Go As Far As You Can See
This essay was originally published on October 15 2020 in my newsletter.
On the evening of the second Tuesday of every month, I get together with friends and do puzzles. Not jigsaw puzzles or simple crosswords, but a set of six unique puzzles created just for each month's event. The puzzles are usually fairly hard and involve more than one mechanism, like logic, wordplay, or a code or cipher. Usually, when we read the instructions, we don't know how we'll eventually solve the puzzle.
I used to hate not knowing how things would turn out. I never started things unless I could clearly see the whole arc of the journey: I will go to the grocery store and then the bank, stop for coffee and come home; I will leave early for the airport, catch the plane, rent a car and drive to my mum's house; I will go to university and get a degree and then a job; I will get pregnant, have babies, raise them and have fun together and it will be awesome.
It speaks to my affluence, privilege, and great good luck how often things have worked out just the way I expected them to. It's also evident that I don't choose to do very risky things.
I'm in the middle of training on a team coaching system called the Living Systems Approach. It's accurately named, Living Systems Approach, because it's not a method or a formula. It's completely bespoke — each team coaching engagement is created ad hoc in response to that team and their needs.
The thing about that is you have to dive in and start working with the team before you know exactly what you're going to do. As Brian Cyr, one of the instructors, put it "You go as far as you can see, and then you can see further."
Obviously this is quite uncomfortable for me.
When I did puzzles by myself, I used to give up on them pretty easily, almost as soon as I didn't know what to do next. It was partly fear of failure (and what it would mean about me if I failed), and partly a lack of trust that I could eventually figure it out, with more time or effort.
That tendency to give up had to go when I started doing puzzles with friends: I couldn't give up while everyone else was still working! So I learned to persist.
That’s not all I learned. I learned some puzzling skills, of course. I learned that there's always something you can try, and that it's usually more fruitful to do something than to stare at the page and try to think.
I learned that sometimes the thing to do is work on another puzzle and come back to this one later, and sometimes the thing to do is ask for a hint. (I learned that it's okay to ask for a hint, but if you just try for a few more minutes, you often don't need to.)
I learned that the harder you work, the more satisfying it is when you solve the puzzle.
I also learned that it's okay to not know, and that not knowing now doesn't mean you will never know.
My puzzle friends trust that if they keep looking at the puzzle, trying things, thinking, rereading the instructions, talking, and trying more things, eventually a light will go on and the way forward will become clear.
Trust is the Key
Trust in yourself, that you will be able to figure it out and that you will be able to recover if you don't, is key to carrying on when the way is dark.
We talk about lot about "trust in the process" with coaching, because the process of coaching is inherently powerful: There is a clear and structured process and a well-defined set of competencies. And like puzzling, sometimes coaching seems like it’s going nowhere when you’re in the middle of it.
With puzzles, the process is looser than with coaching, but the weird cycle of read-try-erase-think-talk-read-try-erase usually does bear fruit.
Trust in other humans is also important. Trust in the client is a huge part of coaching: it's a basic tenet of coaching that the client is creative, resourceful, and whole.
I'm learning to trust that if I approach coaching, puzzling, and other ambiguous adventures with an open mind and and handful of skills, I will eventually find my way.