Staying true to our emotions is important, but there could be times when those emotions betray us.
Our instantaneous reaction can, in some circumstances, prevent any real communication from taking place. Loud, knee-jerk anger is especially toxic to the flow of communication.
The perfect example of that would be the parents of a young child who is too afraid to come clean about a broken vase.
The child fears the certain scolding; the burst of fury that will come at the moment the news reaches the parents’ ears.
Thus, a dynamic of concealing information is unknowingly built into the child. Communication, such as: “I’m so sorry I broke your vase with my ball” becomes secondary to avoiding trouble – “A vase was there? I don’t remember a vase.”
The child decides that a better plan involves complete silence and hiding the evidence.
Playing it safe, skirting overreactions, may become the child’s conditioned response in general.
Bob, my client, has decided he wants to forge a better bond with his 24-year-old daughter, Dana. He admits to having a short fuse and being detached emotionally while she was growing up. But he’s desirous of fixing that; he wants her to freely share and not worry about his reaction.
He’s especially motivated right now because Dana has seemed unhappy for the last few months; she’s not her usual bubbly self. He would like to help – offering some fatherly advice, perhaps.
A few weeks ago he managed to get her to open up. He took her to dinner, but when she started to confide in him, her words alarmed him. He raised his voice, and within seconds she shut down again. He hasn’t been able to get her to open up since.
Dana had expressed her despair about her life. Deep down she doesn’t feel good about herself, and Bob didn’t want to hear that.
It was like an arrow through his heart to sit there and listen to her pain and to her negative self-appraisal.
Any anger he felt was at himself; feeling responsible somehow and feeling inept at making things better.
Bob fears he drove a greater wedge between them.
“I know I screwed up,” Bob said, “but I have to find a way to get her to talk to me. I’m used to tackling my problems head-on and moving forward without looking back ... but it’s not working here.”
In order to turn this around, Bob has to take control of his automatic reactions and truly listen. He has to make it safe for Dana to say whatever is on her mind.
In their joint counseling session, Bob learned – among other things – that he disguises his distress with anger. It’s how he copes with his own intense feelings.
It’s easier to feel anger than pain. Let’s face it: It takes courage to man-up to pain.
Dana, though, can’t help but take her father’s outbursts for face value. In her mind, he becomes angry with her, pure and simple.
When that happens, she feels berated, and she feels hurt because she thinks he dismisses her feelings.
This was exactly her experience when they were at the restaurant. She explained that to him and added: “And you did what you always do, you started lecturing me.”
To her, this means he doesn’t care.
“Mom seems interested in my life,” she said amid tears. “You just want to tell me what to do.”
Bob argued that he does care.
He does. Actually, when he shifted into a lecturing mode, he was demonstrating that he cares. In his own bumbling way he was attempting to change her state of mind so that she’d feel better. It was just the wrong way to go about it, that’s all.
A more effective approach would have been to “join” Dana; a technique used for connecting with someone.
Joining entails getting in sync with the other person – where they’re at.
When we’re joining, we’re not trying to change the other person; we’re conveying acceptance and a desire to understand.
A posture of acceptance isn’t the same as agreeing with someone – viewing their misery as justifiable. In effect, when we’re joining, we’re saying: “Hey, I hear you,” “I’m here,” “Help me understand.”
Patient listening is the requirement for joining. And the only reaction should be warmth. Negativity closes people up; warmth does the opposite.
Bob is starting to realize that his power – in terms of bonding and influencing his daughter – resides in his ability to join rather than overreacting.
