For this post, I’ll refer to that persona as Vern (since it could be a male or female name).

Vern complains. In fact, Vern seems to be happiest when complaining, which is ironic.

Vern seems to be helpless in frustration, seeing the world as beyond his/her ability to affect and change. The bad things seem to have overwhelming power. The situation always seems to be beyond Vern’s control. And Vern can always find something to complain and be unhappy about.

For a while now, I’ve been saying to people…

Sadly, Vern is too ready to say “I can’t”.

I disagree. I can always do something about it. If I can’t change “it”, then I can change me. I can leave, for instance. Or I can learn to accept things as they are. These are frequently the ends of the spectrum, with various forms of changing me and it in the range in the middle.

However, if Very chooses not to take any of the many choices available, then my follow-up is…

I mean, if you choose not to do anything to change your situation, Vern, then do me the courtesy of not battering me with your frustration, whining, griping, or other expressions that make it clear that you believe that something or someone else is in charge of your life and circumstances.

Take charge of your life, willya Vern?

Check out the line of shirts and mugs with these images and variations.

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“I had a really rotten day.” “I’m sorry.”

And then there are times that it’s just not the appropriate thing to say.

Mary and Bill were riding down in the elevator, on their way out to the store. They were chatting as usual, talking about this and that.

The elevator reached the ground floor. When the door opened, there was another couple standing right in front of the door, effectively blocking the way.

As Bill and Mary started to exit the elevator, Mary turned sideways to edge out, and said “I’m sorry.”

Bill’s inclination had been to say “excuse me” until Mary spoke up, and then he was stumped into silence.

What did Mary have to be sorry about? There was no fault, and nothing to be sympathetic to. Rather, the people standing in front of the elevator should have said “I’m sorry” or at least “excuse me” and moved aside.

So why would Mary say “I’m sorry”?

My thought is that Mary has self-image issues. She behaves as though she somehow believes that other people are worth more than she is or more important than she is. I could be wrong, but I’ve seen this kind of behavior enough times to have a clue.

While I believe strongly in treating people with respect, I don’t believe in behaving with automatic subservience or submission.

You’ve gotta earn those, and you’d better have a BIG hammer!

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While the first two books deal with holding conversations and dealing with issues, this third book addresses the challenges that are near and dear to my heart: how you get people to change their behavior. Thanks to my colleague Jason Yip, I started on this book, and haven’t been able to put it down (well, I do stop for things like work ).

I wanted to share some of this with you, because it relates so nicely to what I’ve been thinking and writing about for a while now.

It turns out the all influence geniuses focus on behaviors. They’re inflexible on this point. They don’t develop an influence strategy until they’ve carefully identified the specific behaviors they want to change. They start by asking: In order to improve our existing situation, what must people actually do?

I love this. It’s not about how they feel or about their motivation. First and foremost, it’s about how they behave.

This is true whether I’m dealing with my family, my co-workers, or a client. Whether I want them to change their behavior, or I just want to understand the situation, I start with their behavior.

One of the vital behaviors consists of the use of praise versus the use of punishment. Top performers reward positive performance far more frequently than their counterparts. Bottom performers quickly become discouraged and mutter things such as, “Didn’t I just teach you that two minutes ago?” The best consistently reinforce even moderately good performance,…

This goes as far back, for me, as Ken Blanchard’s original One-Minute Manager series of books. It ties into how we relate to and teach our children. Every little accomplishment, every move in the right direction, and they get tremendous reinforcement. Then, as the authors say, we start to grow up and everyone gets stingy with their praise as if it’s only to be delivered when we do something exceptional.

If you know anything about training dogs (no, I’m not equating co-workers and family to dogs, just learning where I can), you know that you do the same thing – reward them if they make a move in the right direction, and keep encouraging them until they get it.

It’s so easy to say “well done” or “good job” or even just “thanks”. These things provide reward way out of proportion to their cost.

