Linda has everything she once dreamed of—a beautiful home, financial freedom, and a loving family. She's deeply grateful for all of it. And yet, in quiet moments, a voice whispers: "I want more." Immediately, another voice responds: "You should be grateful for what you have. Who do you think you are, wanting more?" Does this sound familiar?

When I was a newbie Coach, fresh out of school—three of them actually—I was certain good coaching was all about helping my clients develop productive skills and habits. Soon after, I realized that all the skill and habit-building in the world doesn’t make a real difference if we don’t address the limiting—and often harmful—mindsets that hold people back from reaching their goals.

Perk up your ears and notice how often you hear yourself say "I'm so stupid." Most of us do it without consciousness. But there's a Self inside us that deserves recognition—one that wants a deep and meaningful conversation with us, like we do with a life partner. When we call the Self "stupid," we steal its ability to grow and learn. "Stupid" is not a real thing—it's an excuse to not be conscious and not do the work.

When kids are young, we love to tell them what not to do. Research shows that an average toddler hears the word “no” around 400 times a day! A more conservative study estimates the number at 8,395 per year, or an average of 23 per day. Whichever study you choose to believe, it’s evident we LOVE to say no, don’t, and can’t to our kids. And that’s not a good thing.

What do you give a woman who has everything? Perhaps, a ball of dough? I grudgingly admit that I am a terrible gift receiver. I worked in the 'material' world for so long that more 'things' just make me anxious, not happy. Like so many of you in my community, I have never wanted for anything material.

If you describe yourself as driven, high-achieving and ambitious, you've probably drunk the Kool-Aid—and you're dealing with a hangover that never seems to go away. After four decades of chasing "more, faster, better," I discovered the hard way that this path doesn't lead to success. It leads to burnout. This is what I learned about the counterintuitive damage of endless ambition, and how "enough" is actually a decision—not a feeling.

Conviction is the ability to be so staunch about an idea that it causes you to reject anything that is not that idea. Most of us are deathly afraid to have conviction. We fear being called radical or ignorant. We don't want to lose followers or offend. But people with solid convictions make a difference in the world. To have conviction is to decide who you are, what you're doing, and where you're going—and keep that stake in the ground at all costs.

At least once a week, I'm approached by someone eager to create a career as a Professional Coach. Before you invest time and money in certification programs, here are twelve hard truths about what it really takes to build a thriving coaching practice—and the non-negotiable qualities you'll need to succeed.

Recently, I wrote a blog about tradeoffs. I expected it to be a sleeper blog—one I found deeply important but not likely to generate much excitement. To my surprise, it struck a nerve with many readers and listeners. The most common response? People wanted to know if I could share more ways to become a true “Master of Tradeoffs.”

Years ago, one of the first principles I learned from my coach, Steve Chandler, was to transform expectations into agreements. This practice shifted my life from disappointments and resentments to one of ease and lightness. Strong words, I know. But true. Most of us, without realizing it, live inside expectations most of the time.

Tradeoffs are something we are forever at odds with. They are as much a fact of life as gravity, yet we seem unable to come to terms with them. For most of us, the word carries a negative connotation, living in the same unwelcome neighborhood as sacrifice, compromise, and other things that, at best, are tolerated but never welcomed.

Even if a coach has a niche, every client is still unique. They may benefit from similar lessons, but each requires a tool made just for them. That tool often arises from the coach’s own gifts and passions. Mine is “Mothering”—a thread running through my coaching, whether I’m guiding a young woman into adulthood or a man in his sixties toward growth.

For most of my adult life, I’ve worshipped at the altar of Optimization. My motto has always been “Faster and Better”—the question being, “How can I optimize this moment to reach my goal sooner?” If you follow my work, you’re likely a growth-minded learner aware of mortality who wants every moment to count.

We must have a clear understanding of black and white before we can understand what creates the color gray. Our mind must grasp the difference between two concepts—concepts that can easily be confused—before it can form its own nuanced understanding. Use this formula to teach yourself, your children, and your teams, and you'll see how effective it is.

It's not unusual for me to start a coaching session by asking, "What would make this conversation extraordinary for you?" That's because coaching is all about going from good to great—ordinary to extraordinary. But ironically, my greatest hope and wish for my clients, loved ones, and myself is to be consistently blessed with the ordinary.

What are the one or two questions you are asked most often? These questions reveal your priorities and values. In my life, two come up repeatedly: “What’s Life Coaching?” and “Why do you do Ultramarathon races?” Both illuminate how I cultivate confidence, face challenges, and expand my ability to do hard things.

Let me start by sharing a truth about parenting I’ve come to believe in wholeheartedly: “You can’t get it right.” Humility is the destination, and parenting is the most direct path to get there. Even when you think you’ve mastered one child, another will remind you how little you know, offering lessons in patience, perspective, and love.

“Why so hard on yourself?” I asked my not-yet-client, Linda.
In one of our first discovery conversations, I look for those hidden signs that someone is truly ready to change. Over years of coaching women of all ages, I’ve seen a pattern: a deep internal judgment—especially of self—playing out silently, though felt loudly.

Carolyn, how do you balance healthy self-interest with the need to be fully present for those you care about?” a reader asked. His question arrived after I shared my conflict during a family visit in Lake Tahoe—feeling grateful yet stretched thin between work, parenting, and home life. Somehow, wherever I was, I felt I should be somewhere else.

“You’re like the human AI!” a client texted me after another book recommendation. The truth is, I’ve always been a reader—but the insights that shaped my life and coaching came not from endless consumption, but from learning how to digest what I read. Information only becomes wisdom when we engage with it, reflect on it, and apply it in our lives.