Reluctance

Depending on the day, I'm a reluctant life coach and a reluctant mother. Sometimes I've felt like a reluctant wife, housekeeper, business owner, and writer. At times I'm a reluctant expat and others a reluctant American. I'm reluctant to stay home and reluctant to hit the road. Reluctant to change and reluctant to stay the same. There are times I'm a reluctant sister, daughter, aunt, cousin, and friend. And always, always, I'm a reluctant human.

It doesn't mean that I don't do what's required of me in those roles or participate in those aspects of life. And it doesn't mean that I don't love them or get over-the-moon excited about them. But it also doesn't mean that I have to accept or embrace every aspect of them. I don't have to love them all the time.

It's good to question what's in front of us. To question our beliefs and the way we think the world works. Confidence is rarely a bad thing, but introspection and self-reflection are just as important.

I saw a quote recently on social media. I can't recall where it came from or who said it or the exact wording...this is going great, isn't it? Anyway, it said "God grant me the confidence of a 25-year-old life coach." If I wasn't occasionally reluctant about my job as a life coach, I wouldn't question anything about it. I'd dive in, head first without surveying the situation - without understanding the context. I'd be cavalier and that wouldn't serve me or my clients.

My reluctance in my relationships means I pick them more carefully and tend to them more conscientiously - which leads to me appreciating them more fully.

My reluctance as a parent translates to an awareness that we all have a different relationship with parenting {whether we are one or not} and that my path may not be yours.

My reluctance has helped me find ways to enjoy my roles more, delegating pieces that don't suit me.

My reluctance about my physical place in the world leads to an openness in accepting others as they are - both at home and abroad.

But most of all my reluctance gives me pause. It gives me permission to stop. To put down everything I've picked up. And to listen.

So, consider this an invite to let in a little reluctance. A bit of questioning. A touch of pause.