One of the biggest challenges for me as a coach is to resist the temptation to tell clients how they can fix things. Often a client will outline a dilemma or a problem, and my first impulse is to scroll through the list of possible solutions in my brain and say, “You can fix that by doing _________________.”
In this season of giving, I’ve been thinking about this business of fixing things for others and chronic advice giving. I’ve concluded that advice should not be on my gift list.
I know from my own experience that I do not always welcome others’ efforts to fix my problems. When I share a dilemma—a physical ailment, a challenge in a relationship, or a work-related problem—it’s not always helpful when the other person responds with “Just do this, and it will fix your problem.” Sometimes I’m looking for advice, and in those cases, I usually ask for it directly. But other times, I just need to talk about the issue out loud with a neutral party so that I can process the situation.
I thought about this issue last week as I was listening to a podcast interview. One of the podcast guests said that the least helpful people in her life were well-meaning people who tried to fix her problems. She offered the example of the way people responded when they learned about her debilitating bout of acid reflux during pregnancy. The reflux was so severe that it interfered with her sleep, her eating, and even her ability to talk. She cycled through several doctor-prescribed remedies that failed to address the issue. She said, “It was horrible. And when I started to share that [struggle], . . . I cannot tell you how many people asked if I had ever tried ginger tea. And I was like (laughter), you don't think that I've been Googling this day in and day out? . . . It was people who were well-intentioned but ... I just wanted people to be like, ‘Oh, that's- that sounds hard.’ Or, ‘How's it going now?’ Or, you know, ‘What did your doctor say?’ Or, ‘What have you found...’ Like just a question, I think.”
She points to a couple of the reasons that our efforts to fix things for others are a problem. First, other people are capable of searching for their own solutions. In our eagerness to help, we can dismiss their competence or oversimplify the problem. This woman had already gone far beyond ginger tea in her search for solutions. Second, she really wanted the people she shared her ailment with to hear her struggles and sympathize with them—to show some simple concern and to listen.
The folks at the Center for Courage and Renewal, an organization that nurtures integrity and relational trust through opportunities for reflection in community, uses a set of six practices to guide their work. One of them is that participants should “commit to no fixing, advising, ‘saving’ or correcting each other.” They acknowledge that this commitment is particularly difficult for people who really want to help others. However, they say, forgoing the tendency to fix “is vital to welcoming the soul, to making space for the inner teacher.”
As a coach, I’ve learned that there are several problems with the urge to fix things for people. For one thing, as an outsider, I rarely know enough about the situation to correctly identify the solution to a problem. I risk offering up a “solution” that does not fix the problem or--worse yet—makes the problem worse. But the bigger problem is that I can make people feel dismissed by not really hearing them and understanding their problems. I can jump into problem-solving mode so quickly that I stop actively listening to what the client has to say.
If my fix-it mentality does others a disservice, it’s also not always good for me. It can be exhausting to spend loads of time and energy trying to fix things for other people.
I can’t fix everything for my clients, my friends, or my loved ones. My role is to create a space that is welcoming to their souls and to help them hear an inner teacher. When people ask my advice, I might offer suggestions or observations. I might say, “Have you tried one of these three options?” or “This was helpful for another client, but it might not fit your situation.”
It’s rarely helpful for me to try to fix others’ problems. Instead I am learning that it’s more useful to say things like: “That sounds hard. Can you tell me more?” “Tell me about what you think might improve the situation.” “What are some of the reasons this situation is hard for you?” “How can you address this problem in ways that feel true to YOUR core values?” By listening as people talk through their own dilemmas, I can create space for them to solve their own problems. In the process, they build resilience and a repertoire of their own problem-solving tools. I can create a space where people feel heard. And that’s something that most of us don’t feel often enough.
As the wise writer and teacher Parker J. Palmer puts it, “Here’s the deal. The human soul doesn’t want to be advised or fixed or saved. It simply wants to be witnessed — to be seen, heard and companioned exactly as it is. When we make that kind of deep bow to the soul of a suffering person, our respect reinforces the soul’s healing resources, the only resources that can help the sufferer make it through.”