“I'm going to show you how to bend time,” the Coach said.

He was seated in front of an impossibly perfect Zoom background that the Client later discovered was real. Somehow the Coach had managed to get a soft-focus camera for Zoom calls in his home office. Behind him were two white orchids, framing two abstract paintings suffused with orange, blue, and brown hues. The entire scene was built atop a mid-century-modern credenza, next to a silver-gray chair that appeared stolen from Don Draper's office. The overall effect was something you might see in a TV studio, if a network produced a show called “In the Coach's Office” and filmed it entirely in Zoom.

The Client began with timelines. Time was a concern for him: it always seemed to be running out.

The time it would take for his severance to expire. How much time he would need to sign and return the documents. How much time it might take to launch his business, he said, alluding to his future goals. “Because time is money,” he told the Coach.

The Coach wanted to introduce a different perspective – one that didn't have a deadline attached. “What if there were many more knobs to turn and levers to pull, outside of these financial possibilities?” the Coach replied. The Client was stressed out. He wasn't going to fall for the Jedi mind trick.

“If you turn off the engine, the car won't take you anywhere,” he replied. “What if I run out of gas? The money and the time are real concerns.”

The Coach felt like those were not the Droids he was looking for. He asked the Client to set aside the financial concerns, for a moment. After all, didn't he have enough money right now, and for the immediate future? Yes, the Client admitted. Yes, he did. The Coach always wanted to focus on real problems, not imaginary ones. And from a peaceful state of mind, possibilities are more easily accessed. Time, the Coach knew, could become an ominous fire-breathing dragon in times of stress. He also knew that dragons weren't real.

“Worrying about some future event that's a potential scenario and may perhaps happen is like solving a hypothetical puzzle inside a fictional riddle. I know those financial concerns look real, and I'm not saying they're not. But let's set that timeline aside for a moment and I promise we will come back to it. Fair enough?”

The Client agreed. He spoke of his goals and what he knew about goal-setting. The Coach was curious: he suspected the Client had considered new options for his career, since he had already wanted to leave the company. The idea of entrepreneurship had shown up more than once.

The Coach surmised that the Client already had a goal in mind for his next step. What was it?

The Client responded quickly. “I want to launch my own consulting business. I need a BHAG to help me get there,” he explained.

The Coach recognized the term: it stood for “Big Hairy Audacious Goal.” The idea behind BHAG was a simple one. Having audacious or outrageous goals was a way to stretch yourself, to see what you were made of. Aim for the stars, the saying goes, and you just might land on the moon. Of course, there's no oxygen on the moon.

Every salesperson knows how new quotas are designed to stretch toward stratospheric goals. The Client wasn't in sales, but he had seen how goals were always set to drive greater performance. He believed he needed to define his own stretch goal in order to achieve … well, what exactly? In the absence of clear direction, that inner knowing was eluding him at the moment. So, the Client turned to what he had been told.

He tried to turn a four-letter-acronym into a lifestyle.

The BHAG acronym was a modern retelling of the Pygmalion effect. In a nutshell, the Pygmalion effect says that great expectations produce great results.

“What's a Pygmalion?” the Client asked. He wondered if it was a way to make bacon or something.

The Coach explained the details about the Greek myth of Pygmalion.

“Pygmalion was an ancient king who also happened to be a sculptor. He carved a statue out of stone, creating what he believed was the perfect woman, and he named the sculpture Galatea. Through the magic of the gods – this is Greek mythology, after all – the statue came to life. And Pygmalion fell in love with the statue.”

The Client was confused. “So where exactly were the high expectations? Did Pygmalion expect that he could bring a statue to life and so the gods granted his wish or something? This story doesn't make sense.”

“Actually, it makes a lot of sense,” the Coach said, “when you consider that it's not the story of high expectations at all. It's the story of a king who fell in love with a false idol of his own creation.”

The Coach explained that Pygmalion adored an artificial construct. He fooled himself, and became a fool in the process, not only by fooling himself into thinking he could shape the perfect woman but also by falling in love with a complete and utter fiction. His Big Hairy Audacious Goal was a complete fake, and he became smitten with a lie. “Does that sound like a good strategy to you?” he asked.

