I’m in my last day of paperwork for completion with the ICA (International Coach Academy) coaching program. I’ve been doing their program for 2 years (January) and it’s been really delightful. The classes are stimulating and highly participatory. The communities of practice are varied, plenty of choices to pick the style and topic that works (mostly I’m attracted to what they call spiritual coaching).
The last 10 days have been about completion.
Now, I’m not done yet, but want to sortof sigh on paper a moment. Today I’ve handed in the last 2 of my writing tasks. Writing is suffering. Many writers say that. I want to echo that. Tuesday morning (today is Friday) I had a dreadful night and woke sick with sick stomach and a particular type of very disturbing headache — a light version, but all the same. That’s the day I could stop bouncing from topic to topic and settle in on a single topic. I made it an Open Space report … cause that’s what it was anyway and it’d be dreadfully time-consuming to attempt to dress it up as anything else. I’m actually quite pleased.
They asked for 2,000 words. I gave about double, but I started with 7,000. I feel like Blaise Pascal (just looked it up) who wrote
I did not have time to write you a short letter, so I wrote you a long one instead.