Sometimes we just need to pause and breathe. Breathe slow, breathe steady, breathe deeply. Notice the feeling of fresh air coming in and the release of old air going out. Notice with each breath we’re alive, we’re present, we’re here. This simple act is quite remarkable. Grounding. Levelling. Calming. And then breathe some more.

When we learn an approach like Motivational Interviewing, we become comfortable asking “How ready is this person for change?” But how often do we stop and ask ourselves “How ready am I for this person?” 

So often we are trying to have meaningful conversations with a head full of distractions. What we plan to say next, our fears, our hopes, the ongoing assessment of risk. The last appointment, the next appointment, our manager asking us to “pop into their office when we have a minute’. The targets, the documenting, the awareness that any or all of this could end up in a court case. The lack of sleep, the argument we just had with our partner, the sick parent. The lack of housing, the discontinuation of that support program, global crises. It can all take us away from being truly present.

It helps to have strategies for when we catch ourselves drifting. Reorient into our body and senses. Remember our intention. Reconnect with the human in front of us. Acknowledge the lapse and rewind the conversation a moment. 

And perhaps it is what we do in the five minutes before the conversation starts that might really make a difference. In the gym we warm up before our workout. We start our piano practice with scales. We wash or chop the ingredients before we start to cook. The preparation helps us to be ready to move into more complex skills. 

Losing focus is normal, it’s human, it will happen. We can also make room for the other person to be distracted by their own world of competing priorities and pressures. And drawing on the wisdom of Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh, we can simply try to “smile, breathe and go slowly.” 

Conversations about change take many unexpected turns, including what seem like dead ends or uncertainty about where to go next. The ability to be present, hold the space and truly partner with the other person as a co-pilot supports us to navigate these moments.

It also helps to know our back-up dancers – solid, generalisable, open questions that can be dropped into a wide range of conversations, without feeling forced or derailing the other person’s train of thought. They’re also a good alternative when we are burning to dive into advice or problem-solving.

Go to questions can help us structure common situations. For example, when we first meet someone, we can ask “What’s your understanding of what’s happening?” or “How do you feel about coming in here?”

Stepping stone questions allow us to follow a thread. For example, if the person gives us a reason for change, we can ask “And why does that matter to you?” And keep going. So exercise might be about having more energy, more energy might be about being there for family, and being there for family might be about connection. Now exercise is not simply sensible, it’s about love.

Check in questions do a broad sweep to locate where we are and recalibrate as needed. For example, if we’re wondering if it’s time to move on, we can ask “What have we missed?” or “What haven’t I asked that might also be important here?”

One of my favourite back-up dancers is the hypothetical question. It’s a lovely way to open up possibility without pressure. For example, “Let’s say it’s a year’s time and you’ve made this change. What might feel good about that?” Or “What’s most likely to have made you decide to make the change?” Or “How are you most likely to have been successful?”

Different roles and different conversations will suit different back-up dancers. But if you know who’s waiting in the wings, it’s easier to invite them into the arena when they would be most helpful.

We live in a culture that glorifies big – big news, big achievements, big reactions alongside the big houses, cars, salaries and titles. Whispers come back from those who achieve the biggest things that maybe it didn’t change that much for them but the drive for more rolls on. And if you’re in a helping role, chances are the big things are not that common. Problems aren’t perfectly resolved, housing isn’t suddenly affordable and your own bank balance is still looking pretty lean.

If we’re too focused on the big, we can miss the small for both ourselves and others. Yet the small is where the real depth often lies. They are the individual beats and notes that make the music of our lives.

It might be a sensation – the sight of a playful puppy, the first smell of spring, a wholehearted hug, a friend’s laughter, an apricot that tastes like an apricot. Or an emotion that fills us from within like an overflowing cup. Or a moment of connection – of seeing and being seen, a comfortable silence, a shared hope. Or a memory that lets us relive that experience all over again.

When we tune into these moments, the spaces between the big things becomes a richer landscape. And when we support others to do the same, we reinforce the safety net the holds and replenishes them as they navigate the challenges of their lives.