Reflection
I’ve been in coach training with Aletheia, which teaches a method called “integral unfoldment”, since February.
This week I looked in the mirror and couldn’t recognize the man who was looking back.
That’s a dramatic statement and a bit poetic.
Of course I recognized him.
The features haven’t changed much - more tanned, I suppose.
The balding top of the head is getting even patchier when I don’t stay on top of the head shaving.
Months of high intensity interval training are starting to show.
The stress eating too.
But the point I’m making here isn’t that the outer appearance has shifted a lot.
It’s more the way I feel, and the way I experience, the “this-ness” of JJ that’s changed.
As I continue to grow and develop in the Aletheia method, I feel more like an ocean than a wave.
It’s hard to describe exactly what integral unfoldment is.
It truly is something that has to be experienced, and experienced over the course of time, to understand.
Here’s the best way I can describe it.
In a “normal” coaching conversation, I would show up with some challenge or goal and the coach would usually ask questions and listen well to help me think through the challenge and formulate a next action.
Aletheia coaching conversations aren’t that dissimilar.
You show up with something that is alive for you right now, and you leave with some form of clarity.
The difference is that Aletheia doesn’t stop with your mindset or thoughts.
Aletheia engages all depths of Being, right down into non-dual Presence where a sense of separation totally drops away.
In some ways, it’s like collaborative contemplative practice.
A form of prayer in which both people enter with the intention of being totally open to what’s unfolding in the present moment, and walk away transformed by the relationship itself.
It reminds me of what church used to feel like at its best - a place where people loved each other into an awareness of their inherent wholeness, beauty, and goodness.
With Aletheia coaching, there’s no analysis or “connecting the dots”.
The coach holds space from Presence, and offers what is called “tracking/contacting” where they mirror back not just what you say, but the way you say it and how it feels to be you right now.
You feel felt.
Feeling felt is a curious thing, because you don’t realize how little you feel felt by others until you experience it in a container like Aletheia coaching.
Where someone is so open to you with unconditional positive regard that your defenses melt, and there’s nothing to hide.
True nakedness, true vulnerability, true depth of contact.
With the safety that creates, you bravely explore the depths of you.
You feel that which you may have avoided before.
You get to know the Parts of you that formed to protect you and carry your hurts.
You confront your delusions.
You open up to resources and capacities you didn’t know existed or hadn’t contacted in a long time.
I tend to walk away from a coaching session not with a plan of action, but with a different way of Being in the world.
A way of Being that is expanded, like a flower with new petals to absorb the sun with.
I share this because I’ve had a hard year.
Everything I used to know and take for granted changed.
I didn’t want to engage that change without asking what it meant to be different in the world as a result.
To allow myself to be changed and transformed as a loving response instead of a wounded reaction.
To see if there was a way that this pain could become the catalyst for deep transformation, a way to transmute suffering into the gold of alive Presence.
The question, in short: “Do I choose my fear or do I choose love?”
The answer, also in short: “I choose love.”
Last night I had a coaching session with my mentor.
As we explored, I found myself encountering who I really am without any sense of boundary between “me” and the “other”.
That “me” we uncovered wasn’t a wave in the ocean.
He IS the ocean, in all of its peaceful power.
I could look up and see light illuminating the surface of the water above me.
There was a stirring of life everywhere.
The void that I had avoided my whole life, through analyzing, numbing behaviors, and codependent relationships - it was never a void at all.
The darkness was alive.
And that darkness was me.
I felt me,
the unshakeable me,
the steady me,
the powerful me,
the peaceful me,
the endless me,
the infinite me.
I knew, in that moment, that even if I forgot this me,
that I could always come back.
I also found, with joy -
the fear of the void had left.
And that, my friends?
That is worth everything.
That is the true gold.
That is the promise of transformation.
For this gift, I am eternally grateful for the Aletheia method,
and the saints who have walked me home.
My integrating practice after the session last night was to write a three line poem.
I’d like to share it with you.
Thank you for reading, and for being on the journey with me.
The ocean of me sees the ocean of you.
And knows that there is no separation between us.
Poem - The Void Was Me
No longer drowning A darkness made from peace and power Being the ocean, the ocean is me
Flow on. 🌊
I see You, JJ ❤️✨
I am touched by your way with words. Your words touch my Being. It's an actual experience reading your words. Just like the experience of a collective prayer you've described.
I am so happy for you. And am too grateful to the saints that have led you to this coaching program. You will be an amazing coach.
You chose love. ❤️
Thank you 🙏
Beautiful reflection, JJ. Thank you.
Also, about this: "A form of prayer in which both people enter with the intention of being totally open to what’s unfolding in the present moment, and walk away transformed by the relationship itself."
One of the untold dirty secrets of a developing coaching practice is it becomes clear to that coach how poorly trained humans are in the art of listening. It's not for a total lack of trying. We do learn "active listening' techniques in some schools (and then promptly brand ourselves a "good listener"), but there's so much more possible.
The other dirty secret is realizing that I have not yet arrived. In fact, I imagine I never will. There are coaches who would find conversation with this current version of me a valuable exercise in tolerance for all the ways I don't hold space as well as they're accustomed. I'm sure this is true.
The comfort I take in listening to others attempt to be "good listeners," is to recognize that there's so much opportunity to shine as one who can make others feel seen. As much as I want to life in a world where we can all hold space better, this demonstrates a kind of job security.
I also sometimes wonder if there isn't an opportunity to this thing to everyone.