I once supervised a guy I deeply respect. When I learned I’d be supervising Bill Bates, an accomplished professional retiring from a long career in education, I’ll admit I was intimidated. Bill had been Director of Physical Education, Health and Wellness for the Cambridge Public Schools, and a client of the company where I was employed.
I quickly learned Bill is a gentle giant, a kind man who cares deeply for others. He coached and mentored me around empowering a team, and welcomed my coaching in return as he learned the sales side of a field he’d spent years in as a client.
But Bill taught me something even more valuable. He didn’t retire and take the first job that came along. He knew his next, probably final, career phase needed to inspire him and build on his strengths. So he did something that felt progressive for the early 2000s: he hired a coach.
Bill had loved bringing our programming, which introduces Outward Bound concepts into schools, corporations, and camps, into his district. It’s what kept him working as long as he did. It energized him and taught students social and emotional skills while building their confidence.
Working with his coach, Bill approached us about selling the program to other schools and districts. He went on to have a fantastic career there, helping schools and camps across the country fund and install this essential program.
I’m not telling you this to brag on Bill, though I could all day. I’m telling you because I’ve been thinking about him a lot as I navigate my own next phase.
As I’ve mentioned, my business is shifting. I’m taking on less work and collaborating more with High 5 Adventure Learning to deliver Navigating Challenging Dialogue® programs to businesses, schools, camps, and nonprofits. My focus now is 1:1 coaching and consulting.
That leaves me room for art, writing, nature, reading, and time with my animals and family. Things I’ve not previously had much time for. But I’ve noticed a conflict in myself. I’m used to working 40-50 hours a week, always building my business. I used to call it my third child. Its health and wellness consumed most of my waking thoughts.
So shifting away from an identity built around the business has been uncomfortable. Some days I have hours free and struggle to fully enjoy them. I feel guilty reading a novel or taking a walk during the 9-5 workday instead of working. I thought it would be an easy shift. It isn’t.
It was in that discomfort that I remembered how Bill approached his next act. He didn’t fumble through it or wallow in frustration and guilt. He let himself be vulnerable and sought support from a coach.
A few weeks ago, I decided I needed the same. I started working with a therapist who’s helping me sit with the question “Who is Beth now?”
The first step, more unsettling than I expected, was admitting that the strengths and qualities that carried me this far might not be what carries me forward. And that I could be gentler with myself about that.
I’ve spent so many years listening, helping people work through discomfort and find healthy ways to have hard conversations, that I’ve realized I struggle to relate to people any other way. I often show up first as Beth the problem solver. I’m craving more authenticity, more of a two-way street in my relationships.
It’s difficult to admit that I built this stage myself because it’s where I felt most comfortable: being the helper.
Now I’m sitting with a harder question: “What do I want my life to look like and feel like for the next five years?” It’s a simple question, but for me it’s always been about business success and goals. Framing it around happiness and fulfillment instead is a different kind of hard.
I’d encourage you to learn from Bill too. What do you want your next five years to feel like? Where do you want to put your energy, time, and attention day to day?
I’d love to hear your thoughts.
And if you’re looking for a safe place to work through big questions like these, I offer a 4-session coaching program to help you dive in. Sign up here or reply to this email to learn more.