photo credit: KidMoxie

I had the pleasure of working with Shawn Callahan of Anecdote to produce an exciting new white paper, “Three Journeys—A Narrative Approach to Successful Organizational Change” that links coaching, stories, and organizational change. The approach is based on the story of Lewis & Clark who forged a trail that would lead to the formation of what we now know as the United States. I included a case study involving a large client project to illustrate the approach in action in supporting this client to build a coaching culture and internal coaching capabilities.

We also use lessons learned from expedition itself, based on Stephen Ambrose’s book Undaunted Courage, to offer important lessons for today’s change leaders. For example, while on the first of the three journeys, leaders should be aware of the fact that:

1. The story for change must be told, at least initially, in the language of those most affected by it, if leaders want their engagement in the change.
2. Preparation in complex environments requires testing assumptions and balancing the needs for adaptation and execution.
3. It is dangerous to take an old paradigm and old ways of living into a new land.

Have a look at the white paper for yourself and let me know what you think.

On a recent flight back to the U.S. from Sydney, I took the occasion to watch a documentary on “The Apology”. On February 13, 2008, the prime minister (Kevin Rudd) and other leaders from the Australian government offered a written and oral apology to the indigenous populations of that land. While the issues involved are rife with complexities, I was moved by the simple, public statement of “We’re Sorry.” It seemed like an important step for that country in moving forward as a true multicultural society. It reminded me how far we have to go here in the U.S. Perhaps a victory by Obama in the upcoming elections will signal a change here.

As I reflected on the movie, I thought about the nature and power of stories to affect change. Upon returning home, I happened to glance at an alter of sacred objects in my office—upon which sat a jar of lavender oil from France. It was a gift from a colleague who attended a workshop on narrative coaching I did for an international coaching conference in Melbourne last year. Feeling a bit fatigued in the midst of a long work trip in Australia, she offered me this precious gift as a source of renewal. I was moved by the gesture, this gift of comfort and grace.

Sometimes, we are called to begin a new Story of great significance. Mostly, however, we are asked to mindfully contribute in small ways to the smaller stories we encounter in each moment. In giving me the small bottle of lavender I gained solace that another person cared enough to part with this special gift and from the deeply relaxing fragrance of the lavender itself. So much of narrative coaching is about showing up fully to another person and opening up the possibilities of a new story.

Take a chance today—plant a seed for a new Story through an act of forgiveness, compassion, or insight.

I had the good fortune recently of speaking at the inaugural meeting for a new ICF Chapter in Hamilton, an hour’s drive south of Auckland. Present in the group photo from left to right are Jan Canton, Janet Young, yours truly, Sally Webb, and Dorothy Oliver—the team who organized the first International Coach Week celebration for the Waikato/Bay of Plenty Region. Missing from the photo is Corene Walker, Director of Events, ICFA. It was a wonderful opportunity to help them kick off their chapter with this special event for coaches, potential coaches and organizational leaders who use coaching. We spent 90 minutes talking about “What Are Your Clients Trying to Tell You? . . . And How to Listen to their Stories to Find Out!” The drive down together was filled with delightful humor, an engaging conversation about the state of coaching, and confirmation that there are indeed sheep in New Zealand!

While in the area, I got a tour of the beautiful “whop whops” (rainforest/mountain range) by Leslie Hamilton, Chair of the marvelous 2007 ICFA Conference in Melbourne. On the same trip I spent an evening speaking on the same topic for the inaugural meeting of the ICFA sub-chapter in the delightful city of Hobart, Tasmania and for Coach Week in Perth. I always enjoy introducing people to a new approach to coaching that is driven by a mindful and compassionate attention to the narrative material from clients’ stories. I finished off this part of the trip with a two-day workshop on narrative coaching with 16 people. What I love about working Down Under is the genuine openness to learning. More workshops are being scheduled as I wrote this.

Leave me a note on the blog if you’d like to talk about hosting a workshop in your area.

photo credit: richardmasoner
Albert Einstein once noted that, “problems cannot be solved by the same level of thinking that created them.” The same is true in working with the stories people tell us in coaching conversations. People narrate their experience based on their cognitive patterns, personal dispositions, contextual demands and the vocabulary of their social discourse. As a result, they tend to tell their stories along similar lines over time.

One of the lessons we can we take from recent research in the neurosciences is that rapport in coaching is built through the resonance between two people, a matching in which they connect using the same sides of their brain. In my work, I make the corollary point that we then foster change by connecting with the client across the channels once rapport is established, e.g. left brain modality to right brain modality. For example, I might invite a shift from their abstract description of the situation by asking them what they are experiencing in the moment.

