I am known for—and know myself to be—a growth addict.
For some reason, I can often see where others get stuck in their creation of prosperity, happiness, awareness, joy, love or business. I listen carefully, and I have come to recognize that most of us don’t realize we have an already-always way of thinking.
We may genuinely want something in our lives to change, but we haven’t a clue how to change it. So we tend to do what we’ve always done, only to discover we’re going to get what we’ve always gotten.
To me, coaching can be a miraculous experience. As the coach, I become almost invisible. Rather than telling someone what to do, I ask stimulating questions that cause them to think—to discover for themselves what they truly want in this lifetime and what may be standing in their way.
We train our bodies through thought.
Let’s say I decide I want to join a gym, quit eating sugar, stop drinking alcohol, or change some other behavior. Perhaps I’ve tried several times before. I start, then stop because the new behavior doesn’t fit what I’m used to. Eventually, those patterns become habits that seem to live in my body.
We tend to believe that because we’ve decided to change something, our thoughts—and then our behavior—will automatically follow. But deciding something and changing an established habit are two very different things.
I’m not saying this is true for everyone, but I believe it is true for the majority of us when we set a new goal.
I’ve spent my entire career studying these habits of thought and looking for the easiest ways to create genuine change in mind, body and heart.
That is where the power of knowing becomes so important.
Read more: We Already Know What to Do. So Why Aren’t We Doing It?
Awareness is knowing.
It is centering the mind in the present moment and having the humility to realize that we may not know how something works—or how to create what we want next. That realization gives us the freedom to establish a new perspective, a new desire and a new tomorrow.
This is where the great questions—Who? What? Where? When? How?—become a springboard for change.
A good coach digs into a person’s dreams and helps bring them forward with a realistic and tangible belief that the future they envision is already in the process of becoming possible.
I believe that if you can genuinely dream something, it has entered your reality as a possibility. Belief in self grows from becoming aware of our personal strengths, understanding what we are here to learn, and allowing ourselves to become all that we can see is possible.
Read more: Your Power Within: Letting the Right Question Lead You Home
There was one experience early in my career that changed the direction of my life.
I was enjoying tremendous success with a company I worked with when a remarkable man named Pope McDonald came to Boston to spend some time with our team. I had been told that Pope had an unusual ability to see beyond where people were and help them see what might be possible.
He gathered ten of us in a room and asked each person a simple question:
“What do you want?”
One by one, people talked about their goals. Some wanted recognition. Some wanted money. As he got closer to me, I became increasingly uncomfortable. I already had success and recognition. What was I going to say?
Then I heard, “Lynette… Lynette.”
Without thinking, I blurted out: “I want a child!”
There it was. That was what I really wanted.
My husband and I had been married for nine years and had talked about starting a family. But he wanted us settled in a house first—and not just any house. He wanted a beautiful view with sparkling city lights at night.
For two years I had searched throughout central Massachusetts. Realtors practically laughed at me. “Lady, what you want doesn’t exist.”
I told Pope the whole story. He listened, walked slowly across the room, bent down until he was looking directly into my eyes and said:
“Well then, they’re going to have to move a mountain to Worcester for Lynette Monopoli.”
Something happened inside me at that moment. All the doubt and all the reasons people had given me for why it couldn’t happen suddenly seemed small and insignificant.
Then Pope gave me an assignment: Write down exactly what you want.
How large is the property? How many trees? How far from the city? What kind of view? What kind of house? How many windows? What color? What school system? And exactly how much are you prepared to pay?
I went home with a notebook and enrolled my husband in the exercise. At first, he thought it was silly. Eventually, he got into the game with me.
For two weeks we kept adding to that notebook until what we wanted became so clear we could practically see it.
Then one afternoon I stopped for tea with a friend. She asked what was new, and I described the land we were looking for. She casually said, “Oh, that’s around the corner. I know it well.”
I left my tea sitting on her table, jumped into my car and followed her directions to Potter Hill Road.
As I drove up the winding road, suddenly the trees opened and the light exploded around me. There were acres of farmland and corn. New England church steeples peeked through the trees below. In the distance were mountains, rolling hills and the city—the very city whose lights would sparkle at night.
It existed.
At the top of the hill was a small house. I got out of my car, walked to the door and knocked. A lovely woman named Eleanor answered.
I looked her straight in the eyes and, without having any idea where the words came from, said: “My name is Lynette, and I think the Lord sent me.”
What I didn’t know was that Eleanor and her husband, Wesley, had been praying that a young couple would come to them and offer to buy a piece of their farm.
That evening my husband and I returned. Eventually Wesley looked at us and warned, “If I sell you a piece of this farm, it’s going to cost you an arm and a leg.”
