Karen McCown, Six Seconds’ Chairman, handed this article to me several years ago. It’s stuck with me as a powerful set of guidelines for being impeccable with words. The children, Patty and I have discussed the “three gatekeepers” often over the last years; we started when the kids were 4 and 6 years old and have carried it forward. I highly recommend you put this one into practice!
- Josh

Because we can’t see them, we throw words around without much consideration for their effect. But words leave lasting impressions. Dr. Wilder Penfield, the great Canadian neurosurgeon, describes vividly the experiments that demonstrated how easily words we thought were long forgotten can be revived by electric stimulation of the brain. It’s all still there, recorded deep in consciousness – emotional depth charges ready to explode when they are triggered.

That is why the Buddha considered Right Speech to be as important as Right Action. I think he would have liked the Arab proverb that everything we say should pass three gatekeepers: “Is it true? Is it kind? Is it necessary?”

Any little remark that fails these tests – a joke, a wisecrack, thoughtless gossip, an unverified “fact” or tightly-clenched opinion – can wreck a relationship, destroy trust, even cost a job. But the most glaring violation of Right Speech is the everyday quarrel. We just don’t seem to know how to disagree without being disagreeable.

It starts simply enough: someone says something we disagree with, and for some reason we get angry. (Why? I have never seen the connection.) Or, of course, we say something they disagree with and they get angry. Either way, after just a few words, tempers fray and language starts deteriorating.

How many times have I heard even educated people begin an emotionally charged dialogue with the best of intentions: “We won’t quarrel. Let us confine ourselves to the subject at hand.” Within five minutes one is saying, “That’s not what you told me last Saturday in front of the Wide World of Shoes!” And the other replies – see the absurdity of it! – “That wasn’t in front of the Wide World of Shoes. It was the Narrow World of Shoes.”

Anything to quarrel, anything to contradict.

After that, the quarrel has nothing to do with the subject. It is mostly “You must have done this even as a child” and “I’ve heard stories about the way you behaved in high school.” We may know we are being foolish, but by then we are caught; we can’t escape. All of us have been in arguments like this.

I used to ask my teacher, my grandmother, “Granny, if you found yourself in a situation like this, what would you do?” It took years for me to understand her simple answer: “Son, I wouldn’t get into a situation like that.”

This is very practical advice. Even if somebody is being rude to you or unkind, it doesn’t help to be unkind in return. It doesn’t help them and it doesn’t help you. The more unkind you are, the more angry the other person is going to be – and then the more angry you are going to be, until two people have ceased to be human beings and have gone back to a previous stage of evolution.

Out of control
If we could see what happens in the mind at times like these, we would be embarrassed. The mind simply slips out of control, like a speeding car that careens all over the road. Only when we have some say in where our attention goes can we keep our hands on the wheel.

That is what meditation is for. Then, when we see the mind beginning to break loose, we can brake a little, check the words that are about to burst forth, and choose speech that is kind, constructive, and respectful instead.

If we were to ask the Buddha why we lose control at times like these, he would give a precise diagnosis. First, he would say, the mind never was really in our control. The very nature of the mind is to be fickle, distractable, constantly in motion – in a word, to do whatever it likes. For it to behave the way we like, we have to train it through meditation.

But the real problem, he would say, is self-will: the fierce attachment to our little personal self, our opinions, our ego, that insists on having its way whatever the consequences to others. We just can’t bear to be contradicted, so we get angry and lash out with hurtful words. Most of us would be chagrined to see the underlying message: “You aren’t worth my respect. My ideas are superior; you don’t count.”

Bear with others
To break this cycle, we have to learn to be patient under provocation. “Suffer hard words,” the Buddha says, “as the elephant suffers arrows in battle. People are people, most of them ill-natured.”

