It’s probably a bad idea for your spouse to be your life coach, right?

I’m asking because Sam recently became mine.

And by “Sam recently became my life coach,” what I mean is that when I’m a bit Gail-the-snail-ish – curled up in a shell of snively suffering, hiding from Dee as she tries to throw salt on me – Sam reliably steps in with sage counsel.

Technically, he steps in with an insightful question because life coaches worth their salt (salt being a positive in this case) don’t give advice, they ask a question with the power to transform your life.

And the question my life coach/spouse asks me is, “Do I need to send you your morning musing from October 5th?”

Then I go look at my morning musing from whatever day he referred to and remember what I knew.

Because Sam, husband extraordinaire to Enneagram type 5s with a strong 4 wing named Keely, knows one thing for sure:

Ain’t no one I’m more likely to listen to than myself.

And, the beauty of the 100+ blog posts I built up during my fall/winter prolific creative period is this: they are all now available for me when I need to remember what I know.

Because for this particular bundle of nature and nurture…that changes. Things I knew yesterday when I was basking in the afterglow of the particularly nourishing beach walk – those aren’t the same things I knew an hour ago, when I was trapped in a decidedly NOT nourishing rumination cycle and my mind was picking me apart.

Sam used to be confused by that. “Why are you doing this?!” he would ask, frustrated as I did something that was clearly against my best interest. “You write these empowered posts about how ‘you can’t pour from an empty cup’ and make a compelling case for prioritizing inner peace above all else…but I’m watching as you’re actively choosing to make decisions from a place of obligation. Aren’t you supposed to be the anti-martyr?!”

Eventually, I learned how to explain it. “What’s going on,” I told my handsome hubby, “Is that the things I write about are true when I’m writing about them.”

“But what’s also true,” I continued, “Is that when I’m writing, my highest self is directing the show.”

Writing is, for me, a powerful form of meditation. The Keely who’s at the keyboard typing away – she’s reliably in a flow state. She’s living in a relaxed body with a regulated nervous system, one that has access to calm, cool and collected mental and emotional processing.

The Keely that just got off the phone and said yes to something that she should have said no to? She wasn’t calm, cool and collected. People stress me out in a way that sitting alone at my computer doesn’t. One day, that won’t be true (probably after the series of TRE sessions that I plan on doing this week). But for now – it still is.

And…how helpful is it to know that?

To know that there are times when I’m reliably calm, cool and collected, given to making decisions that align with my highest values.

And to also know that there are times when I’m not that way, when I’m more likely to make decisions from a place of people pleasing or distress or whatever conditioning happens to be arising in that moment.

So here I am – fingers on the keyboard, writing my way into inner peace. And wouldn’t you know? It worked! (The yoga probably didn’t hurt either.)

Thanks coach.