Friday, April 16, 2010

Is Resentment Inevitable?

by Miki Kashtan

Recently I talked with a friend about why he harbors so much resentment towards his partner and their 13 year old child, that he sometimes reacts with intense anger to relatively minor snappy expressions. My friend, let’s call him Fred, wanted to free himself from the grip of unconsciously chosen anger, so he could choose how to respond.

Invisible Contracts
As we talked, Fred recognized that it’s highly unlikely that he can transcend his reactivity in the moment. It’s almost always too late. The moment of true power is earlier, when he makes his own choices about what he will or will not do.

Fred suffers from a common affliction I like to call being “overly nice.” Simply put, Fred tends to stretch towards his partner and his child, or say “yes” to what they ask of him. That “yes” often comes with an expectation, usually unconscious, that they will appreciate him later. Then, when they don’t show appreciation, he can easily experience it as a breach of an invisible contract they don’t even know they signed! No wonder he gets so angry.

Complete Ownership of Our Choices
The first practice Fred decided to adopt was simple: before he says “yes” he will check to see if he is genuinely able to do so without expecting anything later. Fred was shocked to discover how often he would then have to say “no.” I then offered him a middle strategy as well. If he couldn’t release his expectation, maybe he could be honest about it. He could say something like: “I'm willing to do it. I am so sad to say that I don't have the capacity inside to do it without building resentment. Would you like me to do it given how much of a stretch it is for me?”

Asking for What We Want
Fred was excited about how much freedom he could get just from learning to identify and honor his limits. For greater freedom, he decided to become equally honest and exacting with himself about what he wanted from his family and to take explicit action to make it happen. His continuous willingness to stretch had been hidden from his family, making it so much easier for them to take his “yes” for granted. Now he plans to be transparent about stretching so he could be seen.

He also intends to let his family know how much he wants appreciation, and to ask them to express appreciation whenever they notice it. Working his way towards expressing his need, Fred had further insight that self-respect is about how he treats himself, and has very little to do with how others treat him. This allowed him to glimpse the possibility of expressing to his partner in full the pain he sometimes experiences in their interaction, rather than masking his vulnerability with anger.

Freedom
I heard from Fred that in the first 24 hours of applying his practice he already experienced much more freedom than before. He said “no” to his child on a number of occasions. He noticed how much harder it was to say “no” to his partner. Even without changing all his habits, he experienced growing clarity, self-honesty, and choice, and reduced resentment. I like to believe that many of us can increase our sense of power in life if we become more honest about saying “no” when anything less than unattached generosity is motivating our choice, and if we grow in our capacity to ask for what we want.

Friday, April 9, 2010

Empathy, Obama, and Connecting across Differences



“Empathy [is] the act of understanding and being sensitive to the feelings and experiences of others. … Empathy is essential for any president… To be authentically empathetic, however, presidents must consider how policies affect all Americans.” Gary Bauer, Obama and the Politics of Empathy

Understanding Bauer’s Experience
After reading Bauer’s article, I want to extend another invitation for dialogue across the divide. I was struck by the depth of alienation from the current administration and President I see in his article. I want an opportunity to understand and to reach mutual trust about our care for each other’s well being. Is his main concern, in essence, a plea to have all voices matter, including those with whom the President disagrees? What else is important to him?

Understanding, Care, and Agreement
Empathy calls on us to open our hearts and imagination to others’ humanity. It’s easy to understand and show care for those similar to us. The challenge of empathy is precisely in the face of differences. How can we show care for others needs even when we say “no” to what they want? How can we understand and remain open and respectful even when we believe others’ positions are potentially harmful? How can we appreciate others’ suffering when we believe it’s caused by their own actions or misunderstanding? It seems that both Conservatives and Liberals have failed to step out of being themselves and to enter and understand another perspective.

Beyond understanding, conveying empathy to others in the face of disagreement makes the challenge of connecting across differences even more intense. For example, short of agreement with Bauer’s policy prescriptions, is there any way that Obama could convey to Bauer and others that their voices matter, and could affect the decisions he makes?

Coming Back to Essential Human Needs
In a country saddled with persistent core disagreements about most fundamental policy issues, connecting across differences seems essential for our continued functioning as a nation. What can we then do as common citizens, public figures, or the President, to cultivate and convey empathy?

My own hope rests on my experience that even in the most intense disagreements we share core needs, values, qualities, and aspirations that inform our opposing views. Here are two examples.

Bauer says: “Conservatives can be just as empathetic. But they believe that, in most cases, it’s not government’s role to be the primary dispenser of empathy.” What I read in this statement is care for people’s well-being mixed with a deep respect for individual freedom of choice. Although I disagree with Bauer’s view, I have no difficulty relating to these values, because I share them.

