The Coaching Habits We Don’t Know We Have

Growing as a Coach — Part 2

Every coach develops habits.

Some of them are easy to recognize. Others become so much a part of the way we coach that we hardly notice them anymore. We have favorite kinds of questions, familiar ways of responding, places where we tend to move quickly and places where we tend to linger.

Most of these habits aren't necessarily bad. In fact, many grow out of our strengths. But when we become more aware of them, they can tell us something important about how we're showing up with our clients.

One of those habits for me has been stacking questions.

A Growth Edge I've Had to Notice

You probably know what I mean. Instead of asking one question and allowing the client to respond, I might ask a question, add another thought, and then follow it with a second—or even third—question.

It can sound something like this:

"What's most important to you about this decision? And what do you think is keeping you from moving forward? Is there something you're afraid you might lose?" Yikes!

There may be three perfectly good questions in there. The problem is that I've given the client three places to go.

I've noticed this tendency in my own coaching, and peer coaches and mentors have pointed it out to me as well. It's become one of my growth edges—something I continue to monitor because it tells me something about my presence with a client.

Why am I asking another question?

Am I giving the client enough room to think?

Do I really need to clarify what I just asked, or am I uncomfortable with the space that follows?

Would one simple question be enough?

That awareness helps me slow down.

Sometimes Our Habits Grow Out of Our Strengths

Active listening has always felt like one of my natural strengths as a coach. I enjoy listening to people. I tend to hear themes and connections, and I'm curious about what's underneath what someone is saying.

But I've learned that being naturally attentive doesn't mean I've mastered active listening. In fact, the longer I coach, the more expansive listening seems to become.

Listening isn't only hearing the client's words or remembering what they said five minutes ago. It's noticing a shift in energy. A word they keep repeating. A hesitation. An assumption buried inside a sentence. A change in tone. Something they said quickly and moved past. Something they didn't say at all.

And sometimes the most important part of listening is simply noticing what just happened—and resisting the urge to do something with it too quickly.

Notice. Pause. Ask.

I'm learning that those three simple movements can create a lot of space in a coaching conversation.

Notice what's happening with the client—and what's happening in me.

Pause long enough to let the moment breathe.

Then ask what seems most useful, without needing to package everything I've noticed into one beautifully constructed question. Ironically, learning to ask less can help me listen more.

We Can't Always Hear Our Own Habits

The tricky thing about coaching habits is that we're often the last ones to recognize them.

That's understandable. While we're coaching, we're listening, observing, thinking, responding, and trying to stay fully present with another person. We're not simultaneously sitting outside the conversation evaluating everything we're doing.

That's why reflection and feedback are so valuable.

Sometimes I'll finish a coaching conversation feeling pretty good about it, only to hear something different when I listen to the recording. A question was longer than I remembered. I moved on too quickly. I missed an opportunity to stay with something. Or, yes, I stacked several questions together when one would have been enough.

That kind of awareness isn't something I want to fear. I want to welcome it. Because once I can see a pattern, I have choices.

What Patterns Might You Notice?

Every coach has them.

Maybe you fill silence quickly. Perhaps you have a tendency to lead the client toward action. Maybe you ask long questions, offer interpretations too readily, or spend more time exploring the situation than the person experiencing it.

You may also discover patterns that reveal genuine strengths: the way you create safety, notice emotion, evoke insight, or help clients hear themselves differently. The goal isn't to scrutinize every coaching conversation until we become self-conscious. That can actually work against presence. The goal is awareness.

So here's my challenge for you this week:

Pay attention to one pattern in your coaching.

Don't start with, "What am I doing wrong?" Instead, approach it with curiosity: "What do I tend to do?"

If you record your coaching (with client consent of course), listen to a portion of a session. If you don't, take five minutes after your next client and reflect on what you noticed about yourself. Better yet, invite a trusted coach, mentor, or peer to listen and tell you what they notice.

You might discover a growth edge. You might discover a strength you haven't fully appreciated. Most likely, you'll discover a little of both. And that's part of becoming a better coach.

Sometimes We Need Another Set of Ears

One of the things I value most about mentor coaching is the opportunity to have someone else listen to our coaching—not simply to evaluate it, but to help us notice what can be difficult to hear ourselves.

That's an important part of my Coach-Pro Mentor Coaching program. Along with exploring the ICF Core Competencies and learning together you get individual feedback sessions and evaluations of your own coaching recordings.

The goal isn't perfection. It's greater awareness: recognizing what you already do well, identifying the patterns that may be limiting you, and choosing a few meaningful places to grow.

Learn more about Coach-Pro Mentor Coaching →

What Makes a Good Coach Better?

