What a gift an insult can be

Cleaning out e-mail, I found this story about one of Greg Tamblyn's excruciatingly embarrassing moments. I love it, because it really highlights the power we all have to choose what something will mean for us. As Shakespeare said, "There's nothing either good or bad, but thinking makes it so." Or, from Richard Bach: "Argue for your limitations, and sure enough, they're yours."

The original was forwarded to me by John Brown, one of the Portland NVC team members. I encourage you to check out Tamblyn's site. He describes himself as a Transformational Humorist, and he's a terrific writer.

CHAIRMAN MAO'S LIGHTER

Ever had a brilliant gift idea that turned out to be the most embarrassing and humiliating thing you could have brought to the party?

At a conference on consciousness we were told to bring a small,wrapped present to exchange as a means of getting to know each other. The gift was supposed to be related to something significant in our lives. After wracking my brains for awhile, and looking around the house, I found the perfect thing: a lighter I had brought back from China. It was a souvenir from the first time I ever hosted a group tour, which has become a yearly event since then.

Ah, but this was no ordinary lighter. It was a solid lighter with some heft to it, covered in bright red enamel. On one side, the imposing face of Chairman Mao stares out at you, totally out of context on this goofy trinket. Sort of like Abraham Lincoln on a box of Wheaties. But the kicker is that when you open the top, it plays a silly (and quite frankly annoying) Chinese marching song, which squeals on and on -- lit or not -- until you close it. Or until the battery runs out, should you leave it open for a few days as a sort of Chinese torture for the unlucky people you live with. In short, it's pretty funny. And it kind of reduces Mao to the status of a cartoon, which I like.

I've given a few of these away to friends, and everybody gets a kick out of them. My brother likes to walk down the grocery store aisle with his lighter held aloft, music blaring and people staring. I think he does it to embarrass his daughter. But I digress...

So I felt quite proud of myself for bringing this funny, clever gift that I knew everyone at the conference would find amusing. That first night, all 120 of us were sorted into small circles of eight, and instructed to put our presents in the middle. One by one we took turns choosing a gift that someone else had brought, and then we took turns unwrapping them. When someone opened the gift you brought, you explained what it meant to you, and so we'd get to know a bit about each other.

But what happened in our little circle was a kind of cosmic joke.

Imagine: out of all the 120 people at this event, the one person who ended up with my little wrapped package containing this incredibly funny, brilliantly clever, totally unique Chairman Mao lighter, just happened to be the childhood/lifelong friend, as well as the official biographer of.........the Dalai Lama.

I'm not kidding.

He was seated just to my left. As soon as I saw him pick up the little package, I felt myself shrink about five sizes. What I really wanted was to disappear altogether. If humiliation was a color, I would have been a bright orange 4th of July smoke bomb, just fizzing away into nothing. I didn't know there would be a Tibetan at this conference. I didn't know there would be a man who, as I later found out, actually fought Chinese soldiers and was forced to flee into exile as they took over and brutalized his country.

All the time we were going around the circle opening presents, I was sitting there, completely freaked out at the fact that I'd brought the most insulting gift I possibly could have, and it was going to be unbearably awkward when this gentle, elderly, dignified, much-loved man opened it. Unbelievably embarrassing. Life-shattering buckets of shame. For once in my life, I'd been just a little too clever, and my sick sense of humor had come back to haunt me. How could I possibly explain this to him? What could I say? Especially when all the other gifts were so thoughtful and beautiful. What would he say? What would he do?

When it got to be my turn, I suggested we switch presents.

"Why?" he asked.

"Because I don't think you'll like it. I want you to have something you'll like."

"No," he said. "I chose this one."

Slowly and calmly, he unwrapped the lighter. He turned it over, and for a minute just looked at the picture of Mao. I can't remember if he opened the top and played the little song.

After what seemed like forever, during which time I would have gladly traded my whole life to be somewhere else, he spoke.

"Oh," he said firmly. "This is karma."

He looked at me with steady, sincere eyes and said, "This will help me remember to practice compassion."

POSTSCRIPT #1

The next morning, I was relating this episode to one of the conference organizers, and she insisted I tell the entire gathering about it. So I got up in front of the group and told this story. When I mentioned who got the lighter, everybody gasped. And then when I told them what Kuno (his nickname) had said, Kuno stood up, smiled and bowed low, and everybody laughed. And right then we all got it that he was really okay about it.

