Dear Diary,

In the early sessions of Cohort 1, I kept returning to one reminder, "guide, don’t drive."

I wanted the teams to succeed. When a problem statement would not quite come together, or progress seemed painfully slow, the temptation was to step in with an answer. Surely helping meant getting things moving?

Learning to hold back was harder than I expected. I had to practise asking a question and giving the team room to work through it. To listen without immediately correcting. To accept that developing people might take longer than completing a task.

The teams gave me plenty of opportunities to practise.

One would arrive eager to learn, with updates to discuss and responsibilities shared. Another would remain quiet despite repeated attempts to make contact. I could finish a week encouraged by one team and deeply uncertain about another. Was I asking the right questions? Had I reached out enough? What else could I do?

By the halfway point, excitement and anxiety were travelling together. My confidence was growing, but so was my awareness of how much coaching required. There were work and home responsibilities to balance, meetings to arrange and concepts I was still learning myself. Leading from behind sometimes felt especially difficult when all I wanted was a little forward movement.

Then a team would surprise us.

An A3 project document would be updated beyond expectations. Members who had been difficult to engage would begin showing up. A team’s willingness to learn would rekindle a coach’s enthusiasm. These moments brought relief—and a reminder that progress did not always follow the pace I had set in my own mind.

In our sessions together, other coaches shared similar struggles. Hearing them helped loosen the feeling that I should somehow have figured this out alone. We exchanged practical advice, reviewed projects and asked for help. Alongside the teams’ growth, I began to recognise our own.

As the reflections move into Cohort 2, the familiar reminder to guide rather than drive is still there. But another practice comes into sharper focus. Noticing.

I am learning to pay attention to what happens around the words. Who speaks readily? Who remains quiet? What might a change in tone or expression be telling me? Giving everyone a chance to contribute takes intention, especially when one voice carries the discussion. So does pausing to understand someone before deciding why they are not participating.

That attention also turns inward. I need to recognise when frustration is shaping my response. Patience is easier to talk about than to practise after another unanswered message.

And the practical difficulties remain. Dashboard access, unreliable connections, competing schedules and strikes all affect participation. Some teams struggle to get started; others lose momentum. Growing experience does not make these obstacles disappear.

This is where the questions become harder. How do I remain understanding while holding a team accountable? When is another gentle reminder useful, and when is support from a sponsor needed? How do I help without gradually taking over?
There are no tidy answers in these diary pages. There are requests for guidance, honest admissions of discouragement and renewed attempts to connect. Even coaches need someone to check in on them.

Looking across both cohorts, I can see a change in what I ask of myself. The urgency to help is still there, but I am learning to make room for curiosity, shared responsibility and the team’s own understanding.

Some teams are moving. Others remain hard to reach. I feel encouraged, stretched and, at times, tired. Yet I keep learning from the people I am here to support.

Across these two cohorts, coaching has become a lesson in patience, self-awareness and shared responsibility. I began with an urgency to help teams move forward; along the way, I have learned to listen more closely, make room for their discoveries and ask for support myself.

The journey remains uneven. Pride sits alongside frustration, and growing confidence does not erase uncertainty. Still, I am learning to recognise progress without overlooking what remains difficult.

I set out to support others through improvement. These reflections remind me how much I, too, am changing.