One step on the long walk to freedom from the “amygdala hijack”

Have you noticed how, at times, an experience you are having triggers strong emotions in you – emotions that come with such speed and intensity that it seems as if they control you rather than you them?  At the time, you are likely to be filled with thoughts about yourself or the other person – critical thoughts, laden with generalisations (“why does she always have to do x, y or z…?”), judgements (“what a ****!”) and (oh, yes!) expletives.  Favourite places for this experience are in the family, behind the wheel of a car or when we are being served and are unhappy with the service available.  And yes, there may also be times when we are triggered in this way at work.

After the event we may continue to tell the story that we told ourselves at the time.  This has the benefit of leaving our dignity intact in our own eyes:  we were justified after all, given that… The downsides of maintaining our story are several.  So thin is the veneer that protects us from a deeper truth that we may start to exaggerate the truth in order to convince ourselves that we were in the right, increasing the likelihood of an ongoing breakdown in communication and missing the opportunity for some important learning.  What’s more, over the course of a lifetime, our stories create our life – so it’s worth checking out that the life you create by the thoughts you have in these moments is the life you want to create.

And what if it’s not?  It’s one thing to recognise the moments in which you are triggered and another to know what to do that will change your response.  In truth, so common is the experience of what scientists call the “amygdala hijack” that many approaches have sought to address it in ways which empower their followers to be free from its powerfully destructive effects.  Marshall Rosenberg, for example, through his work (including his book Nonviolent Communication:  A Language for Life) offers ways to transform the thinking behind the emotion and so does Katie Byron, whose book Loving What Is:  Four Questions That Can Change Your Life is widely available.  Both have dedicated their lives to pursuing and sharing ways that have worked for them in this area and their websites (www.cnvc.org for Marshall Rosenberg and www.thework.com for Katie Byron) are a rich resource for anyone who wants to explore ways to be free from the effects on their lives of being triggered in this way.

It’s easy – and perhaps admirable – when you’re seeking to move beyond the approaches you take when you are triggered to look for alternative strategies for responding in a given situation.  It’s also largely ineffective until you can penetrate the surface of your emotion to understand its cause and transform it.  Rosenberg and Byron both point to the importance of transforming the thinking that stimulates the emotion.  Yes, you heard it:  the thinking that stimulates the emotion.  For it’s not the situation itself but rather the way we think about the situation which stimulates the pain and anger we feel in a given moment.

In case you want to take steps on the road to understanding your own triggers I offer some questions and the invitation to be curious:

  • What are the situations or people in which your emotions are most easily triggered?  You might like to think of examples and to examine specific examples using the questions below;
  • What was it about each situation which stimulated your emotions?  Be as specific as you can as you respond to this question;
  • What were your thoughts about this situation?  What assumptions, beliefs and presuppositions were in your mind (of which you may or may not have been aware)?
  • What needs did you have that were yearning to be met in this situation?  I write more about needs in my next posting, recognising that many of us find it hard to connect with our needs in a given moment or after the event;
  • Which part of you was triggered in each situation?  This question recognises that our triggers often relate to specific (often younger) parts of ourselves whose needs were not met. 

As I write, I recognise that this posting is one step – and only one step – on the long walk to freedom from the amygdala hijack.  As well as making a note to write about needs in my next posting, I also make a note to write more about next steps:  once you have understood your thoughts, what can you do to transform them?

PS  Just to let you know, as a member of Amazon Associates UK, I shall receive a referral fee for any books you buy using the links in this posting.

  

Welcoming your parts to the party

In recent weeks I have written a couple of times about the idea that we have different “parts”, in my postings From the stable of NLP: parts integration and Championing your inner parts.  But how many parts do we have?  And how do you begin to identify your parts?  This question was brought to me recently – though not for the first time – by a client who was becoming aware of the different parts of her which were responding in diverse situations.

In case you’re wondering what on earth I’m talking about, I offer an example from my own experience.  I remember taking part in a major research project, in 1999, into what differentiates the most outstanding teachers.  The project included visiting schools across the country to interview 180 teachers, as well as observing lessons and a range of additional activities.  Since I have no children of my own my visits to school are rare so my first visit to a school on this project reminded me powerfully of my own school days – it was as if Dorothy the school girl was showing up all over again with all the fears and excitements she brought to her own experience of school.  The experience of visiting that first school was, at the time, a strong invitation to that younger me.

