Anger is an energy

Alone in the wilderness... or, well,
 in this case, on a beach. 

A few years ago, while talking about growing up, a life-long friend told me my anger scared her when we were teenagers. This caught me off guard; I had no idea. We met in elementary school; I was a lieutenant on the safety patrol and she was on my squad. From there, our lives became deeply intertwined; we know and understand our origin stories. And yet, her words made me think.  

As a teenager, I was small, smart, and cute, which didn't benefit me at that point in time and caused ire among my peers. So I was feisty; I had a mouth only sailors could love, and I was often in trouble with teachers for directing it at them.  

We learn to be angry... 

I learned how to be angry from my mom. That was her acceptable emotion, along with frustration. She yelled a lot, swore a lot, slammed doors, and threw things. Throughout our life together, I watched her vacillate between anger, frustration, and depression. Consequently, my teenage self yelled and swore a lot, and sometimes slammed doors and threw things (typically, just my hairbrush on bad hair days, though). Full transparency: I had a few good reasons to be angry. I just needed better ways to express it.  

I started my journey toward healthy expression in my early 20s, but it's an ongoing practice and I don't always get it right. As a newlywed, I yelled during an argument—and my husband's response taught me to quell my anger, even deny it. Instead, I withdrew rather than rocking the boat, which had its own unintended consequences.  

Now I'm rarely angry and I know anger is just one of many options. But it's also a useful one if we pay attention. It's a tool, a motivator. Or as John Lydon (nee Johnny Rotten) sang on Rise, it's an energy. It's information. 

Anger is often our quickest response in a heated interaction and can easily mask other emotions, like fear or hurt. Stopping in the moment, when we first feel angry, is a big step. What's it telling you? Stop, notice, and name it. Then choose how you want to respond to any given situation.  

I don't avoid conflict, but I stopped provoking controversy when I 'grew up.' That doesn't mean I don't express anger when I feel it, but I discovered my limitations around arguments. I sometimes struggle to follow a train of thought when emotions are high, and verbal communication can be challenging for me. That's why it's important to know I can stop. I also noticed in heated conversations with certain people that I can become overwhelmed and get flustered and acquiesce when they insist they're right. This also isn't OK, and I've learned to navigate those relationships more carefully.     

Communication, awareness, and boundaries 

Now, with a lot of deep work behind me and a high level of self-awareness, I have very clear boundaries, which makes setting limits easier. Anger isn't my immediate response.  

But here's something else: We typically have different boundaries for different relationships, and we're allowed to change and adjust them. We're also not required to tell people when we set new boundaries, especially if it puts us at risk in some way. Push-back is real. Sometimes, they don't know what's different, only that something is, and that's enough to cause a reaction.   

The trick, then, is to hold those new boundaries and not get sucked into old behaviors, and not get angry. I recently got tricked. Hence this post. 

Remember Charlie Brown and Lucy? 

I found myself in a situation where I expected a different result. I have a friend I regularly feel challenged by. I'm Charlie Brown, falling on my ass trying to kick a football that Lucy pulls away at the last minute. (Fool me once, shame on you; fool me twice... what?!?) I decided I couldn't do that anymore, so I created some new boundaries for myself in that relationship. I didn't share that; I just showed up differently. And then... here I was... I did the same thing, again, and I said a thing or two in a conversation I didn't want to have... and got lambasted for all the ways I was wrong. Charlie Brown... I should know better. 

I was livid. But... this time, I didn't react. I didn't swear. I didn't cry. I noticed it. I stepped back to look at what just happened.  

Behind the reaction...  

The Landmark Education Forum asks you whether you want to be right or whether you want workability. I aim for workability, which is why I don't think all disconnects need to be discussed. I could very easily find myself saying hurtful things that don't help. 

So what happened... I felt like a caged cat, trapped, attacked even... which made me even less interested in further engaging. It wasn't pretty, so we hung up with neither of us in a good place. What I know for sure is that this cannot happen again. I refuse to again be Charlie Brown.   

Trust your insides... 

I have finely honed gut instincts, and I must listen to them. I can't second guess myself, nor must I explain my actions and choices, nor defend them in most circumstances.

I mentioned anger is information, and this particular experience enlightened me to a couple of things. 

• How I relate to my partner: I have a new appreciation for my partner's process when he's working through something. Now, when I ask him what's up when my spidey senses are buzzing and he says 'nothing' or 'it doesn't have anything to do with you', I have to trust him. I must also trust that if he does have something we need to talk about, he'll let me know.  
• What's important to me: I have more clarity about my values and boundaries, how I want to show up, and what I expect in relationships, friendships or otherwise. 

As with anything else, there are always gifts... that proverbial silver lining. This exchange prompted me to write on my bedroom mirror, where I see them sometimes multiple times a day, a few affirming statements:  

• take up space
• amplify my voice
• know my worth (an ongoing theme here)
• trust myself, and 
• take no shit

None of this is about making someone else wrong, or not loving them. What I find I need is to rethink my relationships, my needs, and my interactions—which right now, is taking back some space, and when I say "no," know that I mean no, especially when something is personal and not about them. 

