photo credit: Koshyk

As you are wont to do when you are young, I had been traveling across thousands of miles of Alaska by thumb and by foot. Near the end of my journey, I came to a small town in the middle a majestic nowhere. I had been eating quite simply for weeks but was starting to crave the foods of my native California. While resting on the porch of the only store in town, I struck up a conversation with an old man who had been traveling by bike. He offered me his last orange as a gift, the first fresh fruit I had eaten in almost a month. I savored each bite, both for its sweetness and for the graciousness of the gift for a young man traveling far from home. Somehow, the best that is our humanity was captured in that moment as two people who had never met and would likely never do so again connected for a brief time. As he rode off, I was struck by the simplicity of the gift yet the profundity of the experience.

Creating moments of meaning

The title for this month’s post came from close friend in high school (here’s to you CW) if I recall. I thought of it again in light of this story as a way to illustrate how the ordinary can become the extraordinary. It reminds me of a principle of narrative coaching: to generate powerful experiences with clients to help them move toward the not-yet-known rather than to gather information in order to move them toward the known. When we create ‘moments’ of meaning’ for our clients that which was unknown becomes known in ways that can be quite eye-opening and empowering. For example, I didn’t realize how much I was ready to head for home until I took the first bite of that well-traveled and juicy orange. Even more, I’ve never forgot that simple, yet timely gesture.

My invitation to you is to find someone today — a client, a colleague, a loved one— who needs an ‘orange’ from you. Amid the din and rush of our days, give this person a few moments where they feel ‘met’ and cared for. It is those experiences, where the unknown skies open, that will bring about the insight and inspiration we all need. It is about grace more than about goals. If each of us gave a few more ‘oranges’ and allowed ourselves to receive them more easily, imagine what a difference it would make!

Listening narratively

Narrative coaches stay in the lived experience of the conversation as much as possible. Some of the practices they use in doing so:

1. Create a rich narrative field, notice what appears, remain connected even in silence, and actively engage with the coachee’s narration as it emerges. Invite coachees to stay in their stories as they unfold across a series of present moments. As they do so, the characters, context, and conclusions will become more apparent and available for renegotiation.
2. Help people come to their stories with less judgment in order to loosen their group on their identity and lives and provide an opening for greater awareness, more trust in themselves, more conscious choices and better results.
3. Put more emphasis on generating experiences and less on rushing to interpretation, meaning, or action. Doing so, will more likely and fully engage the whole person and create conditions more similar to what they will encounter after the session.
4. Trust that people will begin at the level at which they are ready and the critical themes will be forthcoming regardless of which stories they share first. Any story or set of stories can be a portal into the larger issues at play for people and the path to reaching their resolution or aspiration.
5. Build rapport through hemispheric resonance by starting with coachee’s preference but then invite them onto the path of change by drawing on the other hemisphere to bring in elements that were not part of the original story (Siegel, 2007).  Draw on the factual, sequential, and verbal parts of the story, largely a product of the left hemisphere and the more personal, contextual, nonverbal parts of the story, largely a product of the right hemisphere, as needed to elicit the whole story.
6. Help coachees identify narrative data from their lives that support an alternate view of who they are and how they want to be in the world—what White and Epston (1990) called “unique outcomes,” Hewson (1991) called “exceptions” and the Heaths (Heath & Heath, 2010) called “bright spots.” At the same time, realize that in order for new stories or new relations between stories to take hold in coachees’ lives, they must build on elements of familiar stories in order to ‘scaffold’ their ascendance.

Therefore: (1) help people to become more aware of the contours of their available narratives and either reframe them or their relationship to them; (2) guide them in discovering and developing new options (often hidden as gems in their own stories) and a more evolved repertoire; and (3) help them to successfully launch their new story as the basis for fulfilling their aspirations. Any story told in a coaching session, even if it has served as a transformational vehicle in that setting, must survive the ‘retellings’ if coachees are to sustain the changes they have begun.

When I am speaking on and demonstrating a narrative approach to coaching, many people are quick to recognize that it seems both quite powerful and quite different to more traditional approaches to coaching. I often get asked, “How do you do it?” Therefore, I decided that over the next few weeks I will share with you some of the foundational elements behind narrative coaching and some of the practical implications for our work. Much of this material will appear in my chapter in a forthcoming coaching encyclopedia edited by two colleagues from the evidence-based coaching program at Fielding Graduate University I helped to found. I look forward to hearing about your observations, reflections and experiences.

Narrative coaching is a body of knowledge that draws on millennia of ancient wisdom, a century of social science thinking, and breakthroughs in domains like the neurosciences to create an approach to development fitting for our times. It is a mindful, experiential, and holistic approach to helping people shift their stories about themselves, about others, and about life itself in order to create results that matter to them. Narrative coaches take a more “decentered” position in their role, a more nondirective approach to the coaching process, and a more contextual view of coachees’ identity, development and behavior.

Six philosophical assumptions which inform narrative coaching

1. People’s situated identity and their situational behaviors are mutually reinforcing and each can be tapped as a lever for change
2. The power created in the relational field between two people in coaching is more important than the specific techniques that are used
3. Margins, borders and the unconscious are more central to making meaningful change than linear plans focused on symptom relief
4. People’s own stories provide the primary material for coaching conversations and the language and vehicle for change
5. A keen awareness of the present without judgment and the ability to pay closer attention are as critical in coaching as external goals
6. The rites of passage model (a contextual frame) is more useful for guiding change than the medical model (a mechanistic frame)

A narrative approach to coaching works exceptionally well across cultures as it is less tied to western epistemologies and more easily tuned to local dynamics. It is quite useful in giving voice to non-dominant groups as part of a larger evolution in the systems in which they work and live, ie, in organizations embarking on culture change.

photo credit: Aidan M. Grey

I was away last weekend in the mountains of New Mexico for a New Warriors Weekend sponsored by the ManKind Project. It truly was a transformative experience for me both personally and professionally. I would highly recommend it to any man who wants to honestly engage his deeper masculinity and his submerged shadows in order to take both his life and his service to a higher level. The world needs us to be more awake and alive. I was privileged to be a man among men who are committed to that journey.

