Please Keep Moving Forward

I'm obsessed with self improvement. I mean to say that I strive to become a better person. The bottom line is I am always working towards making tomorrow even better, because let's face it, today kind of sucks. But exactly how does one self improve? I have returned many a time to the self-improvement buffet, dishing out what I believe will be the answer du jour, but so far, all I've reaped is some indigestion and a bill.
Okay here's what I've tried so far:

1. I read The Artist's Way. When I say reading I mean struggling through the first chapter and then skimming it for quick tips and pretty pictures. The book is aimed at helping you identify and overcome the blocks that prevent you from taping into your full creative potential. Blocks created when you were like two years old. At two years old I'm pretty sure the only blocks I had said A, B, and D (I lost C, which still haunts me). But I tried. I finished the first chapter and found at the end a list of exercises to do. Exercises? I am not going to do any exercises. Painful memories of French class flooded in. It was that book - that cahier - Monsieur Trembley visites Quebec! "Ou est-que il va a Quebec? Qui est la soeur de Monsieur Trembley? Pourquoi est-que Monsieur Trembley n'a pas creativite?" Because he's in a textbook that's why! And what if I got answer wrong? There are no wrong answers when talking about your feelings - ah you wanna bet? The happiest moment in my life thus far? I can't remember yesterday. All I knew was there were none while I was reading that book. So I gave it to a lawyer who wanted to try stand-up comedy.
   
   
2. I went to therapy. When I moved to New York, I wanted to fit in. Everyone I knew went to therapy. New Yorkers are sophisticated people - maybe I do have problems that can't be fixed with a couple of vodkas. Maybe there's something to this therapy crap. Maybe referring to it as "therapy crap" was a bad start. So I enrolled. Three things became apparent. One was that my life story wasn't as hilarious as I thought. Two, my therapist couldn't tell sarcasm from non-sarcasm. She took "Childhood? Sure, yeah my childhood was amazing, very happy. Wasn't everyone's?" seriously. Lastly, I realized that I find self-discovery distasteful. What? My anger issues stem from not having enough communication with my dad? Great. What the hell am I supposed to do with that information? I have become a true believer that ignorance is bliss. I'd rather play dumb with my emotions than try to figure out how that camping trip in 1975 is linked to the fact that scream every time I see lots of nylon. I want to be oblivious. The next time I'm depressed I want to think... hmm I wonder why this is. Hmm...maybe it's allergies! After all, what do I know? Understanding my right, left, front or bottom brain is too advanced for me! Especially my bottom brain.
   
   
3. I read another self help book. Yes, I read a different help book. This one that was all about tapping into your creative potential to make money off of it! Much better. But chapter two instructed me to spend 10 minutes a day concentrating on moving a pencil across a desk with my mind. The next step was to concentrate on that parking spot in front of my favorite restaurant, to make sure it would be waiting for me. I needed to concentrate on having a talent agent waiting for me. After that - maybe the parking spot in front of the agency's office. But then again, I don't drive.
   
   
4. I listened to Anthony Robbins tapes. My friend suggested that I listen to his tapes - they really helped her. She lives in a dirty basement with a sink overflowing with dirty paper plates. It was a bad sell.
   
   
5. I took mind altering herbs. I took some Chinese herbs for a while that are supposed to enhance your brain potential. I took them for about a week, and realized that I felt sick to my stomach every time I swallowed one. I read the ingredients and noticed each tablet contained a healthy amount of sparrow brain. I'm pretty sure I'm allergic to sparrow brain.
   

So I abandoned all these avenues to self-improvement. I wasn't going to place any more stock in therapists, astrologists, psychics, self-help books, clowns, herbs, tapes, or trying to bend spoons with my mind. Clearly my path to perfection should be paved with mortar and brick rather than angel wings and bubbles. I was just going to have to do it the old fashion way - and wing it.

Then my boyfriend's friend announced that she was becoming a life coach. What is a life coach anyhow? An astrologer that knows how to organize a closet? A therapist with out that messy 4 year degree? Sounds like serious luxury item. Even a personal fitness trainer sounds pretty frou-frou to me. Can't you just work out on your own? I know. I know, it helps when someone else is there counting and encouraging. Sure - that's what the weak people say. What can a life coach tell me that I don't know already myself? What are her qualifications you ask? Well she was taking some courses and supposedly had a few clients. She was looking to work on someone for free. Did I mention it would be free? I was in.

She came over to my house for our first session. It was a little too early on a Sunday morning. I was trying to get a coffee down and found myself suddenly believing that I was going to be able to turn my entire life around after this session. She showed up. It was odd because we are friends - we've gone for cocktails, but there she was ready to deeply examine my life as a professional of sorts, and make some recommendations.

"How are you?" I asked and she told me that it was going to be all about me for the next little while. Okay. "So," she said softly and soothingly, "what would you like to make your six-month goal?" I was taken aback. Ah- just one? "How about find happiness?" I joked. "Okay," she replied not flinching. Great it was my old therapist all over again. "And what do you see as the specific steps to get you there?" One of my eyebrows arched. Was she playing along or calling me on it? So I started to rattle off a little list. You know - make more money doing what I love doing, find a better apartment, be consistent about the gym, be less mad at my boyfriend, connect more with my family, re-work my closet... She just nodded to every one of my general statements and wrote them down on a piece of paper. Then she paused, rescanned the list and looked at me dead in the eyes. "Let's start with the first one. So what are some things you can do this week to get you closer to that goal?" Whoa. What? This was starting to be hard work. Slow down sister! Remember it's me Ophira...from drinks at the bar? Remember the other night? Get off my back already, I'm trying!!! And then it occurred to me what this was all about. Accountability. I spend a lot of time thinking - you know, I need to sit down and make a list of all of my goals and try to figure out what I should do this month, this week, NOW to get closer to them. And then I realize I'm hungry or I see something shiny and I'm off in another direction. But now, with someone here, physically here, starring at me pen in hand, I couldn't veer off the road. I had no choice but to drive straight through it.

"Well I need to send out more tapes and headshots, god I need to get new headshots, I need to find out who a good headshot photographer is, and I need to save up some money for headshots..." Lists and lists of things I needed to do started falling out of my mouth. Then my life coach made me mark on a calendar the day I had to find a headshot photographer by and the day I would have the money saved by. Begrudgingly, I followed her instructions. I knew once I had all the tools in place and still nothing happened, I would have no choice but to blame myself. She had successfully called me on my bluff and I was a little angry about it.

The next day, after the dust settled, I found myself stapling a resume to a headshot so I could sent out a package and checkmark that off my list because my life coach was probably going to ask me about it next week. Wow -I was already seeing results. Now that's a coach! I wait for the next time I can have some more self-improvement crack. I called her to make another appointment. But she didn't call me back. For two weeks. My LIFE COACH didn't call me back for two weeks! I was rejected from the person that is sole purpose is to help me!! Turns out she was busy and feeling a little overwhelmed. Turns out life coaches are people too. Turns out I'm now unable to move forward without her there to pat me on the head for putting a stamp on an envelope or making a scary call. So I wait. I wait for her to respond to my panicky emails and begging voicemails. I wait for her to acknowledge me for checking something off on my to do list. And I know she'll be proud when I tell her I finally posted this blog. That is if she reads the email.