Writing is a slow and arduous endeavor. I recently told a friend the only reason I do it is because writing gives me the time to explore and better understand the many facets of an idea. A white sheet of paper demands a lot of you, and it will prove to either be your tormentor or your invitation. The days you resist exploration are brutal. The days you agree to explore…only marginally less brutal.
I believe each of us has been entrusted with a unique set of gits to share with the world. YOU.logy was the idea that chose me and found its own way to be expressed and practiced in my life. I am not going to lie, some days the more recent nudge to teach it feels like a scary responsibility I would rather avoid. But the opportunity to move this idea around with the depth and curiosity that writing allows is a privilege. This blog is my way of looking at it from a myriad of perspectives. Together we pick it up, look underneath it and turn it around. Some days we just set it down and look from above. Often at night, my mind wonders if I missed a seam that holds a hidden latch that would allow me to peak deeper inside. Maybe there are other aspects nested within…
There is another reason I write. It is because here, I cannot be interrupted, dismissed, or argued against. As these fledgling ideas attempt to organize and find their way into the world, I feel compelled to safeguard them in my own quiet exploration. But am I undermining their success by keeping them in my own treatise? And why do I assume such a hostile environment for idea exploration?
Have you ever considered how many of our daily activities and interactions are driven by unexamined ideas? How many beliefs and social structures have we simply adopted from our past and never questioned? Perhaps a bit thornier to consider…how many of us are resisting the exploration of an idea simply because it stands outside of conventional wisdom? And how many of those ideas hold a promising new future for our world?
While watching the movie “Klimt” with my husband, I tripped into a new awareness. It arrived in an early scene where Klimt and a handful of friends were gathered in a pub and discussing their views of the current aesthetic. The scene carried all the typical hallmarks of debauchery often associated with artists, but what grabbed my attention was how entertained they all were in discussing their differing views.
I admit, I was a bit distracted while watching the movie, so I am not certain if each of the individuals present were artists and had good reason to develop a view on aesthetics. But what was clear is that each had thought about the topic and formed an opinion that felt right for them. Not only had they formed an individualized perspective, but each also seemed genuinely excited to present their ideas. And what stood out as so exemplary, was how eagerly the space was given to hear each other out. To be clear, they held differing and often opposing views, but instead of editing or abdicating their position, they jovially presented it and watched as others picked it up, grappled with its finer points and countered with yet another way to see things. The discourse was lively and appeared to be thoroughly enjoyed precisely because of the differences.
There was something both refreshing and familiar about the scene and it occurred to me, I remember doing this too. My high school and college friends would often gather just to volley ideas around. We would stretch and distill and revisit ideas from a myriad of vantage points and we felt safe and entertained in doing so.
Tell me something, when did we decide our conversations needed to be exchanges of agreement? When did differing views become so scary that we find ourselves agreeing to inauthentic acts of social conformity, rather than risk sharing our actual thoughts? Are you experiencing your conversations this way too? Increasingly I find dissenting views are being politely tucked away into a mental file labeled: “best unspoken.” Or the simplest of conversations reveal a rather innocuous difference and we present micro defenses of our view, so we do not risk social judgment or abandonment.
Allow me an example. I have a friend who recently made the decision to move into a retirement community. The transition was significant for her and her husband and filled with a good bit of emotion. As I watched her journey through the mountains of decisions involved in downsizing, one thing stood out as a defining value. She wanted to be incredibly earth “friendly” in how she parted with her possessions. She was tireless in researching and finding the most responsible ways to rehome, repurpose, donate, and recycle. Many of our visits included her frustrations of having to add one more thing to the landfill because she could not find another option. I admired her commitment and easily took note of how much weight this value held for her.
It should not have been surprising, but only recently, I learned that her desire to compost was proving quite challenging in this new living situation. But during our last visit together, she was excited to share that she had found a new kitchen device that dehydrated and mashed their food scraps in a way that was quiet, tidy, and easy. She even grinned with youthful optimism and said if she had the occasion to find someone with chickens, the compost was suitable for chicken feed. Our conversation included an acknowledgement that her husband did not share the same value in composting and found the new addition to their kitchen a bit costly. But she had found something that felt right for her, and it was fun to see her in such contented alignment with this new solution.