Bauer also says: “our children and grandchildren … will be saddled with paying for today’s unprecedented borrowing.” I am touched by our shared desire for the coming generations to be cared about, even though my worry about the next generations comes up in different contexts, not this one.

Can We Work Together?
Shifting attention to what matters most to each party to a debate can bridge seemingly insurmountable gaps. I dream of town hall meetings facilitated by skilled people. I want all participants express the core of what matters to them, and to hear each other across the divide. This is not a pipedream. Skilled individuals are available. Models of productive citizen deliberation exist and have been successful at finding policies that diverse groups with opposing views can embrace (see the Tao of Democracy, especially chapters 12 and 13). What would it take for the people of the United States of America to transform their town hall meetings from battleground to an opportunity to shape a shared future?
by Miki Kashtan

Tuesday, April 6, 2010

Nonviolence and Vulnerability

Just as one must learn the art of killing in the training for violence, so one must learn the art of dying in the training for non-violence. Violence does not mean emancipation from fear, but discovering the means of combating the cause of fear. Non-violence, on the other hand, has no cause for fear… He who has not overcome all fear cannot practice ahimsa.” (Gandhi, All Men Are Brothers, 104)
Courage in the Face of Fear
This quote has been haunting me ever since I first discovered it some years ago. I think about it several times a week. I find it so intense, so fascinating, and at one and the same time inspiring and discouraging. I know that the practice of nonviolence – whether in the social activism context, or in daily life – requires tremendous courage. In moments of great challenge this statement sometimes helps me find the courage to face my fear and continue anyway. At other times, in moments of darkness, the continued existence of such basic fear in me becomes so disheartening. If after all these years of rigorous training and practice I am still so often paralyzed, what is the point of even trying to teach nonviolence?

Today, as I am sitting here to write this, I am also wondering: if nonviolence, ahimsa, is about love, is moving forward through the fear enough? Is it possible to act on pure love when we are afraid? Are there different kinds of courage, one protected one not? What exactly are we choosing when we embrace nonviolence – either as a path, or in a particular moment?

Facing the Risks of Embracing Nonviolence
Since 1996 my own path of nonviolence has been embracing vulnerability. I have been systematically undefending and unprotecting myself. My sustenance and inspiration for this path come from experiences that are very remote from my own life. Gandhi, and his willingness to put his life on the line with complete commitment to love, openness, respect for his opponents. Jesus, whose commitment, as filtered to me through generations of interpretations, was to loving no matter what. Martin Luther King and the many people who worked with him to train a cadre of young women and men ready to face anything to implement their vision of respect for all people. Even though my own practice never endangers my physical survival, the risks of social isolation, humiliation, and loss of respect are equally frightening for my emotional self. I choose to face the risks, more and more over time. I lean on these figures, images of love and courage, in the most literal way to help me walk through abysses that sometimes seem bigger than my individual capacity.

Not Knowing
I am not settled. I face my fear and walk on, risk the consequences, and learn to survive them. Does this mean I will be less afraid next time? Will the responses affect me less next time? If I am vulnerable – enough – will there eventually be fewer consequences, more openness to the vision I am bringing forth, to my own individual self, to my own human fallibility? If I survive enough times, will I find more ease in the midst of the fear to unprotect my heart? I mean, not just gather my strength and move forward, but most literally lay down the armor that surrounds my innermost part and walk forward, embracing life as it unfolds in that moment? What exactly am I hoping for? What exactly am I trying to teach?

More questions arise. What can I tell people about how to act when fear is all-consuming? What did the students in the Civil Rights Movement do? Did they feel fear when they were sitting at the lunch counters and being ridiculed and beaten up? Did they continue despite the fear, or was there some vision, conviction, love, unity or anything else that transcended the fear complete for the moment? What made it possible for them to do what they did that is missing in our time?

The very act of writing this is part of my practice. I am writing about being unsettled, unsure, struggling with questions I don’t know how to answer. This is not a clear, confident, upbeat, or optimistic message. So why share it? Because truth is what I am after, whatever its flavor. Because exposing my uncertainty may invite you, too, into self-acceptance, and the willingness to let down your guard. Because knowing you are not alone in your struggle may just be what you need to keep going on your path. Because breaking down the isolation we live in may well be vital for deepening our collective exploration of how to face the challenges of our time and survive as a species.

by Miki Kashtan

Saturday, April 3, 2010

Empathy from Left Field – Part II

To support people in being able to reach a true empathic openness, I have often in the past conducted role plays in which I assumed the role of a much maligned figure, often George W. Bush, and asked people to enter dialogue with me by offering me empathy and understanding. Independently of people’s success in the activity (spotty), entering these roles has transformed me, because I now have a felt sense of what it might be like to be someone so different from myself. I was most moved when I imagined being the former president just about the time of September 11, 2001. I felt the weight of the responsibility, of having to make a decision about how to respond to the situation. I felt how awful it was to be hated by half my country.

