Practices in Presence: The Land of AND

Years ago, I bought the book Presence: An Exploration of Profound Change in People, Organizations, and Society because its title promised to illuminate an approach to change that Tim Flood and I developed, based on the premise that staying completely within metaphors, an exciting and powerful way to bring about transformational change, requires full presence. 

But what is "presence"? According to the authors of Presence, pp. 13-14):

"We first thought of presence as being fully conscious and aware in the present moment. Then we began to appreciate presence as deep listening, of being open beyond one's preconceptions and historical ways of making sense. We came to see the importance of letting go of old identities and the need to control . . . leading to a state of 'letting come,' of consciously participating in a larger field for change." 

In other words, spontaneous presence is absent of all preconceived notions, all self-talk, all assumptions and beliefs. It is trust in a "knowing" that has nothing to do with logical efforts. This knowing is absolute, unmistakable, and has a kind of magical quality: "Wow! Where did that come from?"

As it turned out, reading the book influenced me with more than intellectual understanding, illustrated by something that happened when Tim and I were finalizing materials for the playshop, The Land of AND. To maintain presence, we planned a variety of improv exercises ("Say yes and . . ," "There are no mistakes"), envisioning small spiral notebooks on long ribbons around participants' necks so they could quickly flip to brief instructions for each new activity.

We used every kind of logic to figure out the length of the ribbon, how to attach a pen, etc., but no matter what we did, when testing a prototype, the ribbon pulled the spiral wire loose from the notebook. 

Finally, when we were feeling “brain dead” (a good thing, as it turned out), I started laughing hysterically. When I could speak, I said “If only they had pouches like kangaroos . . .” my internal judge translating the image as something silly.

 

But as I slept that night my self-critic also slept, and I awakened the next morning with the clear image of two-pocket folders that could be converted, with a little snipping, into “pouches.” At Office Depot, as if conjured up by magic, I saw a bin of beautiful, translucent blue, two-pocket folders – on sale for a penny apiece! 

We had our solution, and I have a potent reminder of presence. 

Hitchhiking to the Grand Ole Opry

I don’t think change efforts have to be work. In particular, using metaphors to stimulate change can be a very playful process.

In a coaching session with a manager who was a bit of a perfectionist, he and I talked about problems his team described when his teaching mode slipped into preaching. While exploring together how to loosen that pattern playfully, I asked him to think of situations where he didn’t take the teacher role. 

"I used to hitchhike in the Sixties," he recalled, "and I learned a lot from conversations with people who gave me a ride." 

When he began to imagine himself in meetings as “hitching a ride,” conversing with people who work for him as if they’re traveling companions, it made a world of difference.

*     *     *

Asked to consider who her inner critic resembled, another client I'll call Elsa said, "She looks like me, but sounds like my mother."

When I asked “How is she dressed?” Elsa burst out laughing: “She’s dressed like Minnie Pearl from the Grand Ole Opry.” 

You know Elsa will never again respond to her inner judge in the same way. How could she? She’ll be picturing the words coming from a sassy comedian wearing a big straw hat with a $1.98 price tag hanging from the side!

Coaching for Managers: Helping Employees Loosen their Personality Traps

I've almost finished revising a small handbook for managers that I created for a client company more than a decade ago--a slant on change that's common among psychologists but I haven't seen addressed in other Enneagram books except my own: a detailed version, with business examples, of why it doesn't work to hit someone while saying "Don't hit!"  

The premise here is for managers to approach each employee from the perspective of the employee's key Enneagram fixation with the goal of helping to loosen their fixed point of view and broaden their perspective. For example, if you're coaching someone who's stuck in black and white thinking, it's ineffective in the long run to say, "You're taking the wrong approach here." 

That employee already thinks in terms of right/wrong, and while they may comply with a specific instruction, you won't be helping them loosen the shackles of Enneagram point One, and different versions of their being too judgmental a voice on the team will continue to show up.

More in Out of the Box Coaching with the Enneagram. 

No More of the Same

The belief that one's own view of reality is the only reality is the most dangerous of all delusions. Paul Watzlawick.

One of the coaches I mentored asked for the sources of my distinction between first-order change and second-order change. My earliest influences were Bateson's Steps to an Ecology of Mind and Watzlawick et al's Change; later, Senge's The Fifth Discipline and Hargrove's Masterful Coaching.