And it’s so easy to do these things as a facilitator, which many folks don’t get. It’s not about being insincere or ingenuous. It’s about rewarding and encouraging the behaviors we want to develop, and finding ways to reduce or eliminate the behaviors we don’t want.

Read this book. If you are a parent, manager, facilitator, professional, consultant, teacher,… okay, if you’re a human being, read this book.

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It was a job.  Not a great job, and not a terrible job.  Just a job.  I did what I do, and tried to improve things a little bit along the way – processes, procedures, the forms we used (had to be designed to work well in a typewriter – remember those?), and just being friendly.  Although back then I was still in my arrogant, the world is here to worship me phase.

I worked in the Claims Department. Of the people I worked with, a number of them had been there for 35 years or more. They’d started right out of high school, and never left. One of the vice presidents – not a particularly popular or likeable one – had worked his way up from the mail room over the course of decades.

So there I was, working in my first full time job after leaving college.

And I realized that many of these people hated what they did every day. They woke up and hated the thought of going to work. They didn’t like the customers they dealt with. They didn’t like the work they did. They felt underappreciated, underpaid, and undervalued.

And they showed up for work every day, and griped about it every day.

The not-very-likeable vice president showed up every day, and did his best to make everyone else miserable.

I struggled then, and struggle now, with the idea that anyone could stay at a job that makes them that unhappy for 35 days, much less 35 years. Thirty-five years. Between the ones who griped, and the vice president who made others unhappy, it was clear that each of them was finding ways to deal with their unhappiness.

So what was the reason? Why did Clara and Norma stay there that long, being that unhappy, and talking about their unhappiness every day? Why do people all over the US (I can’t speak for other countries) do that same thing?

Here’s my hypothesis: they weren’t really as unhappy as they said. In dealing with what they viewed as a hostile and unappreciative world, they found camaraderie and consolation in knowing that there are others who feel the same way. I think that somehow, strange as it is, being unhappy made them happy.

I find myself doing this kind of thing from time to time – griping, because griping allows me to share, collaborate, dilute my discontent, and otherwise get a sense of my place in the universe. And it’s important to me to have that sense. I talk about context a lot, and the griping/discontent/unhappiness helps me to understand what that context is.

We’re strange creatures, we humans.

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Once I understand something or internalize something or in some other way get it, I forget about my own AHA! moment when I first got it.

What’s important for me to remember, therefore, is that everyone learns at their own pace, and their AHA! moments will come when they come, not when I want them to come.

When I was studying Shotokan Karate, I worked on a particular kata (form) for several months. I reached brown belt, and was so proud of myself. I was doing that same kata one day, and started seeing all sorts of flaws in it.  I went to my instructor and told him how confusing this was, because it seemed like the flaws appeared suddenly.  He said “the higher the mountain, the farther you can see.”

I think there’s a corollary: the higher the mountain, the more the details are lost in the mist of distance. I think this sometimes applies to the lessons I’ve learned and internalized (the “unconscious competence” level of learning).

As a parent, I’ve certainly seen the situation many hundreds of times. My wife or I will tell one of the kids the same thing over and over and over and… one day, all of a sudden, it seems that they get it.

Why?

No doubt there’s a combination of a critical mass of receptions, plus some catalyzing event or thought that turns it from more yadda-yadda noise into a message that is important to them.

This means that no matter how important or seemingly obvious the message or lesson, I have to learn to be patient, be determined, be consistent, and wait until the other person is ready.

In my work, I run into this frequently as well.  “Oh, now I get what you’ve been telling me all this time, Doc!”

It’s not that I said anything different, or said it differently.  It’s just reaching that moment, that point in time at which it becomes personally relevant and meaningful for them.

And that requires patience.

Sigh.

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How many times have you gotten into the ping-pong game of “Who remembers it right?”

“I know I remember it right because…”

“But I know I remember it right because…”

Unless you have a time machine, and can go back together and record whatever event you’re talking about, it becomes a pointless discussion.

