Coaching With Me

You might have a big decision to make, be navigating a change, wondering what comes next, or simply have something you keep thinking about.

You do not need to have worked out exactly what the problem is, what you want to change or even what you want from coaching.

Big, small, important, ridiculous. If it is taking up space in your head, it is important enough.

Why have a former barrister help you figure it out?

Good question.

Is it mandatory for your coach to have spent years in a profession where nights, weekends and carefully made plans had a habit of becoming negotiable while people were trying to deal with problems that had become way too complex for anyone’s liking?

I do not think so. But it does have its uses.

I know what it is to care deeply about your work. To work unsocial hours. To make trade-offs. To succeed at something difficult — and still have to ask whether the price is one you want to keep paying.

My years at the Bar taught me many things. One of the most important was that there is no such thing as perfect work-life balance. Instead, there are priorities, trade-offs and a bunch of choices.

The key is knowing what matters the most to you — and making choices that unapologetically remain true to that.

Your version of success may not look like somebody else’s.

The good news is: it doesn’t have to.

The Bar also taught me to analyse like there is no tomorrow — and to meet people where they are.

I have spent much of my working life around clever, accomplished and occasionally formidable people.

You do not need to perform competence in the coaching room.

I can meet the lawyer, leader or senior professional in you. I can also meet the person underneath the job title.

Both matter.

How I Coach?

I do not tell my clients what to do. Generally, I am not keen on the idea of an adult being told how to live their life — by anyone (unless it’s law enforcement).

My job is to help you think — properly.

That means listening closely, asking questions, noticing what does not quite fit, challenging assumptions when they need challenging and helping you look at the situation from angles you may not have considered.

Before we solve the problem, let’s make sure we’re solving the right one.

My clients tend to be intelligent, capable professionals. They analyse. They weigh things up. By the time they come to coaching, they have usually spent a considerable amount of time thinking about what is happening and what they ought to do about it.

But being very good at thinking does not necessarily protect us from our own assumptions.

Sometimes it simply makes us better at defending them.

You may arrive wanting to become better at switching off, only to discover that the more helpful question is why you feel permanently exhausted in the first place.

You may want more confidence when the more interesting question is why you have decided you need permission to take up space in a room you already belong in.

Or you may know exactly what the problem is.

Either way, we start with the ‘what?'

I listen for what does not quite fit

Sometimes what you say and how you say it are telling two different stories. And you might be surprised by what becomes visible when someone shines a light on the tension between the two.

I am not there to offer you my conclusions. I am there to notice what may be difficult to see when you are standing in the middle of it, put it back into the conversation and give you the opportunity to look at it.

What if nothing changes?

My interest in philosophy inevitably finds its way into my coaching, and one idea in particular runs through much of my work.

When we contemplate change, we tend to examine the risks rather carefully.

Leave the profession and you might lose income, status or security. Say what you actually think and you might disrupt a relationship. Change the way you lead and you may feel vulnerable and exposed — what if they don’t accept the new version of you?

So we analyse, predict and worry. We construct a fairly detailed picture of everything that might go wrong.

But how often do we subject the alternative — the “nothing changes” scenario — to the same level of scrutiny?

What does another five years in the same job cost you? What does never having the conversation cost the relationship? What are you already paying for things to remain exactly as they are?

Sometimes “What is it costing me not to?” is rather helpful in evaluating the options.

And this is not a question I ask only from the comfort of the coach’s chair.

READ MY STORY →

I try to keep the whole equation in sight — including the cost you are already paying.

And then: now what?

Understanding what is happening is only part of the work. Then we do something with it.

What happens tomorrow? Next week? In two weeks? What needs to change?

There is strategy, action and accountability.

Insight matters. But eventually, something has to happen outside the coaching room.

Direct and on your side

I will challenge you, but not judge you.

If something difficult comes into the room, we do not have to tidy it up. Anger, fear, frustration, uncertainty or a realisation you were not expecting can stay.

My manner is fairly direct. More than fifteen years in Britain have added a dose of dry humour to the pre-existing culturally inherited temperament.

But I am never detached.

I care enormously about the work I do, and I become genuinely invested in the people I work with and the changes they are trying to make.

So expect questions. Expect strategy. Expect action.

And throughout it all, expect someone firmly in your corner.