Flowers come in stony places

“I have seen flowers come in stony places
And kind things done by men with ugly faces,
And the gold cup won by the worst horse at the races,
So I trust, too.”

John Masefield

Reading this poem for the first time, you might be forgiven for thinking that there is a degree of naivety in the writing. I remember memorising the lines in my early years at school, regarding it as an encouragement for persistent optimism and hope under all circumstances, however difficult. How realistic my interpretation was (and the optimist in me wanted to believe it was realistic) is a matter of debate, or maybe maturity.

The poem came to mind again the other day, as I was clearing the inevitable grass and weeds from my drive.

Among the clumps of meadow grass, clover and crouch, a poppy had appeared unpredictably: scarlet and bright in the morning’s cloudy dullness and buffeted by a keen wind. This triggered a mental burst of latent John Masefield carved deep out of the memory banks, but more importantly prompted a reflection of the importance of optimism in our regular daily thought processes.

Quite obviously a degree of optimism is necessary for any forward-looking plan or desire for change. Why else bother to invest energy and focus on a plan, if there is no optimism that the result will be positive?

In this regard the process of coaching could be described as an exercise in optimism – the desire for, and pursuit of positive future change. Coaching is a commitment to an optimistic future state. Additionally, coaching as an activity asks us not to interpret or make assumptions and, in my view, it is this desirable lack of pre-judgement which, is key to Masefield’s intent in the poem “An Epilogue”.

We assume no flowers will thrive in arid, stony environments; we assume that ugly things have no capacity for beauty or kindness. We typecast and assign to categories, either through unconscious bias or conscious discrimination. We fall into the trap of defining the framework for potential outcomes, before exploring openly the possibilities for change. Or put another way, we write the epilogue before reading the novel.

It requires a degree of risk taking to remain open to possibility without judgement.

By opening up outcomes to unpredictability, we risk not having the personal capabilities or bandwidth to respond. Such unpredictability therefore offers both great reward and great challenge (loss), a challenge, which may ask us to dive deep into our own self-construct. Maybe this is why the last line of the poem speaks of trust. Trust in what, or in whom, is not specified. Perhaps this also recognises that for each individual, our ability to trust and where we place that trust varies, leaving that premise too, open to possibility, exploration and change.