During the week of this conference, every time I saw Kuno he would shake my hand and thank me for the lighter. So by the end of the week, we had kind of become buddies. On the last morning, he sat next to me at lunch. We talked about Dharmsala, where the Tibetan refugees live with the Dalai Lama, and about life in India. I told him I'd always wanted to go there, and about hosting my group tours. Kuno picked up on this immediately. He invited me to Dharmsala, and said he had friends who would handle all the travel arrangements for us. We could even do some kind of a concert with myself and some Tibetan musicians. He was really into the whole idea, and I got all excited at the prospect too.

It's amazing how things work out sometimes.

POSTSCRIPT #2

(A letter from a friend at the conference, reporting how Kuno described this experience.)

"Dear Greg,

I love that you tell the story about your lighter, but you must tell more of the story. The way you ended it made it sound like he was being polite--but it was MUCH more than that. It was huge, and wonderful.

You should have heard Kuno's talk at the International House after the Conference. He began to talk about his history and connection with the Dalai Lama, and he briefly mentioned his important role as a general in the war. He spoke about how the Chinese killed his parents, family members, and so many of his friends. He talked about his anger at the Chinese--so much anger. He talked about how the Dalai Lama told him many times, he needed to make peace with the Chinese, to not hate them, to have love in his heart, compassion, forgiveness. He saw no way to do this, it was impossible, he hated them all to such an extent that he wouldn't even eat Chinese food. The Dalai Lama would laugh at this and tell him that Chinese food is very good and his anger is making him miss out on some very good things.

Well, before the conference Kuno was visiting a site of one of the bloody battles between China and Tibet where he lost many friends. He was at the memorial, trying to make peace, but only feeling anger, pain and sadness. He began to cry. A couple was there, crying also. They and Kuno started talking about their losses, and began bonding. After a while they decided to go to a place for some food and to talk more. During the meal each asked where the other was from, and it turned out that the couple were Chinese! He had thought they were on his side, not theirs. Karma again. They continued their meal together with new understanding. This experience totally changed his perspective.

He wanted to continue healing so he then started trying to get to know Chinese people. He tried Chinese food and liked it. When the conference organizer invited Kuno to be with us, he also wanted to set up some lectures for Kuno in the area and offered to let him stay at his house. Kuno told him that he would like to do the lectures, but he wanted to stay with a Chinese family, if possible. The organizer said that would be very easy to organize since his foreign-exchange student host family lived nearby, and they just happen to be Chinese! (Coincidence? I think not.) Kuno stayed with the Chinese family before and after the conference and had a wonderful time in their home.

After a couple of days with them, he came to our conference and received your lighter. At this point in his lecture, he held up your lighter, lit it, and played the little song. He told the story of getting the lighter at the conference, of all the groups he could have been with, of all the wrapped gifts he could have picked, he picked you and yours.

It was a gift, supporting his new path to healing. At the time you picked the gift, you didn't know about his new found attempts at healing this pain in his heart, but you helped the process and supported his new path.

I bet the Dalai Lama had a big belly laugh when Kuno told the full story to him.

It's a full circle thing.

If I were you, I'd be honored to be part of that healing circle.

And the lesson for you? Trust your instincts. There is a reason for everything. There's probably even a reason you were put in that situation so you could fidget and feel such nervousness--but only you know the answer to that.

Love and Peace to you, Greg,
Alison Sheafor-Joy"

A FINAL WORD:
Forgiveness has always been my biggest personal challenge, so yes, there's a LOT in this for me. Please feel free to send this to anyone you think it may uplift.

~ Greg Tamblyn
Transformational Humorist ~ Musical Laf-ologist
http://www.gregtamblyn.com

Trances People Live

My friend Joe Mitchell, who runs NVC practice groups, emailed me this week. He's reading Trances People Live by Stephen Wolinsky, and writes,

The question for me came up: why trances? What need do they serve in our life?

Trance, as I understand it, is a state where we're operating out of habit, or on autopilot. In trance, the conscious mind is narrowly focused and the other-than-conscious mind is running most of the show. Trance is an involuntary, spontaneous, and hardwired into our brains. It is not learned or chosen. It's like a heartbeat or breathing or blinking. It's just a given part of life. So what function does it serve?

The conscious mind can only hold seven (plus or minus two) bits of information per second. That's why phone numbers are seven digits. Our minds are limited in the amount of data it can consciously track at any given time. The other-than-conscious mind, however, can handle 2-4 billion BPS.

Some specific numbers are here.

If you imagine the Keller Auditorium, that's the capacity of the unconscious mind. Take a quarter out of your pocket and place it on the floor... that's the capacity of the conscious mind.

