Did We Misread The Signs?

Over the years, I have observed that most people think that they communicate far better than they actually do.  :-)  

Let's admit it, clear communication is not always easy. Between our style differences and myriad of delivery options (i.e. text, email, phone or face to face) things can get muddy pretty quickly. 

On top of that, when we notice how often we make assumptions and/or how often our assumptions are incorrect, it adds another layer of complexity to something that could be pretty straightforward.  

One of my greatest learnings is that if we can continue to come from a place of curiosity, to ask questions before making assumptions (or to confirm or deny our assumptions) our chances of communication mishaps diminishes greatly. Add in some genuine compassion and the quality of our communication can get even better.

An example of this occurred over two decades ago. It has stuck with me for all these years because it made such an impression on me and has always served as a great reminder of how important it is to check our assumptions before we attach ourselves to them and how big of a role compassion can play in good communication. 

I was facilitating a 3 day off-site meeting for a team of managers that I had been working with for a few years. Several times a year, the Senior Manager of the group and I would get together and discuss challenges he was noticing in his organization. I would come up with a proposed agenda for an offsite meeting, with input from 1:1's with his team. Then together, he and I would refine the agenda to make sure it met his needs and objectives. Over the years, we worked together incredibly well and I really enjoyed working with he and his team. 

At this particular off-site, the team was unusually quiet. It dawned on me that the one person on the team who was always super engaged in these off-sites was not engaged at all. While he wasn't an official lead, he was a leader none-the-less. He was usually the first person to chime in with answers, thoughts and questions . . . and the more he participated, the more the other team members participated. Truth be told, he was my favorite person on the team, partly because he was such a nice person and also because I could always count on him to bring energy and enthusiasm to these team meetings. It was evident that he was genuinely interested in improving how their organization functioned.

During the first half of the day, he had been extremely quiet, not engaging at all and quite literally "checked out." I assumed maybe the agenda was not meeting his needs (and I had been doing some mental gymnastics over how I could have been so off-base with what we designed) or maybe he was tired of these off-sites or bored with me being the one to facilitate them. At the start of the lunch break, the Senior Manager expressed his concern to me, sharing that he also was worried about how disengaged everyone seemed to be. I told him I would do a little digging/exploring during the lunch break and see if I could figure out how we could get things back on track. I was able to check in with a few folks to ask how they were finding the session so far and they all said it was "fine" - which isn't always the response you want - LOL - but that was what they said.

I eventually found my favorite team member - who rather than eating with the rest of the team was walking around the parking lot by himself. In my head, I was trying out various conversation starters. "I've noticed you are really checked out today" felt too confrontational even though it was the truth. "What's going on with you?" also felt a little edgy. "Do you not want to be here today?' even said with kindness didn't feel right either. By the time I made it across the parking lot and was standing in front of him, out popped "Are you ok?" and then I was quiet. He said, "Ya, I am fine." but I knew it wasn't the truth. After a moment of silence I said, "Is there anything I can do?" and then added "Are we off the mark for what the team really needs from this session?"

I heard him take a big in-breath and then he exhaled loudly, like he was composing himself for what he was about to say. For a moment, I thought he was going to tell me to mind my own business or that he thought the off-site agenda was terrible so I braced myself for that . . . but then he began speaking and I was shocked by what he said. 

After gesturing his suggestion that we sit down, he told me that when he got home from work the previous night, he discovered his girlfriend had moved out. All of her things were gone, no note of explanation and no clue what had caused her to leave. He said he had tried calling her but she didn't / wouldn't answer. After a long sleepless night, he still couldn't shut his brain off, as he tried to figure out what he had done that made her so unhappy or what he had missed. Had she been trying to tell him something that he hadn't heard or understood? It quickly became apparent that he was doing everything he could to NOT cry in front of me. 

It was then my turn for a big in-breath and what I heard myself say next was a mixture of compassion, understanding and space. (In that moment, I didn't realize it was going to be so powerful and/or that it would become the way I responded most often from then on). 

Starting with telling him how sorry I was that this had happened, he attempted to wave me off, saying something like "it's not that big of a deal." I continued by saying "I cannot imagine what that must have been like for you when you got home last night - the shock and confusion." His guard came down a bit and he admitted it threw him off so much he was having trouble breathing at first. I quietly said "I am so sorry you are going through all of this." and then added "I can't believe you managed to come here today, I think I might have still been under the covers having a big cry if this had happened to me." 

That was it. Nothing fancy, just a compassionate response that matched his level of vulnerability. We sat in silence for a few more moments and then I said, "Will you let me know if there is anything I can do?" 

His response surprised me - it was as if compassion and understanding was what he needed - some "permission " of sorts to feel what he was feeling. 

He said he knew he hadn't been engaged all day and that he was sorry for that. He also added that he saw how quiet the team had been and he wasn't sure why because he knew the agenda was focused on what the team needed most. He promised to do his best to participate more the rest of the day. Assuring him that it was OK if he didn't, I reminded him that taking care of his own needs ought to be his priority while he processed his way through the shock of what had occurred the night before. 

Glancing down at my watch, I knew I needed to get myself back in the conference room and get the session restarted, so I let him know that and reminded him that he was under no pressure, that it was OK to take his time and that I would see him in the room if and when he was ready to return. As I was walking away, he said "You won't tell anyone what I just told you will you?" and I said "Of course not." Then I added "Thank you for trusting me enough to share it with me."

