 In October, I made the decision to revive this blog and set a goal: write 10 blog posts by the end of the month. But life, as it often does, had other plans. I had to pivot, readjust, and extend my timeline, aiming to wrap up by the end of November instead. And now, here we are, mid-December, and I’m completing the 10 blog posts. This journey has been a powerful reminder of what it means to pivot and readjust expectations and goals. Goals don’t always unfold on the timelines we imagine, but progress matters more than perfection: what matters is continuing to move forward, step by step, even when the plan shifts. Gratitudes for 2024:
1. Placencia, Belize At the end of 2023, from November through early January 2024, my husband and I lived and worked in the beautiful beach town of Placencia, Belize. It was such an incredible adventure—a glimpse into what it might feel like to live as "digital nomads," working and living from a completely different geographical location. The experience was both grounding and liberating, and I’m so grateful for the memories we created there. 2. My husband I’m endlessly grateful for Matthew and the 27 years we’ve journeyed through life together. It’s been beautiful, rocky, unexpected, painful, and enriching—a full, layered experience of partnership. To have someone to share life with, to grow alongside, and to keep choosing each other through all of it is a gift I never take for granted. 3. My eldest daughter Helena has always been wise beyond her years, and I deeply cherish the relationship we’ve built as she’s grown into adulthood. My husband and I have always aspired to evolve into trusted friends and mentors for our children as they become adults and seeing that aspiration come to life is something I’m profoundly thankful for. 4. My youngest daughter Esther is our spirited, passionate child. Parenting her has brought its unique set of challenges. And through those challenges, I’ve learned to deepen my practice of staying centered, even when it feels difficult. She’s taught me so much about myself, and I’m grateful for the lessons she continues to bring into my life. 5. My work as a coach I’m so thankful for the opportunity to continue evolving and growing in my work as a coach. Whether coaching, mentoring other coaches, or as a coach supervisor, I find immense purpose in helping others grow, develop, and become better humans—not only to themselves but to those they impact. 6. Coaching Supervision This year, I’ve discovered new ways to support coaches in their development through Coaching Supervision. Coaches are extraordinary people, and I’m honored to create reflective spaces where they can explore who they are and who they want to become, both as humans and in their coaching practice. 7. Sibling time supporting my mother’s recovery from stroke In July, I was able to take time off to travel to Daegu, South Korea, to be with my mother during her recovery from a stroke. Being there during such a critical moment reminded me of the importance of presence and the gift of siblings supporting one another, even in challenging times. 8. Trip to Ireland In September, Matthew and I traveled to Ireland with Helena for two weeks. It was an unforgettable experience, filled with new adventures, laughter, and meaningful connection. Traveling with family always deepens my appreciation for shared moments like these. 9. A new chapter in our roles Since May, I’ve stepped into the role of being the primary income earner after my husband was laid off. While there have been moments of financial stress, this shift has also opened a new chapter for both of us. It has given me a deeper appreciation for the ways we’ve balanced work, family, and responsibilities in past seasons of our lives—and for how we’re navigating this one together. 10. Coaching communities I’m so grateful for the coaching communities I’ve been part of this year. These spaces—filled with wisdom, encouragement, and reflection—have not only supported my growth but reminded me of the collective power of shared learning and connection. As a review of 2024, I want to remember, celebrate, and appreciate all the year has brought. Looking forward to what 2025 has in store…
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 Lately, I’ve been reflecting on what the future of coaching might look like, particularly through the lens of my own journey. When I first decided to leave my 15-year career as a therapist in 2016 to step into coaching, I thought I had found my “forever” career—the work I’d do until I no longer wanted to work. Back then, the path forward felt clear: get training, build my practice, and keep doing what I loved indefinitely. However, as I’ve grown and evolved in this field, my perspective has shifted.
