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: 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