While the terminology of these authors and I may differ, we share some common principles:

First-order change is a temporary "fix" to a problem without examining the underlying patterns that caused the problem; the typical result is "more of the same." Senge, for example, identifies archetypes arising from attempts at organizational change that feed the original dynamic.

Second-order change is a radical shift in worldview and consequent actions; it requires systems thinking, the ability to step back and intervene in the dynamics that have reinforced "more of the same."

Political satire, "more of the same"

 

First-order change in coaching similarly refers to learning new skills or capabilities that involve doing something better without examining or challenging underlying beliefs and assumptions. Second-order change occurs when clients step outside their current perspective, examine their frame of reference, and do something different. As a coach, you help them (a) observe the assumptions and behavioral patterns that have kept the same problems cropping up over and over, and (b) fundamentally reframe their worldview. As a consequence, they become less habit-driven, more open, and increasingly self-aware.

For example, Bill Danvers was  VP of Sales, in line to be president of his company. The CEO had annointed him because of spectacular sales results, not realizing Bill had taken all the credit in spite of behind-the-scenes support from VPs of other functions. After agreeing with his peers on negotiation parameters, he would override those agreements to make deals with customers that other functions didn't have the resources to support in the expected time frame. So if customers became dissatisfied, Bill still looked like the golden boy and his peers took all the blame.

His underlying drive was to succeed at any cost. Consequently, the other VPs didn't trust him and wouldn't support his bid to be their boss. Because he wanted their approval, Bill agreed to tell customers his offers were tentative and to confirm with his peers before closing the deal. This first-order change might have temporarily satisfied others in the organization, but if his fundamental drive continued to serve his own achievements at the cost of theirs, nothing fundamental would have changed and he would again have lost their trust.

With a systemic view of his behavioral patterns, Bill Danvers began to acknowledge evidence of his competitiveness and his high need to be recognized for his successes. He became aware of childhood messages that his worth depended on his individual accomplishment. With the goal of second-order change, I helped raise Bill's awareness when feelings of competitiveness and approval-seeking behavior began to grip him. He was gradually able to intervene with new responses and authentically collaborate with his peers.

*     *     *

For a personality-based explanation, see the discussion beginning at the bottom of page 4 in my book with Clarence Thomson, Out of the Box Coaching with the Enneagram. For more about first- and second-order change, see Tompkins and Lawley's  When the Remedy is the Problem.

...

Right-Brain Rorschach

In a Rorschach Inkblot Test, people are asked to provide meaning for inkblot shapes, which demonstrate how we interpret ambiguous circumstances. Dr. Michael Yapko uses the Rorschach as a metaphor for how we project assumptions onto our life experiences: 

“Life is like an inkblot – an ‘experiential Rorschach,’ so to speak. Life doesn’t have an objective or assigned meaning. We give it meaning by our individual values, beliefs, relationships, careers, hobbies, and other life experiences.”

There’s a poetic form called “erasure” poetry, where you take a page from any book, article, newspaper, etc. and cover up all but the words that appeal to you. Those remaining words create a poem. Not only will any two people come up with different poems from the same text; when you come back later to the same page you may also “see” the text in a completely different way. 

The content on the right is from a page in Out of the Box Coaching with the Enneagram. Here’s my erasure: parallels expressing talents be playful, listen to your dog I suspect in my own metaphorical universe the “dog” refers to an instinctual part of me, and while I didn’t know it when I started this post, I’m realizing how uptight I’ve been about an upcoming project, getting into a head space instead of taking a deep breath and listening to my “dog.” Try it for yourself. Notice what words show up for you when you look at the page; then follow this “Rorschach” to see what your unconscious might be telling you. And remember, we all operate from a perspective that may or may not be held by others. It’s always good to open ourselves to the differences.