There you get the Buddha, who really knows human nature. He doesn’t try to idealize. He doesn’t say, “Everybody is beautiful. Everybody is divine.” He says, “Factually speaking, most people lack courtesy.” This is the characteristic touch of the Buddha, standing firmly on the ground and then trying slowly to help us rise until our heads touch the stars.

For an Indian audience, the elephant is a familiar illustration. The elephant is the mightiest creature on earth, so tremendous in strength and endurance that in battle he ignores his wounds and goes forward gallantly even when his body is bristling with arrows. But he is also a very gentle creature. If you offer him a peanut on the palm of your hand, he will take it without even touching you.

The Buddha’s audience would have grasped the message immediately. Shrug off the daily darts and arrows that life sends, he is telling us, but never shoot such arrows at others. Never upset people, never be unkind to them, never hurt their feelings or treat them with lack of respect, how-ever they might behave themselves.

“In other words,” he says, “in personal relationships, be prepared for a certain amount of impoliteness and discourtesy – not because people are bad, but because they have self-will and can’t control it, just like you.”

This is one of the curious fallacies of self-will. We expect others to show courtesy to us, but we also expect them to bear with us if we happen to be a little unkind. We expect to have our way, but why should others have theirs?

It’s good, I think, not to get upset if you find somebody not showing respect to you, for the simple reason that you may well not be showing enough respect yourself.

Here the Buddha asks a simple question: If you get displeased when others are unkind to you, why don’t you get equally displeased when you are not kind to others? In other words, there is no mystery about these things. You don’t like anyone to be unkind to you. Why don’t you remember that the other person is just like you? Like you, he doesn’t like unkind words. Like you, she appreciates courtesy and respect.

Oddly enough, the person who usually gets upset is the man who expects extreme courtesy for himself, the woman who finds it easy to be discourteous to others. The realist is the mystic, who says, “Well, the world is like that. It takes all sorts.”

In The Imitation of Christ – a marvelous book of spiritual inspiration for any religion – we often come across this same counsel: “Bear with people. Don’t answer back.”

Believe me, for those of us who have lived in the world of education and had our intellect sharpened to be sarcastic, it’s very difficult to restrain oneself. At a meeting when you’re being criticized or attacked, it’s considered part of your academic responsibility to answer back with compound interest.

I, too, was in the habit of doing that, until I began to understand that if somebody attacked me, there was no need for me to get exasperated. After all, most people are capable of using their judgment. So I started just repeating my mantram silently – Rama, Rama, Rama – and keeping quiet.

It was not at all easy. To make things worse, it was sometimes misinterpreted. Somebody who used to keep quiet would think I was at a loss for an answer and join the others in jumping on me. It was difficult training, but very soon I began to see that I was getting detached – not from my colleagues, but from my own opinions. When they were criticizing somebody, they weren’t criticizing me. They were criticizing a statue they had sculpted and set up in the corner. Why should I be bothered if they threw darts at a statue they themselves had made?

This doesn’t mean making a doormat of yourself. Just the opposite. It is training. You are getting your mind under control. First you learn to break the connection between stimulus and response. Once you have a measure of detachment, you can reply to criticism without identifying yourself with your opinions or the other person with hers. Then you are free to choose words that are kind, respectful, and to the point.

The more self-willed and insensitive the other person is, the more reason for you to alert your mind to be calm and compassionate – and, if necessary, to face opposition firmly but tenderly.

We aren’t helping self-willed people when we give in to their demands or let them walk all over us. It only feeds self-will to let them have their way. We have to learn to show respect by opposing them – tenderly, nonviolently, but firmly.

This is a lesson all of us need to learn, and it’s not at all easy. Particularly in personal relationships where people are insecure, they will feel resentment but they will not try to oppose tenderly. When self-will gets inflated, you look upon others as part of your own ego – a kind of ego-annex. This is very common today, especially between parents and children. In such cases it is particularly painful – and all the more necessary – to learn to oppose tenderly, with detachment and respect.

