Silence is not peace.
“I just want peace and quiet when I come home” he said, his frustration evident in the tone of his words and the contracted muscles on his face. “Is that too much to ask after having been gone all week?”
I could tell he was angry, but I also knew that I couldn’t leave him at this point in the discussion. No matter what he thought of me, or said to me, I had to push forward and try to help him move from where he was stuck, and into a better place.
Coaching is like that sometimes, walking a delicate balance on a tightrope you can’t always see, and where someone is often moving the rope without your consent.
“What does peace feel like to you” I asked, hoping that there was a small place in his heart for an honest answer.
He looked at me like I was an idiot, and then taking a deep breath, he explained it to me this way. “I don’t want anyone bugging me about what I could do to be better.
Not the kids, not my wife, not anyone at church. I just want to be left in peace, and not have anyone saying anything I don’t want to hear”.
“So I’m confused” I replied, although I wasn’t, but I wanted to set up the next question very carefully, because if I was going to really help him, he would have to accept a truth that would be very hard for him to take.
“Help me understand, do you want silence or do you want peace?”.
“They’re the same thing” he fired back, his scorn evident as his temper was beginning to flare. I knew now it was time to gamble the entire coaching relationship in one move.
It’s like going ‘all in’ on a hand of poker, but instead of money, it was our relationship and my ability to help him, which was far more important to me.
I looked him straight in the eyes, and spoke very quietly, in measured tones. “No they are not. Silence is what occurs around you, but peace is what you carry within you”.
He startled, and a small glimmer of hope flared in my heart. Was he going to make the jump, and find himself in a new world of understanding, or would he shut down, retreating into the safety of his anger and ego.
His next response would tell me where we were headed.
“Then it’s me who doesn’t understand” he replied, with the pain he was carrying now etched across his face. “How do I know when I’m at peace, if it’s not the absence of noise or someone bugging me?”
I breathed a silent sigh of relief. He was making the jump, now I just had to guide him into a safe landing. “When there is silence around you, and no one is bugging you, do you feel a calm quiet resonance in your soul? Can you sit quietly, without needing an outside stimulus to divert you from the thoughts that plague you?”.
He sat quietly, but obviously not peacefully, until he gave me a single word of reply.
“No.”
His shoulders dropped, his breathing slowed, and his head hung down. The truth was going to set him free, but first it was going to hurt.
“Thank you” I said quietly, honoring the courage that it took to share that truth with me. I smiled at him and gently gave hope to his battered soul.
“Now we can begin to help you heal”.
— Dr. Alan Barnes
@maddrbmusings