My understanding is that some specific trances, or trance states, are learned, deliberate, voluntary, or chosen: working, relaxing, paying bills, worship, writing, dancing, purchasing, lovemaking, etc.

I think other trance states are learned but typically involuntary or automatic: worrying and daydreaming, for example. Typically, we don't think to ourselves, "Oops! I'm late for my worry time," or, "I think I'll schedule my worry for 5:30 next Tuesday." We just slip into it involuntarily. Eating, lust, fear, and humor might be voluntary at times, involuntary at others.

If we can learn trances, I think we can unlearn them. NVC is one process for doing this; hypnosis is another. But in my view, we aren't eliminating trances -- we're just choosing a different trance, or replacing one kind of trance with another. As soon as a choice becomes habitual, or automatic, it becomes a trance.

What is the connection between a trance state we choose and our
actual needs (thought of in NVC terms: needs for respect, security,
connection, etc.)

I think trance states can meet needs for

* Efficiency. Trance saves time. Imagine how much time we'd lose on common tasks if we had to re-learn them from scratch every day. Paying bills. Driving. Opening a friggin' DOOR!

* Safety. Ever had the feeling of uneasiness with a person or place? Billions of data are available to the nonconscious mind that aren't picked up by the conscious mind. Just because we aren't aware of *why* we feel uneasy doesn't mean there's not a damned good reason for it. Some call it intuition. If you're a gazelle, sitting around and consciously trying to analyze whether there's *evidence* of a lion could get you dead. Humans aren't gazelles, but the principle is sound, I think.

* Affinity. Trance serves to meet needs for friendship, love, peace, bonding, companionship, etc. If people had to consciously decide each morning whether they were committed to their spouses/children/tribes, the emphasis on impermanence could result in increased social conflict. Long-term memory is the domain of the other-than-conscious mind, so all memory involves trance. Could we have families and friends without memory? Could we have love?

* Creativity. The conscious mind is the rational, logical, linear mind that is aware of present sensory input: Observation and Evaluation territory. Emotion, imagination, and symbolism are the languages of the other-than-conscious mind. All creativity involves trance states. I'm pretty sure that all problem-solving and learning involve trance states, too.

Since you're into hypnosis, I'm thinking that you induce trances -- is that right?

Yes. As a hypnotist, I lead people in and out of trance.

And am wondering if you see a connection between a persons needs, in NVC
terms, and trances that they choose or hypnosis chooses for them.

One of the reasons I love NVC is because it does induce trance. When a person "goes inside" to identify their feelings and needs, that involves a trance state.

Regarding hypnosis and choosing trances: Hypnosis is a way of *inducing* trance, but it doesn't "choose a trance for" someone. Typically, a client comes in because the trances they're choosing aren't working for them (the smoking trance, the food-as-comfort trance), and they want help installing a replacement trance (the smoke-free trance, the food-as-fuel trance).

Here endeth the opinion.

Thanks so much for the fascinating questions, Joe. I'd love to hear what other folks think!

The Princess Syndrome

I ran across Meanwhile's post about the Disney Princess Syndrome. It's not the first time I've heard of this. I remember when Beauty and the Beast came out, and an acquaintance's daughter wanted to wear her yellow Belle costume everywhere: to bed, to the mall, the playground, school; you name it. And when I was little, I remember fantasizing about being Cinderella. She had lots of talking mice for friends, and I thought that was cool. She also had a pearl necklace, and my parents had recently taken me to Sea World, which had an oyster tank, where you could choose an oyster, open it, and see if there was a pearl inside. I stood by that oyster tank as long as I could, staring at the mollusks and thinking about the time and patience it took to make pearls.

I don't know what attracts little girls to princesses. I liked the pearls, the mice, the puffy blue dress, the magic, and the idea of being significant and sought after, rather than taken for granted and shuffled off to play. I thought it took courage for Cinderella to say YES to the fairy godmother and go on an adventure. I suspected there were probably lots of girls who would pull the covers over their heads, scrunch their eyes closed and yell, "No! Go away! I'll work this out myself, in the real world, without your magic! No ratty footmen or pumpkin coaches for me!"

But I digress. Back to Meanwhile, and the sentence that caught my eye, about Mulan:

"The girl kicks ass, true, but in the original legend, she kicks ass long enough to become a general in the Chinese army, one of six top advisers to the Emperor, while in Disney's version she is found out and marries her commanding officer."

When I read that, I remembered Hillary Clinton once commenting about how she'd chosen to have a career instead of staying home and baking cookies. The comment outraged moms everywhere, who resented the Stepford implication that all moms sweetly smiled and twirled around the kitchen all day. And I wondered about Mulan. By marrying the commanding officer, she lets herself get squeezed into a subservient, traditional female role. In the original legend, however, she proves that women must act like men, play by men's rules, and meet male standards in order to be valued.