I offer up this example as something to consider - something to ponder. I am not saying my approach is the "right" one or a perfect one. (or that I manage to do this every time I am about to fall into the "assumption hole.") Certainly depending on the circumstances, a different approach may be needed. It is merely being shared as a way to demonstrate what kind of outcome we can get from a curious and compassionate approach. It can also help demonstrate how easy it is to fall into an assumption and how finding the appropriate question to ask is a very important step in the equation.  

The next time you catch yourself on the verge of making an assumption (or realize you just made one, maybe you can stop and ponder this:

- Am I sure this true? or it is an assumption I am making? 

- Do I have enough information to proceed?

- Is there anything that needs to be clarified?

- Am I taking this personally when it isn't about me?

- How can I ask a question without putting this person on the defensive?

- How can I demonstrate compassion? 

And as a final point, I have found that often our best interactions aren't from where we fixed an issue or gave the person the answer. It tends to be from when we listen more than we talk and where we give the other person the room to decide what they want to share and what they want to do next. 

It never ceased to amaze me how showing someone a little compassion can open the door for them to see their right next step. I personally don't believe our role is to "fix" people or give them the answers but rather to hold space for them while they find their own way.

 

 

Focusing On What We CAN Control

I originally wrote part of this back in 2019. Since it still feels relevant, I am adding to it and sharing it again.

It's probably no surprise that I hold the belief that we should treat all living things with kindness and respect. I guess it kind of goes hand in hand with being an animal communicator and an empath. Yet I am still delighted when I receive a sweet little piece of confirmation that my approach is appreciated.

A few years ago, I was sitting at the kitchen table, working on the computer when I heard what sounded like yelling outside the house. My German shepherd, Kino, heard it at the same time as me and began to bark. With his barking drowning out the commotion, I couldn't distinguish what the sounds were exactly so I got up to look out the kitchen window.

Much to my disappointment I saw three kids bothering a crow that was on my front lawn.  They were flapping their arms and lunging towards him aggressively, while yelling "Caw Caw."  I ran out the front door. The kids ran away and the crow flew up over my house. I felt so bad for the crow. I don't ever like to see anyone (human or animal) be teased or frightened and I knew I had to say something . . . and in that moment, I knew it needed to be the crow.

I got to the edge of the walkway where the driveway begins but I couldn't see him anywhere. I had no idea if he was still around but I hoped that he would be able to hear me and began speaking to him. I told him that I was very sorry he had been treated that way and I hoped he knew he was always welcome in my yard.

I questioned for a moment whether I was crazy or not, trying to talk to a crow that may be long gone but then I heard a sound above my head. When I looked at the top of the garage there he was, walking to the edge of the roof line so I could see him. He stared at me with what appeared to be a complete recognition of what I had just said. 

Telling him again that I was sorry about what happened, I reminded him that I appreciated his presence and hoped that he was ok. After a few more seconds of eye contact, he turned around and flew off the roof of the garage. 

Satisfied with the outcome, I went back inside the house and explained to Kino what had occurred. It made me realize how well the situation illustrated the very thing that many people have been grappling with lately - which is around the importance of focusing on what we CAN control.  

I'm not going to lie - I DID have the thought that I'd like to run outside and yell at the kids for being unkind to the crow but I knew doing that would just create more negative energy and likely not change the kids behavior.  

What I DID have control over was speaking to the crow and showing him respect so that is what I decided to do. Coming from my heart in that conversation, the energy I put out was more positive and loving, which is an energy I would prefer to be in and around. 

We all get to choose, in each moment, how we are going to react and respond to things. Are we going to complain about what other people are doing or what we think they should be doing differently? Or are we going to look at what is within OUR control at that moment. I'm certainly not perfect in my responses all the time but I do know that each time I respond from a place of love instead of judgement, I feel a whole lot better. Each time I am able to focus on where my words might actually make a difference I feel more empowered.

Update: Two years ago, I lost my beloved Kino. The following day two crows showed up in my yard. Day after day, week after week, these two crows came every single day. They were there at sun up and stayed throughout the day so I began feeding them and putting out fresh water for them. 

One day, with a heavy heart I finally pushed myself to buy a watermelon. I absolutely love watermelon but it was something I hadn't been able to eat since Kino had passed because he also loved watermelon so much and the thought of dicing one up without him there under the cutting board was more than I felt my heart could handle.

That day I managed to cut up a watermelon. In honor of my sweet boy, I decided to bring some of it out back to share with the crows. They were thrilled that I shared some with them, so it was something I began doing weekly. I never got tired of seeing their excitement when I walked out with a dish of the juicy red fruit for them. Seeing their excitement over this "treat" helped me tap into joy again (and I was able to resume my addiction to watermelon.)  :-) 

I am sure it is no surprise that my love and respect for crows deepened even more in the months after Kino passed away. They were my anchor and I have no doubt that Kino sent them because he knew if any bird was already in my heart, it was the crows.

Each time I see a crow, no matter where I am, it reminds me to pause and make sure I am focusing on the things that I CAN control . . . my responses and reactions to things, my own life and my own path. They serve as a reminder to me to look at myself and what I can do - rather than looking at what others are doing (or not doing) and put any of my energy or attention there. 

Here are some questions for you to ponder if you'd like to: Where are you putting your attention? Where is your energy going? Are you focusing on things you can control? Or are you focusing on things outside of your control? Often times, observing that and making some shifts and adjustments on where we are putting our energy and attention can make a big positive difference in how we feel, how things unfold in our own lives. Would you be willing to give it a try?