By Allison Iantosca, PCC
A coach who changed my life taught me that what you look for is what you will see. Even now, in my mind, I can hear the echo of his words. The soft lilt of his voice making it sound almost like a question – but not quite.
It is an idea that stays with me, and I pay it forward as often as I can. In fact, the opportunity showed up for me recently.
It was not warm. Even though March saved daylight, it was still a bit stingy with the temperature. Spots of bright sun were sought out with faith that we were turning some kind of seasonal corner. I have been fooled before.
Nevertheless, even when the first thaw can’t completely undo the vestiges of February’s snowy detritus, kids hit the fields––baseball, soccer, lacrosse, track, softball—parents huddled in camp chairs along the sidelines. Everyone stalwarts in extracurricular achievement, the necessity for perfect conditions be damned.
I love the sports, the kids, the grit––bare legs, pinnies slapping about in the blustery wind, frozen turf as hard as pavement—but I have never felt particularly comfortable with the social scene, finding it hard to hit the right level of chit chat.
To get to the bathroom during half time of the first game I had to walk across the bleachers. I passed a woman, a mother, sitting cross legged, head tilted back, palms up. I smiled at her, at the sight of it, at her capturing the bounty of the sun’s meager warmth. She smiled back. One of us said something quiet about what she was doing.
On my return, she was still in the same posture, and I asked if she did Reiki. She said no, but ten years ago she was healing from cancer treatment and she sat in the sun a lot hoping it would help. “Anything to bring warmth and light into my body” she said as she cupped her hands full of both and ran them down her torso. I couldn’t help but mimic her on my own body. It felt heavenly. She seemed quite taken that I did this. Acknowledgement maybe? A kindred soul in an unlikely place. I put my palms together and bowed in a gesture of gratitude to her and disappeared back to my camp chair.
At the end of another two games she was beside me. By coincidence, the gaggle of kids to my right included hers. She confirmed with them where she would find them later and turned to go. Realizing we had once again toppled into each other despite the double field sports complex, we clumsily reached out, grasping hands for just a moment, trying to find words enough to express the profundity of this unexpected connection. I don’t know who she is. I don’t know how to find her again.
Sunshine. Tenderness. Recognition. Connection. Healing. It has stayed with me.
However, had paid her no mind on my way to the bathroom, had I not been seeking a sign of light and hope, sunshine and tenderness, recognition and connection, I might have walked right on by. I passed plenty of other parents on the same bleachers, some hunched and cold, some yelling at the refs, some animatedly chit chatting. I suppose if those were the things I was focused on, the vibrations I needed to somehow validate, I might have scoffed at or ignored her instead. It was all available to me. I want to say I made a conscious choice. Maybe I did. Either way, I am paying attention to it now and am glad there was some part of my knowing that was paying attention for me then.
Maybe you get it already, the knowing that whatever you may need can be available to you; that what you look for is what you might find. And that if you look for what heals you more than what might harm you, if you’re aware of the difference, you hold a little power for yourself. I hope that. For all of us.
Namaste.
Allison Iantosca, PCC is a Gestalt International Study Center (GISC) trained coach certified by ICF with extensive leadership and management experience. She is an Executive Coach and is the Owner and President of Boston based FH Perry Builder.
*Photo Credit: Jack Blueberry, Unsplash