Growing as a Coach — Part 1

When we first learn to coach, growth can feel pretty obvious. We learn new skills. We practice asking better questions. We discover what it means to listen differently, resist the urge to give advice, and allow the client to do more of the thinking. If we're pursuing an ICF credential, we become familiar with the Core Competencies and begin paying attention to what effective coaching actually looks like.

There is a lot to learn—and usually plenty of evidence that we're learning it.

But something interesting can happen once we've been coaching for a while. We get comfortable.

That's not necessarily a bad thing. With experience comes confidence. Conversations begin to flow more naturally. We don't have to think quite so hard about what question to ask next. We develop instincts that help us recognize patterns, stay curious, and trust the coaching process.

But comfort can also make growth harder to see.

When Competence Becomes Comfortable

One of the challenges of becoming an experienced coach is that we develop ways of coaching that work. Certain questions tend to produce good conversations. Certain approaches fit our personality. Clients respond well to us. They make progress. They refer other people to us. All of that can reinforce the idea that we're doing pretty well.

And perhaps we are.

But there's an important difference between being a competent coach and being a growing coach. A competent coach has developed skills that work. A growing coach remains curious about those skills.

Why did I ask that question? What was happening with the client that I may have missed? Was I following the client's agenda—or subtly following my own? Where did I become uncomfortable? What do I consistently do well, and where might I still be playing it safe?

These aren't questions we ask because we're failing as coaches. They're questions we ask because growth requires awareness.

When Strengths Become Blind Spots

Over time, every coach develops a coaching style. Perhaps you're naturally empathetic and create a wonderful sense of safety for your clients. Maybe you're particularly good at helping people see possibilities. Perhaps you notice patterns quickly, ask challenging questions, or help clients move toward action.

Those are strengths worth celebrating. But our strengths can also become places where we stop paying attention.

The coach who creates tremendous safety may sometimes hesitate to challenge. The coach who sees patterns quickly may occasionally get ahead of the client. The coach who loves action may move toward solutions before enough discovery has happened. And the coach who asks powerful questions may sometimes be so focused on the next question that they miss what just happened in the conversation.

Growth doesn't necessarily mean replacing these strengths. Often, it means becoming more intentional about how and when we use them.

That's a different kind of learning than simply acquiring another coaching technique.

Growth Requires a Mirror

There's another challenge: most of us coach alone.

Once our formal training is finished, there may be very few people who actually hear us coach. We move from conversation to conversation, doing meaningful work with clients, but rarely have another experienced coach observing us. That makes it difficult to see our own patterns.

It's a little like trying to see the back of your own head without a mirror.

Reflection helps. Continuing education helps. Reading about coaching and listening to good coaching helps. But sometimes we need another person to notice what we can't see ourselves.

That's one of the things I've come to appreciate about mentor coaching. At its best, mentor coaching isn't simply about satisfying a credentialing requirement or demonstrating the ICF competencies correctly. It's an opportunity to become more aware of who we are becoming as coaches.

What comes naturally to us? Where are we growing? Where might we be getting in our own way? And what would happen if we became just a little more intentional in one or two areas of our coaching?

So, Where Are You Growing?

As coaches, we regularly invite our clients to stretch, experiment, notice patterns, and move beyond what's comfortable. It's worth occasionally turning that same invitation toward ourselves.

So here's a question I'd encourage you to sit with this week:

When was the last time you intentionally examined how you coach—not simply whether your clients are getting results?

Maybe there's a strength you want to deepen, a competency you'd like to understand more fully, or a habit you're beginning to notice. Or perhaps you've simply reached a place where coaching feels comfortable—and you sense it's time to stretch again.

You don't need ten things to work on. One is enough.

Becoming a better coach rarely happens through one dramatic breakthrough. More often, it happens through curiosity, reflection, feedback, practice—and the willingness to remain a learner.

And I hope that's something none of us ever outgrow.

-Tim

If you're looking for a place to continue growing as a coach while completing your mentor coaching requirements, let’s talk!

Learn more about Coach-Pro Mentor Coaching →

What Healthy Transition Actually Looks Like

Navigating Transition | Part 5

What does it mean to navigate transition well?

It's an interesting question because I think many of us carry an image of what a "good" transition is supposed to look like. We imagine having clarity about where we're going, confidence about the decisions we're making, peace about what we're leaving behind, and maybe even a growing sense of excitement about what's ahead.

Sometimes transition does feel that way. But often it doesn't.

We resist changes we know we need. We struggle to see the next step. We grieve circumstances we never would have chosen. We second-guess our decisions and wonder whether we're getting any of it right.

Does that mean we're navigating transition poorly? I don't think so.

Healthy transition isn't about eliminating resistance, uncertainty, loss, or fear. It's learning how to navigate all of them well.

