Excavating the Dark Side of the Shitpile

Who’s ready to get off this roller coaster?

Bazinga, no dice!  We are strapped in like fat toddlers to professionally installed car seats and this hellish ride ain’t stopping anytime soon. 

What am I talking about?  COVID?  Racial injustice?  The economy?  Politics?  Riots and looting?  Wildfires?  Square dancing hurricanes?  Climate change?  Well, all of it, of course.  We are in it, my friends.  Oh. Yeah.

*sigh*

As always, my friend Donna enlightens me and I feel better.  In our recent conversation I recalled her assertion a decade ago that humanity pushes toward ever increasing consciousness and enlightenment.  Right after the 2016 election I may have laughed out loud (or cried) at this idea.  But today I take a different perspective.  How can I say this in the middle of all the tumult and crisis?  Because tumult and crisis are exactly the evidence of impending breakthrough.  Anyone who has done any truly deep, inner work knows that enlightenment cannot come without a whole shit-ton of pain and suffering.  We also know that on the other, light side, when we get there, the effort was always worth it.  My “Sh*tpile” post may be only the second or third I ever wrote on this blog:

Everybody has one.  We inherit large parts of it from our parents, whose parents passed theirs down, etc.  Life experiences add mass and odor as we grow up.  It sits squarely in the middle of the house of our existence.  For the most part, we simply live our lives around it, walking past every day, careful not to knock any pieces off.  The surface gets dry and crusty; we grow accustomed to the smell.  No big deal.

Once in a while, something moves us to start digging, like that sudden urge to clean out the closet.  We quickly learn that sh*tpile insides stay fresh and painful, like unhealed wounds when scabs suddenly get torn off.  Our eyes water, our senses are overwhelmed, and we want to escape, and fast.  Maybe we avoid that room for a while, or we come back driving a tank to flatten the pile, to the destruction of other property.

Then last year I wrote about the poop flinging that happens when somebody else knocks off a piece of our shitpile, in “All Hail Your Dark Side”: 

What triggers you?

I don’t mean your pet peeves (please, stop using “there’s” when speaking about anything in the plural).  I mean what gets under your skin and affects you viscerally, really hijacks you?  I’m talking about the thing that escalates you so fast or intensely it’s like an out of body experience—you know you’re overreacting, you know it’s irrational, and yet all you can do is sit by and watch it unfold, powerless to control or direct it.

I submit that we are at this moment, collectively, neck deep in our triggered societal shitpile. I’m thinking mostly about systemic American racism, but I also include our profoundly political, ideological, and cultural polarization.  We’ got some serious reckoning to do, my peeps.  How the hell did we get here, and how the f*** do we get out?

“What if this is not the darkness of the tomb, but the darkness of the womb?”  Valarie Kaur asks.  What if this is exactly the Work we all need to do to reach that higher plane of human relationship?  What if we are all called to participate—fully, both feet, deep end—with only one another as life preservers?  Brené Brown calls it “Day 2,” the messy middle between realization and resolution, where the Reckoning, Rumbling, and Revolution happen.  It’s the second act in Joseph Cambell’s hero story arc, after the hero has tried every way of avoiding, denying, deflecting, and averting the task, and finally resigns, and rises, to meet it.  The gripping, tense, thrilling part of any story is this messy middle, the part we dread and relish at the same time.

In the Shitpile post I assert that we can use our life manure to cultivate a life garden that brings joy, fulfillment, and peace.  I use the metaphor of wise gardeners and tools that we can recruit to make the Work easier and more meaningful.  The pile is deep, pungent, and squishy in that way that creates a vacuum, sucking you further in every time you move, apparently impossible to escape.  But we can do it.  Look for help from people who already wield the most effective implements—Curiosity, Humility, Respect, Openness, Non-judgment, Kindness, Empathy, Self-Awareness, and Self-Control.

I present below my hardware store of other tools, accumulated to date, that help me relish ‘way more than dread.  They inform, educate, challenge, and stimulate me.  Along with my pit crew, these resources and practices give me the vital energy and strength, and really the joy, to pursue the hard conversations, to engage ‘the opposition,’ and to make a God. Damn. Difference.  I hope at least some of it resonates with you.  What else would you add to the store?

