There’s a country song, about trucks of course, that reminds me of clients.
I want to buy your truck
I don’t like what I’m doing
I wanna give it up
I like the way that it shines
Hey I’m really stuck
In this life of mine
I want to buy your truck
One of the exercises I do with clients in my Your Next Pursuit program is to talk about their options. All their options, the bad ones and the half-baked ones as well as the more obvious or realistic ones.
Why smart people run out of options
People don’t come to me when they have identified a perfect option. They come to me when they either feel that they have NO options or that all the options are risky or impossible. Or because they’ve lost faith in their own ability to discern the best option, and want to rebuild their shaky conviction about what they actually want next.
The daydreams clients actually tell me about
The work we do together is to pull out facts from assumptions, and realistic alternatives from fantastical daydreams. Here are some of the ideas clients tell me they find themselves daydreaming about.
“I wish I could just assemble Ikea furniture all day.”
“Sometimes I dream about being a secretary. 9 – 5, then you’re home.”
“If I were a social worker, I’d be so much happier.”
“I’d like to deliver cars. You know, drive a car someone’s bought from one part of the country to another part.”
“I think about cutting flowers. Does anyone need someone to cut flowers? I’ll do that!”
These are tech people, attorneys, consultants, corporate trainers. Often they are in roles that they’ve sacrificed a great deal to attain, and for which others envy them. Neither they nor I think they’re likely to assemble Ikea furniture. Usually. I do have one client who bought a window washing business and now works alongside his one employee, and is happier than I’ve ever seen him. But that was a highly analytical decision, based on a deep understanding of what he valued most, not an impulsive escape plan.
What the fantasy is really about
As a coach, I take these fantasies seriously. Not literally, but seriously. What is the stressor underneath their current situation that cutting flowers would solve? What need does it answer? What satisfaction does it bring that they are missing now?
The client examples above revealed some longings that became part of an individualized mission brief that we built together.
Assembling furniture —-> It’s nice to complete projects with a clear outcome.
Secretary —-> A role with predictable time off and boundaries that don’t have to be re-negotiated all the time.
Social worker —-> Dealing with unhappiness directly, instead of carrying the emotional burdens of colleagues wounded by a toxic corporate environment and interpersonal meanness.
Car delivery —-> Measurable movement and progress.
Cutting flowers —-> Proximity to beauty, and the chance to please others.
Now we’re getting somewhere.
Why nobody says these out loud
For most clients, they haven’t had a place to talk about these daydreams. You don’t tell the senior partner that you’d like to have a flower stand. It’s private, it’s silly, it’s unrealistic, so it flits past and the longing underneath doesn’t get named. A good coach gives you language to translate a daydream into real criteria for stronger decisions.
The guy in the song doesn’t want a truck. He wants an escape, and the truck is the nearest thing he can see.
If you have a truck of your own, or a flower stand, or an allen wrench you’d like to use more often, there’s something it’s trying to tell you. I can help you find the specific need underneath, and turn it into criteria you can act on.
It starts with a strategy call. I’ll ask you some questions about your situation, and we’ll figure out together whether it’s the kind of thing I can help with. Here’s the link to book yours.
