I really wondered how I was going to tell you.
That it wasn’t working for me.
And although I don’t regret just going for it, and making my first coaching offer Saturday March 9, and my first yoga offer on my Dutch Harteveld site only four days ago (!) things have changed.
And I did not see this coming, although in hindsight…. yes, I could have.
Let me start with a small recap:
I ve been a writer under pen name LS Harteveld since 2006, and I have ten books out. Four new ones are snuggled up somewhere in my computer, because I have not been seeing them a lot, lately. So for the past 13 years I ve been a writer and a publisher.
But I m best known locally, as a yoga teacher under my real name.
I ve been teaching group yoga from 2003-2018 when I quit my business because it wasn’t making enough money. I didn’t seem to have the stamina to save my business by (also) teaching privates.
My heart didn’t seem to be into it, I don’t know. It was all a bit strange.
Perhaps because making the switch from groups to privates turned out to be about a lot more than just a new business model. A lot of stuff came up.
About the nature of yoga, and about my own nature (being an introvert). I felt guilty over a variety of things.
For having executed such a profession, that I seriously questioned.
That yoga was energetic micro-management compared to just letting your passion and your sexual juices flow, and step out of your post-Christian box of what’s right and wrong.
That was one of them.
But I also felt guilty (and this is contradictory) both for being an introvert and therefor always feeling bad after teaching – like you ve given everything, yet were unable to connect with anyone specifically in a group setting, and therefor go home feeling shaky and vulnerable.
Yet I also felt bad for not having been able to make the studio work and save their group classes, or at least not on the schedule or locations that they preferred.
It felt like I was letting them down times triple.
My principal concerns.
The introvert thing.
And ultimately not being able to offer continuity.
That continuity, and offering the same thing year after year, was one of the major reasons I looked forward to dropping it, didn’t seem to matter. All I felt was this massive guilt and shame.
So when I started fresh, here under this name, where I would teach about the macros of energy management, and unlocking the big pots of energy and not just the cups, I was serious about picking up coaching and teaching yoga as LS Harteveld.
I was looking forward to it.
But two things happened, almost simultaneously.
It was a slippery slope that started almost immediately after creating the coaching offer, and ended yesterday, when I made the decision to pull back my yoga and coaching offers for LS Harteveld.
The first thing that happened in this month, was that I created an offer teaching yoga privates under my own name.
The coaching offer had sparked this!
Don’t ask me how that works, but apparently designing a no holds barred coaching offer for women under your identity of choice, LS Harteveld, leads to feeling inspired to start teaching the sweetest, cutest, version of yoga imaginable. Under your real name.
I referred to it as Fischer Price yoga, because it was childlike and innocent.
And I found myself looking forward to that, than to coaching or teaching privates as LS Harteveld.
Even though I had been claiming for months what I really wanted was to connect with people on the big stuff. Not on the “yoga”, which I deemed superficial.
It didn’t make sense AT ALL.
I had paved the way to go all in, coaching and teaching on the Sex Is Life And Success Thing (that was not the name of my program, but perhaps it should have been) and then I find myself looking forward to start teaching Fischer Price yoga?!
So that was an unexpected setback.
And the second one was:
I started to feel awkward sharing my true message.
The idea that I was now a professional coach and private yoga teacher, was holding me back from doing what I normally do, on this blog perhaps, but mainly on Twitter.
I felt super-conscious when I interacted with porn stars, something I had never felt weird about when I was “only” a writer.
But positioning myself as a professional on the same exact ideas I had written about for years on end, came with a kind of responsibility that I didn’t want.
I wanted to be free.
I didn’t want to make any money as a coach or yoga teacher, as LS Harteveld. It felt just as constrictive as being a yoga teacher under my real name had felt, those 15 years.
So I decided I would turn it ALL back.
This week I will clear all my accounts, rewrite all my bios, delete all my sales offers, until there is only one thing left:
The one YOU are reading right now.
I may keep the Dutch blog on, should the mood strike ever again to write in Dutch.
Same with my YouTube:
I ll keep it on should I feel the urge to make a video.
But I don’t expect it.
And yet I also know I will need this account, these blog posts, more than ever.
That I will write, more than ever.
Because now that I have to keep that other account all Fischer Price, all light. Where else would I turn but here, to speak about the unspeakable?
The things that shake you, make you feel weird and insecure?
I have doves on my balcony. Originally I made an effort to chase them away, but the male stayed, and I gave up.
I even reversed some of the measures, so that it was a better hiding spot, and his girlfriend returned as well. I didn’t like her very much, maybe it was jealousy. But if the male liked her, that was all that mattered.
I wasn’t going to be a cock blocker.
Then last night she didn’t come home.
This afternoon I saw her. She was limping. She used the water I always have for them here. The seeds I give them each morning were already gone.
I felt bad for her, she looked like she needed saving.
After she left, and for unknown reasons, I leaned over the balcony to inspect the other balconies, or the building. I don’t know why I looked.
But I saw one balcony with spikes. Spikes designed especially to keep doves from landing on the balustrade.
It made me sick to my stomach, thinking how it must have wounded her.
And that I couldn’t do anything about it, except make her stay comfortable.
I started cleaning their corner, so that it would be more hygienic. I know dove droppings are dangerous, but I didn’t care. If God wanted me dead because I was taking care of his beings it was fine by me.
I cleaned the water.
And I realized that if people were paying me to be happy, and childlike, that I was in need more than ever, of a blog where I could share the nitty gritty painful stuff.
As tears started rolling down my cheeks.
An unexamined life is not worth living
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1. Reboot – a hero’s journey. Diary 2017-2019
2. I M NOT CHANGING MY FUCKING SHOW
3. Big Mistress – confessions, columns and sex advice from the other woman
4. Blote Kont- verhalen over mannen, macht en dagjes uit (Dutch)
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