Latest news with #selfHelp
Yahoo
4 days ago
- Health
- Yahoo
If You Do This You're More Anxious And Reactive Than You Realize
Navigating the chaos of modern life, with its endless stream of notifications and societal pressures, means you're not just juggling tasks—you're often wrestling with your own psyche. In an era where mental health is finally taking center stage, understanding the nuances of anxiety is more crucial than ever. But sometimes, you might not even realize how anxious and reactive you truly are. Here's a deep dive into some signs that suggest your inner world might be more turbulent than you think. Your mind is a whirlpool of thoughts, constantly spinning scenarios and replaying conversations that happened hours—or even years—ago. You dissect every word and action, as if you're a detective on the hunt for hidden meanings. It's not just exhausting; it can make you feel like you're trapped in your own head. A study in the Journal of Abnormal Psychology even noted that chronic overthinking significantly correlates with increased anxiety levels. Rather than finding solutions, overthinking often leaves you more confused and worried. You may find yourself spiraling into 'what if' scenarios that are not only improbable but also counterproductive. It's as if you're living life two steps removed, always anticipating the worst instead of being present in the moment. Your inner critic is loud, relentless, and always on call, making it hard to find peace. When something happens—good or bad—your emotional response is immediate and intense. You react before you even have a chance to think it through, leaving you to later ponder why you snapped or cried or laughed too loudly. It's as if your emotions have a velocity that outpaces your logic. This knee-jerk reaction pattern often leaves you feeling remorseful or embarrassed afterward. In conversations, you find it challenging to pause and just listen. Instead, you're quick to defend yourself or voice an opinion, even when it's not needed. It's not that you want to dominate the dialogue; it's just that your emotions are so amplified, you feel compelled to release them. Your heart races, your palms sweat, and suddenly your response is out there, irreversible. For you, bedtime isn't a respite; it's merely a change of scenery. Your thoughts take on a life of their own at night, and instead of winding down, your mind seems to rev up. You find yourself staring at the ceiling, replaying the day's events or worrying about tomorrow's unknowns. According to sleep expert Dr. Matthew Walker, poor sleep and anxiety are a vicious cycle—each exacerbating the other, leaving you trapped in a restless loop. Your body feels the effects of this endless mental marathon. Dark circles become permanent residents on your face, and fatigue is your constant companion. You consider sleep aids, but fear dependency or dulling your senses. It's a nightly battle between the need for rest and the inability to shut down. You have an insatiable desire to keep everything just so, a habit of controlling minutiae to stave off chaos. When plans change unexpectedly, your anxiety flares up, leaving you scrambling to regain your footing. While structure can be healthy, this need for control often stems from a fear of unpredictability. It's a coping mechanism, a way to assert order over an otherwise chaotic world. You make lists, organize your space, and plan out each day meticulously. This gives you a temporary sense of security, but when things don't go your way, it feels as if the rug has been pulled out from under you. Life's unpredictability becomes a source of constant stress, leaving you feeling vulnerable and exposed. Instead of embracing spontaneity, you cling to your routines like a lifeline. Walking into a room, you instinctively scan to gauge everyone's emotional temperature. It's almost as if you've developed an antenna for mood swings, always on high alert for changes in tone or expression. Research by Dr. Elaine Aron on Highly Sensitive Persons suggests that this heightened awareness can be both a gift and a burden, heightening emotional reactivity and stress levels. The smallest shift in someone's demeanor can set your mind racing with assumptions and worries. You internalize these mood fluctuations, often blaming yourself for someone else's bad day. It's as if you're the emotional custodian of everyone around you, always attuned to external cues but often neglecting your own emotional needs. This self-imposed responsibility can be draining and isolating. The prospect of a party or any social event fills you with a mix of excitement and dread. You enjoy being around people, but the effort it takes to navigate social dynamics and maintain appearances leaves you exhausted. You often find yourself rehearsing conversations