Category Archives: Emotional Intelligence

Ways to liberate yourself from the power of the amygdala hijack

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In recent days I have been writing about what Goleman labelled the “amygdala hijack” in his book Emotional Intelligence.  In this posting I want to offer some options for the person who wants to reduce the destructive power of the hijack in their lives and perhaps even to transform this energy into a power for good.  I don’t go into any option in depth (though that may come later).  Rather, I open up avenues for exploration – options to play with (and, as they say on all the reality TV shows nowadays, “in no particular order”):

  • One option which dampens the fire of amygdala emotion is to develop the practice of inserting words and phrases by which we take ownership of our thoughts – such words and phrases as “I believe…” or “I have a voice within me that’s saying…”  There’s a world of difference, for example, between saying that “you are lazy and selfish and a waste of space” and saying “I believe you are lazy and selfish and a waste of space”.  Even if we insert this phrase into our thinking it shines a light on the self rather than the other and makes us more likely to remind ourselves of the role we are playing.  Quite simply, the emotional sting is not so sharp when we own our thoughts in this way;
  • Another option is to remind yourself that you can’t change the others, you can only change yourself.  Like the option above this brings our attention back to where it belongs – to the self.  Why does it belong here?  Not least because this is where we have the power to make changes.  Perhaps it’s worth adding that Gandhi took this idea one step further with his oft repeated mantra to “be the change you want to be in the world”.  In other words, what is it you would like to see in the other person that you are not seeing?  And are you demonstrating the same qualities ourselves?  To explore this is to begin to set an example in the area that is so important to us;
  • Another – and no less challenging – option (look out for a posting on this) is to let go of the idea that there is anything wrong.  The idea that someone should be another way is the fast-track route to the amygdala hijack.  If you start from the premise that the situation – or person or event – is what it is you can begin to focus your attention elsewhere.  (I mentioned Katie Byron in my first posting and you might like to explore her work in this area);
  • Another option is to look behind your immediate emotions for the underlying emotions you feel and for the needs of yours that are not being met in a situation.  This opens up the possibility of sharing your needs and making a request of the other person.  As simple as this sounds in theory, this level of ownership of our feelings and needs takes practice in a culture in which many of us are alienated from our underlying feelings and needs.  Marshall Rosenberg has made it his mission to share this simple approach under the name of Nonviolent Communication;
  • You might like to master the NLP “meta-mirror” or a similar approach as a way to transform highly charged emotion.  I wrote about this technique in my recent posting (Thinking of all the mirrors in my bedroom).  This is an approach designed to transform our perspective.  You can read about this, too, in my recent postings (As a meta of fact);
  • Finally, I offer the ultimate test of all:  speak to the person or people involved and share what’s going on for you.  I offer this not because it is the most effective communication strategy.  Rather, I offer this because it is probably the ultimate test for you of where you’re at.  Initially, it’s quite possible that sharing yourself in this way may lead to good old-fashioned argument!  In this way, you’ll know your way of thinking is off the mark.  Over time, as you become more self aware, the thought of sharing what’s alive for you may prompt you to say “mmm… I have more work to do to transform my way of thinking before I share”.  Ultimately, there may be relationships in which you do want to share your thoughts and feelings and to ask for the other person’s understanding.

Finally, I reach out to you and invite your insights and experiences.  Which of these approaches have you tried and with what outcomes?  What other approaches have you tried that work for you?

Freedom from the “amygdala hijack”: the benefits of transforming your thinking

Emotional Intelligence

Recently I wrote a posting One step on the long walk to freedom from the “amygdala hijack” in which I invited the reader to be curious about the thinking that sits behind the amygdala hijack – the moment in which you are triggered by a person, event or situation so that your emotions come with such speed and intensity that it seems as if they control you rather than you them.  I promised to write more about the actions we can take to transform the thinking behind the amygdala hijack and this is my intention for my next posting.  First though, what outcomes can we expect if we are able to transform our thinking and what benefits might they lead to?

