When the doer cannot do

by Amy on April 14, 2017

It’s Thursday. I have had the flu all week. And today I learned I have a bladder infection too. Bonus!

I cancelled a tennis match, a podcast interview, three tennis lessons (two for me and one for my kids), missed an entire week of jiujitsu because I couldn’t drive the kids, skipped the Facebook Live posts to market my upcoming free call, missed my son’s baseball game, didn’t walk my kids to the bus stop or pick them up from the bus, cancelled a meeting with their third grade teacher and didn’t get to go on a school field trip, plus I didn’t write for two days.

I did drink a lot of theraflu and sleep.

All this time in bed feeling miserable has got me thinking…

Being sick is HARD. My throat hurts like hell and this body ache is awful. But the doing nothing part… that is the HARDEST.

Especially when it means cancelling a week’s worth of things.

I am a doer, an achiever, a healthy fucking striver dammit.

This week was an experiment in what happens when your “healthy striver,” poops out and the DOER isn’t able to DO.

Here’s what happened.

  1. DENIAL: I can totally play tennis tomorrow. I played that other time with a cold. And I won! Plus Ron is coming to watch me. This will all go away by morning. Next morning: This is not going away. Arghhhh.
  2. ANGER: What fucked up message is the universe trying to send me now?!
  3. RESENTMENT:! I am not looking for growth opportunities! Fuck! And why is my husband not home by now?! You would think he could pick up a damn sock this once, me being on my death bed and all.
  4. SADNESS: I want my mother!!!!!!!
  5. FEAR: If I cancel all these tennis lessons my coach is going to fire me as a client. And the podcast with Emma. If I cancel on her, she is going to hate me! And Mrs Hunting-Knight will never let me volunteer in her class again.
  6. GUILT: My poor children have no one to wave goodbye to from the school bus.
  7. OBSESSIVE COMPULSIVE BEHAVIOR: I can’t believe I am checking my Facebook feed AGAIN. Wow my Facebook feed is annoying. I’ll just check it one more time.
  8. IDENTITY CRISIS. If a tree falls in the woods and no one is around to hear it, does it still make a sound? If a doer does not do stuff, does she still exist?
  9. THE UNEXPECTED: My kids are making breakfast for each other. This is actually happening.
  10. HARD TRUTHS: All these after school activities are making me crazy. I can’t do jujitsu twice a week. What the #$%^ was I thinking?!

And most of all, I learned about kindness. Sometimes kindness is in the doing. It is in the meals we make for our family and the appointments we keep to our colleagues. It is in the waving goodbye and the throwing of kisses and the value we provide to our communities.

But for the doer, the real test is to know kindness to OURSELVES. To be able to miss out when we were wishing to play because we know it is not kind to our bodies to push like that. To be able to say “I’m sorry but I have to cancel,” when we fear that we might disappoint someone we respect even though we know it is not kind to our bodies to push like that. To curl up in bed instead of opening up the computer even though there is a launch coming because we know it’s not kind to our bodies to push like that.

And most of all kindness to ourselves is to trust that all is well, we are the same beautiful spirit, even and especially when NOT fixing dinner, NOT driving kids to jijitsu, NOT playing tennis, NOT marketing a launch and NOT being interviewed for a podcast.

I am beautiful laying here in the clothes I’ve been wearing for two days (although I really should change) sipping theraflu and watching OJ: Made in America.

If a doer cannot do, does she still exist?

Yes she does.


I am driving down Broadway Boulevard. It is Summer 2008. The twins are about six months old. Looking through the rearview window, I see them strapped into their car seats. As usual, Anthony is not happy. He is doing that thing he does before an all out crying fit. Alice is looking at me. Her expression says, “Mom what are we going to do about him?” I fumble around for some of those crackers he likes — I stretch one arm back to hand him one while keeping my other arm on the steering wheel and my eye on the road.