The mental attitude
Criticism, of course, can be useful only when it is constructive. Comments can be useful only when they are friendly. Persuasion can be useful only when it is loving. Even from the point of effectiveness, then, unkind comments only add to the problem. Disrespectful criticism makes the situation worse.

Often, of course, it is necessary to make a constructive comment or suggestion. It is the mental attitude – the tone, the respect, the loving concern – with which we put forward ideas op-posed to others that makes the contribution effective.

I would suggest that whenever you feel you have to make a suggestion opposed to someone else’s, take time to get a little detached from the situation by repeating the mantram silently. Then, when your mind is calm, offer your suggestion in a friendly, warmhearted manner with great respect for the other person. This takes practice, but you will find that it works. It is effective.

Here it helps to remember the Buddha’s observation: most of our problems arise from inflated self-will. And one of the surest signs of inflated self-will is in an inability to see the person’s point of view. It is not that we have to accept the other person’s point of view, but under no circumstances should we refuse to acknowledge that the other person has a point of view – one that deserves to be listened to with respect and evaluated with detachment.

Everyone acknowledges this in principle, but in practice it is all too rare. On campuses I have found even the best-educated scholars sometimes unable to concede that others have a cogent point of view.

This is the intellectual climate I was trained in. It took years of retraining my mind through the practice of meditation to learn to listen with respect to utterly opposite points of view and yet retain my own.

When you are able to do this – to be completely loyal to your ideals and yet not reflect on other people’s integrity – often the other person begins to respond. What matters is the friendliness you show, the lack of ill will – and, more than anything else, the complete absence of any sense of superiority. The more spiritual you become, the less superior you feel to others because the less separate you feel from others. The superiority complex is most rampant where separateness is inflamed.

Right Speech
By making Right Speech part of his Eightfold Path, the Buddha is giving us a precious clue. Right Speech is not just a nice way to behave. It is a spiritual discipline, part of a very skillfully designed path for self-realization.

Once we grasp this, every disagreement becomes an opportunity for spiritual growth.

Facing anger, for example – your own or others’ – is one of life’s best opportunities for training. It’s very much like learning to lift weights. You start by lifting chairs, then tables, then a desk, and after a while you’re lifting a VW Bug. You can pick up a thousand pounds, raise it over your head – what do they call it? “clean and jerk” – and then drop it onto the mat with a lot of noise.

It is the same with anger. You start with those absurd little quarrels about the Wide World of Shoes. As you learn to be patient, you get confidence. Next time, when a bigger outburst comes, instead of retaliating, being unkind, making sarcastic remarks, you use the incident for training the muscles of your mind by repeating the mantram.

Just as we admire people who can lift a thousand pounds, we all benefit by being with somebody who can be patient under attack, kind when opposed, and detached enough to see the situation clearly and compassionately. This is not a sign of weakness; it’s a sign of strength.

Daily review
Athletes, I understand, often keep a daily record of their training. In the same spirit, I take a few minutes every evening to get a bird’s-eye view of training my mind and see where I can improve the quality of my daily behavior.

This is not a negative survey. You are not finding fault with yourself. You are asking, “Where can I be a little more patient? Can I be a little more loving toward Amelia tomorrow? Can I be a little more helpful to John?” These are the positive ways in which we can improve the quality of our daily living tomorrow in the light of what we have done today.

Interestingly enough, this makes every day new. Tomorrow is never the same old day. There is always something more to be done: one or two more steps to take on the path upward, some greater care to avoid the mistakes that all of us make in some small way. Instead of repining over mistakes or being resentful over them, I would suggest taking every possible care not to repeat those mistakes tomorrow and make at least a little improvement in your daily behavior.

This is why we have been given the competitive instinct: not to compete with others, but to compete with ourselves. Every evening you can look at yourself in the mirror and say, “You did a pretty good job today, I agree. But watch out! Tomorrow I’m going to outdo you.”

