Christina Brandt

Are you trying to figure out what you’re meant to do with your life?  What steps to take next?  I recently participated in an activity in the South African bush that was a wonderful metaphor about this very dilemma.

During Martha Beck’s STAR retreat at Londolozi , five of us were taken into the bush and told we’d learn how to track animals.  The ranger and tracker left the Range Rover and walked off, leaving us alone, searching for fresh rhino tracks (i.e., footprints).

After a few minutes, they came back and asked us to get out of the vehicle.  The lesson began.

Solly (the senior tracker) and Boyd (ranger and coach) knelt to show us the shape/size of a rhino track, at what angle to stand so the sun wasn’t blocking the track, how partial tracks give clues about how the animal was moving and in what direction, what happens to blades of grass when they’re bent, how to check the growth (bushes, etc.) to see if a leaf (!?) has been disturbed, what dust on a blade of grass means…The more Solly and Boyd told us about what to look for, the more nervous I got.  How on earth was I ever going to be able to do this?  Dust on a blade of grass, for Pete’s sake!  Pretty much how clients feel when they’re stuck.

Each of us would track for a few minutes, then rotate out and another would take over.  We needed to pay attention and notice signs.  Pretty much what I coach my clients to do.

The first track was pretty easy to spot in the sandy path, but further steps led into the stubby, dried grass.  Crap…what now?  Boyd called out – if you don’t see a track/clue, go back to the last one you saw and look again.  Pretty much what we do in coaching, too.

So, back I went.  I’m not sure what happened next, but suddenly I felt as though I was being pulled forward, and as if the tracks were popping up out of the ground.  I pointed and said “there, and there, and there” over and over, and started walking a little faster.  Boyd said “You’ve got it.  Keep going.”  I heard him say to someone “She’s good at this.”  I thought, “Hey, I’m good at this.  How cool.”  And almost instantly, the tracks disappeared.  I saw nothing.  I went back to the last track, but couldn’t see anything.  Someone else took over.

After the exercise, Solly told me I had a talent for tracking, and that he saw the moment when things went wrong.  Tapping his forehead, he said “you started to use this.”  Then, he tapped his heart and said “Always use this.”  He was right.  My intuition, my heart, and my senses stopped leading me when I let my thoughts about my performance get in the way.  Yup, that’s pretty much what happens to my clients, too.

I realized then that tracking animals is exactly the same as tracking clues to find one’s purpose.  Use your body, your heart and six senses, be still and calm, ask for help if you need to, realize that the clues may be very tiny, and stop thinking so much.  It may take a while, or it may happen in a flash.  Either way, you’ll get there.