Self-love
I’m writing a love letter to you, you imperfect, incredible thing. You’re uneven, and sometimes awkward, but there’s something about you that sings.
It’s your imperfections and your quirks and your cracks that make you human and infinitely beautiful. And so worthy of love. From you as well as everyone else. Not because of what you’ve achieved, or the way you look, but simply because you are you.
Coaching
I’m curled up in a cosy cafe this morning thinking, reading and drinking chai. I’m thinking primarily about two people I’ve been in touch with recently who were seeking coaching, except I had to gently explain that based on the information they had given me, it was my view that coaching was unlikely to be an appropriate intervention for them at this time. So I signposted them to their GPs and various resources, explaining why they might first need to seek some clinical or psychotherapeutic help to support them in coping with daily life.
If someone is in need of therapeutic intervention, it’s important for coaches to recognise this and be clear about their ethical remit. Once someone is receiving the right therapeutic support, however, coaching can be a useful adjunct to support them in reaching specific goals in the present (focusing on achieving potential and improving performance, rather than the more coping-oriented nature of therapy).
I’m finding this book interesting (Lost Connections: Why You’re Depressed and How to Find Hope, by Johann Hari). The blurb on the back talks about a ‘radical new way of thinking’ about depression and anxiety, but I’m not so sure – it strikes me as common sense to uncover and address the underlying causes, not simply seek to treat the symptoms. It’s why, in my coaching work, we focus precisely on some of the ‘prescriptions’ Hari writes about: meaningful work, meaningful values, and reconnecting to others and the natural world.
Perhaps, though, it’s been my own journey through and out the other end of depression that has taught me these things. So I wholeheartedly recommend this book to you, even though I am only on page 46.
– Written by Natalie Snodgrass Tan, Quiet Space Ltd
Coaching
Last week, I got some totally unexpected, utterly lovely feedback from two of my colleagues: that I had something about me that made people happy to see me coming and that I was one of their favourite people at work. It was so apropos of nothing that I asked them suspiciously what they wanted. Ha!
They also told me that I was really good at persuading people to do things they didn’t want to do. We had a good laugh about that – I don’t think I’ve ever thought about myself in that way before.
Reflecting on the encounter, it occurred to me that the Johari Window might be quite useful in illustrating these different awareness spaces and perspectives.
The Open space is the part of ourselves accessible both to us and to others. Our Blind space contains the things that others see but we are unaware of, at least consciously. We keep certain aspects Hidden from others. And finally, there are, as Rumsfeld opined, the unknown unknowns – the Unconscious parts of us that neither ourselves nor others may realise are there.
There are, I think, some interesting discussions to be had around how it may benefit us to bring things across from the Hidden space to the Open arena. How much of a role does transparency and authenticity play in the trust that people are willing to place in us?
And on the other side of the window – our blind spot might contain some happy revelations, but also some unpalatable truths. How can, or should, we profitably use others’ honest opinions of us?
– Written by Natalie Snodgrass Tan, Quiet Space Ltd
Articles
I’ve been thinking about manipulation, which as it turns out children are remarkably good at. A couple of weeks ago we’d had an exhausting day (involving an all-day visit to Universal Studios in Singapore, including literally running through downpours), and I had no energy or patience left when one of the kids was reading in his high bunk well past bedtime, having ignored my clear instruction to go to sleep. I asked that he stop – “two more pages!” came the cry, which I agreed to before going to brush my teeth.
When I returned he was still reading, so I told him in no uncertain terms to hand me the book. He groaned and eventually extended it, but when I held out my hand, he deliberately withdrew it just out of my reach. And smiled.
I suspect you won’t be surprised that I rather saw red, although I regretted it as soon as I’d left the room, and promptly spent some time thinking about how easily he’d made me lose my temper.
Except he didn’t.
Come again?
In cognitive behavioural coaching, we explain that it’s not events that cause our emotions, but how we interpret those events – in other words, how we think about or what meaning we give to the events*. He hadn’t made me angry; I was angry because his behaviour had triggered something in me that demanded control of the situation, and compliance from him. What kinds of things had been going through my mind? Perhaps You’ll do as I say. Children should listen to their parents. How dare you cheek me in that way. I think there was, too, spillover from some work frustrations that I’ve been experiencing lately, most notably a feeling of being ineffectual and not being able to enact necessary change.
