Tag: leading in practice

  • Finding a New Professional Home

    Finding a New Professional Home

    I’ve spoken before about the unexpected feelings I experienced earlier this year after cancelling my nursing registration.

    After more than 20 years in nursing, it wasn’t about no longer paying an annual fee or removing my name from a register. Nursing had been such a significant part of my identity for so long that letting it go left me feeling a little bereft.

    I don’t regret the decision. My career has taken me in a different direction and I knew it was the right time.

    But it did make me realise that there’s real value in belonging to a professional community.

    Finding the right fit

    As my coaching journey has developed over the past year, I knew I wanted to become part of a professional body that reflected the way I want to practise.

    There are several excellent coaching organisations, each with their own strengths. After spending some time looking into them, I chose the European Mentoring and Coaching Council (EMCC).

    What drew me to the EMCC wasn’t just coaching.

    It was coaching and mentoring.

    The more I coach, the more I’ve come to appreciate that leadership development rarely sits neatly at one end of the spectrum. Sometimes people need the space to think their own way through a challenge. Sometimes they benefit from drawing on the experience and perspective of someone who’s been there or walked a similar path.

    Being able to move thoughtfully between coaching and mentoring, whilst being clear about which approach I’m taking and why, has become an important part of my own practice.

    That philosophy felt like a natural fit with the EMCC.

    Learning never stops

    Joining the EMCC has already been really beneficial beyond membership.

    I’ve attended webinars through both EMCC Scotland and EMCC UK, connected with other coaches and mentors, and continued to build my knowledge through ongoing professional development. I actually met someone on one of those calls who invited me on to her podcast which was really nice.

    One of the things I enjoy most about coaching is recognising that there is always something new to learn.

    Every coaching conversation is different and everyone brings different experiences.

    It’s definitely keeping my brain active!

    Accreditation

    Following my ILM Level 7 Diploma for Executive and Senior Level Coaches and Mentors, I was keen to pursue professional accreditation.

    Receiving the diploma demonstrated that I’d successfully completed the qualification.

    Accreditation felt like an important next step for me.

    For me, it represents a commitment to practising ethically, continuing to develop professionally and holding myself accountable to recognised standards.

    There are four levels of accreditation with EMCC Global and because my qualification aligns with the framework, I was able to apply for the third level – Senior Practitioner . It was reassuring to see that my years of leadership, supervision, mentoring and coaching experience were recognised alongside the formal qualification. The fourth and final level is Master Practitioner so who knows what the future might hold!

    I did discover, slightly too late, that I’d completed considerably more paperwork than I actually needed to…

    Typical.

    Still, I’d rather be over-prepared than under-prepared.

    The accreditation team were incredibly helpful throughout the process and it wasn’t long before I received the news that my application had been successful.

    What it means to me

    Receiving my accreditation isn’t the end of anything.

    If anything, it feels like another beginning.

    Just as my nursing registration represented a commitment to lifelong learning and professional standards, my EMCC accreditation feels like the next part of that journey.

    It gives people confidence that I’m committed to coaching ethically, engaging in regular supervision, maintaining my professional development and continually reflecting on my own practice.

    Those are things that really matter to me. Not because they’re requirements, but because they represent the kind of coach I want to be.

    Looking ahead

    Alongside receiving my accreditation, I’ve also been putting the finishing touches to my coaching website.

    The professional photographs are now in place (I’m pleased to report I’ve finally managed to look like someone who’s approachable rather than investigating a crime scene) and I’ve added more information about my coaching programmes and how people can work with me.

    Looking back over the past year, quite a lot has changed.

    From completing my coaching qualification, introducing coaching within my organisation, establishing Leading in Practice Coaching and Consultancy Ltd, and now achieving EMCC Senior Practitioner accreditation.

    Each step has reinforced something I’ve believed for a long time.

    Leadership is never finished. Neither is learning.

    Onwards we go, from registered nurse to accredited coach!

  • Taking the Next Step

    Taking the Next Step

    I’ve had a couple of exciting coaching milestones over the past few weeks.

    A qualification was only the beginning

    Last month I got the news that I’d successfully passed the ILM Level 7 Diploma in Executive and Senior Level Coaching and Mentoring. A few days ago my certificate arrived which meant I could finally submit my accreditation application to the European Mentoring and Coaching Council (EMCC). I’ll share more about that once I’ve heard the outcome.

    Meanwhile, coaching has become a regular part of my role within the organisation I lead. I’m continuing to coach colleagues from across the staff team and it’s something I genuinely look forward to each week. Having the opportunity to create space for people to think, reflect and develop is a real privilege, and I’ve seen first-hand the difference coaching can make to confidence, leadership and the way people approach challenges.

    One of the things I’ve come to realise after completing the qualification is that I’m keen to continue developing my coaching beyond my own organisation. The more people I’ve coached, the more I’ve realised that coaching is a skill that can only be fine tuned the more you do it. Every conversation teaches me something new and every client brings a different perspective.

    Taking the next step

    With that in mind, I recently shared a Declaration of Interest with my Board outlining my intention to establish a small external coaching practice alongside my role as CEO. It was important to me that this was done openly and transparently, and that the Board were comfortable there would be no conflict with my existing role or impact on the organisation.

    I’m pleased to say that Leading in Practice Coaching and Consultancy Ltd is now officially registered.

    Learning a different side of business

    I have to admit, it’s been quite enjoyable learning about an entirely different side of running a business. Whilst I have experience of leading a charity and all that comes with that, setting up a company has brought its own learning curve. Corporation tax, business banking, allowable expenses, Companies House… it’s a whole thing.

    I’ve explored what Business Gateway offers, attended one of their excellent ‘Meet the Expert’ sessions with an accountant (armed with a list of questions that was probably longer than his agenda) and gradually worked my way through everything I needed to understand. For now, my practice will be small enough that I’m going to manage my own accounts and bookkeeping. I actually quite enjoy understanding how these things work before deciding whether I need additional systems or support.

