An exploration of key mirror moments that have helped shape my craft.
There’s a moment in almost every workshop, coaching session, or curriculum sprint where the mirror appears. Sometimes it sneaks up on me, and other times I see it coming from a mile away. In these moments I realize I’m not the only one guiding. In fact, I’m being guided by my client! Consulting, at its best, is a two-way reflection which leaves me a little more self-aware after each engagement. Becoming aware of when the client is holding up a mirror has helped me make vital improvements to my client approach.
Here are three mirror moments that have been instrumental to me:
I was meeting with a group of directors in a midsize company when I decided to ask them a question that elicited an unusual response. “What do you think your team says about you when you’re not in the room?” Given most people in positions of leadership are used to giving quick answers, the unusual response I received was complete silence for a full 18 seconds. During that pause, instead of witnessing exasperation or perplexed facial expressions, I saw a collective recalibration. Each of their body languages told me a story about them. It told me that they cared about the views of their team when they are not in the room, which was the first thing I pointed out after ending the prolonged silence.
It was during that silent moment that I realized something important about myself. I tend to rush through the silence when it can actually be a gold mine for progress. I like to fill space with insights, humor, or metaphors to build the momentum of the room. But sometimes, the most powerful move to make is to wait.
After this experience, I started building intentional pauses into my sessions. I don’t do this to cause a feeling of dead air or discomfort, but instead to create a psychologically safe space for processing and digesting. What I’ve noticed since employing this method is that meaningful transformation doesn’t always need a soundtrack. It can quite often be found in silence.
There was a stretch last year when I was deeply entrenched in an “optimize everything” mindset. Every client engagement, research study, or teaching session felt like a sprint toward the finish line. I was incredibly efficient, strategic, and seamlessly managing many tasks at one time.
It was one day during a 1:1 session with a client when they were telling me about an issue they were currently having, but I thought to myself, “I thought we had already addressed this.” In my mind, I had checked that issue off our list and was pressing full steam ahead to other problems for us to solve. The client lovingly said to me, “I feel like I am still focused on this issue while you’re solving problems that don’t exist yet.”
Oof.
It took that sobering comment to slow me down and refocus upon the current issue at hand. Afterwards, I conducted a structured self-reflection that evening. I realized I was projecting my own sense of urgency- my own hunger for resolution- onto someone else’s delicate and complex process. I wasn’t actively listening (which is a skill I often teach clients about. Yikes!). Instead of actively listening, I was actively anticipating. What I learned is that while anticipation can be a gift, the old adage “too much of a good thing” applies to this skill. Sometimes, actively anticipating when we should be grounded in the moment can create a barrier between us and the people we are trying to help!
Since that situation, I have been cognizant about practicing presence instead of projection. I ask fewer leading questions and more open-ended questions. I let discomfort linger (leveraging the power of the pause). I trust that not every knot needs to be untangled in the first 45 minutes of discovery. The biggest takeaway for me is when you slow down and attend to the present moment with someone else, regardless of which problems may be ahead, that is when the most powerful breakthroughs happen.
I have taken the Values in Action (VIA) Values Assessment several times in my career, and each time there is one signature value at the top of my list: humor. Throughout my work with clients and students, I have learned to incorporate this strength into each engagement thoughtfully and with care. I like to say I use my sense of humor like a scalpel, not a sword. Humor disarms, reframes, and sometimes reveals what asking a direct question cannot. Since it is something I tend to lead with when facilitating interactive discussions, I have become accustomed to examining exactly how best to utilize this natural reflex.
Like many lessons that people learn, using my humor appropriately did not simply come to me, it was a lesson learned the hard way. There is one instance that I still cringe about. I cracked a joke about executive coaching being the same as “client therapy.” When I didn’t hear any chuckles, and the room appeared to be frozen, I realized there was an undercurrent in the room to which I had not been privy. Turns out, one of the participants had just come from a deeply emotional coaching session that the other participants knew about, and nobody was ready to laugh about it.
While I was able to pivot at that moment and fall on my sword (I realize now it is much easier to fall on a scalpel), it taught me an important lesson. Humor is powerful, but it’s not universal. It needs calibration, context, and consent. Now I treat my sense of humor like seasoning. Some dishes require a lot to enhance the flavor, and sometimes we just need a sprinkle so that it does not mask the substance.
Every client is a mirror. They reflect back my habits, my blind spots, and my growth opportunities. While my goal is always to show up and serve, I often leave humbled, expanded, and, if I’m lucky, a little more human. So, here’s to the pause, the presence, and the punchline. May we keep learning from the reflections that surprise us most!