Attune and Attend, Conclusion

546782_4331875609644_1120262410_n

Two posts ago, I related my friend’s experience of feeling unseen and dismissed during a visit to establish care with her new primary care doctor.  I blamed the doctor for not listening, for not exercising his relationship power with enough responsibility.  Last week I described how I see medicine as a complex system, in which each of us is both a contributory and affected member.  I alluded in both posts to forthcoming ‘solutions. ‘

If you have read the last two posts, what were you expecting here, in the last installment?  Quite honestly, the closer I came to writing, the more nervous I got, as if I had promised to deliver some groundbreaking algorithm for instantly fixing physician-patient relationships and our healthcare system at large.  Um, no, sorry.  Hopefully what I write will still be useful.

Events these past weeks have really highlighted for me the profound importance and vulnerability of relationships in a system.  At my kids’ school, a veteran and beloved teacher was terminated suddenly.  No students, staff, faculty or parents were given any warning.  Communication was sparse and poor, and few if any in the community saw evidence of a plan for instruction and emotional support of students in the aftermath.  Students, faculty, and parents alike have raised questions and concerns, all, in my opinion, met with evasion and deflection.  Worst of all, the administration repeatedly refused to acknowledge or own the profoundly negative impact of their actions on their relationships with the school community—a community which they proudly claim to steward.

Once trust has been violated and relationships damaged, the road to recovery looms long and ardent.  Apologies—sincere and heartfelt—serve a necessary and vital role in repair, but they are only the beginning.  We all make mistakes.  But too few of us own up to them and take full responsibility, especially when we have hurt others.  In a medical or educational community, I think we focus too much on scientific and objective decision making, and too little on relationships.  That is to say, we manage the former very intentionally and critically, and the latter only in passing.  This is how, for instance, a surgeon ends up saying to patients, “I can’t help you,” when surgery is not a viable treatment option.  We can always help.

In recent months I have listened to and read myriad resources that point me to some simple (and not easy) guideposts for relationship cultivation and repair.  I have listed the guideposts and their references below.  None of them will surprise you.  You may even roll your eyes and think them cliché.  And yet, all of us in all of our overlapping systems and tribes could do a little better at these practices—physicians and patients, teachers and students, leaders and those they lead.  Which one will you attune and attend to now?  What else should be on the list?

 

Curiosity

By its nature, curiosity makes us open and willing to see more, learn more, and understand more.  What if we got more curious about other people’s feelings and their origins?  What if we did that for ourselves?  Why, for instance, do I get angry when I perceive someone trying to tell me what to do without asking first what I’m thinking?  Could they be motivated by something other than a desire to control and oppress me?  How else could I respond if I thought they were trying to help me solve a problem, if I interpreted their actions as caring rather than interfering?  Check out the distinctions between diversive, epistemic, and empathic curiosity described by Ian Leslie below.  Then the next time you feel conflict coming on, consider these questions (asked in a truly curious tone):

What is this about?

Huh, what else?

Curious, by Ian Leslie

The Art of Possibility by RS and B Zander

Rising Strong and Dare to Lead by Brené Brown.

Kindness

Smiling at a stranger, extending a hand to shake, holding a door, saying hello—small acts of kindness go such a long way.  They benefit not only the recipient and the actor, but also bystanders and witnesses.  Kindness is a primary currency of connection, and reserves can be infinite.  We should never underestimate the potential tidal waves of global benefit from our dropping a pebble of kindness in the waters of humanity.  When a stranger holds the door or my patient asks about my kids, in that moment I feel seen.  I connect with you, my kind counterpart.  My heart lifts ever so slightly, and I am grateful.

A Year of Living Kindly, blog and book by Donna Cameron

Forgiveness

Forgiveness can feel infinitely harder than small acts of kindness.  Will my friend forgive her doctor?  Will I forgive my kids’ school administrators?  What good does it do to carry around grudges, does that get us what we want?  Where else can we direct the energy we expend holding so tightly to resentment?  Could we use it instead to ask, honestly, “What is this about?” or to utter a kind, compassionate word?  Can we see people as people, flawed and trying their best, rather than objects, obstructions, annoyances, and unworthy?

