I see you there, sitting with a mess that’s heavier than you want it to be. Maybe your inbox is overflowing, maybe you’re chasing people who don’t reply, maybe you’re starting your work—the work you love—feeling tired before you even begin. I know how that feels, how it pulls at you, how it dims the radiance you want to bring to your days. I’m Rebecca, and I’m here not just to throw quick fixes at you but to sit with you, listen to where it’s hard, and help you find a way through that feels right, that fits who you are.
Today, I want to walk you through something—a story I’ve crafted, a scenario that’s not one real person but a mirror of the real struggles I’ve seen, the chaos I’ve helped soulpreneurs untangle from Germany to wherever you are right now. Let’s call him Jonas, a mindfulness coach with a heart full of care but an onboarding process that was drowning him. His story isn’t true in the literal sense, but it’s true in the ways that matter—true to the weight, the stuckness, the dreams I’ve heard from people just like you. I’ll show you what we did, step by step, and how you can take these pieces, hold them up to your own mess, and start building something calmer. No tricks, no big rules—just us, figuring it out together.
The Chaos Jonas Lived In
Picture this: Jonas wakes up, checks his email, and there’s a message—someone wants a coaching session. He’s excited because helping people find peace is why he’s here, but then it starts. He writes back, listing time slots, waiting for them to pick one. Hours pass, maybe a day, and they reply—or don’t, and he nudges them again. They choose, he sends a payment link, and then he waits again, checking PayPal, wondering if it’s gone through. It’s late sometimes, and he’s rushing to send a welcome note, a questionnaire he needs to feel ready, and half the time, they don’t send it back. He’s emailing again, “Hey, did you get this?” and the call’s tomorrow, and he’s still not sure what they need.
The worst day? A client books last-minute, payment lags, emails vanish into spam, and Jonas stumbles into the call flustered, small, not the coach he wants to be. I listened to him spill all this—the frustration, the time lost, the energy drained—and I felt it with him. I’ve been there with people, seen how heavy it gets when your process doesn’t hold you up. But then he told me his best day—someone booked fast, paid quick, and sent everything back, and the call was magic. And his dream? A system where it all just flows, where he’s free to coach, not chase. That’s where we started—his pain, his hope, and what could be.
Step 1: Automate the Basics—Lift the Load
The first thing I saw with Jonas was the back-and-forth, the manual bits that ate his time. He was stuck sending emails about slots, waiting for replies, doing it all by hand. I know how that feels—every minute you spend there is a minute you’re not creating, not resting, not being who you want to be. So we looked at what could lift that load, something simple, something he could start with right now.
For Jonas, it was scheduling. Clients reached out, and he’d type out times, hoping they’d match, deal with time zones if they’re far away. We took that away. I suggested a tool—Calendly, the free version—where they book straight from his website. No emails, no “Are you free then?”—they see his calendar, pick a slot, and it’s done. It even sorts out time zones, so if you’re in New York and he’s in Berlin, there’s no mess, no math, just calm. He loved it, said, “I waste so much time typing those emails,” and I saw his shoulders drop, just a little, imagining that gone.
You can do this, too. Look at your process—where are you stuck doing the same thing over and over? Is it scheduling? Sending forms? Chasing details? Find one spot where you’re tired, where a tool—free, easy, no big learning curve—can take it off your hands. Maybe it’s Calendly for calls, maybe a form for questions, maybe a link for payments. Start small, but start. You don’t need everything fixed today—just one piece lighter, and you’ll feel it. Jonas did.
Step 2: Set a Buffer—Give Yourself Space
The next thing I noticed was how rushed Jonas felt. Payments coming in late, questionnaires missing, calls starting with him scrambling—it was chaos because there was no room to breathe. I’ve seen this so many times—people want to help, want to say yes, and they let everything pile up until it’s too much. I asked him, “What if we gave you space?” and his eyes lit up, like he hadn’t thought he was allowed.
We set a buffer—48 hours, no bookings closer than that. It’s not just a rule; it’s a gift to yourself. For Jonas, it meant payment had to be in 24 hours before—funds or proof, no last-minute checks. The questionnaire? Sent when they book, due before the call, with time for him to read it, prep, feel ready. No more rushing, no more “Did they pay?” at the last second. He said, “I’d feel in control,” and I knew we’d hit something big. His worst day—that nightmare call—wouldn’t happen because the buffer stops it cold.
Think about your own days. Where do you feel squeezed? Is it waiting for someone to pay, to reply, to show up? Give yourself a buffer—24 hours, 48, whatever feels safe. Tell them upfront: “Book at least two days ahead, pay by this time, get this to me.” It’s not mean—it’s kind, to you and them. They know what to do, you know what’s coming, and you both show up better. Jonas stopped scrambling, and you can too.
Step 3: Draw Boundaries—Guard Your Energy
The last piece was the hardest for Jonas, and maybe for you too. He was chasing—payments, replies, questionnaires—spending energy on people who didn’t step up. I felt that with him, how it drained him, how it dimmed the light he wanted to share. I asked, “What if you didn’t chase?” and he paused, like it was a new idea. Boundaries aren’t just rules—they’re about what you let in, what you keep out, and what keeps you whole.
For Jonas, we set them clear. Payment? Due 24 hours before, or the call’s off—no exceptions. Chasing? One nudge— “Hey, I need this”—and that’s it. If they don’t reply, they’re not his people, and he’s okay with that. Late or no-shows? A ping at 5 minutes, a note at 10, closed at 15—no refunds unless it’s a storm or a crash, then one free reschedule. It’s firm, fair, rooted in respect—his time, their time, mutual care. He said, “I hate chasing; it tires me,” and I told him, “Then don’t. You’re allowed.”
This is big for you too. Where are you giving too much? Chasing leads who flake, waiting for latecomers, bending when you’re tired? Draw a line—soft but strong. Maybe it’s “Pay 48 hours ahead,” maybe “One reminder, then I move on,” maybe “15 minutes late, we’re done.” Tie it to what matters to you—respect, peace, energy—and hold it. You’re not here to beg; you’re here to help people who want it. Jonas felt lighter, and I want that for you.
What It All Means For Your Onboarding
Jonas isn’t real, but his mess is—I’ve seen it, felt it, fixed it with people all over. After we talked, he’d set up that Calendly link, add his payment note, tuck in his questions, set his buffer, and draw his lines. He’d stop rushing, stop chasing, and start coaching with calm. It’s not his full dream—automation bliss with no manual steps—but it’s close, and it’s enough for now. He’s got space to grow, to breathe, to be the coach he loves being.
I’m here because this matters to me—you matter to me. I’ve sat with soulpreneurs who feel stuck, who want radiance but can’t find it under the mess, and I’ve helped them see it again. This scenario, these steps, they’re what I do—taking your chaos, listening to every bit, making something together that fits. You don’t have to do it all today. Pick one—automate something small, set a buffer, draw a line—and feel how it shifts.
If you’re tired, I see that. If you’re ready, I’m here. This is what I do for people like you—wherever you are, whatever your mess. Want to talk about it? No worries, no rush—just us, figuring it out. Reach out, tell me what’s heavy, and we’ll lift it together.