The harbor at day's end

There is a quiet beauty in this image, a calm acceptance that the day has come to an end and it's okay to rest; that all is ready for the next day's adventures, and we can settle down to enjoy the sunset, the gentle lapping of the waves at the side of the boat, and the cries of the gulls at their final feeding of the day.

It's hard, I think, to give ourselves permission to rest; difficult to step away from all the projects we've got going and simply revel in an evening's peace.  My husband and I are fortunate, in that we have neighbors who make it a point to stop what they're doing and retire to their deck to watch the sunset every evening.  It's nice, when that time of day rolls around, to know they're out there, taking in the beauty as the sun disappears behind the Olympic mountains; nice, also, to know we're welcome to join them, that there are chairs enough to accommodate us all.

I had my first session as a coach yesterday, and in preparation for it I listened to a CD of sample coaching sessions on the ferry on the way over to Seattle.  And what I loved about what I heard -- which seemed different from spiritual direction and therapy sessions I've experienced -- was the way the coaches had of creating a safe and peaceful space for their clients.  It's a bit like the space that awaits us on our neighbors' deck; a place where you can ruminate on the challenges of the day, where you are free to grieve, or to imagine alternatives, or to dream... it's very freeing.

I'm not there yet -- I have a lot to learn about how to create that space -- but I can say that there were moments in our session where I felt my client and I, together, were in a deliciously open and accepting space, totally present and attuned to one another.  It had the same clarity and purity of feeling that I've gotten sometimes when meditating in a group setting; the same clarity and purity and acceptance and restfulness that I find in this image.  I felt a wonderful connection to my client, I have to say.  I could imagine that a life spent in sessions like these could prove enormously satisfying.

Hmm.  Who knows where this boat will take me?  Right now it doesn't matter; I am happy to be safe and quiet in my harbor, and ready for the next adventure.