beforehand, trying to anticipate every possible outcome. Once there, you're constantly checking if you've said the right thing or appeared interested enough. Your energy depletes rapidly, and you can almost feel the countdown to when you can politely leave. You're hyper-sensitive to the ebbs and flows of the gathering, whether it's a lull in conversation or an awkward pause. The pressure to engage, entertain, and exist as a social entity becomes overwhelming. You leave feeling relieved but also questioning every interaction, wondering if you left the right impression. Your daily agenda is a never-ending saga of tasks, obligations, and looming deadlines. No matter how much you accomplish, it never feels like enough, leaving you perpetually on edge. As noted by productivity expert David Allen, an overstuffed to-do list can lead to a constant state of anxiety, making you feel like you're in a hamster wheel with no exit. The more you try to tackle, the more you add, as if you're trying to outrun your own sense of inadequacy. You equate productivity with self-worth, meaning any unchecked item is a personal failing. This relentless pursuit of achievement often overshadows moments of relaxation or joy. Instead of celebrating what you've done, you're fixated on what's next. A sudden noise—a honk, a shout, a phone ringing—can make your heart leap into your throat. Your body reacts instantly, muscles tensed and adrenaline surging. It's as if you're perpetually braced for impact, even when there's no immediate threat. This heightened sense of alertness can be a hallmark of anxiety, keeping you in a constant state of readiness. You find yourself avoiding environments with too much unpredictability or noise. Crowded places, busy streets, or even bustling social settings can feel like sensory overload. You yearn for quiet, for spaces where you can lower your guard. Yet, even in silence, your mind is a cacophony of thoughts and worries, never truly at rest. Whenever someone offers constructive criticism, you instinctively go on the defensive. It feels less like guidance and more like an assault on your very character. You start questioning your abilities and replaying the conversation, searching for hidden motives. The weight of others' opinions hangs heavy on you, often overshadowing your self-assessment. This sensitivity to feedback often stems from a perfectionist mindset. You strive for flawlessness, and any hint of critique feels like validation of your worst fears. Instead of seeing feedback as a tool for growth, you perceive it as an indictment of your worth. It's a challenging cycle to break, as your self-esteem becomes intertwined with external validation. Memories, especially the painful ones, cling to you like a shadow. You replay mistakes, missed opportunities, and regrets with relentless precision. It's as if your brain has cataloged every misstep, keeping them readily available for moments of self-doubt. This rumination prevents you from moving forward, anchoring you to a version of yourself you wish you could change. The ghosts of the past haunt your present, manifesting as hesitation, fear, and reluctance. You're wary of repeating old patterns, even if the circumstances have changed. It's a protective mechanism, yet it often cages you in a narrative of your own making. Freedom lies in acceptance, but anxiety makes that a steep climb. Your phone is both a lifeline and a source of anxiety, buzzing with reminders of what you should have done or need to do. Notifications become small detonations of stress, pulling you away from the present moment. You're caught in a cycle of checking, scrolling, and comparing, always plugged in but often feeling disconnected. Digital life feels like an endless treadmill that you can't step off. Social media amplifies your insecurities, providing a curated view of everyone else's seemingly perfect life. You find yourself comparing your raw behind-the-scenes to others' highlight reels, amplifying feelings of inadequacy. The pressure to maintain an online persona adds another layer of stress. Disconnecting feels impossible, yet staying connected feels equally overwhelming. Headaches, stomach aches, and muscle tension are frequent visitors, as if your body is in constant rebellion. Anxiety doesn't just reside in your mind; it manifests physically, reminding you of its presence. You might brush off these symptoms as mere inconveniences, but they are often your body's way of signaling distress. Ignoring them only exacerbates the underlying anxiety, creating a feedback loop of discomfort. Your body becomes a battleground, a visible representation of the turmoil within. You might try quick fixes—pain relievers, caffeine, sugar—to mask the symptoms, but they only offer temporary relief. It's easy to overlook the