To Train Or Not To Train

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My sister and brother-in-law run marathons.  No, wait, they are elite marathon-running machines.  By next weekend, they will have run 150 marathons between them in just a few years, including Ironmans and ultramarathons, in 39 states and at least 7 countries.  They lead training groups for Team to End AIDS and enjoy a loyal following of running enthusiasts and friends.  So you can imagine my honor when they recently told me, “You could totally run a marathon, Cathy.  You’re already more fit than a lot people who start training.”

For a moment I actually considered it, because wouldn’t that be so cool, to enter that elite circle?  Then I quickly remembered: I. Hate. Running.  …For now.  But it got me thinking recently–talking politics may be like marathon training.  Some people really like it and do it well (by ‘well’ I mean they are informed, articulate, respectful, and engaging with people from all points of view—their discourse is elevated).  They resemble my sister and brother-in-law: athletes who consistently perform at the top of their training, with few or no injuries, leading others to follow in similar aspirations.

Other people, however, would sooner feed themselves through a wood chipper than strap on a pair of running shoes, or engage in political discussions.

Most of us are somewhere in the middle, I suspect.  I can run a few miles with my trainer if she makes me–the conversation and scenery distract me and the time goes by faster.  And I know I can slow down or take a rest if I have to–it’s safe.  But I have many other preferred exercise activities.  Could we consider talking politics as the elite marathoning of communication?  It is so hard to do well!

When I think of long distance running my mouth goes dry.  I get short of breath and my knees hurt already.  I feel the incredible slog, one heavy step after another–not at all like what I imagine my family feels, bounding weightlessly like antelopes toward their next PR.  I experience a version of the fight-or-flight response, a visceral sensation of threat: I’ll have blisters everywhere, I’ll never make it to the end, they’ll have to carry me, I’ll have a heart attack and die!

Maybe some people have a similar reaction to politics?  I don’t know enough, it’s too complicated.  It’s overwhelming, I’ll look ignorant, people will judge and shame me before I can even finish a thought.  It’s all so emotional, I can’t handle that, it will only escalate into conflict, my relationships will all be at risk, I’ll lose all my friends!

As you may have read, I have been trying to get some conservative friends to engage face to face.  I am genuinely curious about their points of view; I want to understand.  I want to practice my skills—curiosity, openness, empathy, identifying shared interests, withholding judgment.  Two invitations were initially met with a non-response.  After a follow up call or two, I am scheduled to meet one set of friends for dinner this week, and the other said he was too busy.  I feel like I’m dragging them out running when they would much rather play golf or go bowling.

I have realized: we don’t all have to keep up with every day’s new political freak shows.  We don’t all need to be the debate champions of our particular ideology.  Not everybody has to be a marathoner.

HOWEVER:

We all need exercise.  The body is built to move.  Regular physical activity, as we all know, reduces our risks of obesity, diabetes, and heart disease.  Did you also know it can decrease depression, dementia, and even cancer?  So pick your sport—just do some kind of movement every day!

Similarly, even if we don’t all talk politics, we all need effective communication skills, especially in the arenas of conflict resolution, negotiation, parenting (which encompasses them all), and the like.  We are social beings—we only survive by cooperating and living well within our tribes, and by tribes living well among one another.  That can only happen if we practice getting along.

So if you’re not a runner/marathoner, what do you do?  What is your thing, how often do you engage, and what keeps you coming back?  If you hate talking politics, how else are you already a great communicator?

Maybe you’re a natural at getting your toddler/tween/teen to see the wisdom of the rules and getting their buy-in to follow them.

Maybe you can always help your boss and coworker iron out their differences because you can understand both sides (are you in HR?).

Maybe you like to debate the merits of the Marvel Comic Universe vs. DC—and you could argue both sides because it’s just more interesting that way.

We all have areas where we shine, where we contribute to the tribe through words and actions.

