test

The kids were going stir crazy in the house all
day. The rain had kept us in and they were
getting louder and louder;when the competition to
see who could jump from the second bunk bed onto
the mattress below started, I knew it was time to
get out!

So we packed into the car and headed out in the
rain.

Near where we live there are fish ponds belonging
to the local kibbutz. It’s a perfect feeding
ground for birds migrating; it turns out that
about 500 million birds migrate through from Asia
to Africa and back again.

We are truly blessed to witness this each year.

So we headed down to the fish ponds in the hope of
seeing some storks or herons, in truth, just to
distract the kids from wanting to beat each other
up and maybe let them loose on the beach nearby,
to air that pent up energy.

Such are the concerns in a house with 4 boys!

We did see some beautiful birds, though not as
many as usual as the rain and wind seemed to keep
them hidden. And then we got to the beach.

There is not much that wakens my senses more than
a stormy sea with waves crashing on the shore. It
was an amazing site.

There was a pause in the rain and we rain out
towards the waves.

The boys started to fly on that beach! I found
myself with arms spread out running into the wind
with the spray of the waves and the light drizzle.

The cold, wet, salty air filled my lungs and I
felt a surge of what I could only describe as joy.

Then the kids got busy; finding shells, drawing in
the sand, poking washed up jelly fish and dodging
the incoming waves. We had to shout to make
ourselves heard with the wind and the crashing
waves.

We didn’t notice how far we had roamed
across the stretch of beach and away from the car.

And then the heavens opened and the rain appeared
in a torrential downpour.

At first we started to run in the direction of the
car realizing how very far way it was. We put up
hoods and closed coats.

“I’m getting wet, soaked” Kai cried. I grabbed
his hand and started running.

And then I realized we could do nothing really.
The car was too far, the rain too heavy and our clothes
not even slightly waterproof.

I lifted up my face to the sky and started
laughing; total surrender. We are powerless in
the forces of nature and what freedom that offers
us.

To trust and surrender and just be in the moment
was my special gift that day.

It occurs to me that this is a broader truth that
relates to my life and my business, and yours too!

We spend so much time and effort fighting what is;
and this manifests in so many ways.

Often we decide not to go out, rather than to risk
getting caught in the rain. This assumes that
being safe is better than taking risk and that
only something bad can come out of it.

How interesting our business would be if we took
more risk and assumed that only good can come out
of this approach (either through the actual gain,
or the exposure and experience).

Often we are over-cautious in the way we dress and
where we go so as not to get wet. So we
experience discomfort in the present moment, in
order to be prepared for what may or may not
happen.

How wonderful it would be to make our business
decisions from a place of comfort right now, to be
truly tuned into the truth in the moment, because
that truth is always there.

Often when we do get caught in the rain, we run
for cover as fast as we can, and then spend
enormous time and effort recalling how terrible it
was. We relive the perceived difficult
experiences in our lives and businesses for much
longer than the actual event lasted. We do this
by telling the negative, disempowering stories.

How amazing it would be to tell our stories, life
and business, in a way that celebrates and
rejoices the growth and learning.

How refreshing it is to go out in the rain.

To feel the downpour, the cold drops trickling down
your back from your collar and your trousers
getting soaked through and sticking to your legs.

How beautiful it is to get completely soaked and
enjoy every precious moment.

The girl sat quite still with her hands fluttering
lightly and her dark browns eyes sparkling and
darting around the room following the
conversation.

I was strangely drawn to her and
the one other girl in the room wearing the bur’qa,
the garment that covered her whole body, head to
foot, aside from a slit for her eyes.

All the other girls wore full head coverings all
different shapes, styles and colors, only these
two were shrouded in black.

And then I started to tell my stories.

I told of a little boy swallowed by a tree and
captured by fairies. I told of my children and
their love of stories.

I told of the mythical Irish hero that I
named my son after.

I told of the recent forest fire and how it had
affected my friends and me; the drama of this
familiar story that they had heard about drew
them in.

I asked their names and who in their life told
them stories. Each person had an answer to
that question.

I had been invited to tell stories at a Bedouin
school in the south of Israel. These are
essentially nomadic people who have become more
settled over the last few decades.

They live mostly in the desert area of the country
and they live a lifestyle that I know little about.

It was a great honor to be there and to meet these
wonderful kids.

I worked with two groups of girls and one group of
boys.