connection between mental strain and physical health, yet they are intrinsically linked. Addressing the root cause is essential, though it often feels like an insurmountable task. The mere thought of confrontation sends you into a tailspin, heart pounding, mind racing. You'd rather bite your tongue and swallow your emotions than engage in a dispute. It's not just about keeping the peace; it's about self-preservation, as conflict feels like a direct threat to your emotional equilibrium. Yet, avoiding it often means suppressing your true feelings, leading to resentment and festering wounds. You prioritize harmony, sometimes at the expense of your own needs and boundaries. Saying 'yes' becomes a default, even when you're screaming 'no' internally. This aversion to conflict is rooted in fear—fear of judgment, fear of rejection, fear of escalation. But in avoiding confrontation, you often sacrifice your authenticity and leave issues unresolved. Routine is your sanctuary, a predictable pathway that offers respite from the chaos of uncertainty. It's not just about organization; it's about finding a semblance of control in an uncontrollable world. While routines can be grounding, for you, they're a lifeline, a constant amidst the flux of life's unpredictability. Deviations from this routine can send you spiraling, as if the ground beneath you has shifted. Your day is a series of rituals, each providing a sense of safety and continuity. But this reliance on routine can also be limiting, as spontaneity becomes synonymous with insecurity. You long for adventure and novelty, yet fear the unpredictability that comes with them. Routine becomes both your comfort and your cage. Your emotional spectrum is vast, feeling joy, sadness, and everything in between with heightened intensity. While this can make life rich and vivid, it also means your lows are particularly deep and consuming. You're the person who cries at commercials and is profoundly moved by art, music, and literature. While these emotions make you empathetic and compassionate, they can also be overwhelming and isolating. This intensity often means you're more susceptible to emotional burnout. You absorb the energies and emotions of those around you, leaving you drained without knowing why. It's a double-edged sword, as your vulnerability is both your strength and your Achilles' heel. Finding balance in this emotional landscape is not easy, but necessary for your well-being.
The Guardian
5 days ago
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
Hustling is out, healing is in: what I learned following 400 online gurus
Some years ago, I started writing a novel. The novel satirises the world of executive coaching and, as part of my research, I began to follow some coaches and motivational speakers online. It started with corporate leadership coaches preaching banal management advice. But it slid quickly into chaos as I surrendered – with dreadful compulsion – to the algorithm. Within months I was following every kind of online coach in the Anglosphere, from divorce coaches, parenting coaches and habit-stacking coaches through to neurolinguistic programmers, flow-state TEDx gurus, money-manifestation mentors and Ponzi-style coach-coaches. I was inside a teeming ecosystem; a lawless jungle of competing advisers, all of them hawking prerecorded masterclasses. Now I'm sharing my key learnings from this confusing period – but with one caveat: I am much stupider now than I was when I started this journey. Hear me out! I implemented the one-touch rule for a tidy house recommended by a habit coach. It really helped with my household overwhelm and despair, until I stopped doing it. A wellness coach told me to give myself a gold star on a physical calendar for every day I exercised – and it worked. I was motivated. I resisted the urge to drop $399 on a pdf handbook written by the same coach; I may be desperate, but I'm not rich. Sign up for the fun stuff with our rundown of must-reads, pop culture and tips for the weekend, every Saturday morning This is especially true in the world of dodgy business coaches. Who signs up for a pricey passive-income content portal run by a seasoned grifter? Aspiring grifters. Although the offer is actually pretty enticing. Who wouldn't want to learn how to build an evergreen sales loop? Now if I were rich … Punters have grown cynical about charlatan coaches with their luxury lifestyles and super-polished Instagram feeds. In response, many coaches have pivoted hard into realness, setting up cameras to film themselves blubbering in their most vulnerable moments. 