There is a moment in coaching that looks like nothing.
By: Dawn Issac - Black Dog Consultants
The client pauses.
Looks away.
Says, ‘I don’t know.’
Or says nothing at all.
That is usually when the coach feels the itch.
Ask another question. Fill the silence. Help. Rescue. Move things along.
But what if the most useful thing is to stay still?
Coaching is often described as helping others grow. Expanding thinking. Shifting behaviour. Finding a way forward when the path has gone foggy.
In my previous Ahead of the Pack article, Stop treating coaching like a perk for the elite, I explored why coaching should not be reserved for senior leaders and high-potential talent.
This time, I want to turn the spotlight around.
Because coaching is not only about the person sitting opposite us. It is also about the person doing the listening.
A coach may arrive with experience, training, qualifications and well-practised questions.
All of that matters.
But the most influential thing a coach brings into the conversation is not a model or a tool.
It is themselves.
Their attention. Their assumptions. Their energy. Their ability to stay curious when the client’s story does not make immediate sense. Their willingness to stay present when the conversation becomes emotional, messy or uncertain.
That can feel like a big responsibility.
It is also what makes coaching such meaningful work.
We cannot ask someone else to be brave while dodging our own discomfort. We cannot invite a client to question the story they have been telling themselves if we are unwilling to question our own. And we cannot create space for someone else to slow down, reflect and reset if we never give ourselves permission to do the same.
This is where the image of the phoenix feels useful.
A phoenix does not rise because it has never been burned. It rises because it has been changed by the fire.
The International Coaching Federation updated its Core Competencies in 2025(LINK), including sharper attention to mindset, bias, intuition, wellbeing and the influence of a coach’s own thoughts and behaviours.
In plain English: the coach is not a neutral bit of furniture in the room.
They affect the conversation.
So they need to keep doing their own work.
A useful coach knows they are not a finished product. They reflect on the conversations that stayed with them. They notice the moments when they felt impatient, distracted or too invested in a particular outcome. They seek feedback. They make time to learn, to rest and to be coached themselves.
This may not look dramatic from the outside.
No one applauds the coach who pauses to notice their own assumptions before asking the next question. There is no fanfare when someone chooses curiosity over certainty.
Yet those small moments can change everything.
Imagine a client describing a difficult colleague.
It is easy for a coach to quietly decide who is right and who is wrong. The coach may never say it. But the client can often feel it. The conversation can then become less about insight and more about being agreed with.
Now imagine something else.
The coach notices their reaction and lets it go. They become curious instead.
They ask, ‘What might that situation look like from the other person’s perspective?’
Suddenly, the client has more room to think.
A stuck story begins to loosen.
That is not about having the perfect question.
It is about doing the inner work required to ask it with genuine openness.
It is tempting to think confidence in coaching means always knowing what to do next.
Often, the opposite is true.
Confidence can mean staying with the silence rather than rushing to rescue it.
It can mean admitting internally, ‘I am not sure where this is going’, and trusting the client’s capacity to find their own way.
It can mean noticing a change in tone, a long pause or an unexpected burst of emotion, then being brave enough to gently explore it.
It can also mean noticing when we are not at our best.
Perhaps we have had a difficult day. Perhaps our thoughts are elsewhere. Perhaps we are carrying stress that makes it harder to listen with the care the client deserves.
Being a good coach does not mean ignoring that reality.
It means taking responsibility for it.
Looking after our own wellbeing is not separate from the work. It is part of the work.
When we are grounded, we listen differently. We become less concerned with proving our expertise and more able to offer real attention. We stop trying to steer the client towards the answer we think they need and create the conditions for them to discover what matters most.
The phoenix is not a symbol of perfection. It is a symbol of renewal.
For coaches, renewal may be quiet. It may be a supervision session that reveals a blind spot. It may be feedback that stings a little before it helps. It may be recognising that an old approach no longer serves the people we work with.
It may simply be taking the time to restore our energy so we can arrive properly for the next conversation.
None of this is flashy. All of it matters.
As coaching continues to grow, it is worth remembering that the quality of any coaching conversation depends not only on what a coach does, but on how willing they are to keep learning, noticing and evolving.
The question is not whether coaches will make mistakes, have assumptions or experience difficult days.
We will.
The better question is:
What will we do when we notice?
At Black Dog Consultants, we don’t think development ends when the certificate lands in your inbox. That’s often where the real work starts.
So whether you are a coach, a leader or someone who supports other people’s growth, perhaps this is a question worth sitting with:
What do you need to let go of in order to show up more fully for others?
Sometimes, the next version of ourselves begins there.
And if you want coaching or leadership development that survives contact with Monday, come and talk to us.