 ‘A virtuous cycle is a self-reinforcing loop in which a series of positive actions and outcomes continually strengthen each other.’ (Marc Wilson & Donnée MacDougall) I hardly slept on Saturday night then, yesterday evening, I spent time with friends in Germany. As it got late they offered me a lift in their car back to the apartment where I’m staying and, to their surprise, I declined. ‘Why not?’ they asked. ‘You’re very tired, it’s a 30 minutes’ walk and it’s freezing cold outside.’ ‘It’s OK. I'll walk.’ ‘But why?’, they persisted. ‘Because I don’t feel like walking.’ They looked at me completely puzzled now. Had something got lost in translation? ‘The last thing I feel like doing at the moment, when I’m tired and it’s so cold, is to walk back. Therefore, I’m choosing to walk back.’ It opened a curious discussion about self-discipline as a way to strengthen character, personal agency and resilience. It’s as if each time we make such a decision and act on it, it reinforces or changes something within us. Some philosophers argue that who we are and become is a cumulative consequence of such decisions and actions. Now don’t get me wrong. Even the best principles can get a bit crazy when pushed to extremes. Yet picture this. A person is feeling lethargic, demotivated, anxious or depressed and says they don’t feel like getting up in the morning; eating or drinking healthily; going outside for exercise, fresh air and open sky; meeting up with other people; doing something (e.g. as a volunteer) that creates a sense of achievement or makes a positive difference for others – so they don’t do it. The decision and action of not doing it, because in that moment it’s the last thing they feel like doing, actually reinforces their experience of lethargy, demotivation, anxiety or depression. It’s a vicious spiral. The solution, known in psychology as a virtuous cycle, is to do the exact opposite thing – whether we feel like it or not. In the moment, it will feel counterintuitive and we may need support from others to help break an old, fixed pattern and create a sustainable new one. Do you want to re-create your future? Get in touch!
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 ‘The art of teaching is the art of assisting discovery.’ (Mark Van Doren) In Germany this week, I watched a teacher in one the country’s Deutscher Schulpreis 2024 winning schools talk about the school’s fundamental teaching philosophy and practice. She described the relationship between teachers and students as one of coactive partnership, in which teachers play less of a role as traditional knowledge-sharers and more of a role as learning facilitators. This shift in role is reflective of, for instance, contemporary advances in learning technologies by which students can often find answers for themselves, if they know what questions to ask and, thereby, what to look for. The teacher takes more of a back seat than we might normally expect, coming alongside students with prompts, like a learning coach, only when needed. It reminded me of a similar philosophy and practice at a Montessori school in Germany where I volunteered last year, observing the approaches to learning adopted by teachers and students. Again, it was coactive and highly participative, although less rooted in e-technology and more in broader forms of experience, often involving practical, physical tasks that students worked on together. The teacher, similarly, acted as facilitator and learning coach, setting the stage for a learning topic and task rather than taking a more directive role in guiding students through it. It’s a catalytic approach that challenges conventional ideas of the role of the teacher in relation to students, the students in relation to the teacher and the students in relation to one-another. Such approaches blur the boundaries between what we might normally consider as andragogy (adult learning) and pedagogy (childhood learning); especially given their shared emphasis on self-directed learning. They prepare young people for transition into roles in wider life, jobs and organisations by encouraging and developing, for instance: initiative and ownership, research skills, critical-thinking skills, problem-solving skills and team-working skills. They call, too, for teachers to take a conscious stance and use similar skills to those normally associated with coaches and facilitators. They call for wisdom and discernment in choosing together when to be directive (tell), when to be non-directive (coach/facilitate) and when positively to withdraw. (World Teachers' Day is 5 October 2024)  ‘The people living in darkness have seen a great Light; on those living in the land of the shadow of death, a Light has dawned.’ (Matthew 4:16, the Bible) ‘Death is a thick black wall, against which every soul is hurled and shattered.’ I don’t now remember who said that, but I do remember my philosophy lecturer quoting it when we studied existentialism. These are very dark words indeed and have, for me, a deeply foreboding and chilling feel to them. I sat down and avidly wrote an essay in response, doing my best to present what, I believed, were convincing rational arguments to counter such a nihilistic and hope-less outlook. When I got my paper back, the mark was nowhere near as high as I had hoped for or expected. The lecturer had commented simply yet profoundly that an existentialist writer would have absolutely no interest in my reasoning. It’s not about objectivity or logic. It’s about how it is and feels to be in the world; a phenomenological cry of angst in the face of fragile, fathomless, futility. It was as if, in my attempt to offer ‘correct’ thinking, I had totally missed the point. It never was about thinking. As the years have passed by, I too have known that angst, at a times an almost irresistible magnetic-like pull towards my own death. Sometimes, it has felt like half-clinging on weakly to avoid being pulled over the edge. In the face of unbearable and irreparable heartbreak, suicide can feel like a least-painful solution. Tom Walker’s moving song, Leave a Light On has deep emotional resonance here. Jesus is my life-saving Light. ‘At the end of the day, it’s either God or death.’ (James Wallace). Whatever Advent means to you, Light shines in darkness. Hold onto hope.  'Now kings will rule and the poor will toil, and tear their hands as they tear the soil. But a day will come in this dawning age, when an honest man sees an honest wage.' (U2) The topic of ethics can sound and feel abstract, esoteric. Something confined to philosophy lectures. The mysterious realm of armchair academics. What does it look like in practice? Why has it become such a critical issue for organisations and societies now? Jasmin, a Filipina, is from the poorest of the poor. To her amazement, and as an answer to prayer, she finds herself with an opportunity to build a small kitchen. She looks for contractors to do the work. The first question she checks is whether the labourers are paid a fair wage. In a country and industry marred by corruption, exploitation is rife. The second is whether they will build with love, if they will pour their hearts as well as their construction skills into achieving a good result. This is so different to a purely commercial transaction. It’s about spirit, attitude – and trust. Against this backdrop, I find it helpful to think about ethics, at its simplest, as values with a moral dimension. For Jasmin, it’s about lifestyle, relationship and stance. Stance infers a choice. We are faced with a decision-point, a junction in a metaphorical road. Pragmatic wisdom would suggest a weighing up of costs against benefits. Ethics would ask who is affected and how? What would be ‘good’ and ‘right’? Why this, and why now? I look up and look around: corruption; media manipulation; climate change; environmental disaster; poverty; human rights abuse; war. How did we get here? I see the poor and vulnerable affected the most and the worst. Yet still, closer to home and within me: a temptation to put my own interests first; to close my eyes; to dull my heart; to deceive my mind; to choose the easier and expedient path. So, what does ethics look like? I ask Jasmin and her life speaks: ‘Pray, love and take a stance.’ ‘Should I stay or should I go?’ (The Clash)
Buridan’s Ass: a paradox in which a hungry donkey finds itself standing precisely midway between two identical stacks of hay. Vacillating with indecision because there are no grounds for choosing a preferred option, the poor donkey starves to death. Whilst often used in philosophy to debate issues of free will vs determinism, this allegory also serves as a graphic illustration of ambivalence. ‘Ambivalence is simultaneously wanting and not wanting something, or wanting both of two incompatible things…Take a step in one direction and the other starts looking better. The closer you get to one alternative, the more its disadvantages become apparent while nostalgia for the other beckons.’ (Miller, W. & Rollnick, S., Motivational Interviewing: Helping People to Change, 2013). We may experience this tug-of-war viscerally when faced with important and equally-compelling choices between X and Y in, say, relationships, careers or other significant life decisions. We may, likewise, experience a paralysis of analysis, a type of over-thinking if multiple options are available to us yet with no unequivocally-convincing reason to choose one course of action over another. Ambivalence can leave a person procrastinating, ineffective, drained and frustrated. It’s as if relative pros and cons balance out and leave us stuck. So how to break the deadlock and enable a change? Here are some ideas. 1. Enable a person to step back from the immediate decision to see a bigger picture. ‘What’s more important here: to make a choice, or to choose one option over another?’ 2. Ask the person: ‘What’s your intuition or gut instinct telling you, irrespective of whether or not you can see a rationale for it?’ 3. Help the person to explore different and broader perspectives: ‘Which option would e.g. God, your CEO, your team, your family or yourself 5 years from now, prefer you to take?’ 4. Support and challenge the person to take a decision and to stick with it. How do you deal with ambivalence? Do you feel stuck? Get in touch! ‘The only exercise some people get is jumping to conclusions.’ (Hal Elrod) A recurring theme in psychological coaching/OD is that of enabling a person or a team to grow in awareness of what they are believing, assuming, hypothesising or concluding. This could be about, for instance, themselves, another person, a relationship or a situation. In Yannick Jacob’s words, ‘Human beings are meaning-making machines’ (An Introduction to Existential Coaching, 2019). We are wired to see things as complete wholes and, where there are gaps, to fill them subconsciously – and therefore, by definition, without noticing we are doing it. This reflects a core concept in Gestalt psychology; where you may be familiar with, say, an image of black shapes on a white background that viewers typically see as a ‘panda’. This assumes, of course, that the person seeing the image already has an idea of panda in mind – i.e. what a panda looks like. We join the dots or, in this case the shapes, to create something that we already know. In doing so, we superimpose meaning onto the image and, at the same time, exclude alternative interpretations. It’s as if, to us, if the image is self-evidently that of a panda. Full stop. This panda-perceiving