For the second part of the session, we told
a story together. I started with a few sentences
and then as we went around the circle each person
added a word or sentence depending on how well
they understood English and how shy they were
within the group.

Each group told a very different story, the point
was not so much the story itself, but the act of
creating a story together.

And despite their struggle with the language,
they were beautifully engaged.

I had been told that the boys would be difficult,
disinterested and not understand very much; they
were a weak group.

As they jostled into the room I did feel quite nervous.
They sat in a circle and were a mixture of shy,
curious and pretended disinterest.

I started to tell them a story, requesting translation
at the moments that I knew were crucial to them
understanding the plot.

They were enthralled and before my eyes, they turned
into little boys being told a bedtime story by
someone who loved them!

Having four little boys myself at home, I
recognize that look and if truth be told, I love
it!

Their open, pure hearts shined through and it
warmed mine!

As each circle came to a close, I explained the
most important thing.

I told them that when I hear their stories and
they hear mine, there is a connection.

No matter how differently we look, speak and live,
by hearing each other’s stories we learn that we
are more alike than different.

They smiled when I said this and nodded in agreement.

In the very experience of telling and listening to
stories, we don’t just connect, we really make an
impact on the lives of the person opposite us.

Why is this? Because stories stay with us, we
always remember the stories.

Usually when we sit across from someone who looks
so different from us, we make a whole list of
assumptions. Each one proving to us how different
this person really is from us.

So, next time this happens to you, take a moment and
invite them to tell you a story.

As you listen, and they in turn hear your story,
you WILL realize that you are so much more similar
than you are different.

Stories have the power to change hearts and minds.
By telling and listening to stories, we learn to
bridge our differences, heal our wounds and celebrate.

In ancient times storytelling was the main form of
communication. It was the way that values,
traditions and history was passed on to the next
generation. The ways of the tribe, the lessons of
experience were all told through stories. There
was no other way.

And now, we have internet, television, radio,
cinema, theatre, books and lectures; the list goes
on and on.

So, why do we still need storytelling?

There are lots of reasons. I want to talk about
some of them.

Once upon a time we lived in communities where we
were known and supported, not only by our extended
families, but by a whole range of people that
lived near us.

Nowadays it is quite different. My story is very
typical. I grew up in a small Jewish Community in
Dublin, Ireland. Everyone knew who I was, the
daughter, sister, niece, friend of someone else
that they knew! Then I moved away. I moved, not
just to a new community but to a new country on a
whole different continent and then I moved again,
and again! Other than sporadic visits ‘home’, I
never did go back. Other than family, I have very
little contact with the people I grew up with.
Each place I lived was a new adventure and I had
to find a new community; sometimes I found one,
sometimes not.

Like me, most kids leave home to go to college or
get work and never come back again. There can be
a sense of isolation and there is definitely a
breaking-down of the existence of communities in
this modern world.

So, what happens to the stories?
Well, that’s exactly the point. We still need
them. We still need to know how to live with
tradition and values and the lessons of experience
and history, just often we don’t have the
structure that tells us these crucial stories.
This is why there is such a strong craving for
personal connection and a sense of belonging.
This is part of why people want and need to hear
stories.

Do people really want to hear stories?
Absolutely and always; I have yet to meet a person
who does not like to hear a good story!

One reason is that stories reconnect us. On so
many levels (individual, community and society
levels) people are looking for a connection, a
truth, a sense that their life has meaning.

Annette Simmons says, in her amazing book ‘The
Story Factor’ – ‘when you tell a story that touches
me, you give me the gift of human attention…the
kind that connects me to you, that touches my
heart and makes me feel more alive…We crave
something that is real or at least feels real’.

People also crave the simplicity of the story told
by one person to another. We are too often
overwhelmed by information, we have too much
choice. Think about it, every time you decide to
do anything, you have a million choices. Whether
it’s going to a movie or buying a loaf of bread,
even if you want to get a cup of coffee. And
there is so much technology involved! Don’t get me
wrong, I love technology but sometimes I have a
question that I simply want one answer for, I
dont want to know everything there is to know
about the issue. Just tell me what I should do.
Where do I buy a toaster? I don’t need to know
about the phenomenal advances in toaster
technology or even about the 150 suppliers that
have the absolute proven best price, best quality.
I just want make a piece of toast without burning
it so that I can spread on some butter and eat it
with a cup of tea.