Another time I engaged in a similar role play in which I was a soldier returning from Iraq only to face the judgments of others. As this soldier I was able to feel the outrage, the experience of not being understood at all for my profound willingness to sacrifice everything in order to protect the way of life of this country that’s so dear to me. I was able to feel what it was like to be together with others, risking my life, knowing I would do anything to protect theirs.

I feel less separate as a result. My own positions and views have not changed. But I now have a complete appreciation of the shared humanity of people who are far away from me on the political spectrum. I know that we have different worldviews, and I can hold that knowledge without losing understanding for the other worldview, even when I am frightened by the consequences I associate with it. I know that the fear is mutual. Conservatives are just as worried about my views, and what would happen if everyone espoused them, as I am about theirs. Knowing this helps me increase my compassion and understanding.

Opening Dialogue
Thursday night, on my TV show (posted on www.youtube.com/baynvc), I worked with the cast on a couple of “hot topics” of major differences. The first one was about the health care bill that just passed. I wish I had a true conservative in the studio. Instead, one member of the cast took on the role of a woman who thought of the bill as “Un-American” and undermining freedom. The other cast member took on the role of a Brit (which she is) who is strongly advocating for health care as a universal right. Together we worked on how to reach mutual understanding instead of arguing and trying to convince each other. Both were surprised, in the end, to recognize that they had shared values despite opposing views.

If Helen Smith, or anyone else who is Conservative and sees this post, is up for dialogue, I would be honored and touched. I mourn the fact that, as she says, I live in a bubble, with little that would bring me in contact with Conservatives. I mourn the fact that in order to teach empathy for Conservatives I must conjure up role plays instead of live dialogues. I hope she takes me up, because I want what I have learned about empathy to support healing the rift between the Right and the Left in this country. Yes, there are core differences as Haidt points out in his careful research. Yes, it may be that Conservatives are more able to empathize with Liberals than the other way around. I still maintain that we can connect across our differences. We may not immediately find ways to come closer on specific issues, but we can see our shared humanity, appreciate the struggles we face in understanding each other, and emerge with more humility and goodwill.

Friday, April 2, 2010

Empathy from Left Field

I love a good challenge, and Helen Smith’s recent article immediately called my attention. As someone who’s dedicating my life, in part, to increasing empathy all around in the culture, I found some of her comments painful, because they matched my own experience with liberals.

The Missing Empathy for the Right
In the social circles in which I find myself, and in much of the Left media, conservatives are regularly referred to as stupid (at best), backward, uncaring, or unevolved. At every opportunity I have, especially in my workshops, I invite people to look at what might be the underlying values behind conservative positions, to imagine how a decent fellow human could arrive at such opposing views. I wish I could contradict Helen Smith, but my experience only confirms what she says.

I see a complete dearth of genuine, open-hearted empathy towards conservatives. I regularly hear jokes at the expense of conservatives in my workshops, and I cringe. I am not conservative myself. Far from it! I find most liberals to be more conservative than me. I cringe because if I were a conservative, I would not experience Nonviolent Communication communities hospitable. I worked for several years with volunteers who are part of the campaign to create a department of peace in the US. They have not been able to cross the Democrat-Republican divide. As I see it, the obstacle was not the Republicans, but rather the challenge these activists had in being able to hear their opponents, listen with respect and care, imagine their values and deeper longings and aspirations, and be open to be affected by what they hear. What is dialogue, after all, if we are expecting others to change their views, positions, or strategies, without a comparable willingness on our part to be affected and changed by what we hear?

(tomorrow – more on cultivating empathy)

Wednesday, March 24, 2010

Power and Grace

When you think about power, what are some of the words or images that come to mind? More often than not, I’ve heard people associate power with domination, coercion, or extreme force. For many, their relationship with power is at best ambivalent. What if you were to think of power as the capacity to mobilize resources to attend to needs? What happens when you imagine increasing your internal resources, bringing more choice, decisiveness, and resilience to your life and work?

Wouldn’t you want a way to work directly on cultivating power?

Despite my clarity and strength, even relatively minor obstacles often interfere with my access to power. Since I hear similar experiences from many people, and since sharing my own experiences sometimes inspires others to live more fully, I decided to share with you in this post how I have been working to access more of my power.

Blocked access to power looks different for different people. My particular version looks like collapsing in the face of obstacles; paralysis and helplessness; giving up and resigning; or becoming abrupt, intense, or unpleasant as a way to scramble out of helplessness. Sometimes powerlessness shows up as waiting, just waiting – for the right person, the right circumstances, the right opportunity, the right project – so life could start, finally.