'Truth is: even after building the life I dreamed of, I STILL get impostor syndrome.' Every time I think we have reached peak internet mucus, someone ups the ante. Coaches want to be raw and real. They'll teach you to 'get shit done'' and 'unfuck the world'. My favourite example was a Denver-based wellness expert who stormed a TEDx stage shrieking, 'Time to get holistic as fuck!' Even before the pandemic, the #riseandgrind lifestyle promoted by leading Silicon Valley coaches – 5am wake-up followed by treadmill, breath work, supplements and back-to-back strategy meetings – was starting to look tired. Today self-care is ascendant. Self-discipline is for chumps. Most coaches now teach us to navigate boundaries and comfort zones, avoid burnout, process our past, regulate our nervous systems and be kind to ourselves. Tedcore reigns supreme, with its soothing blend of therapy-speak and pop-philosophy, its confusing mishmash of science and pseudoscience, its incessant pathologies and its endless cult of the self. Sign up to Saved for Later Catch up on the fun stuff with Guardian Australia's culture and lifestyle rundown of pop culture, trends and tips after newsletter promotion This is especially big among the feminine embodiment types but also, interestingly, among the money-manifesters. And – look – I wish them well in their erotic endeavours, I really do. It's the logical conclusion of the cult of the self, after all. But it is hilarious to imagine the pre-production work that goes into their spiciest aspirational and erotic content. Imagine arranging candles, flower petals and some rented Louis Vuitton handbags around your bedroom, then pressing record to film yourself either actually wanking or delivering a breathy lecture about why it's such an enriching pastime. I'm suss on the self-care gurus who always lure me into luxurious self-pity. Is my procrastination a sign of laziness? Of course not. Coach Katy says it's just my chronic perfectionism. Or maybe a trauma response. Take me back to the biohacker guys with their growth mindsets and solemn data-driven daily protocols. Now I've finished researching, I don't need all these advisers any more. I have slowly begun to purge them from my feed, burrowing myself out of the unsavoury self-improvement hovel I've built for myself. I am emerging like a blinking mole into the daylight, an over-counselled, disoriented mole – unsure if she needs to heal or habit-stack. A post-truth mole who sniffs the air and finds her instincts totally scrambled. My nose – once keen and reliable – can no longer distinguish between TEDx horseshit and actual horseshit, let alone pseudoscience and actual science, queasy therapy-speak and solid advice. God help me. Sophie Quick is the author of The Confidence Woman (Allen & Unwin, $32.99)
Vogue
21-06-2025
- Entertainment
- Vogue
This Stupidly Simple Trick Helped Me Reduce My Screen Time by a Third
Earlier this year, I read a book that changed my life: Jenny Odell's How to Do Nothing. First published in 2019 and gifted to me by a friend and colleague shortly thereafter (thank you, Emily Chan), I had initially resisted opening it because I'd assumed that it was a self-help book that would tell me to switch off and decamp to a yurt in the countryside, living off the land and staring at the sky for entertainment. But no: Odell's tome is actually an art book disguised as a self-help book. She is an artist, writer, and academic who uses examples within contemporary art to make us consider the mechanics of the attention economy—how it keeps us absorbed, addicted, anxious, and unable to fully focus on anything beyond our devices. It is, very staunchly, not a book filled with tips and tricks, but one which seeks to reframe your thinking and make you more aware of the digital stimulants constantly competing for your attention—the ads glowing brightly in an attempt to catch your eye, the apps designed to keep you scrolling endlessly, and the bombardment of notifications that compel you to work through them before you can do anything else. Since reading it, I've become so much more conscious of how I interact with my phone. It's all well and good to be on it, or on your laptop, when you actually have something to do, but what about when you don't? Why am I listlessly swimming through a stream of content when I don't need to be? It's how I realized that I love the Letterboxd app—it's generally pretty dark, unstimulating, and free of notifications, which means I can pop on to look at it and easily pop out again. It's also how I reassessed my relationship with Duolingo. The latter is an app designed to keep users coming back daily, with its emphasis on streaks and leaderboards, but I came to understand that I could just tap into it when I wanted to learn something and then choose to put it away at other times. Yes, the app punishes me for not maintaining my streak (I have often seen the green owl mascot crying at my lack of consistency), but this is my small, intentional act of resistance.
