By three methods we may learn wisdom: First, by reflection, which is noblest; Second, by imitation, which is easiest; and third by experience, which is the bitterest.
— Confucius
After years of coaching, I can usually explain why I asked a particular question, left a silence or offered a reflection. I know what I intended. I can also revisit the feelings that emerged during the session and consider what they might tell me about our work.
The other person’s experience still surprises me - and I welcome the suprise.
We are currently receiving feedback through MOZAIC, EMCC Romania’s global reciprocal mentoring programme. This edition’s feedback has brought the question of “How did it land?” into focus for me again.
A question I barely remember asking might be the one someone carried away. A pause that felt ordinary to me might have given them room to go deeper. I can reflect carefully on a conversation and still miss the part that only the other person can describe.
This is one reason I value journalling, and why I recognise its limits. A journal helps me preserve an experience, notice my reactions and question my choices. It cannot independently tell me how someone else experienced working with me.
A recent paper on reflective practice by de Condé and colleagues explores this issue in psychotherapy. The authors acknowledge that reflection can reinforce bias and create an illusion of insight. They argue that it is more likely to support development when informed by theory, external feedback and dialogue, with opportunities to test and revise our interpretations. Reflecting does not, by itself, guarantee that we understand an experience accurately.
Although the paper focuses on psychotherapy, it raises a question I find relevant to coaching, mentoring and supervision: what helps us question the story we have formed about our own work?
For me, one answer is specific feedback.
When I ask clients and mentees about our work together, I want to understand what stayed with them. What helped? What felt less useful? What might they “steal with pride” and bring into their own life or practice? Was there something they needed that we did not address?
Their answers give me something to place alongside my own reflections. They can reveal a contribution I underestimated or challenge an intervention I thought had been helpful.
This feedback offers a perspective on their experience. It does not, on its own, establish the effectiveness of my practice. Its value lies in helping me examine my assumptions and consider what I might need to develop.
I see a similar opportunity in leadership. When leaders I work with seek feedback from the people affected by their decisions, they gain perspectives that reflection alone, or conversations with peers, may not provide. This can open up learning for both the leader and the team.
For that to happen, people need enough safety to speak honestly, including when their experience differs from the leader’s intention.
Feedback also needs careful interpretation. It can be partial, shaped by relationships or difficult to express. I try to hold it as information to explore, rather than a verdict on who I am. The learning comes from considering different perspectives and noticing where my own explanation needs to change.
This week, choose one conversation, session or decision and ask the person affected: “What was useful, and what could I have done differently?”
Then return to your journal. What does their answer help you see that your own reflection did not?
