photo credit: xoque

Do you ever get to the place in your work where you feel like there is too much to do, to remember, to track? I used to pride myself in being able to hold a lot at once — in my mind, for my clients, and about my work. As the complexity of our world increases almost geometrically and I find myself affected by the simple arithmetic progression of aging, I find that harder and harder to do.

I thought about this the other day in the context of launching a narrative coaching center with a team in Toronto and the first narrative design lab in Sydney. Add that to my full-time practice, research and writing projects, and a personal life — and it started to feel a bit much.  I had the chance to talk with my  friend and colleague Andrea J. Lee about my plans. In the course of doing so, she suggested that I might need to release my need to understand it all — and just do the next thing that needs doing. It was a wonderful insight that really hit home for me.

Enjoy the vista, but watch your feet

As I put this approach into practice the next day on a planning call with Toronto, there was a much greater sense of ease and grace in our conversation. What had become long lists of tasks quickly distilled into some immediate actions to take. It felt liberating. This is not about ticking lots of ‘to do’ boxes like a mouse running in a wheel; it’s about building toward something meaningful one step at a time. The era of seeing the whole picture, knowing everything about something, and planning the entire journey is over. Now, it is about doing what needs to be done next — and from there seeing what the world looks like and acting accordingly.

It’s like a good story. The magic is in the suspense of wondering what will happen next, and long arc of the plot often only becomes apparent in the end. I think our work is more and more like that. How about you? We take the steps we need to take in order to respond to and create what is emerging . . . and soon marvel at how far we have come and where we have arrived! Like stories, understanding is in retrospect, not a requirement for getting started.

If you feel stuck or daunted by all that needs to be done, ask yourself right now, “What’s the next thing that needs doing?”

photo credit: ginnerobot

One of the trends I’ve noticed with my clients and in other organizations is a need for a greater integration of coaching skills and conversations within teams. The reasons include:

1. the recalibration of the spend on external coaches and how they are used
2. the growing need for more agile and conscious decision making
3. the increasing capabilities of internal staff to facilitate and coach issues in real-time
4. the recognition that the sources of many challenging behaviors are environmental

For example, I am working with one client, a large professional services firm, to develop a team-centered coaching model to enable hundreds of teams to use a common, team-centered approach to address the real business issues they face. The work is part of a broader effort to (1) reframe some of the internal narratives about what it means to be a ‘good’ team through research on exemplar teams, unpacking how they work, and sharing their stories with others; and to (2) instill greater accountability at the personal and team level for learning, development, and performance. In a conversation the other day, a team leader asked me how to help his team become more ready for these types of conversations. I immediately thought of a simple metaphor to use in answering his question and coupled it with familiar model to describe the evolution of a team:

Growing a team is like making a cupcake

Storming: The first phase is getting the group together to decide what they are going to make, assemble the ingredients they will need, and stir the batter.

Norming: The second phase is about confirming they still want to make cupcakes, deciding what size and shape they want, and what is important to them about the final products.

Forming: The third phase is finding the right pan in which to cook them and lining the pan for a smooth outcome, turning on the oven to the right temperature, pouring in right amount of batter, and placing the pain in the oven.

Performing: The fourth phase involves taking them out of the oven at the right time (often a true test for the bakers), letting them cool (again, a call for good judgment), taking them out of the pan, and then decorating them (often an occasion for friction as preferences emerge about beauty versus efficacy, for example).

Transforming: The final phase is an important one in that the true purpose of this process is not just good performance but to use the result to achieve a higher purpose — in this case serving them to others for their enjoyment. While teams often provide valuable experience for people at many levels, they are perhaps more of a means rather than the end themselves. It comes down to, “what do you want to accomplish with this team?”

Part of the value of working metaphorically and narratively with clients is being able to use their everyday experiences rather than lots of complex models and long lists to help them achieve their goals. As far as I know, no team in history has every been transformed by bullet points on a PowerPoint slide. It comes down to getting in the ‘kitchen’, rolling up your sleeves and having meaningful, authentic conversations about things that matter.

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