A client’s perspective on the challenge of coaching
A quick coffee shop health warning before you read on…
‘It’s difficult to not speak from a personal place, as part of a blog like this, so it feels right to issue a warning. These words include deprecation and writing to my sense of self. Between us, I’m working on this, and it’s probably better that I commit it all to 300 – 400 words here, than inflict it upon someone taking a contactless payment for four pints of milk, or holding the door open for me at Costa. You just wanted a coconut latte, but here’s my
identity crisis. Gotcha!
And the problem that I face lies in how I’ve opened this blog up. It’s my sense of right and
wrong, do’s and don’ts, who I should and shouldn’t be and what I must and must not do. It probably wasn’t until I started coaching that I realised that I’d been living in an overbearing dichotomy of right and wrong, leaping from what I perceived to be one or the other and never resting on the lava in the middle.
So where did this all come from?
Back in the 80’s and 90’s, I was a confused kid with a lot going on at times, and having a
framework which operated between a set of binaries was really helpful. It took a lot of the
guesswork out – there was always two choices. Box A or Box B.
I swore by it through school, when I wanted good grades; in my early career, when I wanted
to get ahead; but also, before all that, when I wanted to be a good and deserving son. Having a solid rationale for everything always felt like it would protect me, when I was afraid
of being seen as different, hard to justify and accept.
But after nearly 40 years, my sense of right and wrong hadn’t become more realistic or pragmatic. It hadn’t matured with me.
TC
It was, for the most part, a compounded version of something from my childhood, where
heroes and villains existed as polar opposites. It was morality without a grey scale most
times, and it became an increasingly dangerous thing in all aspects of my life.
I used to pride myself in my sense of right and wrong, and I still do. I work in an industry
which helps guide different bodies on staying in favour and avoiding poor perceptions.
Being able to identify pitfalls and opportunities to exceed expectations is what I do, and
want to continue doing.
But here’s the crux of this. . .
However, my very inherent sense of what should and shouldn’t happen at any one time was
crippling. If something didn’t go the ‘right’ way at my hands, I’d be wrought – I’d close my
laptop at the end of the day, chew it over throughout Stranger Things and then dream about it through the night.
And if I couldn’t understand why a senior figure would change tack, and without explanation, I’d struggle with that too. In some roles, I’d be encouraged to challenge decisions, but this didn’t always work in other jobs. Sometimes things just needed to be turned around as quickly as possible – an established hierarchy, who’s decision should be
trusted, was part of that efficiency. However, I couldn’t let things go – anything that didn’t
fit my logic became a great injustice. Rather than moving on, I’d be determined to have an Erin Brockovich moment and see balance restored. Needless to say, believing I was then
outspoken and dissident kept me feeling as though I was on the ‘wrong’ side of the fence in
perpetuity.
My sense of right and wrong was established early on, in my mind, as to how I could be
accepted and how I could excel. This meant that even though I’d sweat the small stuff, and
find feeling unheard to be a very dark and unwelcome thing, I’d continue to live this way.
Professionally it felt like I was grasping the nettle during the work day and licking the
wounds all night.
So, where does this lead me. . .
So, something had to give. Through coaching with Mark, I’ve been working a lot on three
key areas which have really, really improved things for me.
- Faith in myself, my sense of confidence and my intuition – rather than giving my
perspective over to a sense of right and wrong that existed in ideals or in fiction, I
have worked on trusting myself and not the frameworks of others. - Authenticity – appreciating that anything that feels true to me and comes from an
earnest place, with good intent, is always the best thing. Usually this is a faultless
algorithm for any kind of decision. - Some things are out of my control, and that’s ok – I’m a retired crusader, or at least
I’m working on it. I continue to speak out where I feel I need to, and sometimes from
a place of emotion (because that’s who I am), but I don’t need to fight every fight. I
need to hold on to that energy and drive it into my relationships, different routes to
wellbeing, fitness and so many other wonderful things.
And the surprising thing is, after decades of believing in meritocracy, I feel that I’m
becoming a better worker. I feel like I can continue to grow and aspire at work, by better
prioritising what I need for myself, and what my family need of me, rather than the goals I
set myself to become the perfect employee, without fault.
I’m not sure I would ever have got to this place without coaching. It remains one of the best things I’ve ever done for myself . . . ever.’ TC
My reflections as coach…
I am minded to think about a phrase that I saw used in a documentary about 4 women who were the first team to row from USA to Australia in which they describe the gargantuan team effort that such a challenge was, the need for intricate planning and the support of several teams including a mindset coach, but that ultimately the challenge was very different for each of them, and the motivation to change also…
‘Everyone has their own Pacific to cross’
The Coxless Four
For TC and for so many taking the coaching journey it is both challenging and very different for each person or business, but the riches from finding our inner strengths are unsurpassable. I am grateful to my client for having the courage to be coached for having the bravery to face his challenges and for having the strength to write this blog. I hope that you have enjoyed reading it and I wish you well on your journey of self-discovery and strength finding!
. . . Mark