What is really important?  That is, what am I trying to prove beyond that I remember something right?

Not to forget that there’s the solitaire version of the game.  It goes like this:

“I was on my way to work on Tuesday… no, wait, it was Wednesday… no, Tuesday… maybe it was Monday…”

Why do we care? Why is it important that – in telling my story – I get the day of the week right?

Perhaps because I fear that (a) you will catch me in an incorrect statement and, therefore, (b) that will generally downgrade my credibility, and (c) I will have less value in the world.

Am I really being tested and measured and evaluated all the time?

Well, to a certain extent, yes I am.

Okay – and does it matter?

Ah! Hmm… No, I don’t think it does.

Well, sure, it matters that people I live with and work with and deal with believe that I’m an honest person.

But in most cases, these trivialities only get in the way. When I tell you my heart attack story, do you care whether I had my heart attack on a Sunday or a Monday or a Tuesday? Nope. And yet I’m likely to get caught up in getting it right, because I believe that in our culture getting it right is highly valued.

I believe that worrying about getting the minutiae right frequently gets in the way of communicating the larger, more important stuff.

Granted that if I get most of the details wrong, my listener may deprecate everything else I have to say.

So let’s get back to the original question.

I think that when you get into an argument/disagreement about who remembers what correctly, you should ask yourself “what’s really important here?”

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The reason I put up that story, is that there were some important and lasting lessons for me, from that experience. My hope is that I might spare you the heart attack and get right to the lessons.

Here’s the thing…

As I lay on the gurney in the emergency room, I thought about things.

While I was waiting for Debbie to arrive, I thought about Debbie and our relationship and our communication.

When Debbie showed up, I thought about our life together and our four children.

As they were performing the angiogram, I thought about my employees, colleagues, and students (I was teaching programming at the community college and karate at my instructor’s dojo, at the time).

I came away with three simple lessons. Simple, profoundly simple. And life-changing, at least for me.

The way I remember them is this:

Don’t wait until tomorrow to say “I’m sorry” – apologies are best delivered right away.

Don’t wait until tomorrow to say “I love you” – there’s never a wrong time to express your feelings, other than “later.”

Don’t wait until tomorrow to say “Thank you” – appreciation is best delivered warm.

You may never face death or debilitation. And I hope you don’t.

That doesn’t matter. The lessons are the same.

If you know me, you know that I’m very open about my feelings, quick to express appreciation, and quick to apologize (regardless of “fault” or “blame”).

Because I found a way to live that makes sense for me in every context.

Saying “I’m sorry” doesn’t mean you’re wrong, or that you’ve done something wrong. It does acknowledge that there’s something wrong. That something might be that someone is unhappy, or that things didn’t work out the way you or someone else wanted, or any of a number of things. The thing is, saying “I’m sorry” doesn’t cost anything.

Saying “I love you” or “I like you” or “I’m glad you’re a part of my life” also doesn’t cost anything. Too many people say “he knows how I feel” or “I shouldn’t have to say anything – she can tell from the way I act” or… Well, let’s get real. We don’t know. We like to hear it. I feel good when someone tells me how they feel about me, even if it’s negative, because I can stop wondering and enjoy the situation as it is.

And gratitude… there is no gift so precious, at so little cost, as expressing gratitude or appreciation. It doesn’t take a long-winded speech. It just takes two words – “thank you.”

So let me close in the best way I know how…

I’m sorry if you don’t find this useful (even though I hope you do).

I’m glad that you’re a part of my life (even if I don’t know you).

Thank you for sharing my thoughts, for your comments, and for enriching the world I live in.

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It got me to thinking about carrying grudges, and the way we label and categorize each other.  Okay – I don’t know for sure that you do it too, I just know that I’ve done it and that your behavior leads me to think you do it too.

You always…

Do you find yourself saying that to someone you know? Do you find yourself behaving in a way that is based on what you expect them to do, rather than what they’re doing?

