In 2005 I was Chairman of the first Emotional and Spiritual Intelligence Conference in the Middle East, a three-day program in Dubai in the United Arab Emirates. I wrote this article on the last day of the conference, May 30, 2005.

We live in a time of turmoil and uncertainty and, if we accept the world that we see in newspaper headlines, it is all too easy to forget that the vast majority of people in the world are good, caring human beings just like us.  When we meet as human beings — not as representatives of some clan or creed — there is vast common ground.

Behind the Veil

Preparing to go to the conference center, I am full of unease. I walk through the lobby strewn with rose petals, and feel surrounded by men in white dishtash and women in black abaya. I’ve worked with many Arabs and Muslims, but this is my first time in the Gulf, and I find myself curious at the sight of all this traditional garb — and worried.

I move quickly through the hall and go back stage. At a conscious level, I am telling myself that I am worried about the conference logistics, that I am concerned the audience might not understand our work, that technical glitches might interfere with learning. But none of the technology is my responsibility, and I realize that I’m bothering the technicians as a way of hiding from all these strangers.

I realized I am afraid. Afraid of the unknown. Afraid that I will not be accepted, that I will be judged, that people will not listen – I often have fears like this at the beginning of a program. Here, it is stronger because, underneath, I am also afraid I will be hated or held in contempt as a Jew and an American.

Unexamined, unrecognized, the fear is influencing me on an unconscious level - influencing  me to hide away and to rationalize my behavior. Once I recognize that I am afraid, however, I can see what I am really doing and can make a choice. Especially in face of fear, it is difficult to make proactive choices.

Fortunately, in this work I have learned about a lever I can use to move myself past the fear: my sense of purpose.

I am deeply committed to co-creating an emotionally intelligent world, and I can’t do that hiding in the corner. Remembering my Noble Goal (“To inspire compassionate wisdom”) gives me the courage to act. I begin walking around the lobby speaking with some of these strangers.

They do not turn away.

I say ‘hello’ to three men wearing traditional Arab clothes. They are from Saudi Arabia. One must have noticed my effort to reach out past the fear, because he says, “Thank you for coming up to us, I guess this is part of emotional intelligence”. I hear his warmth and appreciation – he recognizes the effort, the risk, and there is something sparked between us. Maybe they too are a little afraid.

These fears are reinforced at many levels. For example, I happened to read an email from my grandmother today saying, “I wish you could stay home from all those dangerous places”. On a factual basis, the United Arab Emirates is one of the safest countries in the world. Diverse, cosmopolitan, accepting, and with hardly any crime (and, in case you’re wondering, they don’t have extreme or violent penalties for crimes). Yet, on an emotional level, many of us have such uncertainty, such fear of the unknown, about a place so different from home.

The conference kick-off is smooth. Daniel Goleman is live via satellite - and I find myself wishing he could see this room full of white-robed and black-robed delegates. He speaks about how we can influence one another on an emotional level as leaders and humans, and it seems so apropos to my experience today.

On the second day of the conference, the sense of connection gets even stronger. In my workshop on Leading with EQ, I share how we apply our Six Seconds model to business, and also to our personal and family lives. The group clearly sees the value of these tools in leadership and life, and something happens beyond the content. We all interact with each other as people and talk; we share perspectives and feelings. From dialogue comes respect and tolerance, appreciation and acceptance.

On the final day in the closing session, the discussion turns to how emotional intelligence can help bridge the gaps between people – in organizations, relationships, communities, and nations. Many of the speakers and audience members have noticed, have felt, how we are no longer a group of unknown strangers.

Danah Zohar suggests that we commit to test the power of this kind of dialogue by developing an EQ/SQ conference with Palestinians and Israelis attending together.

Following her theme, I challenge the audience and myself to consider the action we can each take to move past our fears. We can only truly access the power of our emotional and spiritual selves if we each begin with ourselves. I offer, “I would like to bring my children here”. I plan to say more, but I feel myself on the verge of tears, so I begin to call on someone else.

There is a table at the front reserved for women, all in traditional abaya and sheila (black gowns and veils). They’ve been nearly silent these three days, but now one calls out, “Why?” “Why?” she repeats assertively, “Why do you want to bring your children here?”
“Because I want them to grow up knowing Arabs as good, caring people,” I say, “People with the same hopes and dreams we all hold. Because I do not want my two Jewish and American children to grow afraid just because they do not know.”

Later I think to myself, “and because I want them to be friends with your children”.

The power of facing and voicing feelings, especially fears, is profound. Just expressing this fear I can feel the connection forming between us. At the next break, three different men come speak to me: “When you come back to the Emirates,” each says, “I want you to come to my house so your children can play with my children”.

Over and over in my travels, I’ve found that, beneath the infinite variety of human complexity, beneath the cultures and nations, beneath the religions and rivalries, beneath the differences, we are profoundly alike. I keep forgetting, and then I have these experiences to remind me. And, more and more, I am seeing that emotions are at the heart of this similarity. A universal language that both bonds us and liberates us - if we will only find the courage to learn it more deeply, and use it more carefully.