When you feel stuck in a coaching conversation, it usually means that the client is trying to solve the “problem” at a level that is familiar to them—but is often the very construction/habit that created the issue in the first place. If this happens for you, I would suggest one of two options to help your client get unstuck: (1) rise up a level to help them get a broader perspective and see what they cannot see at their current level of narration or (2) drop down a level to help them get more of the details and enrich and embody their understanding.

Start within the frame of your clients’ stories to expand the storytelling space between you—and then invite them to move to a different level if it would free them up to gain a new perspective on themselves and/or their situation.

My wife recently returned from a fascinating workshop with Brad Keeney, psychologist and expert on traditional healing. Take a look at this clip from a Canadian documentary as it shows Brad’s work with what he calls “shaking medicine”. There seems to me to be a growing confluence of what we are learning from the neurosciences and what many have known for centuries about the true nature of healing. If this is so, what does this mean for coaching?

Are there ways in which coaching, when its based in assumptions about linearity, causality, and rationality, misses out on some of the processes by which people actually develop? In my work with people’s stories in coaching and in teaching coaching skills, I increasingly see the ways in which development is nonlinear, noncausal, and nonrational. As I have deepened my explicit and tacit knowledge of the way stories play out in coaching, I find myself being more compassionate and courageous in working with a person’s narrative material.

In doing so, I marvel at the mystery of human nature and growth based in millennia of genetic programming and embeddedness in natural systems. As a result, I wonder sometimes if those of us (at least in the West) over-emphasize the cognitive and linguistic domains in working with our clients. It is as if we carry a belief that higher order brain functions will be able to triumph over ancient patterns if only we work hard enough. While we certainly have sufficient anecdotal experience of this in our own lives, I wonder sometimes what we are missing as coaches by not working with these ancient patterns—instead of against them. Our stories are not just in our head.

It is as if coaches become split between the face we wear in the daytime to fit into an evidence-based, market-driven world and the face we wear in nighttime to engage with other worlds we believe in our heart may actually be closer to the truth of what works. As I’ve written about in recent articles, it is the path of the craftsperson, the artisan who diligently develops the science and skills of the practice while all the while dancing with his/her muse and the mysteries of the art.

Where are you stretching yourself today in terms of how you think about and practice your craft?

photo credit: indigoprime
Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic. I came across these words from the late Arthur C. Clarke, renowned science fiction writer, the other day and reflected on their meaning for coaching. They seemed particularly interesting given his choice to write about the future from Sri Lanka, a context where ancient battles for power are playing out in civil war. One of sources of power in using a narrative approach to coaching is that it helps individuals and groups reckon with the historical and cultural forces that shape their stories while at the same time envisioning new ones that can be told.

As I wrote about in a recent journal article, I believe a narrative approach is useful in developing ourselves as artisans who blend science and practice to meet our clients’ needs through the questions we form, the evidence we choose, and the reflexive evaluation of our performance. As more coaches develop mastery of the technologies of coaching, we may indeed move closer to the realms of magic. As I’ve also written, the language of “craftspeople” and “guilds” seems useful here. This echoes a comment from psychologist/anthropologist Brad Keeney (1990) who urged his fellow practitioners to free themselves from the tight embrace of medicalism and scientism in order to connect to the creative wellsprings of the arts.

One of the questions I will pose in moderating an upcoming panel on research at the 2008 ICF Conference is, “What can we learn at the intersection of art and science that provides better evidence to guide our practice?”

Where have you found the “magic” in working with your clients?

photo credit: Shereen M
It has been awhile since I posted. I’ve been quite engaged on two other fronts: One is an intense and wonderful coaching project in Australia.

The other arose just before I left when I followed a gut feeling (reinforced in my dreams) that something was not quite right in my body. I discovered through an ultrasound that I have a large nodule on my thyroid. The biopsies were inconclusive and so I will have surgery sooner rather than later to take part of it out – and find out for sure.

They say the chance it is cancerous is about 5%. However, I soon discovered that while the statistical difference between the 0% chance I had before and the 5% I have now is not all that significant, the emotional difference was huge. I’ve since moved to a better space where I’ve come to appreciate this wake-up call.

I found that in this time of waiting—and the not knowing that comes with it—it was hard to know what story tell about my situation. I was not well but I was not sick. In some people I evoked a story of great concern while others resorted to hurried optimism. I came to realize in some important new ways both the power of the choices we make about how we narrate our lived experience and the power of the stories that are told about us.

I am choosing to be grateful for what IS — an opportunity to recalibrate some elements in my life. Oddly, this re-balancing process mirrors a dilemma that surfaced in my Hogan assessment where I scored very high on ambition and fairly low on power. No wonder my thyroid is out of balance!

The fact that the problem is there has important symbolic, energetic and practical implications in terms of how I express myself and live my life. What a gift! Regardless of the biopsy outcome, I am using this time to be more courageous and clear about the story I tell through my life and work.

