Understanding Human Psychology

Have you ever noticed how easy it is to talk to someone who truly listens? It’s like looking into a mirror and seeing yourself clearly. I once had a friend who never opened up about his struggles, always brushing things off with a joke. One evening, instead of laughing along, I simply said, “I feel like you’re carrying something heavy. I’m here if you want to talk.” He paused, then finally shared what had been weighing on him for months. People open up when they feel reflected, not interrogated. When they sense that you’re not just hearing their words, but truly seeing them. Being a good listener isn’t just about silence—it’s about making the other person feel safe enough to speak.

  Imagine planting a seed and expecting a tree to grow overnight. Absurd, right? Yet, when we meet people, we sometimes expect them to trust us immediately. But trust, like a plant, needs time to take root. I once had a coaching client who barely spoke in the first few sessions. He answered in short phrases, careful not to reveal too much. I didn’t force him to talk. Instead, I nurtured the conversation, just like a gardener cares for a seed. I asked open-ended questions, gave him space, and reassured him that there was no rush. And one day, he started talking. He shared what was truly bothering him, and from that moment on, our conversations flourished. It reminded me that trust isn’t built overnight. It grows when given the right environment—patience, care, and understanding.

  A river doesn’t force its way through a mountain—it carves its path over time, with patience and persistence. That’s exactly how trust builds in coaching conversations. I remember a colleague at one of my previous workplaces who rarely spoke about personal matters. Every conversation was surface-level, guarded. I never pushed. Instead, I simply showed up—listening, sharing, and being present. One day, unexpectedly, he started opening up. What changed? She knew she wouldn’t be judged. People open up at their own pace. Just as a river flows steadily, trust grows when there’s space to be heard. You don’t need to force it. Just be there, and when they’re ready, they’ll flow into the conversation naturally. I usually tend to practice this by telling my coaching client to just let the conversation take shape on its own and allow the space.

  Have you ever stood in front of a locked door, unsure if you have the right key? That’s exactly how trust works in conversations, especially those of coaching. People don’t just open up because you ask them to. They need to feel safe, heard, and respected. In coaching, I’ve seen this play out many times. A client walks in, guarded and hesitant, unsure if they can truly share what’s on their mind. But the moment they realize I’m not here to judge—just to listen—something shifts. Like a door slightly ajar, they let me in, little by little. The key? Open-ended questions. Instead of asking, “Are you struggling at work?” I ask, “What’s been the biggest challenge for you lately?” It gives them the space to explore their own thoughts, rather than shutting the conversation down with a yes or no. Trust is not demanded; it’s earned. And the right words—like the right key—can make all the difference.

  As Women's Day approaches, I find myself reflecting on the profound stories of resilience and strength that shape our society. Recently, I was deeply moved by a speech from Mrs. Smriti Irani, Actress and Former Minister of Women and Child Development, Indian Government. In her address, she recounted the hardships faced by her mother, herself, and her two sisters. They were compelled to leave their home because her mother couldn't bear a male child—a stark reminder of the deep-seated gender biases that have plagued our culture. Mrs. Irani's narrative is not just a personal account but a reflection of the challenges many women have endured. It prompts me to question: Despite our celebrations of Women's Day, have we truly eradicated these biases from our hearts and society? While such incidents might seem like relics of the past, I wonder if, in certain corners of our world, girls are still made to feel inferior, their potential unfairly measured against that of boys. ...

The other day, I was talking to my husband about how different school was when we were kids. Back then, teachers weren’t just authority figures—they were almost untouchable. We respected them, but there was also a sense of fear, a rigid boundary between us and them. You didn’t question a teacher, you followed instructions, and education was largely about memorization rather than understanding. But now, when I look at my child’s experience in school, it’s a completely different world. Teachers today are warm, approachable, and deeply invested in a child’s emotional well-being. Many of them feel like second mothers and fathers, offering support beyond academics. They encourage curiosity, creativity, and dialogue. Education itself has shifted—rote learning is being replaced with interactive methods that make concepts come alive. This shift makes me wonder about its impact on a child’s developing mind. Respect for teachers used to stem from a sense of authority, but now it comes from admir...