Somehow in the middle of this juggling act I notice a sign out front of the New Age bookstore. There is a Psychic Fair this weekend. Readings are available for a reduced price. There will be tarot card readers, hand analysis, mediums, something called the Oneness Experience.

My heart skips a beat as I drive by. But my brains quickly swoops in to talk some sense into me:

Brain: “A Psychic Fair? Are you kidding me?”
Heart: “It sounds fun!”
Brain: “Aside from the obvious that Psychic Fairs are for FREAKS, what did you plan on doing with your babies?”
Heart: “I don’t know…Get Ron to watch them?”
Brain: “So you can go to a Psychic Fair? Right.”

But I had just read about “The Urge to Merge.” I have been on a woo woo book reading frenzy ever since my mom died three months before the babies were born. Truthfully I’ve always loved woo woo but I have never given myself permission before. But now I needed to know… Where did she go? Was she okay? So I was deep in my research.

Which is how I learned about this so-called Urge to Merge that Martha Beck talks about. She says that it’s important to follow through whenever unexpected things inspire you. Could be a person, a place, a book, or, in my case, a Psychic Fair.

So I left the babies with Ron. My brain was right. He wasn’t happy about my leaving him with a couple babies for a day so that I could go to a Psychic Fair.

“Why do you want to go to Psychic Fair?” He is looking at me like I’m crazy.
“I don’t know. I just do!” I say as the baby I am holding on my hip pulls at my hair. The other one is on the ground by my foot trying to put my shoestrings in its mouth.
“Maybe,” I say through my teeth, “I could use a break.”

As I drive the five minutes it takes to get to the fair, I feel guilty and slightly crazy. But I can’t help but also notice something else… I different sensation roaming around in my heart space. I feel giddy. I have no idea why…

Some bells clang as I open the door. The sharp smell of incense hits my nose. I walk past displays of crystals and tuning bowls. All of these things seem weird. But in a good way.

A few minutes later I am sitting in front of a Tarot card reader. She pulls her cards. She looks down at them. She looks up at me. I wait with anticipation.

“You are a healer,” she says.
“I am?” I ask, skeptical. NEVER before have I considered myself a healer…

Next I am sitting in front of someone who can talk to spirits. “Your mom is showing me those trashy magazines they sell at the check out line of the grocery store. She says you two liked to read them.”

“Uh yeah,” I respond feeling a bit exposed.

Then this woman looks at me and says…
“By the way, you are a healer.”

I look at her and my heart leaps. There it is again!

“Hey that’s what the lady before you just said!”
“Yes, you needed to hear it more than once I suspect.” She says.

My final reading is with a woman who does hand analysis. There was a choice between her and some other guy. But this particular hand analyst is also psychic I am told by the cashier so I figure I better go with the psychic one (more bang for my buck)…

She looks down at my palm.
The lines of my hand confirm it.
“You are a healer,” she says and I nearly begin to cry.

Selfish. Exhausted. Confused. Bitchy. Lonely. All of these things I could tell you about msyelf. But NEVER EVER had I once thought of myself as a healer.

It’s what I needed to hear. And I wasn’t going to hear it from my husband or my friends or any of my family members. Inspiration led me exactly where I needed to be for the specific guidance I needed at the time.

I started life coach training with Martha Beck in June 2009.

All inspiration is a message from spirit. Are you listening? Are you responding? Or are you letting your brain “talk sense into you?” Are you saying no because it doesn’t make any sense? Or maybe you are afraid of what other people will say? Or maybe you are afraid it might inconvenience someone? Or maybe its just too fucking crazy.

All of the above?

The thing is…

Inspiration doesn’t care about how it looks to your neighbors. How much time and money it’s going to cost you. How long it will take. Or how many people you put out.

God, Source, Spirit, The Angels, The Muses…


It may not make an ounce of sense, other people might thing you are a freak, YOU might think you are going nuts, but I think that’s why they call it Faith.

BTW I’m doing a free call for coaches or coach wanna-be’s. If you’re inspired, check it out: http://www.mindcluttersucks.com/



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