Original goodness
When you refrain from unkindness, you are uncovering your real nature. That is the real meaning of the Buddha’s word nirvana: the removal of every shred of the selfish conditioning and self-will that brings such sorrow to us and others.

When we have removed all anger, what remains is compassion. When we have removed all selfishness, what remains is selflessness. When we have removed all hatred, what remains is love.

This is the glory of the mystical tradition: We don’t have to make ourselves loving; we have only to remove hatred from our hearts. Those who have learned to be kind even when others are unkind move in the world with freedom. Their love flows to all around without any question of “Is he being nice to me? Is she being kind?”

Life holds us hostage with such questions. But when we are free – when we attain the stage where there is no possibility of my dancing to your tune or making you dance to mine – all sorrows come to an end.

“You cannot add to the joy of such a man,” the Upanishads say. “You cannot add to such a woman’s security. Whatever life gives, whatever life takes, they are always full.”

I admit it’s a terrible habit – again sitting in a restaurant listening to the next table… but the guy was so loud I could hardly not!  Three people, “Joe” and 2 friends, Joe says he’s so glad to see them again and launches into a story.  Eventually says, “but I don’t want us to just talk about my stories…” and the proceeds to dominate the conversation for half an hour of virtually nonstop monologue.  Every once in a while the others manage to slip in a word but Joe grabs back the conversation.  It seems like Joe KNOWS he dominates and has at least a vague intention of sharing the stage, but doesn’t.

So:  Is Joe self-aware?

And, if he is, what’s missing?

Sometimes people talk about emotional intelligence as “paying attention to feelings,” which is nice but inadequate.  Maybe even useless.  We do need to ACCURATELY identify and understand feelings, but I contend that to be “intelligent” we also need to use that data effectively.  When we use mathematical intelligence we accurately identify the info and use it to come up with answers that solve problems.  How about when we use EQ?

(And, how about my admission of my terrible habit?)
♥

On of our network members, Shabbir Latif, wrote this reflection about putting emotional intelligence into action:

I live in San Jose and work in Soledad (90 miles) away where I rent a room for four days during week. When I first started working in Soledad, I used to go swimming at a 24 Hrs Fitness center in Salinas, about 25miles away. I have been swimming regularly since when I was a kid and this 25 miles drive was acceptable. During my workout, I swim different strokes, including butterfly. One day as I was swimming butterfly, I was stopped by a lady, she said it was against pool etiquette to swim butterfly. I was aghast, I thought, “What does she mean against pool etiquette. I have been swimming all my life and never heard of any such claim!” The first couple of times I switched to a different stroke. When this happened more than twice, I decided that I had enough.

I used to swim butterfly three-quarters of the way in my set. The lady entered the pool about that time. One day before I started my swim, I asked people around if they mind my swimming butterfly. Everybody I asked responded in negative. One person even said not to worry about that lady, “She complains all the time.” That day when I was stopped by the lady once more, I told her that I had asked everybody and nobody has any problem; so I don’t see any problem and just continued swimming butterfly. The lady shouted “#%@x you” at me, when I left the pool. Obviously this shook me up even more. While I was showering I started thinking, “Hey I am facilitating groups on anger management and conflict resolution, what am I doing? I will be thinking about this problem when ever I come here, and won’t be at peace until it is resolved.” So after my shower, I put my swimsuit on and returned to the pool. The lady had a waist-float and was walking back and forth in the pool. I went straight to her and calmly said, “Excuse me lady, there are enough people fighting in this world; we both come here for our peace of mind so let us resolve this problem. I can see you are bothered by my swimming butterfly.” At first she was still hostile and said she cannot stop from her work out. I got into the pool and started following her while I was talking. After I acknowledge her problem, she agreed and said that I was right, there are two many wars. She explained that she didn’t want to have her hair wet and butterfly created lots of waves. I asked her what day, what time she was coming and that I was coming one day a week and I am willing to accommodate her schedule. Her anger went away and she started advising me that I should swim more often and one day was not enough. In any case, she ended up by stating, I need not worry, there won’t be any problem any more, and that I don’t need to adjust my schedule. We left after knowing ourselves on first name bases.

