if I knew the answer
People frequently come to coaching when they feel stuck or unclear. There are many ways to become unstuck and to find clarity, and sometimes, we are trying to force the lock. If we step back, take a breath, and let our hands work the combination, they might just do it without our over- analyzing mind getting in the way. When we say that we just don’t know, as in —we don’t know the right answer, or we don’t know what action to take next, what are we really saying? We might mean that we don’t feel comfortable with the answer; we might mean that we need more information in order to answer; or, we might mean that we are looking at the decision from a perspective that is not useful. What would it be like to speak from another point of view? I love this question and to me it represents one of the ineffable qualities of useful discourse, and the magic of coaching.
If you did know, what would you say? That’s the tool I use. And when I have said that to a client, the first response is usually a surprised smile. I might ask it when the client is spinning their wheels, or says, I don't know, repeatedly. Because it’s an unusual tactic, it breaks up the refrain and the exhausted narrative. In that phrase there is the allowance of the paradoxical: to know and to not know, simultaneously. To speak, to articulate and yet not to delineate, to get boxed in, or to over commit.
On another occasion, a client might say: If I knew the answer I wouldn't be talking to you. I might reply, Yes ,that’s true, and let's still pretend for a moment that you do know the answer. What would that feel like? What happens next is informative: in providing the specifics of their desired state, we can arrive at a hypothetical answer, which is already a ton of information to work with! It gives us room to play, and to come at knowing from another direction.
And on other occasions, the line of questioning might reveal that this particular problem is actually a red herring. A person I was working with told me that she realized she didn’t need an answer at all, and that in fact, the stated concern had become a distraction and was sitting directly in front of the real concern. She realized that her preoccupation with choosing between different job titles was keeping her from asking for what she really wanted, which was a more substantial salary, and that unless this issue was addressed first, she had no interest in discussing her title.
The subjunctive mood of the phrase… If you were to know… is technically useful; it's without judgement, and it does a beautiful job of assuming, and therefore positing that some aspect of the recipient has an answer, or realizes that the answer is not needed after all. Bringing curiosity in to the room and treating each next step like an experiment allows us to collect more data. And having the freedom to speculate allows us to proceed!
