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While catching up recently with two of my wonderful colleagues, one of them asked the other what kinds of new connections she was making since having chosen her fetish. Wow, I thought, what a juicy conversation this was going to be!  Yet quickly I was told that this wasn’t about the kind of fetish I was probably assuming. My friend said she would let me in on a secret, and a few minutes later produced a tray of beautifully carved stone figures in a variety of natural colors. She introduced them as fetishes, and invited me to choose the one that appealed the most to me. Without pondering it too long and hard, I selected the one that clearly stood out to me.  It had beautiful reddish brown and earthy tones. I lifted it up from the tray. It felt cool and smooth in my hands, almost like a calming presence. When I looked at its shape more closely, I exclaimed “oh, I didn’t realize it was a coyote. I hate coyotes!”. Nonetheless, something about the small figurine was captivating and had me in awe. To be clear, I don’t really hate coyotes. They sometimes roam the area where I live. In searching for food, they have a bad rap for snatching small pets from our neighborhood. I have a beloved cat that likes to be outdoors — hence my anti coyote attitude. Which now was about to change.

One early morning last year, while out jogging I literally ran into a coyote. I recall the animal looking at me with what I perceived as a mix of unease and curiosity. Maybe a projection of my own state — who knows? I stood very still and silent, and took it all in. Many people tend to label coyotes as mangy and nasty creatures. This one looked perfectly healthy, however — strong, and beautiful. It was one of those “time appearing to stand still” moments. I still remember what I was thinking – that animals sometimes can pick up on the vibes you are giving off.  In this case the vibe I was trying to conjure up was something like “you look beautiful, and I get it that you’re hungry, but please stay away from my kitty.” In reality the vibe I probably was sending out was “yikes, this is a bit scary, should I run or chase you away?” I suppose the coyote didn’t care much. We both stayed calm. Eventually, the coyote turned around and trotted off into the distance. And I continued my morning jog.

But back to the fetish. What my friend shared with me was an assortment of Zuni carvings called fetishes. Each has a specific meaning. I learned that the coyote is the Hunter God of the West (outdoor kitty beware!). It represents laughter, humor and the ability to learn from one’s own foolishness. It is supposed to be a master trickster and characterized by arrogance and a sense of self-importance. It can teach us how our impulsive choices and self-centeredness fail us. Or, in the words of my friend, a reminder to embrace our shadow side.

So that afternoon, after I was gifted the coyote fetish and parted ways with my friends, I was wondering how to make sense of it all. There is plenty to learn from ancient wisdom, and I believe that cultures living in close connection with nature have a lot to teach us.  I had to smile at the fact that I picked up the carving without realizing it was a coyote. The trickster. QED. I have definitely learned a lot from my own foolishness over the years, and I like to think that I love laughter and have a sense of humor. The notion of arrogance and self-importance was much harder to embrace. Nevertheless it resonated with me. Such a great reminder of my intention to live a life of service. The impulsiveness of acting out of self-centeredness may feel right in the moment, yet it can leave a bitter taste pretty quickly. Dedication to a bigger cause, or acting from my creative (vs reactive) self, feels a lot more fulfilling. Thank you trickster coyote for reminding me of that.

A few days later, as I was looking at the carving again, I started searching online for potential other meanings of the coyote fetish: Yes, the coyote is the symbol of the trickster. Life, however, is the real trickster. The coyote understands this. By accepting situations as they are and dealing with the unexpected willingly and eagerly, the coyote survives. Coyotes show us that life is unpredictable and uncontrollable and that unexpected occurrences can be viewed as opportunities, not misfortunes. The coyote’s wisdom teaches us to live in the moment and wonder at it all.

Wow! Just like the coyote I had encountered in real life. I could never have predicted when I would run into a wild animal in my neighborhood. A coyote is something most people probably want to avoid — mangy, nasty, predator, scavenger.  Yet in the moment, while feeling surprised and somewhat uneasy, I could clearly see its beauty and its place in our suburban ecosystem (after all, we’ve encroached too much on its natural habitat). While startled when we both saw each other first, there was no drama, and no complicated mitigating strategy needed. We both stayed (fairly) calm, sussed out the situation, ran off in different directions, and that was it. Sometimes it can be very liberating not to know what’s coming, and trusting that we can deal with it in the moment. But it’s not something we’re wired to do. As one of my friends says, we are all descendants of nervous monkeys; the chilled out primates didn’t survive. It’s not surprising then that it’s hard for us to see unexpected occurrences as opportunities.

