I was texting with a friend this week, and he asked me how I was doing. We share a lot, so I said that I was dealing with a bout of SAD–Seasonal Affective Disorder. Citing Provincetown, MA’s recent weather–which has seen more cold rainy days than anything else, plus this time of year’s usual late sunrises and early sunsets–I said that most days I want to skip my morning run, push pause on work, and stay in bed reading and eating bags of chocolate chip cookies.
He also lives in New England, which meant he could empathize with my hibernating fantasy for this year in particular. We admitted that most of the time this month we’ve simply been putting one foot in front of the other, doing our best to do our best, and not beating ourselves up if we're not over-achieving right now.
After we finished texting, I felt an odd sense of relief. I realized that I hadn’t really been sharing what I was feeling with many people, having only mentioned this bout of SAD off-hand to one of my partners. But having told my friend about it in more detail–even just over text–helped move something in my system. I felt freer and lighter.
I also felt less guilty about feeling the way I feel.
Now there are all kinds of reasons–therapy has helped me uncover the big ones–why I struggle sometimes to say what I am feeling. But in this instance, the symptom and cause were the same. My energy level and mood are down, so I was less interested in expressing my feelings. Because I wasn’t expressing my feelings, my energy level and mood were staying stuck.
This simple texting conversation reminded me that we often can’t fix–or improve or otherwise change–that which we don’t, won’t, or can’t say.
It also reminded me of something I learned in coach training class last year, which is that you can’t coach what your client won’t say. My main job as a coach is to help my clients figure out and say what they want or what’s bothering them or needs changing. But it’s not my job to spell it out for them. Most times if someone isn’t ready or able to say–for example–that they are unsatisfied in their career or that they want to learn how to be a better manager, they’re not going to explore how to change those things simply because I tell them to think about pursuing a new career or taking a management training course.
Admittedly, I first resisted this notion mightily in coach training class. I mistakenly thought that the job of a coach was to figure it all out for the client and tell them what to do. But in time, I saw how and why it’s powerful to help people figure these things out on their own rather than directing them to where I think they need to go. For one thing, we often know ourselves better than anyone (even if we don’t think so) and for another, people are more likely to implement changes that they name and think through, rather than what someone else dictates to them.
Of course there is a lot of gray here. Sometimes clients just want advice about a particular situation or decision–and if they ask for that then I am happy to give it. But even if all signs point to X but the client is still saying Y, I will stay with Y and ask all sorts of questions about it until the client is ready to consider X.
My realization today about my own SAD feelings and connecting that to my coaching work was one of those a-ha moments that always amuse me. They often seem so obvious in retrospect, but our lives and our realities are so often far from obvious. I’m grateful for the coaches and therapists and friends who have helped me make these connections over the years. It’s a good reminder why I pursued coaching in the first place and how I strive to show up with my clients.
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This book contains more information about the “can’t coach what they won’t say” concept (and a lot more). Apologies to Jonathan, its author and one of my instructors, who probably saw me roll my eyes in the early days of class whenever he talked about this approach!
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