The Guardian
02-06-2025
- Entertainment
- The Guardian
‘Deliciously addictive', ‘dripping with suspense': the best Australian books out in June
Science fiction, Pan Macmillan, $34.99 What does it mean to build a new world from the wreckage of a broken one? This question lies at the heart of Jennifer Mills' mesmerising new novel, Salvage, which tracks the fortunes of two estranged sisters: gruff, defensive Jude and spectral Celeste. This is a work of speculative fiction, set in a near-future ravaged by war and climate crisis. To survive the chaos, Jude is convinced she needs to shed her past and avoid attachments. But she's wrong, and the arc of the novel tracks her realisation that building a new world requires care and community. Salvage is a timely and surprisingly optimistic manual for navigating our present polycrisis. – Catriona Menzies-Pike Nonfiction, Simon & Schuster, $36.99 Most self-help books are peppered with personal stories that illustrate their advice. Though the tone is light and chatty, with bullet-point takeaways, that's not what you'll get from The Introvert's Guide to Leaving the House, by frequent the Guardian Australia contributor Jenny Valentish. Instead the book reads like the memoir of a writer who has learned how to help herself. The mirror Valentish holds to readers is not always flattering. She explores tendencies toward grandiosity and the unpleasant impacts inwardness can have on other people. For that reason, her efforts to understand her limited appetite for socialising offer something rare for the self-help genre: genuine insight. – Alyx Gorman Short stories, Simon & Schuster, $32.99 Lucy Nelson's debut collection of stories is centred on women – of a wide range of ages and in many different contexts – who don't have children. Some have chosen their childlessness, others have not. While they differ in the intensity and kinds of emotions this provokes within them, it is never the defining aspect of their lives. Sign up for the fun stuff with our rundown of must-reads, pop culture and tips for the weekend, every Saturday morning Nelson is interested in models of family and of connection, in bodies and their betrayals and consolations, in the lives that women forge for themselves when faced by the unexpected. These stories are fierce and tender, often quirky and hilarious, and driven by great compassion. – Fiona Wright Fiction, Allen & Unwin, $34.99 Shokoofeh Azar migrated from Iran to Australia a decade ago as a refugee, having been arrested multiple times for her work as a journalist investigating human rights abuses. Her second novel is as vividly imaginative as her first, The Enlightenment of the Greengage Tree: it opens as a gigantic, mysterious tree suddenly sprouts up in the family home of teenager Shokoofeh, our narrator. No one outside the family seems to be able to see the tree but it brings with it mind-expanding freedoms – just as the Iranian revolution begins and reality grows violent. This novel is packed with ghosts, magical palaces, fortune tellers and folk stories; it could be described as magical realism, though Azar writes with a flair that sets her apart from the South American giants that have dominated the genre. – Sian Cain Fiction, UQP, $34.99 Thomas Vowles' debut is one of the most tense and disturbing novels I've read in a long time. Ash, new to Melbourne, has fallen in love with James, a man he met on Grindr. At a house party he witnesses a violent interaction involving James's new boyfriend, Raf. Ash is desperate to find out the truth about Raf – trouble is, no one believes him, and his unrequited feelings for James might be clouding his judgment and grip on reality. Vowles' background as a screenwriter is evident in the deliciously addictive – and stressful – way the story unfolds, with the narration becoming unreliable, and unhinged as Ash descends into madness. – Giselle Au-Nhien Nguyen Poetry, Giramondo, $27 What history forgets, families remember. In her debut collection, Chinese Fish, Grace Yee forged a bridge between the two and announced herself as a poet to watch. In Joss: A History, she continues that potent project – blending family testimony with archival fragments to trace her connection to colonial Bendigo. These are poems of grit and ritual, erasure and persistence, bureaucracy and grace, gold dust and Chinese cemeteries. Here, among the segregated gravestones, Yee captures the cruel, beautiful and ever-messy work of making a place in the world. 