by Elly van Laar | Jan 24, 2017 | Compassion, Empathy, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication
I’m playing Triominos. By myself. Usually I play with my husband, but he isn’t home. I put nine tiles in front of my right hand, and nine tiles in front of my left hand.
My right hand has the triple five and starts.
My left hand needs to take a stone.
My right hand is excited as it puts down a perfect match for the triple five.
“Bummer” — my left hand needs to pass again.
“Awesome!” — my right hand puts down its third stone — “I’m winning!”
Then my left hand puts out a stone, relieved.
“You blocked my move!” — says my right hand, irritated.
My left hand can put down a second stone — “Nothing is lost yet. Pfew.”
My right hand gets agitated — “Again: you blocked me!”
After a few more rounds, my right hand can finally declare victory — “I won!!”
Playing by myself and hearing these habitual voices about winning and losing go through my mind, I think of Thich Nhat Hanh’s teachings on interbeing:
“Non-violence can be born only from the insight of non-duality, of interbeing. This is the insight that everything is interconnected and nothing can exist by itself alone. Doing violence to others is doing violence to yourself. If you do not have the insight of non-duality, you will still be violent. You will still want to punish, to suppress, and to destroy. But once you have penetrated the reality of non-duality, you will smile at both the flower and garbage in you, you will embrace both.” (Thich Nhat Hanh, Anger, p. 70)
I love this teaching.
I also struggle with it.
I get it when I look at my right and left hand playing against each other. They are part of the same body.
I forget it when I’m in conflict with people and think they are the cause of my hurt, fear, or anger. When I see ‘them’ as the enemy and ‘me’ as the angel. I want to withdraw, or lash out. I want someone to tell me how right I am and how wrong they are.
And yet, when I utter harsh words against my husband, I feel miserable. When I yell at someone in traffic, I feel anxious and upset. When I ignore the suffering of Syrian refugees, I feel ashamed.
As much as I struggle to put the teaching of interbeing into practice, I continue the effort, because in my heart I know it’s true. I feel more at peace if I see the interbeing of Nazis and Jews, white supremacists and blacks, the one percent and the 99%.
I want to remember that in the end we are held in the same Earth, who accepts us unconditionally, without discrimination. I want to remember that we all return to compost. Especially when I feel a frustrated urge to withdraw or an angry urge to lash out.
For my greater happiness. And for the greater happiness of others.
Let me know how this landed for you.
by Elly van Laar | Nov 18, 2016 | Compassionate Communication, Empathy, Fear, Nonviolent Communication
I am sitting happily in my backyard, writing in my journal. It’s 8 am. The sun is shining. The breeze is fresh, it’s finally cooling off in Texas. It’s quiet and peaceful.
Then I hear hassle and bustle in the tree above my head. I see a squirrel on the branch, maybe 12 feet away. His two beady eyes stare directly down at me. With curiosity. I assume.
I look back with delight at his beauty: his lush tail, dark eyes, brown fur.
As he continues to stare at me, I start to feel uncomfortable. Why is he waving his tail? Why is he gnawing so loudly? And why does he keep staring at me? What if this is not a curious squirrel? What if this is an aggressive squirrel on a mission to protect his territory, whatever it takes? What if he jumps down to plunge his sharp claws into my face, or worse, into my eyes?
I feel scared. I cannot take the risk. I want to keep my eyes. I hiss at him as ferociously as I can. I make enough commotion to scare him, and he runs away.
It reminds me of other moments when I use protective force to make sure my needs are seen and supported.
I use protective force, when I don’t trust the other person has the capacity or willingness to see and support all needs. I take action to keep everyone safe, including me.
For example, I would pull a kid out of the street, when a car is coming. Or I might leave a relationship when I can’t compassionately process the criticism, dismissal, or contempt I experience. I use force to protect my needs for emotional safety, respect, and to be seen.
It is forceful, because I make a choice without dialogue.
I don’t ask the kid: “Hey, do you see that car coming?” If I did that, the car crashes into the kid, before I finish my sentence. The same might be true for a relationship. If the pain I experience in my connection is larger than my capacity to process it, I am risking my physical, emotional and mental health.