What outcomes can we expect if we are able to transform the thinking that triggers such strong emotions?  In my view, these outcomes reflect the increasing levels of capability we demonstrate as we learn to transform our thinking:

  • Transforming our thinking after the event may not be ideal – most people want to be free of the amygdala hijack – and still, it opens a pathway for letting go of the event itself as well as for learning in the longer term.  In short, it opens up options that are not open to us as long as we hold on to the thinking that fuels the hijack in the first place;
  • Developing the skills to transform our thinking in the moment makes it more likely that we can interact with others in stressful moments in ways which work for both parties.  In other words, transforming our thinking in the moment makes it more likely that everyone’s needs can be honoured and met – including our own;
  • Developing the skills to transform our thinking over time opens up a wide range of new possibilities.  Our commitment to transform our thinking and our practice of transforming our thinking over time makes it easier to transform our thinking in the moment and can also reduce the frequency and intensity of our amygdala hijacks.  In time, we can come to see the hijack as an ally – showing us where we still have some learning to do.

What are the benefits that follow on from these outcomes?  As I ask myself this question, I wonder just how long this list might be – and decide to highlight just three:

  • Transforming our thinking leads to radically improved relationships – with ourselves and others.  This is true in the personal and professional sphere;
  • Transforming our thinking helps us meet our needs far more effectively – including our need to contribute in positive ways to the lives of others; and
  • Transforming our thinking leads to improved health and well-being – from our physical health (reduced blood pressure and everything that this might lead to) to our emotional and psychological well-being.

Is this a quick and easy process?  I’m not sure it is.  Some scientists have posited the theory that the amygdalae are part of the limbic system of the brain and that this in turn is older in evolutional terms than other parts of the brain.  The amygdala hijack occurs because our ancient brain perceives a threat of some sort and because the perception of the threat is disproportionate to the threat itself.  In other words, it’s possible we’re wired to have the amygdala hijack as a matter of survival.

Even without the science, the experience of the amygdala hijack is one we all experience and will continue to experience over time.  In my next posting, I hope to offer some ways to move forward – though I can’t promise anyone a hijack-free life.

What is it you really want? Getting to the heart of your needs

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As I begin to write this posting I have a sneaking susipcion that I may have written it already and still, this is a topic that comes up again and again and again:  what is it that you really want?  Coaching helps people to clarify what they really want and, at the same time, it is not unusual for my clients to find it challenging to tune into their desires.  This posting is prompted by conversations with one such client and also supports recent postings.

Firstly, let’s clarify one thing.  What is the difference between “wants” and “needs”?  The school of NLP (to which I shall return below) offers the question “what do you want?” whilst the school of nonviolent communication (or NVC) talks about needs.  What’s the difference?  In truth, when we drill down far enough we get beyond the surface manifestations of our desires to understand the needs that (we think) would be met if were to have what we want.  This is the difference between the promotion or the big flash car (the strategy by which we plan to meet our needs) and the sense that we are seen and admired (the need we hope to meet by that strategy).  It helps to understand the underlying need as a way to test the strategy by which we plan to meet it – is the promotion (or… insert your own strategy here) the right tool for the job?

But how do we test our true needs?  NLP (I said I would return to NLP) offers a neat questioning strategy to do this.  The first question is simple:  “what do I want?”  So far so good – often the answer expresses a strategy rather than the needs that lie beneath the strategy.  So, the second question probes further:  “what would that do for me?”  By repeating the second question we come ever closer to identifying the underlying needs we are hoping to meet.

My client asked me what she might be looking for when she identifies a need so I offer a link to the needs identified by Marshall Rosenberg and colleagues on the Center for Nonviolent Communication (see needs list).  Key to this list is the non-specific nature of each need.  When we understand that our underlying need is for support, for example, we are no longer bound to meet it in one and only one way.  We can start to get creative.  What support do we need?  And what (multiple) forms might that support take that would meet our need?

There are at least two good signs that we have understood our needs.  The first is that we have gone beyond any physical manifestation of our need to identify something that does not have physical form (such as love, or respect or honesty).  A second good sign is the feeling that accompanies this identification of our need.  I experience this as a kind of “coming home”, a moment when I become calm and contented even when the need has yet to be met.

And yes, this is an amazing thing about identifying our needs in this way.  By being present to our needs we have a sense of fullness rather than a sense of lack.  In the world of nonviolent communication, Robert Gonzales and colleagues describe this as the living energy of needs.

Welcoming your parts to the party

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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.

The power of observation

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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.
 
 
 


Staying connected

Emotional Intelligence,

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”.

