In Part 1, we explored how patience, curiosity, and safety can allow an animal—or a human—to reveal their full self. We saw how behavior under stress isn't a fixed identity, and how presence and belief can transform outcomes.
In this installment, we shift from observation to introspection. What does it actually take to build confidence? And what well-intended advice might be quietly eroding it?
We’re embarking on a journey in this three-part series: from animal fostering to positive psychology, from Greek mythology to quantum physics. You might be wondering what all of these things have to do with confidence, compassion, and the power of perception. I assure you: they’re all connected.
Let’s begin with two stories about real cats. (We’ll get to Schrödinger’s hypothetical feline later.)
"It’s just easier if I do it myself."
This is a common refrain that comes up with my coaching clients, whether I’m working with an overwhelmed parent, a startup founder, or a C-suite leader. Most of us don’t think of ourselves as micromanagers or needing control. We just care and want things done well. In many cases, we’ve been burned before. Perhaps we have a pile of evidence that we can’t or shouldn’t rely on others. How often have we heard the tired cliché (often attributed to Napoléon Bonaparte*): “If you want a thing done well, do it yourself.”
In Part 1 of this series, we explored the myriad benefits of a coaching culture and how it creates a ripple effect throughout an organization. In Part 2, we explore the “how” of implementing and embedding a coaching culture within your organization.
I watched my boss hurriedly hit the mute button. We were onboard a floating production storage and offloading (FPSO), floating in the Atlantic Ocean, and dialed into a large international call with operations leaders from around the world.
“Welp, I messed that one up! Yikes.” He chuckled and shook his head. I stood by his desk, transfixed, watching in awe as he let his faux pas roll right off his back.
When asked what my greatest strength is, I can answer quickly. It’s curiosity. This is also one of the core values I hold dear to my heart. As a child, my curiosity was a double-edged sword. I took apart things that couldn’t be put back together again. I found myself in trees that I couldn’t quite climb down from. I asked far more questions than my Sunday School teachers would have preferred. My bug and rock collection rivaled small museum installations. Perhaps my parents thought it would wear off with childhood, but it turns out that my curiosity was there to stay.