'What dreams weather beneath these mounds,' she writes, 'what fierce agitations churn the night.' – Beejay Silcox Science fiction, NewSouth Books, $34.99 Sign up to Saved for Later Catch up on the fun stuff with Guardian Australia's culture and lifestyle rundown of pop culture, trends and tips after newsletter promotion This is a really charming and fun reworking of the Dracula story that reimagines the Demeter – the ship that transports Dracula to London in Bram Stoker's novel – as a spaceship, 2,293 days into her voyage transporting humans from Earth to Alpha Centauri. The Demeter is a chatty spacecraft – in fact, she is our narrator, haphazardly trying to keep her passengers from dying at the hands of the ancient vampire who has made his way onboard. If you know the Dracula story, you'll find this enjoyable – there is a distinctly unhinged touch to the humour that I suspect Terry Pratchett fans will like. – SC Fiction, Simon & Schuster, $34.99 The pernicious pleasantries, the boardroom politics, the happy hours and the sad snack drawers: all the grinding machinations of office culture crescendo to a quivering peak in Sinéad Stubbins' very funny, very horrifying novel Stinkbug. An advertising agency gets restructured (likely story); everyone is sent on a work retreat (likely story); it might actually be a cult? (likelier than you think). Like a chunnering conversation with your worst colleague, Stinkbug is claustrophobic. Stubbins faithfully captures the cadences of corporate small talk and dials them up into a nightmarish cacophony of efficiency reports and pitch decks. You'll want to work from home for ever. – Michael Sun Fiction, Text Publishing, $34.99 Gail Jones is a prolific writer – this is her 11th novel – but The Name of the Sister is somewhat of a departure. Fans of her lucid, beautiful prose won't be disappointed, but this is a thriller, set in Sydney and Broken Hill. Familiar themes – identity, the nature of truth and memory – remind us of other books Jones has written (including One Another and Five Bells) but The Name of the Sister is dripping with suspense and intrigue. Driven by complex female characters, this novel is an intellectual page-turner. – Joseph Cummins Fiction, Ultimo, $34.99 When Eva Novak returns to Australia, mysteriously summoned by her long-estranged sister, she is shocked to find Elizabeta dead in her home. The pair haven't spoken for a decade, since the crash that killed Eva's young daughter; Elizabeta was behind the wheel and hadn't strapped Gracie in. Broken by grief and fury, Eva has two weeks to sort through the estate of the woman who killed her daughter – a task she sets to with a detached purposefulness that becomes increasingly devastating under Peričić's taut prose. But as she sifts through the house for all the documents she needs, Eva uncovers a far more complicated picture of what really happened that day – and how trauma can twist memories and recast entire lives. – Steph Harmon Nonfiction, Murdoch Books, $34.99 Nathan Dunne, an Australian journalist, was living in London when he decided to go night swimming in Hampstead Heath. In the cold water he experienced what is known as depersonalisation: a severe dissociative illness that left him unsure about who he was and what was real; a terrifying and debilitating state of having no sense of self: 'In a single moment, a split second, I had been locked away, condemned to wander in a body that was not my own.' This fascinating account charts his recovery, his research into a little-understood condition and his discovery of a whole community of people who have experienced it. – SC Fiction, Hachette Australia, $32.99 Historical novels set among the mid-century upper crust aren't that unusual but choosing an Australian prime minister's wife as a heroine certainly is. Though the novel opens with Harold Holt's disappearance, the 'year' in the title isn't quite accurate: instead Zara reflects on her memories of their entire relationship since 1927, in digestible, dialogue-heavy prose. Although you know from the outset that the story will take a tragic turn, the opening chapters of Kimberley Freeman's novel are fun and foamy. As Zara Holt was a fashion designer, there's a generous helping of very good frocks, too. – AG
Daily Mail
28-05-2025
- Business
- Daily Mail
EXCLUSIVE Jim's Mowing reveals shock move nobody saw coming: 'It's real'
