A Peaceful Resolution » Speak mindfully

Words that don’t piss people off

Andrew Lightheart — Tue, 11 May 2010 07:02:03 +0000

Pretty much any time we make a statement, the most we can truthfully say is:

Looking at the part of the world I’ve had access to through the filter created by my experiences, the part of me currently in control of the mouth thinks that…

What we actually say is:

It is…

This is what linguists call The Lost Performative – we mentally ‘lose’ the performer of the conclusion and treat the conclusion as if it were The Truth.

Then, bang, everyone else who says words that match The Truth are ‘right’ and everyone who says words that don’t match The Truth are ‘wrong’.

I’m wondering if there might not be less banging-of-heads in the world if we more regularly worked some of these into our lexicon:

~ A part of me feels like… (Another part of me thinks…!)

~ Something that keeps coming back to me at the moment is the thought that…

~ I’m wondering if…

~ It seems to me like maybe…

~ For me…

~ From my vision…

~ At the moment, I seem to be coming down on the side of…

~ So far…

~ I’m thinking it might be…

~ The part that sticks out to me is…

~ Could be.

If the world is provisional, certainty is insanity

Andrew Lightheart — Wed, 17 Feb 2010 09:09:13 +0000

These days, when I say, ‘You might be right,’ I often really mean it.

I remember when I first started working as an internal training officer (several life-times ago), I attended an assertiveness class. Phrases like ‘You might be right,’ and ‘Could be,’ were labelled ‘Verbal Judo’ or something, and were ways of taking someone’s challenge and allowing it to move past by not resisting it.

However, I’m beginning to realise that, well, you might be right.

Looking for hard in a fluid world

One Buddhist concept that helps me find some breathing space is the concept of finding ground.

In my very unscholarly way, this means that we are constantly looking to find something solid, something to hold on to.

Suffering, so the teaching goes, comes from trying to find ground in a world that is always and ever-changing.

And, really, there is no ground.

Because how do we know anything?

It’s possible that part of my experience is a hallucination. It’s possible.
It’s possible that my consciousness is an illusory by-product of my biology.
It’s possible that we live in the Matrix/a dream…
It’s possible that we are cells in the consciousness of the Squid-god.

It’s possible.

It’s also possible that I misremember.
It’s possible that I got the wrong end of the stick.
It’s possible that I’m missing some data.
It’s possible that I jumped to the wrong conclusion.
It’s possible that the people who raised me/taught me were wrong.

It’s possible.

In fact, it’s impossible to totally know.

I think.

The Challenger Experiment

Robert Burton quotes a study in his book On Being Certain.

In brief, on the day of the Challenger disaster, people were asked to write down where they were when they heard the news of the explosion.

A few years later, the participants were asked to review what they had written.

Often, their memory of where they’d been was different from what they’d written.

Thing is, they defaulted to their sense of certainty in the face of the data.

In fact, people were recorded has saying things like:

‘That’s my handwriting, but that’s not what happened.’

We are built to believe our sense of certainty.

So, yes, (seeing as this is a Speak So You Can Be Heard week), I’m saying that if you keep your words provisional, you will spark less conflict and so be more easily heard.

But I’m also saying that anything else flies in the face of the way life is set up.

Your words better be provisional because our experience of life is provisional.

It seems to me.

Maybe.

(Anyone want a ‘Certainty is Insanity’ tshirt?)

Please feel free to disagree with me.

Because, you know, you might be right.

Do you hear me?

Andrew Lightheart — Tue, 19 Jan 2010 10:09:35 +0000

Ok, kittens.

Seeing as it’s a Speak Mindfully week, I wanted to put up a normal Monday post about this week’s experiment.

I’ve been teaching for the past two days, so I don’t have time to make this into any kind of post I should press Publish on, but there’s a thought that’s been going ’round in my head for a few days, especially in the old crisis/conflict arena.

Here it is, ridiculously unvarnished:

Speak so you can be heard.

There are lots of reasons that people don’t hear you – you haven’t got their attention, there is too much going on in their head or they’re feeling too much for them to hear you, you have phrased things in a way that provokes a reaction in them, they don’t feel heard…

Might be worth, er, meditating/contemplating/rolling around your head.

Oui?

You are so wrong

Andrew Lightheart — Thu, 03 Dec 2009 21:08:57 +0000

Ok, here’s one.

Very little gets my back up more than someone telling me I’m wrong. (What? I’m working on it.)

I’m sure that doesn’t apply to you.

Thing is, I’ve noticed that if I go one level deeper, one level more specific, I think there’s a way of phrasing ‘You’re wrong’ that might not lead to pissing people off so much.

Here’s my hypothesis:

When you want to say, ‘No, you’re wrong,’ start the sentence with ‘I…’

For example…

No, you’re wrong I didn’t find them

I was in Changi airport this morning, and I got directions to the toilets. I didn’t find them. My first reaction was, ‘Puh, well, he was wrong.’

Luckily, I wasn’t grumpy, so I didn’t have to say that.