How many parts do we have?  Caroline Myss, in her book Sacred Contracts:  Awakening Your Divine Potential, draws on Jung’s theories to highlight the role of universal archetypes in our lives, suggesting that each of us has up to twelve archetypes that are strongly in play in our lives as well as others whose energies come into play in particular situations.  Further, she suggests that each archetype has both a positive and a “shadow” side and, as such, are guardians of important lessons as part of what she calls our “sacred contract”.

Many clients of coaching, for example, are familiar with – and in all likelihood frustrated by – their saboteur archetype.  This is the part of us which can cause us to hold back and to make choices which block our own empowerment and success.  “What can be the good in that?”, you might ask.  In some schools of thinking the saboteur is cast as a “gremlin” which we are invited to ignore.  In some schools of thinking, the saboteur is seen as the guardian of our safety.  Myss sees the saboteur as the guardian of an important lession for us:  drawing to our attention situations in which we are in danger of being sabotaged or of sabotaging ourselves.  With awareness, we can learn to heed the warnings of the saboteur and to avoid making the same mistakes repeatedly.  Without awareness, the shadow saboteur will manifest in the form of self-destructive behaviour or the desire to undermine others.

Myss’ book is a rich resource for anyone who wants to study this subject more fully and includes descriptions of a wide range of archetypes which help the reader to identify their own “support team”.  At the same time there are other ways to become familiar with our parts so I offer some questions here as my “starter for ten”, in case you want to identify and get to know your parts:

  • In the different areas of your life, which “you” is showing up?  Take time over days, weeks or months to notice the different “yous” who show up across the full range of your life;
  • As you identify each “you”, notice what you know about him or her.  How old is she, for example?  How tall?  What does she wear?  Where does she hang out?  I could go on… 
  • In the way that she’s showing up right now, is she a force for good or ill in your life?  How do you respond to him or her?  This is an important question, highlighting areas where you have yet to learn to cooperate with your parts and to work together to the benefit of your learning and progress;
  • What is the primary intention of each part?  What purpose or even lesson does he or she represent in your life?  To what extent have you learnt that lesson?

In most cases, we have parts that we favour and some that we firmly reject.  Understanding the purpose each part plays in our lives can lead us to new learning and to a relationship with each part which supports us rather than undermines us.  For this reason I invite you to welcome each part – each “you”.

PS  Just to let you know, as a member of Amazon Associates UK, I shall receive a referral fee for any books you buy using the links in this posting.

From the club of mutual admiration

It was my great pleasure recently to meet Sean Conrad.  I first met Sean when I interviewed him, in 2005, for a post with MunichRe.  It was clear to me then that I was interviewing someone of great talent.  I felt moved to offer to recommend Sean on LinkedIn.  This is what I wrote:
When I conducted an executive assessment of Sean on behalf of Munich re in 2005, I discovered a young man who combined both the deeply technical skills of his profession and the depth and breadth of competency (or emotional intelligence) needed to progress way beyond the role for which he was applying.  His ability to think strategically and to see the big picture stand out as an asset for a future senior executive.  Though you probably won’t hear it from Sean, you can expect him to make a great contribution and to go a long way.  It’s my pleasure to watch him progress.
Sean had also valued the experience, recognising and valuing the investment MunichRe had made in him whilst he worked with them.  He gave the following recommendation which now sits on my own profile on LinkedIn:
I met Dorothy during my interview process at Munich Re and continued working with her through the company’s management development program.  Dorothy is very perceptive which makes her a valuable resource in the interview process, able to indentify whether a candidate possesses the key attributes necessary for a specific role.  In her role as an executive coach, she challenged me in an encouraging way and her personal interest made me feel like she was invested in my success.  I have enjoyed working with Dorothy and am confident she would add value and insight to any individual or team she works with.

Sean Conrad
See LinkedIn for Sean’s profile

Thank you, Sean!  As I write I am raising a metaphorical glass to you! 

The power of observation

The greatest form of human intelligence is to observe without evaluation.
 