The link between thoughts, emotions and behaviours is the cognitive triangle, and it can lead to a pretty vicious cycle. If my thoughts are anger-inducing, and lead me to fury, then I’m very likely to do something that, if unchallenged, will reinforce those thoughts and emotions.
We can look at this triangle alongside another way of conceptualising the thoughts we think: the cognitive pyramid. In a situation of stress, the negative thoughts that may surface automatically are underpinned by other, deeper thoughts that we may not hold quite as consciously. These comprise our mental rules, assumptions and attitudes, and our underlying core beliefs about ourselves, others and the world, which are often formed as part of our cognitive ‘blueprint’ early in life. When we’re stressed and tired, negative core beliefs can be activated – and they can present themselves, in that moment, as absolute truths.
The learning that we can take from this extends well beyond parenting; it’s a valuable lesson in all relationships, including the ones we cultivate at work. It’s also highly relevant in how we can choose to respond to situations.
We’ve all had that ‘difficult’ (choose your preferred adjective) colleague, boss or senior manager, where encounters have become something to endure. How much of them can you change? You might have various degrees of agency in the form of power, influence, negotiation or persuasion, all of which certainly help in getting people to behave in the ways you’d like them to, but fundamentally the answer to that question is, not a lot. If you lead in any capacity, do you lead by force and exertion of control (how’s that going in terms of getting the best out of your people)? Or have you learnt to take a step back and empower those who report to you by giving them the space and resource to fulfil their commitment and potential?
And as for situations? Well, let’s take an example beloved of British rail travellers everywhere – delays and replacement rail services. You’re late for your appointment, and it’s out of your control. Or maybe you’d like to put yourself into the shoes of a man I encountered over the weekend at my local gym, whose frustration had got the better of him over lack of parking and who was now swearing loudly at the staff about being a paying customer.
How would you like to respond, knowing that you can choose at any point to change your experience of this moment? As we become aware of our default reactions to situations of stress, we also have the ability to discard them in favour of new ways of responding when we find ourselves at the edge. Real change comes when we control the only things we have true control over – our own behaviours.
– Written by Natalie Snodgrass Tan, Quiet Space Ltd
*I last wrote about CBC in July last year – how time flies! If you’re interested you can check out that article here: https://quietspacecoaching.co.uk/2018/07/16/taking-psychological-responsibility/
Coaching
Then when?
(Currently pulling myself out of my bank holiday torpor to try and get some things done, except lying here with some escapist reading is a tad too pleasurable, particularly as my body is wrecked from deadlifts and climbing this morning.)
Coaching
“We shall not cease from exploration
And the end of all our exploring
Will be to arrive where we started
And know the place for the first time.”
– Little Gidding, T.S. Eliot
I grew up in Singapore but have now spent more than half my life in the UK. When I go back to see my family, the place is simultaneously familiar and strange. I’ve learnt that the best way to appreciate things is to look at them not just as a visitor but like a child, valuing the wonder of it all.
This world is waiting for you to see it from ever-new perspectives and to keep discovering it, as if for the first time.
Journey
You will gain strength from the things that have broken you, and be filled with light from the things that have burned you.
“Ring the bells that still can ring
Forget your perfect offering
There is a crack in everything
That’s how the light gets in”
– Leonard Cohen, Anthem
Inspiration
Whatever your faith, Easter brings a universal message: that no matter how dark the day, there is always hope. For all your Good Fridays, may there be an Easter Sunday. Wishing you peace and joy.
Latest posts
Learning to view a situation from different perspectives can be a game changer. What we see isn’t usually the whole picture – shifting position helps us make sense of much more of the world and our relationships.
Identity
We all have alter egos of a fashion – a community of selves, multicoloured, multifaceted, sometimes complicated. The shadow does split. We flex and adapt to different circumstances that require a slightly different us each time.