Healthy Transition Makes Room for What Is

One of the easiest things to do during transition is wish we were somewhere else. We want the uncertainty to end, the decision made, the grief behind us, and our confidence restored. Essentially, we want to get through the transition so we can get on with our lives.

But transition is part of our lives.

That's why one of the healthiest things we can do is become more present to the season we're actually in. If there's resistance, become curious about it. If there's loss, acknowledge it. If there's fear, listen to what's underneath it. And if there's uncertainty, resist the temptation to manufacture certainty simply to make yourself feel better.

Healthy transition begins with being honest about what is, rather than demanding that this season be something it isn't.

Healthy Transition Doesn't Require Having It All Figured Out

Earlier in this series, I wrote about one of the questions I hear frequently in coaching: "How do I know what my next step is?"

Behind that question is often a desire for certainty. We want to know where we're headed before we begin moving. But clarity doesn't always work that way.

Sometimes we have enough clarity to take a significant step. Other times we have just enough to start a conversation, explore an opportunity, gather some information, or try a small experiment. All of those steps count.

Healthy transition doesn't require a complete roadmap. It asks us to pay attention to what we know today and be willing to respond to it. Sometimes the next faithful step really is enough.

Healthy Transition Honors What We're Leaving Behind

Not every transition is one we choose. Some feel as though the rug has been pulled out from underneath us. Others are natural seasons of life—retirement, an empty nest, aging parents, changing relationships—that arrive whether we feel ready for them or not.

Even transitions we willingly choose involve loss. Something is ending: a role, a rhythm, a relationship, a place, an identity, or perhaps a version of ourselves we've known for a long time.

Healthy transition doesn't require us to minimize those losses in order to embrace what's next. We can be grateful for what was and still be ready for something new. We can grieve an ending while experiencing hope about a beginning.

We can hold both.

Healthy Transition Recovers Our Freedom to Choose

Fear can make transition feel incredibly narrow. We begin believing there's one right answer, one perfect decision, or one path we're supposed to discover. We look to other people for validation, impose artificial deadlines on ourselves, and overthink our choices.

I've done all of those things.

But one of the important lessons transition has taught me is that other people's voices can inform my decisions without owning them. I can listen to wise counsel, pray, pay attention to my needs and values, and consider how my choices affect the people I love. Then, at some point, I can choose.

That's not independence from God or from others. It's taking responsibility for the freedom God has given me.

Healthy transition allows us to move from "What if I get this wrong?" toward "How can I make a thoughtful and faithful choice with what I know today?"

Healthy Transition Changes Us

Perhaps this is the part we miss most often. We tend to measure a transition by its outcome: Did I get the job? Did we make the move? Did I choose the right opportunity? Did the new season work out the way I'd hoped?

Those things matter, but there's another question worth asking:

Who am I becoming through this transition?

Some of the most important transitions in my own life have changed much more than my circumstances. They've challenged assumptions I've carried, clarified what matters most, deepened my trust in God, and helped me become more comfortable living with questions I can't immediately answer.

That's why I don't think the goal of transition is simply to get to the other side. The journey itself has something to offer us.

Maybe You're Navigating Better Than You Think

If you're in transition right now, perhaps you don't feel particularly healthy or confident. Maybe you're still resisting. Maybe you don't know what's next. Maybe you're grieving something you didn't choose, or you're afraid of making the wrong decision.

Those experiences don't mean you're failing at transition. They mean you're in transition.

The invitation isn't to make all of those feelings disappear. It's to learn how to pay attention to them, understand what they're telling you, reconnect with what matters most, and keep moving forward with openness and intention.

Over the course of this series, that's really where we've been. We've explored resistance and what it might be revealing. We've considered how clarity often grows as we move. We've talked about recovering choice and agency when transition feels forced upon us. And we've looked beneath the fear of getting it wrong so we can make decisions with greater freedom.

None of that makes transition easy. But it can help us navigate it well.

And perhaps that's a healthier measure of transition—not how quickly we get through it or how confidently we handle every step, but whether we're becoming more attentive, more intentional, and more open to what God may be doing in us along the way.

Coaching Question

Instead of asking, "When will I finally get through this transition?" what might change if you asked, "How is this transition inviting me to grow?"

If you're navigating a significant transition, you don't have to rush your way through it or figure everything out on your own. Sometimes what we need most is a framework for understanding what's happening, space to listen to ourselves and God, and practical tools for taking the next faithful step.

-Tim

P.S. That's exactly why I created my Navigating Transition workshop on September 22. We'll bring many of the ideas from this series together into a practical, interactive experience designed to help you understand where you are in transition, identify what matters most, and move forward with greater clarity, confidence, and purpose. If this series has resonated with you, I'd love to have you join me.