I have picked up some tips along the way:

  1. Validate people’s feelings, even if you don’t agree with their position or behavior.
  2. Stay open to the 2% truth of an opposing philosophy or idea.
  3. Withhold judgment on the whole person even though they espouse an ideology you despise, at least until you know from multiple encounters that they have no shred of kindness or humanity in them.
  4. Look for what you have in common with people, and choose to focus there more than on how you differ.

So even if you’re not an elite running machine like my sister and brother-in-law, or you’re not your community’s foremost political pundit, know that your other training matters.

I may complete a marathon someday…  Never say never.  For now I’m happy to stick with my TRX, kettle bells, 7 minute and Betty Rocker workouts (once again, I have no financial interests in any of these businesses).  I appreciate my family’s invitation to run, and I respectfully decline at this time.  Similarly, I will try to be more mindful about inadvertently pressuring people to talk politics.  It’s never meant to be adversarial, only a bid for connection—I’m looking for training buddies!

I don’t need everybody to talk politics.  But I do need everybody to practice excellent communication, especially in political discourse.

We all need that.

Two Buttock Riding

 

Continued from last week…

My objective for the coaching session was to figure out where I really want to put my energy for the foreseeable future.  I felt essentially torn between my paraprofessional activities (writing and speaking on physician health, patient-physician relationship, bridging silos in medicine) and my nascent political activism (community involvement, calling and writing to Congress, thinking of running for office someday??).  It felt like I should choose, and yet something told me they could be integrated.

Highlights from the call:

What is your goal for the end of this session?

Clarity and direction; movement.  Readiness to act.

How close are you already?

85-90%

How will you know when you have it?

Hard to describe…  It will be a dual certainty, like choosing furniture, knowing whether I like a person: cognitive and visceral.  It will feel decisive.

How are you feeling now?

Overwhelmed, distracted.  [Recall Doug the dog, in the movie, “Up”—Squirrel!]  OMG there is too much to keep up with: Healthcare, Russia, immigration, refugees, border security, Russia, EPA, what-the-hell-did-he-just-say-and-what-the-hell-does-that-mean?, racism, misogyny, intolerance, Russia, free speech, NIH funding, science, climate change, women’s rights, the Persisterhood, congressional seats up for grabs across the country, and oh yeah, the rest of my actual life.  Every day five new things to look up, articles on both left and right to compare notes, filtering facts from spin, trying to stake independent and educated positions backed by evidence!  GAAAAHH!

What would happen if you didn’t do that?

I do what do, spend hours a day reading and trying to engage in discussion (in person and on social media), in order to be credible in my conversations, to engage from a place deeper than superficial rhetoric or simple emotional reactivity.  My big fear: If I don’t do it, I will become one of those loud-mouthed, uninformed ranters who has no evidence for my broad-brush, oversimplified generalizations and ad hominem attacks.

What is the 98% truth about that?

Not likely to happen.  That’s just not me, I don’t do that.  I always look for evidence to back up what I say, and when I don’t have it, I own up.  If I don’t know what I’m talking about, I listen more and ask more questions, or I don’t engage until I have something useful to contribute.

And the 2% truth?

There is still a risk.  I may spew sometimes—when I get triggered and e(motionally)-hijacked.  I feel particularly susceptible right now, with all of my core values and our generation’s social progress seemingly under attack.

AND, I never live here.  I may wallow a few days (1-2 weeks, max), stewing in cynicism and resentment.  But I always rise up, usually with the help of others, with writing, and with time.  I always come out having learned something, and resolving to apply the learning (usually about myself and my relationships) to whatever comes next.

***

Insights gained:

I’m okay.

In reviewing my time spent on my screens each day, I realize most of it edifies me and connects my mental dots of current events, social science, and personal meaning.  I know not to spend time on baseless rants and otherwise rhetorical opinion pieces.  I choose articles with links to data, history, and primary sources, and ones that challenge my thinking or oppose my positions (sometimes).  I look for nuance, complexity, examples of collaboration and compassionate leadership.  This is what I spend my time and energy on; it broadens my perspectives and integrates the knowledge and ideas I already have.  It fosters my own creativity and philosophy.  This is who I am.

