Who is Kate the Coach?!
How a less-than-rosy life produced a driven, experienced problem solver—a tongue-in-cheek account.
Angelo: Kate, hmmm. She was a bit naughty in her previous lifetime. The Boss was not happy. Her assignment was to help people. Still is.
Angela: That’s rather broad, don’t you think? She could get confused about what to do. Help them cook? Fix their cars? Rescue stranded motorists? Talk them out of marrying idiots? Help how?
Angelo: Fine. Give her an insatiable curiosity about how humans work—brain, metabolism, behavior—the whole shebang. All that study will keep her out of mischief.
Angela: That sounds lonely. And she’ll need more than curiosity. We don’t want her sitting in a library with books all day. What’s knowledge without action?
Angelo: All right! Deeeeep empathy. Let her feel the pain of others. She’ll have an urge to rescue those in trouble. Bullies should beware. Disaster relief training, first aid. She’ll long to become a medical doctor, but she hasn’t earned that yet. I suppose we can make her a toughie. We’re going to put her through a lot.
Angela: When will she figure all this out—her mission? It’s a serious mission. I think we should let her have some fun first.
Angelo: Fun is overrated. OK, fine. Seven years of fun. She can work as a flight attendant—that’s fun. But that’s it. Then it’s frustration and failures, obesity and depression, bipolar and Asperger’s autism, big dreams with big flops, financial ruin and divorce, abuse and being scammed, homelessness and smoking addiction, loss and social isolation. She has to feel the pain to know what she’s rescuing folks from. I’d say a half-century of that will knock some sense and humility into her, and she’ll figure out what she’s supposed to do.
Angela: I still think that sounds a bit lonely. What about companionship?
Angelo: OK, toss a bone in the bowl here. She can rescue dogs. Especially old dogs. Humans tend to ignore the plight of old dogs. Ain’t right. Man’s Best Friend.
Angela: Wait a minute. A half-century? Fifty years seems excessive. The Boss only made the Israelites wander in the desert for forty years. If you’re going to make her flounder around for fifty before she figures it out, will she have enough time left to actually do anything useful?
Angelo: Well, this recipe has some pretty good longevity ingredients. She might make it to 101—as long as she takes decent care of herself. If she still hasn’t figured out her assignment by 74, we’ll send messengers to haunt her dreams. The Boss wants at least 25 years of service from her this time.
Angela: And if she ignores the messengers?
Angelo: No dogs next time.
Angela: Angelo!
Angelo: What? We need leverage.
The dream messages began in the summer of 2024, when I was 74. There were twelve in all. It took me nearly two years to understand what some of them might mean—and to decide what I was going to do about them.
Now, at 76, I think I finally understand the assignment. Whether the messengers came from God, my unconscious, or somewhere I cannot explain, they led me here: to create Odyssey80.
Sofia, Gabriela and I have begun our new chapter in Texas. Now it is time to help someone else begin theirs.