, hot and so beautifully slow. Although I didn’t really appreciate it at the time, it felt as if no one on the island was in a rush – not at the resort, nor the neighbouring village, or even the city of Corfu. It was the kind of place where waiting was commonplace; things unapologetically took time.
Life on the island was slow, and so were we.