There’s no checklist for this
I still think of myself as a life coach. I primarily use my coach skills with my legal clients now, but they come in real handy there. I love the process of life coaching. Coach training was my first foray into a way of thinking that allowed me to take accountability for my experience of life. This accountability was the necessary ingredient to finally feel like I was in the driver's seat rather than a passenger in a brittle boat on a rushing, boulder-strewn river. I’m still in the same treacherous river, mind you, but the boat is more nimble and resilient, and I have a paddle.
The business of life coaching though… whew! It’s wild out there. As an aspiring full-time coach, I found myself being coached by coaches who coach coaches and if you’re thinking, “gosh, Talia that sounds like the making of a pyramid scheme,” you’d probably be right. For the record, I don’t think this is inherent in the profession, there is just a get-rich-quick culture in coaching that leads to charlatanism.
The industry is full of frameworks, checklists, and 5-step proven processes. All you have to do is follow this 5-step process to create your own 5-step process, and boom! You can’t stop the money from beating down your door. This is extremely effective marketing. People who buy coaching products usually do so because they have a problem they need to solve, and simple solutions sell. I mean this is true of any product really, but it’s possible to create an actually-simple solution to a clogged drain. Solutions to problems that arise in people’s brains are a different story entirely.
I wish I could say that it didn’t take me long to realize that this was bullshit. But it did. Even after I abandoned the goal of being a full-time coach, I think part of me believed it was because I hadn’t yet found my magic formula–the result I could guarantee. This way of thinking worked its way into my law practice as I tried to find ways to productize my services so I could scale my business.
This is when I began to realize that the emperor had no clothes. I worked very hard earlier this year to define a flat-fee divorce product. I put so many (unbillable) hours into this project. I sold a few. And very quickly realized that you just can’t productize divorce. It’s messy and every situation is unique and every person comes to it with different capacities and tools for dealing with hard things.
When I named my law firm “Trailhead,” I imagined that I would be able to show people the way through a very difficult journey. But the trail analogy is limited here. It turns out, there is no trail. There is a mountain that is covered with cliffs and brush and rocks, and home to wild animals that will mostly leave you alone but can draw blood if provoked. No two people take the same path up this mountain (even people who are married to each other at the bottom).
I’ve learned my role is not to show anyone the way. The most important part of the journey is to be the one who makes the decisions about how you’ll get to the top. What I have are things like snacks and a compass, some rock climbing gear and a first aid kit. I’ve seen many of the obstacles you will encounter, or ones just like them, and can usually provide some tips on how to get through them. I know some survival skills I can teach you if you want to learn. But I can’t make it feel easy or carry you to the top.
I’m coming to realize that this isn’t unique to divorce. This is life. There is no checklist, no framework, no 5-step process. There is just the messy business of figuring it out as you go along. On the one hand, I find this realization very annoying. On the other, it’s a bit of a relief. You’re not supposed to know what you’re doing. The best you can hope for is to collect some tools and experience that will help along the way.
