When someone says, “it’s personal”, they usually mean that they don’t want to talk about that it.
It’s often used as a replacement for, “none of your business”, or “leave me alone”.
So, let’s say what we mean.
Almost everything we talk about is personal. Most humans talk about their own thoughts & feelings more than anything else.
No more using “it’s personal” as an excuse. Be precise with your language.
What are the “rules” of coaching?
Do you need to have a handbook? A playbook?
A set of 4-10 pillars that you stand by/live by/teach by?
Is player buy-in the most important thing?
What about “knowing yourself”?
Are you allowed to change your mind? Do you have to change your mind?
You do know that there are secrets out there that only a few have access to, right?
Some of any of these things is probably a good thing…and the wrong ones only invite you to keep working on being better. Isn’t that what we ask our players to do?
No wrong answer. No right answer. I’m just going to keep asking questions.
The English word COACH is deemed to have been derived from the coach that was pulled by horses decades ago. The town in Hungary that is credited with this invention was called Kocs.
So, the word as we use it in sports and other types of coaching is a metaphor for getting things or people from one place to another. This is the job of a coach.
There are skills involved, mostly really, really human skills like listening, planning, caring, listening (yes, again) and figuring out how to get people to work to make themselves a more highly functioning person, either on their own or in a group/team setting.
Those skills are often overlooked when considered alongside knowledge sets like “knowing the game”, strategy and sport tactics. This second group of things is important, but without the first it’s challenging to really grow people to help make the world a better place.
How will you move people along?
“Warts and all”, is a phrase we use to mean that we accept the failings and the shortcomings of those we love or appreciate, or, perhaps, need.
We don’t typically, however, use this phrase when we talk about ourselves. The “warts” that we know we have (how did warts get such a bad name anyway?) somehow don’t even make it to the front of the stage to get mention when we’re talking our us…or me, or myself.
It’s challenging to look for faults in ourselves. If we knew of them we would have fixed them! Or, would we? Maybe it’s acceptance that takes the place of introspection or deliberation of such faults.
Make time, front of your mind time, to examine the “warts” in your world, to look at the ways you fall short or are lacking.
As we look at our own pains or the holes in our game we may realize that they are either not so bad, or easier to fix than we thought. Either way, it’s liberating in a way to admit to these things, to say, “yes, I could/should/might be better in these ways.”
As a raging extrovert, I get sad and tired when I’m alone for too long.
It’s a status that some have a hard time understanding, and I have to work to get it when people say that they are overwhelmed with the act of being social.
There is no right nor wrong here, and working to understand what you need and celebrate that is a key to happiness.
Creating a team of people who share culture, language and a common lens, as well as goals, is easier when you realize that it’s not about the “kind of person” that’s a fit.
The kind of person a good team needs is the kind that commits to the culture, language and goals.
Simple, not easy.
Your job, my job, our job in the world is to add value to others.
Think about what you have to offer and offer it.
See what happens.
It’s not what you think.
Selma, Alabama has a ton of history. It did before 1965 and those who live there today continue to make their own history.
I spent 15 hours there this August and was impacted tremendously.
Walking the downtown streets on a rainy Saturday evening it felt sadness coming from the earth. Such important things had happened in this small city, and I could feel both the pride and the frustration from the very few locals I encountered.
The biggest lesson was not about Selma, Alabama, the South or any part of it’s history but about me. My conceptions of what I was like, what that part of our country (as a New Englander it was hard to feel as if I was even in our country) was like, the experiences of others…wow, what a selfish experience I’ve had.
Time to get out more.