March 21, 2023

Leaders Die, Too

By Ken Giglio, Principal of Mindful Leadership

This is a work of fiction. All characters and events in this post are used in a fictitious manner, with the intent of providing a learning experience.

Death is an unexpected topic for any conversation. It can be especially unnerving in a professional setting. So, when my executive coaching client, Alex, a C-Suite leader for a global company, started out his biweekly session with, “I want to talk about death,” my mind raced. Is Alex terminally ill? Is he contemplating suicide? Is he mentally ill? What is my ethical responsibility here? Who do I tell in his organization that he’s bringing death up in coaching? Or do I need to?

I take pride in having trained myself over 22 years of coaching to keep calm and centered during coaching sessions. I keep my face relaxed and hold a welcoming, listening posture when my clients exhibit edgy emotions, share unexpected news, or, my favorite, test me to see how I’ll react. My approach mostly works well.

Was Alex testing me, and why would he? We’ve been working together for almost a year. Our relationship is solid, a true working partnership, with the right level of intimacy to unearth and shape what he needs as a leader.

I steadied my mind and felt the tension in my body rise up and knot right below my Adam’s apple. I asked Alex, “Where is this desire to talk about death coming from?”

Alex: Well, first Ken, it’s clear this topic surprised you and makes you uncomfortable. I noticed how you swallowed hard twice and shifted in your chair. Funny thing that your coaching on how to be observant of others’ body language can turn against you.

Ken: Thanks, Alex, for being so observant. Well-played. Back to my question about where this interest in death is coming from.

Alex: I just turned 53 and don’t buy this middle age crap. I highly doubt I’ll live until I’m 106. So, while there is time, I want to take a closer look at my life and prepare for my death and what might come after.

Ken: I’d like to pause before we dive deeper into this conversation, because I’m compelled and ethically bound to ask a few questions.

Alex: Fire away.

Ken: What has changed recently that makes talking about death important to you?

Alex: I’m not terminally ill if that’s where you’re going. In fact, I’m healthier than I’ve been in years.

Ken: Good to know you are healthy. Have you talked to others about death, including a therapist?

Alex: Yes, I’ve talked to my wife, who says I’m morbid and need to be more positive. I told her I am being positive by not avoiding talking about death. I got nowhere; she won’t engage me on the topic. I spoke with my daughter, who is away at college, and she said I’m going through an existential crisis, and that she’s been there herself. She recommended a French novel by Camus, I think, and promised to discuss it all during her semester break. Also, as you know, I paused my therapy a few months back with the therapist’s blessing, and, yes, we talked about death and my death in particular. He said to process the fact of our death is healthy, but to obsess could be a sign of not wanting to be here. We agreed I want to be alive.

Ken: Thanks. Sounds like you’ve been busy exploring what death means to you at this point in your life. How did I make it onto your list to discuss this topic?

Alex: You’re a good listener, and the closest thing I have right now to a therapist.

Ken: Thanks for the compliment and for distinguishing me from a therapist. As we agreed at the beginning of our work together, I’m here as a coach to focus on the here and now, and how you are evolving into the future as a person and developing as a leader within your organization. We look at the past for insight and understanding as to why you think and act like you do but don’t stay there. Therapists explore in depth what has already happened and why.

Now you mentioned preparing for death and what comes after it. Did I hear that right?

Alex: I’m not thinking about death because I’m worried about some afterlife.

Ken: So, you are not worried about an afterlife. What are you worried about?

Alex: I’ll get to my worries in a minute. First, I want to know what you believe about an afterlife.

Ken: What I believe is neither here nor there. It’s what you believe, or worry about, that I believe could be a good focus for our coaching conversation.

Alex: Humor me. What do you believe?

Ken: When you die, everyone you’ve ever loved who has passed on ahead of you will be waiting to greet you with hugs and kindness. They will show you around because things will be very different on the other side of this life, in the next life.

Alex: That’s what you believe?

Ken: That’s what we told our five-year-old niece when her grandmother died. It settled her, and now that I hear myself say it, I’m settled. So, yes, right now that’s what I believe. Let’s get back to you and your worries about death.

Alex: Thanks for sharing that story. I’m sorry about your niece’s grandmother – your sister?

Ken: Thank you. No, my wife’s sister. You said you’d get back to your worries.

Alex: I’m not really worried about the way I’ll die, and I’m not worried about an afterlife. My worries are more about how I’m living life before I die.

Ken: How would you like to live your life?

Alex: The first thing that comes to mind is I’d like to spend more time with my son. I’d also like to re-engage with my team and use you to coach us as you did earlier this year. I want to vision forward what needs to be done for the business. We need a breakthrough.

Ken: Worthy goals. You know, Alex, I’m sensing there is something nagging at you that is bringing up this focus on death. Perhaps some fear or a need to let go of something. Just my hunch. How does that land with you?

Alex hung his head and went quiet. When he looked up and started speaking, I could see tears welling in his eyes.

Alex: I’ve talked with you a little bit about my son and for untold hours with my therapist. He tried to kill himself again last week.

Alex again hung his head, and this time he stayed quiet for several minutes. When he looked up, I surprised myself by breaking the silence and talking first.

Ken: This must be hard for you right now. How is he doing?

Alex: He’s stable and in good hands.

Ken: Glad to hear. Please contact your therapist to process all this. It’s a lot to carry. Will you make a commitment to do that?

Alex: Yes, yes, it’s a good idea.

Ken: How are you doing right now? I know you have another meeting shortly.

Alex: I’m struggling to focus and be present, but I’m ok. He’s alive, and that’s what matters the most. When he almost died, it was my life that flashed before my eyes. Hard to understand. I feel there is so much more I must do.

Ken: I wonder if what you said earlier about spending more time with your son is enough to do for now.

Alex: Yes, of course it is. I have to let go of the idea that all will be well when it’s not. My therapist calls it surrendering to life because we can’t control what happens.

Ken: Letting go and surrendering are hard to do for all of us. The poet Stanley Kunitz talked about letting go by saying we experience “little deaths” everyday as we realize life will often not be what we expect or want. To him, these little deaths prepare us to give birth to what’s next in our lives.

Alex: I like the idea of little deaths leading to something new versus pressuring myself to fulfill bucket list items before I die. With all that’s going on with my son and here at work, I feel like a weight has been lifted from my shoulders.

Ken: Sounds like you are feeling lighter. Where are you now with your upfront desire to talk about death?

Alex: I feel like I’ve released some of my fear about death, especially the death of my son. So, I’m letting go I guess, which means I can also say I died a little today. The question is still what’s next?

Ken: What’s next is a good question to end on, ok?

Alex: Yes, ok. Thank you.

After Alex exited the room, I felt a release of tension. I realized in that moment that the most important thing I could do as a coach was to simply listen deeply and be there with him in the space as a caring presence. Our conversation about death also surfaced for me the need to be mindful of my own fears and to manage them in real time when coaching clients bring up the unexpected. Navigating any coaching conversation, to me, means letting go of what I think needs to happen in service of what wants to happen from the client’s perspective. I’m struck by the fact that Alex and I were both afraid at the start of the session, and by the end of our time together we were both more at ease and open to what’s next.