By Jim Hagarty
2006
It occurs to me that the major thing that has been missing from my existence for the past five and a half decades, the absence of which has stood between me and continuous joy, is a life coach. There have been few days along the many paths I’ve wandered down, when I could not have used the assistance of somebody smarter than me to make it through unbruised and intact.
Finding somebody smarter than I am should not have been a chore as the number of people who fall into that category form a very large group. But in my obstinacy, I have pretty much always deflected the help of those who would have and could have straightened me out and I have often done so to my great chagrin.
My need for coaching was obvious early on. I could have used a school playground coach to offer me advice on how to escape from the clutches of a bully whose happiness level and my misery level pretty much coincided on most days.
Then, of course, a personal hygiene coach might have come in handy, especially with the arrival of my high school days, so that I could have avoided clearing out any hallway I walked down.
Later, it sure would have been nice to have had a dating coach riding along in the back seat of my parents’ car, to whisper instructions to me as I fumbled around helplessly in the front trying to provide demonstrations of my affection for my latest companion.
A money coach sure might have earned his weight in gold earlier in my life as I had a habit of treating cash as something foul that had to be gotten rid of as quickly as possible.
But, alas, I grew up in that forlorn time long before the arrival of life coaches as they now exist in every possible manifestation. There are executive coaches and business coaches, spiritual coaches and Grade 4 science coaches. If I knew what a “certified integrative coach” was, I’d hire her on the spot.
Oh, the use I could have made of coaches. A fitness coach and a fashion coach, a career coach and an investment coach. Bachelor coaching. Cooking coach. Some pre-marriage coaching – and a ton of post-marital coaching – would have saved a lot of stress. A child-rearing coach.
A writing coach might have helped me become a million seller. A public speaking coach would have me out there competing with Bill Clinton for $50,000 gigs.
Yes, what our world has been missing are coaches. People to whom we can surrender our wills, our brains and our common sense and who we can blame later when things come undone. But, skeptic that I am – I could have used an attitude adjustment coach – I can’t help wondering from what corner of Heaven all these angels, er, coaches, originate. Is there some test to which we can put our potential coaches that would tell us whether or not these are people we really should be following? Especially if we’re shelling out big bucks for the benefits of their services?
Of course, the world has always had coaches, in reality, though they were rarely called that. We had funny names for them, such as parents and grandparents, older brothers and sisters, priests and ministers, teachers, guidance counsellors, bankers, doctors, mentors, tutors and buddies that had been around the block a few more times than we had. They all passed on what they could and for the most part, their services were free, notwithstanding the occasional serving of pride we had to swallow to get from ignorance to the answers we needed.
I still remember, for example, the day my older sister introduced me to the wonders of underarm deodorant. And she didn’t charge a penny. All my dates, from that time on benefitted from her sharing.
But those inclined to be shy of professional life coaches, in whatever form they come, should know that these people don’t come out of nowhere: The gurus at the centre of it all are the ones known as the coaches of the coaches. Yes. Even your life coach needs a coach to teach him how to be a coach, and the first coach also needs a coach, who, as it turns out …