In this world of ever changing technology,
sophistication and choice, people are craving the
simplicity of storytelling; they crave the
stories, the listening and the telling. There is
a void that the information age and technology
cannot fill. Storytelling seems to remedy the
very same void that people are looking to fill
when they come to coaching.

‘Something is happening in the power and practice
of story; in the midst of overwhelming noise and
distraction, the voice of story is calling us to
remember our true selves’, Christina Baldwin, ‘The
Storycatcher’.

Next time you need to connect to a community, to
remember the lessons of old and remember your true
self, start listening and telling stories!

This Wonderful Time of Year!

This week was the New Year celebrations, in this
part of the world.

It is usually a time of reflection and
repentance…a time of celebration and awareness…and
above all, a time to get together and eat!

As a child I remember the excitement of the Jewish
New Year. The table would be set beautifully and
candles lit, the room would dance with the
reflection. The smell of the traditional dishes
that would later be devoured would fill the house
and we would wear something new; often a blouse or
new skirt, sometimes our winter shoes. The
clothes were always stiff and too warm but I loved
the smell of the starchy newness and the
excitement that winter was drawing close and the
days becoming shorter.

Once everyone had arrived, the food was ready and
the pre-dinner drinks for the adults and older
teens were drunk, we would move to the dining
room. The blessings were made; the pomegranate or
other new fruit that had not yet been eaten this
year, the apple dipped in honey that would dribble
across the plate, over the table cloth and down
your chin, the bread also dipped in honey with the
salt temporarily left aside until after the
holiday.

There was always interesting conversation at the
table. My two grandmothers would frown at our
brazenness as we often guided the conversation to
shock them and make them blush. My parents always
loved a lively conversation and my father would
reach for a book of reference if he needed to win
an argument. Someone would not listen to someone
else and then everyone would yell at them and take
sides. Usually a stranger at the table would
fascinate us with a story of a different country
or tradition that we had never heard of before,
sometimes it would be a joke or magic trick.

There were always 3 courses of food during the
meal; each more delicious than the last. I don’t
ever remember wanting to leave the table. As the
youngest, I always wanted to be a part of the
conversation, not to miss a word and to be seen as
old enough to have something interesting to say.
Maybe that’s why I started telling stories!

We would say Grace After Meals and my father would
compliment my mother on the delicious food and
then tell her “I’ll keep you for another week”.
My mother would give him the look, the combination
of, don’t push your luck mate, and any chance of
an original joke?

And we would all clear the table, the girls would
wash the dishes while my mother made the coffee
and brought it out with the after 8 mints to the
living room. While we washed the dishes we would
often sing. When I think about it now, it sounds
like a storybook, but it really was like this. Of
course, there were times that we fought about
who’s washing and who’s drying, we’d get irritated
with each other and not want to help at all.

Now I create the magic of Rosh HaShanna for my own
kids. I don’t know if they’ll remember it the way
I do. I don’t know if it will seem so magical
that it�s seems almost unreal. All I can do is be
thankful for the wonderful blessings of my own
memories and hope that I can pass the stories and
magic on.

Happy New Year to you all – may you have a
healthy, joyful and sweet year with fulfillment,
gratitude, abundance and lots of wonderful
stories.

I used to think that I had no idea how to
meditate, that I was one of those people who could
never embrace the practice. I imagined that the
only way I would succeed would be to sit in the
centre of a huge room, or on a cliff top or empty
beach with my legs crossed in some impossible
position; this was certainly a feat beyond me in
those days! I would have to keep my eyes shut,
not be tempted to see anything around me, join my
thumb and first finger and rest my hands on my
knees. I would be the picture of peace, and of
course physically completely comfortable while my
mind would be totally quiet.

Impossible, for me anyway…I’m always thinking of
ten things at once and I seem to have been born
multi-tasking. When I chat with a friend on the
phone I’m usually washing the dishes or making a
salad. When I walk I listen to radio programs or
audios of classes that I’ve missed. When I swim,
I practice my stories or think through new ones.
Never a moment wasted!

And then a strange thing happened…

It was a few years ago. I had been working like
crazy, spending a lot of hours in front of the
computer and even more hours talking on the phone,
sometimes with a headset and sometimes without. I
had reduced my exercise schedule because I
believed that I simply did not have the time. I
had taken on full parenting responsibility as my
partner was spending a lot of time overseas and of
course, I really didn’t need any help!