Writing this, I feel less angry and more compassionate, for my friend and myself, even as I recognize I'm done with being Charlie Brown.  

Anger... it's useful. In this case, it caused me to pause and reflect, and then stand firm, know my worth, and resolve to set more limits.   

Let anger be your guide...

And, lastly, there's a lot to be angry about in the world... like oppression and inequity. That's where anger can be truly motivating. It's information and an energy. Use that. But don't let it consume you, and when you feel it, explore it.   

If you like this post, or this blog resonates with you in any way, please feel free to share it, comment below, or send me a message. I'm also available for one-on-one coaching—you can find out more here. 

When to say yes and when to say no

Lake Serene

Yes, I hear you. No, I don't agree. 

Yeah, no... Sometimes you need both yes and no at the same time. (And if you know me personally, you'll hear me say this frequently.)

The words are so simple, and yet, they're not. That's why I developed a few guiding principles about when to use each one.

1. When fear drives, say yes anyway. Years ago, during the throes of my divorce, I realized I'd been saying no a lot, and that I'd become afraid to do anything, After a late-night drive, I landed at the Blaine Harbor Marina, writing in my journal, crying and feeling sorry for myself. Light bulb moment: That wasn't how I wanted to live my life, nor how I saw myself. The pact I made with myself at that moment still stands. When fear calls, I say yes unless there's a good reason--not excuses--to say no. We've all heard about deathbed regreets--what they didn't do, not what they did. Life is short. Grab it! "Sure, I'll jump off a cliff; happy to," I said when friends planned a hang-gliding day in Rio. No regrets.

Caveat: Sometimes we're afraid for a reason, and we have to pay attention to our spidey senses. Listen to your guts. 

2. Commit to an absolute yes. How often do we say yes when we want to say no? We often confuse obligation with our need to be liked, approved of, or accepted. We want to be helpful or do the right thing--but the right thing might not be right for us. Sometimes, a yes is enabling; we deprive people of what they most need for their growth. So later, we regret that yes, when we're zapped of energy and resources. Food for thought: Unless you can answer with an absolute yes, say no.

3. No is a complete sentence. It's OK to say no without adding a why. This takes practice if you're not used to it. Say, "no, thank you." Or, "I decline." Or "thanks for offering, and no thank you." And be firm. We don't need a rationale. Women in particular do this because we learn early to justify ourselves. No, I'm not having kids. No, I'm not available. No, I'm not willing to do that. No, I'm not interested. Just no.

4. Say no to say yes. When we say no to one thing, we say yes to another. 

5. Yes, and... Of course, we all have real-life obligations where yes is a must no matter what--work and children often come with exceptions. Relationships require compromise and sacrifice. What's important is to pay attention and know why you're saying yes. That absolute is always worth considering.


Yeah, no, yeah... 

Forrest and I went for a hike on Sunday. I said yes because I knew I needed it. Was it an 'absolute yes'? No. It was a yes with trepidation. Fear. I was afraid I couldn't do it, might hurt myself, winter conditions, or... frankly, looking bad and being judged (my stuff...). 

And, I heard my self-talk and realized "no" was the wrong answer.

I love hiking in the offseason - there are fewer people and it's life-affirming. The brisk chill, the shades of green, shadows and panoramas, and ... quiet. But with a busy schedule, it's rare that I get more than a 500 ft elevation gain.

The frozen lake in the background

Kudos to those trail builders: the 2000 ft elevation gain was mostly switchbacks and rocks. After 2.5 hours, we hit snow, so we stood next to the frozen lake and ate our cheese sandwiches using the icy bench as a table, as avalanches fell steadily from Mt. Index.

So... what about yes, and what about no? 

Pay attention. Why say yes when we want to say no, and why don't we say no when it's for our greatest good?

We serve the world better when we take care of ourselves; being "nice" and doing "the right thing" isn't really the right thing. We have more to give when we truly mean yes, and when we really mean no. Fear can be our guide but we can't let it drive. It often keeps us playing safe, instead of living full, enriching lives. 

In 2019, make a pact with yourself to be deliberate about yes and no. Practice! You'll be happier, healthier, more energetic, and have more to give when it matters.

Wishing you a very good year!

Empathy: Been there, done that

Empathy seems to be a trend these days. Don't get me wrong; by calling it out as a trend, I'm not dissing the importance of figuratively walking in another's shoes.

As a kid, I celebrated the Pagan May Day by anonymously giving baskets of
flowers to my elderly, and in some cases, incapacitated, neighbors. I give my
grandfather credit for fostering my early ability to feel empathy.

Empathy is one of my most treasured values, and I came by it honestly - I've been there, done that in a whole lot of circumstances, and benefited from some very hard lessons.