Social scientists borrowed the premise of high expectations leading to great results in a study they named the Pygmalion effect. The premise of the deeply debated study, released in 1968 by Robert Rosenthal and Lenore Jacobsen,¹ was that higher teacher expectations created greater student results. Like a self-fulfilling prophecy, low expectations, particularly around test results, would deliver low test performance. At least, that was the idea. While the book proved its premise, as most books often do, there was a little bit of a problem with the Pygmalion effect.

Specifically, it didn't work.

Scientists and scholars disputed the findings of the Pygmalion effect, which also came to be called the Rosenthal effect. Using high expectations to drive higher results was a premise that was difficult to replicate. Duplication wasn't difficult because of the research; the hypothesis just wasn't true. Not everyone conforms to desired results. Not everyone performs well under high expectations.

“Why do you think that is?” the Coach asked.

After a pause, the Client said, “No one is at their best with a gun to their head. Or when trying to live up to some false construct. Seems like high expectations can be discouraging. Or intimidating. Or those expectations remind you of who you are not.”

“Exactly,” the Coach replied. “When a goal reminds you of who you are not, that's the definition of discouragement. Creating some ideal, or having someone else tell you what that ideal outcome is, creates a Catch-22: who are you if you don't reach your goal? What if Galatea doesn't love you back? It's the opposite of what you need – what you really need – to pursue something. Reaching for some big hairy audacious anything is setting up an artificial construct,” the Coach said. “Creating a reminder of what you don't have, or of who you aren't, and reminding yourself of your shortcomings and imperfections … well, how is that easier? Where's the encouragement and enrichment and excitement in all of that ‘less-than’ stuff?”

The Client considered the disconnect, pondering the fact that no one could create the perfect partner, from stone or flesh. The Pygmalion effect isn't about setting lofty goals, he realized. It's a story about people who fall in love with false creations. Impossible situations. He noticed how the researchers who tried to make the case for high expectations ended up with low results.

Just like the story of the king and his statue, the Pygmalion effect is pure myth. Not a strategy for success.

The Coach tried to bring it all home for the Client. “Have you ever created a construct, around artificial circumstances or expectations, and fallen in love with your own creation – only to be heartbroken when it doesn't love you back or give you the results you expect?”

The voice inside the Client's head screamed, “Could he be speaking of your job?” But the Client wasn't exactly convinced about where it was all headed, so he said, “What's wrong with wanting big goals for yourself?”

“Nothing,” the Coach said quickly. “There's nothing wrong with wanting to make the most beautiful statue you can, for example. But here's where big goals can get you into big trouble: when your relationship to those goals doesn't make achievement easier.”

He wondered out loud, “Why embrace a myth and try to build your life or your business around it? The stories only lead to disappointment and discouragement. What if Pygmalion had realized he was in love with a statue? Misinformed expectation does not lead to high results. How could that make anything easier?”

The Client looked past his monitor, at the desk in his office. A picture of his wife and two girls, taken outside the Teacup ride at Disneyland, sat on his desk. The smiles on their faces were the most real things he had ever seen. Their perfection wasn't manufactured or sculpted. Pure joy was a permanent fixture inside the wooden frame that held the image.

Beside the photo of his girls sat a picture of his team at a work retreat. In the middle of the 10 team members in the photo, the Client stood next to an easel, holding a paintbrush in one hand. On the easel was a canvas, and on the canvas was a painting of a bowl of fruit. The colors were vibrant, the shadows were perfectly captured. The painting was his. In his left hand, he held a wooden trophy. The square base of the trophy was made of a dark wood. A large empty wineglass was affixed to the wooden base. He had won first prize in the art contest, conducted at an offsite location where wine and painting combined to create memories. The most amazing thing about the picture? Before the evening started, he didn't even know he could paint.

Most of his pictures were digital, but these two framed mementos sat side by side. Love and resourcefulness stared back at him from inside wooden frames. Recalling the night of his artistic victory, and the wineglass trophy, he remembered how he had no expectations whatsoever of creating that work when the evening began. An engineer artist? Who could have imagined? He hadn't wanted or wished for some statue made out of wood and glass. He had no identity around being a painter – he just picked up the paintbrush and followed the guidance from the group leader. He shared what he saw as he picked out the colors and hues.