No doubt that careful planning and strategizing is important for situations that can be predicted and controlled. Yet embracing the unexpected and co-creating with what’s present and right in front of us, is something we can all practice and learn. It frees up a lot of energy and allows us to be more vital in work, play, and anywhere in between. Thank you again, trickster coyote, for the timely reminder!

Kathrin is an executive coach dedicated to helping leaders wake up from busyness and live with ease. More by and about her on her website.

Photo by Ray Hennessy on Unsplash

In Coaching Circles, we stay away from giving advice because it’s the antithesis of development.

When a group first gets together, we do make some room for it because it serves as a useful point of departure for developing a coaching posture. The advice reflex is so strong and culturally ingrained that no useful interaction would occur without resorting to this form of support. It’s readily accessible and especially rewarding when your bit of advice seems helpful to the person on the receiving end.

But is it really? Even when a person is really stuck and doesn’t know what to do, are we really helping by feeding them an answer? And by that I mean “our” answer—one that has worked for us at a particular place and time with endless other variables at play.

My assessment after over 20 years of leading Coaching Circles is that advice rarely hits the mark. Rather, it puts people on the defensive, generates explanations of what they are already doing and underneath, triggers all kinds of feelings like shame, disappointment and even anger. Advice is a shortcut and at the best of times provides quick relief. It doesn’t build capacity: the capacity to gain understanding or perspective, or to explore the kinds of possibilities that relate to the unique personality dynamics and circumstances at hand. Inquiring into these take time, and time is what we have in Coaching Circles.

In our process, we take time to really understand what is going on for the person we are coaching, evoking reflection, curiosity, and discovery, which then provide a path to action. Without a shift in seeing their own reality, no new possibility can arise. As a group, we build the skills to help others shift through our questions, distinctions and collaborative inquiry. Over time, everyone becomes a better coach, not only to support the development of those in the coaching circle, but those they influence in their organization and communities.

Learn more about Facilitating Coaching Circles.

Charles is NVW senior faculty emeritus, and the founder of Coaching Circles® in Montreal.

Photo by Sunrise King on Unsplash

A while back, I attended a workshop on process and transformation. At one point, I was struggling to explain why I believe creativity is so fundamental to leadership. And then I heard someone use the word “Schöpfung,” (the workshop was taught in German), which loosely translates to “creation” or “invention.” As soon as I heard that word, my thoughts came into focus.

While the loose translation is beautiful – and true! – it doesn’t capture one fundamental element of the verb. Translated literally, “schöpfen” means to ladle or draw from source. Thus, the word includes the idea that all creation comes from somewhere.

Imagine taking your cupped hands and scooping water out of a stream. That water is the source of creation. Creativity is what you do with it. Maybe you’ll drink it, wash your clothes with it, or use it to make soup. The options are endless, and the source is always there for you.

A Models for Effective Leadership

Clients generally seek me out for coaching because they want to be more effective leaders, but they’re not sure how to do it. Often, it turns out that they never had a good model – either during childhood or throughout their careers.

I was fortunate. My granny, Oma Lydia, was my first leadership role model. She would tell me stories about walking miles to exchange pieces of butter for bricks to rebuild her home after the war. I knew that her life had been difficult, and her stories reflected the grit, courage, and determination she needed to survive.

But she also embodied a spirit of initiative, curiosity, empathy, and compassion. She always listened to my thoughts and opinions and never ridiculed my ideas. Instead, she freely shared her wisdom so that I could learn from her and engage in the conversation. Oma Lydia had a strong north star, and she was incredibly creative.

Why Creativity Is Crucial For Leaders

My clients are often surprised by how much focus I put on the creative processes. They tend to think that creativity is the domain of writers, dancers, visual artists, and all those “other people” whose hard work produces tangible results. Creativity, they’ve learned,  is “not for them.” After all, they just want to achieve better results on the job.

What they realize through working with me is that creativity is nothing more than the full expression of an authentic self. And when you can bring that into leadership, you become the source for everyone around you. This is what Oma Lydia was for me and what I am for my coaching clients.

The Benefits of a Creative Approach

Hungarian-American psychologist Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi says that “Creativity is the central source of meaning in our lives.” Here’s how I translate this statement: using your creativity means using all of your senses, emotions, and bodily wisdom to investigate the big questions of existence. For example: Who am I? What do I want? Why am I here? 

Creativity doesn’t answer these fundamental questions outright but instead gives you the meaning, energy, and mental space you need to gain clarity. The answers emerge from there. When the process is working, it can feel like distraction or even procrastination, but it’s not.

