Jumping to solutions

The thirty-seventh newsletter is not about solving problems

The vibe in the Zoom room was palpable, tense even. My peers and I had just received the news.

Coaching is not giving advice.

What? I couldn’t believe it. 

But what else would I do in sessions with clients? And what about all of this precious knowledge that I had accumulated, through hard work, learning from my mistakes, and life experience? I couldn’t share any of that?

It was clear my peers felt the same. We all went into a collective state of shock. We were, or I certainly was, in denial. Trying to negotiate with my mentor coaches: ‘But what if I do it like this, is it allowed then?’ Thinking to myself: ‘Surely it’s possible to share a little wisdom here and there.’ Grasping for straws. Hoping to find a loophole.

As the coaching program evolved, some of us calmed down. We trusted the process. We started getting glimpses of an alternative. We started understanding that there was something way more powerful (and empowering) out there. We just couldn’t do it ourselves yet, but we started to believe.

Before I knew it, I was fully on board. Understanding how ineffectual, and even damaging giving advice can be. And how powerful (and rare) true listening is.

Natural temptation

Why is giving advice so appealing? Why is it so incredibly tempting for us to find solutions to other people’s problems?

Maybe it's because there are no personal consequences, and it’s safe that way. Maybe because it’s a fun exercise for us. A puzzle.

It seems to be how the human mind works. We’re wired to solve problems. Like a compulsive Sherlock Holmes desperate to solve the next mystery. So naturally when a friend (or client) tells us what they’re currently struggling with, our minds run off and start thinking of solutions.

Too bad it doesn’t help them though.

Why?

Because we are not them.

Out of their mind

‘Advice doesn’t work’, my mentor coach coolly and calmly told us, ‘because we are not inside of our clients' heads. Our solutions, instead of serving them, actually get in their way.’

For me it clicked. What a simple but profound realization.

Of course I have no idea what makes sense in your world. I don’t have your brain-wiring, upbringing, baggage, or cultural background.

Even if you would be my longest, closest friend and I would know you though and though, all would still be guesswork. I could never understand the full complexity of your inner workings. Simply because I’m not in your head. The solutions you come up with are always going to be a better fit, because they’re unique and specific to you.

Being equipped with our problem-solving brains though, we can’t help the automatic solutions popping up and that’s okay. It’s natural. But speaking them out loud isn’t going to help the person voicing their troubles.

It interrupts their own thought process, steers them away from exploring their own ideas deeper, and inhibits them from finding their own solutions. Solutions that they always have and are always better than yours, simply because you’re not them.

Unlearning

Becoming a good listener isn’t easy.

Refraining to present people with my smart solutions has been a process of real rehabilitation (including withdrawal-symptoms and relapse).

It’s a difficult (maybe even impossible) trait to shed.

In that sense my coaching training was more about unlearning than it was about learning new things. Not only training to bite my tongue, but also to use my active, creative mind to do something else with that ‘nervous energy’.

I've had to learn to channel my curiosity, drive, and creativity into things that are useful for others. Luckily, we need all of them in different ways.

This might not be a surprise but curiosity, creativity, and the desire to understand are actually a huge advantage when it comes to listening.

The solution

Initially I thought my solution-seeking mind was a burden, so I tried suppressing it.

This didn’t work so well.

It turned me into a robot. Articulating bland and prescribed sentences because I was afraid to be myself. Plus, I couldn’t use my natural faculties, it felt like my motor was running but idling.

After some practice, real world experience, and shedding my education (finding my own way of coaching instead of formulaic ‘lessons learned’) I actually found that my active, creative mind is an absolute asset.

Coming up with sharp reflections that get to the core of what someone said and finding the question that unlocks an insight for someone is challenging in a good way.

When I use it for the right purpose (serving the client) I can allocate all of my CPU towards helping them discover solutions, and still get satisfaction out of the process. Just not from ‘being right’ or ‘being smart’, but from empowering their thought-process, and helping them navigate complex patterns, thoughts, and often opposing values and ambivalence.

Who knew that by listening I could contribute so much. And it has nothing to do with my brilliant solutions.