I Coach Trouble Makers

And it takes one to know one.

Image by Scott Schell

I was trying to get out of the backseat of my mom’s Volvo station wagon. My too-big L.L Bean backpack was stuck in the too-small opening between the door and the seat. The thick heat of our musty garage against my plaid uniform felt like stepping into a panic attack. I wanted to get out of there, but I was still struggling with my bag. And I must have been talking about something. I don’t remember what. What I do remember is my mom’s friend, who was already free of the car, laughing and smiling at me when she replied, “Meghann, when you grow up, you’re gonna be a comedian or a nun.”

I’d never felt gotten before.

And that’s what I do now. I get people.

. . .

I’m an integral coach. People come to me because of a behavior that is causing them pain. One client wants to stop saying yes before they can even feel their no. Another wants to be able to stay longer and calmer in critical conversations with her staff. And another wants to stop exhausting themselves by rising to meet an extroverted workplace and dishonoring their needs for a quiet process. And that’s the sole focus of our work together. We spend about six months building the new muscles they need to get free of a habit that is causing them pain—and start leading, and living, with more authenticity and power.

I also support leaders and teams who want to feel and perform their best—together. And that’s not an easy thing to do.

I think our cultural commitment to being good and doing things the right way becomes a straight jacket that prevents us from being authentic. And trouble makers really struggle with a straight jacket. They get really itchy in there and need to bust out. They want to be with other people who can move their arms—and perform their best.

The sneaky truth about trouble makers is that they don’t actually want trouble. And I think we are in terrible need of their unique brand of leadership.

It’s much easier to get out of a straight jacket with someone else helping you. And my favorite thing is making it easier for folks. That’s why I coach. It doesn’t have to be so hard. And we don’t have to do it alone. Sometimes it can even be fun.

The nun in me has a devotion to what is bigger than us and unfolding through us. And the comedian in me knows it is just as important to be devotional as it is to be irreverent. And every good and deep transformational change process really needs a good dose of both.

Laughing makes everything more workable.

Laughing literally loosens us up because it soaks up cortisol and dumps dopamine and oxytocin into our bloodstream. In this state, we can be with the absurdities of this world. And let go of our painfully myopic views. When we feel good and connected from a good belly laugh, it’s easier to embrace and bless the magnitude of what is happening.

. . .

I spent my twenties living a mini version of my dad’s career on fast forward. My dad was a fighter pilot in Vietnam. And then he was a program manager and a consultant for the Department of Defense. I graduated from the Air Force Academy, spent a year in Italy as a student pilot, and another four years in Boston as a program manager for the Department of Defense. Once I got my dad’s career out of my system, I spent a decade in Afghanistan and Anglophone Africa as a management consultant in global health. And then I realized I was still kinda doing his career, only wearing different clothes.

I spent a lot of my 30s in transition. I learned to surf. I taught yoga. I trained as a midwife. And discovered integral coaching. I said yes when my boyfriend asked me to ride a motorcycle across Mongolia. And became a mom. For the first time in my life, I started doing the same things at the same time every day. And then I started writing like my keyboard would catch on fire if I stopped.

As a coach in my 40s I still love writing about my healing. It tunes my guiding fork. And helps me feel connected our collective consciousness. I suppose that’s my inner nun.

Another word for a nun and a comedian is also a poet. And all my favorite poets are trouble makers.

. . .

I work with individuals and teams who want to feel and perform their best. Read more about me and book time here.