One day, I took the kids (who were really little
at the time) to the store to buy them shoes for
the winter. With the baby in a carrier, one in a
pram and the ‘big’ boy walking alongside, I bent
down to help take off a pair of shoes and felt an
unbearable ripping sensation in my lower back and
excruciating pain. I couldn’t move.

It was soon after we had moved to a new town in a
new country, I knew very few people and I was in
a shopping mall with three tiny kids and on the
floor, tears of pure agony streaming down my face.
My big boy asked me ‘mommy, what’s wrong?’ and I
managed to just about grimace a small smile and
said, ‘Mommies just hurt her back a bit, don’t worry’
while feeling total panic, what on earth was I to do.

Of course, I managed to find help (my amazing
sister, a few towns away came to the rescue) and
got treatment on the spot for pain and on-going
help to restore my back to working order. But more
importantly, I learnt a few stunning lessons.

* It is so important to know when to ask for help.
There is no shame, there is no issue, just ask
and when necessary, hire help.

* Make sure to have a structure or network in
place, you can’t afford to get stranded, and you
don’t need to either!

* Most things that feel like they need to be done
RIGHT NOW, can actually wait. Be realistic about
what you can and should do – ‘Super Woman’ is a
fictional character, we don’t need to emulate her,
we are amazing already!

* Find moments to be quiet, physically and
mentally. Find the space and place that works for
you. This is really important.

So, now I meditate. It’s not always in the way I
described earlier, in fact it’s rarely like that!
I wish I had the chance to be on a hill top or
deserted beach on a daily basis! Instead I
meditate when I hang laundry out to dry. Really,
it’s one regular activity during which I can escape
my thoughts and multi-tasking, and become still in
my mind. Strange as it sounds, things become
clear for me when I hang laundry or iron clothes!

I make sure to meet with good friends or my mom or
sisters by phone or face to face for coffee and
a chat. I make it a part of my schedule as important
as my business development meetings or coaching
sessions.

And most of all, Yoga is a routine practice for
me, not just classes but what I call my Yoga
thoughts. Just being quiet and conscious of my
breath, while I’m driving the kids to school or
washing dishes, while I’m doing routine work
related tasks.

Taking out moments of the day to still my mind and
my breathing is what makes the difference between
confusion and clarity, physical pain and
well-being, procrastination and productivity.

Sounds simple? It is!

When I was young, yes I know I’m still young, but
I’m talking about REALLY young, I worked on cruise
ships.

I spent almost a year cruising the
Caribbean as a photographer; shooting, printing
(in the days before digital) and selling
photographs of families, couples and fine young
things out for a good time and the four ‘s’ words,
sun, sea, shopping and s…let’s just say love!

The sun shines most days round the islands; they
donned the latest beach fashion and strutted their
stuff on the ship’s promenades, the pool, casino
and restaurants. They were beautiful, young men
and women with sun-cream oiled skin basking in the
glorious sunshine.

The sea is bluer than you can imagine, rich and
deep and inviting, with the occasional appearance
of smiling dolphins riding the waves of the ship
passing and flying fish soaring by as we moved
between the islands.

Each island greeted the ships with offers of
shopping excursions, somewhat reluctant and
grim-faced locals selling their wares to the
holiday stricken passengers out for the best deal,
something different that proved they were really
there!

And the final ‘s’ – let me tell you a story.

One evening I was invited to the ship’s library to
take a photograph of a group of people who wanted
a special token to remember their cruise by. They
were a group of young couples who were celebrating
theirs friend’s upcoming wedding. A kind of joint
bachelor and hen party over the three days of the
cruise and they wanted a group shot that they
could all take home from the trip. I entered the
library and saw that they were in the middle of an
intense conversation. I cleared my throat to draw
their attention and introduced myself.

Are you ready to take the shot? I asked.

Sure, yeah, let’s do it, they replied.

Then one of the guys nudged the other and said “I
bet she has the best answer. Let’s ask her”.
Then a third piped up, “we’re wondering what’s the
wildest place that anyone has done it.. you know
Dave here reckons that maybe you would have a good
story to tell, I mean you have that cute Irish
accent”.

As I set up the group photograph, I joked with
them about how much fun it was to think about the
answer to the question. They were a handsome
group and it was easy to take a good shot. Once I
had finished they reminded me that I owed them an
answer.

So I described a beautiful castle in the west of
Ireland, a hike up a windswept hill and the mist
lifting to reveal the breathtaking view of wild
cliffs and the fierce drop to the pounding waves
of the ocean below.