First prize was his. Even though that wasn't really the goal at all. In fact, when he had no goal in mind whatsoever, he realized, he actually tended to play his best. He discovered new skills. He found fun inside of an office function. He didn't know he couldn't paint, and so he did it. He didn't talk himself out of it, he just did it. And, for the picture on the left, there was absolutely no goal or expectation anywhere to be found. The expression on his wife's face told a wordless story of joy and connection. One common element in both pictures: everything inside those frames was effortless.

“What happens if you hold on loosely to your goals?” the Coach asked. “For example, you've said that your goal is to start your own business. But what if a company comes along and offers you a higher salary at a place where you would love to work? Do you reject the offer outright, because it doesn't align with your self-proclaimed BHAG? Please understand, there is nothing wrong with wanting to launch your own business. Or with taking another job. Or any choice you wish to make around your career. I'm here for all of it! But a goal gives direction and intention, not always a destination. If we hold on too tightly, we miss opportunities. We live life with blinders on, calling it ‘focus’ instead of keeping our eyes and ears open for possibility.”

The Coach slid his chair out of frame, exiting stage right. He returned with a gray and white cat in his lap. The cat sat on the coach like a grateful pillow with ears and a tail. “Hold on loosely,” the Coach said, petting the cat, “and notice possibilities. Because living with blinders on is never easier. You might miss the opportunity that's right in front of you, because it's not part of the mythical BHAG you created.” The cat sat up and looked to his right. Meowing, the cat bounced off the Coach's lap and disappeared from the screen.

“Human beings are really good at making stuff up,” the Coach said. “We create plans and projections and proclamations – stories inside our minds about perfect statues and how high expectations are a requirement for high performance. I'm not saying that having goals is completely useless. It's not. What I'm talking about is our relationship with our goals. We build up all these ‘if/then’ statements: ‘if the boss doesn't go for this idea, then I'm a failure. If she doesn't love me back, I'm a loser. If this doesn't go exactly the way I've scripted and sculpted it out, I'm a disaster.’ Hanging your identity on an outcome is a recipe for defeat. Because the expectation is based on a misunderstanding. Yet we do it all the time!”

The Client thought of the king who loved a statue. Had he built an entire museum around the statue as well? And, like that king, was he building expectations and identities around his mythical, unlaunched business idea? He needed to work with the way things are, not some imagined construct from inside his head. Having goals wasn't the problem – attaching to them was.

The Coach said, “There's something else that we do even better than wondering and wandering into the future, making up scenarios of what failure looks like, building some artificial Galatea into our lives. There's something much better than manufacturing pressure, or high expectations, or both. What human beings do really, really well – and by the way, when I say ‘human beings’ that means you and me – is figure things out. We figure things out when they come to us.”

The Client looked again at the image of his artistic adventure. He recalled the unusual feel of the paintbrush in his hand. He remembered trying to Bob Ross a few things, using what looked like a spatula to insert shadows and colors. How had he done that? Well, he figured it out when it came to him. He didn't do it for the prize, or for any goal whatsoever. The picture on his desk, taken just after the paint had dried, reflected the surprise and celebration of a very satisfying result.

“We get things done,” the Client said, bringing his attention back to the conversation and remembering how to win. “Not by grinding and figuring and striving and struggling, but by dealing with what comes to us, moment to moment. Like you do when you're surfing.” Or painting, he thought to himself. Or spending time with these two beautiful little girls at an amusement park, where every moment is new.

What others might call goals or accomplishments he saw as the aftereffects of a life that was authentic. The result of putting one foot in front of the other. Or one color on the canvas at a time. Sometimes, he thought, not having a specific goal could be a path to really creating something amazing, natural, and easy. Because things get easier when you don't necessarily have a rigid, fixed goal in mind. Sometimes an intention is all it really takes, he realized.

The Coach nodded his head. “Taking life moment by moment, understanding that we are part of an infinite and benevolent universe, where we can and will figure things out as they present themselves, is … what's the word I'm looking for?”

The Client replied, “Easier?”

The Coach smiled in acknowledgment. “I don't know how surfing works, but this is how surfing works: we figure it out. This is how getting fired works: we figure it out. Some things are pleasant, some not so much, but we figure it out. Moment to moment we figure it out. Why set outrageous expectations, unless you want to create undue pressure or discouragement around your goals? Who does well under those conditions?”