R. Krishnamurti
Philosopher
 
Again and again I come across this quote from R. Krishnamurti even whilst noticing how often our use of language confuses observation with evaluation or judgement.  So common is our practice of combining the two that our language is woven through with nouns, verbs and phrases in which an evaluation is presented as a fact.  This is true in journalism and politics, for example, when we describe a man or a woman as a “terrorist” or when we use any number of verbs (“struggle” and “cope” are just two examples) which suggest our response to what we see at least as much as they accurately represent what we observe.
And of course, as much as we can look to our journalists and politicians for examples of this conflation of observation and judgement, we have plenty to investigate in our own use of language.  How often do we describe someone as “difficult” or “aggressive”, for example?  How often do we use such words as “bullying” or “abuse”?  What other words do we conjure when our loved ones stimulate in us feelings of anger or irritation, when our staff or colleagues don’t give us the behaviour or results we want or when we do not receive the level of service we yearn for out in the world?  Our language would be much more precise (as well as more wordy) if we were to replace such phrases as “John was so agressive in our meeting” with such phrases as “when I heard John speak more loudly than anyone else in the room and watched him stand up and lean forward mid-way through his response to the Chairman I thought ‘my!  you’re really behaving aggressively today!'”
One of the reasons I value Marshall Rosenberg’s work in the field of nonviolent communication is because it teaches people to differentiate between their observations and their evaluations as a matter of habit.  This is not to say that such habits are gained with ease.  It can be easy to tell yourself that your language is clunky and awkward (hey!  more evaluations!) or that others will not – or do not – accept your turn of phrase when you commit to clearly distinguish between what you observe and how you respond to it.
And in case you’re reading this and thinking, “what on earth is the difference that’s being highlighted here?” or “how can I distinguish between the two?” I invite you to get curious about your own use of language or the language of others.  When, for example, would it work to insert an “I’ve concluded” or an “I believe” in a sentence?  And what do you notice about another person or situation (or even about yourself) that leads you to the descriptive words you use – from “lazy” or “difficult” to “beautiful” and “industrious”?  For whether you are responding positively or negatively to a person or situation the words you use are likely to reflect your response – your evaluation – as much as your observation.
Krishnamurti’s conclusion is that the greatest form of human intelligence is to observe without evaluation.  It may take us all a long time to let go of our evaluations.  Meantime, owning them is just one step along the way.
PS  And if you feel like sharing examples of what you notice, please post them here in the comments section of this blog.
 
 
 


Peeling away the layers of my “genius”

Recently I wrote about the challenge (one that we all face) of living from my genius.  There is a paradox in this, for we always bring our genius – it’s who we are.  At the same time, if we are unaware of our genius, we are at risk of living in first gear, a pale shadow of our true selves.  If your “job purpose” is to live from your genius, it really helps to know what it is.

This week, I took away a big “aha!” from my Genius Jam teleconference with colleagues who, like me, are working with Kathy Mallary to examine and improve our marketing and the way we attract and serve our true clients.  My big “aha!” (which also had the familiarity of the known – so it was actually a ‘small, big “aha!'”) has helped me understand my genius a little better.

I already understood that a key question for me is “am I living authentically?” When I am, I know that I am having conversations with people (I call these “real conversations”) in which I speak my truth knowing that it doesn’t matter what their response is. Looking back through the filing cabinet of my experiences I know that these conversations give me what I need to move forward and especially to know, do I want to hang out with this person or not?

Today I realise that it is when I am having these conversations that I am stepping into and living from my power. Even as I write I feel the full power of this – or should I say empowerment.  It is not a “power over” anyone else. Rather, it is an invitation to people to live powerfully with me in the world – you could say it is an invitation to “power with”. This concept is pretty key to my understanding of nonviolent communication (ref. Marshall Rosenberg) so there’s no surprise that both are compelling to me.

There’s something about this insight which is both new and not new.  And still, it’s enough to help me to sink a little deeper into my true genius.  If you like, it’s enough to help me embody my true genius – just that little bit more.

Receiving the waves of gratitude

Do you have people in your life with whom you share membership of the Mutual Admiration Club? These are people you hold in high regard and who hold you in their hearts in the same way. Dorota Godby is one of these. Through our participation in several learning events we have had the opportunity to support and be supported by each other and in this way to witness and benefit from each other’s skills.

In June I observed how Dorota was able to be present to the needs and feelings of others at Vicky Pierce’s Barn – how she took time with people to explore with them what feelings were arising in the moment and supported them in connecting with their underlying needs. This was empathy as a high art and I watched with admiration as well as experiencing the sense of deep peace that can come when I am in a space of such intimacy, trust and presence.

I also benefitted from Dorota’s support myself as I explored some of my own feelings about being single. Dorota showed the same sensitivity, supporting me as I connected with a yearning for the level of intimacy that is possible in a committed relationship. Later, she brought a playfulness to our conversation about the man I would love to meet. I haven’t met him yet though I’d love to.