TED Radio Hour, Forgiveness

Leadership and Self-Deception and The Anatomy of Peace by The Arbinger Institute

Accountability

When I hit and dent a parked car, I should leave a note owning my mistake and offering to make up for it—even if I slid on ice, or my child was crying in the back seat, or the other person’s car was parked poorly.  If someone damages my car, I expect the same.  The more we can all/each take responsibility for our own part in any conflict or situation, no more and no less, the better off we will all be.  The key here, when we show up to others, is to do it without qualification.  It’s not, “Yes, I hit your car, but…”  It’s, “I hit your car.  I’m sorry.  How can I make it right?”  I may think you were also in the wrong, but pointing that out in the middle of an argument will not help you own your part, which I need you to do for us to connect and heal.  You may never own your part, and I have no control over that.   But perhaps my example will influence you or others over time.  Humans tend to reciprocate, and mutual exchange of accountability can heal many relationship wounds.

7 Truths About Accountability That You Need to Know”, Inc.com

Humility

Nobody knows everything, even experts.  And certainly when meeting another human, we cannot possibly know all that has shaped their beliefs, values, and emotions, both in the past and in the moment.  In medicine we have never known more than we do today, and it seems to me that for every new piece of knowledge we acquire, we also discover a hundred new things we didn’t know we didn’t know.  So what gives me the right to assume I have all the answers—that I have nothing to gain or learn by asking curiosity questions?  Why should I feel the need to appear all-knowing?  The opposite of humility is arrogance, and we all know how hard it is to be around people like this.  Turns out students and leaders alike, who practice humility, succeed more than their less humble peers.  Makes sense—humility connects us to others, while arrogance separates.  It’s vulnerable, though, and that can be uncomfortable.  But if we have already cultivated our relationships with curiosity, kindness, forgiveness and accountability, perhaps humility can come a bit more easily.

“The Benefits of Admitting When You Don’t Know” by Tenelle Porter

Empathy

In the end, I believe empathy will save us.  It is the bedrock on which the other skills are built.  Google dictionary defines empathy as “the ability to understand and share the feelings of another.”  It will save us because this is how we truly connect to one another.  But it’s not enough to just have the ability to understand and share others’ feelings.  In order for empathy to connect us, we also need to effectively express that understanding and share the emotions actively.  Active empathy allows us to take another person’s perspective.  It keeps us out of judgment and blame.  It helps us recognize others’ emotions by recognizing our own familiar experiences—empathy is how we relate.  It is the medium of relationship.  Some people possess the gift intuitively.  And it can be learned!  Medical training programs across the country have taught doctors how to be more empathic.  Patients of more empathic physicians do better.  And, physicians themselves do better, too–we feel less burned out and more fulfilled in our work.  We all do better when we connect.

Watch a cartoon and hear Brené Brown explain the importance and benefits of empathy.

“How to Teach Doctors Empathy” by Sandra Boodman

The Empathy Effect by Helen Reiss, MD

 

Please forgive the length this time, friends.

What did you think?  In your next encounter with your doctor or your boss, what do you anticipate?  What do you fear?  How does it feel?  What is that about?  Which of these skills could help?  How will you acquire/hone it?  What help do you need?  What will be better if you achieve it?

What else should be on the list?

Grudges and Boundaries

IMG_0108

Has someone wronged you recently?  Long ago?  (How) Does it still affect you?  Are you a grudge holder?  Does someone hold a grudge against you?

Last night I gathered with good friends and this topic came up—we go deep, my friends and I.  Of course, it started me thinking and wondering:  What does it mean to hold a grudge?  When I hold a grudge, what do I actually do?  What is the motivation?  What are the consequences?  When/how/why does it resolve, if ever?  As we talked, it felt straight forward at first.  Everybody knows how it feels to hold a grudge—but how do you describe or define it?

Google dictionary defines it:

Grudge: /ɡrəj/

noun

a persistent feeling of ill will or resentment resulting from a past insult or injury.

“she held a grudge against her former boss”

synonyms: grievance, resentment, bitterness, rancor, pique, umbrage, dissatisfaction, disgruntlement, bad feelings, hard feelings, ill feelings, ill will, animosity, antipathy, antagonism, enmity, animus;

informala chip on one’s shoulder

“a former employee with a grudge”

verb

be resentfully unwilling to give, grant, or allow (something).