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

Developing as a leader, Emotional Intelligence, ,

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.

Leadership and the Anatomy of the Spirit

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It’s Friday night in the run-up to a concert.  Tutti night, when the chorus and orchestra get together for the first time to prepare for a concert on Sunday.  Even though I know there won’t be much down-time in this particular rehearsal, I have my book with me in the hope that I might be able to continue my reading.  Part-way through the rehearsal one of my colleagues leans over and asks to take a look.  I send the book down the row, marking a page I think might be of particular interest.  I don’t see it for the remainder of the rehearsal.  When it comes back she comments:  “It should be essential reading”.

The book’s author, Caroline Myss, is – it seems to me – an extraordinary woman who has become what is known as a “medical intuitive”.  With very little information about the individuals concerned, Myss found she could diagnose illnesses and pinpoint the causes of those illnesses and the energetic or spiritual challenges faced by the individuals concerned.  It wasn’t always that way.  In the preface to her book she charts her transition from newspaper journalist to theology student to founder of Stillpoint publishing company to medical intuitive.  This latter is not something she sought out.  Her initial experiences in this area left her confused and a little scared and it was a while before she met C. Norman Shealy, M.D., Ph.D and began to support her intuitive abilities with an intensive study with him of the physical anatomy of the human body.

In her book, Anatomy of the Spirit:  The Seven Stages of Power and Healing, Myss sets out to teach the reader the language of energy with which she works, offering a summation of her fourteen years of research into anatomy and intuition, body and mind, spirit and power.  She draws on a number of spiritual traditions including the Hinda chakra, the Christian sacraments and the Kabbalah’s Tree of Life to present a new view of how the body and spirit work together.  In reading Myss’ book, I was fascinated by the model she outlines, charting the energetic content of each chakra, its location, its energy connection to the emotional/mental body, primary fears, primary strengths, sacred truths and more.  This is a map of the spiritual challenges we face in our lives in which Myss also shares many stories from her work which illustrate the implications of embracing – or not – those essential human challenges.

For those already familiar with the world of energy and comfortable with the language of the spirit, Myss’ book is a fascinating read and a reference to return to again and again.  At the same time, Myss’ book is not only for the spiritual seeker.  In the often more guarded language of the business world, Myss is addressing aspects of what is often called emotional intelligence.  Many books for example, (including Alfie Kohn’s Punished by Rewards and more recently Daniel Pink’s Drive:  The Surprising Truth About What Motivates Us) highlight research findings which demonstrate unequivocally that we give our best performance when we are driven by our own intrinsic motivation rather than by external punishment and reward.  In the language of the spirit this is about our intuition and inner guidance – something Myss covers amply throughout this book.

As I read what I have written so far, I also think of the need for leaders to be able to uderstand themselves, to understand others and to understand the context in which they work – the organisational and wider culture.  I think of how often my own work as executive coach supports individuals in facing the very challenges Myss outlines in this book:  what would it mean for leaders to be able to support themselves and others in the same way?  Myss’ book offers powerful and intriguing insights for the leader from the world of (as it has become known) alternative medicine.

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.

On the challenges of “being the change”

Developing as a leader, Emotional Intelligence, ,

Many times, Mahatma Gandhi invited people to “be the change you want to see in the world”.  Gandhi pioneered satyagraha, or the resistance of tyranny through mass civil disobedience.  As much as he was firm in his pursuit of the rights of Indian people, Gandhi was also committed to total nonviolence.  Gandhi’s invitation to “be the change” brings us back to some essential truths.  Why should others embody ways of being that we ourselves do not embody?  And anyway, the truth is, we cannot change the others, we can only change ourselves.

For me, understanding these truths has been an important part of what brought me to coaching – to being a coach. And like peeling the layers of an onion, I find that every time I reach one new frontier in my learning another one opens up. And yes, from time to time, life sends a reminder that I’m not there yet. This is how it was last week.

On Tuesday, in conversation with person A, I listened to her as she expressed a view I didn’t share and said it didn’t resonate with me.  When she repeated it I said I found it more helpful to look at it differently and shared my thinking.  When she repeated it a third time I found my emotions were triggered.  Our conversation turned from the matter in hand to the way we were interacting with each other.

