Choosing the Mighty Life

For about a year I’ve been thinking about pursuing life coach training, a path to which I seem pretty drawn, but I just can’t seem to make the commitment. There are a lot of programs out there that provide various depths of education and range from a 2-day weekend seminar all the way up to a 4-year degree and beyond. I already have one of those 4-year degrees and wasn’t eager to embark upon that massive feat, nor did I see the value in traipsing to a 2-day seminar to hand over my money in exchange for some official designation as a Life Coach. 

If you are anywhere near responsible for coaching lives, it should take more than a seminar. 

So, to procrastinate in my classic pattern, I bought books. For a year I bought books. And I even read most of them. They are books I was and still am excited about. Loving What Is by Byron Katie. The Power of Now and A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. This was in addition to all my Brene Brown work. And I told myself that once I got through 4 specific Martha Beck books that were pre-requirements for enrolling in her training, that’d I’d enroll. That was the training that my own life coach completed before she began practicing. Good enough for her, good enough for me. 

Except I haven’t finished the Martha books and didn’t enroll in her perfectly lovely training. It never felt all the way right. There were no signs. 

About 10 days ago I got a clear-as-a-bell sign. Or series of them, if you will. 

Lately I’ve been downright obsessed with a dating app called Tinder. My friends have, too. We have been meeting guys and whatnot–lots of matches. Lots of mismatches. Lots of creepers. Lots of amazeball guys. Several instances of bad timing. But, all in all, it’s been fun and a nice little crutch for this lady as she entered the dating world from a long break. However, I recently claimed I was shutting it all down — it was just too distracting. Too frustrating. The bad was outweighing the good. 

Then I matched with This One Guy from Tulsa. His profile caught my attention because, unlike the majority of the hundreds of profiles I’d scanned before his, he actually seemed like a happy guy. What struck me in particular was the phrase, “I live an incredible life”. When he introduced himself and started interviewing me he asked why my profile said, “Advisor to many and love figuring out how to hep people live more fully, myself included.” I told him about Brene Brown and Eckhart Tolle and my many epiphanies. 

Soon he mentioned he had just completed about a year of life coach training. 

I honest-to-god gasped at my phone. Then my soul giggled that deep, knowing kind of chuckle when I realize I’ve stumbled onto something important. 

The next day I began googling all of the things and discovered that his school was in San Francisco. For those playing along, I am psychotically in love with the Bay Area. I also learned that the program is 10 weekend sessions over the course of 9 months with lots of reading and peer calls in between. For those playing along, I love people. In-person people. See up there at the top of my blog where it talks about the people? 

The tuition was a lot less but with plane tickets, it’s going to be about the same as Martha’s program. 

But with real-life people! And in San Francisco! I could revolutionize my heart and gain professional training on something I naturally practice every day with friends in view of the Golden Gate Bridge. No shit. I had no idea such a place existed.

The Universe finally got my attention for a coaching program by delivering it to me via a hot guy then placed it in San Francisco. I call these little serendipitous elements, Trail Markers. Sheri, you’re on the right path. See? I marked the trail with things you pay attention to just to be sure you see what I see. It suddenly seemed like a no-brainer. 

Except I wasn’t sure how the money would work out. Of course Fear had to make an appearance. 

I hemmed. I hawed. I flipped and flipped through my calendar. I scoured their website. I made phone calls and texted Team Sheri. To one friend I said, “I should be a life coach, right? I’m not just imagining this?” To which this person replied, 

I believe your life experiences have led you to become a person who sees life in a way most people don’t. You’ve helped get my head together, and over the last two years you’ve been unbelievably patient with me as I’ve banged my head against the same wall over and over. You never passed judgement on me. You only offered sympathy and objective advice whether it was something I wanted to hear or not. You led the proverbial horse to water and sat patiently until I decided to drink. You’ve been my life-coach for the last two years, so yes, I think it’s something you should pursue.

The money will sort itself out, it always does. The time investment will sort itself out, too.

In October I board a plane bound for my favorite city. I’m enrolled in a SCHOOL FOR FEELINGS!

It’s like Camp Mighty once a month! But with more heart work and less palm trees.  And probably not a pool. I was bummed when I learned that Camp Mighty was discontinued but now that turn of events is just another Trail Marker.



Last Saturday I flipped open my laptop, stomped over to my Amazon wish list and purchased a new camera body. I’ve hemmed and hawed over a new body for YEARS. Last Saturday I’d had enough. My DSLR Rebel is 9 years old. I’ve shot tens of thousands of photos for the last decade. Hell, there are 3,000 on my iPhone at this very moment. I love photography. Fuck, Sheri. Buy the goddamned camera already. That’s kind of how that went. Thanks, MasterCard, for the heavy lifting.

A few hours later I got a message from a friend in Mountain View, CA, asking if I’d be interested in house/pet sitting for about 10 days. Um….DUH. I would just need to talk with work to be sure I could work virtually from the Bay Area. Because I am always reaching to the highest shelf in every life experience, I began scouring my brain for the larger benefit to the situation. 

