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.

Recently, a friend asked me to share a piece of wisdom that has been a powerful force in my life. I explained that wisdom isn’t just knowledge—it’s metabolized insight we share with others. From “This, too, shall pass” to learning to become anti-fragile, these are lessons that guide how I navigate challenges, presence, and growth.

Recently, a friend asked me to share a piece of wisdom that has been a powerful force in my life. I explained that wisdom isn’t just knowledge—it’s metabolized insight we share with others. From “This, too, shall pass” to learning to become anti-fragile, these are lessons that guide how I navigate challenges, presence, and growth.

Personality is a myth. From childhood, we’re led to believe that who we are is fixed—but in truth, we are what we practice deliberately. Through consistent actions and a growth mindset, we can shape our habits, our behaviors, and ultimately, the Self we choose to become.

Lately, I’ve been reflecting on how certain emotions can feel like companions—uninvited ones that linger longer than expected. After losing my best friend of 40 years, I discovered that grief isn’t like other difficult emotions. It requires connection, care, and presence, and in learning to honor it, I found unexpected compassion, love, and generosity in my own life.

It took me back to my own high school graduation. I remember feeling just as grown-up, confident, capable, and eager for what was next. Only now, with hindsight, can I see how unprepared I truly was for adult life's complexities. I had plenty of information, but very little wisdom. So, decades later, I've reflected on what I wish I'd known back then.

The more time I spend outdoors, the deeper I fall in love with trees. Trees are the wisest teachers a human can have. Trees are everything I aspire to become. Trees are patient. Trees are generous. Trees don't question their worthiness or mine. Trees grow underground networks to help other trees thrive.

Is there something magical about Transformational Coaching? At first, it can feel that way. You start in a place that seems almost impossible to change—and somehow, you end up somewhere entirely different. Even when your external circumstances remain the same, everything has changed. But those of us who've experienced this kind of magic know it's anything but.