We begin our coaching session. Dr. Freud asks me why I had come to see him. While I had mentioned my reasons in an email I had sent him, it was somehow quite different to share my pain with this man in person. I indicated that I have been an account executive in an advertising firm for eight years. While I did most of my work at home during COVID, most of my clients had returned to a request for in-person interactions when working on an ad campaign, as well as when making an initial “pitch” for serving an account. I had grown quite tired of being “on the road” (or actually often “in the air”); furthermore, I was finding the work to often be boring and routine. While I occasionally was working on an ad campaign that was innovative and demanding of creativity, most of my clients in recent years have chosen to “play it safe.” COVID seems to have driven everyone to a state of anxious freeze regarding how to bring their message to the public.
This all came to a head several weeks ago when I was flying into Chicago. As usual, O’Hare was jammed up. Even though my flight was held up for a while before take-off because of traffic at O’Hare, we were still placed on hold and were forced to circle around the skies of Southern Wisconsin. I decided to take out my smartphone and play one of the CDs I had just loaded. It was an album of classical music works by Ralph Vaughan Williams (one of my favorite composers). A piece of music that I had never heard was suddenly swirling around my head and heart. It was Flos Campi. The soulful musical expression of the cello and wordless choir touched me deeply.
As I looked out the window of the airplane, viewing the verdant green countryside of Southern Wisconsin, and listening to this remarkable composition by Vaughan Williams, I began to quietly cry (which I never do). I felt the pain of living with a job I no longer found inspiring, spending time away from a home and family that I deeply love, and, frankly, mourning a life now being led with little purpose or joy. I found myself tearing up a bit, just telling Dr. Freud of my state of mind and heart while hovering north of O’Hara. When I eventually did land, I immediately called my wife and told her that it was time for me to move on with my life. Surprisingly, my wife was neither surprised nor resistant to my declared change in plans. When I got home several days later, my wife suggested that I see a life coach to sort out where to go next. She had heard of your work from a dear friend, found your website, and encouraged me to contact you. So, here I am.
Dr. Freud acknowledged that it was appropriate for me to contact him. This type of career and life crisis resided at the heart of his coaching practice. Dr. Freud then asked me many questions for the next twenty minutes or so. He asks me quite a few questions about my childhood, focusing on my parents and the way they raised me from birth until adolescence. He also inquired into my institutional affiliations during my early years. What kind of schools did I attend? In what kind of neighborhood do I live? I was surprised to be asked about my religious affiliations when I was growing up, and about my parents’ political perspectives. I’m not sure if it is appropriate for a life coach to be asking these sensitive questions about religion and politics; however, I shared this information with Dr. Freud.
