Funny moment not too long ago.
I was on the phone with someone, talking through a crisis at work.
We were dissecting what precipitated the crisis, the decisions my client had made so far (the good and not-so-great), and what all this might mean for their career.
After we got clear on the client’s own assessment of their decisions and their objectives, we got into their options going forward. A workplace rival was sure to use this as an opportunity to discredit my client. We were anticipating that prospect. How to not only manage the crisis but also stave off this weaselly colleague. “Do I even want to have this battle? Is it worth it?”
You’ll forgive me if I don’t go into detail. The various players and conversations we were concentrating on were taking place in boardrooms in Asia, India, London, and the US. Depositions were involved. Lots of dollars — and careers — at stake.
I found myself saying, “Toughen up, buttercup! I love this for you.”
I’m not a mean person. I don’t want you, or other clients, to have unnecessary stress. But this is a person who wants to be a CEO. Crises and infighting are part of the package.
The minute after I said that I stopped and laughed. “What do I know?? I’m just a 52 year old white lady in rural Maine. For me, personally, none of what you’ve done has been worth it!”
I’ve never been to Asia, or India, and all I remember of London is throwing up at a musical production of Annie (I visited when I was 9). I’m neither capable of, nor interested in, the kind of work my client loves and hungers for.
We both smiled for a minute together. I watched two eagles circle and dive above a stand of trees across the lake. It was a weekend, and I was on a walk. (That’s not my usual coaching approach, but longstanding clients in crisis get a little scheduling leeway.)
Then the client said, “Yeah, but I’m talking to you because I want your perspective.”
I started walking again, and we were back into strategizing. “Don’t walk away from this fight. As fights go, what you’ve told me makes me think you’re not in a terrible position — and you’re going to learn a ton about your relationships, your allies, and your appetite for this kind of situation. This is what you’ve said you wanted. Now is your chance to test that assumption.”
By the time we hung up, we’d gotten away from anxiety and ambivalence into plan-making, from a clear understanding of my client’s priorities. It felt good, at least to me.
The picture up above is where I was when we were having this conversation. I didn’t see another human for the whole hour. As I drove home, I smiled, thinking about the peculiar irony of plotting boardroom moves from fields and forest.
But today I think it might be BECAUSE I’m not in a corporate boardroom than I can be helpful.
Sometimes what you need from a coach is expertise. But sometimes what you need from a coach is perspective. The next time you find yourself managing a decision, recognize which kind of help you’re seeking.
When you know your priorities and some of what it will take to achieve them, but aren’t confident about your skills, seek expertise. People who’ve done what you want to do are often good advisors for these kinds of problems.
When you aren’t sure how you feel yet, and are sorting through overwhelm, ambivalence, or indecision, seek perspective. People who are outside your world, and don’t share the assumptions, constraints, and priorities that you and your colleagues take for granted are often good advisors for these kinds of problems.
Before you seek help, ask yourself which kind of viewpoints will be most helpful, and whether to look for them within your environment or apart from it.