I took a breath and asked, “How much?”
He thought for a moment. “$10,000.”
I could hardly believe what I had heard. $10,000 was the exact amount my husband and I had written in our notebook two weeks earlier.
I jumped up and said, “We’ll take it!”
We bought the land. We built the house. And we had our child.
But it took me some time to understand the most important part of what had happened. The house wasn’t the goal. The land wasn’t the goal. The real goal was having Jessica. The house and land were simply the pathway toward what I truly wanted.
That experience changed the direction of my career.
I became fascinated with what happens when people become crystal clear about what they really want. I wanted to understand the habits of thought that keep us stuck, why we so easily accept other people’s definitions of what is possible, and what happens when someone asks us the right questions.
I spent the next four decades studying those questions and working with people as a leadership coach.
And underneath all of it remains the same deceptively simple question Pope asked me in that room so many years ago:
What do you want?
Because if we don’t know where we’re going, we can spend a lifetime wandering.
We start with the end in mind.
Read more: Crystal Clear Clarity · A Goal Will Lead You to Success
I generally begin with three questions:
How much? How many? By when?
With retirees, I sometimes ask another question that surprises them: “Have you decided how long you’re going to live?”
Most people haven’t. But here’s what I know: if we have no future to step into, we can begin wandering almost aimlessly into a life that becomes reactive. Instead of creating our lives, we simply accept whatever life serves us.
I decided years ago that I’m living to 105. I say it repeatedly. That decision gives me a future to live toward. People sometimes wonder why I have so much energy and why I appear younger than my age. I believe part of it is that I’m still creating tomorrow.
If someone tells me, “But Lynette, I really don’t know what I want,” I suggest a very simple exercise. Pick up a travel magazine, a cruise brochure, or simply start looking at photographs of places and experiences around the world. Don’t analyze them. Notice what catches your eye.
When something does, stop. Look at it. Let yourself imagine it. Tear out the picture or save it.
That’s a beginning.
Then we start asking: How much? How many? By when?
One of the dangers after retirement—or anytime the structure we’ve lived with disappears—is what I call the lazy mind. Without schedules, goals and something meaningful pulling us forward, it is remarkably easy to fall into the habit of doing less, thinking less and expecting less from ourselves.
I don’t believe retirement should mean retiring from creating a future.
Start with one year. Then three years. Then five. Write down objectives that are specific, measurable, attainable, realistic and tangible. Give your mind somewhere to go and something to begin looking for.
That’s only the beginning. But it is the beginning of turning dreams into a future you can actually see yourself living.
There’s an old saying: “If we don’t use it, we lose it.”
I believe that applies to the mind as much as anything else. Exercising our minds means continuing to expand—developing our unique skills, widening our circle of friends, exploring places we’ve never been, learning something unfamiliar, or even trying a recipe we’ve never made before.
It doesn’t have to be something enormous. The point is to keep introducing newness into our lives.
When we stop being curious, stop stretching ourselves and simply repeat yesterday over and over again, the mind can become lazy.
Every time we learn, explore, create or try something different, we expand our thinking. And that gives us an opportunity to create a new beginning every day.
Read more: My Lazy Mind Syndrome
The very first thing I ask is:
“How do I win your trust?”
Without trust, we’re not going very far.
Then I ask them to do something unusual. I say: “Imagine we’re standing one year from today. Look back over the last 12 months and describe to me what you see you’ve done.”
I give them seven areas of life to consider: Mental, Physical, Spiritual, Family, Financial, Social and Career. Then I ask them to choose three.
I don’t ask, “What do you hope will happen?” I ask them to look backward from that future point and describe what has already happened. What did you accomplish? What changed? What does your life look like?
My job isn’t to decide those answers for someone. My job is to ask the questions that help them discover their own answers and begin making the future tangible.
That’s also why trust comes first. If you’re going to allow me into your dreams, your fears and the places where you may be getting in your own way, you need to know that I am there to help you discover your life—not to impose mine on you.
I work with what I call the Five Stages of Learning.
A good coach understands these stages and recognizes where the person is in the process. That requires trust.
I need to know when to step in, when to back off and let someone ride their own bike, so to speak, and when they need me to be firm and loving at the same time.
Ultimately, I don’t want someone dependent upon me. I want them to reach the point where they have developed the awareness, confidence and mastery to continue creating without me.
Read more: The 5 Stages of Mastery
To learn more about the path that shaped her, read the History of Lynette M. Robbins, or explore her work as an author, speaker and consultant. For more of her ideas, visit Insights for Success.
If these questions have you thinking about what you want next, Lynette would be glad to hear from you through her contact page.