But what I would have meant by ‘You’re wrong’ is ‘I didn’t find them.’

No, you’re wrong I don’t remember it that way/I just don’t recall that

Now, at first glance, this sounds a bit Clinton-esque, but I’m not talking about lying.

This is when a Person You Care About says something about something that happened in the past that is patently not true (er…to you).

For example, ‘You said…’, ‘We agreed…’, ‘It was Wednesday…’, ‘We’ve never been there…’

Memory is appallingly unreliable, but feels totally dependable.

And this is one of those human condition things, that the other person feels just as certain about their memory.

And saying, ‘You’re wrong,’ is going to achieve no. Thing.

Differences in remembering lead to arguments that can’t be won, so the sooner you admit that although you remember things differently, you might be wrong, the sooner you can get on with your Extremely Short and Precious Life.

Rather than saying, ‘No, you’re wrong,’ maybe it might work to say, ‘Ok, I don’t remember it that way.’

Important note: you have to say it like you mean it. Surly, it no work.

(Note to self: Read Elizabeth Loftus about the inaccuracy of memory like you’ve been meaning to for, er, about 6 years.)

No, you’re wrong I see things differently/I came to a different conclusion

This one’s for when it’s a matter of opinion that you’re disagreeing on.

Opinions can’t be wrong, yet we get so hung up on our own point of view that we forget we made it from data, and often pretty sparse data at that (See Be Less Certain).

It’s the issue of the Lost Performative (see the article I haven’t yet written on The Lost Performative – it’s about how we lose the fact that we performed the conclusions we’ve drawn about the world. It’s totally interesting. In my HEAD.).

So what do you mean when you say, ‘No, that’s just not true,’ on matters that aren’t totally based around observable fact?

It feels wrong – how can someone else not see it? Especially when it’s so obvious… and especially when this isn’t even a matter of opinion. Not really…

Thing is, it’s always a conclusion. Admitting that might be useful.

No, you’re wrong I see myself differently

This is subset a, paragraph iii of ‘I see things differently’.

For when people say, ‘You’re so…’ and end with something less than flattering.

I think I stole this from Faber and Mazlish.

Now I’ve written it, it seems a bit annoying.

***

Somehow this made more sense when I wrote it in the middle of a long-haul flight.

I think the issue might be to phrase it in a way that’s not totally weird.

Oh, well, I did say this is a sketchbook…

(Internal Editor: See, they’re all going to unsubscribe now… )

Speak mindfully

Andrew Lightheart — Mon, 30 Nov 2009 10:45:28 +0000

The fourth principle/habit/practice/key/secret/thing of my four principles/habits/practices/keys/secrets/things that I think might help with fighting less is (adopts deep and wise voice):

4. Speak Mindfully

Ok.

A bit of meta-blogging.

My Inner Expert is desperate that I not write this article in this way.

He keeps talking about things like ‘a comprehensive framework’ and that people will scoff if I just churn out stuff that everyone has heard of like Non-Violent Communication, and even, dun-dun-dun, things that seem like active listening (especially after last week when I might have called active listening ‘evil‘).

So, Inner Expert…

Where Andrew has a private conversation with his Inner Expert

I appreciate your efforts to protect my credibility and not have me be laughed at.

Things here are aren’t quite like school, so you will notice that I’m going to write a bit differently than you prefer.

Remember, people have subscribed and commented so far, even with very little experting going on.

And we can delete the bullies if they turn up.

Ok?

Ok.

So.

There’s maybe something about speaking mindfully

Yes, there’s something about listening first, and keeping listening, and listening some more, but there’s also a time to speak when it’s time.

And when you speak, I think there’s something about choosing your words.

Something about not just blurting out whatever comes into your head, especially in the heat of the moment.

Something about expressing yourself perhaps a little tentatively, provisionally.

Something about speaking from as close to fact as possible, taking out some of the judgement and presuppositions.

Something about saying ‘I’, ‘From my perspective…’, ‘It seems to me…’, ‘I’m wondering…’.

Something about thinking how to frame things so that they don’t trigger people’s patterns.

Something about saying sorry, for your part.

Something about finding what you agree on first.

Something about doing your best to acknowledge the other person’s feelings and needs.

Something about expressing the impact someone’s actions had/have on you.

Something about maybe speaking a little more gently than you think is necessary.

There’s totally more…

I have so much to say about speaking… that I think I’d better leave it to compost for a bit.

My challenge this week:

Be mindful of the words I say and the way I say them and my part in the impact they have.

Books that immediately come to mind on this topic that I could and maybe should write a post or two about:

How To Talk So Kids Will Listen and Listen So Kids Will Talk – Faber and Mazlish
Non-Violent Communication – Marshall Rosenberg
Difficult Conversations – Stone, Patton, Heen & Fisher
Crucial Conversations/Crucial Confrontations – Patterson, Grenny, McMillan and Switzler
The Gentle Art of Verbal Self-Defence – Suzette Haden Elgin

***

Ah the speaking, so much to say.

The mindfulness… Hmmm, lots to learn.