It’s the blog.

This is what I want to spend my energy on.  It’s my platform, my thing.  All the paraprofessional stuff I do was born of this: What gives doctors meaning is the relationships we get in our work—mostly with patients, but also with one another and society at large—status, respect, contribution.  Physician, wellness/resilience, the intersection of health and leadership, bridging silos (physicians, nurses, pharmacists, insurers, hospital administrators)—it’s all about relationships.  And, so is politics.

Therefore, I will use this blog for all of it. I can share my letters to Congress.  I can continue to write about physician-patient relationship.  I know I have written about this before, but somehow it required some reinforcement:  It’s all connected, and it’s all me.

FEAR.

Of course, that’s what really holds me back (yup, written about that before, too).  Fear of attack, rejection, overwhelming engagement obligation and getting sucked into negative, counterproductive exchanges with strangers.  Fear that I have nothing useful to say.  Someone else has already said it better and reached more people.  Who am I to think that my words matter?  It’s all so paralyzing.

I got this.  

I’m ready.  It’s time.  Because: Nothing I say or write, at work or on Facebook or anywhere, is anything I would not say or write in public.  Integrity is important to me—to be the same person in private that I am in public.  I’ve been practicing, and getting better, as evidenced by the civil exchanges I facilitate on my Facebook page (which I will also share more of), bringing together friends from different walks of life in meaningful conversation.  We exchange important ideas, always concluding cordially, all relationships intact and even, I daresay, strengthened.

And, my blog is my space.  I get to manage who comes on (into my house), and I make the rules for how we engage (no poop flinging).  I don’t comment on public sites like Washington Post or New York Times, or large Facebook groups (usually) because that is like leaping into a flash mob of the worst kind.  There is no meaningful exchange or benefit for anyone.  Here, threads can be more personal, meaningful, and transformative.

***

New Goals:

Shift the Boundaries.

I can push my fearful limits and present myself more confidently to the world.  I can choose to plant more color and texture in my front yard.  I can also dig it up and throw it out if I realize it clashes with the house.  It’s all good.  And I must also mind the costs, especially to my family.  So, I can bring them closer by putting the screens out of arms’ reach when I’m with them.  Easier said than done, and definitely worth the effort.

Focus on the WHY.

It’s all about cultivating productive, contributory relationships–first with myself, then with others, and then between all of us, for more peace, love, and joy for us all.

Publish Weekly.

If this is where I want to put my energy, then I want to have something to show for it.  Plus, it’s therapeutic.  Writing calms me, which I need now more than ever, as you can see.  For now I can stop chasing conference presentations, formal leadership roles, Daily Actions to prove I am an engaged citizen.  I can simply write when I am moved—and I am always moved—and share it here.

See you next week!

 

Sharing an Emotional Request

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Exploring the Rules of Engagement for Healthier Political Discourse, Third Query.

I’m still working on how to balance it all.  Every day I wake up and before long I feel tense, asking myself, “What can I do today to make a positive difference to our country?  How can I make my voice, calling for collaboration and connection, heard?”  It’s a struggle to extricate myself from that, and be present to work, family, chores, etc.

But I think I’m doing better.  Every day I feel an urge to write.  I have ordered postcards with the Healing Through Connection photo, title, and URL, to write to Congress.  I figure, if I’m going to write to them, they might as well know who I am and what I stand for (which, I hope, this blog makes pretty clear).

I’m never sure how effective it is to send emails via senators’ and representatives’ web pages, does anyone know?  Well anyway, it probably can’t hurt, and it makes me feel better that I’m doing something.  Today I started with my US representative, writing about Donald Trump’s conflicts of interest and ties to Russia.  I then copied, pasted, and edited to send to each of my senators.  I noticed that each time I revised, I added a sentence or two that brought my personal perspective on government into clearer relief.  It’s not just about policy.  It’s about how policy gets negotiated–which is about communication and relationships.  Finally, I wrote to Senator John McCain, chair of the Senate Armed Services Committee.  The letter is below.  Ironically, I forgot to include the link to this blog.  But that’s okay, I’ll probably write him again soon.

