Man Oman

How did I get here? The question struck me as I sat one day in the living room of a country home belonging to an Omani gentleman; more specifically, the country home of the gentleman’s Wife Number One. I was surrounded by women dressed in their traditional apparel, their heads covered, but not their faces. Young children ran and played around us, speaking a language I could not understand. Wife Number Two and her family were across the way in their villa. A swimming pool between the two homes is shared by both families. Am I really here? Yes, I really am here. Oman is a small country in the Middle East. I live in Muscat, a city that is five km wide and sixty km long, having been built between the mountains and the Sea of Arabia. The beauty of the people and the country often takes my breath away. What would my mother think? She passed away a year-and-a-half before I came here, and I still often feel her presence. When she was alive, she was my number one supporter, but I believe my living in Muscat, Oman, in the Middle East, would be a big stretch for her. Yet I feel her loving support often in this part of the world. If she were still alive and healthy, I would bring her to Oman for a visit and show her this beautiful, peaceful, gentle country. She would like it. Once, I heard my Dad, who is still alive, joke about coming to visit me. I was surprised, as Dad rarely leaves “the farm,” as he would call it. (In reality, “the farm” is five acres of land out in the country, in Manitoba, Canada. Mom was a gardener and Dad has been able to keep her gardens alive and verdant.) I lived in Saskatchewan for sixteen years and Dad came to visit twice, a ten-hour drive. I would be very surprised if he’d come to Oman, a seventeen-hour plane ride to the other side of the world. But here I am. My mom once said to my sister that I was a bit of a nomad, never really settling down, and she was right. The years I spent raising my son alone were probably the most settled years of my life. But my son has finished university, and has become a grown man of whom I am very proud. So it’s my time now. When I began planning my move, I was not sure where I would end up, but I hoped, and continue to hope, to travel and to experience all that life has to offer in different parts of the world. I love adventure! I’m often asked how I ended up in Muscat. Before I came, I’d spent the previous eight years building my business: coaching clients, speaking professionally, and writing. I was fortunate to have many clients in Canada and the US, and felt blessed and privileged for the opportunity to work with them. People often ask, what kind of coaching do you do? Simply, I work with business people, helping them identify and develop their strengths to fulfil their dreams. Every case is different. The analogy often used is that of Tiger Woods. As a professional golfer, he had a coach whose job it was to only observe from a distance and provide insight into the strengths and weaknesses of his client. Tiger Woods wished to continually improve. My clients are accomplished people who want to continually improve and be the best that they can be. In December of 2006, at the Canadian Association of Professional Speakers Conference in Ottawa, I attended a session on speaking internationally. The facilitator of the session lit a spark in me, a desire to work and travel around the world. Then in June of 2007, I attended a conference in Dubai on building a speaking business in the Gulf Coast Countries (GCC). After that eye-opening experience, I felt inspired to take the leap. November, 2007: I received an email from a friend, forwarded from a gentleman – a Dr. Mohammed – whom she had met while taking a course. He was looking for someone who was a professional speaker and a business coach who might be interested in moving to Oman to provide those services there. Was I interested? When? Where? Really? Who is this man? They need a coach and a speaker? My intuition told me that the venture was right up my alley. But what kind of country is Oman? Do the people speak English? What about the status of women? Do I want to go there? Why would I? Yes, I had a million questions back then. I was ready. Or so I thought. (Are you ever really ready?) When I got that email in November, I had to confront the question. I decided that the best thing to do was to pursue the opportunity and see what happened. I replied to the email: yes, I was interested.