On Being Unstoppable

Last week, I visited the webpage of a coaching school someone I know is considering. On the school’s homepage, a graduate of the program boasted that the school’s methodology had enabled her to teach her clients to be “unstoppable.” And that stopped me, right in my tracks.

The nature of being human is that we are eminently stoppable. Our very biology gives us natural limits to how hard we can push. We need to breathe, to drink, eat, and sleep. We crave touch, the sun, fresh air, and communication. Our bodies are covered in a soft flesh–relatively defenseless with no claws or sharp teeth. We bleed and heal. Our reproductive cycle gives us utterly helpless young, demanding that we stop and take notice and care for these vulnerable creatures. And, of course, we die–the ultimate full stop. Death comes for us all with no regard for how hard we try to push it back. To be human is to be stoppable.

And yet we seek to be unstoppable.

Life should be able to stop us. If not for beauty, then for heartbreak. If not for the joy of seeing a tree’s stark branches waving against a gray winter sky, then for the horror of seeing people starving to death in our own rich cities or drowning to death on the shores of Europe. If not for the pleasure of a beloved piece of music, then for the despair of another mass shooting. If not for the happiness on the face of a dear friend or family member, then for the agony present  when they suffer or when we let them down. Let life be present to us. Let it stop us.

To be unstoppable is to be blind to what is happening all around us. To be unstoppable is to refuse to notice the effect that progress–at any cost–might have on our relationships, our bodies, and our spiritual life. To be unstoppable is to deny our own biology. To deny our hearts and the beautiful web of relationships that surround us.

Sometimes the world demands a response. And sometimes the only response is to pause. To be stricken. To be soft. To take a moment to laugh, or to cry, or to hold someone’s hand. A moment of noticing how angry we are, or how sad, or how–this is the really hard one–how numb we’ve become.  And cultivating the ability to be stopped takes deep work.

It requires relational sensitivity to know when our families, colleagues, and friends need us to downshift and approach them in a new, more attentive way. It requires somatic wisdom to be able to sense our energy status and get a clear reading on what our bodies need. It takes emotional awareness to stay present in strong emotions while also noticing the emotional states of others. And, finally, the ability to stop often takes great bravery as it will likely be questioned by those who would not dare question the cultural value of being unstoppable.

In my coaching practice, I do not seek to teach clients to be unstoppable because I believe it is deeply problematic, even dangerous. What happens when you teach your client to be unstoppable, and their family and friends need them to stop because they have been neglecting their relational responsibilities? What happens when you have an entire culture of unstoppable people, and the culture next door needs them to stop because they are encroaching on ancestral lands? What happens when you have an entire planet of unstoppable people, and the environment is begging them to stop because species are going extinct and the land is being polluted?

Can you see where being unstoppable can lead? Do you see where it has already led?

Instead, I believe that we must learn to listen to the call of the world, to our loved ones, and to our bodies–to stop. In the coaching relationship, mutual trust and mutual respect create a strong container wherein clients can examine their relied upon, habitual responses. Over time, they become better at recognizing the persistent ‘turning away’ that is pandemic in modern society and eventually they learn to cultivate a new response. This requires learning new skills and competencies: patience, compassion, resilience, discernment, and the ability to self-observe, to name a few. I’ve seen clients, over time, become more resilient and able to stand in deep witness to their own emotional experience; to be stopped by the world, and to be touched by it. They have the freedom to experience their own reactions without becoming overwhelmed. This, in turn, affords them the opportunity to make choices that were unavailable to them before.

Today, let a small part of yourself be broken by this heartbreaking and fragile world. What might happen if you opened yourself up enough for this to occur? What meaning might leak into your life if you dared? Find out.


Balance is bonkers. Integration is the pro move.

As a life coach, I get a lot of queries from people who are interested in improving their work-life balance; people who are exhausted and unfulfilled and feel certain that if they could just steady the cosmic see-saw then they would achieve a sense of satisfaction.

To which I say: Bullshit.

A life lived in submission to balance is a life that separates and categorizes things. Work and play?–not the same. Spirituality and relationships?–two wholly different concerns. Physical health and cultural health?–nothing to do with each other. Separate. Categorize. Compartmentalize. Give each area its own individual time and attention in order to achieve some equilibrium. Everything in the name of BALANCE! It’s no wonder we’re so exhausted when we’ve created a zillion different concerns and domains that need tending. And because we view everything as separate, feeding one will not feed another. In fact, it actually depletes attention from the other things. The pie gets smaller and smaller. The pot of available resources dwindles.

So, if the end goal is balance then we are doomed to fail because the energetic relationships between all the areas in our lives will never be equal. But if we focus on INTEGRATION then everything changes.

When we abandon balance and strive for integration then everything becomes related–one expression of our purpose and desire. Things are intertwined and working together in a way that allows them to feed each other, in the same way that streams feed the rivers that feed the ocean. No longer will we feel so desperately unfulfilled when we cannot devote as much attention to any one aspect of our lives because with integration that aspect can still find expression and nourishment elsewhere.

For example, let’s say you’re having a crazy busy week and getting to your regular physical practice of Aikido is the only extracurricular activity you have time for. Luckily, Aikido also appeals to you on a spiritual level so there’s no need to feel desolate about missing your other regular spiritual practice (i.e., meditation group, church service, sabbat dinner, women’s circle, etc). Additionally, you’ve also taken the time to get to know the people in your Aikido class by spending some time with them before and after sessions. This helps you feel connected to community even though you won’t have a chance to get together with close friends over the next few days. With integration in mind, now you leave this class having satisfied three of the things that are most important to you: connecting to your body, your spirit, and your community. And you did it all in one place!

Integration is about living a life in which all of our actions are done in service to the same thing. It requires thinking of our lives and our bodies as a system. A system in which all that we think and all that we do are connected. This is a key premise of Integral Coaching–that our whole lives and our whole selves matter. There are no parts of ourselves, or our lives, that are unimportant or discardable. Not even those 8 hours a day we trade for a paycheck!

What would happen for you if you got off the balance beam? If you lived your life in a more integral way, what would be at the core of everything you did? What would you live your life in service of? And let’s be grand here–truth, beauty, healing, love, family, compassion.  Big words make for big lives.