I don't find either alternative attractive. However... let's look at the language I've used: laden with interpretation and evaluations. Without my thoughts about what the actions mean:

1. Mulan marries her commanding officer.
2. Mulan becomes an advisor to the Emperor.

It's kind of scary to look at the bare, stripped-down actions, and to realize how much of my own stuff I import in order to make a value judgment about the actions.

Symbols typically associate to a single, dominant idea: Red; stop. Green; go. Fence; boundary. Egg; fertility. We react instantly to the symbol's obvious meaning. We can certainly probe symbols for layers -- most contain depth and complexity -- but exploring those meanings requires a deliberate choice to thoughtfully reflect beyond the knee-jerk assumptions.

When I impose a symbol on a human being, I think I automatically invite conflict. Sure, a person can fulfill many roles, but my own conscious attention has limits. When I hang a symbolic identity on someone -- mom, president, princess, hypnotist -- don't I flatten them out a little? Don't other parts of them become invisible? When I go to my insurance agent, do I think about whether he ate a bad egg at breakfast, if his car is low on gas, if he'll get to his daughter's music recital on time? No. All I see is his job, and I want him to get me the best rate.

Sad. Human, natural, and sad.

Also changeable. If I can notice what I'm doing and refocus my attention, I can see the person and loosen my evaluations and judgments.

So. Exercise:

1. Make a list of the different roles you play. What are the symbols people hang on you? Lover, breadwinner, shopper, board member, parent, driver. (Or maybe you want to list a few people in your life and their roles.)

2. What expectations do you have of someone in that role? What do you expect someone in that role to do or be? What expectations do others have of someone in that role?

3. Are any of these expectation ever in conflict? How do you feel when you review the lists?

4. ERASE THE ROLES. Scratch out every symbol. Get rid of those labels! Now, go through the list of expectations. Using Nonviolent Communication, look for the underlying needs. Translate the expectations into observation language using Nonviolent Communication. What actions or behaviors would express those expectations?

Do you notice a shift in your experience?

Enemy Images

One of the reasons I spend so much time teaching the Observation component in Nonviolent Communication is because labeling pervades so much of our human experience. Labels create convenient, simple-to-use, easy-to-understand channels of communication. If I know something is "cheap," or "durable," or "appropriate," I can make decisions more quickly and accurately, living my life with integrity and aligned with my purpose.

Or can I?

I think labels do help us make decisions faster and easier. They also come with a cost: They can help situations devolve into conflict. Any time we simplify the complexities of human interaction and communication, we risk setting up polarities that divide, rather than bridges to cooperate.

So when I hear about people making efforts to change situations they perceive as unjust or unfair, I always ask myself, "Are they building bridges or walls? Are they separating people into camps of good and evil, or are they seeking to connect with one another through common human experiences?"

I value justice and fairness, but I try to avoid those terms in heated discussions, because they beg the question: Justice for whom? Fair for whom? I think those are valid, legitimate questions, but yelling, "That's not fair!" typically evokes defensiveness in the listener. Few of us can keep our cool when we're accused of acting unfairly!

Another thing I've noticed is that when I ask a person to describe the unfair situation in "observation language," they often drop the "unfair" label and switch to other labels: rude, selfish, disrespectful, exploitative, etc.

When I am dealing with my own triggers, it often takes me a long time to abandon labels. It takes even longer if I try to suppress them. To get beyond the labels, I write down all the ones that come to mind. I let my label maker run wild! I celebrate the enormous range of ways I have created to call someone evil! I try to get it all out of my system... and ON PAPER.

Then - and only then - I start translating into observations, feelings, needs and requests. NVC suggests I say, "When I hear you describe [specific policy, in terms of NVC Observation], I feel distressed, because I'm imagining [the needs unmet by the policy]." Then, I can present a connecting request or an action request. That way, I can focus my energies on the actual situation and on meeting our mutual needs, rather than on diagnosing who is "bad," which will probably not move me closer to a solution with the other person.

It's easy to get stuck on labels, and to think of them as objective, dispassionate descriptions. It's easy to think an "atrocity" is pretty self-explanatory. Yet I've found that when I and others take the time to work out the observation, we begin to work toward a solution. When I and others keep holding on to our labels and defending the "rightness" of them, we have remained stuck, frustrated, and angry.