Came across this message from an author named Saskia Davis:

SYMPTOMS OF INNER PEACE

A tendency to think and act spontaneously rather than on fears based on past experiences

An unmistakable ability to enjoy each moment

A loss of interest in judging other people

A loss of interest in judging self

A loss of interest in interpreting the actions of others

A loss of interest in conflict

A loss of ability to worry

Frequent, overwhelming episodes of appreciation

Contented feelings of connectedness with others and nature

Frequent attacks of smiling

An increasing tendency to let things happen
rather than to make them happen.

An increased susceptibility to love extended by others
as well as the uncontrollable urge to extend it

WARNING: Be on the lookout for symptoms of inner peace. The hearts of a great many already have been exposed; and it is possible that people, everywhere, could come down with it in epidemic proportions.

This could pose a serious threat to what has, up to now, been a fairly stable condition of conflict in the world.

If you have some or all of the above symptoms, please be advised that your condition of inner peace may be too far advanced to be curable. If you are exposed to anyone exhibiting any of these symptoms, remain exposed only at your own risk.

Source (poster of this piece available there): http://symptomsofinnerpeace.net/Authors_Website/Wall_Poster.html

How do we change out of a destructive pattern?

Emma (my daughter, now 9) frequently makes a big fuss when it’s time to do work that’s not appealing, especially “dumb writing homework” (despite usually liking writing and being an outstanding student).  This has gone on for years, but a couple of weeks ago I noticed myself becoming very reactive.  I was getting more and more irritated with her — and the irritation about homework seemed to be bleeding into our relationship-in-general.

I’d say hello in the morning and she’d grouch at me… say hello in the afternoon and she’d ignore me.  Then the homework fuss would come up, and I found myself thinking in such a judgmental way, labeling her as “drama queen,” “irrational,” and a few I won’t put in print.  As my frustration grew, I found myself thinking things like, “she can bloody well sit in her room ’till the work is done” (and thinking it with a kind of violent savagery ala “that will show her!”).

There are two aspects of this reaction that I’d like to explore with you:

First, when I felt disrespected and excluded, my patience for the “homework drama” plummeted.  My hurt feelings translated to wanting to hurt back.

Second, as I was feeling impatient, I fell into a pattern of force (power and control) and dealing with superficial “facts” — despite my certain knowledge that this DOES NOT WORK.

In Six Seconds’ work on change, we teach that people behave the way they do for emotionally valid reasons, and that unless you change the underlying emotional dynamic, you don’t create change.  This concept is explained well in Alan Deutschman’s book, Change or Die, which I constantly talk about (here’s an interview I did with him about this).  Deutschman says the dominant, but failing, paradigm when trying to drive change is to use facts, force and fear.

As I get more and more frustrated, I begin to rely on power and control.  I start using facts to back up how right I am, and force to reinforce my sense of power, and fear to accentuate my own power over her.  In that FFF paradigm, we try to make people change.  This doesn’t work, because people don’t want to be forced.  When people feel pushed, they resist.  The resistance causes them to protect, and they become less open to risk.  Meanwhile as we push, we become more irritated and less open to understand what they’re feeling and what’s really blocking the change.

Nice mess — and I KNOW this, but knowledge is not enough.  So here I am, getting frustrated with my daughter, and the more frustrated I get, the more I find myself shooting down this track, a track that I intellectually know leads only to more frustration.  But nonetheless, I’m sucked in.  It’s like I’m in a terrible daytime TV show where these messages are beamed into my brain.  And the more irritated I get, the more I’m in this reactive, superficial, destructive mindset.

Once I started to reflect I could see this pattern — this track I was on.  Which was great to recognize, but then what?  Getting off requires a shift in thinking+feelings — a way to step out of the dynamic.

Fortunately, it came a day later at bedtime.

I was just kissing my daughter goodnight and she had a rare evening of not having a book in hand… so welcomed a sleepy snuggle.  She’s so big now, and so fierce in her opinions.  But laying next to her I had this vivid memory of 9 years ago when we were on our first long plane ride and told her about it.

So long as one of us was walking around holding her, Emma was content.  But as soon as we sat down she fussed.  I remember walking up and down the long 747 aisles in the dark, with glimpses of night as we walked past the rows of windows, pacing endlessly at 500 miles per hour with this sleepy warm angel.

I remember quietly singing the same little song over and over and over (“la mar estaba serena, serena estaba la mar…”).  Probably as much for me as her; I can still feel the soothing rhythm of it.

I remember looking out the small galley window, watching the endless stretches of Nordic ice in the moonlight, and wondering at the infinite variety of that unknown alien landscape, so cold and distant.

At the time, I had no sense that this would become a precious memory… but now it’s so vivid… and tinged with the sepia tones of nostalgia.  Amazing what become printed in our hearts.