On Wednesday, I was sitting next to person B’s wife on the London Underground as, standing in front of us both,  he told her how much he disliked the English.  As the people around him began to exchange glances at each other I felt the discomfort rising in me as I listened to him talk and talk and talk… I was grateful when, eventually, two women claiming to be off-duty officers invited him to leave the train.

On Thursday, I finally got round to responding to an e-mail on a forum for followers of nonviolent communication from person C.  It was an e-mail I hadn’t enjoyed reading and I was concerned for the person she’s written it to as well as concerned about its effect on the wider group.  I decided to share my concerns openly and to invite a conversation amongst group members.

As the week progressed I found myself reflecting more and more on what was going on in me in response to all these exeriences.  Following each experience I recognised just how much I was putting the focus of my attention on the other person.  Surely person A should hear and respect me when I shared with her that I simply didn’t share her view – and let it go!  Surely person B should know in advance that talking about how much you dislike the English on the London Underground was going to offend people and cause an argument!  Surely person C should see that her e-mail – on a forum for students of nonviolence – was at odds with some of the most fundamental teachings we seek to follow!  Even as I write I feel the seductive lure of putting the other person in the wrong.

Catching myself in this way of thinking I remind myself that violence – and nonviolence – begins on the inside, with our thoughts and feelings.  Even if we follow all the steps that we can identify en route to nonviolence, if we do so from a place of wanting to be right, we fuel violence in the world.  Thinking in this way I am not being the change I want to see in the world.  This is not to say that I would want to hold back from expressing a different view or making a request of the other person.  Rather, this is to recognise that I would like to do so whilst accepting that, like me, they are where they are, doing the best they know how in a given moment.

And as my perspective starts to shift, I see reasons to be grateful to these people, each and every one.  For my experiences with them are a reminder of my own aspirations, to be able to respond to behaviours I don’t enjoy, to express my needs and to make requests of others whilst accepting them fully as my brothers and sisters in this world – and whilst accepting their behaviour as OK, the best way they know how to meet their needs at a given point in time.  What’s more, my experiences are a reminder that I am on my way – and still not there yet.

The dance of acceptance – at work

Developing as a leader, Emotional Intelligence, ,

What does it mean to “see” another and to “be seen”?  How do we know when we are being seen?  And how does this link to meeting our need for acceptance?  Last week I wrote a posting in which I attempted to address these questions and to describe what I called the “dance of acceptance”.  But what of the dance of acceptance at work?

The person who has not yet learnt to accept him- (or her-) self will do his best to put on a good face at work.  He’ll think hard about what others want to see and do his best to deliver against his best understanding.  At the same time, his best understanding and its execution may be poor because of the great fear he has of asking what’s needed or – worse still – of asking for feedback about how he’s doing in practice.  (One of the reasons I know this is because I was this person earlier in my career).

If he’s successful in covering his tracks he risks being seen as arrogant by others who are taken in by his brilliant facade.  More likely others will see all sorts of clues which creep out around the edges.  Either way, the effort it will cost him will be significant – and draining.

This person will have a manager and may be a manager.  As a manager he may look to blame others for anything that goes wrong – heaven forbid that any sign of imperfection should end up on his desk!  Whilst he’s managing his own fears his staff may develop high levels of anxiety in their turn.  He may be seen as a bully.

If he is lucky, his manager may have a finely honed level of self acceptance such that he is not, in turn, on the receiving end of his own approach.  Such a manager may well perceive the root cause of behaviours that are not serving him or helpful to the business.  He may be able to strike the delicate balance between accepting him as a person and managing his behaviour – this depends on his manager’s ability to see beyond the current manifestations of his fears and to trust to his learning and progress.

Ultimately, even if his manager has to address his behaviour and their impact on the performance of his team, he will be able to do so from a place of acceptance.  Such a manager is likely to say:

There are some problems with your performance at this time and I need to address these with you.  I’m not sure whether you’re in the right job and need some learning and support or whether you’re in the wrong job and need to move on to one that suits you better.  Either way, it’s my job to help you to find this out and to support you in getting to a point where you are performing in your job.  It may be this job, it may be another job.  I’m here to support you.

In my years of interviewing leaders for jobs or as part of research into what makes the most effective leaders it’s rare that I come across a leader who can separate the man (or woman) from his (or her) performance in this way.

This is just one example of the dance of acceptance in the workplace.