Dancing Shoes
I was talking with a colleague the other night about coaching readiness. Those of us who specialize in clients with ADHD would argue that our clients are some of the most coach-able. They thrive on curiosity. They are more resilient than they realize. For me, they are refreshing and live and more than willing to dance.
Establishing trust is key. Coaching is a partnership. In any partnership, we need to trust that our partners are committed to the moment before we can truly dance. There is a rhythm to the coaching process, and it might be a little different for each client.
In the coaching world, we often refer to that sweet spot of movement and energy as “dancing in the moment”. It is best described as that magical moment of push and pull; a flowing conversation; energizing and electric; the “a-ha” moment that opens a floodgate of new perspectives or even calls to action. For many new to coaching, this type of rhetoric may seem out of reach or foreign in the beginning. Those first few moments or sessions with a coach are, in essence, like learning to dance with a new partner.
If I think back to the pre-wedding ballroom dance lessons that I took with my husband, I immediately recall that inner battle I fought to let someone else lead me. To truly let go and follow the flow of the music, the steps, the gentle nudges, and sometimes the missteps. It was, at times, uncomfortable, but when we found our rhythm and flow, it was amazing and joyful and liberating. Eventually, we even created our own routines and rhythms within the comfort of these new steps. We played. We laughed. We discovered new things about one another that were unspoken, intimate, empowering.
In my perfect world, everyone would take partner lessons of this nature in order to fully experience those tugs that exist within human connections. It would have been WAY more fun for me instead of the basketball unit in high school P.E. Partner dancing is a tangible simile for the ebb and flow of a relationship. Remove judgment, as we do in coaching, and replace it with open curiosity, and it takes that dance to a whole new level. You may improvise more, take a path less traveled. John Michael Montgomery sums it up in his song “Life’s a dance.” Sometimes we lead. Sometimes we follow. More importantly, we all learn to dance in the moment. When we stop worrying about exactly where we are leading, we find that flow, and ironically, our direction. Think about all of the places in life where you are the primary director. I invite you to think of opportunities where you can step back and follow someone else’s lead - even for a moment. My middle kid constantly challenges me to let go of the reins these days. As uncomfortable as some of these moments may feel, it is glorious to watch him knock it out of the park. Perhaps this resonates for you in a work setting, friendship, or romantic partnership. In a melting pot of minds, what are the moments where learning a new dance step might happen? What opportunities might it pose? What might you learn about yourself? Others? I challenge each of us to look for those moments. Dance in the moment. The music awaits.