Where are you holding on?

The thought for today’s post came while I was holding a pine cone while out on a brief walk as part of the experience. I flashed back to a time when I was holding a similar pine cone. I was standing on the western coast of Italy in 1999 overlooking the ocean near the town of Portofino. I had received news the night before that my father had died back in California. I had been led by Spirit to find this spot in order to say good-bye to my dear father since I would not make it back there for a few days. I arrived there just as the sun was setting and in a place that reminded me of the coast of northern California where we had grown up. I’ve held on to that pine cone, both literally and figuratively, as a link to my dad and a memory of that place ever since then.

Where can you now let go?

While I’ve always held the pine cone as a symbol of new life, its meaning shifted for me in the context of the recent weekend. Standing in the high desert mountains, I came to realize that the pine cone’s true purpose is to “die” and fall to the ground so that new trees can be born. It was no longer of service to my father or myself to act as a guardian of the sacred cone. Rather, my choice now is to release it so that its mission can be accomplished. As part of this process, I released another huge layer of my own illusions of immortality in order to turn more of my attention to the “trees” I want to leave behind.

Pine cones need to fall to the ground. In honoring this truth, I was able to leave the weekend much lighter and committed to doing the work that needs to be done. I invite you to identify the “pine cones” you carry for others — and the stories you keep telling yourself in order to keep them in place. Let me fall to the ground so they can fulfill their purpose in the world and you can more passionately and completely fulfill yours. Nothing grows from seeds you hold.

David

photo credit: sbblackley

The title for today’s post honors the recent death of Richard Wright, founding member of the legendary rock band Pink Floyd. In my work with clients, we often focus on creating the ‘container’ in which they can feel safe enough to openly and honestly engage in the stories they’ve long told themselves. It is from this place that they can be courageous enough to explore what else is possible. It is as if they are asked to make new choices about whether they want to add the next ‘brick’ (a story about an experience) to an existing wall or to a new path (the larger narratives we tell and live).

Are you a security guard or a seeker?

One is about security and one is about seeking. While both are important at the right time in coaching and in life, the former is often informed by our fears while the latter is generally informed by our hopes. As Ira Chernus recently wrote, “Whenever people shelter behind walls for protection, they reinforce the fears that sent them behind those walls in the first place.” While the recent economic events in the U.S. have caused many people, myself included, to pay a new kind of attention to issues of real security, I can’t help but see a need to retain our commitment to seek new paths from this place we are in.

Which story are you going to reinforce?

Narrative coaches help their clients to increase their ability to notice the “brick” in their hand and be mindful and courageous about the chocies they make in the moment as to which story they are going to reinforce. This image fits well with what we know neurologically in terms of how habits are formed through the reinforcement of certain neural constellations.

There are certainly times when we all need a healthy and reassuring dose of stability and security, particularly in times of duress and change. However, there is a great need in these times of extraordinary flux to equip clients to fully step onto the pathes in front of them—even those that are not fully formed yet.

Where are you putting your “bricks” today as you think about your most significant experiences and contacts? Are you adding to the walls around yourself and/or others — or are you using them to extend the paths toward what is possible?

photo credit: Serendigity

I was struck by the closing lines of a TIME magazine article yesterday, “[Obama's] story of a boy whose father came from Kenya and mother from Kansas takes place in an America not yet mythologized, a country that is struggling to be born—a multiracial country whose greatest cultural and economic strength is its diversity. It is a country where our children already live and that our parents will never really know. . . But that vision is not really sellable right now to a critical mass of Americans. They live in a place. . . where myths are more potent than getting past the dour realities they face each day.”

What are the myths we need now?

It seems to me that one of the greatest gifts of narrative coaches is their ability to help people re-mythologize their lives in keeping with what is being asked of them. Sometimes it is about relinquishing stories that no longer serve them . . . sometimes it is about shifting stories that no longer match their current realities . . . and sometimes it is about birthing new stories that provide a better path to the future they want to create.

It is tempting in this ‘Alice-in-Wonderland’-like time around the U.S. presidential elections for people to accept the frames that are spun, become seduced by packaged ‘myths’, and fall into the polarities that are evangelised as gospel. However, the deeper and truer mythic function is that of reminding us of the broader principles of human relations. These myths tend to harden as nostalgia when we lack sufficient ability to situate and know ourselves in changing times. It is no surprise that when people are in these places, many are swayed by those who tap into the latent potency of such fantasies. As they say, energy follows attention.

Finding a sense of place

The U.S. is on the cusp of a significant juncture in its young history. It seems to me that the optimal choices involve helping Americans step into a deeper and richer mythology about what it means (and looks like) to be a great nation. Doing so will enable us to gracefully and fruitfully change our stories about dreams and empires. Part of this process will require us to join together in remythologizing what we mean by ‘family’ and ‘home.’ The power of this quest was brought home to me in reading J. Edward Chamberlin’s book, ‘If This Is Your Land, Where Are Your Stories?’ when he writes, ‘This is the home we all long for, the Jerusalem are not to forget. It may be the place we came from, five or fifty of five hundred years ago, or the place we are going to when our time is done. It is the place we still haven’t found but are looking for. The place that gives us a sense of self, and of others.‘

Welcome home.

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?

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.

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.