When I think about all the stupid decisions I’ve made in my life, I get a little queasy. I mean, at the end of the day, I’m the one steering this ship? Who in the H-E-double-hockey-sticks thought that was a good idea?! If I—someone who has spent 25 years teaching narrative coaching—still have moments of sheer panic at the realization that I am the only one responsible for the trajectory of my life, imagine how our clients feel when they wake up to this truth for the first time.
It’s the ultimate cosmic joke: we crave control, but the moment we realize we actually have it, we start looking around for the nearest adult to handle things. Wait—there’s no manager to call? No "life concierge" to file my complaints? Just me? Fantastic.
I’ve spent decades sitting with this reality, and some days, it still feels overwhelming and all-consuming. And yet—on the days it doesn’t? WOW. I feel liberated. Powerful. Maybe even a little smug. I want to put up a giant billboard listing all my failures with a flashing marquee underneath that reads:
"Relax, people! Those were just trial runs. Buckle up—NOW I’m ready for the big leagues!"
Helping Clients Unpack the Weight of Control
If we, as coaches, feel this burden of control, how do you think our clients feel? Some are just starting to explore their own agency, and let’s be honest—it’s terrifying. The weight of possibility can feel crushing if not handled with care.
That’s where we come in. Not to rescue them, but to ease the weight by shifting how we approach the moment. Instead of letting them spiral into self-judgment or feel stuck in conclusions about their past, we invite them into radical curiosity—the kind that doesn’t demand immediate answers but welcomes exploration.
Our job isn’t to hand them a neatly packaged five-step plan for destiny domination. It’s to help them get playful with possibility, to see the stories they’ve told themselves, and—when needed—to help them rewrite the script. Because let’s face it, most of us are terrible authors when we write under stress.
Creative Exploration > Crippling Expectation
So how do we help our clients navigate the absurdity of their own control without completely freaking them out? We:
Invite them into creative exploration—sketch, journal, act it out, anything that gets them unstuck.
Ditch judgment—theirs and ours. This isn’t a courtroom.
Resist the urge to jump to conclusions—about what they “should” do or why they “always” do something.
Stay radically curious—because let’s be real, life is far too unpredictable for certainty.
At the end of the day, none of us have this perfectly figured out—not even those of us who have been doing it for decades. But we don’t need to have all the answers. We just need to show up differently—for ourselves and for our clients. Because when we do, we remind them (and ourselves) that control isn’t a punishment, it’s a privilege—one that feels a lot lighter when we carry it with a little humor, a lot of curiosity, and maybe even a well-placed billboard or two.
So, who’s ready to step up to the big leagues?
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