Perhaps you’ve labeled them. They’re afraid, insecure, rude, lax, mean, silly, absurd, too friendly, not friendly enough, too outgoing, too inhibited, careless, thoughtless, inattentive, self-absorbed,…

How will you know when they change?

If you hold onto the image you hold firmly in mind, you won’t.  Not only that, you will inhibit their ability to change.

If you won’t give me a chance, then who will?

I’ve certainly heard words like that – from my wife, and from my children. Even recently, as I’m on my endless journey towards evolution and perfection.

If I keep an image, an identity, a label in my mind as though that’s who you are, then I may be unable to recognize that you are no longer that person.

Forgiving is not forgetting

I’ve heard too many people say “I can’t forgive that.” I disagree.  You can, you just don’t choose to. You’re holding onto the pain, the anger, the hurt for some reason that seems to make sense. Why? What’s the value in hanging onto it.

Sure – I can learn from sticking my hand in a fire, and yet realize that the fire doesn’t care about me at all. Which is not to say that someone who does something that leads to you feeling hurt doesn’t care about you.  But if you believe, as I do, that their behavior is about them, then it’s possible to forgive, to let go, without letting go of the lesson. You can learn how someone has behaved and base a certain – hmm – caution on that.

But it’s not necessarily who they are.

Let go, let…

In the twelve step programs for families and friends (Al-Anon, Co-Anon, Nar-Anon), they teach “Let go, let God”.

Since I don’t know whether there is or is not a sublime, omnipotent, omnipresent, omniscient entity, here’s what it means to me:

It’s done. It’s not within the scope of my control. Perhaps I’ll be happier, or at least have more peace, if I just let it go and worry about me.

I’m responsible for me, for my behavior. Beyond that, I do the best I can for my family. Outside of that?

You’re up to you.

Let it go.

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To phrase it differently, everything I do is about me, preferably about making me feel good (about myself, of course).  If you want the context of this, please go back and read It’s All About Me.

What led to this particular post, today, was a conversation I had with an old friend of mine. She’s working as the assistant manager at a toy store, and had a question/challenge regarding one of the staff.  Here’s the dialogue:

Friend: hey, mr facilitator - I could use your advice with a co-worker's
        communication

Me    : mmhmm

Friend: ... has been with us for ages. she got pretty pissed when I was
        made asst mgr instead of her, but she and I are working together
        ok. she gets phone calls (anyone can answer the phone) from the
        office, asking her/us to do something. she'll do the thing, but
        never tells anyone abt the msg/event, which causes problems.
        I've asked her to let us know when she gets msgs like that, she
        says she will, but doesn't. any ideas on how to change her
        behavior?
Friend: not sure if it's a passive/agressive thing, or what.

Me    : hmm...
Me    : Make it be to her advantage to change

Friend: hmm, to her advantage.....

Me    : so far, it's "tell me so I'll know"
Me    : how about "tell me so I can make sure you get recognition for
        all you do"?

Friend: aha!

Me    : I'd guess she has no incentive to give you what you want if
        she doesn't see the value for her
Me    : so appeal to her selfishness (you know my position on that)
Me    : and then ask her how she'd like that to work

Friend: you're absolutely right. I hadn't seen that there was no
        "her" in it
Friend: hunh!
Friend: she doesn't realize how hard we're working to keep her job
        - everything she does, and it is much, is almost invisible

And there you have it. Dealing with the reality that each of us is looking for what’s in it for us.

Yes, I said “reality”, because that’s what I believe.

I don’t think badly of the other woman that my friend is dealing with. She’s normal – she’s looking for motivation that makes sense within her world view.

Few of us do things altruistically. Even when we’re doing a good job for the benefit of the organization we work for, it’s about (a) keeping our job, and (b) enjoying the feeling of belonging to and contributing to something bigger than ourselves.

I’ll say it again – I don’t see this as a negative or bad thing. Understanding this helps me to more effectively deal with the people in my world.