    Starting small, intentionally

    One thing I have been really conscious of throughout this process is protecting the work-life balance I’ve worked so hard to create.

    It’s easy, particularly when you’ve found something you’re genuinely passionate about, to convince yourself that because it doesn’t feel like work you can just keep doing more and more.

    I’ve been there before.

    During the early years of my career, I probably threw myself into work a little too enthusiastically and eventually had to have a word with myself.

    I don’t want to repeat that pattern.

    So this coaching practice will begin exactly as I’d hoped it would: intentionally.

    I’ll be working with a very small number of executive and senior leaders, completely outside my working hours as CEO. That feels like the right balance. It allows me to continue developing as a coach whilst protecting the time and energy that’s equally important to me.

    Building Leading in Practice

    In the background, I’ve also been putting together my website pages, refining my coaching programmes and thinking carefully about how I want people to experience Leading in Practice.

    One of the more enjoyable jobs was organising a professional photo shoot. I never thought I’d say that but I guess when you find a photographer who is brilliant and completely puts you at ease you have a very different experience.

    Most people know me through my work in drugs policy, which understandably doesn’t lend itself to many smiling photographs. Much of what I speak about publicly involves preventable deaths, stigma and the human impact of policy decisions.

    Hugely important conversations.

    But only one part of who I am.

    I wanted these photographs to capture the other side of me too.

    The person who’s always happy to talk.

    Who believes some of the best conversations happen over a cup of tea.

    Who loves being outdoors and spending time in the garden.

    The dog also made a surprise appearance. Whether those photographs ever see the light of day remains to be seen!

    A new chapter

    This feels like the beginning of another chapter.

    Not because I’ve suddenly become a qualified coach – coaching has been part of how I’ve led for a long time – but because I’m now creating the space to develop that part of my professional life with the same care and intention I’ve tried to bring to everything else.

    I’m excited to see where it leads.

  • The Stories We Tell Ourselves

    The Stories We Tell Ourselves

    One of the things I’ve noticed comes up time and time again in coaching is something we all do.

    Mind reading.

    Not in the psychic sense or with a crystal ball, obviously, but in the way we convince ourselves we know exactly what someone else is thinking.

    It’s surprisingly common.

    Someone doesn’t reply to an email.

    They look a bit distracted in a meeting.

    They don’t smile when they pass us in the corridor.

    They ask us a challenging question.

    And straight away, our brains start filling in the gaps.

    “They’re annoyed with me.”

    “They think I did a bad job.”

    “I’ve upset them.”

    “They don’t value my opinion.”

    “I can’t possibly bring that issue up because they’ll react badly.”

    The interesting thing is that, most of the time, we have absolutely no evidence that any of those things are true.

    We’ve simply created a story in our own minds.

    The stories become our reality

    I’ve seen this throughout my career – in nursing, leadership and now increasingly in coaching.

    What I find fascinating isn’t that we tell ourselves these stories.

    It’s what happens next.

    We start behaving as though they’re true.

    We avoid conversations.

    We stop asking for feedback.

    We don’t apply for opportunities.

    We become more guarded in relationships.

    We decide someone is difficult to work with before we’ve really explored whether that’s actually the case.

    Sometimes we even stop collaborating altogether because we’ve convinced ourselves we already know how the other person will respond.

    It’s amazing how quickly assumptions can become barriers.

    “I don’t like conflict”

    One phrase I hear quite a lot is:

    “I don’t like conflict.”

    Like really, does anyone truly? I’m not convinced many people genuinely do.

    I’m not sure many people end their day thinking, “That argument was so good. I really enjoyed that.”

    I reckon most of us would much rather have peaceful, constructive relationships.

    So perhaps it isn’t conflict that we’re avoiding.

    Perhaps we’re avoiding what we imagine the conflict will feel like.

    Here comes the mind reading again.

    “They’ll get defensive.”

    “They’ll be angry.”

    “They won’t understand.”

    “They’ll think less of me.”

    And because we’ve already decided how the conversation is going to end, we never give it the chance to begin.

    Checking the story

    I’ve become much better at noticing myself doing this.

    It still happens.

    I’ll occasionally find myself thinking, “They seems a bit different with me,” or, “Have I done something wrong?”

    Years ago, I probably would’ve carried that around for days.

    These days, I’ll usually ask.

    I’ll suggest having a chat.

    I’ll explain what I’ve noticed.

    Sometimes I’m completely wrong.

    Sometimes there is something we need to work through.

    Either way, I would much rather replace assumptions with understanding.

    Those conversations have almost always strengthened relationships rather than damaged them.

    Coaching ourselves

    A part of coaching I’ve really enjoyed developing is cognitive behavioural coaching.

    One of the models I regularly use is the ABCDE framework.

    We start with the activating event.

    What actually happened? What was the trigger?

    Then we explore the beliefs that followed.

    Not the facts.

    The story we’ve created.

    We then look at the consequences of holding onto those beliefs.

    How are they influencing our behaviour?

    What opportunities are they preventing?

    Which relationships are they affecting?

    Only then do we begin to challenge those beliefs.

    What evidence do we actually have?

    Are there alternative explanations?

    Is this belief helping us move forward?

    Or is it simply keeping us stuck?

    Finally, we replace that belief with something that’s more balanced and more helpful.

    There’s been many a time when people have started a coaching conversation by saying, “I know this sounds ridiculous…”

    More often than not, it doesn’t.

    It simply sounds human.

    My role isn’t to judge the story they’ve been telling themselves or to tell them they’re wrong. It’s to create a space where we can explore it together, understand where it came from and consider whether it’s helping them move forward. If it isn’t, we work together to find a way of thinking that’s more balanced, more constructive and ultimately more helpful.