This is Your Brain on Filters

I watched a video by Paul Scheele recently in which he quoted the following findings from some research done in 1985-86. (Unfortunately, he didn't cite the study in his presentation. *sigh*).

Compare:

The rate (in BPS, or Bits Per Second) at which our sensory organs receive input:

Eyes - 10,000,000
Ears - 100,000
Skin - 1,000,000
Taste - 1,000
Smell - 100,000

Wow! Pretty amazing!

Now, let's look at how much of that information (also in BPS) reaches the conscious mind:

Eyes - 40
Ears - 30
Skin - 5
Taste - 1
Smell - 1

No, that is not a typo.

Think about this for a moment! Most of the information that's coming in bypasses the conscious mind and goes straight into the nonconscious mind! We're only consciously aware of a fraction of the information we receive about the external world! That doesn't mean we are totally unaware of that information. We simply don't consciously notice it.

This is one reason I love Nonviolent Communication and hypnosis. During the "input" phase of communication, NVC "observations" help me focus my attention on sensory input. What am I seeing and hearing? Who is present? What is happening, in what order? Bringing my focus to these things helps me slow down and notice whether my reactions to the situation are coming from what I'm actually noticing or from a habit, memory, or old interpretation of an earlier, similar event.

Hypnosis, on the other hand, goes directly to the nonconscious mind. When I allow myself to go into trance, I can invite the nonconscious mind to share the perceptions it received but withheld from the conscious mind, not wanting to bother it with a lot of irrelevant details.

Dear Online Salespersons...

Get to the point, people. If you're selling something, tell me what it is. Tell me what it will do for me. And tell me what you want me to do: buy it, request more information, call for a demo -- just freakin' ASK ME, for God's sake. (In NVC, this would be the request component.)

I got this e-mail:

Hi, I'm J - award winning storyteller. Okay, J. You've introduced yourself... sort of. At least I know your name and job title.

J continues:

Picture this - At the close of a presentation an audience member pulls you aside to earnestly share a story of their own. You have touched them, inspired them. That connection is rewarding, but most often, momentary. They leave wishing they could somehow give their pressing story a voice. You know it's likely this moment will not lead them to perform. In fact, it's likely their impulse will fade as the days pass. I find that very sad. At least I did, until I found Cherish Bound!

So, thanks to Cherish Bound, J no longer feels sad in these situations. Now she feels... happy? indifferent? disgusted? joyful? What does she feel instead of sad?

Or has Cherish Bound given J the tools to encourage people to go for it! Take action! Acquire the knowledge and skills they need to pursue their dreams!

I'm guessing the latter, but from J's sentence, it's just not clear. And I'm wondering what Cherish Bound is. A person? A product? A book title? A program? I read on:

Cherish Bound has empowered me... I can leave behind tools... I can help... At the core of the Cherish Bound mission is the belief... I get to deepen...

More vague, confusing language. Finally, a link to a Web site! I can go there if I want to learn more. But wait! The e-mail continues! Hallelujah! Maybe I will get the information right here, right now, without having to go somewhere else, later.

Picture this... And there's another story about some person pulling you aside to tell you how much you've inspired them, and how, with Cherish Bound you can help them. Somehow.

By now, I know this is a sales letter, but I still don't know what they're selling! What is Cherish Bound?

It goes on and on like that. Picture this... says J, then tells a story about somebody who always had a dream but never did anything about it, but now with Cherish Bound, you can help them.

I grow more bored with each vignette. The characters don't evoke in me any sense of curiosity, interest, sympathy, warmth or identification. They describe people who have no gumption but have plenty of pipe dreams. I don't want to spend time with them. And if J doesn't make me care about the characters, I don't want to spend time with J, either!

All J had to do was ask, in the very first line of the e-mail, "Do you ever have this problem? Do you want to solve it? I think I can help. Here's the name of my product and here is what it can do for you." J would have had me in three sentences... instead of seven freakin' paragraphs that never did tell me what the product was and what it did!

If you want something, justforgodssakepleeeeeeease ASK. Make a request. Don't dance around with stories about wistful dreamers, rosy-faced children, lost kittens... ack! Just tell me what you want! (You could also give me some characters to care about. That includes yourself. Who are you? What are you passionate about? What do you struggle with? What's great about being you? If I care about you, I might care about what you are selling!)

So at the end of the e-mail, I'm still wondering, WHAT EXACTLY is Cherish Bound? I follow the Web link. It goes to J's customized, personal sales page, rather than the Cherish Bound home page. And (big surprise) J's Web site isn't any more helpful than the e-mail.