phenomenon can help us to understand how we, as individuals and as cultural groups, construe our ideas of reality at work. Drawing on limited data, we fill-in any gaps (e.g. with our own hopes, anxieties or expectations) to create what looks and feels, to us, like a complete understanding of a situation. Yet, in Geoff Pelham’s words, ‘The facts never speak for themselves’ (The Coaching Relationship in Practice, 2015). If we enable a person or a team to revisit the gaps and to hold their hypotheses lightly, fresh insights and opportunities can arise. First, pay attention to how a person is feeling, or the mood in a team. Acknowledge the emotion without necessarily seeking to change or to resolve it. Instead, invite a spirit of curiosity, a desire for discovery. Next, facilitate a process of critically-reflexive exploration: e.g. of what meaning they are making of their experience; of what needs it reveals; of what strategies they are using to address them. Now, offer support and challenge to test assumptions, stretch boundaries, shift a stance. Be prayerful and playful. Release the panda to emerge as something new. I have been gripped by The Legend of Bruce Lee (2008), a Chinese biographical drama on Netflix. As we see the extraordinary life of this iconic figure in history depicted on screen, I’ve been stimulated to reflect back on my own life too. In my teenage years, dabbling with martial arts, Bruce Lee stood out as the pinnacle, the expert that everyone admired and aspired to be like. His unique sparring technique bordered on the impossible; his philosophy was mysterious, yet strangely compelling. But, how did he get there? What can we learn as leaders, coaches and trainers from this amazing life? The first thing that strikes me (if you will excuse the pun) is that Bruce’s gift to the world arose, initially, in response to being bullied by racist thugs. He was absolutely determined to stand up to them, and therein began his martial arts quest in earnest. Having defeated his nemesis, however, Bruce found grace when his hitherto arch-enemy apologised and sought reconciliation. How far do we, and those we work with, seek, discover and create gifts in the midst of adversity, rather than simply bemoan it? How far are we, and they, open to the transforming power of forgiveness? The second is Bruce’s total single-mindedness in pursuit of his vision, passion and goal. He had a clear sense of purpose and justice in life, sometimes describing it in spiritual terms as a Divine force, and was unswervingly-unwilling to deviate from it. It meant that all other considerations had to be pushed to one side. He was willing and committed to do whatever it takes, and to persist in that until the end, never being satisfied with mediocrity. How far do we, and those we work with, tap into spiritual-existential vision and values and hold to them? Do we, and they, settle for compromise too easily? The third is Bruce’s passion for philosophy-in-action. His new martial arts discipline wasn’t just about fighting style. It was deeply embedded in and influenced by his philosophical and psychological study, observation, reflection and experimentation. In this way, his philosophy was practical and his practice was philosophical. Each was grounded dialectically and ethically in the other. Bruce would continually invite challenge from peers and experts to test, stretch and refine. How far do we, and those we work with, engage proactively with studies, peer networks and critical reflective practice? The fourth is Bruce’s open-handedness. Whereas most schools of martial arts at the time were purist and exclusive, Bruce sought actively to learn from others engaged in different forms and to share his learning too. This frequently brought ferocious and oft-violent conflict from people who felt envy or threatened by his values and approach, people who had a powerful vested interest in the status quo, yet this didn’t dissuade him from his path. He was more interested in a higher goal than self-interest; motivated more to learn, develop and enhance than to win per se. How far is that our spirit too? The fifth is Bruce’s backdrop circle of family, friends and colleagues that supported his exceptional achievements. They stood by Bruce through thick and thin, learning from him, sharing his vision and using their gifts, talents and resources to enable him to realise his dazzling mission. As I watched this astonishing life-drama unfold on TV, I couldn’t help thinking of parallels with Jesus Christ and his disciples, of ancient philosophers and their students. It inspired and refreshed my ideas of leadership and teamwork. Who supports you and those you work with, enabling your, and their, success? ‘Reality is merely an illusion, albeit a very persistent one.’ – Albert Einstein
I saw a blog by Tony Clark on Heart of the Art this morning and found it so inspiring that I thought I'd share an extract here: Take a minute to scan your surroundings. Are you in a familiar place or somewhere new? Stop reading this, and just look around you. Pick out an object, maybe something you hadn’t noticed before, and focus your attention on it. If you really focus, it’ll get brighter and more “real” than it was when it was just an unnoticed piece of the background noise of your life. Now, try to view your surroundings from the point of the object. Some people can do this with no effort, and for others, it takes some concentration. Depending on how adept you are at focusing your concentration, you may notice a slight shift in your perception – a weird jump in realty, where you are suddenly viewing the world from a different perspective. What do you think..? How would you describe your coaching style? What questions would you bring to a client situation?