The millionaire founder of Jim's Mowing has expanded his business empire and now offers professional life advice to customers. Jim's Life Coaching was registered in March 2024, joining a more than 50-strong cohort of service businesses under the Jim's Group banner. Even though the business has been around for longer than a year, many Aussies are still wrapping their heads around the idea. 'This almost seems like satire,' one Reddit user commented. 'It's real,' another insisted. 'What doesn't Jim do now?' a third asked. Founder Jim Penman told Daily Mail Australia the life coaching business was no joke. 'We get all sorts of strange things being suggested to us. Some people even put up logos. There was one for Jim's Brazil Waxing and all kinds of things,' he said. 'But no, this is serious.' The business was first pitched by head life coach Sue Thomas, a former student of self-help author Bob Proctor. A cancer survivor previously beleaguered by mental health complications, Ms Thomas took the lessons learnt in seven years under Mr Proctor to heart. 'I did one of his short programs and it transformed my life,' she said. 'I was blown away to see that this could be taught to people, because I had struggled a lot with anxiety, depression and had cancer myself because of all the stress that was living within my mind.' 'And when I realised I could share it and teach it and help transform people's lives, I started doing it straight away.' The idea to take her life coaching services to Jim's Group came several years later, when she took on a Jim's Building franchisee as a client. 'When I saw the amount of people in Jim's Group, wow, they've got all these people in there I know need help, because the majority of people do. 'So I thought, "Wow. How could I get in there?"' A trained life coach and leader of a fortnightly Crossroads Baptist Church 'life group' himself, Mr Penman saw the vision - but not exactly the way Ms Thomas had pitched it. 'She had this system that was set up to be based on an American product, but it was fantastically expensive,' Mr Penman said. 'That was the biggest issue. The people doing it just can't find enough clients because the costs are too high, because there's huge amounts of money going back to this US corporation. 'So when she brought it to me, I said, 'Okay, what we need to do is for you to set up the system, but allow it to be done so that, you know, basically we own the IP so we can actually provide it cost-effectively'.' 'That's kind of where it came from. I know the idea. I love it. I know it works. It's very effective, but it just needs to be done in a cost effective manner.' Encouraged, Ms Thomas spent months creating a franchise model for a homegrown life coaching industry - one with Ms Thomas as head coach, responsible for selecting and training all franchisees. By design, Jim's Life Coaching so far has just one franchisee based in Ballarat, Victoria and, while it took a while to get it off the ground, Mr Penman said it was an early moneymaker. 'It's going slower than most divisions. I think simply because one of the things we're concerned about is that it's not quite like something like dog washing or mowing where it's easy to get a flood of leads. 'You've really got to be cautious. That the life coaching industry suffers from a lack of oversight and a less than desirable reputation is an open secret. Asked what she made of the venture, Australian Association of Psychologists president Sahra O'Doherty was unreserved in her criticism. 'This seems to be yet another organisation capitalising on a broken mental health system, where accessing a qualified and affordable mental health professional is already fraught with confusion and challenges,' she told Daily Mail Australia. 'Life coaches have existed for quite some time, but we know that the title is unregulated - anyone can call themselves a "life coach" or a "dating coach" or any kind of "coach" with any qualification, or no qualification at all. 'This creates confusion for the consumer, and places both them and the provider at risk.' But Mr Penman insisted it was important to keep in mind the difference between life coaching and traditional therapy. 'I would not see life coaching as an alternative to professional counselling,' he said. 'Most of our clients have no specific psychological issues but simply want to live more successful lives.' All Jim's Group franchisees are offered no-cost access to licensed therapists. Life coaching, he said, services another need. Ms Thomas agreed, claiming therapy is more focused on addressing past traumas and experiences, whereas life coaching tends to be more future-oriented. 'We start off with, you know... what would you like your life to be like? What would you like to be happening? 'The most common answer is: "I don't have a goal. I wouldn't know what I want in my life." And they just tell me all the all the reasons why they can't have anything they want in their life. 'And that's where most people's minds are at, stuck in the past, and they're not thinking about their future.'