I texted 4 or 5 friends in California letting them know I’d likely be there towards the end of June and seeking meetings in social tech, media and food. I texted a few friends here the same thing. I jumped onto the city of Mountain View’s parks and rec site to research camps (because of course I’d take the kids). I touched base with Expedia to get an idea on airfare. I started plotting days in my head. Weekend beach trip. Last Saturday at the Ferry Building Farmers Market. Meeting at Twitter. Chasing down that blogger and this magazine and whichever brands I could get my hands on. Who knows about any startups? I want to beta test my face off! My head was spinning like a top and buzzing with white noise.

My 2-3 early June music prospects had declined, so I all but abandoned Sheri’s Living Room for June. There was no time. 

I talked with my boss about the opportunity. Later in the week I got authorization for adventure.

On Friday I began taking all the factors into consideration. That day I also had 5 or 6 meetings, one of which was a lunch between the 5 past presidents of my Rotary club along with next year’s president. During lunch, Andy said something I’ve heard him say dozens of times in the 6 years I’ve known him:

Priorities are like arms. If you think you have more than two you’re crazy.

I’m sitting in a world of credit card debt, robust work load, volunteerism, personal life and parenthood. Each one of these aspects contain at least 5 unfinished projects that are grossly overdue. Except the credit cards…they get paid in a timely fashion (only because I hired a bookkeeper 6 months ago). Here I was looking to Add More Things.

I was crazy. 

On Friday night, still buzzing from the possibility of the trip, I stood in my kitchen making dinner. Spotify blared Joy Kills Sorrow as I diced a peeled sweet potato. I clearly felt the truth surfacing… stay home. I need to focus on the things important to me right now. Music. Peace. Seeing a few things through. I need to skip this particular impulsive decision. I need to play with my new camera (which arrived Friday to remind me why my MasterCard couldn’t shoulder 3 plane tickets) and book some music and see family and chase down the calm. 

On Saturday morning I messaged my friend and she graciously didn’t hate my face for telling her no. I messaged my bestie and she congratulated me on my adult decision. I messaged my boss and he agreed that it was a good call to pass. I messaged the booking agent in Austin and secured Matt the Electrician.

I messaged Andy to borrow a great lens for my new 70D. Then I focused.






Sitting in perfect weather and The Flow

I’ve spent the better part of this year learning how to let go of life’s expectations. It seems like a simple thing to do…you know, don’t expect things to be handed to you. Don’t expect my kids to finish their homework on time. Don’t expect to be acknowledged for my _____. (*work, deeds, beauty, whatever). And it’s pretty cool to see what surprises I stumble upon as I live this way. I’ve internally and with a few of my friends have termed this notion, “The Flow.” 

The Flow includes other personal pro-tips like letting go of control. Whether that be relationships or vacations or my day-to-day tasks, part of the joy of The Flow is how things fall into place just as well with little to no effort as they did with moderate to great effort. For instance, as we left for the airport I had not yet booked a stay for San Diego on Wednesday night. I was too busy and distracted and my intuition never really kicked on to say, “Get this done right this minute.” By the time we arrived at the airport my best friend (with whom I am traveling) and her husband remembered that they had Marriott points. By the time we reached our layover in Denver we had a place to sleep that was way nicer than the hovel I would have booked and it was free. That’s not even the best part! The best was that I hadn’t spent hours and hours and hours wasted trying to find the perfect place. I do that. It’s ridiculous. 

The reason we flew into San Diego (2.5 hours away) instead of Palm Springs was because I have a Life List item that I chose to start last year. Put my feet in the ocean every year for 5 years. Last year was San Francisco and I figured Palm Springs was close enough to the ocean that this trip would the perfect opportunity. That right there is where the planning stopped. 

Yesterday morning we woke up and I searched Yelp for a place to eat. We discovered that our favorite breakfast spot in the country, the WHOLE REASON we planned a 6-hour layover in Denver on Monday, had a location in San Diego that was 12 minutes away from the hotel. The Flow. At breakfast I was zooming in on a map of La Jolla beaches and found the La Jolla branch of the Museum of Contemporary Art San Diego that was walking distance to the beach. We ended up spending equal or more time at the art museum than we did at the amazing, post-card-like beach that we’ll revisit on Sunday. This wasn’t planned. It was The Flow. And it was perfect. 

Two bennies. One heavenly breakfast.

Feet in the ocean, year 2. Check! #gomighty #mightylifelist

I saw an exhibition called Lost in the Memory Palace that shifted my perceptions of what art is. It was immersive and mesmerizing. Fascinating sounds, textures, images, light and whatever else that thing is that I can’t put my finger on. The art-ness, I suppose. I wanted to spent the whole day there. 

I’m in two art shows in the next two weeks. Have I mentioned that? If you have seen me in person I’m sure I have. It’s exciting and a direct result of living in The Flow. Something looks cool, my intuition says yes and I jump right in. It’s exciting and different. Working on the pieces is a meditation for me. I’ve been chasing meditation for YEARS with little success because, apparently, I was chasing it. Wanting to control it. I must sit down and light this candle and wipe my mind and meditate for 15 minutes every morning. LIKE THE BOOK SAYS I SHOULD. 


I pick up a paintbrush and move my hands. My mind melts empty as I focus on the ever-so-immediate now-ness. My tweezers pinch rhinestone #300 and place it in the glue. I’m only concerned with filling in the rhinestones and singing along to the music on the radio. The Flow is a gorgeous experience. 


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