I missed the opportunity recently to respond in a timely way to an invitation from a friend and colleague. She mentioned over lunch one day that she was going to hear Marianne Williamson speak and asked if I would like to join her. By the time I checked my diary it was too late. I found it hard not to put myself in the wrong. Perhaps I was pre-empting the possibility that, by not meeting the needs of my friend (for consideration, perhaps, or clarity) my friend, too, would put me in the wrong. Sheepishly I dropped her a line and said:
The time has flown since we met and I realise I didn’t get back to you to say I wouldn’t be joining you to hear Marianne Williamson. I am trying not to give myself a guilt trip – and not quite succeeding! I do regret that I didn’t let you know sooner – I’d like to have met my needs to show respect and consideration.
She responded promptly and told me:
Absolutely no need for a guilt trip – and I’m now doing giraffe* in to make sure it doesn’t come to me! The truth is I had forgotten that part of our conversation – sorry – so it didn’t really have an impact at all.
She also took time to share what she did remember – and appreciate – from our conversation.
In our culture, the idea that, at any moment in time, we are “in the right” or “in the wrong” is endemic. Tucked away beneath it are some positive intentions – though they are not easy to connect with. (Kelly Bryson, in his book Don’t Be Nice, Be Real: Balancing Passion for Self with Compassion for Others highlights Piaget’s writing in this area. Piaget suggests that when we teach children to do things from a sense of duty and obligation, we impede their development, so that it becomes less likely that they will do things because they want to and know they have free choice). Believing that something is right or wrong can keep us from connecting with our own truth or the truth of others. So, sharing my feelings of guilt with my friend and hearing her honest response helped me to recalibrate – to recognise that whilst some people would judge me for my action (in this case, for my inaction) to do so is just a choice.
As I write I am reflecting on my own choice to judge myself. I am getting better over time at letting go of this habit – even whilst having a little way to go.
*In nonviolent communication (or NVC) the giraffe is a metaphor for connecting with needs – our own and others’. Hearing another’s feelings of guilt, the giraffe seeks to understand what needs are being expressed.
Tag Archives: nonviolent communication
Real conversations: creating ground rules for effective communication
Recently, I wrote a posting for Discuss HR on communication, identifying a number of elements which, together, comprise our approach to communication. In this posting I expand on what I wrote for Discuss HR, writing about some of the areas in which we can set ground rules for communication.
The more you can translate your aspirations into ground rules for effective communication, the more you can implement an approach in line with your chosen paradigm. A number of disciplines and approaches have chosen to do this and some of them have in common areas in which they set ground rules.
One of these areas, for example, is building and maintaining connection – rapport. Ian McDermott, author and co-author of many books on NLP, including Way of NLP, sees rapport as one of the four pillars of success. For him, rapport (with ourselves, with others) is not just about communication, it’s also about our success in the broadest sense. Marshall Rosenberg, in the field of nonviolent communication (NVC) emphasises maintaining connection as a priority in communication. Rosenberg’s invitation to connect first and only then to correct, reminds us that it’s hard for others to hear what we have to say if they do not, first, feel a sense of connection with us. By adopting this as a rule, you remind yourself (and others) that communication is about building and maintaining relationships first. Any other outcomes depend on your relationship with others in the moment.
Another rule which is reflected in a number of different approaches to communication is, in the words of Roger Schwarz (author of The Skilled Facilitator Approach) to focus on interests, not positions. Marshall Rosenberg puts the same point another way, inviting people to see beyond the immediate message to the needs that underpin the message. This rule is at the core of approaches to negotiation and mediation. It also has value in our every day communication – with ourselves, as well as with each other.
It seems to me that any additional rules are in support of these two rules and that these two rules imply a particular paradigm – one in which the emphasis is on a “win, win” approach to communication. This is an approach in which everyone’s needs matter and power is shared – a “power with” rather than a “power over” paradigm of communication. The rules for communication may be ones we adopt ourselves, no matter what the approach of others. Perhaps they are rules we jointly agree to observe in a particular relationship or context. Either way, they are designed to make it more likely that our communication will be effective.