    What I love about this process is that people often reach the conclusion themselves. Simply saying the words out loud creates enough distance for them to recognise that the story they’ve been telling themselves might not be the only version of events.

    Becoming your own coach

    One of the unexpected things coaching has given me is the ability to coach myself.

    Not perfectly – I still catch myself mind reading from time to time – but much more quickly than I used to.

    Now, when I notice myself becoming triggered by something, I’ll often stop and ask myself a few questions.

    What actually happened?

    What assumptions am I making?

    What evidence do I have?

    Is this helping me?

    Is there another explanation that could be equally true?

    That little pause often changes everything.

    We rarely know what someone else is thinking

    The older I get, the more I realise how much unnecessary energy we waste trying to guess what’s going on in other people’s minds.

    Sometimes we’re right.

    Often we’re not.

    But either way, assumptions rarely strengthen relationships.

    Curiosity does.

    Honest conversations do.

    Checking in does.

    So the next time you find yourself convinced you know what someone else is thinking…

    Just take a minute.

    You might just be reading a story that only exists in your own mind.

  • Collaboration is a Choice

    Collaboration is a Choice

    If you follow me on LinkedIn, you may have seen a post I shared recently after spending a morning with women leaders from across Scotland’s drug and alcohol sector.

    It was one of those meetings that leaves you feeling energised. Not because we’d solved every challenge in a couple of hours, but because there was a genuine willingness to understand each other’s priorities, explore opportunities to work together and think about how, collectively, we can improve outcomes for the people and communities we all serve.

    When I sat down to write this week’s blog, I realised collaboration has been one of the recurring themes throughout my career. It also sent me down a bit of a rabbit hole thinking about the different leadership styles I’ve experienced over the years and how they’ve shaped my own views.

    I’ve come to realise something quite simple.

    Collaboration isn’t a strategy.

    It’s a leadership choice.

    Not all collaboration is good collaboration

    We often talk about collaboration as though it’s automatically a positive thing.

    I’m not convinced that’s always true.

    I’ve seen collaborations that existed only because funding criteria required organisations to work together.

    On paper, they looked impressive.

    In reality, people were attending meetings because they had to rather than because they genuinely believed they could achieve more together.

    Relationships built on obligation rarely create lasting change.

    Authentic collaboration can’t be forced.

    It comes from a shared purpose, mutual respect and a genuine belief that working together will achieve something none of us could achieve alone.

    Sometimes the right decision is to collaborate.

    Sometimes it isn’t.

    And that’s okay too.

    It starts at home

    When we think about collaboration, we often picture organisations working together.

    But I think it starts much closer to home.

    Even within relatively small organisations, it’s easy for teams and departments to become siloed.

    People become passionate about their own projects.

    They naturally become protective of their work.

    Sometimes we hear phrases like, ‘That’s my area,’ or, ‘I’ll deal with that.’

    Whilst expertise is important, so is creating opportunities for people to contribute beyond their own remit.

    Some of the best ideas emerge when people with different perspectives come together.

    If we’re not collaborating with colleagues internally, it’s difficult to expect meaningful collaboration externally.

    Confidence, not competition

    I’ve worked with leaders who actively discouraged staff from engaging with other organisations.

    Perhaps they were worried about funding.

    Perhaps they feared judgement.

    Perhaps they didn’t want ideas being shared elsewhere.

    Looking back, I understand some of those concerns.

    The systems we work within don’t always reward collaboration.

    Competition for funding is real.

    Resources are limited.

    Organisations naturally want to protect their future.

    But I’ve also noticed something else.

    The organisations most willing to collaborate are often the ones most confident in who they are.

    They’re comfortable recommending another organisation when it’s the better fit.

    They’re happy to share learning.

    They’re generous with introductions.

    Not because they’re naïve.

    Because they’re secure enough to know that collaboration strengthens rather than weakens them.

    Letting go of ownership

    I’ve also found myself reflecting on something more personal.

    As leaders, it’s easy to become attached to pieces of work we’ve helped develop.

    We naturally feel proud when we’ve invested time, energy and emotion into making something happen.

    There are initiatives I’ve played an important role in over the years that continue to evolve today.

    Do I expect my name to be mentioned every time they’re discussed?

    No.

    I know the contribution I made.

    That’s enough.

    Perhaps confidence in leadership also means becoming comfortable with making an impact without needing continual recognition.

    That isn’t to say acknowledgement doesn’t matter.

    It absolutely does.

    One of the easiest things we can do as leaders is celebrate other people’s successes.

    Shine a light on great work.

    Recommend colleagues.

    Publicly recognise contributions.

    Being generous with credit costs us nothing.

    In fact, it usually strengthens relationships rather than diminishes them.

    Purpose before ego

    The longer I’ve worked in leadership, the less interested I’ve become in who gets the credit.

    I’m much more interested in whether we’ve made a difference.

    Working together doesn’t mean thinking the same.

    It doesn’t mean losing your independence or compromising your values.

    It doesn’t mean collaborating for the sake of appearances.

    Real collaboration means recognising where other people, other teams or other organisations can help achieve something bigger than any one of us could achieve alone.

    It requires trust.

    It requires confidence.

    And sometimes it requires setting our own ego to one side.

    Because ultimately the people and communities we serve don’t care which organisation delivered the support.

    They care that someone did.

    Perhaps that’s the question we should all ask ourselves more often.

    Are we protecting our own position…

    …or are we advancing our shared purpose?

  • Delegation Isn’t Just About Workload

    Delegation Isn’t Just About Workload

    I’m writing this with a couple of days of annual leave left and, inevitably, my mind has started drifting towards what will be waiting for me when I get back.

    I already know there are around 700 unread emails, which is, quite honestly, ridiculous.

    Thankfully, experience tells me that a good proportion of them will simply be things I’ve been copied into for information rather than emails requiring a response. So, like many leaders returning from leave, there’ll be a prioritisation exercise before anything else.

