Guten Tag, Reader,

When I say “I yelled” into the receiver last week, I am understating. I was SCREAMING. Yes, there was some spit flying. I was out of my chair and bent over my phone as I told them what I was thinking about their lack of competence and ability.

At this point, you may wonder two things:

1. When will she finally tell me which poor soul was at the other end of the line?
2. Isn’t she a life coach? I thought those don’t get mad like that.

I will get to those things, but first, let me welcome those of you who just joined the joy letter community as I have started telling people on social media that I will be leaving social media. I’d love you to reply and share a little about yourself:

Who and where are you? What are you hoping to read about in upcoming letters?

Okay. Now.

On the other end of the phone line was a computer—a call tree—asking me questions and then wholly ignoring my answers—you know, the kind. Luckily, no human was hurt in the making of this experience or the writing of this letter.

Well, my husband was slightly startled at my reaction’s intensity. As was I, quite frankly.

And whenever I react unreasonably strongly to what’s a slight annoyance on any other day, I know something is up. Or down. And it’s usually my autonomic nervous system. If you had a bodily reaction just thinking about your last interaction with an AI chatbot or an endless loop of “Press 1 if you have 30 minutes to spare in a call tree of doom,” YOUR autonomic nervous system reacted to that threat.

I almost digressed into a while treatise on Polyvagal Theory and Nervous System Regulation. If you want me to in some future letter, let me know.

Circling back to who I was yelling at and whether life coaches shouldn’t flip out like that.

The vehemence of my anger with the machine voice triggered a trained response:

Pause.

Move.

Breathe.

Inquire.*

And I realized I hadn’t been yelling at the machine; my target had been time. My actual words had been, “I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THIS BULLSHIT!!!”

Poor time.

I am angry with time a lot. I can never get enough of her, but as soon as she gives me a little extra, I chase her away by scrolling through who-knows-what on my phone.

I don’t honor her, appreciate her, hardly even notice her.

I know this, and I keep promising her to do and be better – without a plan to actually do so.

Time and I are in a toxic relationship, and I am the toxic one.

Who can blame her for not wanting to hang out much anymore? Not me.

The 9th Step in a 12-Step program asks to “make amends wherever possible.” It’s nobody’s favorite Step. Those amends can start with words but must always be followed up with “living amends,” a behavior change.

The morning after the incident, I used my morning pages to write an amends letter to time.

First, I thanked her for all she allows me to do, for the abundance in which she shows up in my life, and for her continued support, even when I behave like an asshat.

Next, I took responsibility for my actions and my words. I listed how I had done time a disservice, trampling on our relationship and breaking my promises to take better care of her.

Finally, I was pretty specific about the steps I will take to do better:

• Quit social media.
• Stick to the expansive activities we have agreed on rather than defaulting to the numbing ones that keep us both small.
• Check in with her every morning about how I did the day before and the plan for the day.

And that’s the life coaching difference.

Coaches' lives aren’t perfect; neither are we.**

But And we have and use tools to notice, regulate, inquire, address. And yes, sometimes we can’t solve it by ourselves, and we work with another coach who can be a neutral, more compassionate co-creator of a different result.

I’d love to hear from you about your relationship with time: Love? Hate? Love/Hate?

And if you want a partner in co-creating a different relationship with time (or money or creativity or nature or your Self) in 2025, let’s chat. You can book a meet-the-coach call here or start by hitting reply.

I will see you back here in two weeks. If you liked this letter, please forward it to a friend.

Always on your side, truly,

*If you are familiar with Polyvagal Theory, you might recognize how I guided myself up the stated from a sympathetic fight/flight response to a ventral state in which I was able to inquire about the cause for my freakout.

**Some coaches – lots of them among the productivity bros – pretend otherwise, but they are probably dishonest, and I would definitely NOT hire any of them.

p.s. If you got something from today's letter, why not buy me a coffee? I am keeping my writing AI-free, so I put much work into it. You can leave me a tip here.