If you doubt me, ask yourself the question “Why am I doing this?” and use the Five Whys technique to help you get closer to the core.

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I find myself thinking “I did X. I didn’t do Y. Debbie* will probably be upset that I did/didn’t.”

Do you do that?

When I catch myself, I stop, take a breath, and think “When’s the last time Debbie got upset about that? Hmm. Never, maybe? So why are you getting yourself all worked up about it?”

This ties back to the idea that we all live in our own heads, and interact with the world through behaviors – speech, action, results. I define results as the things I observe that can reasonably and rationally be assumed to be the result of someone’s behavior. Like coming home and finding that the bed is made. I didn’t make it, so someone must have. My wife was the only one home, so it was probably her. “Thanks for making the bed, Sweetie!”

In Crucial Conversations: Tools for Talking When Stakes are High, Patterson et al (yes, I’m going to keep referring to this work – I think it’s seminal) talk about the Stories we tell ourselves, and understanding our Paths. In the example above (I did/didn’t whatever), my Path was the thinking that led me from what I did or didn’t do to assuming something about Debbie’s feelings, with no evidence to support that.  Assumptions – you know about assumptions.  Once I recognize my Path, and I can see my Story: “Debbie will probably be upset.” What happens when I tell myself that story? I feel angry/defensive/upset/hurt. That leads to me stepping out of the shower/kitchen/living room and acting on those feelings towards Debbie.

Poor Debbie is then sitting there wondering what she might have done to lead me to feel that way, or what kind of an ass am I for treating her that way, or…

The thing is, for a moment – just a moment – whatever is in my head seems to be real. What I expect, what I think someone else has/does/will feel, and therefore my emotional, mental, and physical reactions are based on that pseudo-reality that exists only inside of my head.

The challenge, therefore, is to stop and think in STATE terms: what has actually happened. Not what I think will happen or interpret, but what has actually happened. Has Debbie actually gotten upset? Do I have evidence to expect that she will feel upset? If so, I can choose my behavior, informed by what I know of her.

But thus far, it’s all in my head. Reacting based on what is in my head is something I can take control over. Now. Right now.

* Debbie is my amazing wife of 32.5 years. She hasn’t killed me or dumped me yet, so I’m hopeful that is’ going to last.

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Motto

Nope.

As hard as it is, I tell everyone I train in facilitation that they must be prepared to leave their biases, opinions, and tendency toward rescuing people and situations outside.

When you rescue people or a situation, others don’t learn – well, they learn to depend on you to do it for them. It’s like the toddlers who always whine and reach up to be carried, because they’ve always been carried, so they always expect to be carried, so they don’t learn to get around well on their own.

As with most of the Patterns & Antipatterns I’ll be talking about, this applies equally to the facilitator and the participants. As a member of the group, if you keep providing solutions, others will start to pull back and let you do it all. While you might feel good as the superhero, you’re disempowering the team, and teaching them that it’s okay not to participate/contribute.

Don’t be a Superhero.

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I had coffee with a friend this morning. We’ll call him Pete. When I originally met him, Pete was married and living with his wife and three children. During the course of our relationship, we talked about business (where we had originally connected, although we discovered we lived down the street from each other), life, relationships, the works. Several years ago he and his wife (whom we’ll call Joan) divorced in a very non-amicable fashion.

At one point, while he was still married, I gave Pete copies of three of my favorite books: The Art Of War by Sun Tzu; The Book of Five Rings by Miyamoto Musashi; and The Unfettered Mind: Writings from a Zen Master to a Master Swordsman by Takuan Soho. I’ll talk about these books and why I think they’re valuable in another post. The importance is that my friend said to me today that the gift of those books changed his life, allowed him to discover a whole new realm, and in some ways contributed to his divorce. Wow!

He finished this by thanking me with tears in his eyes.

That’s not why I feel sad.