“he grudged the work and time that the meeting involved”

synonyms: begrudge, resent, feel aggrieved about, be resentful of, mind, object to, take exception to, take umbrage at

“he grudges the time the meetings use up”

 

The more we thought about it the worse it felt to me.  I’m reminded of the saying that hatred hurts the hater more than the hated.  Grudges feel like dark clouds hanging over my consciousness, chilling my soul, or at least casting a cold shadow on my joy, freedom of emotion, and possibility for connection.  My friends and I contemplated the utility of grudge holding.   What good does it do, what need does it meet?  I think it’s protective—a defense mechanism, a way of not being vulnerable again—armor, as I believe Brené Brown would call it.

I asked my friends last night, “So is it holding a grudge, or is it setting a boundary?”  I wondered if they are the same or different.  After all, both make you behave differently toward the other person.  But I think it matters whether and how we judge the other person.  When I hold a grudge, I judge the whole person based on the bad thing (I perceive) they did to me.  I may generalize from my own negative experience and write them off as wholly selfish, ignorant, narcissistic, and unworthy of my compassion and empathy.  Perhaps I start to depersonalize them, make them into an abstraction right in front of my eyes—dehumanize them.  Does that seem like an extreme description?  Even so, doesn’t it still describe the feeling?   When I hold a grudge, I do not—cannot—like or even relate to the person.  I avoid them, don’t want to be in the same room with them.  I don’t trust them.

I listened to The Thin Book of Trust by by Charles Feltman (referenced by Brown in her book Dare to Lead) this past week.  He describes four distinctions of trust:  Sincerity, Reliability, Competence, and Caring.  He suggests that when we find someone else untrustworthy, it’s likely that they have disappointed us in one or more of these elements.  I have assumed for a long time that the person I hold a grudge against simply does not care about me or my well-being.  Feltman suggests that of the four distinctions, this may be the hardest one to overcome when violated.  My story about this person is that they don’t care about me, therefore they are categorically untrustworthy.  So I feel justified in denying the validity of their point of view, minimizing their achievements, and casting them as the permanent villain in my story.

Yuck.  That perspective does not align with my core values.

So what can I do?  Maybe rather than holding a grudge, I can simply reorient myself to our relationship.  Instead of harboring bitterness and ill will, can I instead learn, synthesize, and integrate some new information?  When I’m wronged, maybe I can say, with curiosity more than resentment, “How fascinating!”  Maybe I can take care of my own feelings, connect with people I do trust, and regroup.  Then I can decide how I want to present to this person hereafter.  I can set some new boundaries.

Rather than dismiss the person as uncaring in general and holding this against them, I can do other things.  First, I can withhold judgment on their caring and make a more generous assumption.  For example, I feel un-cared for by them, but perhaps their way of expressing caring is different from how I receive it.  I can look for alternative signs of caring.  Or perhaps they truly don’t care about me, but I need to work with them anyway, so I had better figure out a way to do it—are they at least sincere, reliable, and competent?  How must I attend to myself, so I can honor my core values, get the work done, and not get hurt (or at least minimize the risk)?  Second, I can set clear boundaries in our relationship.  I can point out behaviors that I will not tolerate, and call them out if they happen.  I can set realistic expectations about agendas, objectives, methods, and contact.  I can give honest and direct feedback with concrete examples of words or actions that require attention and remedy.

Many thanks to my thoughtful and engaging friends who stimulate these explorations.  I can feel my grip on the grudge loosening already.

Honesty and Integrity

IMG_4487

NaBloPoMo 2018:  What I’m Learning

Last day!  I’m feeling a little elated.  Not sure if it’s Day 30 relief and success, the abnormally large caffeine load I had today, or my awesome breakfast date…

I wish you all to have a friend like Donna.  She is one amazing woman.  A leadership coach, wife, mom, and fellow cosmic journeyer, I count myself infinitely lucky to know her this time around on earth.  I bet we’ve known each other longer than that, though.  We met in this life about 9 years ago.  I can count on one hand the number of people I remember propositioning for a coffee date on our first meeting, and Donna is one.  We meet every two or three months to commune, share, and grow.  I consistently experience two or three separate intellectual and spiritual epiphanies each time.

Today was no exception, and possibly even an exponentially positive anomaly.  Like I said, I’m caffeine loaded and coming off a 30 day freestyle writing challenge—I was primed!  The conversation was so profound I had to type out some notes afterward, as I sense future writings to spring therefrom.  Day 30 was the perfect day to meet her!  I have synthesized and integrated deeply this month thanks to this daily blogging discipline, and sharing with Donna was the quintessential culmination of it all.  I now share with you my favorite segment from our egg-and-toast-laden love-in.