Roger Schwarz, in his Skilled Facilitator Approach, offers a number of rules which pre-empt some of the most common communication problems. He invites people to test their assumptions and inferences, for example, and also to explain their reasoning and intent. Looking back on my own communication with John, whom I mentioned in my first posting in this series, I can see that I could have done more to make my own intentions crystal clear and that this, in turn, might have made a misunderstanding less likely.
Marshall Rosenberg, in his book Nonviolent Communication: A Language for Life, distills a needs-based approach into four simple steps. He invites us to replace the language of judging with clear observations (step one). Acording to this rule, for example, we might replace a conclusion (“you’re always late at your desk in the morning”) with a precisely observed statement (“I have seen you arrive after 9am, which is your official start time, two or three times each week for the last six weeks or more. As a result, I’m starting to think of you as someone who is always late for work”). His is also a heart-based approach, so that he invites us to share our feelings (step two) as well as our needs (step three) or to seek to connect with the feelings and needs of others. Only then do we make a clear and specific request (step four) such as “Would you be willing to tell me what you are hearing so that I can know how clearly I’ve expressed myself?”
I sometimes wonder if our investment in improving our communications skills – our personal skills or those of a whole organisation – are predicated on the idea that improved skills make for greater ease in the communications process. I would add that, for me, this is one area when the opposite is also true. Effective approaches to communication can make it easier, for example, to discuss the undiscussable. They can make it clearer where the source of a misunderstanding lies. At the same time, communication depends on the willing participation of everyone involved and is limited by our own – and others’ – current level of skill.
Take John, for example, whom I wrote about in my first blog of this series. As I write, I experience both needs met and needs unmet in relation to our correspondence. John has chosen to withdraw from the group of which we were both members as a way to improve his management of his time. He’s also chosen not to have any of the discussions which might help to rebuild our sense of connection. And me? I am ready – pleased – to support John in doing what’s right for him and in this way to meet my need for contribution. I have also invited him to join me in the kind of dialogue that repairs relationships – a request to which he has so far not responded. I feel sad that when I think that a number of needs – for connection, for example, and for respect and consideration – are not currently being met. At the same time, I’m trusting he’ll do that …when he’s ready.
Real conversations – choosing beliefs that support your communication paradigm
Recently, I wrote an article about communication for Discuss HR. In it, I identified a number of aspects of communication. In this article, I identify some of the beliefs that underpin – and facilitate or impede – effective communication.
In his book, The Human Side of Enterprise, McGregor identifies two distinct theories held by leaders (“Theory X” and “Theory Y”) which in turn are manifest in two different styles of communication. McGregor’s classic theory highlights how the communication styles of leaders rest on the different beliefs and assumptions that underpin the two different approaches to communication. By paying attention to our beliefs we can check out whether or not they support our chosen approach to communication.
One discipline which has done this very successfully is neuro-linguistic programming (NLP). Borrowing from Alfred Korzybski’s book Manhood of Humanity: The Science and Art of Human Engineering, for example, practitioners of NLP are taught that “the map is not the territory”. Holding this belief reminds us to differentiate between the facts and our view of the facts and opens up many possibilities. It is easier, for example, to maintain a sense of connection with someone whose views differ from our own when we are clear in our own minds that the map is not the territory. This is true even when our partner in conversation appears to be confusing his or her own map with the territory itself.
NLP also offers the belief that “every behaviour has a positive intention”. Holding this belief invites us to look behind some of the behaviours we find most difficult in others in order to identify and respond to the positive intentions that underpin them. This belief is also shared with nonviolent communication (NVC) which suggests that every behaviour is designed to meet a need, even whilst recognising that some behaviours are poorly designed to meet that need. When we combine this belief with a core value of compassion we are equipped both to be present to a behaviour (in ourself, in others) which we do not enjoy and to be curious – what is the need or intention that underpins this behaviour? If we can see past an ineffective or unpleasant behavioural strategy to the need it is designed to meet, we open up opportunities to identify alternative and more effective strategies.