In my experience, it depends on a whole range of factors including the client, the relationship, the situation and what beliefs and expertise I, as coach, may hold. It also depends on what frame of reference or approach I and the client believe could be most beneficial. Some coaches are committed to a specific theory, philosophy or approach. Others are more fluid or eclectic. Take, for instance, a leader in a Christian organisation struggling with issues in her team. The coach could help the leader explore and address the situation drawing on any number of perspectives or methods. Although not mutually exclusive, each has its own focus and emphasis. The content and boundaries will reflect what the client and coach believe may be significant: Appreciative/solutions-focused: e.g. ‘What would an ideal team look and feel like for you?’, ‘When has this team been at its best?’, ‘What made the greatest positive difference at the time?’, ‘What opportunity does this situation represent?’, ‘On a scale of 1-10, how well is this team meeting your and other team members’ expectations?’, ‘What would it take to move it up a notch?’ Psychodynamic/cognitive-behavioural: e.g. ‘What picture comes to mind when you imagine the team?’, ‘What might a detached observer notice about the team?’, ‘How does this struggle feel for you?’, ‘When have you felt like that in the past?’, ‘What do you do when you feel that way?’, ‘What could your own behaviour be evoking in the team?’, ‘What could you do differently?’ Gestalt/systemic: e.g. ‘What is holding your attention in this situation?’ ‘What are you not noticing?’, ‘What are you inferring from people’s behaviour in the team?’, ‘What underlying needs are team members trying to fulfil by behaving this way?’, ‘What is this team situation telling you about wider issues in the organization?’, ‘What resources could you draw on to support you?’ Spiritual/existential: e.g. ‘How is this situation affecting your sense of calling as a leader?’, ‘What has God taught you in the past that could help you deal with this situation?’, ‘What resonances do you see between your leadership struggle and that experienced by people in the Bible?’, ‘What ways of dealing with this would feel most congruent with your beliefs and values?’ An important principle I’ve learned is to explore options and to contract with the client. ‘These are some of the ways in which we could approach this issue. What might work best for you?’ This enables the client to retain appropriate choice and control whilst, at the same time, introduces possibilities, opportunities and potential new experiences that could prove transformational. What is real, what is true, how can we know? These are questions that have vexed philosophers for centuries. In more recent times, we have seen an increasing convergence between philosophy and psychology in fields such as social constructionism and existential therapy. How we experience and make sense of being, meaning and purpose is inextricably linked to how we behave, what we choose and what stance we take in the world. As a Christian and psychological coach, I’m intrigued by how these fundamental issues, perspectives and actions intertwine with my beliefs, spirituality and practice. Descartes once wrote, ‘If you would be a real seeker after truth, you must at least once in your life doubt, as far as possible, all things.’ It’s as if we must be prepared to suspend all assumptions about ‘what is’, to explore all possibilities and dare to think the unthinkable in order to grow and make our best contribution. Things are not always as they at first appear. There are sometimes multiple explanations for the same phenomenon, depending on the frame of reference we or others use to interpret it (see, for instance, Gareth Morgan’s seminal work, Images of Organisation, 1986). We are sometimes blinded to what’s in front of us by our prejudices, preconceptions, cultural constraints or rigid views of the world. It can be hard to maintain healthy scepticism without cynicism. I see it with clients, sometimes in myself too. A sense of being trapped by a fixed Gestalt, a cognitive distortion, an inherited or learned belief system. An inability to see, to recognise the box that we’re in, never mind to see or think outside of it. An avoidance of deep, difficult questions because of the discomfort, confusion or anxiety they may evoke. If we’re not careful, if we can’t find the right help when we need it, it may limit our lives and our learning. I think this is where coaching can play a very important role, helping pose and address some deep questions. Nick Bolton commented insightfully in Coaching Today that, ‘To explore a coaching issue existentially is to understand the relationship that the presenting problem has to the human condition to which it is a response, and to remain focused on enabling a change of perspective that allows the client to move past their current challenge.’ He also provided some helpful examples: ‘For instance, how is a client’s procrastination around something that seems to matter to her a failure to remember that life comes to an end? How is a client’s need to be unconditionally loved by his partner an attempt to deal with existential rather than interpersonal isolation? (And the solutions are very different things). How is someone’s lethargy simply a part of their fear of taking responsibility for their life?’ (July 2013, p17) A metaphysical, existential or theological dimension can shift the entire paradigm of the coaching conversation. The question of whether a client should apply for this or that job is influenced by her sense of purpose. If she is willing to consider that God may exist and have a plan for her life, the whole situational context will change. It can be a dizzying and exciting experience, yet it’s really a question of how courageous and radical we and the client are prepared to be. |
Nick WrightI'm a psychological coach, trainer and OD consultant. Curious to discover how can I help you? Get in touch! 
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