Understanding Human Psychology

  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.