business failed. Mary asked if she could remember a situation where someone regained face. Linette then recalled a story of a young, unwed mother in her grandmother’s village. “She was urged by her family to leave the village in shame, but she refused to.” Mary inquired,  what happened to her?” The answer “She raised her child well and eventually earned an honorable reputation through her good works in the community.”      A useful story has a structure similar to the client’s sensation, including the underlying problem and an embedded resolution. These elements were present in the above story. The young woman losing face when she became pregnant was analogous to losing face by not being promoted. The woman in the story regained face by choosing to be self-defined. Mary pointed out these parallels. The lessons in Linette’s story helped her set her sights on expressing her own needs and talents. Creating Room to Play      The word “metaphor” is from the Greek pherin, “to carry,” and meta, “beyond or “over.” We are carried beyond our worldview by breakthrough experiences; metaphors illuminate the path. When clients shrink from a new perspective, that’s a clue that intellectual understanding has not freed them to move. This is your chance to be spontaneous, playful, inventive – anything that will reach them at a symbolic level. We’ve just written about the power of stories. You can also create openings through the symbolic use of humor, behavior, gifts, or even poetry.      Use your own imagination and creativity to develop metaphors for each style. Sometimes you can ask clients for a metaphor of how they see themselves and work with it. Don’t worry about getting it just right. The meaning of a metaphor is often individual. Listen to your clients. They’ll give you the metaphors that have meaning for them. An Eight told Clarence, “I’m a junkyard dog.” Clarence stayed within that metaphor: “Who is the dog loyal to? Who cares for him?” Whom does he let pet him? What is he protecting and from whom? In what way is he trapped by what he is protecting?”

 

"Do I Belong?"

I found The Instincts Dialogue at the 2018 Enneagram Global Summit to be the most actionable discussion for coaching, exploring the instinctual aspects of the self-preservation, sexual, and social subtypes--"reptilian, biological, unconscious, automatic impulses to survive" (Bea Chestnut), "drives and also sensation, known to the body and important to know what they feel like" (Russ Hudson). My main takeaway was to pay less attention to subtype descriptions and to ask instead, as Hudson suggested, "What's my habitual relationship with this drive?'" 

I've simplified the subtype distinctions as defined by three key questions:

• Self-Preservation instinct: "Am I safe?"
• Sexual or One-to-One instinct: "Am I loved?"
• Social instinct: "Do I belong?"

In my practice, every coaching call in some way addressed one of these questions. You want your clients to find a YES to all three: "I am safe." "I am loved." "I belong." And deeper understanding of a client's instinctual subtype preference will heighten your effectiveness in helping them answer these questions--not with a series of prescriptions but by encouraging them to ask, "What's my habitual relationship with this drive?"

Bea Chestnut offers an inspiring personal example on her web site, with a deep look at her Enneagram Two self-preservation instinct. And we learn from her story that growth arises from staying present, observing ourselves without judgment, becoming conscious of what has been unconscious and automatic:

... I felt something sweep through my entire body--an emotional and energetic recognition that told me he was right. I couldn't argue with him, even though my pride wanted to. If I was really honest with myself, I did feel like I needed protection. I wanted to say I could protect him, but I felt, so clearly, in my body, it wasn't true. So, I went and sat in the group with the other Self-Preservation Twos.

Of special interest to me has been the "Do I belong?" question because several of my clients explored how Enneagram patterns help or hinder connection to the world community--mostly through political or environmental concerns. As Bea Chestnut said in The Instincts Dialogue, "We've lost touch with the fact that in primitive people, being part of a tribe was essential to survival."

I'd been reading about the physiological and neurological aspects of our instinct to be part of a tribe (activating social connectivity via the ventral vagal nerve system in The Polyvagal Theory in Therapy, and the effects of social connectivity on gene expression in "The Social Life of Genes"). So where does this curiosity lead me? As did Bea Chestnut in her story above, I have typically explored the practical aspects of a concept through self-observation:

• Historically, my one-to-one instinct had been the strongest influence on me at point Nine ["At Best, bonds with others, supportive of their ideas, gets buy-in through consensus; At Worst, lives too much through another (parent, spouse, boss, friend, client)"].
• I'd developed some fairly deep self-awareness and found my own agenda in relationships to a much greater degree than previously. Then my aging mother's need for help gave me an advanced course in staying present. During the 17 years of caring for her, our early life relationship dynamics threatened to define the two of us again. Exploring those triggers helped me further loosen the unconscious hold of my one-to-one instinct. 
• At the same time, my least-preferred instinct, the social, was being further compromised--by increasing responsibilities for Mom (she lived to be 104!), my natural introversion, and--with the burgeoning of the internet--the opportunity to maintain all my interests (phone coaching, reading/writing, painting) almost exclusively within these four walls. 
• So, I've felt the pinch of a lack of social connectivity, wanting to be part of a tribe, wanting to feel in my bones, "Yes, I belong," yet also asking What's my habitual relationship with this drive? Noticing when I've stopped myself, and also noticing circumstances that help me to connect--groups of moderate size, groups where the discussion is centered on something I want to learn, groups where there's no pressure to speak but interaction is facilitated, groups whose members share my most fervent beliefs.
• One step at a time.