In and out of thoughts

 
In my neighborhood

In my neighborhood

 
 

The other day I had a session with a client that turned into a perfect learning moment.

We started off as we usually do, and I do with all my clients, by wobbling around for a bit, then settling down, calming our heads and finally dropping down into our hearts and into the present moment. From there it flows and insights starts to spark and she sees new ideas and moves into creativity.

Good work, we’re happy.

Then her son comes in the room.

This is part of the New World. We have all encountered this, one way or the other. I have not, though, until now been in a client session 1-to-1 when this personal space steps in to the professional.

Very interesting to notice what happened.

Her beautiful baby boy, about three years old, wants his mum. That’s the hard fact of the situation. She distracts him with the hole puncher, some crayons and papers, appeals to him, lure with raisins that would be found in the kitchen if he’d run out and look, negotiates with both him and the father, hugs him, let him speak to me for a bit, holds him in her lap and asks him to close the door, the three or four times he actually leaves.

All of the above is what would be expected when a small child is present. Nothing strange about that.

What we experienced, me and my client, is much more interesting. At no time did we break our connection. Sometimes a pause happened, this or that distraction was handled by my client and our conversation took a break for a few moments. But then we kept moving on. Our exploration kept on its tracks. Our train of thought and the deep feeling och being with each other was intact, through it all.

This to me is a beautiful metaphor of the very thing me and my client were investigating, in life and business: thoughts like “I need to…”, “I must…”, “What if…” leads to feelings of pressure, stress and discouragement. When those thoughts stand on the floor of our own mental office, they have a tendency to not at all be sweet, precious and full of love, like that little boy. However they represent about the same amount of noice, demands our full attention and leaves us with an acute sense of urgency. And they point in different directions and want us to look in all, at the same time. Which then leads to feelings of more pressure and stress.

The point being: If we don’t listen so closely to what the thoughts say we should do, we can use all the parts of us that are not occupied to continue whatever task we have at hand.

My client held her child with one arm and could use the other for the notes she scribbled down. Maybe this session was affected to some extent, but not nearly as much as it could have been if she had turned all her attention to her son and given up on our call.

Why was this a learning moment for me? What did I have to deal with? Well, in a walk-the-talk kind of way. My mind immediately knocked on my internal office door and said “This is a nuisance. Why did we not postpone this meeting when we knew her son would be home? How the heck can I give value to my client when this happens?” and so on. When I noticed those thoughts, I saw that thew definitely would stand in our way if I would let them. So I kind of just ignored them and put back my inner seeing on her. And saw that our thing, our bubble of joyful exploring was still there. And we could rest in there.

Love

/Johanna