I was contacted to work with a small team at a budding business. Early in the build. Just starting to realize regular profits. Funds were hard-earned and limited. The group needed to operate at peak performance to earn every dollar spent on payroll. The owner had hand-picked each member. When I asked him to tell me about the team, he went person by person and cataloged the gifts he sees in each one. Talent by talent he named them and how they show up — as if they were his own. He paused and said, “I think I see it more clearly than they do.”

I was nodding my head wildly with fist pumping in the air. (Thank goodness it was a phone call and not video.) Yes. He gets it. He had me at help them see what I see.

*Details abstracted. The pattern is real; the person and team not identifiable to protect the confidential nature of coaching.*

It immediately reminded me of an activity I’d run at the end of multi-day sessions. Attendees selected strengths they felt they possessed from little slips of paper laid out around the room. Things like courageous, respectful, energetic, strategic, curious, creative, articulate, knowledgeable. They added the slips to a flat paper cutout of a superhero cape — a takeaway reminder to tap into those powers long after the session wrapped.

The first few rounds went fine. People politely picked a few traits, added them to their cape, and that was that.

One day toward the end of the activity, I walked over to a woman who was clearly struggling to choose her traits. I looked at the slips in front of us, picked one up, handed it to her, and said, “I’m surprised you didn’t gravitate to this one.”

She looked a little startled and said, “That one is not me . . .”

I gently pushed, encouraging her to take the slip. It was hers. She had exhibited the strength in spades during the days we’d spent together. I saw it. She couldn’t.

That moment reminded me that people often see positive traits in others more easily than they see their own. Most attendees were done selecting their strengths, so I asked them to add one more step. Return to the table. Select the strengths you see in the other people in the room. Then hand those slips to that person so they could add them to their cape. And boom. The energy shifted. Capes filled. The room was abuzz. (The type of beehive activity that has a facilitator wondering if they will ever get the group back.)

Once the exchanges were winding down, I asked each attendee to share a trait or two they’d been gifted. People were blown away by what others saw in them.

It was often met with, “I totally see that in you, too.” Crowd-sourced reinforcement in real time.

Others shared they’d been told they were too “this” or too “that.” Being gifted an associated strength turned a critique into a strength. Talking too much became articulate. Asking too many questions became curiosity. Being too tough became perseverance. What they’d been told to tone down was held up as a unique gift.

Tears flowed. Hugs followed. Realizations made. Connections forged.

I imagine you might be thinking this all sounds a bit hokey. Can an activity like this really have an impact? It did. It does.

I would typically stand quietly on the sidelines watching the activity unfold. (The best seat in the house to witness connections and revelations.) Inevitably I’d be handed a myriad of traits that attendees saw in me. Over time, I was “gifted” many of the same traits over and over. Moving the experience from a nice gesture to social proof.

To this day there are tattered little slips of paper tucked in my wallet. I refuse to throw them away. They remind me of what people saw. Qualities I might not have selected for myself. More meaningful than if I’d picked them on my own. Reinforcement to use the gifts.

Back to my work with the small but mighty team. When I asked each member why they thought they’d been chosen to join the build, none of them named the strengths the owner had. They spoke about strengths and talents, but different ones. Guiding them to see why they were chosen brought the owner’s view into focus. That focus informed their actions. Their collective actions strengthened the build.

Permission to develop in the ways they could be most impactful created a more cohesive team. They danced better together, knowing the other player was filling an important role. Mutual understanding and respect grew. In time, that becomes trust.

There was a residual impact for the owner, the team members, and the business. Each member knew how tight funds had been during the build. They were blown away that the owner was investing in their development. Their appreciation immense. Feeling valued buoyed them up. An investment that will pay unlimited dividends.

Seeing the potential in other people is powerful. Helping them realize and develop a better version of themselves is what gets me out of bed in the morning. That kind of metamorphosis never gets old. It’s as fascinating to me as a caterpillar becoming a butterfly. How is that even possible?

It is. What people often see is the beautiful butterfly — the polished version of success. They rarely consider the long, hidden time when the caterpillar was transforming.

The same is true when we look at successful people. It’s easy to assume they were lucky. Naturally gifted. That it was easier for them. Most successes are hard won. Most traits practiced and developed. Ask any of them, and somebody — maybe a few, if they were lucky enough — saw what was special in them before they could see it themselves.

Everyone can change. We can be lifelong learners. Excellence is earned. Top achievers are developed. Nature gifts us a few talents. Most of the rest get crafted through practice.

That change begins with the realization that there’s something there to work with. The ability to master it is theirs to hold. The belief that it is possible.

I’ve been gifted a front-row seat watching thousands of individuals on their journey to discover and use their strengths. Not everyone does. In fact, I’ve probably watched more people fail than succeed. The hardest part of the job. And the aspect of coaching that’s most misunderstood.

Who holds the power? A coach can’t do the work for a client. I provide the space and environment for that exploration to happen. The power resides with the client. They decide what transforms, and how.

If you sit in a seat where you witness other people’s strengths, remember the power of pointing them out. Bringing them into focus. Encouraging their use and development. Parents. Leaders. Coaches. Mentors. Teachers. Guidance counselors. Advisors. Friends. Colleagues. Ask the question: Do you see what I see?

They may not. And they should.