In the early years after coach training, I was trying to find my footing. Like many new coaches, I was focused on gaining hours, earning certifications, and figuring out how to make coaching financially viable. I wrestled with questions about my niche and whether I could establish credibility in spaces I hadn’t worked in before, especially corporate America. Having never held a position in a big company like Microsoft or Amazon, I wondered if I had what it took to work with leaders at that level. But little by little, through an online coaching platform, I began gaining experience—and confidence. I found myself working with leaders across a range of levels (from individual contributors to first-time managers, seasoned directors, and even C-suite executives) and industries (non-profits, tech, pharma, entertainment, and more). This exposure broadened my perspective and helped me see that the core of leadership development wasn’t about knowing the corporate playbook—it was about helping people navigate the human challenges of leadership. Over time, my work expanded: I became a mentor coach, trained as a coaching supervisor, served on the ICF Washington Board, and volunteered in ways that deepened my practice. These experiences have reshaped how I see coaching—not just as a tool for individual growth, but to catalyze transformation across systems and communities. This past summer, I joined a small group of coaches in a conversation about the future of our profession. One coach, who’s been in the field for over 20 years, shared his perspective: coaching, as we know it, must evolve—or risk becoming irrelevant. He described how coaching has often been used in corporate settings as a tool to “performance manage” struggling executives—essentially, a last-ditch effort to address problematic behaviors before termination becomes inevitable. More recently, coaching has also been framed as support for new leaders adjusting to high-stakes roles, helping them reflect, strategize, and succeed. But the language of coaching is changing. Terms like “mental fitness,” “psychological well-being,” “emotional agility,” and “executive presence” have become mainstream, blurring the lines between coaching and fields like organizational psychology or therapy. At its core, though, coaching remains deeply human. It’s about helping individuals mature—emotionally, cognitively, psychologically, and even spiritually—in ways that ripple outward into their relationships, communities, and the larger world. During this conversation, we explored the idea of maturity and its role in human development. What does it mean to grow into maturity—not just for ourselves but for humanity as a whole? And what role can coaching play in fostering this growth? These questions sparked something in me, a sense of urgency about the transformative potential of coaching—not just as a tool for personal success but as a force for collective healing and connection. As I reflected on coaching supporting people to grow into maturity, I’ve been synthesizing on an idea of “therapeutically informed coaching”. For 15 years, I sat with clients in the sacred space of therapy—a place where they could unpack the emotional, mental, and behavioral patterns that often stemmed from deep wounds: childhood trauma, abuse, neglect, or violence. These experiences left lasting imprints on their sense of self, shaping who they believed they were and what they thought they deserved. The therapeutic space became a container for exploring those shadows—the dark, fearful parts they were too scared to reveal to anyone else, afraid they’d be judged, rejected, or unlovable. But in that space, something remarkable would happen. By bringing those hidden parts into the light—by allowing them to be seen, known, and shared with another—they could begin to face those shadows with courage. The shadows, once so powerful in the darkness, started to lose their influence, as they are brought into the light. And as my clients learned to stand in the light, they found they could make intentional choices about who they wanted to be. No longer bound by fear or shadows of their past, they could decide how to move forward with more freedom and self-compassion. At its core, therapy is also about connection—being deeply seen, heard, and accepted by someone who is fully invested in your well-being. It’s a relationship grounded in trust and care, where the goal is always to move toward emotional and mental health. Coaching, in many ways, offers a similar kind of space. It’s a place where clients can explore their goals, aspirations, and yes, even their shadows. Those same shadows show up in coaching, though perhaps in different forms—limiting beliefs, inner critics, or fears of failure. And while the focus in coaching is often future-oriented and directed by the client’s goals, the partnership between coach and client still requires safety, trust, and a collaborative spirit. As a coach, I don’t come in as the “expert” or “savior.” Instead, I walk alongside my clients, honoring their agency and holding space for what matters most to them. When I first entered the coaching world, I noticed a deliberate effort to draw a distinction between therapy and coaching (particularly in the U.S). There seemed to be a need to keep the two separate. But now, I find myself wondering: what could coaching look like if we integrated some of the psychological frameworks and developmental understandings that are foundational in therapy? What if coaching wasn’t afraid to embrace the richness of human complexity, including the deeper emotional and psychological layers of growth? Both therapy and coaching have so much to offer—each with its unique strengths—and yet, I can’t help but feel that they could benefit from learning from one another. Coaching, with its forward momentum and partnership model, and therapy, with its depth and understanding of the human psyche, both aim to support people in becoming more fully themselves. What might be possible if we allowed the two to dance together, blending their wisdom to create something even more transformative in supporting human maturity?  Lately, across the diverse coaching communities I’m part of, I’ve noticed something stirring—a collective inquiry that feels both timely and transformative. The conversations often begin with familiar themes: how coaching has empowered leaders to enhance their efficiency, perform at their best, and, in turn, create high-performing teams that drive organizational success and impact the bottom line. But there’s a deeper question emerging, one that reaches beyond corporate outcomes: How might we use the transformative power of coaching to serve society more broadly? How can coaching become a vehicle for helping humans—not just leaders, but all of us—become better versions of ourselves, in service to one another and the world? Coaching skills—holding non-judgmental space, embracing the paradoxes of life, and connecting deeply with another human—offer us something profoundly needed in today’s fast-paced world. They invite us to pause and reflect, to step out of the chaos and reconnect with what truly matters. These skills have the power to transform lives, but the question is: how can they be taught in ways that are both developmentally appropriate and deeply relevant to the challenges people face daily?
