Coaching & poetry during the apocalypse

…diary pages from my morning pages on a train ride:

There is a man on my phone. He's handcuffed himself to a stage where oil CEOs are speaking about climate change. He is screaming at the top of his lungs: 

WE ARE NOT RUNNING OUT OF TIME,

WE ARE OUT OF TIME.

THREE MORWE DEGREES BY 2060

IS A WORLD ENDING NUMBER. 

And fuck, I can’t breathe.

I can feel it.

The shift.

Can you?

The clock ticking

on the insanity

of this humanity.

Not just putting ourselves in so much danger

But letting this beautiful planet die.

Have you seen the mountains, the glaciers, the waterfalls, the deserts, the canyons, the rivers, the beaches, the seas, the islands?

Have you noticed that our love of all things shiny comes from the way the water sparkles under the sun?

I can’t fucking breathe.

I understand bravery now.

Why people risk everything for the right cause.

Because what else is there?

Starving children in Gaza.

Drowning children in Texas.

Are we going to save ourselves?

Are we going to fucking stop?

I spent so much of the last two years not wanting to live.

Now I’m desperately for the heart of this world to keep beating.

With me inside of it.

I know the world’s burning and rights are being stripped and there are days where everything feels fucking pointless.

So I’m not here to tell you “be creative as a distraction” or “ignore it and be creative”. I’m here to tell you be creative to help yourself survive this, and to process the avalanche of emotions we’re having to navigate.

I’m not here to tell you “hire me as your coach and we’ll work on your goals as if the world isn’t ending.”

I’m here to tell you that if you want to invest in some meaningful support for your creative and personal journey while the world is burning around us, every single feeling you have about it will be a part of our journey.