“I just feel like,” the Client said, “I should have this figured out by now.”

He had been unemployed for exactly 74 hours.

He was free but he kept trying to reinsert himself into a new prison.

He had been told, and he had seen, that it wasn't all up to him. But that realization took place in Austin. When he still had a job. So now that truth looked different. Why?

The Coach said, “I think your timing is off. The problem with success is that we don't see it in the present tense,” he said.

“I have a friend, an amazing coach by the name of Michael Neill. He wrote this book,” the Coach said, bending down and leaving the frame to pick up a white paperback. He held it to the screen, and the Client saw the title: Creating the Impossible.²

“You should watch his TED talks, by the way. I'll send you the links; remind me later. Anyway, Michael Neill says that there is an inevitability of success over time.”

The Coach continued with a cryptic remark. “Bending time might make you get better faster,” he reasoned. “Here, let me share this article with you – can you see it on the screen?” The Client nodded, while the Coach clicked and picked a window for Zoom.

“Given enough time,” the Coach continued, quoting from the Forbes³ article as he highlighted the words with his mouse, “we can figure out all kinds of things: from the path to the C-suite to career changes and more. Instead of recognizing that success takes time, we cling to ideas like ‘overnight success’ and put our own thinking around timelines – and that thinking focuses on an artificial construct that keeps us from being truly successful.

“Here, look at this,” the Coach said. He scrolled down and this is what the Client read:

The Coach stopped the screen share. “What do you make of all that?” he asked the Client.

“I really get the idea of dropping the ‘by now,’” he said. “It definitely makes things easier. But actually, that is easier said than done. Because we always put timelines on things. I mean, there's a monthly budget, and the amount of cash that you have on hand. If you don't make more money, you will run out of cash in a fixed amount of time. So you better have some new ideas. And some new numbers in your bank account – by now!”

The Coach smiled, because he had often felt the same way. Time was a very real and important construct to him, once upon a time. He had changed his relationship with time, however. Now he could bend time to his needs. He still made it to his appointments and got up with his alarm clock. But the clock served him, not the other way around. Time was not his master, by now. Time never would be. Success was all around him. Not tied to a deadline or aligned with his calendar.

“How long,” the Coach asked, “did you date your wife before you got married?”

“Eleven months,” the Client said. “How about you?”

“Five years,” the Coach said. “So who got it right? Both, and neither – because what was right for you wasn't right for me, and vice versa. Have you ever noticed that you don't really ‘win’ at marriage? It's always a shared victory. Same with the amount of time it takes to start a life together. If someone asked how long it takes to date someone before you get married, well, you and I are living proof that ‘actual mileage may vary.’ Doesn't make one marriage better or worse than the other, does it?”

“So often, we fool ourselves into thinking that we have the ‘Stopwatch of Success’: in other words, we know how long it takes to achieve success. I mean, even how long it takes to boil an egg can change when you are in Denver instead of Des Moines, because of the altitude! A soccer game is always ninety minutes, except when it's not. Except when penalties make it longer. How much longer? Nobody knows, until you play the game! So, success can be a moving target. Why do we think we know how long a thing is going to take, like finding the perfect person, or landing a great job, or starting a business, when we absolutely do not?”

“Because we want things to be here by now,” the Client said, simply.

“And what's wrong with that?” the Coach asked. Answering his own question, he said, “Absolutely nothing! We want things, that's totally normal, and we get the timing wrong all the time. Also totally normal! Remember what Michael Neill said,” the Coach continued, “we've got to stop ‘shoulding’ ourselves. What would happen if we did?”

As the Client considered the possibilities, the Coach went on, “Things get easier when you stop looking at where you should be – and start with where you are. Wasting time on where you should be is a great way to get smashed by a wave that you didn't see coming – or miss the one you really need. Getting clear on where you are is the only positioning that matters. Because, as I've said before, the future always comes from the same place: right now.”

He put the Forbes article back on the screen, and he read the words silently, along with the Client:

When the Client read that last sentence, all he said was, “I can relate to that.”

“What if,” the Coach said, “there are no mistakes?”

The Client blinked at the screen. “What?”

