Last weekend, I visited my son and daughter-in-law in Limburg. The air was crisp, the trees beginning to whisper autumn. On Saturday, we attended a card game event — a kind of tasting table for the imagination. Magic: The Gathering, Yu-Gi-Oh!, Star Wars, Gundam, and many others. Each table offered a different world, a different rhythm of play.
Someone of the organisation asked my son to explain the rules of Gundam to newcomers. He didn’t hesitate. He didn’t perform but he simply helped.
And as a father, I felt something deeper than pride. I witnessed a quiet glory — the kind that doesn’t seek applause, but offers presence. He wasn’t there to show how good he was. He was there to make others feel welcome. To make the game accessible. To be a helping hand.
That moment stayed with me. Not just as a parent, but as a coach.
Because in our world; the world of coaching, guiding, mentoring, the temptation to seek glory is real. And yet, the most transformative coaches I know are the ones who help with no need to be seen.
What Is Glory, Really?
In sports, glory often means being the best. Winning. Dominating. Standing out.
And that kind of glory has its place. Athletes train for it. Teams rally around it. Coaches in competitive sports are measured by it.
However, in presence-based, transformative, and safe coaching, the glory shifts.
It’s not about being the loudest voice. It’s about being the clearest presence.
It’s not about being admired. It’s about being available.
True glory, in this context, is quiet. It’s the kind that doesn’t need a spotlight. It’s the kind that shows up in the background, steady and faithful.
It’s the kind I saw in my son.
The Helping Hand vs. The Hero Pose
There’s a difference between helping and performing help.
The helping hand is quiet. The hero pose is loud.
One says, “I’m here with you.” The other says, “Look what I did.”
One builds trust. The other builds ego.
My son didn’t explain Gundam to impress. He explained it to include. He didn’t dominate the space; he made space.
That’s the coaching that changes lives.
And yet, in the coaching world (especially online) the hero pose is everywhere.
The Temptation of Glory in Coaching
Even in soulful coaching spaces, we’re not immune to the spotlight.
We see it in the metrics:
- “Look at how many clients I have.”
- “Look at how much I earn.”
- “Look how transformed they are because of me.”
We see it in messaging:
- “I’m the best at what I do.”
- “I cracked the code.”
- “I’m the one you’ve been waiting for.”
But true coaching isn’t about being the source of transformation. It’s about being the witness, the guide, the gentle mirror.
The glory isn’t ours to claim. It’s theirs to live.
When we center ourselves in their story, we distort the rhythm. When we step back and hold space, we let the melody unfold.
The Sacred Posture of Service
Helping without seeking glory is a sacred posture.
It means:
- Showing up with no need of credit
- Offering insight without needing to be right
- Creating space without needing to be seen
It’s the leadership that builds sanctuaries. It’s the coaching that lasts.
This posture isn’t passive. It’s intentional. It requires strength, humility, and rhythm.
It’s the posture of the lantern lighter, not the spotlight holder.
Rituals That Keep Us Grounded
To stay in this posture, we need rhythm. We need rituals that remind us who we are and why we serve.
At The Coach Valley, we use:
- The Gratitude Jar — a coin dropped for every moment of presence
- The Charm System — a charm earned for every act of gentle progress
- The Path of Progress — a rhythm that honors motion, not performance
These aren’t just tools. They’re anchors.
They help us remember:
- We’re not here to shine. We’re here to illuminate.
- We’re not here to dominate. We’re here to guide.
- We’re not here to be followed. We’re here to walk beside.
Coaching as Devotion
Helping without glory is an act of devotion.
It’s choosing to serve even when no one’s watching.
It’s choosing to listen even when no one’s applauding.
It’s choosing to build even when no one’s praising.
This kind of coaching isn’t glamorous. But it’s sacred.
It’s the kind that changes lives quietly. That builds trust slowly. It’s the kind that lasts.
Questions for Coaches
As you read this, I invite you to reflect:
- When was the last time you helped without needing recognition?
- Where might you be tempted to perform instead of serve?
- What rituals help you stay rooted in quiet glory?
- How do you define success — and does it align with your values?
- What kind of coach do you want to be remembered as?
Closing Reflection: The Father’s Pride
Watching my son explain Gundam wasn’t just a parenting moment. It was a coaching moment.
He didn’t seek glory. He offered a presence.
And in that moment, I saw the coach I want to be.
The kind who helps. Who listens. The kind who builds sanctuaries, one quiet act at a time.
So here’s to the coaches who serve without applause.
To the mentors who guide without ego. To the lantern bearers who light the path, then step aside.
You are the quiet glory. And the world needs you.
Two Invitations
Join The Coach Valley
Become one of the first 100 Lantern Lighters.
Your rate is locked for life.
Your presence shapes the field.
Book Me as Your Coach
Let’s refine your rhythm, your offerings, and your presence — together.
