Changing my practice from therapy to coaching and personal growth counseling is almost, very nearly, like starting from scratch. Starting from scratch defining what I do, without any product, creating a new business.
I have been a therapist in private practice and I have owned a child care center, so I know how to move forward when my service is defined and understood. I know lots of ways to market (even though it still feels like a chore). I know how to craft a marketing message, generate leads, create marketing tools, and set up the ongoing conversation that is marketing.
I know how to find an office, get the phone and utilities turned on, and hire people. I’m ready to provide customer service, track results, and get feedback on new ideas. I can manage bills and invoices and income (thank you Quickbooks).
I know how to take ideas, examples, and structured exercises and turn them into a system. I see where my target audience could use a new perspective to help them find their path and move forward. I’m eager to conduct interviews with interesting people and turn them into great products.
But all of those things are on hold while I carefully choose my focus, define my mission, and find my unique voice.
I feel like Merlin in the tale of King Arthur. It’s like I’m living my life backwards. I see how to do all the things it’s not time to do, but I have a hard time seeing the task back here at the beginning.
Don’t get me wrong. When I do launch a service or a product I’m not set to zoom straight for the finish line. I don’t have execution and delivery down pat. I’ll wind up overwhelmed by the details of the marketing plan for a while, or get sidetracked by some technology decision. I’m just a person, after all.
But I’m ready to drive my new car. I’m ready to get comfortable in the driver’s seat and navigate the road. I’m ready to examine maps to new places and choose the most interesting routes. I’m longing to see my destination in the distance, and all the different paths I can take to get there. I don’t know the complications I’ll encounter, but I know I can find my way around them. Eventually I’ll spot the detours and obstacles well in advance and my driving will become more effortless and easy.
For now (just a little longer) I’m back at the beginning, being sure I pick the right car. After all, it’s a journey, not a race. It’s gonna’ be a long, enjoyable drive.
May You Find Joy,
Steve Coxsey