Coaching by Kathy Kessler

Another brick in the wall

Kathy — Sun, 19 Feb 2012 18:15:03 +0000

Mark Nepo, poet, philosopher, and teacher, talks about having a choice each day: we can build walls and block ourselves from the light, from others, or live barely in the open, shining through. We “live behind walls that were started by others and finished by ourselves.”

We’re hurt and walls go up automatically. Then we reinforce, add layers by not showing our feelings, not asking questions, not verbalizing what we know to be true for us. “Not going to lay myself open to that one again.” Assumptions build. We tell ourselves stories about other’s motivations and intentions based on our unique perspective of the world. In reality we have very little idea of what’s going on in their head.

I remember the start of one of my walls: the frustrated and overwhelmed (I realized much later) caregiver who slapped me at the age of 4. I experienced instant anger, humiliation, sadness. Whoa, throw me a brick; the guardedness that I erected with that person.

Here’s the thing with walls: they don’t really protect us. To our defensive egos, hurts come in all different forms. So while we’re on the lookout for a particular offense we get blindsided.

Here’s the other thing with walls…in addition to blocking the “bad stuff”, they also keep the “good stuff” out. They dim the joy. In order to keep walls in place we dampen emotions.

What I know is that erecting a wall equals automatic which equals reaction. The reaction takes away my choice of an intentional response. Automatic equals “that’s just the way I am” and that doesn’t serve me. It wastes the opportunity for me to get to know myself in a different way. It wastes the opportunity to get curious about what I’ve spent a life-time constructing. And looking at the possibilities a tear-down might open for me.

I want to experience the exquisiteness of living barely…in the open…

Books and the stepping back

Kathy — Tue, 15 Nov 2011 16:50:26 +0000

I like words; even more when arranged to tell a story. I remember both joy and anxiety as a curious 5 year-old at Carnegie-Stout Public Library. The smell, the wood, the elevated glass floor excited me. I felt nurtured by the tales and the characters.

My introduction to science fiction through Meg and Charles Wallace Murry in A Wrinkle in Time was the best I could’ve hoped for. At 10, Scarlett’s tumultuous path to self-awareness was my constant companion in Gone with the Wind. I loved getting lost in the journeys. What a cool way to leave Iowa!

Eventually my reading tipped more towards non-fiction. It was world expanding, how I learned and honed critical thinking. I had an unuttered thought that the more I read the better – seeking through books. If I read the right books I would have a clear sense of direction in the world; know what I needed to know.

And then it dawned on me…the number of books (not to mention all other sources of information) was GROWING faster than I could read. STACKS – I had stacks of books started and put aside, a current stack from the library, a stack of classics to reread or read for the first time. Then there was (still is) the on-going list of “to reads” from reviews and friend recommendations. An open fire hose of fast moving, overwhelming data.

About the same time I noticed that I would start a book and set it aside (the stack closet to my bed) when it wasn’t resonating with me. Months, years later a thought, a question would take me to that same book. Then the words sounded as though written particularly for me. Really? Can it work like that?

That being “called to a book” has been my approach for several years now. I’ve let go of a low level anxiety I didn’t know existed around books; part of my deepening into self-compassion.

So the question pops, “Are there other areas of my life where I’m using the fire hose approach, over-researching, over-analyzing, rather than stepping back and waiting for it to come to me?”

The exploration continues…

What do athletes and musicians have in common?

Kathy — Fri, 30 Sep 2011 12:43:13 +0000

Atul Gawande, author, researcher, and endocrine surgeon, performed 2,000 operations in 8 years. He knew he was a good surgeon. And he knew he was a good tennis player. Then an accidental lesson with a young tennis coach added ten miles an hour to his serve – already the best part of his game. That brief but powerful experience led him to ponder those who routinely utilize coaches – professional athletes and classical musicians – and those who don’t – everyone else.

Gawande hired a coach, a retired surgeon he held in high regard from his residency. While curious, “I wondered whether he would find anything useful to tell me.” The new coach observed an operation that “went beautifully.” He watched, listened, and made notes. He then shared suggestions, “only small things.” “That one twenty-minute discussion gave me more to consider and work on than I’d had in the past five years.”

Near the end of the article Gawande suggests that coaching aimed at improving the performance of people who are already professionals can be risky. “…bad coaching can make people worse.”

Leading me to…how do you know when coaching is mediocre? What does good coaching sound, feel, look like:

inquiry and invitation vs. directing
supportive, no judgement
compassion and clarity
total presence and focus on you
seeing – this person “gets” me
sharing of a unique perspective not your own
resonance – thoughts shared sound true and entitled to consideration

Gawande continues to be coached and improve as a surgeon. See the full New Yorker article.

Integrity is the new mark of success

Kathy — Mon, 19 Sep 2011 19:35:33 +0000

Stop – replay – stop – replay. My index finger hovered hearing David R. Hawkins, author, physician, scientist, say, “Integrity is the new mark of success in the world. For many decades and generations it was title, riches, money, and position.”

Bing – struck a chord with me. Yes, for decades we’ve lived a paradigm of acquisition – amassing possessions, power, dollars, and titles. Depending on your life philosophy this acquisition could be neutral.

On a micro level as I look on past phases of my life I see that integrity took a hit when I was focused elsewhere. Either I was focused on actions or goals that weren’t fully in integrity with who I am. Or I was not intentional with my actions – hadn’t thought through the impact on me and the world.

Integrity encompasses our choices every second of every day. Integrity determines the feel, the direction, the tenor of our life. Relationship, job, and career are the big ones. Then there is food/alcohol/all that I put in my body, how I spend my time, and the focus of my conversations. What is the cost when our actions are not fully in integrity with who we are?

It feels that we are in a dark night of the soul; we being societies, countries, and institutions. Worldwide, witness tens of active military conflicts, hunger and upheaval following natural disasters, and the disarray of finance, education, politics, religions, families, and health care.

A hallmark of the dark night is opportunity. Hmm, opportunity around integrity. For each of us to live more intentional integrity; where might that take us on a micro and macro level?