One of the first “recipes” I ever learned was chocolate brownies. Preheat Oven. Open the box, add eggs, water, and oil. Stir. Prepare pan. Pour batter into pan. (Lick the spatula.) Bake at xyz degrees for abc minutes. Cool on a rack (don’t burn your tongue).

When I learned that you could add something to the brownie mix that wasn’t listed on the box (m&ms, more chocolate chips, nuts, or peanut butter chips), a whole new culinary world opened up.

Then, I found a recipe for brownies on my way to a cookie recipe that I was beginning to learn. I would follow the list of ingredients carefully, measuring just so, and followed the directions exactly. I am good at following directions, so I was good at baking.

It wasn’t until I had made many cookies, brownies, or bread (and I’m not an expert at any of these) that I didn’t freak out when I mis-measured, grabbed the baking soda instead of baking powder, or ran short of an ingredient. At some point along the way, I had learned about how the ingredients worked together. I still couldn’t tell you about the chemical reasons for anything I know about baking, but I know enough to attempt old projects with creativity or new projects with confidence.

This journey from following recipes to trusting my instincts taught me something profound about growth—something I see reflected in my coaching work every day.

In the many roles in our lives, we often start out with the recipe. We gather ingredients, measure and pour the pieces together, and build a life with our work and people. We begin with lists – of expectations, of hopes, of traditions. And eventually we make additions or substitutions. We test a new ingredient. We make a big mess and fail spectacularly. Or we triumph in our first attempt at a true made from scratch cheesecake.

Sometimes instinct is enough – with baking and with life. Other times you need to phone a friend or your great aunt.

When I coach people, I help them recognize what they’ve already mastered—their natural talents and hard-won skills. Together, we explore what they truly want to create: What are your values and dreams? What would your ideal life recipe look like? Then we focus on the here and now: Given what you’re facing this week, how can you blend your existing strengths with your future vision to take your next best steps?

That is coaching. We can live life following the directions on the box—and that’s a perfectly good starting point. But just like in baking, the magic happens when you learn to trust your instincts, experiment with new ingredients, and create something uniquely yours. We’ve all tasted that extraordinary dessert where you can sense both the solid foundation of a great recipe and the creative touch of a confident baker.

Life and work can be like that too—built on proven foundations but flavored with your own creativity and wisdom. As a coach, I help people become the master bakers of their own lives, moving from rigid recipe-following to confident, creative living.

Now, please pass a fork.