Lately, though, I'm hearing about empathy in unlikely places, particularly in a business environment. Marketing especially seems to have co-opted empathy (as they do any value worth its salt, really). I don't think this is bad; I think it's largely been missing despite lip service about caring about and understanding the customer.

I'm also hearing the word authenticity a lot more. Maybe it's because it's also on my radar; being my authentic self has become more important than ever and was a big part of my coach training program.

The thing with empathy is that it can't be faked well. Speaking of lip service, empathy is just that without authenticity. It certainly isn't sympathy. I don't want anyone's sympathy. But I damn sure want to feel empathy when I need it.

Truth... Trust... Actions do 

speak louder than words. 

Body language. Facial expressions. Tone. Inflection. Each says something, and adds meaning to your words.

How do you show up? How do you want to be seen? Understood? Are you willing to understand?

I'm also hearing more about how we're collectively experiencing an empathy deficit. This shows up in many ways, including hate speech, bullying, racial profiling, gender bashing, the list goes on. Immigration, gay marriage, women's rights - these are in the news, everyday, and here we are in 2014. What did Shakespeare say? The play is the same, only the characters change? We've made progress, true. Yet this isn't new; there's just a new(er) term for it. There are and always have been factions of insular, small-minded people, everywhere.

I'm all for fostering ways to bring more empathy into the world. If marketing helps us get there, well, whatever it takes. The more life we experience, the more ups, downs, failures, challenges we face, if we learn from them and don't become bitter, we can be empathetic. We can walk in those other proverbial shoes. We can make a difference for each other - and ultimately ourselves.

Seek first to understand...

 

Do ethics matter? What about our gaps?

On Monday, we had a speaker on campus to talk with us about ethics at work - oh so important in a work environment and in mine, perhaps more so than some. But what fascinated me was how he opened the conversation by asking us about our personal values. A few key points stood out and I thought I'd share - because it became very clear that it's from our values that our personal and work ethics stem.

Shades of blue and gray: Oregon coast south of
Cannon Beach (April 2013)

Gaps and gray areas

Our speaker, Bill Grace, who founded the Center for Ethical Leadership, noted when he asked us about our values that no matter how saintly we consider ourselves (or not), we all have gaps. All of us. And there are many shades of gray. He also acknowledged that most of us want to close those gaps once we know they exist - but it's the knowing part that's sometimes the hardest. Most of us have a pretty strong sense of what's wrong or right, yet those the gaps can be hard to see because, like it or not, we have our biases based on our backgrounds, experiences, knowledge, and our own moral compass.

One way Bill suggested we assess where we are is to look at our calendars and our checkbooks. Does how we spend our time (and I have to add, who we spend it with...), or how we spend our money, line up with what we say we value? That's a useful benchmark. I know I'm not there yet. At least in a few areas there's room for improvement (ahem... shop therapy, anyone?).

Shared experience

He also explained that we - the collective we - share at least a handful of personal values. His experience shows that, whether in a room of 80 or 8000 people, at least one out of eight common values are shared, with love, family and integrity the top three. He did an exercise to demonstrate this, and our group of 150 shared at least one in seven. Of those three, my top value is integrity - in a sense, an umbrella value for me under which things like honesty, doing what you say you're going to do (or clean it up) and acting ethically fall under.

A particularly fascinating reminder was about the Pledge of Allegiance, something I haven't thought about for a very long time, but it's pertinent given the gay marriage legislation being considered in states around the country. Written in 1892, the closing line reads, "and liberty and justice for all." (By the way, for those of you who don't know, "under God" was added to the pledge in the 1950s). But in 1892, there were many gaps in terms of who 'all' included. Women didn't yet have the vote. It wasn't until the 1960s that the Civil Rights Act was passed. And today, civil liberties are still unavailable to certain segments of the population - and dare I say it, some could be considered threatened.

Doing the right thing

Distinctions in leadership were made: Are you a transactional or a transformational leader? Both are acceptable forms of leadership and have value. But transactional leadership is about doing things the right way, whereas transformational leadership is doing the right thing, even if it isn't the popular thing. Bill challenged us to "stay in deep water and work to resolve" the things that are important - and to do the right thing, even if it isn't the easy answer.

Lastly, we talked about ethical dilemmas and how important it is to remember there's a human being at the other end of a decision. As author Stephen Covey suggests, look for the win-win. Don't necessarily choose justice over mercy, or vice versa, just because a policy dictates something. Policies and laws aren't always right, and as mentioned, there are many gray areas. Instead, what if there's a third possible option that's both just and merciful?

So just what is ethics? 

Our ethics are derived from what we value. It's doing the right thing. Your heart or your gut (whichever one you listen to) usually knows what that is. In coaching, one of the first things we look at when checking in with ourselves or working with a client is what we most value. It's in part how we measure progress. How do these things we say are so important actually line up with what we do?