We all need an excellent coach. I have had many amazing coaching and mentoring experiences in my life. When I was younger, the coaches were primarily with my involvement with sports. Some of my sports coaches were great at bringing out the best in me and others. Other coaches did not have the right acumen for this role and impeded the growth and development of players, including myself. Being good at something does not make you an excellent coach. And, as Atul Gawande explains in detail, excelling at something does not mean you have reached your potential. Why not be the best you can be?
When I began my journey as a social worker and counselor, my supervisors became interested in me and improved my skill set. They simultaneously pushed me beyond my perceived limitations while supporting my work. Many coaches ASSUME that you either have to push somebody hard or take their hand and gently guide them. A good coach seamlessly and instinctively knows when and how to apply each strategy. A good coach knows your strengths and obstacles to success and is willing to manage the resistance that the ego will place in the way as a hindrance. Generally speaking, the ego is the greatest obstacle to sustained growth and development. The ego may express itself as overconfidence or lack of confidence. They both are an imbalance of humility.
...
“Pride is concerned with who is right. Humility is concerned with what is right.” Ezra Taft Benson
Spiritual Training on Humility: The Janitor Part I
It was the Winter of 1993-1994. I had only once visited the Tibetan Buddhist Learning Center, Labsum Shedrup Ling, in Washington, New Jersey. A good friend and I decided we’d spend New Year's together on a retreat at the center. The retreat focused on The Buddhist Lineage, which I had no idea what that meant upon arrival. Before I dive in, I would like to mention that I knew very little about Buddhism or Tibetan Buddhism in general when we signed up to take part; my friend did. I just knew that I had an Inner Connection with Buddhism.
The first time I noticed
him was during the first shared meal. He sat somewhat distant from most guests, but I could tell he lived there. He wore plain grey pants and a shirt that most janitors wear. He seemed almost disinterested in the events and happenings around him. The man appeared to be enjoying his meal as if content and grateful just to be there. The first thought I had while watching him was, "WOW! If this is what their janitors are like, I can't wait to see the monks! I am definitely going to become a Buddhist." He helped clean up as if he does it every day, and part of what he does there. He showed people where to find things as a typical worker would do at any place else. But there was something very different about
this janitor. He was so simple and radiant in his way of being, smiling simply but beautifully with a rare sincerity. I noticed myself staring and observing him beyond what is socially acceptable, but I couldn't stop myself. He was special in a way that I had not known before. I was in awe of how this man carried himself and the Inner contentment that was his being. I remember thinking, "Where do they find janitors like this in Tibet?" Oh yeah, I forgot to mention, he was an older Tibetan man, possibly in his sixties, with those facial features that only men and women that have walked this earth for a while and have learned more than the rest of us express. The lines on their faces seem deeper and richer, as if each one is telling a story.
...
... 
