Turn left?

IMG_8464Turn left? Turn right? Whovians know what happened when Donna turned right instead of left: an alternate reality in which she never met the Doctor, directly leading to his death and eventually a descent into world dystopia.

I think a lot of us feel that way about significant decisions. Right? Left? Pros and cons. What ifs. How do I know what the right decision is? What if I make the wrong decision and live to regret this? Cold feet at the last minute. Second-guessing yourself.

I believe the truth is that we can never know the full implications of any decisions we make. We need to make decisions based on the best knowledge that we have at any given time, and then commit and follow through.

If you’re gripped by decision paralysis, remember this: much of the time there is no right or wrong decision. Whatever choice you make will have its own outcomes – the true impact of a decision is not seen in the moments after making it, but depends on you making that choice the right one for you. Don’t look back to fret about alternate realities that may never have happened even if you had made a different decision.

If you’re having problems making big life and career decisions, coaching can help. Drop me an email or message and let’s get this show on the road.

– Written by Natalie Snodgrass Tan, Quiet Space Ltd

Thoughts become things – cognitive behavioural coaching and taking psychological responsibility

Men are disturbed not by things, but by the view which they take of themLast week I wrote about learning more about cognitive behavioural psychology as part of my ongoing professional development – often encountered in the form of cognitive behavioural therapy (CBT), but also increasingly employed in the coaching domain. This post also links to my previous post on freedom where I wrote about making active choices.

I think the quote above, from the Stoic philosopher Epictetus, sums up the core of CBT very pithily. The origins of modern psychotherapy can legitimately be traced to classical philosophical schools like Stoicism, which is, if you will, the original cognitive therapy (Albert Ellis, who founded the first form of CBT, Rational Emotive Behaviour Therapy (REBT), has acknowledged the lineage from Stoic philosophy).

There is a great deal of synergy between the cognitive behavioural approach and coaching, particularly from a constructivist perspective. People can fall into the trap of being a passive participant in their own lives, and it’s very easy to tip over into becoming a victim of your circumstances. I often talk to clients about becoming actively involved in constructing their own realities (note: which is not the same as ignoring objective facts!) rather than playing a part in a story someone else has written for them. Learning and growing occurs when you are actively involved in a process of making meaning in your life, understanding the thoughts and beliefs that you hold and then taking conscious control of them.

The concept of mental control, heavily distilled, might look somewhat like this.



In a nutshell, there are things we can control, things we can influence, and things we can’t really do anything about. Although we might have legitimate concerns about what other people do and what’s happening in the world, very often we have little to no control over these things. What we do have control over are what we choose to think and feel, and how we choose to behave. And the kinds of thoughts and beliefs and feelings that we hold, and our subsequent behaviour, can make our realities happy or miserable. This is at the core of the cognitive behavioural approach. CBT and its coaching counterpart, CBC, teach that it is the meaning that we attach to events that causes our emotional reactions, not the events themselves, and that we can learn to choose different behaviours through retraining our thoughts and beliefs.

A key word here is ‘choice’. Everything that we do is a choice. Sometimes we may think that we have no choice but to respond or react in a certain manner – we say things like “she made me angry”, “I was forced into a corner”, “he is the reason I am in this predicament”. The trouble with this is that it opens up the door to everyone else being the cause of your problems, and us discounting or forgetting the part we have played in any given situation (often also the part that we continue to play, if we’ve fallen into the role of victim).

What’s the alternative? Accepting responsibility for our own thoughts, feelings and behaviours. Viktor E. Frankl said that “…everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms – to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.” I very much like this quote because I think taking psychological responsibility – responsibility for our thoughts and feelings – is fundamental to our psychological wellbeing. This is a world away from a damaging  blame game – it moves us right across into the empowerment of realising that you do not have to rely on changing others, or your situation, before you can feel better or act differently.

Your thoughts don’t have to become your reality. They’re opinions, not facts. (Opinions welcome in comments below!)

– Written by Natalie Snodgrass Tan, Quiet Space Ltd


I’m not sure if today’s blog post is going to hang together coherently. There are a few themes running through my head that all connect, but I’m not quite convinced I’ve connected them yet. See what you think.

Anyway. A couple of weeks ago, while attending Mass in Singapore, I listened to a homily about freedom. The message was that freedom shouldn’t be equated with liberation.

Dictionaries commonly define freedom first and foremost as “the power or right to act, speak or think as one wants”. Liberation, meanwhile, is commonly “freedom from limits on thought or behaviour”. So, a bit of a circular reference, but the point was that freedom shouldn’t be about self-gain – what I want, when I want – but should instead be about exercising free will in the service of others, with conscience and responsibility.

Now, there was obviously a religious slant to this, but whether you are of any other faith or none, I thought there was something to reflect on and find relevance in. I last wrote about freedom in the context of wandering, in the context of a book I’ve been reading called “A Little Nostalgia for Freedom” (Steve Bonham). And when I think about wandering, I think about wandering with a purpose. Not to get somewhere, because that is somewhat paradoxical, but as part of inhabiting the world in a certain way; as part of an active choice to remain in a mode of inquiry.

Which brings me to the choices we make. I’ve argued before that everything we do is an act of choice – even when it might seem that we haven’t got a say in a matter, we remain in control of how we react and respond to our circumstances. Henley writes in Invictus: “It matters not how strait the gate/How charged with punishments the scroll/I am the master of my fate/I am the captain of my soul.” The truth is the same for the freedoms we exercise. I think that rights necessarily come with responsibilities and limits, because to argue otherwise leads to anarchy. So in freedom we have to take responsibility for the ways in which we choose to think and act.

You could look at this in two ways – responsibility to self, and responsibility to others. First, there is little point in blaming others for the decisions we make. To do so is to play victim and that’s a slippery slope that comes to no good end. Beyond this, I like to think that there will always be a moral core of decency in people that chooses to look for the best in others and tries often to act for the higher good rather than the selfish gain.

My own take-home message: In a world where you could choose to be lots of things? Choose to be kind.

– Written by Natalie Snodgrass Tan, Quiet Space Ltd

I choose everything


What do you think of when you hear the word ‘acceptance’? If we can’t undo or change something, we need to learn how to accept it, rather than living in the ‘what-if’ and the ‘if-only’; all this serves to do is freeze and frustrate us and stop us from taking positive and meaningful action. Acceptance doesn’t mean resignation, and it doesn’t signify giving up. It means understanding that this life has a rhythm, a heartbeat; space for both the beautiful and ugly, both pain and joy. I like the way St. Therese of Lisieux puts it: “I choose everything.”

God grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change, the courage to change the things I can, and the wisdom to know the difference.

I choose this life. I choose everything.

– Written by Natalie Snodgrass Tan, Quiet Space Ltd

10 choices of successful people

10 choices of successful people
Here’s the first of what will be a mini-blog series of bite-sized things to ponder.

Today’s prompt is:

None of these things requires talent. Want success? Go get it. You’ve already got it inside you.

– Written by Natalie Snodgrass Tan, Quiet Space Ltd