The Meeting

I ran into Joan a while back. She was with her new husband, whose name is also “Pete”. Once we figured out how we knew each other, we did all the small talk stuff, and she mentioned that they had five children – her three and his two.  I said I understood what a challenge that was, having four children myself, even if they were all from the same two parents. Just a bit of commiseration and fact.  Little did I know…

Later that same evening, I got an email from Joan. In that email, Joan assaulted and condemned me for having been condescending and judgmental when we spoke. “If we hadn’t been about to go into the event, I would have told you to F*** OFF right there and then. How dare you!” and so on.

Different Universes

I was stunned. She and I had apparently been in different universes. In my universe, I’d had a pleasant meeting with someone I didn’t know well, caught up just a little bit, met her present husband, and went on my way.

In her universe, someone she considers to be a friend of her anti-christ bastard of an ex-husband was rude and judgmental and condescending in totally unacceptable ways.

I read Joan’s email to my wife, who offered to get in her car, go find Joan, and begin torturing her for speaking to me the way she did.

Joan and I exchanged a few emails. I began by being conciliatory and trying to understand how she misunderstood and misjudged me. It did no good – she got meaner and more caustic with each message.  I stopped the exchange after three back-and-forths.

What I feel sad about is that she jumped right to a conclusion about my motivations and feelings that had nothing to do with my reality.

The Question

In Crucial Conversations: Tools for Talking When Stakes are High, Patterson et al suggest asking oneself what I think of as “the question”: “Why would a rational, reasonable, decent human being do that?” Frankly, it took me two readings of the book before the import and power of that question sank in. Think of it as the benefit of the doubt on steroids. Not just “I’ll give them the benefit of the doubt”, but “I wonder what might be going on with that person that, if they are in fact rational and reasonable and decent, would have led them to say/do that. Maybe the story I’m telling myself isn’t what’s going on, and maybe I should think about it more.”

I was teaching a workshop on this subject in Pune, India, and told them about “the question.”

“Here’s an example: you’re sitting there, and I’m walking by, and I slap your cheek. What would you do or say?”

A lovely young Indian woman said “I’d punch you in the face!” The rest of the group, after looking shocked, started laughing.

“Can’t you think of any acceptable reason for me to slap your cheek?”

“No. I’d hit you back.”

So I turned it to the group. “Anyone?”

Silence for about two minutes. I just sat there. Then one fellow timidly raised his hand and said “Maybe there was a wasp on her cheek?”

I felt joy, because he was learning to think. Not react or even respond, but think.

And that was the problem with Joan – she did what she thought of as punching me back. Whereas there was a wasp on her cheek.

Stop and ask “the question” – even if the other person really is an unforgivable ass, it may be enough to let you apply STATE or at least respond thoughtfully.

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Yes, I believe that I can choose to feel angry or happy or patient or hurt. Getting to that point is a process.

Let’s start in what I think of as the worst case: “You made me angry and I’m still angry!”

Whether it’s angry or hurt or happy or sad or serene or whatever doesn’t matter. What matters is the point that (a) I put the responsibility for my feelings on you and (b) I hold onto both the feeling and the blaming/assigning.

The first change point is way out there where I am holding onto all of this: I begin by acknowledging that my feelings are my own, and that they come from within me. “You didn’t make me angry – I felt angry because your words/actions were the trigger for me to feel angry. Maybe I can choose not to feel angry now. Maybe I can see that my feelings are about me, and your words/behavior are about you, and I can let go of the anger.”

[event]..[anger]...................[still angry]...[change]


The first timeI do this, it’s just hard. I’ve been conditioned by my experience, by the people around me, and even by society to assign responsibility for my feelings – and sometimes my behavior – on others. “You made me…”

The second time I do this, just like with any learned behavior, it’s a bit easier. The next time, even easier, and earlier.

[event]..[anger]........[still angry]...[change]

As I progress, I get closer and closer to the moment when I actually feel angry.

[event]..[anger]..[change]

And as I get closer, I begin to change myself. Not just my behavior, but my feelings.