The site lists features (no benefits) and I still don't know whether Cherish Bound is the name of a company, an educational program, a product, or a service provider. I don't know what it does, besides promising to increase my "visibility, marketability, and profitability."

And even here there's no clear request! Register now for your free invitation to follow the path of a story through the Cherish Bound process. Huh? I'm being asked to register for an invitation? I thought the e-mail and Web site each constituted an invitation to learn more. But no, I have waded now through an e-mail and a Web site full of non-info to REGISTER to receive an INVITATION to learn more.

*headdesk*

The Law of Attraction (I mean, Attention)

I want to think about a saying I hate (because it has a cutesy Hallmark Cards quality) and love (because I agree with the concept):

Energy flows where attention goes."

Ohmygoshwow! It's the Law of Attraction!

No. It's physics. Performing any mental, physical, or emotional action requires energy. Thinking, exercising, grieving, loving, laughing, walking, working... it all takes energy. So of course, if I'm focusing my attention on (i.e., thinking about) a math test, my neurons are firing and energy is being expended toward that math test.

The more pertinent question, in my opinion, is: How much energy? How well is it being focused? And what measurable difference does it make?

If I sit on the couch thinking about all the ways I could eat better, but I shove potato chips and chocolate into my mouth because that's what I've got on hand, I'm not going to lose weight. If I focus on how beautiful my body will look once I've dropped 30 pounds, but I never get off the couch, my mirror will persist in displaying the same overweight image.

My attention is on eating better, until I get hungry; then, my attention focuses on convenience.

Hypnosis, NLP and NVC can be used to train the subconscious mind to focus attention in ways that serve our outcomes. Steps involve slowing down and noticing our habitual behaviors. Then, asking better questions:

• Where am I putting my attention?
• What am I feeling?
• As I decide how to act, what factors am I paying attention to?
• What needs or outcomes are in play?
• Will the action I plan to take block me from my goal, or get me closer to it?

Making a decision -- to lose weight, find a new job, repair a marriage, increase compassion -- is a great step. Focusing attention on what you want is also a great step. But without action, attention, decision, and focus won't change anything.

Resolving Differences. BLAM! BLAM!

In the days following the tragedy at Virginia Tech, I've been fascinated by the battle of beliefs.

Some folks believe that had other students been armed, the gunman wouldn't have gotten as far as he did. The shooting bolsters their advocacy for legally owning and carrying firearms.

Other folks believe this is one more tragedy that would have been prevented with stricter gun control laws.

Each side has plenty of research and statistics to substantiate their claims, each side repudiates the research of the other, and neither side can comprehend the other's beliefs.

I think this is a pretty good demonstration of people observing the same event and drawing diametrically opposed conclusions. It's a phenomenon that happens, unseen, hundreds of times a day. Most of the time, we assume others think like we do. It's only when we stop keeping our thoughts and opinions to ourselves that disputes arise... and we have to collaborate on how we want to live together, what values we share, and what behaviors we are (or aren't) willing to tolerate.

I've been disappointed that the NVC and Social Change discussion list never mentioned the Virginia Tech shooting: not to offer prayers; not to discuss how NVC could have changed anything, at any step along the long path; not to discuss how NVC might have a measurable effect on preventing this kind of occurrence. I had hoped that people so focused on reducing violence would have something to contribute to the discussion.

NVC talks about "Empathy before Education" and "Connection before Correction," and I've seen little of this in the conversations about gun control. (I've heard lots of ridicule, however - each side saying the other must be brain damaged to hold the views they do). I like NLP's S.O.A.R. process.

On Inclusion

At a parish meeting many years ago, the rector announced the results of a safety inspection. The beautiful cedar trees surrounding the church needed to be fire-treated because of their proximity. Spend tens of thousands of dollars for the treatment... or endless thousands in city fines... or cut them down. We had to decide -- and act -- within the time limit on the citation.

The vestry (board of directors) recommended removing the trees. The rector asked for any discussion. After a long silence, the rector said, "Well, since there are no objections, we'll have the trees removed."

When we left church that day, a fellow parishioner approached me, horrified. "I can't believe they'd just go ahead and make a decision like that!"

"What are you talking about?" I said. "They asked for discussion!"

"I wasn't going to raise my hand. Nobody else did. I think people were intimidated. It sounded as though the decision had already been made."

"It was a recommendation," I said. It wasn't final until no one objected."

"Well, I think it's awful," the parishioner huffed.

"It's not like they were going to cut off your head if you asked for more details or objected," I said. "Nobody put a gag in your mouth. If you're too afraid to speak out in a room full of your friends, you've got no right to complain."