These are just two examples of beliefs designed to open up possibilities to meet our needs more effectively whilst also supporting others in finding ways to meet their own needs. It is worth saying that our beliefs are, often, unexamined, sitting outside our conscious awareness. For this reason it may not be enough to say “I want to adopt this style of communication” since we may not be aware of unconscious beliefs that inform our behaviour and undermine our chosen communication approach. My mother, for example, still laughs when she recalls a neighbour who – many years ago – used to say to her son “speak proper, or I’ll pie ya!” By my mother’s standards, the form that this message took was incongruent with its intention. And of course, it’s fair to assume that any one of us will, at a particular point in time, hold unconscious beliefs that are incongruent with our chosen approach to communication.
I wonder, what beliefs do you hold that inform the way you communicate with others? Please take time to notice them and – if you’re willing – share them here.
Taken together, the areas I have identified over a number of postings can be translated into ground rules which support communication in line with your chosen paradigm. I’ll be sharing some examples of ground rules in my next posting.
Real conversations – choosing the focus of your communication
On Monday, I wrote about two fundamentally different paradigms of communication, drawing on the work of McGregor, Schwarz, Rosenberg and Goleman and expanding on an article I recently wrote for Discuss HR. Today, I continue this series of postings by discussing the focus of each communication paradigm.
Two different paradigms of communication. Two different sets of underlying values and assumptions, strategies for execution and ultimate outcomes. If you want to adopt either one of these approaches, you need to know how the underlying values and assumptions translate into practice. One area in which the difference is starkly visible, in my experience, is in the focus of attention adopted by users of each approach.
Let’s begin with McGregor’s Theory X; what Roger Schwarz (in his book The Skilled Facilitator: A Comprehensive Resource For Consultants, Facilitators, Managers, Trainers, and Coaches) calls a Unilateral Control Model and Rosenberg calls a domination approach. The aim of the user is to win and not to lose and the user is not concerned about the experience of others. Implicit in this approach is the belief that there is a single right answer and that all other answers are wrong. It follows, then, that the user of a domination-based approach to communication will tend to focus on who or what is right or wrong and to gather data which supports the case. He or she will often favour some kinds of data and dismiss other kinds of data though there may be some internal inconsistency here. For example, the user of this approach tends to favour objective data and dismiss data concerned with the feelings of others. At the same time, he or she may take the view that his or or her feelings are justified, especially when they are concerned with judgements about the other person or people.
Marshall Rosenberg, in his book Nonviolent Communication: A Language of Life, identifies judgements as a key area of focus for the user of this unilateral, domination approach. This is not about discernment, for the user of this approach often lacks the ability to discern, conflating his or her beliefs, for example, with the facts and confusing observations with conclusions. Rather, it is about being judgemental. This is true even when the person concerned is giving positive feedback, which is given in the form of praise and which implies that it is the giver of praise who is the ultimate arbiter of what is right and what is wrong. In this sense, the emphasis is on what the communicator thinks and believes.
In making the case for a particular approach, the user of the domination approach is likely both to emphasise the use of data and to be keen to control its use. This might include avoiding scrutiny of his or her own data and ignoring or dismissing data which does not support his or her particular way of thinking or forward path. Parties to communication become opponents, seeking to prevail, galvanising their arguments in order to win. This approach may be explicit (in the request for a presentation to support a proposal, for example) or implicit (in the way we think about our colleagues behind the scenes).
What, then, is the focus of a Mutual Learning Model? This is McGregor’s Theory Y – what Rosenberg calls Nonviolent Communication (or NVC). This approach is about collaborating in order to achieve a variety of outcomes, including business and personal outcomes. This paradigm has as its central focus desired outcomes, underpinned by needs or – to use the language of negotiation – “interests”.
