Supervision as the Ocean

Because we all know I love an ocean metaphor...

I recently had a conversation with a very confident corporate/leadership coach about supervision. It was one of those exchanges that leaves you feeling slightly deskilled and wondering if you’ve misunderstood your own profession. She began offering me advice about how supervision should be done — from a coaching perspective.

Coaching supervision absolutely has its place. But the conversation left me reflecting on something important: Not all supervision is the same. And the type of supervision I am trained in is something very different. 

Coaching Supervision vs Relational Supervision 

This is where language gets muddy, because the word supervision is used across many professions.

Coaching Supervision 

Coaching supervision tends to focus on: 

• Performance and effectiveness 
• Goals and outcomes 
• Professional development of the coach 
• Ethical practice within coaching frameworks 
• Reflective discussion of client work from a coaching lens 

It is often future-focused, solution-focused and linked to professional growth and skill refinement. This is valuable work. But it is not the same as relational supervision. 

Relational (clinical) Supervision 

My training at the Tavistock and Portman sits in a much more relational and psychodynamically informed tradition. Relational supervision is less about fixing or optimising and more about: 

• Containment 
• Emotional processing 
• Reflective space 
• Unconscious dynamics 
• Relational patterns 
• The emotional impact of the work 

It recognises that when we work with children, families, schools and communities, we are working in emotionally complex systems. The practitioner is not a neutral tool. They are part of the relational field. Through containment and reflection rooted in a dynamic supervisory relationship, both supervisor and supervisee grow across their professional careers. 

Supervision becomes a space to think, feel, pause and make meaning. 

Returning to the ocean 

After that conversation, I found myself dipping back into my BACP Children, Young People & Families Journal. I came across a beautiful column by Elizabeth Holt using an ocean metaphor for supervision — and it deeply reassured me. 

It reminded me of the value of the work I do and the kind of space I offer. The ocean metaphor resonated so strongly, but in my own work I often hold it slightly differently. 

My version of the ocean metaphor 

In relational supervision, I don’t imagine myself as the surf instructor shouting directions from the shore.

Instead, I picture myself sitting beside the practitioner at the edge of the water. We are not trying to control the sea. We are not trying to stop the waves. We are not even trying to become expert surfers. We are learning how to watch the tide together. 

Because practice with children, families and communities has tides. There are times when the sea feels calm and manageable. And there are times when the water becomes unpredictable. Transitions create strong currents: 

• A child preparing to leave therapy 
• A placement ending 
• A new role beginning 
• A school term ending 
• A sudden rupture in a relationship 

These moments can stir feelings that seem bigger than the situation on paper. A child nearing the end of therapy, or the end of their school class before moving up, might suddenly resist or regress, as if asking: Will you still hold me until the very end? A practitioner leaving a role might feel excitement tangled with guilt or grief. Even a half-term break can quietly echo earlier experiences of loss or separation. 

These are not problems to fix. They are tides to notice. 

The supervision space as shoreline 

In supervision, we slow down and look at the sea together. 

We ask: 

• What is changing right now? 
• What feelings are moving underneath the surface? 
• How big does this wave feel? 

Sometimes the simple act of naming the size of the wave brings perspective. Is it a gentle ripple? A rising swell? Or a wave that feels like it might knock you off your feet? This noticing is powerful. 

Practical rituals matter too 

Relational supervision is not only emotional reflection. It also supports thoughtful endings and transitions.

• We might think together about: 
• Rituals to mark endings with children or families 
• Memory boxes, drawings, transitional objects
• Letters to help hold onto the work achieved 
• Writing a “professional snapshot” of what the practitioner is taking forward 

Not just skills and successes, but mistakes, learning and growth. Because falling off the surfboard is part of learning to balance. Supervision helps practitioners remember that wobbling is not failure — it is part of being human in relational work. 

Parallel process: the supervisor is in the water too 

Supervisors are not standing on dry land. We also experience: 

• Transitions 
• Endings 
• Organisational change 
• Shifts in role 

Holding awareness of this parallel process helps us meet practitioners with genuine empathy. We are all subject to the tide. None of us control the sea. 

Why supervision matters 

Supervision becomes an anchor when practice feels uncertain. A place to pause. To think. To feel. To steady ourselves. Not to eliminate the waves — but to develop the strength and confidence to move with them. Every transition in professional life carries the possibility of growth and renewal. Supervision helps us recognise that. 

If you are a helping professional:

If you work with children, families, schools or communities — and you hold the emotional weight of this work — you deserve a reflective space. I offer relational supervision both online and in person. If this resonates with you, you are very welcome to get in touch.