It's Good to Own Your Gifts

First published on February 22, 2019

I've noticed a thing I do well. It's about creating stories. Stories that make sense to people. Connecting dots for them, drawing those dots together into something the person is happy to share, to help them get what they want.

[Spoiler: the answer is telling the truth, more, with skill.]

Sometimes this is to help a client introduce themselves. A client I spoke to last week was asking how they can talk about coaching. She joked, "I've worked in teaching people communication for ten years and I can't communicate this."

"That's it," I said. "When someone asks you what you do, you say "Well, it's funny - I've been training people in communication for ten years, but the work I do, even for me, is hard to explain, is hard to communicate, because this thing coaching, it's powerful, and it's magical, and it's hard to describe."

Another client came across the video series I created with my friend Nicole, about Mastering Your Personal Brand. She was answering the questions we pose in one of those videos, and suddenly emerging from her was a newfound confidence, realising her previous experience suddenly sounded powerful when she spoke about it in certain ways, and suddenly she didn't feel like such a beginner in her new business any more. Because she wasn't. Because she'd been doing the work for 30 years, she just hadn't realised it until that moment.

Often, I'll coach people on the difficult conversations they want to have with their boss, or their partner, or a colleague. They'll tell me about it, articulating beautifully the challenges they face, and often showing deep understanding and compassion for the other person. And then they'll say, 'How do I tell them this?'

And, often, I find myself being the voice in their life, asking: 'What would happen if you told the truth, like you've just told it to me?'

But this isn't just about telling the truth. This is about one of the deepest and most important communication skills, storytelling. "But wait," people sometimes ask, as I sometimes suggest sharing (only) part of what is happening in their life, truthfully, with their boss, perhaps not mentioning everything, "Isn't this dishonest or inauthentic?"

And the answer is, 'That depends.' But we never tell the full truth. We never tell everything. There is always storytelling happening. We don't share every thought with even our closest loved ones. We can't, because we think faster than we speak, and we aren't with them all the time. It is literally impossible to tell everything. We are always sharing only a select view of what we have seen in the world.

And so why not choose what we share with more skill?

That's one of the gifts, that I've noticed I have, this week in particular. I joy in doing it, in finding the story people can tell, for themselves or more usually to share what they feel in themselves with the world. But the gift isn't just any story, it's a story that is coherent, that makes sense to them, and will make sense to the world. An honest reason to be doing what they are doing.

And it got me thinking, where did this thing that I do, that I love to do, come from?

I think it started early. One of the great gifts my parents gave me was to help me see things from other people's perspectives. Almost all parents do this ("How do you think Johnny felt when you hit him on the head with your plastic train?"), but mine, I think, had a particular skill, bringing with them skills of counselling and psychotherapy, as well as a deep curiosity about how the world, and people, work.

Then I honed that skill: I spent hours (sometimes with my brother, sometimes alone) playing elaborate games with action figures, sometimes superheroes, sometimes Action Force, sometimes other things - Thundercats, He-Man, Captain Planet. These were deep and intricate games with characters and depth. Slipping into the people, their relationships, their adventures. These stories were real and they were coherent. Sometimes they lasted days at a time.

Then I honed it further: aged 11, I started acting: in a school play as a first world war soldier, singing carols across the trenches at Christmas. And I spent the next 15 years spending hundreds if not thousands of hours doing this, playing other people, getting into their characters. I remember, aged 15, on a course with the National Youth Theatre, hating the part I had... until I found the way to understand the person, to make his story coherent. Then it made sense, and I found joy in it. I remember this moment again and again, and realising how much I enjoyed it to find that story, the one that made sense, even for characters that were unsympathetic, even for those who were evil.

Then I honed it further. I have applied for A LOT of jobs in my life. In my head now, I'm imagining more than 30, it might be even more. I have re-purposed myself as someone who people should employ in Finance, in arts leadership, in HR, in learning and development, as a coach. And within each of those categories I have strived to find the way to make my story, my CV, make sense, be coherent, so that of course they could hire me for this job. Sometimes it has worked, sometimes it hasn't, but the stories have (mostly) been good.

And now I do it for my clients, who don't know how to talk about themselves, or don't know how to reach out to their own clients in a way that feels genuine and not icky, or don't know how to contact someone who inspires them to ask them for mentorship, or don't know how to speak to their boss about something that is troubling them.

And it feels like a gift, for me and for them, every time I can complete that pattern, every time I can join the dots for them, every time I can find the truth that resonates in this moment.

And, here we are. I have told a story. Does it make sense? Is it coherent? Does it resonate in this moment?

What are your gifts? It feels important that you own them.