I was thrilled when Dorota asked me for some support in August, when we were both at NVC (that’s Nonviolent Communication) Summer Camp together. We took some time on the last day of camp to do some work which was deeply personal to Dorota. I felt the same sense of privilege that I always feel when I am both coach and witness to people in support of their progress towards lives that are more authentic, easy and fulfilling. It was a further blessing to receive Dorota’s update to me which I share (with her permission) below:

Now I’m talking to you, I want also to share my joy and gratitude following the mediation space you held for me on the last day of the NVC camp. I hope that you’ve been receiving the waves of gratitude I’ve been sending your way non-verbally but I’ll articulate it here too.

I’ve seen such changes in and around me as a result of our work. It’s been integrating into my normality and making it a richer, sweeter and more satisfying experience compared to previous exhaustion and harshness. The most recent experience of it was on a work project in Oxford last week. In the 4 days of space clearing and emotional support that went with it, I was able to navigate the process with spaciousness and compassion and not a bunch of well meaning but oppressing “shoulds”. It was a big difference for me: instead of the lever being stuck on “maximum performance maximum of time”, it went with what was needed, how much and when and both me and my client were delighted with the process.

Dorota Godby
Relationship communication coach

They shall not grow old, as we that are left grow old

They went with songs to the battle, they were young.
Straight of limb, true of eyes, steady and aglow.
They were staunch to the end against odds uncounted,
They fell with their faces to the foe.
They shall grow not old, as we that are left grow old:
Age shall not weary them, nor the years condemn.
At the going down of the sun and in the morning,
We will remember them.

Laurence Binyon
From his poem, “The Fallen”
World War I ended officially at 11am on 11th November 1918.  Remembrance Day is the offical commemoration across the countries of the Commonwealth of the sacrifices of both members of the armed forces and civilians in times of war.  The extract from Binyon’s poem, which has become known as the Ode to Remembrance, evokes especially thoughts of those who died.
As one who was born long after the end of World War I and indeed after World War II it was Sebastian Faulk’s book Birdsong that first brought World War I vividly to life, some years ago.  Later, a visit to Ypres brought to mind the forgotten members of the Commonwealth who fought under the British flag.
Now, though, I wonder who we remember on this day, thinking of the many soldiers who give arms and legs but not their lives and those who give, simply, their mental health as a result of the horrors they witness on behalf of their country and in foreign lands across the world.
It seems to me that as we think of and honour the dead, we are at risk of overlooking the impact of war on those who are still alive. 

Staying connected

Popular convention in the world of communication favours such questions as “how is your sister?” or, knowing that the person you are asking has been finding it difficult to communicate with another person in ways that work well for both parties, “how are things going with your sister?”  (You can substitute any number of alternatives for sister – brother, mother, mother-in-law, partner etc.).  This is the question my friend (let’s call her Fiona) asked me over supper the other day.

Quickly, I find I am not enjoying the conversation that follows, with so many questions coming my way about how I feel that we seem to be going round in circles with none of them hitting the mark.  In my head I am thinking judgemental thoughts about my friend which mask my true feelings of discomfort so that it’s only after she has gone home that I connect with my confusion:  what needs was she trying to meet by asking so many questions?  I just don’t know.

I muster my courage and share my confusion, writing in an e-mail:  I pondered our discussion about my sister… looking back I can see I was (am) totally unclear about the needs it was serving to have the conversation… I’ll do my best to remember to ask next time. Answering your questions was a way of trying to stay in rapport – and yet I was finding it hard to stay in the present moment. I also recognise that insofar as we were talking about it I had a need to be understood so that I kept trying to answer your questions. Still pondering – wanting to learn from it.  And later in our correspondence I realise (and share):   I do recognise that when I [responded to your questions without a clear understanding of your needs] I was using an old strategy of staying in rapport with you at the expense of my own needs.

We are two people who are seeking to practise living consciously.  I am grateful for Fiona’s willingness to talk about the way we are communicating and for her request to me to share with her what she can do and say differently that would contribute to me – would meet my needs.  Pondering her question I realise that for everything I can ask of her there is a request I can make of myself or of her so that I, too, can make a difference.  Here are some of the things that I identify and share with her:

  • I’d love you to know what needs you are trying to meet when you ask me questions and to share them with me so that I can respond to your needs (and I recognise that I can also ask you what your needs are and share my confusion when I don’t understand them);
  • I’d love you to ask me an open question about how things are for me – and to show me that you are listening to my answer (and I can ask you to show me that you’re listening by asking you to tell me what you hear.  In this way, I can also know if I am expressing myself clearly);
  • I’d love you to take time to connect with me in the here and now, perhaps by asking how I feel about the thing we’re talking about (and I can tell you what I’m feeling in the here and now – and this includes sharing my discomfort and confusion when your questions leave me feeling less present rather than more present);
  • I’d love you to share your own experience in our conversation – how you are feeling and what needs of yours are being met (or not) (and I can ask you questions so that I understand your feelings and needs in a given moment.  This might also support you in staying connected).