    There was a time when I tied myself in knots trying to reply to every single email that landed in my inbox. If I didn’t acknowledge it, I convinced myself I was being rude or arrogant, which completely conflicted with my values.

    Fast forward a few years and I’ve accepted that responding to everything simply isn’t realistic. These days, I’m surprisingly grateful for being able to leave a simple thumbs up or heart reaction. It keeps my inner critic reasonably quiet and lets people know their email hasn’t disappeared into the abyss.

    As I was thinking about those 700 emails, it reminded me of something that comes up regularly in coaching conversations: delegation.

    Delegation or simply distributing work?

    My relationship with delegation has definitely changed over the years.

    I wouldn’t say I’ve perfected it, but I’ve become much better at recognising what delegation actually is.

    I think we sometimes confuse delegation with simply distributing work.

    To me, distributing work is straightforward. Tasks are allocated because they naturally sit within someone’s role and responsibilities. People expect that.

    Delegation feels different.

    It’s about intentionally asking someone to take ownership of something that you could have done yourself.

    And that’s where many leaders start to feel uncomfortable.

    The stories we tell ourselves

    I’ve coached leaders who struggle to delegate because they worry they’re overloading their team.

    Others feel guilty asking someone else to do something they believe should sit with them.

    Some worry they’ll be seen as lazy or incapable.

    The intentions are almost always good.

    But the consequences rarely are.

    The leader becomes overwhelmed.

    Everything starts to compete for attention.

    Strategic thinking disappears beneath operational work.

    And perhaps most importantly, opportunities for other people to grow are lost.

    Delegation isn’t just about reducing your workload.

    It’s one of the most powerful ways we develop people and demonstrate our trust in them.

    It gives people experiences they wouldn’t otherwise have.

    It stretches confidence far more effectively than another training course ever could.

    My own challenge

    My own relationship with delegation has evolved.

    These days, I don’t struggle to share routine work.

    The things I find hardest to let go of are the things I genuinely love.

    I can become a bit of a hoarder when it comes to work I’m passionate about.

    Part of that comes from having built expertise over many years. There’s a part of me that worries if I let go of certain pieces of work, I’ll gradually lose that expertise or become less connected to the subject.

    Then there are the opportunities where someone reaches out asking specifically for me to get involved.

    Perhaps it’s speaking at a conference.

    Joining a project.

    Contributing to a piece of work.

    It feels good to be asked.

    If I’m honest, there has probably been a belief somewhere that, as CEO, I should be saying yes. That staying visible, staying relevant and being the public face of the organisation somehow sits with me.

    After more than fourteen years with the organisation, I’ve represented our work all over the world. It’s easy for your identity to become intertwined with being the person people think of first.

    But leadership isn’t about hanging on to every opportunity.

    Sometimes it’s about knowing when to let someone else step forward.

    Letting other people shine

    Over the past few months, I’ve been making a much more conscious effort to do exactly that.

    When requests come in, I’ve found myself suggesting colleagues instead.

    People who’ve been delighted to take on a project that stretches them beyond their usual role.

    I’ve passed speaking opportunities to colleagues who are now far more knowledgeable than I am on particular topics.

    I’ve encouraged others to attend conferences where they’re better placed to contribute than I would be.

    And every single time, the organisation has been stronger because of it.

    Delegation is an investment

    I think delegation is one of those leadership skills that becomes easier once we stop seeing it as giving work away.

    Instead, we start seeing it as investing in other people.

    Yes, it frees up our own capacity.

    But that’s only part of the story.

    Done well, delegation builds confidence.

    It develops future leaders.

    It increases resilience across teams.

    And it creates organisations that don’t rely too heavily on one individual.

    Ironically, one of the best ways to demonstrate your value as a leader isn’t by proving you can do everything yourself.

    It’s by creating opportunities for other people to discover what they’re capable of.

    Because leadership isn’t measured by how indispensable we become.

    It’s measured by how many other people grow because we were willing to let go.

  • Why Stepping Away Helped Me Think More Clearly

    Why Stepping Away Helped Me Think More Clearly

    I’m just back from a lovely week in Croatia with my partner, his kids and his family.

    The family are from Slovakia, so it’s fair to say there’s a bit of a language barrier, although I’ve been doing my best to learn some of the basics over the past few years! Building relationships in this way is definitely a challenge, and it’s prompted me (again) to re-subscribe to a language learning app with renewed determination to improve my Slovak.

    It’s reminded me that relationships don’t depend on getting every word right. Patience, curiosity and a willingness to keep trying count for a lot.

    Another first this holiday was that I didn’t take my work phone with me.

    For some people, that probably doesn’t sound particularly remarkable.

    For me, it is.

    Previously, I’d have been checking it constantly, responding to emails and occasionally even taking work calls. Even with my out-of-office switched on, it wasn’t unusual for someone to receive the notification that I was on leave and then message me through social media because something felt urgent to them.

    Looking back, I realise all of that blurred the boundary between work and personal time. It interrupted my thoughts, stopped me fully switching off and made it much harder to properly recharge.

    I think we all have a responsibility to respect other people’s time off.

    The reason I was able to leave my phone behind so confidently this year was because I have a hugely trusted team around me.

    They have my personal number should something genuinely urgent arise, and I trust their judgement completely about when that would be appropriate.

    As it turned out, I didn’t hear from anyone.

    Which probably tells me everything I needed to know.

    Creating space to think

    That isn’t to say I didn’t think about work.

    I did.

    But it felt different.

    There were quiet moments in the morning, sitting on the balcony with a cup of tea, wondering how my Scottish skin was going to cope with another day of 34-degree heat, where my mind naturally drifted towards ideas rather than tasks.

    I’ve noticed this pattern for years.

