Holding the Space for Connection Through the Hard Conversations, Part II

Posted on August 6, 2016 by Catherine Cheng, MD

Today I watched this video of Trump supporters at his rallies. Their words, actions, and expressions represent the basest human emotions. I posted the video to my Facebook page, commenting:

(Donald Trump incites rage and hate) in his followers. He stokes the worst in people. He provokes the emotional states that preclude rational thought and reasonable behavior–he is the king of emotional hijacking. Nobody ever makes a good decision while emotionally hijacked; that is when relationships and connection are destroyed, often violently and permanently.

And here’s another irony: We non-supporters are similarly hijacked by his belligerence. He and his supporters incite us to rail against them all, collectively and wholly as individuals, as racists, bigots, idiots, haters, etc. Name-calling is the easiest and most convenient way to separate ourselves from what we disdain, what we fear, and what’s too uncomfortable to tolerate. But how does this help anything?

On my last blog post I wrote:

I intend to avoid:

-Speaking and writing in sweeping generalizations

-Following snap judgments about groups, or individuals based on their group membership

-Labeling and shaming people or groups as ‘racist,’ ’ignorant,’ ‘stupid,’ ‘lazy,’ etc.

Today I wrote about Trump’s supporters:

I’m trying not to label and pigeon-hole these people, trying not to judge them and discard them, just by what I see here. That only advances the exact mentality I seek to reverse: more separation, more hatred, more “you are less than me, you don’t matter.”

I guess I have to keep reminding myself.

I can hardly imagine what it would be like to sit down, one-on-one, with someone who sincerely supports a Donald Trump presidency, and have a conversation about it. But I can easily imagine talking to a Trump supporter about the trials and joys of parenting, the breakneck evolution of technology, and a mutual love of Marvel movies. Who knows, maybe I already do.

I think most of my friends know my political persuasion. Most of them also share it. But probably more than I realize don’t share it, and we avoid talking about it. Why? Because it’s uncomfortable. We don’t trust ourselves to avoid the emotional hijacking. We’re afraid we’ll say something we’ll regret and damage the relationship. Or (and), we see the only objective of such conversations as trying to change the other person’s mind, or having our mind changed, which feels at the same time futile and scary. So our avoidance of the hard, uncomfortable conversations is an attempt to maintain connection (with ourselves as well as one another). We intrinsically understand that our relationships are important. So we limit our conversations to topics on which we agree.

At this time in our human evolution, however, we are called to do more. It’s too easy to live in the echo chambers of like-minded friends and media sites. It’s too easy to filter our perceptions through repetition and reinforcement, to think that our point of view is the only one, or worse, the only right one. It’s too easy to label others as wholly racist, sexist, bigoted, idiotic, communist, misogynist, mindless, right-wing, extremist, or evil, based on impulsive interactions in comment sections on a blog or Facebook post. It is simply too easy to fall victim to premature judgment and conviction based on skewed and incomplete evidence. We are called to so much more. We are called to the hard conversations, the interactions that require effort and persistence. Why? Because the rewards of this work are understanding, compassion, empathy, connection, and love.

My friend wrote to me, “We have to do this work for your beautiful children.” Yes, my dear friend, for all of our beautiful, innocent children. Let us model for them what it means to Hold the Space for Connection, even, and especially, when it’s hard. This is the work we are called to do.

Holding the Space for Connection Through the Hard Conversations, Part I

Posted on August 6, 2016 by Catherine Cheng, MD

Hello again, friends! I hope this post finds you happy, peaceful, and connected to the most important people in your life. Looking back on the 26 days since my last post, I can honestly say that the last is always true, but not necessarily the first two. Often these weeks, I feel challenged, tested, vexed, and conflicted.

Last weekend I had two prolonged and agonal Facebook conversations with one friend. Tears were shed, consciousness distracted, identity challenged. Suffice it to say, my friend persisted in his noble effort to help me look deeper into myself. He helped (goaded?) me out of my comfort zone, challenging me to really empathize with the suffering of others, specifically of blacks in America—to put myself in their shoes, something I may have never truly done before, or a least don’t do often enough, I’m humbled to say.

I have always thought of myself as an empathetic person. I can almost always relate to my friends’ and patients’ stories of loss, struggle, and suffering. I can imagine, one-on-one, how I would feel in their shoes. But I have also been careful not to say things like “I know how you feel.” Long ago I learned that those words overstep the boundaries of truly shared experience, and I came to view them as presumptuous and negative. As a result, I’m quick to acknowledge that though I can usually imagine, I cannot truly know the unique suffering of another. My dear friend helped me realize last weekend that in my effort to respect and defer to other people’s suffering—again, specifically black people—I inadvertently separate myself from it, and from them. And that, ironically, undermines the very connection I try so hard to cultivate every day. I talk and write all the time about our ‘shared humanity.’ But it was not until the hard conversations last weekend that I realized—or was reminded, I’m not quite sure, maybe I knew before?—what that phrase truly means. Because of him I’m now far less likely to see current events as happening to Muslims, Blacks, or Asians, but rather as happening to fellow humans. I have always understood this intellectually, but now I feel it, emotionally, viscerally. And maybe that is where true understanding originates. I am so grateful for this insight.

