How satisfied would you be with a doctor who stitched you up all nice and neat, only to have you escorted from the building still giddy from the anaesthetic, sporting your hospital gown and bewilderedly clutching a box with your clothes in?
How happy would you be with a lawyer who took on your case and worked brilliantly on your behalf, but who then kept the specific results of the case to themselves, saying “Ah, that’s for you to find out…”
And just how frustrated would you be boarding a plane where the pilot tells you that he’ll fly you to the most amazing place on planet Earth – a place where your deepest desires can come true – but you’ve got to wear a blindfold and will be passing over it briefly at 30,000 feet while we bank around to make the trip home? Don’t worry though, you’ll get a tiny bag of pretzels while you’re up there to make it all worthwhile. Woop.
It’s at this point where I offer an apology, because what I was doing over at The Confidence Guy was similar to the doctor, lawyer and pilot. I was providing a service, but forgot about the heart of it.
I was happily helping people to be confident and then waving goodbye as they walked away into the sunset, and forgot all about helping them do something important, meaningful and maybe even extraordinary with the confidence they’d gained.
I was an idiot. Sorry ’bout that.
Ever since I was a teenager I was the kid who people went to to share their troubles. I listened. And listened. And sometimes, people felt better. In the various jobs and roles I’ve had over the years, people have come to me for advice, and I’ve listened and advised where appropriate. And I hope that people who know me now, know that I’m always around to listen.
Becoming a coach felt like the most natural thing in the world, and my sole aim was to be of service; real, tangible, valuable service. That’s what gets my knees trembling and my heart thumping; that’s my dent in the universe.
And while I’ve been of some value, I can do better.
I believe that any endeavour without heart is hollow. But when an endeavour is woven through with heart and soul it becomes something rare, something extraordinary. That’s my intention for the Code of Extraordinary Change, both in terms of how I’m putting the heart back into what I do and how you can do the same. It starts right now.
So tell me, how can I help you?