    Colleagues who know me well often joke that whenever I come back from annual leave, I’ll arrive with a notebook full of new ideas and things I’d like to explore.

    They’re usually right.

    It got me thinking about why that happens.

    Why does stepping away make it easier to think creatively?

    I don’t think it’s because holidays magically make us more innovative.

    I think it’s because they give our brains the space they’ve been craving.

    Busy isn’t always productive

    Over the past year, I’ve deliberately blocked out time in my diary every week for strategic thinking.

    Protecting that time has been one of the best habits I’ve introduced because it creates space to focus on the bigger picture rather than simply responding to what’s immediately in front of me.

    Recently though, I’ve noticed that space starting to disappear.

    My diary has gradually filled up with more operational meetings and day-to-day activity.

    From the outside, it probably looks like I’m incredibly productive.

    If I’m honest with myself, there are weeks where I finish feeling like I’ve been busy every minute of every day but haven’t really moved anything important forward.

    I’m sure many leaders will recognise that feeling.

    Being busy and creating value aren’t always the same thing.

    When we’re constantly immersed in operational work, we lose some of our ability to spot opportunities, notice patterns and think strategically about what’s coming next.

    Those are some of the things leaders are there to do.

    Not because we’re more important than anyone else, but because it’s much harder to see the bigger picture when you’re standing in the middle of it.

    Sometimes stepping back is part of the job.

    A timely reminder

    This holiday reminded me that if I want to do my best work, I need to create the conditions that allow it to happen.

    That means protecting thinking time just as deliberately as I protect meeting time.

    It means trusting other people.

    It means recognising that constantly being available isn’t the same as being effective.

    And sometimes it simply means giving myself permission to step away.

    I’ve still got another week of annual leave before heading back to work.

    Alongside the inevitable post-holiday washing mountain, catching up with family, tackling the garden and celebrating a couple of birthdays, I’ll also be investing some time in my own development. I’m fully immersed in my coaching journey just now, so there’ll be plenty of reading and a few webinars on the agenda too.

    I will admit to one small lapse.

    I couldn’t resist a sneaky look at my work phone.

    There was one condition… I wasn’t allowed to respond.

    Over 500 unopened emails later…

    I very quickly decided I wouldn’t be checking it again until I’m back.

    That said, the sneaky peek wasn’t entirely without reward. Buried amongst the emails was confirmation that I’d passed another few parts of my ILM Level 7 Executive Coaching and Mentoring Diploma. With only a small part left to complete, the end is finally in sight – and that was definitely worth opening the inbox for!

    d’akujem za prečitanie!

    (thanks for reading! 🇸🇰)

  • The Problem With Trying to Get it Right

    The Problem With Trying to Get it Right

    Last week I recorded a podcast with my co-host and two guests to discuss one of the articles featured in the latest edition of Buzz, the peer-led harm reduction magazine.

    It was a great conversation and, as often happens, one particular part of the discussion played on my mind long after we finished recording.

    We were talking about engagement with LGBTQ+ communities and some of the uncertainty people can experience when they’re worried about using the wrong language, getting terminology wrong or inadvertently causing offence.

    We talked about the impact this can have on people’s confidence.

    Sometimes people become so worried about saying the wrong thing that they avoid saying anything at all.

    Or they convince themselves that they need to become an expert before they’re able to engage meaningfully.

    The result is that the person in front of them can become secondary to their own anxiety about getting it right.

    As we talked, I realised there are strong parallels with the work I see in drug services.

    The pressure to know everything

    Over the years, I’ve noticed a growing belief that people working in services should know everything.

    Every substance. Every effect. Every trend. Every piece of emerging evidence.

    Of course, having knowledge is important.

    People should be informed and competent in the areas they work within.

    But sometimes I wonder whether we’ve unintentionally created a culture where people feel they need to be experts before they can have a conversation.

    I’ve met workers who worry about asking questions because they feel they should already know the answers.

    I’ve seen people hesitate to explore a topic because they’re concerned about exposing gaps in their knowledge.

    And I’ve watched confidence disappear because someone believes they should be able to understand every aspect of another person’s experience before they’ve even engaged with them.

    The reality that we need to accept is that none of us know everything.

    And perhaps more importantly, we don’t need to.

    Curiosity over perfection

    One of the things coaching has reinforced for me is the power of curiosity.

    When we stop worrying about having all the answers, we create space to ask better questions.

    Instead of trying to demonstrate expertise, we become interested in understanding.

    Instead of assuming, we explore. Instead of speaking, we listen.

    Curiosity allows us to move towards people rather than away from them.

    It creates opportunities for genuine connection because the focus shifts from ourselves to the person in front of us.

    What is their experience? What matters to them?

    What can they teach us about their world?

    Those questions are often far more valuable than trying to prove what we already know.

    Being human first

    I sometimes think we’ve overcomplicated what good support looks like.

    Whether it’s healthcare, social care, leadership, coaching or public services, the thing people most often remember isn’t the policy, process or intervention.

    It’s how they were treated.

    Time and time again, when people reflect on positive experiences, they talk about relationships.

    They talk about feeling listened to.

    Feeling respected.

    Feeling understood.

    Feeling like someone genuinely cared.

    That doesn’t happen because someone had perfect knowledge.

    It happens because someone showed up as a human being.

    Someone was willing to listen, to learn.

    Someone was willing to say, “I don’t know, but I’d like to understand.”

    The fear of getting it wrong

    I wonder if, in some spaces, we’ve become so focused on avoiding mistakes that we’ve accidentally created a fear of engagement.

    People become worried about saying the wrong thing.

    Using the wrong language. Asking the wrong question.

    Not being knowledgeable enough.

    People are far more perceptive than we often give them credit for. They can sense when someone is anxious about getting it right, and that anxiety can quickly become contagious. Instead of creating connection, it can make both people more guarded, shutting down the very conversation that might have helped build understanding in the first place.