I didn’t see the lady anymore for several weeks. One day I was late and I met her entering the facility while I was leaving. She greeted me and commented that I was late. I told her that I work in Soledad and sometimes get out late from work. She exclaimed why I was coming all the way here when there a beautiful pool in Soledad. I couldn’t believe her. She said she was a real estate agent and she is sure. Upon checking I discovered that there is pool five minutes from the room I am renting and the Olympic size pool is much more beautiful facility than the little pool at 24 Hrs Fitness.

Just before this incident, I had read, Unlikely Teachers: Finding hidden gifts in daily conflicts by Judi Ringer. I learned my lesson experientially. Judy is an Aikido Grand Master and she says every opponent on the mat has something for us to teach. She continues, “You are practicing Aikido whenever you listen with curiosity to an opposing view or search for mutual understanding, respect, and purpose.
She quotes Einstein,

“From discourse, find harmony.
In the middle of difficulty, lies opportunity.”

Now I not just know about this, I know it. I hope you get a chance to experience this too.
Be in Peace and Grow!

sml:-)
Shabbir M. Latif, M.S. Therapeutic Recreation, CTRS.
Xtra-assist Consulting; shabbir@xtra-assist.com
Six Seconds Certified EQ Associate
Electrical Engineer, Ph.D.

I was reading an article the other day about IQ, an interview between Mark Dery and Steven Pinker (http://tinyurl.com/nxjjmx), and while I was incredibly interested in the topic, I couldn’t help feeling that the whole article was excessively wordy. With a background as a biologist, I am capable of wading through wordy articles and sometimes maybe it’s even necessary. Of course, the world of IQ discussion has a long and lengthy background mired in psychology and many other fields that bring the baggage of language into the discussion and in this particular case, given the topic, I think the use of detailed language may be appropriate.

Working to deconstruct language and make ideas accessible to all is sometimes an art form. All that aside, I also believe that there is a certain amount of prestige or credibility that often goes along with using big words and sounding important and it’s important to balance the two ideas.

In terms of EQ, selling the concept to people unfamiliar with it sometimes requires evidence, data and ‘proof.’ I hope we all continue to keep the field of EQ open and accessible to everyone by remaining careful with our choice of language. I would love to hear the thoughts of others on this!

I keep noticing that the success of my daily interactions depends on my own clarity and inner honesty. If I’m upset or scared, this will come through in my nonverbals, no matter how hard I try to avoid this.

Here are two recent examples. A new roommate moved into my office space. Some of her coworkers started to visit and talk loudly in our tiny shared office as I tried to work. What to do? At home, I rehearsed carefully worded “I” statements. It was my problem; I was the one who found it difficult to work with nearby conversations. Still, I worried that my coworkers would be angry if I made any requests regarding sound.

As I sat with the issue, I realized that the context of this interaction was also key. I had barely given my roommate a chance to settle in and I was ready to ask for more quiet. As I explored my feelings, I realized that my intuitions (that the conversation could be unproductive) were warning me.

No matter how perfectly I communicated with my coworkers, I doubt it would have gone well because of the fear and anger hidden in my own psyche. After examining my feelings, I began to see that it was my inner-pessimist that was afraid and upset (“My quiet workplace-ruined forever!”). Once I admitted these deeper feelings, I recognized that my desire to jump in quickly with “assertive” communication was really an unconscious desire to control the new situation. If I tried to talk with my coworkers without understanding these feelings, they would come through. My colleagues would probably sense my fears and anger.

