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.

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: 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?

We are launching our new website and new workshops! I’ve had the opportunity to speak on my work to over 1,000 poeple in the last couple of years. Now it is time to finally offer my work to my fellow coaches and other professionals (Human Resources/Capital, Organizational Development, Leadership Development, etc.).

If you’d like to know more about David and his work, sign up on our website for an upcoming telecall. It will be your chance to ask questions about narrative coaching and about the workshops.

The first two are scheduled for Tuesday, April 1st at 2:00pm PDT (California) and Tuesday May 6th at 4:00om PDT.

While you are there, check out the flyer for our first workshop in Perth and more information about our new series leading to certification next year. Drop us a comment on one of our early blog posts to let me know what you think.

We are also seeking firms to work with us in hosting our workshops. Use the contact form to let us know of your interest or point us to someone who would be a good candidate. Thanks.

photo credit: Miss Claeson
Today’s story is about my mother. Some years ago she was walking in the woods with her brother and sister who had come to visit. Knowing that my mother had a knack for finding coins—and being jazzed when she did—the two of them quietly walked ahead of her and began randomly and discretely dropping coins on the trail. “I found a quarter” came the first holler. “Here’s a dime!” came the next. After a couple more times, my mother grew suspicious and her siblings could barely contain their giggles. Finally, they fessed up.

This could be a story about gullibility, but it is really about joy. They had found something that delighted my mom. They used the occasion to recount family stories about other legendary pranks and sources of delight they’d known as children. Other stories, past and present, sprang from them. What delights your clients?

Moral of the story: Don’t worry about where your clients start in narrating their experience. Follow their trail of coins to the sacred spot where you can talk about what matters to them and would bring them joy.

photo credit: woodleywonderworks
As we launch our new narrative coaching workshop series in Perth, Australia on May 26th/27th, I was curious to know what was on your mind about clients and their stories these days. What do you wish you knew about narrative/coaching that would help you be more present and powerful with your clients?

The Foundations Workshop, “The Power of Coaching at the Narrative Level,” provides the essentials of how stories work, the links between stories and identity/behavior, and how to work with the narrative material in sessions to accelerate the client’s awareness, development and movement. Three more foundational workshops are scheduled for Australia in 2008 and we anticipate being able to offer one in New Zealand and one in Canada this year. If all goes well, we will offer a five-day advanced program in late 2008 and start our one-year certification/mastermind program in early 2009.

I offer this space on our site for you to tell us what you’d most like to know or be able to do as a result of learning about narrative coaching. What would you most want from our workshop if you came? Even if we can’t address it in the workshop, I would be happy to dialog with you about your interest and point you in directions where you can find the resources you seek.

Click on the “Share Your Comment” link at the bottom of this post and let us know what you think.

It’s a contest!
As we launch this new site, we’d love to get your feedback. Therefore, we are running a CONTEST between now and March 31st. One person’s comments will be chosen at random and that person will receive an autographed copy of the new book I edited with Diane Brennan and Kim Gørtz, “The Philosophy and Practice of Coaching” (www.practiceofcoaching.com).

SEND US YOUR COMMENTS by replying to this post. We are particularly interested in two questions (though we will welcome them all):

1. What are your first impressions of the site (feel, tone, message, impact, etc.)? What would make it better in terms of its design (usability, visual appeal, readability, navigation)?
2. What else would you like to know about narrative coaching and/or about our work?

When the contest is completed, I will share the top comments—and the changes we made as a result—as well as announce the winner.
Let me close with a story about the importance of aligning our actions with our intentions. It is also a great example of the power of the shadow to crop up in unexpected places. It seemed fitting for this query about the alignment of our goals for this site with how it is experienced by you.

The young couple, committed to justice work and a simple lifestyle, were walking up the dusty trail to Chimney Rock. Her thoughts included an uncertainty on what shadow work meant for her in her life as a mother, spouse and activist; his thoughts included a disdain for people’s preoccupation with status and symbols. Part way up the trail their thoughts intersected in an unintended fashion.

He was wearing a pair of sneakers that had been given to him. Even though they bore a famous brand name, he had begrudgingly kept them because they were a gift. As she walked along behind him on the trail, she looked down to see that he was stamping the word “Reebok” in the dust with every step he took. The irony was not lost on her—he had become a walking advertisement for a value he did not consciously hold. Like a Zen student who suddenly awakens to the meaning of a koan, she knew at that moment what the shadow was all about.