And from that place of appreciation, the whole “homework drama frustration” simply evaporated.  I remembered the precious (and willful) innocence inside this person.  I “made her good” in my mind and heart and this let me step off the reactive track.  This emotional connection is empathy, and it’s a doorway to a whole new way of seeing — and the antidote to the FFF paradigm.

In the week since that evening, we’ve had no conversation about changing the “homework drama,” but it just hasn’t come up.  It’s like the circuit is (at least for the moment) diffused.  While it’s likely to resurface, I’m now more keenly aware of the trap — and at least one way out.

♥

This week we watched the Star Wars trilogy as a family – first time for Emma and Max. Return of the Jedi was today. A couple of comments that followed up from the discussion of Satyagraha.

Tucking into bed, Max, 7: “Remember when Luke made C3P0 fly, and then C3p0 said, ‘I didn’t know I could do that,’ and then Luke said, ‘I didn’t either,’ Luke was making C3P0 good.  Like you said you can make people good or make them bad, and Luke made him good.”

Me:  “And what about Darth Vader – Luke even made him good, right?  He knew there was good inside Darth and that’s what he focused on.”

Max:  “It’s like there is a big circle of red and one little bit of blue, and Luke made the blue get bigger and bigger until there wasn’t room for all the red.”

Yes, it’s fiction, but what a powerful example of Satyagraha — Luke was faced with this choice (over an over) to hide or to engage, and a clear difference of how to engage: through anger or through love.

Emma had a similar reflection earlier today and asked Patty about the difference between Luke and the Emperor.  After they talked a bit,  Emma’s conclusion: “Luke was trying to make peace with his fight and the Emperor wanted to destroy through fighting.  So it matters what you want.”

A friend of a friend went to Iran recently and took photos of kids and of their drawings about war and peace. Someone else then put together this video – it’s a little long, but I found it kept drawing me in. What must it feel like for children to hear superpowers talking about bombing their country? How do we help children make sense of the past and current conflicts so they create something different for the future?

EQ Reflection: Vigilance and Prevention
April 27, 1999

I know we’ve all heard and thought a lot about Columbine. Rather than going over the same ground about what happened and why, I’d like to consider my own role in this kind of violence, and ask you to do the same.

Like all of us, I am devastated by this atrocity. I am also devastated by the implications and the responses. It is terrible to even write this, but I am not shocked that such a thing could happen — in some ways it seems the natural outcome of the system we each perpetuate. Claire Nuer, a great teacher about commitment and getting “unstuck” called this system the egosystem. Partly I mention Claire because she died recently, and I wonder what she would have said about Columbine. I think she would have said that if we look at our actions, we are not actually committed to ending violence.

I AM shocked by the degree to which America’s response is “install metal detectors, arm principals, create tough discipline policies.” I see that these reactions are more of the same — Einstein wrote, roughly, that we can not solve a problem using the same kind of thinking that got us INTO the problem. And while I too am compelled to urgent action, I hope that we can utilize different kinds of thinking than the “egosystem.”

In the last week, Six Seconds has been working to gather a broad spectrum of educators who will join a call for a re-focus on long-term prevention. I will send that out next week, but for now, it has been sad for me to see the egosystem at work in our colleagues — so many of whom wanted to sign-on only to their projects, their perspectives. And as I write this and point my finger, I realize that even in the way I wrote the original “call for prevention”, I was doing the very same thing. I was writing a press release that talked a lot about Six Seconds and our work… and then blaming people for wanting to only talk about their work….

Marsha told me that when she taught kindergarten, she taught that when we point a finger, we point three at ourselves. As I have thought more about this, I realize that one implication is that when I find myself pointing my finger, I need to learn something about what I am thinking, feeling, and doing. That might be a good moment for me to take a six second pause and carefully reflect.

It takes vigilance. Not metal detector vigilance, but stuck-in-the-same-pattern vigilance. If we can only change ourselves, we’d each better take that responsibility pretty seriously. Vigilance is cental to that seriousness.

Essentially, “vigilance” means careful watching. To add the EQ piece, it would also include monitoring the interplay of thoughts, feelings, and actions. Why do you do what you do? Why are you responding to this question the way that you are? As I become more vigilant, I become more aware of cause and effect within myself; I become more aware of the patterns that drive me — and perhaps automatically become more responsible for them.

I am not sure it is automatic. I have seen students have this moment of realization where they see how a pattern has driven them, and they immediately move toward responsibility. But it is often short term — they have to see it over and over.

In the face of kids killing kids, I lose patience. I do not want to see it over and over before I learn about my responsibility.

The emotional part of vigilance also means that like watching closely, I will “feel closely.” Each time I hear more about Columbine, I close off more feeling — I do not want to go there. But if I am going to vigilant, I can not ignore those feelings. Instead, I will use them to motivate myself toward change — despite finger pointing, and despite the long uphill climb.

I will send the prevention info in a few days.
- Josh