On Being Unprepared

“Forget your perfect offering. There is a crack, a crack in everything. That's how the light gets in.” - Leonard Cohen “Come as you are.“ - Nirvana People who know me well will know that preparation is not one of my strengths. I’m much more likely to try and wing it, then to follow a script - it’s not always a good thing; my lack of preparation can cause me to panic or to fluster when I realise that I don’t have an answer to a question asked by a student or workshop participant. But my ADHD brain just can’t do it, no matter how much I’ve tried. But it’s not always a bad thing, either. I’ve been having some conversations with colleagues about designing some coach-training workshops and courses, and inevitably the subject of preparation comes up. Recently, in one of those conversations, I was advocating for being unprepared, and how that might be of value both for the workshop itself, but also as a metaphor for how we might approach coaching work. Maybe being unprepared is not always something to be fixed or corrected, but could actually be an asset. I’ve always liked this quote from Wilfred Bion, the group analyst: “The first point is for the analyst to impose on himself a positive discipline of eschewing memory and desire. I do not mean that ‘forgetting’ is enough: what is required is a positive act of refraining from memory and desire.” There is a paradox here, of course. It’s not really about failing to prepare; it’s about not being governed by what we already think we know, or by what we want to happen. I do, and we do need to, care about the work we do, and work to create a sacred space for coaching. Coaches will often speak about the importance of preparing for coaching sessions by, for example, reviewing client notes, reflecting on previous sessions, taking a few moments to recentre before the conversation begins. And, of course these practices can help to ground us as we get ready for the conversations with our clients. But, at the same time, that preparedness can get in the way of being in the moment. When I deliver coach-training sessions, I’m often asked questions about what to do if a client says x or presents y issue — as though there were a correct response for every scenario. Similarly, newer coaches often ask for a list of “powerful questions” that they can use in coaching conversations. Beneath these questions is a desire for certainty or a need to know what to do if things go ‘wrong’ when we make an intervention and the client responds differently to how we expected. Although the need for certainty and knowing what to do next is understandable, it’s a bit like trying to date and relying on great chat-up lines! And of course you can find chat up lines and powerful questions (and what to say when a client says x ) on Chat GPT! And, as this article shows, people are using Chat GPT to help them carry on conversations in dating apps, with all-too-predictable results if and when an actual date happens! In both dating and coaching, that desire for certainty takes us away from being present with the other. If I go into a session (or a date!) already ‘knowing’ how to respond or what intervention to make next, I am not really with the person in front of me, but rather I am attached to how I think things should unfold, rather than open to how they actually are unfolding. The reality of coaching — or indeed, of any meaningful relationship — is that the road will sometimes be bumpy. There will be moments when neither party knows where the conversation is going. Part of our responsibility as coaches, I think, is not to eliminate that uncertainty but to bear it, and to contain our own anxiety about it. When we cannot tolerate the discomfort of not knowing, we are tempted to rush toward solutions, interpretations, or advice. The bumpiness becomes something to fix rather than something to stay with. We can make a distinction here between expertise and mastery. The expert wants to find the answer as quickly as possible. The master, on the other hand, wants to stay in not knowing as long as possible. In that space, there is room for something fresh to emerge — something that the coach could not have predicted or designed in advance. There’s another dimension to this. I often hear coaches talking about the need to be centred and resourced in order to work effectively, and of course this is a good aspiration to have. At the same time, I frequently hear coaches wondering how to manage their state if they are going through a difficult time, or if they haven’t slept well. When I started coaching, there was a lot of pressure on coaches to be ‘coachlike’ at all times, and I’ve heard many coaches feel that they can’t really be a good coach, because their lives aren’t perfect. But what if, instead of asking how to fix or manage our ‘imperfect’ states, we became curious about what they might make available? If I am feeling sad, for example, that might make my coaching more tender. If I am tired, then maybe I am less defended and less polished. And, of course, the more we accept our imperfect humanity, the more able we are to hold space for our clients to show up as they are – and heaven knows, all of us are under so much pressure to be at our best in most areas of our lives. Coaching is, for many people, the one place they can go where they are able to connect to their real, messy and imperfect, selves, and speak honestly about their struggles in life. And, we can only be a space for them to do that, when we are willing and able to be who we are, without having to be sorted or always in a good place. These strands of unpreparedness can lead to us being more present in the moment with our clients. And it can also take the pressure off. In one of my recent supervision sessions, a coach was talking about a very senior client and how she felt a strong need to prepare by reading and rereading her notes, and the heaviness she felt in the days before each coaching session with her. In our conversation, we explored how she might approach this differently to ease that sense of pressure and eventually she came up with the idea of watching her favourite comedy show before she next met the client. A few days later, she emailed me to report that she had gone into her meeting with the client feeling so much lighter and that she was able to be more present and work more deeply with her client. And, as a final - meta - note, I often use Chat GPT to help me organise my thoughts when I’m writing. I tried it with this piece, but whilst the result might have been more polished, it wasn’t my voice any more. So I decided to go with the raw unpolished version. Make of that what you will. Reflections How might your preparation get in the way of your being authentically present with your clients? What might unpreparation look like for you?