The Books

Talking to Strangers by Malcolm Gladwell

Four Days to Change by Micheal Welp

How to Be and Antiracist by Ibram X. Kendi (still getting through this one—it’s the esoteric lecture)

Me and White Supremacy by Layla F. Saad (will revisit this one—it’s the life workbook)

But I Don’t See You as Asian by Bruce Reyes-Chow

Caste by Isabel Wilkerson

The Websites/Groups/Resources

Braver Angels—depolarizing America, one conversation at a time

Uprooting Inequity –Ayo Magwood—American history scholar teaches history of racism in America online.  I’ve taken two of her classes and recommend them highly.

The Root—“The Blacker the Content the Sweeter the Truth”

The Dispatch—conservative news

All Sides—news from left, center, and right organized around topic/issue

David French, The French Press

Chris Ladd, Political Orphans, and formerly GOPLifer

The Concepts and Practices

Technical vs Adaptive Challenges and Change—Heifetz and Linsky

PEARLS:  Fostering connection in communication—a copyrighted framework from the Academy of Communication in HealthcarePartnership, Empathy, Acknowledgement, Respect, Legitimation, Support

Asking truly Open, Honest Questions—Parker Palmer, Center for Courage and Renewal

Cone in the Box:  Perspective taking—Judy Sorum Brown

Managing Polarities—Barry Johnson

The Power and Potential of Blind Spots

Sunset 10-25-2019

Whoa Nellie, what a week.  How are you?  What’s vexing you most right now?  What’s holding you up?

A 651 KB PDF sits portentously in my work inbox.

It’s the report of the 14 people who completed surveys for my 360 leadership evaluation.  What a fantastic learning opportunity (assuming the feedback is concrete and actionable)!  I had planned to do it last winter, and then I procrastinated.  And then the pandemic hit.  At home and not seeing patients, I debated whether to bother people with such a frivolous ask.  I decided to proceed because as a leader, what better chance and reason to get real time feedback than during a crisis?  And will there be a better time in the coming months?  I am grateful to/for the 14 respondents.

My biggest fear is that I will be blindsided, and then frozen, by unexpected and severely negative feedback.  I’d say I have a moderate case of imposter syndrome.  So this report carries, in my lizard brain, a high risk of confirming every insecurity I harbor about my leadership, personality, and value to my (any!) organization.  *deep breath*

Johari Window

https://www.communicationtheory.org/the-johari-window-model/

 

Thankfully I am more than my threat-vigilant self; I can receive feedback calmly and rationally.  And, I have support.  One of my LOH classmates introduced me to the Johari Window model the other day.  How have I not come across (remembered) this model before now?  Into the first of the four panes, my ‘Arena’, I put aspects of my leadership style that are known to both myself and others—strengths and weaknesses.  A second pane, my ‘Façade,’ comprises things known to me but that I conceal from others.  These can include deep seated fears, insecurities, traumas, and other emotional baggage.  I bet many of us underestimate the influence and consequences of façade traits on our leadership style and results.  My 360 will show what lives in the upper right pane, my ‘Blind Spot(s)’—what is known to others and not known to me—hence the risk for being ‘blindsided.’  Finally, the parts of my leadership that are as yet unknown to both myself and to others are simply labelled ‘Unknown.’  I have renamed this quadrant ‘Potential for Supported Learning and Growth.’

The best possible result from this 360 exercise is a new, clear, and useful awareness of my leadership Blind Spots.  In her book Insight, Tasha Eurich asserts that true, effective self-awareness embraces and processes both the self-known and other-known domains, and their intersection.  I plan to map out my Johari Window for both strengths and weaknesses before opening my report.  Then I can organize them into broad categories as a framework for approaching the results, and see how well they reconcile (or not).

But beyond professional leadership in my little clinical practice, how else can I apply this self-awareness framework?  How can this exercise inform larger, more global  relationships and culture?