What story is your body telling you? What story are you telling through your body?

photo credit: liz_com1981
I’m often asked, “This is great stuff…but how will it help me grow my business?” While there is not a straight line between A and B as some might wish, I observe that people who develop a narrative approach to their practice seem to become more compelling to clients. What narrative coaching brings, in part, is a way of being with clients that is quite distinctive. As such, I see this approach helping your business in at least three ways:

1. Increased signal to noise ratio: Working at the narrative level gives clients the opportunity to step outside the relentless pace of modern work life in order to experience time and space in new ways. Clients appreciate the chance to both slow down and get to the heart of the matter more quickly. Narratively-trained coaches bring a certain calm and presence to their work that many clients find invaluable.
2. Increased transfer from sessions: As my colleague Amiel Handelsman attests, the true value of coaching is in what clients do after they leave their conversation with us. Clients pay us because they are able to see, think, feel and act differently as a result of coaching. A narrative approach is powerful here because the language and learning are based in the clients’ own stories. Rather than having to take on the coach’s frame, clients have ready-made anchors for their ongoing learning and new behaviors. I have found this grounded approach to be quite appealing to clients.
3. Increased connection to a bigger Story: I increasingly see a hunger in my clients to connect their life and their work to something bigger than themselves. They want connections to people who know their stories—and therefore share a common referent point. It shows up in my organizational clients who want better alignment between individual coaching goals and organizational objectives. It shows up in my private clients who want to feel like their work matters. Being able to help make these connections through their stories is great for business.

What would you like to know about stories and your business? Post a question in the Comments box and I will gladly share my thoughts.

I close with a great quote I was reminded of again the other day in pondering the proverbial 37 days. It speaks well to the value of a narrative approach to coaching in helping clients see clearly the gaps between their vows and their life.
The life of every man is a diary in which he means to write one story, and writes another; and his humblest hour is when he compares the volume as it is with what he vowed to make it. James Barrie

photo credit: WTL photos
I learned this morning that Michael White has passed away. Known to many of us in the story community as a co-founder of narrative therapy, he was a pioneer who paved the way for many of us who do this work. He brought a deep critical and social consciousness to our understanding of stories; he liberated both stories and storytelling so practitioners could work in creative and powerful ways with clients. His death seems particularly poignant for me right now as I launch my new narrative coaching programs and think more deeply about where and how I most want to invest my life energy. Perhaps his death will inspire me to play a bigger game.

Michael’s work was an important bridge for me in connecting three domains of my narrative study and practice that had long been separate: Jungian psychology/spirituality, cognitive development and learning, and social justice. On a personal level, I felt inspired by his work to be more courageous and confident in bringing together these domains in my narrative coaching work. I experienced him as a deep thinker, a complicated writer, a consummate practitioner, and a gifted teacher. He has left a legacy that will live on in the thousands of professionals who have been shaped by his work and the many contributions of narrative therapy to our language, perspectives and practices. Thank you, Michael.

“The evolution of the lives and relationships of persons is akin to the process of reauthoring, the process of persons entering into stories with their experience and their imagination, of taking these stories over and making them their own.” (1992)

photo credit: woodleywonderworks
It all started with a simple question to Tom* , “How did you come to be a lawyer?”

He responded with several stories about Bruce*, a lawyer who had been a mentor for him and the other kids in his neighborhood. As a result of Bruce’s influence, Tom carried into adulthood a strong value for justice and fairness and eventually chose a career in law himself. As he and I moved from these stories to the present day, and stories of Tom’s work in coaching other lawyers and developing new modes of mediation, there emerged a moment when it seemed important for the two sets of stories to meet. I said to Tom, “I bet Bruce would be really proud of you right now.” In the profound pause that ensued, Tom was able to recognize for the first time a central narrative thread that ran through his life, share this recognition with someone else as a witness in the present, and connect Bruce’s gift with his current work and vision for the future.

I began a recent book chapter with this story because it illustrates so well a key practice in narrative coaching. It is the art of putting forth a key element from two different stories and inviting the client to see what is discovered when the two are held in the same space. Up until the moment of meeting with Tom, both stories had existed in parallel with one another and been told without reference to the other. Yet, when they were brought together in the same time/space in the conversation, he had a powerful and insightful experience. And in only 5-10 minutes and only using Tom’s own stories.

The more I teach and coach, the more I recognize that one of the biggest dangers as a coach is to make things too complicated. So many of the needs our clients have—even when wrapped in complex dynamics—come down to unmet basic human needs. Part of the value of the narrative approach to coaching is a refined attention to these needs as seen in people’s own stories.

How can you listen differently in your next coaching conversation?