The power of a story

Hanging from the diving board.

I was listening to a story about how we react to nature and the environment. The speaker had seen a huge field of wheat and a regimented olive grove, and suggested that our reactions to the countryside are manipulated by what we have become used to rather than by an appreciation of nature. I think he had a point; for example, a field of oil-seed rape looks impressive, yet it is a crop that previous generations would not recognise.

Whilst listening, my mind went back to childhood holidays in Kent with my father when fields were smaller and walled or hedged. I remember that I was just too young to help with the haymaking that year, but the following year a combine harvester did the work and there was no room for children. 10 years later I returned to work in Kent in the summer. The walls and fences were mostly gone, the fields were huge and there was not a human being in them.

As I continued to listen, I remembered the colour slides that my father had taken and carefully stored away in a beautifully crafted wooden box. Each one was labelled and correctly positioned so he could insert them one by one into the Aldiss slide projector to relive our holidays later in the year. I then remembered that a lifelong passion for photography began when I received a film developing and printing kit for Christmas at the age of 10. I still have the developing tank after over 50 years.

As the story continued, I began to think about those childhood pictures that were still tucked away and wondered why I had never shared them with my own family? I decided to find the old wooden box, scan the slides and recreate those past memories. It would be an opportunity to relive the time I spent with my father, who sadly passed away more than 40 years ago. I cannot wait to see those old photographs again.

But this piece is not about nostalgia. It is about the power of a story and the power of listening. The speaker could have had no idea that his plea to be more aware of our environment would transport me to my holidays as a child. It was by listening to his story that I began a process that took me to that place, an important place, somewhere I had not visited for many years. Thinking led me to decide that I was going to do something I could have done many years ago. I needed the space provided by listening to understand it.

Coaching is fundamentally about listening, and being listened to. First of all, as we tell our story we are listening to it and seeing where it takes us. Like listening to another's story, the direction is not predetermined. The direction may not be clear at first but if it is clear the story may still take us to unexpected places. Listening to our story unlocks thoughts, ideas and actions that are important to us but are lost in the day to day clutter that otherwise fills our consciousness.

As a coach, I never know where the conversation will go; I know that by listening, sometimes questioning, sometimes challenging, I can help you unlock your story. When you articulate your story and are heard, you start to think and act. This creates excitement, enthusiasm and motivation to do something new.

You may be lucky enough to look back on a career where everything was planned, and the plan came to fruition at every turn. Or you might be amazed at how serendipity has been the main controlling factor. Sir John Harvey-Jones once said, "The best thing about not planning is that failure comes as a complete surprise, instead of being preceded by a period of worry and depression".

But unexpected change does not have to result in failure. Sometimes unexpected change is good, but if you want to plan something different, the best place to start is to understand your own story and see where that takes you. If you would like me to help you tell your story, please book a free 30 minute conversation here.