Which is fitting, since the message I took away from prayer this morning was "Don't get bogged down!" (In this case, don't get blogged down.) Sometimes that seems like the story of my life -- I start a "minor" assignment, and suddenly the day has gone by; I start researching some religious or scientific issue online, and I'm 5 miles down the rabbit hole when I notice it's time for rehearsal; I start eating breakfast, and suddenly it's lunch -- one bog after another! Of course this is on relatively unstructured days. But those are the days when I seem to have the most potential to get things done. Granted, many of these activities don't start out as bogs -- they're things I find worthwhile, which is why I start doing them. But the warning I got in prayer this morning was to be vigilant, and not let a good garden become a bog (unless you want to harvest peat, cranberries, or dead, well-preserved animals).
At the risk of getting bogged down by my research of bogs, let me just say that this article on bog formation is quite illuminating for anyone who wants to flesh out the bog metaphor in their life. In short, I was excited to learn that bogs, which are characterized by general infertility and stagnation, form when bodies of water like ponds or lakes fill up with sediment, or when land becomes "over-saturated" with peat moss, to the point that the water becomes inhospitable to most life.
"This cannot happen where there is a current to remove the soil, so ponds or lakes that are fed by rivers have little chance of becoming swamps/mires/bogs," says the article. Sounds like my life!
When I stay connected (or get reconnected) to the current of life -- to God, to Beloved Divine Energy, to love, to the peacewaves -- the dead sediments and blockages are washed away by aliveness and flow.
Maintaining that kind of spiritual and human connection is not easy. But it's perhaps my most important reason for keeping this blog -- to record my efforts and insights in making more of life through NVC, IFS, and my own unique collection of spiritual practices and strategies.
The practice I wanted to talk about today is something that for now I'll call "tuning in to the peacewaves". There are so many waves coming at me all the time, from parts of myself, from other people, from the media. And sometimes I approach life like a switchboard operator, thinking I need to receive, process, and respond to every signal that comes in.
Every message, every idea, every event that enters my consciousness seems to require me to do something about it. And unlike a switchboard operator, my job isn't to pass the call onto someone else -- the buck stops here! If there's some problematic behavior, illogical thinking, or destructive impulse rearing its head in one of my loved ones or within myself (and even within a professor or peer), I need to put a stop to it! Otherwise, who will?! Today in meditation I became slightly better acquainted with the combative, sword-wielding part of me who desires valiantly to wage a war of justice, truth, and better life for all, especially when confronted with any form of ignorance or injustice.
Unfortunately, I'm afraid his efforts to improve the world are often misguided.
This high-minded fighter of mine had a workout yesterday afternoon defending the rights of LGBT people everywhere against the tyranny of the religious opinion of one of my kinfolk, a.k.a. KF (I will use this term to refer to those people closest to me, so as not to single out any specific friend or family member). I tried to "use NVC" in the conversation, but the main thing I remember is the righteous anger with which I laid out the logic and evidence, and pummeled his puny and wayward arguments into defeat.
That night, in a text exchange with the same KF, in which I tried to convey some important thoughts on a different controversial subject, my inner knight had his sword at the ready when the first response buzzed in from the KF. Passing over his first message -- a tender expression of emotion and even contrition -- my eyes jumped immediately to the second text, in which he had attempted to veil an egregious attack on my character in the form of a mild and vague philosophical opinion. But mine is no blind knight! Hurtling past the sender's mushy opener, my knight came immediately to my aid and composed a speedy retort in defense of my worldview and lifestyle, after which I sent a sloppy afterthought acknowledging the emotional stuff.
It wasn't until today that it occurred to me that I had failed to tune in to the peacewaves.
This isn't the first time I've had that realization. Just a few weeks ago, talking to a friend about an ongoing conflict I've been having with another KF, she reminded me that understanding is rarely achieved through argumentation. Hammering my opponent over the head with truth won't help him see it. It's during those moments of heart connection when the mind feels safe enough to consider a new idea or perspective that real change occurs. Of course, there are times when a heated, even hostile argument can knock some sense into a person. I'm certainly not above shouting the facts at someone from time to time.