I was younger then and spoke more harshly than I would now. The encounter lingers, though, even 20 years later. I'm sure the rector and vestry wanted to include everyone in the decision -- otherwise, why ask for input? Could they have used another approach? Most certainly. Could it have been one that made everyone feel included?

Is it possible to "make" someone feel included? Or is inclusion defined by each individual, in a specific context? As a nominalization, I suspect inclusion is one of those things that needs to be described in observation language (what a videocamera would pick up) before any group can come up with useful strategies to achieve it.

Susan Skye's NVC Deepening Workshop

Just home from the lovely NVC Deepening workshop offered by Susan Skye. Some familiar faces; some new. The West Hills Unitarian Fellowship is set back off Oleson Road in a grove of trees (pine, cedar or redwood -- this city brat couldn't tell). The air smelled clean. I wanted more light, but it's always difficult for me to adjust to the time shift from summer to autumn.

I found it hard to focus entirely on the exercises; I wanted to catch up on what had happened with people since I last saw them. It's always a challenge for me to balance the exercises with the friendships!

Book Review: Beyond Reason

Book review: Beyond Reason: Using Emotions as You Negotiate, by Roger Fisher (coauthor of Getting to Yes) and Daniel Shapiro (associate director of the Harvard Negotiation Project).

The best way to resolve problems -- whether they're formal negotiations, or problem-solving related to corporate life or personal conflicts -- is to look at the facts, stay objective and dispassionate, and keep your feelings out of the way. Right?

Well, no. It sounds nice, and plenty of people will be quick to tell you that emotions have no place in business, but the fact is that emotions are a basic physiological response, like yanking your hand away from a scalding pot. Pretending you don't have any... that's like pretending you don't have a foot. Emotions can affect your body, your thinking, and your actions.

As with so many other issues, it's not what emotions you've got, but what you do with them that counts.

Fisher and Shapiro draw attention to common triggers of emotional upset and suggest ways to turn that attention into an asset. Reduce the likelihood that the situation will explode; instead, use your emotions (and those of your adversary) to create partnership, collaboration, and respect.

Oh -- and conflict resolution.

Talk about useful: Not only is the book easy to read, well documented, based on research, illustrated with real-life examples, and structured on a progressive list of principles and easy-to-execute suggestions, it's got a cool "Analytical Table of Contents" at the back, so you can locate and review procedures in a snap. (I love this feature.) There's no formal index (my only serious disappointment), but there's a lovely annotated bibliography that not only lists works consulted, but describes and evaluates them.

Emotions can mire discussions in a La Brea Tar Pit of messy decline, but they can also elevate discussions and create bonds of mutual purpose. The authors describe how to prevent the first scenario and stabilize the second. They describe five core concerns that stimulate many emotions: Appreciation, Affiliation, Autonomy, Status and Role; they offer ways to handle strong emotions; they suggest ways to prepare for (and thus avert) disaster.

What's Wrong with Doing Your Duty?

Duty and obligation. In NVC, those words hold negative connotation, because they imply someone is giving you (or you are giving yourself) a should.

I don't think there's anything "wrong" with duty. The problem I see with labeling things "duty" is that it becomes easy to disconnect from the values and needs beneath the label.

I saw a documentary recently about New York firefighters on 9/11. I was struck by how often they talked about their duty. There was no sense of should; rather, of privilege and contribution. I thought of the police officers who deserted their posts during Hurricane Katrina, and the health-care workers who left nursing home patients to drown in the rising water. They weren't paid enough to risk their lives in emergency conditions, some said. I remembered the words of a FDNY firefighter who said, "If I wanted to become rich, I would've been a lawyer."

The FDNY sense of duty and obligation seemed to signal values of loyalty, reliability, trust, appreciation, gratitude and mutuality; what NVC would call "life-serving energy," not the energy-sapping, discouraging, anti-choice meanings to which NVC commonly refers when it talks about duty.

Nonviolent Communication (NVC) suggests that when we do something out of duty or obligation, there is typically a should involved that takes all the joy out of an action. As soon as you start telling yourself you should do something, it's an indication you're using guilt, blame, punishment or reward to coerce yourself, or you're telling yourself you "have to," because you have no choice. (And God help you if you start telling someone else what they should be doing!)

If you should be doing something, you aren't doing it. Why not? What stops you? There's something in the way: a belief, attitude, internal or external message, or something else. So how do you get unstuck?

I often make a list of the reasons I'm giving myself for doing or not doing something. You can do this, too. Take a blank sheet of paper and draw a big T across it. On the left side of the vertical line, write SHOULDS. On the right side, write BARRIERS.