    It’s fair to say that when fear replaces curiosity, people withdraw. Relationships become more superficial and opportunities to learn from one another are lost.

    Of course, we should strive to be respectful.

    We should be open to feedback. We should continue learning.

    But perhaps we also need to give ourselves permission to be human.

    To acknowledge that we won’t always get everything right and that we’re all fallible.

    To accept that learning often happens through conversation rather than before it.

    Staying curious

    One of the most useful lessons I’ve learned throughout my career is that people rarely expect perfection.

    What they often value is authenticity.

    They value honesty. They value genuine interest.

    And they value being treated as partners rather than problems to be solved.

    Whether we’re supporting people who use drugs, engaging with LGBTQ+ communities, leading teams or coaching colleagues, I think the same principle applies.

    We don’t need to know everything.

    We do need to stay curious.

    Curiosity builds understanding.

    Understanding builds relationships.

    And relationships are often where meaningful change begins.

  • When Your Greatest Strength Gets in the Way

    When Your Greatest Strength Gets in the Way

    I previously wrote about one of my compulsions: the need to speak up when I encounter stigma, discrimination or narratives towards people who use substances that I believe are harmful.

    It’s almost like a voice in my head that won’t rest until it’s let loose.

    Over time, I’ve become more aware that whilst speaking up is important, how we speak up matters too.

    Last week (like most weeks, if I’m honest) provided plenty of opportunities to put that theory into practice.

    One particular moment came at an external event where, to be frank, I couldn’t quite believe what I was hearing.

    The discussion turned to the treatment, care and choices for people who use substances and some of the views being expressed felt so far removed from my own values and beliefs that I could feel myself becoming increasingly uncomfortable.

    I sat listening, trying to stay open-minded and curious, but with every passing minute I could feel myself becoming more and more triggered. Like I was going to spontaneously combust kind of triggered.

    Eventually, I accepted the inevitable and put my hand up for the microphone.

    In those few seconds before speaking, I had a quick internal conversation with myself.

    How do I challenge this? How do I make my position clear?

    How do I remain respectful whilst strongly disagreeing?

    Most importantly, how do I make sure that people leave understanding there is another perspective without simply creating conflict?

    Those moments are rarely comfortable.

    But when I think about why I speak up, it almost always comes back to the people behind the issue. If I sit silently while harmful narratives go unchallenged, I often leave feeling complicit in them.

    When values collide

    Reflecting on situations like this, I’ve realised that the moments I find most challenging aren’t necessarily when people disagree with me.

    It’s when there’s a fundamental clash of values.

    The things that feel deeply important to me won’t always feel equally important to other people.

    It doesn’t mean they’re bad people.

    It doesn’t mean they’re acting with ill intent.

    And it certainly doesn’t mean everyone has to agree with me. 

    But when we’re discussing issues that affect people’s dignity, rights or wellbeing, I find it impossible not to engage.

    The challenge is making sure that my response is helpful rather than simply emotional.

    The theory of core qualities

    One coaching model I often use with clients is the Theory of Core Qualities.

    I like it because it helps us explore something that many of us experience but don’t always recognise:

    Our greatest strengths can also create some of our biggest challenges.

    The model asks us to identify:

    • Our core quality or strength
    • What happens when we bring too much of it
    • What happens when we don’t bring enough of it
    • The quality that helps us achieve balance

    It’s a deceptively simple exercise, but it often generates really insightful conversations.

    Passion and patience

    When I think about my own core quality, the word that immediately comes to mind is passion.

    I care deeply about the work I do.

    I care about the people affected by the issues we discuss.

    I care about creating change.

    And I care about ensuring that people’s voices and experiences are treated with dignity and respect.

    I feel incredibly fortunate and privileged to work in an area that has genuine purpose and meaning for me.

    That passion is often what drives me to speak up.

    But like any strength, it has a down side.

    When I bring too much of it, it can become overwhelming for others.

    I can become impatient.

    I can dominate conversations.

    I can focus so heavily on making a point that I don’t create enough space for other people to contribute.

    And if I’m not careful, the very thing that motivates me can have the opposite effect of what I intended.

    People may feel unheard.

    Relationships can become strained.

    Dialogue can shut down rather than open up.

    On the other hand, when I don’t bring enough of that passion, I experience a different problem.

    I leave conversations feeling uncomfortable.

    I question whether I should have spoken up.

    I wonder whether I’ve let people down.

    I sometimes leave feeling as though I haven’t been true to myself or to the values that matter most to me.

    Neither extreme feels right.

    Finding the balance

    The balance for me is patience.

    Not less passion.

    Not caring less.

    Not becoming quieter.

    Patience.

    Patience allows me to bring my values into conversations without overwhelming them.

    It helps me listen before responding.

    It creates space for curiosity alongside conviction.

    And it reminds me that changing minds rarely happens through winning an argument.

    More often, it happens through thoughtful dialogue, respectful challenge and giving people the opportunity to reflect.

    I’m not saying I’ve got this nailed.

    There are definitely moments where my patience disappears and my passion takes over.

    But self-awareness helps.

    Recognising the pattern helps.

    And understanding that strengths can become challenges when they’re overused helps too.

    A useful reflection

    One of the reasons I like this coaching exercise is because it’s relevant to everyone.

    We often talk about strengths as though they’re always positive and weaknesses as though they’re always negative.

    The reality is usually much more nuanced.

    Sometimes our greatest challenge isn’t developing a new skill.

    It’s learning how to use our existing strengths more effectively.

    So if you’re looking for something to reflect on, or perhaps preparing for that inevitable interview question about strengths and development areas, consider this:

    What’s your core quality?

    What happens when you bring too much of it?

    What happens when you don’t bring enough?

    And what helps you find the balance?

    The answers can be surprisingly revealing.

