photo credit: Andreas Øverland

What does this simple photo evoke in you?

Among other things, it reminds me of how much of our daily life is a screen onto which we project our narrative frames. Does the photo stir excitement in imagining what you might find if you climbed the stairs? Does it stir a sense of foreboding as you imagine what might come down the stairs? Or something else altogether? I’ve been vividly reminded in recent weeks of the impact of our choices in how we construct our views of people, places and events. Even though we know that this story-making is central to how our individual and collective minds work, it is not always an easy task.

I’ve come to believe, however, that the art and discipline of noticing our stories as they emerge in the moment is at the core of narrative coaching and of being more fully human. This is particularly important when we feel ensnared in events that are challenging for us. With a tip of the hat to Irving Yalom and Byron Katie, in these times I ask myself questions like, “What is the ‘story’ I am telling myself? How is that ‘story’ serving me? What do I need to release so that I can see the situation with a bigger heart and a bigger mind? What would I gain if I did so?

Waking up in a New Year

As I look out across a new year, I am reminded of a quote from the famous photographer, the late Henri Cartier-Bresson. While in Vienna recently for some holiday and lining up two projects there for later this year, I had the unexpected pleasure of seeing a major exhibit of his work as well as another of my favorites, René Magritte. Each of these artists was gifted in helping us to question how we see the world. As Cartier-Bresson wrote in 1994, “My passion has never been for photography in itself, but for the possibility—through forgetting myself—of recording in a fraction of a second the emotion of the subject and the beauty of the form, the geometry awakened by what is offered.” He describes it as a ‘decisive moment’ when the head, heart and eye are aligned along the same line of sight.

Beauty is indeed in the eye of the beholder. As you make your way into a new year, spend five minutes right now reflecting on a story you’ve recently told yourself (and perhaps others) that now feels limiting to you.

1. Where is there an opening to release your ‘narrative grip’ to make room for new possibilities?
2. What part of the story needs to be released, like a drop back into the ocean?
3. What other part of the story wants to be told?
4. What space would open up in your heart, mind and life if you shifted your frame?

Resolutions in the new year are less about grand promises and more about the daily practices of increasing our awareness and our courage in the stories we choose to tell. Every moment can be a decisive one. Peace to each of us on our journey…

photo credit: stopjessica

In reading a speech by Bill Moyers the other day, I was reminded of a old story from the Native American tradition.

There was a tribal elder who was telling his grandson about the battle the old man was waging inside himself. He said, “It is between two wolves, my son. One is an evil wolf: Anger, envy, sorrow, greed, arrogance, self-pity, guilt, resentment, lies, false pride, superiority, and ego. The other is the good wolf: Joy, peace, love, hope, serenity, kindness, benevolence, empathy, generosity, truth, compassion and faith.” The boy thought this over for a minute, and then asked his grandfather: “Which wolf wins?” The old Cherokee replied simply: “The one I feed.”

While there is certainly something to be said for learning how to tell stories for the purpose of inspiring and leading others, most of our behavior each day is driven by the stories we tell ourselves in the moment. These narrative patterns are built up over time and reinforced with the stories we verbalize to others, but they are open to change over time. This is a large part of what narrative coaching is about.

The first task is to notice which story seems present in the moment. In this pause, and the space that opens up, new stories become possible. For example, I can ask myself in a difficult moment whether I am being guided by fear or by love. I can ask myself whether a given reaction brings me closer to or farther away from being more enlightened. In doing so, I often notice where I am attached to a story that does not serve me (or others).

Which wolf are you feeding today?

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.