What is meant by needs – or interests – in this context? I tend to favour Rosenberg in the way he clearly differentiates needs from the strategies by which we meet them. This is something that we often confuse. The leader who says to a member of staff that “I need you to get that paper to me by 5pm today” is not talking about the need itself but about the strategy by which he expects it to be met. Nor can we infer his needs directly. Perhaps, for example, he has a meeting the following day for which he wants to prepare – but not by staying late at work and at the expense of his family. In this case, his needs might be for connection and intimacy and he plans to meet them by spending time with his wife and family. Perhaps, though, he knows his own job is on the line if he doesn’t get this paper to his boss in good shape by 9am the next day. In this case, he might be trying to meet some fundamental survival needs – for food and shelter, for example – by taking action to secure his ongoing employment.
Why is this distinction important and how does it facilitate successful communication? Because when needs are shared it becomes much easier to reconcile the irreconcilable. Knowing that the writer of his paper can’t start her final read through until 4.30pm, for example, gives the leader the opportunity to make different arrangements. If his concern is to spend time with his family, he might choose to take his lap-top home so that he can take delivery of the revised paper on-line or asking another colleague to check the paper whilst its author is in her meeting. If his concern is to hold onto his job he might be more inclined to stay late to review the paper after his colleague has got it to him or even to ask her to prioritise the paper over the meeting she was planning to attend. This is essentially a “win, win” approach: one which aims precisely to achieve outcomes which meet the needs of everyone involved.
It follows, then, that data is seen and handled very differently. Instead of using data to make a case, users of this second model of communication share data and test it carefully in order to build understanding and to open up new ways to achieve desired outcomes. Data, in other words, is seen in relation to needs rather than in relation to who or what is right or wrong.
The idea that communication might seek to identify and respond to diverse needs tends to gladden the hearts of many people in the workplace. Until, that is, they realise that holding real conversations means standing close to the fire. I’ll be writing about this in my next posting. Meantime, I wonder: where are you placing your attention in your communication with yourself and others? If you’re willing to share, please leave a comment below.
The idea that communication might seek to identify and respond to diverse needs tends to gladden the hearts of many people in the workplace. Until, that is, they realise that holding real conversations means standing close to the fire. I’ll be writing about this in my next posting. Meantime, I wonder: where are you placing your attention in your communication with yourself and others? If you’re willing to share, please leave a comment below.
A tragic expression of an unmet need
We’ve all met them. The person whose behaviour in our monthly business update meeting is so bizarre that all the post-meeting talk is about them (“what was THAT about?”) rather than about the business. The person everybody has labelled as “difficult” and whose office nobody visits – unless they HAVE to. The person who seems so calm and on top of things one minute so that we are surprised when, suddenly, they respond to something we say in an entirely different tone.
Daniel Goleman, in his book Working With Emotional Intelligence, draws on the field of neuroscience to identify the “amygdala hijack”, the moment when something in our external environment stimulates emotion in us which is disproportionate to the event itself. Sometimes we observe it in someone we know and are taken by surprise. Sometimes it is the regularity with which we observe it in someone that prompts us to call them “difficult”.
What can be more challenging is to own that we, too, are stimulated in this way. It is challenging because, as an observer of others, it is so clear that their response in a given moment is not rational – so clear that we judge. And when we, too, fall prey to this ancient cocktail of stimulus and response, what then? Are we to judge ourselves as harshly as we judge others? No wonder we prefer to look away as if we are not witness, too, to our own behaviour.
I am reminded of this today when my work with a coaching client prompts me to offer an alternative perspective. Marshall Rosenberg, author of Nonviolent Communication: A Language for Life, describes such moments (and more besides) as “a tragic expression of an unmet need”. Rosenberg’s phrase captures with compassion an assumption which is also at the core of neuro-linguistic programming (or NLP), the assumption that every behaviour has a positive intention.
At times, our attempts to meet our needs are highly ineffective. This may be because we are overtaken by an amygdala hijack. It may be because we lack the skills to take effective steps towards our desired outcomes. It may be because we are so fearful of the feedback that is coming our way that we refuse it, so that we miss a valuable opportunity to adjust our course.