Through the creative process, you give your thinking mind a break and allow your emotions, beliefs, and unconscious worries to become tangible. It’s so much easier to study, understand and learn from something you can hold in your hand.

The best part? You don’t need to learn how to be creative. The power is in you from birth. Sometimes, you just need to dig a bit to get to the water. And often, a little help can go a long way.

Nicole is a creative leadership coach and speaker who empowers women to transform limiting beliefs and bring their lives and careers to new heights.

Photo by Steve Johnson on Unsplash

This article was original published on the Mindful Leader Blog in June 2021.

In Integral Coaching we often talk about the three centers of intelligence: head, heart, and body.  Useful across all areas of coaching, they are particularly interesting to explore in the realm of speaking and listening.

Recently, I had the opportunity to spend several days with a group of highly experienced Integral Coaches, observing how they interacted with each other as they explored issues that were both deeply personal and globally impactful. And in such a skillfully held and spacious environment, I was extra aware of my own ways of speaking and listening from the three centers. Here is some of what I noticed.

Head, heart, and body conversations

Head

Often when we’re speaking from our head, or rational mind, we’ve put some thought into what we’re going to say. Obviously this isn’t a bad thing—there are plenty of instances when that is very appropriate and necessary. However, in a conversation that is intended to be reflective or supportive, what is arising freshly in the moment is often more helpful—and that comes from some place other than the head.

For example, I noticed several times that I was bringing stories about my life that, while they seemed relevant to the topic at hand, nonetheless contained very little ‘juice’ or aliveness. The words felt hollow, and I noticed the listeners (mindful and attentive and loving as they are) become a little detached. Once or twice I even wrote down what I wanted to say to ensure that I was being clear, but by the time I spoke the words there was something else in me that had been moved by what others said, evoked a different memory, or just wasn’t as current as it could have been. In retrospect I see that those would have been moments to trust my body and simply say what was there to say.

Heart

In a group of trusted friends and colleagues, there were moments of big emotion as people recalled things about their pasts, regretting blindness and missteps, enraged over injustice, or feeling near overwhelming amounts of love for others in the group. By and large the listeners were still and steady, spaciously receiving the speaker’s words and not reacting… but not always.

There is a big difference between maintaining a steady presence and stifling our emotions. Naturally, being human, we will simply be moved sometimes and laugh or cry right along with our friend or even our client. It can be supportive and healing for the speaker to feel known in this way. Far from a departure from presence, it can actually point to just how present and connected we are.

However, it isn’t supportive if we get swept up in the other person's experience entirely. So even if we are moved by the person speaking and have a very human, emotional response of our own, it is essential we come back to ourselves ultimately. Our bodies are reliable anchors to return to our own selves, our own experience, our own ground.

Body

Notice the vital role that the body played (or would have played, with more trust) in the examples above. It is the body that signals the difference between empty words and ones infused with meaning. Anchored in our physicality, we can be more fully impacted by something another says, which may in turn shape what we say—something, perhaps, that is truer to the moment. It allows us to be attuned to the mood and energy of a group, so that what we speak into the space has relevance and impact. It is the place of our own grounding and solidity, through which we can source the capacity to hold another’s big emotions. And lots more.

Integral speaking and listening aren’t any one thing: we don’t flip a switch and suddenly we’re in integral mode. As with everything in this work, it is about cultivating a way of being that allows us to bring more of ourselves forward in all conversations—and in all of life. We have found that focusing on the body is a relatively fail-safe way to begin this cultivation. It’s an area that offers infinite room for deepening development.

A meditation for cultivating embodiment

For two weeks, augment your sitting practice by doing the following. Imagine a silver ball, somewhere between the size of a marble and a tennis ball (see what fits best), nestled in the space right behind your belly button, halfway between front and back. Feel its weight, solidity, and texture. For this period of time, allow this point of awareness to replace your usual one (mantra, breath, sensation). When your attention wanders, come back to the ball. Focusing our attention on our physical center of gravity can gently train our attention on our embodiment.

Other resources

• Leadership Embodiment by Wendy Palmer and Bodyfulness by Christine Caldwell are two wonderful books on integrating body awareness into our lives, development and work with others.
• Join us at the Free Integral Coaching Forum to practice integral speaking and listening with your peers, guided by NVW faculty. These events are designed to support you in gaining clarity in your life and give you ways of supporting others more powerfully.
• Sign up for a 5-week mini-course on the Three Centers, which offers examples, practices and resources to further acquaint you with this way of working.

Joy Reichart is the Communications Director of New Ventures West.

Photo by Paul Cuoco on Unsplash