What if these coaching skills were intentionally woven into the fabric of all areas of our lives—parenting, education, counseling, organizations, non-profits, faith communities, and community spaces? What might happen if these skills, designed to humanize and deepen relationships, were embraced not just as professional tools but as foundational ways of being? In a world that often feels like it’s we’re losing touch with our humaneness, this could be the antidote we need to cultivate connection, understanding, and growth. Imagine if we moved away from hierarchical, "expert-driven" interactions and embraced a model where everyone takes ownership—not just for their role but for the quality of the shared space. Conversations would shift. Instead of interrupting or inserting opinions prematurely, we’d listen generously, fully present to the other person. We’d reflect on what’s been said, offer encouragement, and notice what’s emerging in the moment. Questions would replace directives, inviting curiosity and exploration over judgment or advice. This isn’t about abandoning structure or goals; it’s about holding space for exploration and discovery, knowing that each person is inherently creative and resourceful. Solutions—whether personal or collective—could emerge naturally, born from this collaborative and equitable environment. And when resources or support are lacking, the conversation can shift to include those needs with openness and respect. Such an approach could transform not only how we communicate but how we relate—creating an equitable playing field where every voice matters, especially those on the margins. It would invite us to pause, reflect, and reconnect with what truly matters. These coaching principles could help us generate new possibilities, process challenges, and create space for growth—not just for ourselves but for those we are in relationship with. This vision isn’t confined to individual interactions. Imagine these principles embedded into our schools, workplaces, and community spaces—equipping people not only to “do the work” but to grow and mature as humans. These skills have the power to make us better stewards of our relationships and, ultimately, better humans to ourselves, each other, and the world.  I've been reflecting upon the transformative power of coaching. It's no surprise that many people lives have been impacted and changed through coaching. At it’s core, coaching invites us to show up fully present, to listen and to set aside our agendas, and to hold space for others as they wrestle with what matters most to them. It's about meeting people where they are, not with answers or advice, but with curiosity and an openness to whatever might emerge. It's about creating a non-judgmental space where paradoxes can be held, where complexity is welcomed, and where someone feels truly heard and known.
These coaching skills—presence, generative listening, holding space—are powerful tools for fostering connection and change far beyond the coaching session. They have the potential to ripple out into our relationships, communities, faith circles, political systems, organizations, and the broader world. These skills also offer us a rare gift in today’s fast-paced world: the invitation to pause, to reflect, and to reconnect with what holds the most value for us. They remind us to slow down and see more clearly, to honor what is present, and to make space for what could be. When we bring these skills into our daily lives—whether as professionals, partners, parents, or friends—they can help weave a stronger, more compassionate fabric into our communities. And perhaps, in this weaving, we begin to shift the world, one conversation at a time.  In my coaching work, even as I help others grow in the leadership development space, I often come back to a guiding principle: my work is ultimately about helping people be better humans—to themselves, to the people they’re in relationship with, to their communities, and to the world at large.