When we respond to ourselves and others with judgement, when we see such actions as irrational and inept, we are liable to tell ourselves that somehow something is wrong with the person, as if we are our behaviour. A equals B. Worse still, it is as if we are our behaviour at our moment of greatest ineptitude.
Rosenberg’s phrase and its first cousin assumption in NLP offer a more compassionate view. We were trying. We were trying to meet a need. We did not meet it well in that moment. Paradoxically, this more compassionate view does not excuse us so much as open up new possibilities. For, if I can recognise that I have a need which is not yet met, I can try new ways to meet it. And if I can see past the behaviours of others to embrace them as people who, like me, also have needs which they did not meet well in a given moment, I have an expanding range of possibilities in the way I respond so that both my needs and theirs might be met more fully.
Are you ready to let go of your judgements – of self, of others – to connect with the needs that lie beneath our most irrational and inept behaviours?
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.
To blame or not to blame
This week I have been responding on my blog to a talk by Brene Brown at http://www.ted.com/. Before I move on, I want to highlight and explore just one more comment from her talk: when she suggests that the definition in the research of blame is “a way to discharge pain and discomfort”.
I confess I think of the early morning news team on Radio 4. Do they ever report an unhappy event without asking “who’s to blame?”? I often wonder who this serves and how. Nor are the newscasters on Radio 4 alone. Families blame their fellow family members for the every-day inconveniences they mete out on each other or they blame others outside the family for events – sometimes tragic events – that befall them. Societies blame other societies (or even vague concepts, such as “terrorism”) for actions they do not enjoy. People blame politicians. Politicians blame each other.
I ponder the use of blame in the organisations I work with, for here, too, blame is used liberally. Managers blame their staff for various actions and outcomes that do not meet their needs. And because they hold the power of position they do this, at times, directly and openly and even as part of a formal process such as appraisal. One team blames another (sales blames customer service who in turn blame accounts…). Sometimes such blame is expressed openly and directly. Oftentimes it is a low, ongoing grumble in the background of our interactions with each other.
Without question, our choice to blame has a positive intention – we do it for a reason. If Brown and her colleagues in the world of scientific research are right, we do it to discharge pain and discomfort. This raises a number of questions for me: how effective is blame as a way to discharge pain and discomfort? What are the side-effects? And what are the alternatives?
Perhaps it would help to define blame in some way. At the time of writing, Wikipedia offers the following definition of blame: Blame is the act of censuring, holding responsible, making negative statements about an individual or group that their action or actions are socially or morally irresponsible, the opposite of praise. When someone is morally responsible for doing something wrong their action is blameworthy. By contrast, when someone is morally responsible for doing something right, we may say that his or her action is praiseworthy. There are other senses of praise and blame that are not ethically relevant. One may praise someone’s good dress sense, and blame the weather for a crop failure.
How effective is blame as a way of discharging pain and discomfort? It seems to me that it must be effective to some degree, otherwise we would not do it. To take one of the more extreme examples we can imagine, the relative or friend of someone who has been murdered may well find it easier to feel the anger that comes with blaming the person who has committed the murder than they do to be present to the intense feelings of grief connected with the loss of a loved one. To give a more mundane – but nonetheless pertinent – example, the manager in the workplace may well find it easier to blame his (or her) staff for their failings than to recognise the shortcomings in the instructions he gave or to acknowledge his role in recruiting staff who lacked the necessary skills for the job.
What are the side-effects of blame? It’s easy to see that blame has consequences that are undesirable. If we choose to blame others, for example, we live with the ongoing feelings (of anger, resentment and so on) that go with blame. And we do this whilst never being entirely free of the feelings we are seeking to hold at bay. These include the grief of the mourner or the fears of the manager, and so on. At the same time, there are consequences that go way beyond our immediate emotions. Blame creates the culture we live in, for example, so that even when we are dealing with people who do not think in ways which produce blame we may fear blame from others because it is what we do ourselves. In organisations, blame is often associated with a failure to get to the root cause of a problem or issue such that the problem continues. Both the problem itself and the blame associated with it consume energy in ways which are unproductive.
