Where are the Wins? & Cockroach Wisdom

It's funny, as I think about many of the stories I share with you, I'm aware I often tell you about the hard stuff. Where I've fallen down. The times I question who I am, and whether I'm capable. I offer my odd noticings, and the tweaks they cause me to consider. I tell about the bumps, in this long road I've traveled, and the path I cannot see ahead.

When I reflect, the material sounds like a total bummer! Who would want to be coached by someone constantly navigating the rough spots; leaning into the uncomfortable emotions; and sharing about her growing edge? Where the heck are the wins? Why don't I spend every month telling you about how amazing my life has become? What if I explained what it's like to trust myself in ways I never imagined possible?

And then I realized, I'm sharing the whole journey with you. While I include some of the spectacular moments of my life, I believe it's important to reveal my humanity, even the parts I'm uncomfortable with. More often than not, the occasions I stumble, I learn something new! Those things I wish to avoid are exactly the parts I strive to befriend, because that's where the juicy forward movement emerges. I don't mean there's not value in celebrating the wins, because that absolutely matters. Still, that's rarely where the big growth happens, unless I'm learning how to celebrate successes.

Since this is not Facebook or Instagram, I refuse to mislead you, sweet audience, into believing I've got it all together. If I did, how could I possible know, remember, or relate to what you might be experiencing? If you seek me out for support, you act knowing your struggle is not foreign to me.

I treasure receiving guidance and care from folks who admit they don't have it all figured out, and yet, they've walked through fire. My best teachers have their own struggles, and willingly own them. Their vulnerability creates a safe place for me to explore the kinks in my system. They boldly face the darkness, so I know, if that's where I must sometimes travel, they willingly hold the flashlight for my benefit, rather than their own.

I know it can be uncomfortable to see the nakedness. If it's rung a bell of truth in you, I bet I've gotten a response from you at some point, either cheering me on or empathizing. Some wish I'd already conquered a particular battle, because it sets them ill at ease. Others seek to "fix it" for me, offering advice to move me along. And some just drop off the readership list.

I love all of these responses! Why? Because you offer me an insight into where you are at the moment. Perhaps unwittingly, you reveal a bit of your journey to me, and that is a precious gift. I know if you seek to "fix it" in me, you are likely doing (conscious or unconscious) business with the same kind of issue in you. When you wish I'd be just a little farther along the path, I imagine it might be uncomfortable to be around someone who doesn't "get it" yet, and still you are clear that the journey is my own. Or, it could be it's hard to hold someone on a pedestal, when she regularly evidences her feet of clay. For my cheerleaders and those sitting on the ledge beside me, I bet you've wobbled through some version of the haze I describe, and you know it's both miserable and rebelliously important, to move through it with wonder.

When attending Rob Bell's Something To Say workshop, he opened with a story he'd never told publicly. He explained, "the memory kept circling in my mind, when preparing for this group." Bell acknowledged it as a terrible tale, and dubbed it a perfect starting place. Why terrible? He shared about an experience when he royally mucked things up, and it cost him big time! He told about the assumptions he might have made about himself during that time of his life. "Had I expected to get everything right?" he queried. Rob talked about the importance of taking risks, as he had done, and how they have value, even when they blow up later. He asserted, "Every risk offers an opportunity to learn. How do you put a price on that?" And finally, he said, "Now that I've unpacked 'Rob Bell,' maybe I can actually help you." He allowed his vulnerability, his humanity, deconstructing the "idol" or "package" of 'Rob Bell,' and he gave us the vulnerable man himself.

Until I heard Bell talk about why he'd start that way, I'm not sure I consciously recognized my own underlying intention, of sharing my oft bummer musings with you. When he named it, though, a gong rung truly within, "Oh! I do that." In my way, I break down the image of what a Transition Coach and Life Guide is "supposed" to be, and give you me. My style is not meant to resonate with everyone. No one can be all things to all people, and I certainly would hate to try. You're still here, and I'm grateful for your company!

I realized, though, I sometimes forget to name the cockroach within me. When I retreated to Costa Rica in September, I stayed at the same cabin I've been visiting for years. I think of it as mine. This sacred space provided sanctuary for many kinds of growth, learning, and connection.

Casa Madera (house of wood) is just a couple of notches up from camping. For me, these represent imperatives: plumbing, a bed, and a kitchen - hooray! With that said, I've experienced all manner of creatures visiting me there. From bats, dancing with the ceiling fan and nibbling my bananas as nighttime snacks, to dead rats dragged in by one of the resident cats, as an evening meal. What I hadn't seen before were roaches, and let me tell you, in the jungle, they are monster-sized!

Within the first two days of my September stay, several gargantuan roaches, and a few ordinary sized ones made themselves known to me - much to my startled dismay. Two resided in a pitcher I'd used, many times past, for preparing iced tea. Another perched directly adjacent the bathroom light switch - I almost touched it (eeek!!!), and it didn't move a smidgen! These suckers were serious. A couple of smaller cousins chased shadows around the table, while I wrote one evening on the open-air porch.

Blind-sided as I was, I could not ignore their presence. For years, I've reached for guidance from animal messengers. Typically, I pick up Jamie Sams and David Carson's, Medicine Cards book, except, they don't include cockroaches among their creature list. Still, I wondered if these icky insects invited me to attend to something I'd been ignoring.

With a bit of research, I discovered roaches represent resilience. "...cockroaches have survived for over 300 million years. From a spiritual perspective, the fact that the cockroach can live even through a nuclear war indicates that you are a true fighter ready to face your battles and challenges. Seeing multiple cockroaches in the home spiritually implies you will have the strength and courage and above all the resilience for a new start in life. "

For all my tumbles, questions, and doubts, I seem to be incapable of ignoring the cockroach within. Even in my darkest moments, when death appeared seductive, a part of me said, "Okay, this sucks, and it's my growing edge, so I'm finding a way through."

I once heard Elizabeth Gilbert say, "In the worst of when Raya (her partner) was dying...it was so awful...horrible...and I remember going out of our apartment one day, and I was so broken - walking down 10th Street, just destroyed, and starting to pray...and the weirdest fucking prayer bubbled up within me...I can barely even say now, because it was so weird, but it was so true and so exciting. 'Make this even worse for me. Whatever you're doing, just do it. Don't half kill me. Whatever you're trying to make me into, through this, do it 100%. Do it! Grind me into dust, and let's do this 'cause I don't see, yet, what this is that you're trying to teach me, because this is horrible. So you're gonna have to make it worse, so I can see and get the point of what it is I'm supposed to be learning or growing into. Because, right now, this is just medium hell. So I'm gonna need you to dial it up!'I meant it... And it got worse...and the great thing about that prayer is that, when it gets worse, you're like 'Oh yeah!' Finally it happened. In the shards, I saw it. 'Ok! This is what you're asking me to shed. This is what I can no longer be. This is the me that has to die now. I'm on it. Got it.'And it turned from there."

While I aspire to Gilbert's level of audacity, I believe with each challenge in my path - the ones I think will break me and the ones, over which, I merely trip - I reach for my inner cockroach, to scour for the lesson within the struggle. Maybe that’s my biggest win as a coach and guide. By leaning into the resilience in me, I'm empowered to reflect a mirror of that gift in you. With your invitation, I hold the flashlight in your dark corners, with honor. I support you manifesting into your best self of this moment, holding space for shedding the beliefs and identities no longer serving you.

What a gift those cockroaches shared - helping me to see the ebb and flow of my stumbles and wins. Cockroach Coaching...nah...that's a terrible name! But I'll accept the lesson gratefully.

With love and resilience,

Joanne Lutz