  • Building a Coaching Culture in Practice

    Building a Coaching Culture in Practice

    One of the reasons I decided to undertake a coaching qualification was because I wanted to have a better structure and clearer focus on how I support people to grow and develop.

    During the course I also began thinking about the wider culture of the organisation and how coaching might contribute to the positive changes we’d already been implementing.

    When I first started the ILM Level 7 Executive and Senior Level Coaching and Mentoring Diploma, the coaching hours required for the qualification needed to be completed with people operating at that level. Naturally, that led me to work with members of our leadership team as well as a number of external colleagues.

    But something didn’t sit quite right with me.

    Whilst I understood the rationale for the qualification requirements, I didn’t want coaching to become something that was only available to people in senior positions in my place of work.

    If I genuinely believed in the value of coaching, then surely the opportunity to benefit from it shouldn’t be determined by where someone sits within the organisational structure.

    So I put out a note of interest to staff across the organisation to understand whether coaching was something people might find useful and I also wanted to gauge whether being coached by me would be a bit off-putting given my position. Not that I asked that explicitly from the outset but people were informed the coach would be me, as the reality was that outsourcing coaching for everyone was unlikely to be financially possible.

    The response was encouraging.

    Around half of our staff team expressed an initial interest.

    People were looking for opportunities to reflect, develop and think differently about their work. Most people had never experienced coaching before but were importantly intrigued by the suggestion that it would be something they could access.

    The challenge then became how to make that happen in a way that felt meaningful, sustainable and aligned with the culture we were already trying to build.

    Coaching as part of the bigger picture

    One thing I was clear about from the outset was that I didn’t want coaching to become a standalone initiative sitting alongside everything else we were doing, or some secret conversations you had with the CEO that undermined managers.

    Over the past few years, we’ve made deliberate changes to how we approach supervision, appraisals and staff development.

    We’ve worked hard to make conversations more reflective and developmental, moving away from purely performance-focused discussions towards approaches that encouraged learning, growth and self-awareness.

    Creating a coaching offer that operated completely separately from those developments and supportive line management relationships felt like a missed opportunity. 

    Instead, I wanted coaching to complement and strengthen the wider culture we were trying to create.

    Designing a three-way coaching model

    After discussions with my own coaching supervisor, alongside a fair amount of reading and research, I became interested in three-way coaching models.

    The model we’ve developed is relatively simple.

    People who are interested in coaching initially meet with me for an informal conversation about what coaching is, what it isn’t, and what participation would involve.

    This has been particularly important given my role as CEO.

    It’s allowed us to have open conversations about boundaries, confidentiality and expectations before anyone decides whether coaching feels right for them.

    Following that conversation, people discuss their interest with their line manager and, if everyone agrees that coaching would be beneficial, we move into a three-way coaching agreement meeting.

    That conversation involves the person being coached, their line manager and me.

    Together, we explore what the individual hopes to achieve through coaching, any development areas they would like to focus on and how this connects to their wider role and aspirations.

    The emphasis throughout is on development rather than performance.

    The coaching goals belong to the individual and are aligned with what has been discussed previously through supervision and appraisal.

    The line manager’s role is to contribute context, support the process and understand what success might look like.

    Following this, the coaching itself takes place through a series of one-to-one monthly sessions.

    These conversations remain confidential.

    Nothing from those sessions is fed back to the manager unless the coachee chooses to share it themselves.

    At the end of the process, we will come back together for a final three-way conversation to reflect on progress, learning and what support may be helpful going forward.

    Early stages

    We’re still in the very early stages of this new venture, but there are already things that I’m really enjoying seeing.

    One is the enthusiasm people have shown for investing time in their own development.

    Another is how powerful it can be simply to create dedicated space for reflection.

    In busy organisations, it’s easy for development to become something we talk about rather than something we actively create time for.

    Coaching creates that space.

    It gives people permission to pause, think differently and explore challenges that they may otherwise continue carrying around without ever fully exploring.

    It’s been really nice to hear staff talking about noticing positive changes in the way people are working following others taking part in coaching and that being filtered through the organisation.

    Colleagues have commented on seeing differences in how people approach situations, how they lead and how they engage or communicate with others.

    It’s encouraging because that was the vision I had in mind at the beginning with the goal to support people’s growth.

    Culture experienced in practice

    In last week’s blog, I wrote that culture isn’t what you say… it’s what people experience.

    I still believe that it’s created through the everyday experiences people have when they come to work.

    It’s shaped by whether people feel listened to, trusted, invested in and supported to develop.

    For me, introducing coaching isn’t really only about coaching.

    It’s about creating another way of demonstrating that people matter and acknowledging that they are our main strength.

    It’s about investing in people’s potential and creating opportunities for growth.

    And ultimately, it’s about helping to build the kind of culture where learning, reflection and development are part of everyday practice rather than some kind of once a year event.

    So it’s a bit of a test to see if this model will work for us and if so, how we can improve it as we go if it looks like it’s here to stay.

    My thinking is that if coaching can help people grow, and if people help shape culture, then investing time in one may ultimately strengthen the other.

  • Switching Off

    Switching Off

    I’ve got a couple of weeks’ leave coming up at the end of the month and, inevitably, it feels like the rush is on to get everything done before I finish up.

    It just so happens that I’ve got a lot of in-person activities in the diary, which reduces the amount of time available for the things that need done at a desk. But I’d say I’m much better at managing this than I used to be, and much more comfortable delegating to the very capable people I work with.

    Previously, I’d have been stressed for weeks before going on leave, working all hours to clear my inbox and finish every outstanding task. By the time I actually got to my holiday, I’d be exhausted.

    And when I think about it, I’d often end up ill. A cold, a chest infection, something that seemed to arrive the minute I stopped.

    That doesn’t happen now.

    I plan ahead more sensibly and leave space for anything genuinely urgent that might arise. I also try to be realistic about what I can actually achieve before I go and what can reasonably wait until I return.