So what are the alternatives? I am going to offer two of many:
- If the aim of blame is to discharge pain and discomfort, perhaps a key area to look for alternatives is in the area of handling our emotions. Marshall Rosenberg, author of Nonviolent Communication: A Language for Life, invites people to transform difficult emotions by understanding the needs that underpin them. This means connecting with our unmet needs and the feelings that go with them. This may well help us with the second of the options I offer here;
- If our aim is to address a problem or issue, then it helps to focus on the outcomes we want and to explore what it would take to get to our desired outcomes. Thinking about how we or others are contributing to a problem is no longer a matter of blame but rather becomes, in this scenario, a matter of identifying barriers to progress so that we can find ways to make progress towards our desired outcomes.
Whilst we may continue to consider who is responsible, both options involve letting go of attaching blame in order to get the best outcome. I wonder, are you ready to let go of blame?
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 links in this posting.
Choosing words that heal
Sarah Palin has been sharply criticised in recent days for her insensitivity, even as she tries to look presidential. Peter Stanford, writing in the Belfast Telegraph, highlights how Palin placed a rifle target over Arizona during the 2010 election to designate that Gabrielle Giffords was a politician she wanted out of the way, leading to accusations that she is personally responsible for Gifford’s shooting last week by Jared Loughner. Whilst we all wonder what the outcome will be for Gifford and for others who were wounded, six people have already died.
Stanford’s article highlights the power of words, focussing in particular on Palin’s use of the phrase “blood libel” which he examines in depth, laying out the history of its use and its association with acts of terrible violence perpetrated on Jewish people throughout the ages. Sarah Palin is playing with fire, he says. She has been one of the most effective practitioners of the use of words-as-weapons, damning Barack Obama’s healthcare reforms, for instance, as “death laws”. But just as such poisonous oratory can get the crowds cheering, it can also lay you low. Perhaps the real choice that faces Palin now is whether she wants to join the ranks of politicians whose gaffes and casual ignorance of history make them a joke, or step up into the responsible mainstream.
Obama, without question an orator of great skill, eschews tit-for-tat in favour of a different kind of discourse. Speaking at a memorial service for the victims of the shooting in Tucson, Arizona, Obama seems to be addressing politicians of all persuasions when he says, But at a time when our discourse has become so sharply polarized – at a time when we are far too eager to lay the blame for all that ails the world at the feet of those who think differently than we do – it’s important for us to pause for a moment and make sure that we are talking with each other in a way that heals, not a way that wounds.
Saying yes to examining the reasons for the shooting so that steps can be taken to reduce the likelihood of similar events in future, Obama nonetheless cautions, But what we can’t do is use this tragedy as one more occasion to turn on one another. As we discuss these issues, let each of us do so with a good dose of humility. Rather than pointing fingers or assigning blame, let us use this occasion to expand our moral imaginations, to listen to each other more carefully, to sharpen our instincts for empathy, and remind ourselves of all the ways our hopes and dreams are bound together.
The openly Christian rhetoric of American politicians sits uncomfortably at times amongst the British, so that some may choose to ignore his words (which you can read in full by following this link). Yet more people may wonder what this has to do with us. I see in Obama’s speech an act of leadership of the highest order, for he addresses not only the sense of grief and loss experienced by those affected by this tragedy, not only the political issues of the day, but also the manner in which we choose to live our lives. His is a rare and welcome choice: to rise above the opportunity to gain political capital in order to invite men and women on every side of the debate to act in ways which honour the dead and give hope for the future.
As I close, I feel a deep sense of gratitude for a man who is consistent in choosing the language of empathy and compassion over the language of conflict and discord. For his choice reminds us that we, too, get to choose. We may not get to choose the events of our lives or the behaviours of those we deal with and still, we get to choose whether to speak to the best of who we are or to the worst. I thank Obama for choosing words that heal.
Ways to liberate yourself from the power of the amygdala hijack
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?
What is it you really want? Getting to the heart of your needs
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.
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.