But there is a fine line between making an argument passionately and expressing an opinion full of judgment and condemnation (in words or tone). In my process of learning (and re-learning) NVC, even my so-called "NVC statements" often ring of criticism and judgment, because while I'm trying to speak giraffe (the life-affirming NVC language), other parts of me are still speaking jackal (the life-crushing judgmental language). Often, at first, the most I can do in a heated moment is refrain from saying whatever judgmental thing I was going to say. I have no idea what feelings and needs are alive in myself or the other person, besides the apparent need to set each other straight once and for all (which for some reason never seems to appear on the needs list).
With practice, there are more and more occasions when I am actually able to articulate a feeling or two, and maybe a need. With even more practice, I can now occasionally even identify a request on the spot. But that's on a good day.
Most of the time, it's only after the heated moment, when I'm reflecting on my own, that I can finally go through the rest of the steps of the NVC process. Maybe I have an abnormally slow learning curve, and maybe I'm missing some important strategies, but in any case that's how my NVC journey has been. And in this journey, there are certain conversations, which can last from a number of seconds to a number of years, that just seem to resist all my well-intended NVC efforts to change the other person's way of thinking. Of course, when my goal is to change the other person's way of thinking, I am not actually using NVC, and there are probably a lot of feelings and needs going on that I'm not getting in touch with. But when I get into that certain kind of conversation with someone, it doesn't much matter what I once knew about NVC, because in those moments, I forget what NVC is, I forget who I am, and my fighting knight has taken the wheel. There seem to be certain issues that my inner knight perceives as such dire threats that there is no time to waste in heading the charge against the enemy with whom I am speaking.
There are times, I think, when the knight is right -- at least, times when I want to speak out vehemently for justice and truth, before having established an emotional connection with anyone. But in general, I think my friend is right, that real listening and transformative thought happens after a sort of heart-to-heart harmonious connection has been established, not just in the relationship generally, but within a given interaction.
A class I'm currently taking on interfaith dialogue has reiterated this point to me multiple times -- people with different cultures and beliefs do not build friendships through interfaith dialogue; rather, interfaith dialogue is enabled by friendship, through human connections, through food and work and play. Only once feelings of trust and empathy are established will people (especially our inner knights) be willing and able to really hear one another and consider what they have heard.
What I realized about my text exchange yesterday is that I missed an opportunity to tune in to the peacewaves. My kinfolk had provided me a simple menu of two subjects to address -- one pertaining to tender, humble emotions, and another pertaining to a touchy philosophical argument.
When I received his text messages, I allowed my inner knight to choose the battling option, rather than the bonding option, to focus on. Yet what I realize in retrospect is that, the vast majority of the time, it is the bonding option that ultimately has the most chance of winning the "battles" anyway.
I was reminded that we are constantly offered waves to tune in to, waves to ride; we are constantly given opportunities criticize ourselves and others, make inflammatory statements, ignore feelings and needs, and ride the waves of anger and judgment; at the same time, we see constant opportunities to strengthen friendships, to learn new things, to humble ourselves in prayer, to grow, to build physical skills, to serve others in small and big ways, to calm ourselves in meditation, to brighten someone's day with a listening ear or an expression of gratitude, to make a beautiful song or a casserole. I want to tune in to those waves, the peace waves, and ride them when I can.
That doesn't mean avoiding conflict, or refusing to confront harsh realities. It means recognizing when fighting, even in the so-called peaceful form of logical argumentation and fact-spouting, is futile. As I said, there are those rare and precious moments when we need to preach or even shout the facts. But we will be happier and more effective if we recognize when a "battle" is best fought by waging slow, steady friendship, rather than war, and focusing on the facts of the heart, rather than the facts of the mind.
There are times when getting back on the peacewaves is a struggle. But often, the peacewaves and the fighting waves are all gently flowing my way, inviting me to hop on. All I have to do is choose to get on board the peacewaves.
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