    Often, the pressure comes from ourselves. We convince ourselves that everything needs dealt with immediately and imagine people sitting waiting for our response. The reality is that most people aren’t doing that. They’re busy managing their own priorities too.

    The temptation to clear everything off your plate before leave can also have unintended consequences. You might feel great because you’ve wiped your slate clean, but in doing so you’ve simply transferred the pressure to somebody else.

    I’ve come to the conclusion that preparing well for leave isn’t about getting everything done. It’s about ensuring the right things are covered and trusting others to manage in your absence.

    I always set my out-of-office so people know I’ll be unavailable for a period of time. Which actually feels quite liberating in the moment.

    The next challenge, of course, is sticking to it.

    I’ve written previously on LinkedIn about the importance of properly switching off, and through conversations with coaching clients I’ve realised just how common it is for people to continue checking emails, responding to messages and remaining mentally connected to work during periods that are supposed to provide rest.

    Why switching off feels so difficult

    I think this is particularly true in purpose-driven work.

    When you care deeply about what you do, it can be difficult to separate yourself from it.

    The work matters. The people matter. The outcomes matter.

    And because of that, it’s easy to convince yourself that checking one email won’t hurt, that joining one call is reasonable, or that you’ll just keep an eye on things in case something comes up.

    The problem is that work rarely stays within those boundaries.

    One email becomes ten. One quick check-in becomes an hour of problem-solving.

    And before you know it, you’re physically away from work but mentally still carrying it around with you.

    Rest is not a reward

    A thing I’ve become increasingly aware of is how frequently people treat rest as something that needs to be earned. How often do we think or even describe leave as “well deserved”?

    We tell ourselves we’ll switch off once the project is finished, once the funding is secured, once the strategy is written, once the next deadline passes.

    But there is always another deadline.

    Another meeting.

    Another challenge waiting around the corner.

    If we wait until everything is done before allowing ourselves to rest, we’ll be waiting a very long time…

    Rest isn’t a reward for reaching the end of the to-do list.

    It’s part of what helps us to keep going.

    Making it easier to switch off

    Switching off rarely happens by accident. For most of us, it requires some intentional boundaries.

    Over the years, I’ve heard lots of different approaches from colleagues, coaching clients and leaders I’ve worked with. What works will vary from person to person, but the common theme is creating enough separation between work and personal time to allow your brain to genuinely disengage.

    For some people, that means removing work emails from their personal phone. For others, it’s switching off their work phone entirely when they’re on leave or outside working hours. A common concern is, “What if there’s an emergency?”

    My view has always been that if something is genuinely urgent, the people who need to reach you will know how to do so. Most issues that feel urgent in the moment can wait.

    There’s also the importance of leading by example. As leaders, we often communicate our expectations through our behaviour rather than our words. If we’re sending emails late at night, responding while on annual leave or constantly appearing available, we can unintentionally create a culture where others feel they should be doing the same.

    Sometimes the most powerful message we can send is that it’s okay to switch off.

    For those working from home, the boundaries can be even more challenging. Many people don’t have the luxury of leaving an office space and physically closing the door behind them at the end of the day. Work can remain visible in the corner of the room, sitting on a laptop screen or stacked in a pile of papers waiting for tomorrow.

    Something I’ve heard from many people is the value of creating a small end-of-day ritual. Tidying away your workspace, closing your laptop, writing tomorrow’s priorities down or even taking a short walk can help create a psychological transition between work time and personal time.

    They may seem like small actions, but they signal to your brain that the working day is over.

    Protecting your peace

    One of the biggest misconceptions about switching off is that it’s somehow selfish or indulgent.

    In reality, it’s often the opposite.

    When we never properly disconnect, we gradually lose the energy, creativity and perspectives that allow us to do our best work. We become more reactive, less patient and more likely to make decisions from a place of exhaustion rather than clarity.

    Proper rest allows us to return with fresh eyes.

    Problems that felt overwhelming before leave often feel more manageable afterwards. Decisions become clearer. Creativity returns. We find ourselves able to listen more effectively, think more strategically and engage more fully with the people around us.

    Protecting your peace isn’t just about productivity. It’s about wellbeing.

    It’s about spending time with the people who matter to you. Pursuing interests outside work. Becoming a gardener (yes it’s me). Being present in your own life rather than constantly mentally rehearsing tomorrow’s to-do list.

    Particularly in purpose-driven work, there can be a temptation to believe that caring deeply means being available all the time.

    I disagree with that.

    I think caring deeply also means looking after yourself well enough to sustain the contribution you want to make over the long term.

    Because the reality is that none of us do our best work when we’re running on empty.

    If we want to bring our best selves to the people, teams and causes we care about, we need to give ourselves permission to step away from them occasionally too.

    Trusting people to manage

    For leaders, there’s another part to this.

    Switching off requires trust.

    Trust that your team can make decisions.

    Trust that problems can be solved without you.

    Trust that the organisation won’t fall to bits because you’re unavailable for a week or two.

    Being constantly available isn’t always a sign of commitment. Sometimes it’s a sign that we haven’t created enough space for others to step forward.

    Some of the best leadership development happens when people are given the opportunity to make decisions, solve problems and use their own judgement.

    That can only happen if we occasionally step back and get out the way.

    A work in progress

    I don’t pretend I’ve mastered this. She says, writing about this on a Sunday (although I do find writing therapeutic).

    There are still moments where I feel the pull to check an email or see what’s happening.

    But I’m sooo much better than I used to be. In fact, I’m pretty strict with myself about time off.

    I’ve accepted that switching off isn’t about caring less.

    It’s about recognising that if we want to sustain ourselves in work that matters, we need to create space to rest, recharge and reconnect with the parts of life that exist beyond our jobs.

    The work will still be there when we get back.

    And, more often than not, we’ll be better equipped to do it because we took the break.