I described how we had walked up the hill with
the soft rain (a truly Irish phenomena) caressing
our faces and how at the very top of the hill,
we had entered the ruins of the castle.
He had taken my hand and led me up to the
second floor of the broken down, burnt out
building?.

Each person in the group, probably like you, was
leaning forward in anticipation of the next words
that I would say.

I smiled.

I sighed.

And I said “there is nothing in the world more
powerful than love, except perhaps, a really great
story!”

I have yet to meet someone who does not like to
hear a good story. Stories Empower. Stories
Sell. Stories are the way we live and breadth in
the world!

Next time, you need to deliver a message in a
powerful way, simply tell a good story!

Over the last few days I keep seeing hitch-hikers.
It’s like when you buy a red umbrella, the first
you’ve ever seen in your life, and then everyday
for the next week you see them everywhere. Or
when you think you might be pregnant and then
everywhere you look you see women waddling by with
a huge tummy and that excited expectant look!

So, everywhere I look I keep seeing hitch-hikers,
I know it?s the height of summer and everyone is
travelling but it has stirred in me something
quite unexpected!

I look at the young, handsome, bright-eyed and
bushy-tailed travelers and I can’t help but feel a
warm, mushy, longing feeling, actually this is the
mild description. This evening as I drove to a
meeting in the dusk, I felt an intense longing to
be that young and handsome again, to be care-free
with a backpack on my back and my thumb out
waiting for the ride that will take me wherever I
decide to go at that very moment!

Lucy and I arrived at the station in Sienna just
in time to catch the train to Venice. We were
very excited, even though we had been travelling
for several weeks Venice was the place that we had
been aiming for, for quite some time. And the
film festival was just about to start. The train
ran through the night and we arrived in Venice
station at some ungodly hour. It was too late to
find a hostel and too early to start touring so we
looked around the station until we found a waiting
room that we might be lucky enough to catch a few
undisturbed hours of sleep. There was one such
room that was strangely empty; we walked in,
grabbed a row of chairs each and both of us curled
over our backpacks and fell fast asleep.

Several hours later I awoke to the sound of a man
clearing his throat. I opened my eyes and had to
double-take. The man sitting across from me (the
throat clearer) winked at me. He was tall and
blonde, probably in his seventies and wearing a
huge cowboy hat; his suit was bright purple with a
pink stripey shirt and I noticed his hands were
perfectly manicured. The woman sitting next to
him wore a mink coat from head to foot and I
suspected that she wore not much underneath it.
She was in her thirties I reckoned and her hand
that draped over the gentleman?s purple sleeve was
dripping in diamonds and shocking red nails. She
looked bored and stifled a yawn. I looked around
the waiting room to see others in similar garb.

“Luce, Luce wake-up”. I shook her a bit more
violently than I had intended, she nearly fell of
the chair.
“What is it? Where are we”, she asked.
“I dunno”, I whispered, “just check out these people”.
We smiled and quietly grabbed our things and
walked towards the exit. There we found the red
carpet and realized that we had stumbled into the
waiting room of the Orient Express. It was about
to leave on its latest adventure.

We were not invited to join them. However, we did
manage to get a few hours of much needed sleep!

For me, travelling with a backpack, an eye for
adventure and an ear for a story is what life is
all about. You get to meet unexpected people,
hear amazing tales and experience things you never
dreamed of. Every sandwich becomes a feast, every
friendly gesture fills you with gratitude and a
sense of safety and well-being. The beauty of
what awaits you stuns you into silence, joy and
appreciation. It’s always better than you
imagined!

But it doesn’t just have to be when you’re young
and travelling the world with a backpack. These
sights and sounds, people and stories, gestures of
good will and friendship are all around us.
Usually we’re too busy to notice, our schedule
doesn’t allow us the time to sit in a town square
and watch the people. Our kids are too demanding
to let us just drink another cup of coffee and
chat with a stranger.

But who’s to say we can’t just stop and do it anyway.

So, this week, I have decided to do just that.
Imagine that I’m on the road again, that I don’t
have to drive someone somewhere, pick up this and
that and make the deadline. This week I will have
my virtual backpack there and ready so that I can
notice the beauty all around me and take that
extra moment to be thankful for my blessings. Why
don’t you try it too!