What I know about the human condition is that, as flawed as we all are, we need each other. Other people can mirror for us not only what is true about ourselves but also what we hope to make true. In any role or position we hold in life—whether it’s one we were given, one we earned, or one we chose—leadership isn’t simply about knowledge or technical skills. Rather, it’s about who we are as people, and how we treat others, especially when circumstances or other people challenge us. This is why I emphasize the importance of internal work—working on who we are at our core, in the privacy of our own space and thoughts, when we’re alone with our emotions and honest with ourselves. That deep, private self—our true self—is what ultimately comes to the surface in our actions and choices, for better or worse. Our strengths, our insecurities, the parts we’d rather hide, even our fears—these will all come through. It’s that transparency, the good and the bad, that reveals who we are as leaders and as humans. Reflecting on my journey, from my early work as a therapist to my coaching today, I see clearly that we are at risk of “losing” what makes us unique as humans. While technology and AI advance, there may come a time when machines are sentient enough to mimic human behaviors and responses. But true humanity is not only about “thinking” or mimicking; it’s about being. Our humanity is expressed in our ability to connect with, comfort, and encourage others, to hold space for one another in times of need. We are humans—physical, emotional, and spiritual beings. And despite our flaws, we offer each other something invaluable: belonging, connection, and a sense of not being alone in this world. Ultimately, leadership—and life—is about being fully present as humans. The work of showing up for ourselves, for others, and for our communities may not always be easy, but it is essential. In a world where we can sometimes forget what makes us uniquely human, perhaps our greatest contribution is to remember and to live that humanity with intention.  As far back as I can remember, I’ve been captivated by what drives people to feel, think, and behave the way they do. My curiosity runs deep in understanding that inner dialogue—the emotions, thoughts, and beliefs swirling within—and especially in discovering the influences that have shaped these mental models, sometimes empowering, sometimes limiting us. This curiosity about what makes people tick, what motivates or inspires them, has always guided me, but also what keeps us stuck, repeating the same patterns, cycling through the same choices that lead to the same disappointments. Many of us, myself included, can feel caught in the loop of hoping for something different while acting in ways that keep producing the same results. So, what holds us back from breaking free of these cycles? I think of the times I’ve found myself returning to that familiar place, disappointed again, as I’d unconsciously chosen what was comfortable, predictable—yet ultimately unsatisfying. For many, it takes reaching a breaking point, that inflection point where the pain of staying the same outweighs the discomfort of change. It doesn’t have to be a dramatic event; it might be an accumulation of fatigue, frustration, or even an underlying impatience with the way things are. There comes a moment when the sense of feeling “stuck” becomes intolerable, and the discomfort of change finally feels worth it.
These are the many reasons I was a therapist and now am a coach in the leadership development space. The fascination with helping people develop, grow, and mature have captivated me for many decades. Humans are multi-layered, complex, and also at the same time basic beings. Both as a therapist and coach, I observe these essential truths about our humanness:
The paradoxes of human nature are intricate and often uncomfortable. But if we’re willing to explore them and understand what truly makes us tick, we open the possibility of new patterns, of moving forward with greater clarity and freedom. Embracing both our light and our dark, our capacity to grow and to falter, allows us to break out of the cycles that hold us back and step fully into the life we want to live.  In August, my husband and I officially became empty nesters as we moved our youngest daughter into her dorm for her freshman year of college. Like many other parents, we experienced a gamut of emotions. There was immense pride and joy in seeing our child, through her hard work and determination, achieve her goal of attending college. She is stepping into her independence and embracing the journey into adulthood.
