The Lone Rangers

The Lone Ranger

I was talking to a friend of mine this morning and I started the conversation with a perfectly normal question that we all sometimes begin conversations with. I asked him, “How’s business?” He started saying something like, “It’s fine.” (or, “I can’t complain.”) or some other standard deflecting remark that’s all about looking good and not complaining.) Then he caught himself. He acknowledged our friendship and then he said, “You know – I don’t have to do that with you. Here’s what’s really happening.” And he told me.

Why do we do that? We probably think that we do that out of a peculiar courtesy. We assume the person doesn’t really want to know, so we short circuit any answer to avoid boring him or her. But it becomes habitual – We hide ourselves and then we keep hidden.

I get the same answers when I ask people to explore being coached. “I’m fine; I have no complaints.” Of course, there’s something else there. First. It avoids the discomfort of saying, ‘no thanks.’ But underneath that is the basic assumption that coaching is only for people with problems. To be coached is to admit to a need for help.

Not so. Even the Lone Ranger had Tonto; someone to run along side him and provide support (though that really stretches the analogy – I ain’t no sidekick). Coaching is all about creating your future, not fixing your past or hiding your present.