Arrow

A few newsletters back, I mentioned that I had obtained my PCC (Professional Certified Coach) through the International Coaching Federation (aka the Grand Poobahs).  A few weeks after taking and passing the exam, a colleague whom I met through my previous coaching certification process asked how it felt to be PCC Certified.  I realized that I hadn’t actually taken a moment to recognize the magnitude of this step.  I had studied, and prepped, and spoken with multiple colleagues about their exam experiences – and coached 500 hours – but once the exam was over, I pretty much moved on.  Don’t get me wrong, I was greatly relieved when the test administrator handed me the results and gave me a wink, but I quickly got on with the day and life in general.  I boarded the L and took off  to meet my husband and son at a White Sox game and eat hotdogs.  Celebratory in a way, but also something we had already planned to do.  Life wasn’t stopping for me to take in this milestone.  

I gave myself the writing prompt of, “what does it mean to be PCC certified” and finally sat down with my thoughts.  Initially, I thought, “Good for me, I worked for this and I had amazing people support me along the way” – all true, but also pretty blah.  What was different for me between becoming ACC certified and becoming PCC certified?  A lot more coaching hours, more confidence in my coaching, probably more ease with it all.  There’s credibility, of course, for those who keep track of this sort of thing, I was seen as a more advanced coach with my PCC.  And there was the internal credibility, I had completed enough hours, studied, practiced, and passed the PCC exam. So I asked myself, what changed between the Friday before I took the exam and the Monday after.  Nothing?  I was the same coach I had been, I hadn’t gained more hours or more skills since passing the exam.   But all of that was feeling pretty…blah.  

Then it hit me: the difference was that I didn’t have to do the PCC – and I definitely didn’t need to do it now.  When I took the ACC, I was on a timeline coming out of my coursework and I was with an amazing cohort (shout out to the amazing Doyle Pod!) who were all working towards the same goal within the same timeline.  Getting my ACC was the next logical step in a timeline prescribed to me by others.  The difference this time was that nobody told me I needed to get my PCC, there was no set timeline, and, in fact, I had another year plus until I needed to renew my ACC and then possibly move up to PCC.  I chose now, I chose to do “the big scary thing”, I chose to put myself out there and get a little uncomfortable, possibly fail, but I chose to try.  I also chose to believe in myself and invest in myself.     

With this realization, I began to do a familiar exercise of taking “inventory” of how I’ve grown over the past few years.  I’ve written several blogs about my journey, and, in one of my very first blogs, I wrote about the song “There Was a Dream” by the Avett Brothers.  The lyrics of demanding that someone free the bird in the cage helped me free myself.  Arrow, by The Head and the Heart, feels like a follow-up song for me.  Now that I’m free, how do I become my own arrow and my own home?  

I am my own arrow I am my own home

Looking back over the past few years, I often think I’m a different person than I was in 2019.  But, I’m not sure that’s true.  It’s true that I’ve grown and changed, but I think the person I was for a while was more a persona than my true self.  In many ways, “freeing myself” and becoming “my own arrow” are ways of coming back to myself, coming back home.  I’ve shed – and continue to shed – the persona of being scared and small.  The real me is a much more fun and interesting person to be (and probably to be around).  

My dad used to say, “Beth-Charlotte, there’s a fine line between stupidity and bravery.”  As much as it pains me to say it, he’s right.  But the reason he used to say this to me was because I was always dancing between the two.  As a child, I danced and twirled.  As a teenager, I pushed boundaries and started to carve my own path.  As a young adult, I packed up my car and moved to Mississippi.  As a newly married woman, I continued to carve out new paths that worked for my little family.  In many ways, I was brave.  I did the difficult things.  Even if they just felt brave and difficult to me, I didn’t shy away from them.  Then something changed – it doesn’t really matter what changed, because there were many, many factors, and really, right now, they aren’t important – they are part of the old story.  What’s important is that I found my way back to myself.  “I became my own arrow.”

The real me, my true self, the me who twirls and carves out paths that fit the needs of her and her family – while hopefully making the world a little better than she found it – this person is freer, bolder, laughs more fully, and feels more comfortable in her own skin.  Deep down, when I truly think about what getting my PCC means to me, it feels like maybe the last piece to shed of that person – or persona.  I want to live in freedom of doubt and self-inflicted fear.  I want to live out loud, not quietly in some shadows.  I want to be me, to the fullest, as best as I can.  I want to live my truth, and my truth is that I can do hard things.   

I can say “I want” all day long, but what’s important is that I choose to take actions that keep me on my path and move me forward and allow me to grow.  And that’s what obtaining my PCC right now means to me.  That I chose myself – not in a selfish way, but in a brave way.  

Journal Prompts

• What song speaks to the journey you are on and why?

• What’s a big scary thing you need to do, and what’s one step you can take towards that?

• Write a letter to your 8 year old self, what are you excited to tell him / her, what are you less excited to share?