Practicing Power
Power would look like maintaining connection with what I want, and with a sense of possibility about moving towards it even in the face of obstacles. Power would look like choosing to live life fully now. It means choosing the circumstances in front of me instead of waiting. It means bringing all I have to life, to the world. It means risking disapproval and continuing to live the truth inside. That freedom is the power I want to have.

I have written previously about my gratitude practice at the end of the day. Now I start my day with an equally simple, almost mirror practice to work towards power. I review my day, what I know of what’s coming, not counting the unannounced, unplanned forceful flow of life. The next step is simply asking what I can do to be more powerful in each situation. What would bring more leadership? How can I be more intentional about attending to each moment to everyone’s benefit?

I slip away from the practice. Much of the time I lose my focus and wander. Or I don’t foresee the obstacles. Or I don’t know how to respond to them any differently from how I have in the past. This is the beginning of a practice, not the report on mastery. The whole point of practice is that when we start we are usually not good at what we are practicing. Still, even this early in my practice I can more easily imagine having a life that works for me. I can picture myself strong enough to face opposition on my way to share what I am called to share. I can see the possibility of being more relaxed, less challenging for some people. I am filled with curiosity about how it will be to face what life places on my path.

What about Grace?
This new practice creates an arc that balances power and grace. The morning, the power practice, is about thrusting myself into the world. I prepare myself to meet life. I gather my strength, my inner resources, all I have, to create, to bring my gifts to fruition. The night, my gratitude practice, is about surrender. I let go of any illusion that I by myself can do anything. I entrust myself to life. I focus on receptivity, on the gifts that life brings to me. I sink into other people’s kindness, their power to affect me.

Gratitude, nourishment, relaxation, inspiration, and beauty serve as fuel for life. Challenges, when we can meet them with our inner resources, serve as the fire that strengthens us. We become bigger, stronger, more able to face life, to prevail, to imagine new strategies to address obstacles, and new capacities to accept life. Without fuel, without grace, the challenges become overwhelming. Without the stretching, we run the risk of losing vitality, clarity of path, or our compass. I want both, in ample measure, for me and for everyone.

Tuesday, March 16, 2010

What Shall I Write about?

Today marks 3 weeks since I started this blog. I can barely keep up with the new ideas that come to me to write about (9 more in store). So why am I turning to you? Because I want more! I want your involvement. I want to be responsive to your ideas, visions, and wishes. I want to co-create this blog with you. Here’s grist for your thinking mill.

Reaching for Vision, Understanding, and Inspiration
I often hear from people that they are nourished by hearing me weave a vision of how we humans could live on this planet. Others tell me how much relief they feel from being able to hear my perspective about what makes human beings tick, about relationships, about social structures, or about power relations.

So, shall I write more of what I’ve been posting so far? I have enjoyed the mixture of personal reflection and larger ideas a lot. Here’s what’s in store. I could write a piece about how we can learn and grow through feedback even if it’s scary. Or maybe something about how we can embrace more of ourselves by bringing tenderness to our internal conflicts. Or maybe about how I’ve seen conflicts within groups become opportunities for deeper bonding and commitment.

Lessons from My Own Humanity
I also hear from people how inspired they are to witness my transparency about the places where I falter, struggle, or am unable to live my intentions in full. Giving voice to my vulnerability, fallibility, and human frailty seems to give people “permission” to be their own full humanity.

So, shall I write more about my own journey, including my struggles, insights, uncertainties, hopes, lessons? Shall I talk about the many times when my actions generate the opposite effect of my intention, and describe what I have learned and continue to learn from these occasions? Or shall I write about my regular bouts of despair about where the world is going and my helplessness about contributing sufficiently, and share how I transform despair to arrive at vision and determination? Or maybe I could write about how tenderness towards myself and support from others are helping me learn to respond, in moments of difficulty, with a sense of choice instead of reacting based on trauma I carry?

“Dear Miki”
Lastly, I have heard from many people how much relief and strength they receive from me support them with empathy and coaching for their questions, conflict situations, and challenges. Others have expressed how much they enjoyed the Conflict Hotline (available as a CD or DVD, and freely accessible on youtube). Even though what they see or hear are not their questions, they find them meaningful and relevant.

So, would you like me to start a “Dear Miki” feature as part of this blog? That would be fun, too. You could ask about challenging situations in your life. Or you could ask to make sense of people’s actions that you don’t understand. Or you could get support to live more in line with your values.

Turning to You
So, what would you like me to write about? What questions do you have? What visions inspire you that you want more of? Write comments with your ideas, topics, and questions. No worry, I won’t wait until I hear from you. I will keep writing what comes from my heartmind – planned, or unplanned (the last 3 entries), regardless. I just would like to be responsive to what you want. I appreciate your presence in this corner of my world.