On the left side, make a list of all the shoulds or reasons to do whatever it is you're resisting.

On the right side, list all the barriers, objections, dislikes, judgments, and obstacles to doing it.

Once you've made your lists, you can translate each statement into needs. Item by item, ask:

What values does this express?
What needs would it meet?

Use the NVC Needs Inventory for this process. (If you don't have one handy, visit the needs inventory at the Center for Nonviolent Communication.) During this process, use your feelings like a compass. If you quiet your mind and attend to the physical and emotional cues that are stirred up by each item on the list, these sensations will lead you toward the needs and values unmet by duty and met by the barriers.

Once you have translated all the items into needs, you will probably notice some that are "core," central, or most deeply held for you. Once this happens, you can start brainstorming tactics that would satisfy all your core needs.

Does this sound way too simple? Yeah. It ain't rocket science. It never ceases to amaze me how something so simple can smooth out the roadblocks.

Communication as a Sacrament

I co-facilitated an NVC training for a religious organization recently. For me, communication is a holy process. It can unite human beings in an activity of mutual respect and collaboration. It can inspire creativity, growth, learning, relief, compassion and love. Written communication can carry insights over millenia. When I read translations of ancient manuscripts, I have a sense of the sacred: I'm being given the opportunity to share the thoughts of people who haven't walked the planet for thousands of years.

Wow.

Of course, the messages are distorted by my own filters. I read with my 21st-century mind and my 21st-century perspective. I'm limited by my own assumptions, guesses, experiences. My curiosity -- or lack of it. (I remember the difference between reading Pride and Prejudice the first time, knowing nothing about Austen's culture, and the second time, having learned quite a bit more about manners of the time. P&P went from being a total bore to being one of my favorite books.

Request to self: Pay attention to my interactions with others on a day-to-day basis, and notice where my own filters may be corrupting their messages.

Put on giraffe ears!

Digging For Humor

Susan Skye is teaching an NVC Basics weekend, which I'm missing, because this is my only unbooked weekend in five weeks, and I'm wanting to spend my time doing errands, spending time with my partner and kitties, and tending to those things that I sometimes postpone longer than I intended.

I remember how excited I felt when I attended one of Susan's trainings for the first time. She has an academic background, and I loved the systematic, structural approach that explicitly described the interrelationship of some NVC components. There were also practical exercises... and lots of laughter and humor. Sometimes, NVC trainings seem somber to me. People carry so many unhealed wounds, it's easy to forget that life is also a source of exuberance, enthusiasm, joy, laughter, delight.

Request to self: Practice creating humor in "humorless" situations. (Be willing to do it silently!)

Needs Underlying Competition

Back in May, there was a report about high school football coaches in Connecticut facing suspension if they "rout" opposing teams. Coaches say it's "unnecessary" to win by large margins.

I'm curious about what they mean by "necessary." I'm not clear what this new rule is meant to achieve. Is it intended to keep the losing team from feeling badly? Is it meant to shift the purpose, or intention, of the game - from winning to something else?

I have friends who dislike the idea of competition because it creates "winners" and "losers." I don't agree that creating winners and losers is negative, in and of itself. When I was a kid, my grandfather told me, "It isn't whether you win or lose, it's how you play the game." It's been my experience, in the 40-some years on the planet, that "Sometimes you're the windshield; sometimes you're the bug." Peaks and valleys; ups and downs. It's part of life.

Also, I'm better than my friends are at some things; they're better than I am at others. Nobody's great at everything. Does that mean I feel crappy when my friends or coworkers outshine me? Only if I've got a stingy spirit.

Eleanor Roosevelt said, "No one can make you feel inferior without your consent."

Keeping score is one way of getting feedback, which is an important component of NLP and NVC. Am I paying attention? Am I being fully present to the game and to my teammates? Is my energy high? Am I playing to my strengths, and the strengths of others? Is my focus on what I'm doing well, or is it on my flaws? Am I distracted? Afraid? Arrogant? Worried? Am I so "in the flow" that there is no "me" or "them," it's just the rhythm of the game?

I worry that if we eliminate "winners" and "losers," we'll have attacked only the symptom - not the cause - of what we fear: creating a class of people who are "better"; more entitled to admiration, money, justice, comfort, respect, or whatever we value as a community.

I think about Shakespeare, Edison, Einstein, Salk, Steinbeck, Mozart, and all those whose works I feel grateful for. Would I have wanted them admonished to keep their achievements small, because it wasn't "necessary" to excel? Do I want to live in a society where people are encouraged not to do their best?