I described a values exercise I did reading Dare to Lead by Brené Brown.  From a list of over 100 words including accountability, courage, faith, openness, respect, and truth, I had to choose two core values, or think of two of my own.  Brown writes:

The task is to pick the two that you hold most important.  …almost everyone…wants to pick somewhere between ten and fifteen.  But you can’t stop until you are down to two core values.

Here’s why:  The research participants who demonstrated the most willingness to rumble with vulnerability and practice courage tethered their behavior to one or two values, not ten…  and when people are willing to stay with the process long enough to whittle their big list down to two, they always come to the same conclusion that I did with my own values process:  My two core values are where all of the ‘second tier’ circled values are tested.

Values list

Dare to Lead, page 188

I listened to this book twice before I received my hard copy from Amazon.  I could. not. Wait!  In anticipation of doing the exercise, I thought the whittling process would take a long time—that I would agonize over it.  But as I skimmed the pages approaching the list, in a cosmic flash, I realized my two: Honesty and Integrity.  It was one of those ‘you just know’ moments, but I had to check in.  Really?  Was I sure?  How did I know?  How could I prove it?  I turned the page and scrutinized every word, comparing it in importance to these two.  Accountability?  Yes, but not as much.  Equality.  Fairness.  Gratitude.  Learning.  Openness, Optimism, Stewardship, and Wholeheartedness:  all important, but not nearly so much as Honesty and Integrity.  I was done.  As surely as I felt self-actualized in seventh grade, I am sure these are my core values.  A few days later, I was describing this moment to another thoughtful and astute friend.  She mulled for a moment and said, “Yes, I agree, I see these as your core values, too.”  Wow, I cannot think of a higher compliment.

Today when I told Donna, her first response was, “Honesty and Integrity… What is the distinction between the two?”  What a great question!  I had a vague, intuitive idea, but had never taken the time to think it through.  As happens so easily when I’m with Donna, and as a person who talks to think, the answer poured forth after only a few seconds.  I used a real life example:

Let’s say my friend asks me, “Does this dress make me look fat?”

Honesty compels me to answer truthfully.  Yes.  Honesty keeps me from lying.  That is outside of my core values, no can do.

Integrity helps me choose my words.  This dress does not flatter your figure the way a different style would.  We are here to choose the dress that makes you look positively stunning and we will not leave until our mission is accomplished!  Integrity frames my response in line with all of my other, ‘second tier’ values: kindness, diplomacy, empathy, love, loyalty, and all the rest.

Thus, Honesty tells me what I cannot do.  It gives me constraints and standards.  Honesty is the guardrail, the floor for my code of conduct.  Integrity then tells me what I can and must do.  It defines the realm of possibility, meaning, and purpose—the Why, How, and What.  How can I be the best friend, mom, doctor, wife, speaker, and leader?  It is the accelerator and steering mechanism that keep me in the lane of who I am.  Or, Honesty is the launch pad; Integrity creates the universe of potential.  I swear I got goosebumps.

Phrases that recur often in my speech and writing are “walk the talk” and “lead by example.”  I always ask myself if I exemplify these, and they are the yardsticks by which I measure all those who lead me.  One cannot do either without Honesty and Integrity at work all of the time.  Brené Brown calls integrity “living into our values rather than just professing them.”  Hallelujah.  I feel the most at home, confident, and grounded when I know I’m living deeply in my Honesty and Integrity.  When I’m outside of these, I feel viscerally uneasy.  I cannot tolerate it, or I can only with great suppressive efforts to manage the dissonance.  I lose sleep; I get irritable and restless.

Practicing Honesty and Integrity is not always easy, though.  Facing the ugly and disappointing truths about myself and my dysfunctional patterns, and then holding myself to a higher standard of conduct—internal benchmarks of behavior and relationship—these aspirations create stress and tension on multiple levels of consciousness.

In the end, though, I know that as long as I hold these two values in front, they will light my right path.  I know I will make mistakes.  There will be times when my behavior absolutely does not exemplify these values.  I wanted to write a blog post right after my A-ha! moment reading the book.  But I was afraid someone would recall a time they witnessed the opposite of these values in my actions, and call me out on it.  But I’m not afraid anymore.  I’m not perfect.  And I’m striving every day.  That’s good enough, because it is my best.  Honest—I swear on my Integrity.