Racism

In July, 2016, I wrote this post about racism and listening for peace.  I’m glad to have documented my thoughts and experiences over the years.  Rereading it now, I can see how I have both sustained and evolved my attitudes on addressing racism.  I still respect all points of view, at least partially.  But I am now more willing to take risks and engage in the hard conversations, to show that I have the capacity to address complexity, to hold tension between divergent and opposing perspectives.  I used to fear being misconstrued as a member of an antagonist monolith.  I am less afraid today to confront such assumptions that others may make of me (and I of them), to invite dialog, to withstand the discomfort of digging in and exchanging in earnest.  This includes with those whose ideology I oppose, as well as those with whom I align.

A principal value of inviting divergent dialog, like the 360 evaluation, is to reveal my Blind Spots.  For instance, even as I think of myself as ‘not racist,’ what behaviors have I that actually are racist, or at least ignorant and complicit?  How can I be more anti-racist?  What can the mirror show me that I can act on and improve, to make a positive difference?

For more on the vital importance and dire need for more of this kind of engagement and self-reflection, read David French’s piece from this morning, “American Racism: We’ve Got So Very Far to Go.”

For an excellent example of how Blind Spots manifest publicly, and how this can instruct us, read John Pavlovitz’s excellent essay on how Drew Brees slammed straight into the mirror as blind as any of us.

We can all map out Johari Window panes for our racism and anti-racism, just like leadership strengths and weaknesses.  Then we can shut up and listen to our Black friends and colleagues, learn in earnest about how racism really is built into and manifests in every aspect of our national heritage and culture.  We can speak up and act when we witness racist thought, attitude, behavior, words, decisions, and policies.  Each of us, in small and still significant ways, can lighten the burden our Black peers carry—we can and should share the work of dismantling our oppressive and marginalizing, racist systems.

It all starts with awareness—the closer to 360 the better.

Please Stop With the Fighting

IMG_1596

What a difference a week makes.  How are you feeling?  I can only describe my own experience as ‘off.’  Things feel heavy, fraught, tense, uncertain, and anxious.  All the talking and writing I do about tolerating uncertainty and holding space for tension feels almost comically hypocritical right now, as I grapple with my own practices.  But more than that, I feel accelerated degradation of relationships all around me.  Armed men march and yell at the Michigan capitol building (where a woman governor serves).  More armed men gather in front of state public health director Dr. Amy Acton’s house in Ohio (not the capitol, where a man governor serves), saying there will be no violence, “for now.”

People on the ‘side’ of public health deride decisions to reopen state economies as willfully ignorant, even malicious.  People on the ‘side’ of reopening economies derail stay at home orders as fascist.  Perhaps these are the minority voices of each ‘side’, but they are loud, and they dominate public discourse and social media (I know, I know, moderate my intake, yada yada).  Yet another false dichotomy escalates with increasing vehemence on both sides.  I have mulled it for weeks and not found a good way to write about it.

Late yesterday, I found two pieces that help, written by conservatives I respect.

In the first, “What Republicans’ Kool Aid Moment Means for the Rest of Us”, Chris Ladd outlines our fatal flaw as humans, and then asks some profoundly important questions about how to resist the ultimate pitfalls of that flaw:

“Confronted with displays of cult loyalty we commonly resort to some mistaken conclusions, dismissing these people as crazy or stupid. These assumptions are born of the same logic that leads people to blame the sick for their illness, a desire to manufacture some difference between them and us, something that would leave us immune to their condition. We want to believe that there’s something uniquely broken, inferior, or even subhuman about the people in those pathetically sad images of self-destruction. Those dismissive characterizations of cultists aren’t just false, they are dangerous.

“We are not inherently rational creatures. By nature, our model of reality is not a product of careful individual inquiry, formed through a critical review of all available data, but a social construct heavily influenced by our preferences, hopes, and the collective will of our tribe. Human beings are capable of independent, rational thought premised on a body of constantly moving data, just like we are capable of juggling or riding a bike. Absent special training, critical, data-centered reasoning is so effortful, difficult and unnatural that any political order premised on the rationality of the average man will be consistently unstable.

“Even with careful training over years, a life of critical thought remains a challenging endeavor, costly to maintain and not suited to every circumstance. Riding a bike sounds easy once you’ve learned to do it but try dialing your phone or eating a sandwich while peddling and you’ll see the challenge. Careful, critical reasoning is resource-expensive. None of us engage in it as much as we think we do.

