Who's Turf Is It anyway?
Posted on February 27, 2011 by Joan Shepherd, One of Thousands of Life Coaches on Noomii.
When we cling to good things, we not only choke them to death but render ourselves incapable of embracing all the effusive grandeur in the present.
I started working with a new client earlier this week. A delightful man in his early 60’s who has been married for 40 some years, has a child in med school, and is a tenured professor in the math department of a large mid-western university.
Fred*had recently visited his primary care doc for an annual check up. He had a few aches and pains—he’s an avid golfer and tennis player—but aside from that, he was doing OK… Except for the nagging anxiety he has been experiencing for the past several months.
The climate at Fred’s workplace was changing with the arrival of a new university president at the beginning of the school year. He was becoming obsessed with thoughts that his ‘turf was being invaded.’ It was resulting in him being angry and defensive, feelings he’d never had before in this job that he had loved for many years. And, for the first time in his life, his blood pressure was elevated.
His doc suggested anti-depressants and a blood pressure medication.
Fred wanted to explore a different approach before committing to medication.
When we talked about how the thought “My turf is being invaded” had started to take up a pretty big piece of real estate in Fred’s mind, he was also able to see many cases where he was gathering evidence to support this belief. His anger at co-workers and defensiveness about his expertise seemed justified…but he wasn’t enjoying his students or his research like he used to. And he was bringing it home, chasing growing back aches with a little gin and tonic each night.
I asked Fred if he could generate examples where maybe his turf wasn’t being violated. He quickly came up with several examples. Pretty easy to gather evidence to support the thought: My turf is not being invaded.
Going a little further we focused on the word ‘my’. It became pretty clear to Fred that he’d become incredibly attached to his position, his office, his achievements, his story.
Holding tightly to anything is like trying to keep a sand castle intact while the tide is smiling and rolling in.. Only change is constant. Gripping and white knuckled clinging—trying to prevent the past or the familiar from changing— cuts you off from seeing all the good that’s happening now.
What is constant and what is Fred’s real turf, is his inner, essential self: the loving, creative, intelligent, teaching, learning, joyful dude—-without the ego.
Even with phone coaching, the energy released with these revelations swept across those magical miles of filaments and blew my hair with a gentle stir.
Can’t wait to see what’s next for Fred.
*You know I always change up the details for the sake of anonymity, and with my clients’ permission.
