I picked up the phone and called. I didn’t know what I was doing. What did I know about being a life coach? But by the end of that call, I wasn’t just interested—I was hoping they would accept me. There was a written test, an interview, and a process. But as I spoke, I realized something profound: I had been a life coach all along. I had spent my life trying to save people—friends, family, even strangers. I had led teams, managed businesses, mentored others. I had been the go-to person when someone was in crisis. I just hadn’t known there was a name for it. I became a Certified DreamBuilder Coach, a John Maxwell Business and Leadership Coach, and a Life Mastery Consultant. And slowly, the pieces of my life began to come full circle. One of those pieces was a dream I had long buried: writing a book. I had always believed I couldn’t write. I would rewrite an email ten times before sending it. But then I took a class called Write a Book in a Weekend. I didn’t know what I would write about. My best friend—the same one who had brought me to Portland—told me to write about my life. Another friend, an author, gave me advice that stuck. Using the tools I had learned in my training—visioning, intention, and clarity—I began to write. I called them Crystalline Moments, those flashes of clarity that change everything. I wrote about mine, and then I interviewed others about theirs.
What I discovered was life-changing: every moment, no matter how painful or joyful, carries a gift. Every experience holds an opportunity. One morning, I sat down to write the introduction. I had already organized the interviews, labeling them with “a” for the pre-interview and “b” for my reflections afterward. I thought I’d just write the intro. But something took over. I wrote the entire book in a week.
Soon after, I was headed to Los Angeles for the final training and graduation from the Life Mastery program. On the last day, I was sitting at lunch, talking with another woman about my book. There were many empty tables, but ours had only one seat left. A woman approached and asked if she could join us. She listened intently as I spoke, then began asking questions—about my demographic, my cover design, my audience. I finally asked, “Are you a publisher? An editor? A book agent?” She smiled and said, “Take a picture of my name tag and Google me later.” I did. She had just left her role as Senior Vice President of Business Development at Sony. Her team had been responsible for ensuring that every project aligned perfectly with its audience. She had worked with some of the biggest names in the entertainment industry. A few days later, at 6:30 in the morning, she called me. “You had me in tears,” she said. “But your introduction and your story—you didn’t write those from your heart. The interviews were powerful, but your own story felt distant.”
Page 119
Made with FlippingBook flipbook maker