There was once a king who offered a prize to the
artist who could paint the best picture of peace.
Many artists tried. The king looked at all of the
pictures. After much deliberation he was down to
the last two. He had to choose between them.
One picture was of a calm lake. The lake was a
perfect mirror for the peaceful mountains that
towered around it. Overhead, fluffy white clouds
floated in a blue sky. Everyone who saw this
picture said that it was the perfect picture of
peace.

The second picture had mountains too. These
mountains were rugged and bare. Above was an angry
gray sky from which rain fell. Lightening flashed.
Down the side of the mountain tumbled a foaming
waterfall. This did not appear to be a peaceful
place at all. But, when the king looked closely,
he saw that behind the waterfall was a tiny bush
growing in the rock. Inside the bush, a mother
bird had built her nest. There, in the midst of
the rush of angry water, sat the mother bird on
her nest. She was the perfect picture of peace.

The king chose the second picture. “Because,” he
explained, “peace is not only in a place where
there is no noise, trouble, or hard work. Peace is
in the midst of things as they are, when there is
calm in your heart. That is the real meaning of
peace.”

(I heard this story from Suzi Wolf, Storyteller -
thankyou!)

This week we celebrated my niece’s Bat-Mitzvah;
her “coming-of-age” in Jewish culture. We wanted
to create a meaningful ceremony that would be
steeped in tradition but not overbearingly
religious. So we had 7 women give 7 blessings,
each one relating to a value or practice in our
tradition. We held the gathering outside in a
stunning Nature Park; it was a beautiful ceremony.

I was delighted to hear that most of the women
chose to bless Samantha through a story. The
power of storytelling goes so far beyond regular
words. We spoke of humility, generosity and love;
we spoke of beauty, peace and tradition; we spoke
of respect, values and family.

I told this story of peace, in the context of the
Jewish practice of observing the Sabbath. On this
special day some people stay home in reflection
and prayer, others go for a hike or to the beach
but each person in their own way marks this day of
peaceful rest; this day that is different from all
other days. It is the day that we can give
ourselves the gift of rest, a change of scene and
a more balanced and peaceful perspective of our
busy, rushed day to day living. It truly is a
blessing to allow yourself a day of rest, whenever
it is and however you choose to celebrate it.

My niece has been welcomed into the world of
women. It was a moving and joyful event. The
whole world awaits her now; she can choose to be
whomever she wants and to live her life however
she wants. My hope and blessing for her (and for
you!) is to remember to embrace the concept of the
day of rest. To remember to reward ourselves for
a week well lived, to embrace the idea of peace as
a living, breathing entity that has an active part
of the life we choose to live; a life of
gratitude, generosity and celebration.

The combination of beautiful nature, the company
of family and friends and the effort of a few
people to create something meaningful and special
was a blessing in itself. I encourage you to try
it, with a little bit of thought and some
preparation you too can make a ceremony or event
that can create meaning and beautiful memories for
a lifetime.

If you’ve been working to
grow your business for a while
now and things aren’t happening
as fast as you want, then I’d like
to help you create a MAJOR
business BREAKTHROUGH.
Here’s the idea…

I’ve heard from a lot of women
entrepreneurs that they are having
an especially difficult time getting
their business to grow fast these days.
After hearing about so many people’s
struggles, I decided to do take action

** NEW, For a Limited Time **

I’d like to invite you to take
advantage of a special, ‘Business
Breakthrough’ coaching session. And
I’m making it available to
EVERYONE… even those of you who have
had free sessions with me in the past!

During this special one-on-one,
45-minute coaching session,
you’ll discover

=> The single, most important step
you can take towards attracting ideal clients

=> Your crystal clear vision
for your ‘ultimate business success’
and the ‘perfect lifestyle’ you’d like
your business to provide

=> The hidden challenges
that may be sabotaging the
growth of your business and
keeping you working too
many hours

And.. you’ll leave this session renewed,
re-energized, and inspired to create the story
that will make your business highly profitable,
and your life balanced and joyful

To claim your special “Business Breakthrough
Coaching Session” today, simply email
lisa@story-coach.com and answer these questions:

1. What are your biggest fears and
frustrations when it comes to creating business
success?
2. What do you see as the major
challenges holding you and your
business back from growing at the
pace you want?
4. What would you most like help with?

Be sure to include your name, phone number
and email address so someone from my office can
get back to you within the next 24 to 48 hours to
schedule your one-on-one “Business Breakthrough
Coaching Session.”

Reply now to claim your session today.

Best Wishes
Lisa

P.S. I can’t wait to hear how great
things are for you once your business takes off!