“What happened this week wasn't a mistake. Your wife said it was a gift!”

The Client remembered the conversation. He flashed on how hard it was to get started, then how much easier it was once he did. What he predicted – an imminent, irrefutable catastrophe – was the exact opposite of what unfolded. The broken blue dish sat inside the dustpan. Shattered pieces, caught and held. The Client remembered the kindness in his wife's eyes, and the touch of her hands on his face before she kissed him. The memory was a gift – and it all felt easier.

“Was she wrong?” the Coach asked. “When I think back about the ‘mistakes’ in my life, I see that I was just doing the best I could with the thinking I had at the time. Some of my greatest ‘mistakes’ have put me on the path that I'm on today. So many things that I once called ‘mistakes,’ I now see that they have shaped me in a way that brings gratitude. Not shame. Not blame. They help me play the game.”

“You know that phrase by Maya Angelou, ‘When you know better, you do better’? Isn't that true? What I once called a mistake I now see as grace – because it made me who I am. My choices, especially the ones I would never make again, have given me a new perspective. What some call mistakes I call a gift. Or, when I'm really at my best, I don't waste time with labels at all.”

“What are ‘mistakes’ anyway? They are the way I learned to walk and the way you learned to surf. Once upon a time I couldn't ride a bike or drive a car. Was all of that a mistake, or a failure of some kind? No, it was just part of my development. Oh man, I'm grateful for it all!”

“Take a look at this last section,” the Coach said.

“Wow,” the Client said.

The Coach wanted to make sure that the Client internalized these ideas around success, and timing, and more. “Write out what you've discovered today,” he said to the Client. “Focus on what you heard that made things easier. And, before I let you go, I want to give you another homework assignment. Would you be up for that?”

The Client eagerly agreed.

“First, write out your values,” the Coach said. “What is it that really matters to you, right now?”

The Coach pointed him to a book by Karen Mangia called Success from Anywhere.⁴ “Check out Chapter 3, ‘The Stress-Free Experiment,’” he said. “Once you have your values – things like family, personal development, service, openness, or whatever the case may be for you – then write out how you see those values demonstrated in your everyday life.”

This exercise, the Coach explained, has been shown in numerous scientific studies to produce powerful and proven results around greater resilience, improved relationships, reduction of stress, and even improved physical health.

Reading from the book, the Coach shared the following passage:

“Spend at least 10 minutes a day writing out how you see your values coming to life, in the actions you take every day. Do it every day. Or don't. Do it when it's right for you. This isn't an obligation, it's an exploration. You will know how often you need to do this exercise. But try it. Try out the ‘Stress Free Experiment.’ And see how your goals look, right here and right now.

“Sometimes the discipline we need isn't found in pure willpower or grit. Willpower goes out from time to time. Just like the power grid in Texas.” Both of the men laughed, and then they stopped and looked at each other with raised eyebrows. They shared a look that said, “How the hell did that happen?” and, simultaneously, “Thank god that's over!”

The Coach went back to the idea of values, saying, “The point is: discipline isn't based on willpower. Discipline is simply remembering what you want. Write down your values. Do you still have that notebook I gave you?”

He did. He held it up in front of his camera.

“Keep that notebook close by to jot down your thoughts.”

“Why?” the Client said. “Is there something else I need to write down?”

“Yes,” the Coach said. “Keep going on your list. Call me when you've discovered sixty ways to make things easier.”

“Why don't you just tell me what they are?” the Client asked.

“Whose journey are you on?” the Coach replied. The Client had to experience his own point of view. The Client had to take the ride. “Let me ask you: is life easier?”

The Client nodded as he looked down at his desk. His planning for the future had gotten easier. His relationship with time had gotten easier. His relationship with his wife and his daughters had also gotten easier. He was home.

Literally, yes, he was home. But personally, spiritually, and professionally: he was home.

“Almost everything,” the Coach had told him, “can be made easier.” The Client was starting to experience what he meant.

He still wondered about having big goals, though. He liked the idea of putting goals in an obvious place, where he could see them and remember what it was that he wanted. Like discipline, which might just be one of his values. He looked at his desk once again and saw the picture of his family. Maybe he had his goals in plain sight after all.

But right now, he needed to know how to launch his own consulting business.