For me, this is about staying connected – with ourselves and with each other.  The more each one of us is connected with our true feelings and needs in any given moment, the more we are able to connect with each other.  I ponder the “how are things with your sister?” question again and notice:  sometimes, talking about what’s going on with another person (someone who is not taking part in the conversation) can divert our attention from what’s going on between us.  For me, living consciously includes noticing and addressing this “elephant in the room”.

Writing about authenticity

It’s Friday evening and I’m having supper with Morton Patterson at the Spice of Life – a rare treat.  We are talking about business matters and I tell Morton about the work I am doing with Kathy Mallary to refine and improve my marketing.


Morton asks me where I’ve got to with that.  I tell him about the work I’m doing on referrals – mapping the processes by which I can act to increase the likelihood that people (my clients, colleagues and others) will refer people to me who are well qualified as potential clients.  I also tell him about some of the messages that I am beginning to define for my marketing – most recently what Kathy calls my unique selling point (or USP).


It’s no surprise to me when Morton asks what I see as my USP and I am happy to tell him:  my approach is uniquely effective because I cultivate leadership potential with compassion and rigour, nurturing authenticity, ease and high performance.  He’s quick to ask me where authenticity shows up on my blog, telling me:  “You behave authentically, everything about you demonstrates that;  it is in your e-mails, your manner and communication but your writing does not convey that clearly”.  As I ponder, I realise that my emphasis has been on modelling authenticity in my writing rather than on writing about authenticity.


I make a note to write more on this topic and find myself pondering the questions that need to be asked.  What is authenticity?  What is it not?  What role does authenticity play in leadership?  How does behaving with authenticity change the experience of the leader?  And of those s/he leads?  What are the benefits of authenticity?  What are the challenges?  How do you connect with, nurture and develop your authentic self?


These are the questions I thought of.  What questions would you add?

PS  You’ll find Morton at www.mortonpatterson.com.  Do take a look when you have a moment.

Giving feedback: what do you do when someone just isn’t getting it?

What can you do when you’ve given someone feedback and they’re just not getting it?  This is a common dilemma at work and opens up two possibilities.  The first is to adjust your approach to giving feedback until you’ve been successful in giving your feedback in a way which can be heard and understood.  The second is to take your frustration elsewhere – to share it with your filing cabinet, colleagues, spouse or pubmates, for example.  Often, the first option is the most difficult.  At the same time, when we give feedback we do so for a reason – there’s something we want to change as a result.

Recently a colleague from the world of nonviolent communication (or NVC) highlighted a brief video on YouTube of coaching by Miki Kashtan* in how to say “no” when someone wants your time at work.  Miki’s coaching helps the person wanting to give feedback whilst also helping to preserve the dignity of the person receiving the feedback.  When we get it right, it’s not just that our feedback is heard and understood:  both parties have new insights which they can apply across their lives, they understand each other better and their sense of trust and connection is preserved and maybe deepened, too.

For me, Miki’s coaching illustrates some common ways we use language and their limitations.  One of these is to speak generally when we give feedback rather than to highlight specific examples.  This can have the effect of making it hard for the recipient to hear and understand our feedback whilst at the same time carrying the risk of making a statement about the person rather than about specific behaviours which didn’t work for the giver of feedback on particular occasions.  The person receiving feedback can be left with an uneasy feeling as they absorb the message that they’ve “done something wrong” and maybe even the message that there’s “something wrong with them” without being able to understand the message and its implications.

A second way in which we commonly use language when we give feedback is to mix together the other person’s behaviour and our response to that behaviour.  “You talk too much” would be one example:  you only need to scratch the surface of this statement a little to realise that we don’t know how much a person talks when they “talk too much” though we can infer that the person giving the feedback is not enjoying it.  So common is this language pattern that most of us would not even notice it.

Perhaps Miki’s brief video (just ten minutes long) illustrates something else, too.  Beneath the label “nonviolent communication” – a label that can seem off-putting to some – lie both sound thinking and practical alternatives to aspects of communicating in our culture which limit the results we can achieve.

*Miki is co-founder and senior trainer at BayNVC in Oakland, CA, USA, host of the Conflict Hotline on KPFA radio, and for several years coordinator of the global CNVC project on applying NVC to social change.