I take a gulp and look down at my check book. It has been siting on my desk for days now, taunting me in my indecision. The words of the admission officer still ring in my ear: "When you put a definitive step of action and commitment in place, the universe conspires to make it possible." In bright blue ink, I have written eleven-thousand-dollars in the square box on the right of the check. It is the largest single check I have written up to this point, and a good portion of t
"We'd like to offer you the position." The phone line goes silent and I take a big gulp of air. The silence crackles with expectation, and the pause seems to stretch out for an eternity. This is exactly where a younger Gia would rush in with a thousand grateful expressions - eager to please, I would have assured them I was thrilled about the offer, and accepted on the spot. This time, with a monumental effort in self restraint, I force my mouth to move slowly. "That's fantast
Lately I have been having a persistent thought: Am I doing enough? Is the work of coaching, of leading individuals and groups towards their own self-awareness and change, enough? In a world where there seems to be a million causes and calls to action outside ourselves, how can we justify turning inward and doing the courageous work of coaching, when what might be needed now is direct action in the world? In Brene Brown's excellent new book, Dare to Lead, she answers the quest
I am sitting on a cushion flanked by two strangers - discreetly avoiding any direct contact with the naked bodies around me - while trying to listen intently as they take turns sharing things that get in the way of our intimacy. I have just returned from IntimacyFest, three days in the California desert connecting with thirty-five strangers in an attempt to break the physical and mental barriers that keep us from the thing we most crave: human connection. Pushed past the limi
I have recently come to understand that my life purpose is to walk the invisible bridge to make it safe for others to follow.
But what does it mean to walk the invisible bridge?
To walk the invisible bridge means to go forward, even if you would rather hang back and blend into the crowd. To walk into the unknown, trusting that the net will appear; To speak out and step forth, even when the path looks uncertain and the territory hostile. This has not always been my story. As
I am standing at the top of a 30-foot wooden pole, strapped into a harness, after having just climbed a dozen metal staples and hoisted myself onto the 10 inch wooden disc to balance at the top. Ten minutes earlier the prospect of this climb seemed impossible; and now that I've completed it, returning to the ground is the last thing on my mind. Have you ever been so scared that your body kicks into auto pilot, somehow putting one foot in front of the other to march you forwar
"I had to google it," a client confessed to me on the phone last week. "I mean, I just want to make the most of these sessions, and I always feel like I'm picking the wrong topic." While reassuring her that no topic could ever be wrong, I realized that offering some guidelines for choosing a good coaching topic might be useful for my clients and non-clients alike. Unlike a prescribed, one-size-fits-all self-help program, co-active coaching asks the client to name her own topi