My last post was about listening… Rereading it and looking back now, I see that in my Facebook conversations last weekend, I sought initially to be heard more than to hear. And that’s okay. Sometimes we need to stand up for ourselves and in our own truth, at the same time that we Hold Space for others. Fortunately, both my friend and I stuck with the hard conversations, striving to be heard, eventually also listening (reading), and in the end we both felt understood and accepted. It was painful and frustrating, and totally worth the investment. Our newly deepened relationship will synergize our respective efforts to make the world better—we have pushed each other higher, we are stronger, because we are connected.

* * * * *

Playing My Part

Posted on May 22, 2016 by Catherine Cheng, MD

Hello again, friends! Feels good to be back… 3 weeks since my last post of the Blogging A to Z Challenge, holy cow! At the end I thought, ‘Hey, I can do this! One post a week, no sweat!’ …And then crickets… How Fascinating!

Though I have not posted in three weeks, I have written like mad, mostly journaling. Today I suddenly realized how much I have missed corresponding with my friends on paper. How long it’s been since I wrote by hand to someone other than myself! As I sat this afternoon and wrote, on stationery, with colored gel pens and stickers, to some of my best friends, a tremendous sense of connection and gratitude filled me. Much of this post was born of those spontaneous letters to my fellow conscious, cosmic journeyers.

Given the awesome support network with which I am blessed, I feel an impulse to do something more with my writing—to amplify and project all this love and connection back out onto the world for some positive purpose. But how can my words possibly make a difference?

The A to Z Challenge showed me that I have the capacity to write often and much—and to produce better-than-crap results! It also taught me that I can take more risks with my writing, in both format and content. Now I want to take my writing a little more seriously, lend more credence to my own abilities. In the framework of Simon Sinek’s Golden Circle, I know my Why: to cultivate positive and constructive relationships in every realm of life. This blog is another What to my Why. But since the Challenge ended, I struggle with the How.

I think night and day about so many things:

My own individual relationships—spousal, parental, sibling, other familial; colleague, patient, student, friend, stranger.
Relationships I observe between others, and their impact on those of us around them.
Healthcare and medicine in general, and specifically at my own institution—miracles, bureaucracies, opportunities and pitfalls.
Leadership and organizational culture—examples of effective and ineffective models, and what makes them so.
Social justice and discourse—with an urge for movement toward acceptance, inclusion, mutual understanding, and cooperation.
Education, parenting and role modeling—integrity, walking my talk, inside and out.
Physician self-care and care of one another—individual and system issues, and their interface.

What am I called to affect? I live a conscious life in all these realms, or at least I try. I have opinions and positions on various issues, some which I hold with deep conviction. And I struggle with whether and how to express them—for what purpose?

Finally, I have an idea. Though I have opinions and positions that I hold strongly, I plan NOT to use this blog to promote those views. There are plenty of people doing that already, a multitude of voices trying to win one another over, or, more precisely, trying to drive one another into silence with ever louder, brasher, and more vociferous language. My voice can be one of moderation—of collaboration, connection—maybe a bridge for a few who seek one… Or maybe just one stilt among many others, helping to hold up one such bridge. I will strive not to criticize or proselytize, not to berate, blame, shame, incite, or inflame; and also not to concede or abstain. I can, at the same time, hold my positions with conviction and passion, and also listen for the convictions and passions of others. I can practice curiosity and openness. I can question, explore, Hold the Space, and stand strong and tall, without feeling threatened. I seek others who strive to do the same.

Voices of moderation are muted these days. The great orchestra of discourse has lost balance and harmony. The most strident strings, horns, and drums play for their own promotion, rather than as a contribution to a symphonic collective. The resulting dissonance makes us want to cover our ears and run away. In order for a symphony to engage and inspire, each player must not only know her own part and play it well, but also listen carefully for other players and their movement. Maybe we can all do this a little better: maintain our own distinct voices, while integrating with those around us. The best orchestra functions as one entity, breathing and moving in a quintessentially integrated fashion.

My instrument is language. The past seven weeks have shown me my part in the online verbal orchestra. This blog is where I will practice, record, and offer my contribution, not to overpower any others’ words, but to meet, align, and resonate. The harmony of consonant contrast plays on, somewhere. Maybe I can help find and amplify it, so more of us may enjoy the music of life among one another.