* * * * *

In the second essay, “What If We Loved Them Both?”  David French invites us to exercise that resource-expensive skill of critical, rational, nuanced and complex analysis:

“Once again, our nation is faced with the painful process of sorting through grave sexual assault allegations against a powerful man. Once again, the public assessment of the veracity of those claims is lining up all-too-neatly with the partisan needs of the moment. Those who object to the rush to judgment against the accused will often ask if how we’d respond if, say, Joe Biden or Brett Kavanaugh was someone you loved. What if he was your father or grandfather. Would you feel like they’d been treated fairly?

“The counter is quick. What if Tara Reade or Christine Blasey Ford was someone you loved? Can you imagine how you’d feel as they mustered up the courage to tell a dreadful story and then you watched them endure the inevitable slings and arrows of scorn, hatred, and mockery?

“But there’s a different, better construct. What would the world look like if an imperfect population that possessed imperfect knowledge loved them both?  

“Due process is just, and it’s indispensable to the pursuit of justice. It is the answer to the question at the start of this newsletter—in the most fraught of claims and the most vicious of crimes—What if we loved them both? What if both accused and accuser were of equal worth? When we consider the right to bring a claim, the requirements of evidence, and even the time limits imposed on cases (given the difficulty of both defending against and proving very old allegations), we not only humbly acknowledge our inability to peer into a person’s soul to discern truth, we also acknowledge that even the mightiest man can and should be brought low when the evidence dictates. 

“But protecting due process (like protecting free speech) is hard. Just as permitting bad speech is a necessity for maintaining the larger, just legal structure of free speech—individual injustices can also protect the larger, necessary structure of due process.

“Each person involved in the controversy is of equal worth, a human being created in God’s image. That means the accusers have a right to bring their claim and be heard, respectfully and fully. That means the accused have their own rights to defend themselves, and a presumption of innocence is wise. Our own extreme fallibility and inability to peer into a human soul means that we should diligently seek external evidence that corroborates or rebuts any allegation or defense. 

“It is true that our culture has frequently failed women. It has failed in the obligation to treat them with respect or to fully hear or fairly consider their claims of terrible crimes. It is also true that our culture has also failed men, especially black men. There are simply too many terribly tragic tales of men dying at the hands of a mob in the face of an unsubstantiated claim of sexual misconduct. Even today, there are echoes of that awful injustice in the way in which black men are treated in campus courts. 

“But the answer to historical injustice isn’t another, equal and opposite injustice. That’s the score-settling that leads to endless ideological and partisan conflict. Instead, the answer is to discern the correct standard, and hew to it as closely as we can. Conservatives should not seek ‘revenge’ for Brett Kavanaugh. Progressives should not give in to the temptation of believing a Democrat through highly-subjective judgments of ‘demeanor’ or ‘temperament.’ That’s the God’s-eye view. And human beings are terrible at playing God.” 

* * * * *

The essays above, while encouraging, also ring abstract and esoteric.  How do we take these lofty ideals and apply them today, in our daily lives, so as not to feel so disconnected, so disparate?  Because what good are ideals if we cannot live them out?  We really are all in this together.  What’s helping you remember that, really feel it, right now?

In our lifetime, there may be no more important moment than right now to recognize and truly honor, in our minds, hearts, and bodies, our shared humanity.  I took a stab at an action plan with the list below.  What would you add?

  1. Stop thinking ‘we’ are better than ‘them’; really try hard to see everybody as equally worthy to engage.
  2. Marshal our best skills at patience and generosity when ‘they’ say they’re better than ‘us.’
  3. Focus on shared goals and humanity— how are we all ‘us’?
  4. Lead by example resisting the urge to oversimplify and over generalize; look for and point out complexity and nuance.  See this as a strength rather than a weakness.
  5. Do not fall for baiting and inciting statements meant to trigger defensiveness.
  6. Acknowledge and concede the flaws and faults of ‘our side’; encourage others to do the same.
  7. Disengage, for the moment, when ‘opponents’ as well as ‘allies’ show themselves, or we find ourselves, to be uninterested in following or unable to follow these rules of engagement. Even when our intentions are earnest, this stuff is hard. And it takes grit and perseverance to train. And almost all of us are total novices at it. So we have a LONG way to go. Try again later. And again, and again, and again.