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.