Many times in a coaching journey, I see a familiar look on my coachee’s face—the unspoken “Why is my coach telling me to take action?” They hear me say that certain actions will need to be taken, that we’ll evaluate them each time we meet—maybe once a fortnight, maybe once a month. And they wonder, Why? Won’t change just happen on its own? And honestly? They’re not wrong. Change will happen. Life moves forward, things shift, and we evolve—whether we plan for it or not. But here’s the thing: when you take action with intention, when you make purposeful choices instead of waiting for change to unfold on its own, you take control of your direction. That’s when you tap into your personal power—your ability to shape the outcome, rather than just being carried along by it. I often hear, “It will happen anyway.” Yes, it will. But wouldn’t you rather be the one steering the ship instead of drifting wherever the waves take you? Change is inevitable, but purposeful change is a choice. This doesn...

There is something magical about the space that forms in a coaching session. It’s not something tangible, yet the shift is almost immediate. A client walks in, sometimes guarded, sometimes unsure. And then, in what feels like an instant, the space transforms—trust takes root, and vulnerability follows. I’ve had so many moments where clients tell me, “I have never shared this with anyone before.” The first time it happened, I was taken aback. Now, I see it happen so often that I’ve come to deeply respect the power of coaching. There is something in the process, in the presence, in the way we hold space as coaches, that creates an environment where people feel seen, heard, and safe. It’s an honor, truly, to be the person on the other side of that conversation. To be trusted with thoughts, emotions, and stories that have been locked away for years. To witness the moment a realization dawns or the weight of long-held emotions finally lifts. It’s not just about asking the right questions; i...

  Ever noticed how tasks feel easier when you have a friend by your side? Science backs this up! A fascinating 2008 study from the University of Virginia explored this concept using a simple yet powerful experiment. Participants were asked to estimate the steepness of a hill, first alone and then with a friend standing next to them. The results? When people stood alone, they perceived the hill as steeper and more challenging. But with a friend by their side, the hill appeared less daunting. The longer they had known their friend, the less steep the hill seemed! ( https://uvamagazine.org/articles/jack_needs_jill_to_get_up_the_hill ) This study highlights an essential truth—having social support alters our perception of difficulty. It’s not just about emotional encouragement; our brain literally sees the challenge differently when we’re not facing it alone. No wonder workplace collaboration is such a game-changer! Working with colleagues whom you are comfortable with—those who ha...

For the longest time, I believed happiness was about personal achievements—hitting career milestones, buying things I loved, or having free time to relax. While these brought temporary joy, something always felt missing. Over time, I realized that the deepest, most lasting happiness comes from finding a purpose and using it to serve others. Purpose isn’t just about passion. It’s about impact. It’s that feeling of knowing that what you do makes a difference. When you align your skills, talents, and values with something larger than yourself, happiness takes on a different meaning. It stops being fleeting and becomes a steady presence in your life. Think of doctors who dedicate themselves to healing, teachers who shape young minds, or artists who inspire with their work. They don’t just do a job; they fulfill a purpose that improves the lives of others. And in return, they feel a profound sense of joy and fulfillment. I have seen this shift happen in people around me. A friend who tra...

I recently came across this quote by Daniel Gilbert (American social psychologist and writer): "We assume that what we feel as we imagine the future is what we’ll feel when we get there. But, in fact, what we feel as we imagine the future is often a response to what’s happening in the present." It made me pause. Oh yes, we all do this so often! We think about an upcoming event—a big presentation, a career change, a life milestone—and we already decide how we’ll feel about it. If we’re anxious today, we assume the future will be just as overwhelming. If we’re excited, we picture only success. But is that really how things work? It’s like standing on a hill, looking at a distant city. On a foggy day, the city looks gloomy and unclear. On a bright, sunny day, the same city appears warm and inviting. The city itself hasn’t changed—only the way we see it has. Similarly, when we imagine the future, we aren’t predicting reality; we are filtering it through our present emotions ...

I thought traveling with my child would be smooth—fun, even. I imagined picturesque moments, laughter, and seamless transitions. But reality? It was difficult . We don’t travel often, and when we did, my child wasn’t used to new places, new faces, or a shift from her familiar world. She withdrew, cried, threw tantrums. At first, I felt irritated, even embarrassed. I wanted this trip to be a break for me, but instead, I was navigating meltdowns in an unfamiliar setting. Yet, something shifted. Instead of holding onto frustration, I saw things through her eyes. Her world is built on routine—her grandparents, her school, her safe little bubble. Suddenly, she was in a different place with different people, and it was overwhelming. So, I adjusted. I found ways to make the trip enjoyable for her, offering little moments of familiarity amidst the newness. I carved out time just for her—watching her delight in a playground, get mesmerized by the waves by the beach, and find her rhythm in...