Emotional awareness is vital in these everyday dilemmas. If I am conscious enough of my feelings, I can admit them (“I’m feeling afraid that my quiet workplace…”). This “I” statement is more likely to work, since I’m “owning” my feelings and not unconsciously “throwing” them at my colleagues. Without emotional awareness, I’d be unable to do this. My coworkers would be right to be offended: I would have acted on my feelings without even knowing if they were justified.

After discovering my deeper reactions, I immediately felt better. I also knew that any conversation would now be much more successful. My willingness to handle the uncertainty of the situation took the pressure off myself (and my co-workers).

Postscript: within a short time, I adjusted to my terrific, new officemate. If my work required extra quiet, I used a pair of earplugs.

Another example:

My husband and I enjoy traveling and spending time with my parents. But when they recently talked about joining us on a cruise together, I felt strangely uncomfortable. Why? As I quizzed myself, I realized I was worried about my father’s fragile health. Was he really able to handle a cruise? What if something happened to him while in my care? I was worried about my Dad but also forced to admit my more selfish concerns. Would our dream vacation become mired in taking care of a sick parent?

I didn’t like seeing my own selfishness, but it was important to acknowledge. I could then make a choice. I wanted a carefree vacation but I also love my parents. I knew I’d be happy to support their choice in joining us on a cruise.

Unlike my earlier example, in this case I concluded that I needed to share my concerns with my mother. Was this really a good trip for Dad? My new clarity meant that our conversation wouldn’t be confused by my own inner contradictions. Before my awareness, my concerns may have merged with my more selfish fears. Now I knew my own inner truth: I was concerned and also ready to support their voyage, if they chose to go.

The only way for me to act with integrity is if I know the deepest dimensions of my reactions. Armed with this knowledge, I have the best chance of not sending a mixed message to others. Mixed messages cause stress for the receiving party. This is why a mixed message (I am trying hard not to be angry with you but am actually very angry with you) often results in conflict.

I first must communicate with myself before I can communicate with another.

I’ve spent a good portion of this Saturday morning thinking about a work relationship that isn’t working. As I replayed the scenarios in my mind my anger remained–“Nan” seemed to “play games” whenever I asked for help.

What to do? EQ teaches us to examine our thoughts (and assumptions), feelings, and actions. As I do this, I’ve begun to unravel some internal and external dynamics. I now know that I need to talk to Nan directly. This may seem overly obvious (!), but my workplace (like most) is a minefield of conflicting and sometimes controlling personalities, unclear or fuzzy hierarchies, toxic gossip, and in my case, complex union rules. Indirect communication is the norm. I’m also the newest person in the organization. No wonder I’ve been very reluctant to have this conversation.

While the specifics may differ, the hidden drama of a workplace is universal. In my case, I now realize that I’ve also delayed my conversation with Nan because I’ve been reluctant to bring in my superior (the norm). I’m afraid that “Joyce’s” style could make matters worse. Can I try to talk to Nan alone?

EI offers techniques and principles but each workplace is a unique system filled with idiosyncratic individuals. This is why workplace dilemmas can feel so intractable. There are no quick fixes, only the slow unraveling of our biases, our assumptions, and our fears. This morning’s musings have led me to a fresh appreciation of the complexity of my situation. Nan isn’t a villain, nor am I. We are two people doing the best we can. With that belief, I am now more ready to have a compassion-filled conversation with Nan.

To be continued……

I feel that emotions are adaptive, and so, that means all emotions. Anger, for example, rises from a sense of injustice, or from a goal being blocked. Anger can be quite adaptive, such as when it fuels people to seek change. The problem is that this message is sometimes heard in a way that allows people to justify their petty tirades, disrepectful behavior or angry outbursts. I try to balance the message by indicating that anger is the most frequently expressed emotion at work and that happiness and other emotions are adaptive because they increase cooperative behaviors, idea generation, etc. But all too often the message does not get across. I would like to find a way to communicate the idea of emotions as adaptive, that anger has its place, but only expressed in a smart way in certain, limited situations.