“That behavior used to make me angry, now I know that I was becoming angry, that my feelings are about me, and I don’t need to feel angry.”

Over time, I find that the anger is a short blip, as I change and realize that I don’t have to feel angry at all.

[event]..[ang..change]

My goal for myself is to evolve to the point that the anger never manifests within me. My goal is that I reach the point where I accept that your behavior is about you, my feelings and behavior are about me, and you don’t have any control over my feelings and behavior.

[event]

What happens then? You do something that I used to get angry about, and I just smile (maybe only on the inside, just in case you’re some kind of violent maniac ) because your behavior really only says something about you, not me.

My good friend Scott Bellware (blog) once asked me “Don’t you ever get flustered, Doc?” That was one of the moments when I realized that this stuff was working for me. I said “I don’t know – I guess you’ll just have to keep trying.”

How about you?

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• We are all born selfish.
• For our first few years, selfishness/self-gratification drive us.
• Society teaches us to socialize our selfishness.
• At our cores, we remain selfish.

Does that sound negative or cynical? I don’t think of it that way. I think of it as an “is” – just a fact of nature.

Those of us who are unusually unselfish – focusing on the needs and wants of others – do it because it feels right/good. If you don’t want to call that “selfish”, pick the term that works for you. I’m not saying that the unselfish among us (too few, sadly) get specific, immediate gratification out of each unselfish, generous act. Rather I’m saying that the condition of being unselfish gives them pleasure and satisfaction.

Yes, there are some who do unselfish things out of commitment to something larger, obedience to something larger, or otherwise. Those actually support my belief.

So if you accept my premise that we all start out selfish, and are all fundamentall selfish, then what are the implications for human interaction?

It’s all about me.

Why am I writing this? Because I have something to say, I hope that it will influence others, and I will feel good if it does.

How about my individual interactions? What am I listening to when I talk to you? My thoughts.

What is driving my behavior when I talk to you? My beliefs about what you feel, my feelings about what you said or did, my physical condition, my mental condition…

It’s all about me.

In future posts, I’m going to explore this in terms of specific behaviors and beliefs, and how we can change them.

Did I mention that It’s All About Me?

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Everything I say and do is about me. It doesn’t matter if I talk to you, at you, about you, or through you. It’s still about me.

The other side of that is that what I say and do is not about you, it’s about me.

If I say “that was ridiculous” or “you make me angry” or “you’re just stupid” (not that I would actually say any of those things, of course), what I’m really saying is “I think that was ridiculous, because it doesn’t match with my view of the world.” or “I’m feeling angry about what you just said/did, but I’d rather that you be responsible for my feelings, because I don’t like them.” or “I don’t think that was a very thoughtful/clever/reasonable thing to say, and I know that if I call you stupid you’ll feel bad. Maybe you’ll also think about what you’re going to say before you say it next time.”

Sigh.

The difference between the first and the second is this: in the first, I push everything onto you; in the second, I take ownership. I even take ownership for my own “bad” behavior. I even take ownership for my own feelings.

This is at the heart of what I believe about how I relate to the world I live in and the people in that world.

• I believe that I own and am responsible for my behavior.
• I believe that I own and am responsible for my feelings.
• I believe that I can only know you through your behavior and your words.
• I believe that the only interaction we have is through our behavior and words.
• I believe that I cannot know your feelings, your motivation, or your history (except my experience of your history).
• I believe that while hearing and understanding your motivation/feelings/history enhances my ability to have a good relationship, it is not necessary in order for me to have a healthy and happy relationship with you.

Everything else comes from these beliefs. I state them as beliefs because while they are Real and True for me, I don’t know that they are for you.

In a series of posts, I plan to explore this framework.

I give credit to Larry B, a therapist in Austin whom I saw with my wife at one time, and to the four authors of “Crucial Conversations” and “Crucial Confrontations”. Without them, these thoughts might never have penetrated my barriers to make it into my brain.

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