I’m pretty proud of this letter (email).  I think it’s respectful and validating, while also challenging.  I tried to imagine Senator McCain actually reading it.  I want him to feel seen–to understand that though I am not his constituent or a member of his party, I still appreciate him as a person.  We are all in this together, and I want him to feel supported by people ‘on the other side.’  I want to embolden any part of him that wishes to make an emotional appeal to his colleagues.  Whenever we see the word ’emotional’ we immediately, subconsciously, also think ‘hysterical.’  They are far from synonymous, and I want to take that stigma away.

Two articles I read this week support my conviction for taking an emotional/limbic approach to political conversations.  The first was a detailed piece in The New Yorker that describes the science behind why facts don’t change our minds.  Second was an October article in the Harvard Business Review on how to engage and make it safe for people (Trump supporters in particular) to change their minds and positions.  It does not specifically reference the Harvard Negotiation Project, but it reminds me in many ways of the book Getting to Yes, written by HNP founders William Ury and Roger Fisher.  I plan to write more about principles from this book in the coming weeks.  I have listened to it again since the election, and it helps ground me.

I thought about sharing my letter on one of the many secret, liberal groups on Facebook, and/or on my personal page.  But somehow it felt more appropriate to share here.  I am aware that this makes me vulnerable to public attacks on my politics and positions.  With engagement comes risks, so boundaries are in order.  My boundaries here are the same as on Facebook:

  1. No ad hominem.
  2. Keep your comments respectful and civil.
  3. Read the entire post before commenting.
  4. I reserve the right to remove comments that violate the requests above.  Commenting on this blog is like coming into my home and talking to me.  I would not allow you to fling fecal words in my home, at me or my other guests, and the same principle applies here.

What do you think?

*** *** ***

Dear Senator McCain,

Thank you for your decades of service to our country.

I am a liberal independent from Chicago, a woman, a daughter of immigrants, and a physician.

I remember the 2008 campaign and how you treated Barack Obama with respect and professionalism.  I remember how you corrected the woman at a debate when she claimed he was an Arab.  You made a deep impression on me that night, for manifesting integrity with unwavering conviction.  I see you doing it again now, as we face the profoundly alarming and appalling existential threat of the new administration.

I write today to request that you consider how best to use your influence and credibility, with your longstanding tenure in the military and the Senate, to encourage and empower your colleagues, especially those on the right, to stand up for the conscience of the nation.  We need a comprehensive, bi-partisan investigation into Donald Trump’s many conflicts, and especially those with Russia. I know you already support this.

I have no idea what it must be like in your work.  But as a primary care physician, I talk to people for a living, trying to help them change their behavior to more closely align with their long term health goals.  It takes kindness, persistence, patience, presence, and trust.  Simply arguing facts and positions does not work.  We need to appeal to people’s emotions–to their deeply held (and perhaps forgotten or buried?) values of integrity, responsibility, accountability, and conscience.  We humans are emotional decision-makers, though we think ourselves so rational.  Research tells us that much of the time, we simply rationalize.  Thus, to change people’s behavior, we need to shed emotional light, with compassion and empathy, on the discrepancies between their actions and their integrity.  And we need to make it safe for them to admit to those discrepancies, rather than shame them for it.  Only then will they, slowly, make meaningful change.

I imagine that over the years, you have cultivated the relationships with your colleagues that paved the way for the important conversations that must happen now.  Please, for all our sakes, engage with your colleagues around your common humanity and shared mission of protecting our democracy, and of showing the world that our government is one of integrity.

Thank you, and best wishes to you and your family.

Sincerely,

Catherine Cheng, MD FACP