I have the great privilege of knowing one of the top coaches in the UK - better still, I have the greater privilege of calling her my friend: Lynette Allen. All you women out there, I strongly encourage you to get in touch with Lynette (and no, she doesn't pay me referral fees :0).

In her own blog, she tells the moving story of her Father's lost watch.  This story moved me. It also made me think. This is what I wrote to her as a result:

"Yesterday, I forgot (nothing unusual there!) to say how much the
story you wrote about your father's watch moved me. I found it both
profoundly beautiful and of course a little magical too. Beautiful
because the extent to which you and your family went to find the
watch bears testimony to the love you all felt for your father.
Magical for obvious reasons: the medium's description of the watch's
whereabouts was unexpectedly spot on.

On a different level, I also feel the story of your father's watch is
a powerful metaphor for life that is relevant to coaching. How often
do we or our clients kill ourselves to get something, only to realise
that we already have it, if only we remembered where to look ....
Perhaps, amongst other things,  the coach's job is to help us and our clients remember."

Being the darling she is, Lynette was very complimentary about my comment. I sometimes feel I could write the greatest gibberish and she would still tell me that I am wonderful. Such is the delight of having a Loving Friend.

The story of The Lost Watch has stayed with me. I have amused myself looking around for things I desire that may well be right in front of my nose, if only I would get my nose out of the way, right there in front of my eyes, if only I would focus on what really matters. Having 'played' with this approach, I have discovered something that has stunned me: I already have all that I desire. The desires that are left in me are not about that which I do not yet have but about having more of what I already have. As I write this, it is stunning me still, with the resonance of a huge bronze bell that shakes your 'innards' as it rings.

This has also brought me to appreciate the Power of a Personal Story. We write our stories for ourselves, all the while hoping that they will serve somebody else but how could Lynette have imagined the impact her story would have on me? She could not. She could only have the courage to share something profoundly meaningful to her. When I say 'only have the courage', I am soooo wrong. I should say 'find it in her heart to be brave enough'.

A Brave Heart Lynette surely is - and I thank her and love her for it :0)