Now, she must navigate her daily life, manage her time and finances, and make her own decisions. It’s bittersweet, shifting of our role as parents, to that of advisor and mentor. As we watch from a distance, we feel both trepidation and excitement. We are passing the reins of life to our daughter, allowing her to experience life on her own terms. We know she will face challenges and celebrate successes that she creates for herself. Alongside these complex emotions, we faced another layer to navigate. This wasn't our first time passing the reins to our youngest. About 18 months prior, my husband and my parenting journey abruptly ended. She no longer wanted to be parented by us. She wanted her independence and wanted to make her own decisions, even though we felt she wasn’t ready for that responsibility. In essence, she declared her emancipation from us. It was one of the many difficult decisions we have had to face in parenting her. After years of seeking resources to improve our relationship with her, things had escalated to her engaging in risky behaviors that jeopardized her well-being and affected those around her. Watching her make continual choices that put herself at risk was heartbreaking. The sadness, anger, resentment, fear, and hopelessness that my husband and I felt were indescribable. When a parent reaches the point of discussing whether it's in the best interest of the family for their teenager to continue living at home, the situation has hit an impasse. It’s hard to articulate the emotions that arise when your child decides to reject the parenting and values you’ve instilled in them. As a mother, particularly as an adoptive parent, I grappled with deep feelings of guilt. I questioned myself constantly, wondering what I might have done wrong, what I could have done differently, and ultimately, how I could have been a better parent. I felt a profound sense of grief and loss, knowing I hadn’t fulfilled my role as her mom in the ways I had envisioned. The lack of closure in our relationship weighed heavily on me. In my last post, I wrote: “Navigating change—whether imposed upon us or self-chosen—requires a willingness to confront our emotions, release our attachments, and embrace the unknown. By giving ourselves space, patience, and self-compassion to identify the challenges we face and seeking ways to overcome them, we can transform our experiences into opportunities for growth and insight.” This impasse in our relationship with our youngest was not how we imagined our parenting journey ending. Reconciling our expectations of parenthood with the reality of our situation has been difficult. Parenthood presents abundant opportunities to wrestle with what is truly within our control and what is not. Then when you consider how that might be impact the self-agency of your minor child, this creates a precarious emotional state filled with self-doubt and second-guessing, wondering if you are making the right decision. No one—experts included—can help you make those decisions. Ultimately, we must live with the decisions we make and their impact on everyone involved. Out of necessity for my own mental and emotional well-being, I adopted a daily practice of “radical acceptance.” This concept, rooted in Buddhism, involves recognizing and accepting my current feelings without judgment or evaluation, and letting go of the desire for things to be different. As Marsha Linehan, the psychologist and creator of Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT), explains, radical acceptance does not mean lacking feelings or resigning oneself to a situation. Instead, it involves accepting reality as it is, understanding that the events causing pain have a cause, and recognizing that life can still be lived even amidst painful experiences. It’s a daily practice to consider how I want to show up for myself, my daughter, and the rest of my family. At times, I felt trapped, believing there were countless reasons to feel that my sense of self-agency was dependent upon someone else’s choices. Yet, I still constantly remind myself that while I can’t control others or their decisions, I do have the power to choose who I want to be and how I will respond. Even amid challenging circumstances, I oversee my own destiny and the integrity of the person I aspire to be. Some days, it’s easier to embody this belief than others. I’m a work in progress.
It’s been a summer of chapters ending and new ones beginning. The summer began with my eldest graduating college. She is officially navigating adulthood. My youngest graduated high school and started her freshman year at college. Hands-on parenting chapter ends and empty-nesting begins. Most of July, my siblings and I were in Daegu, South Korea visiting my elderly mother. She suffered a stroke. We collaborated, with extended family, to establish her long-term care. It’s unclear of her prognosis. The relationship we’ve had with our mother ends and a different chapter of the relationship begins.
These life transitions can throw life off balance. To re-calibrate and center myself, I took the time to pause and reflect. I want to mark these pivotal stages of life. I want to harness the gifts of wisdom, integrate them into my life, and be transformed. Throughout August, my colleague,Pamela Maxson, PhD, MCC shared her reflections and learnings on her 31 day countdown to retirement from Duke. I was inspired with her commitment to write every day and vulnerably sharing those lessons. I’m re-committing to my writing journey. I’m reviving my dream to write, re-awakening my Coaching Corner blog. On 05/22/2018 was the last written blog post. There’s been a lot of living, not much writing. So for October, I will commit to writing 10 blog posts. I believe every life story is unique. I’m intrigued by how different and similar experiences of one’s life shapes who people are and yet to become. I’m a specialist of thriving in the “in-between”. The “in-between” are parts of my life where feelings of ambivalence, not just yes or no, but both exist. As a bi-cultural person, an Asian American woman, a parent of a biological & adoptive children, a former therapist and now a therapeutically informed coach, I straddle both/and existence. These are the intersections I will write from: to connect to myself and to connect with others. I invite you to come along on this writing journey and connect with me. |
AuthorErica Goos draws from her experience as a coach, as a former therapist, her bi-culturalness impacts her as a woman, mom and wife. Archives
December 2024
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