The community they have joined is a relatively new one and because they are all experiencing similar life transitions, the management has been committed to creating opportunities for conversation and solution sharing. In a passing conversation with some neighbors, my friend and her husband had the occasion to share about their new kitchen device. I was not present, but I suspect her husband led with a lighthearted quip about the excessive price tag and my friend shared her delight with its performance.
The neighbor responded, “I don’t know. I live alone and don’t produce enough food scraps. I’m perfectly content just sending them down the disposal.”
The neighbor’s comment led my friend to turn inward. She found herself ruminating and further exploring the merits and potential drawbacks to her new composting gadget, which is why she was telling me about this exchange. But I am sharing it with you for different reasons.
Did you catch how the neighbor’s response reflects two conversational obstacles? One is our subconscious and dogged determination to self-reference. The other is what I believe to be a relatively new social phenomenon; it is this subtle assumption for agreement and conformity?
I know my friend well enough to know she would not have made any overtures in recruiting others into a composting practice. But her neighbor’s response shows how we constantly and mostly unconsciously measure if we agree with our conversational partner or not. And when we feel even the slightest differential, we practice what I call a micro defense against what seems to be a baked in assumption for conformity.
My friend was not asking her neighbor to match her commitment or to run out and get her own new kitchen gadget. She was simply sharing her experience. Practicing YOU.logy would have led this conversation down a far different path that could have included more exploration for each of them.
What could have happened if the neighbor had known about and chosen to engage in Conversational Prospecting? “How did you learn about this device?” “When and how did you start composting?” “It sounds like this move has made composting challenging, and yet you wanted to find a way to maintain it, why is it so important to you? Any one of these questions would have invited my friend to express and better understand her own reasons for choosing this path. It would have allowed these new neighbors to explore a more personal connection with each other. And there may have been an opportunity for a new idea to be introduced to someone who had not previously considered its merits or applicability.
I am sure it was just the timing in which I heard about my friend’s recent exchange and watching this movie; but the juxtaposition of the two caught my attention in a sobering way. There was a time when idea exploration was not only permitted but enjoyed. And I am in no way criticizing my friends’ neighbor or trying to “promote” YOU.logy, but I feel strongly, we do need to find our way back to the place where we have established our own views, comfortably and willingly share them, and find vitality and interest in the differences among us.
The scene in Klimt conveyed such a refreshing and earnest zeal in not agreeing. So much so that I dare say, if someone had just gone along with the previously expressed opinion, they would have found someone jousting with the perceived agreement. I imagine they would have taken a mighty swig and jovially contested, “I do not want you to agree, I want you to ask me why I think it so. Why I landed here and chose to travel this path. And more importantly, I want to hear YOUR ideas!”
I must admit, I would have missed it entirely; but Ken’s eye and appreciation for cinematography helped me recognize another reason this scene was so impactful. It was as if the topic of “Aesthetics” and the camera were both placed in the center of the table. As the camera moved in a circular motion around the table, it was creating both a visual and visceral experience of exploring a topic from all sides…AND it was a beautiful representation of Kaleidoscope Listening.
Kaleidoscopes create a myriad of patterns using all the same elements. Nothing is removed or discarded and yet with a subtle shift, the same parts can be assembled and seen in vastly diverse ways. The magic of the kaleidoscope is the work of mirrors and light reflections. Our conversations, with Kaleidoscope Listening, can become mirrors onto ourselves and reflections of others. Consider what is possible if no one’s view was at risk of being removed, discarded, or lost. Kaleidoscope listening, gives space for each one of our own unique fledgling ideas to safely emerge into the world…and potentially make a meaningful and beautiful contribution!
Why have we lost our interest in finding understanding? Why have we become afraid of seeing things from a different perspective and identifying our own unique view? When did agreement replace engagement?
Please share your thoughts. Have you any recent examples where you found yourself retreating from a conversation or defending a view that fell outside of agreement with your conversational partner?