Protective use of force is not about punishment.
I don’t need to shoot the squirrel to feel safe. I don’t need to blame or shame him for behaving as he does. He hisses and gnaws to meet his needs. That’s his choice. It doesn’t mean I have to accept it.
We don’t need to demand change, in order to protect needs.
I can protect my needs myself. If I am respectful and take a stand, I can find a solution that supports as many needs as possible. I can do it unilaterally, until the other party is ready to work together from a place of compassion. By protecting ourselves we transform from victim to actor.
Without a victim, there is no perpetrator.
by Elly van Laar | May 6, 2016 | Compassionate Communication, Empathy, Nonviolent Communication, NVC
“Stop running around. Stay here.”
An irritated look. Something like frustration, exasperation, helplessness.
“Don’t touch that! No, we’re not getting candy.”
The mom in front of me in line gets more and more agitated. I see a frown on her face, her lips tighten. I hear her voice rise and speed up. She clenches to her cart as if to prevent herself from strangling her 5-year old son. I can almost feel her suffering.
I imagine her kid is bored: He never signed up for shopping. If it was up to him he would just have fun and run around with his friends.
“Stop it!!!”
I turn to her, trying to keep a sense of acceptance and understanding of her frustration, her longing for efficiency and cooperation from her son. With a smile I say, “He is really excited about everything in the store. I guess it is a challenge to keep him in line when he has this much energy?”
She looks at me with surprise. Then at her son. I am not sure if she ever thought of interpreting his behavior as anything other than annoying. “Yes, he is…” Her furrow disappears. Her mouth relaxes. Her grip softens.
I turn to the boy who got curious what we are talking about. “I bet you see many, many things you’d like to take home, with all that candy around?” He seems surprised, maybe grateful. As if he didn’t expect his behavior to elicit an adult’s curiosity, let alone understanding and acceptance. Perhaps it usually triggers frustration or admonishment. “Yeah!!! I love that chocolate, it’s really good!”
His mom and I look at each other with a smile. Almost at the same time, we say, “We love that chocolate too!” We chuckle at our timing. He gets back in line. His mom is ready to check out. They seem more relaxed and open towards each other – I supported reconnection.
I leave the store happy and satisfied.
I could have gotten irritated over the mom’s impatience.
I easily get triggered when I don’t think children get the respect and understanding I think they deserve. I have a big “Children SHOULD BE UNDERSTOOD NOT BULLIED!” in my head. This time I transformed my habitual trigger into a change of perspective of both the mom’s and the boy’s behavior. He tried to meet a universal, human need for play or autonomy. She wanted support. Because I was not entangled in their relationship, and I was able to self-connect and transform my own trigger, I could create a new perspective.
My simple offering allowed the mom to see her son in a different way.
A small gift of empathy. It served all of us.
So happy to connect with you David. Thanks for editing!
by Elly van Laar | Apr 22, 2016 | Empathy, Personal Growth
I want to enter a ICF-coach certification program. To support my sense of integrity, trust, community, growth and learning. I look into all kinds of coaching certification programs:
- “Openness to feedback, capacity for self-examination, willingness to challenge one’s own beliefs.” That’s it, that’s exactly me!
- “The only program that fully integrates positive psychology and neuroscience with advanced coaching skills.” Wow, that’s awesome!
- “Sponsorship with the Institute of Coaching, at McLean Hospital, Harvard Medical School.” Oh, my god, associated with Harvard!
- “NLP is a cutting-edge modality in the coaching field, backed by research on neuroscience and cognitive therapy.” NLP, I must have that.
And those are just some of the things on the websites of the first four ICF-approved coaching certification programs I’m looking at. I am looking at six more.
I feel overwhelmed. How am I gonna choose between all those fantastic websites, the one snazzier than the other? They all look the same, although they have a different appeal to me, based on academic rigor, methodology, faculty and areas of focus.
I decide to simplify my choices by using Richard Bolles prioritizing grid. (His student Beverly Ryle made an online version that you can personalize based on how many items you want to choose from). I start by numbering the different schools 1-10. Then I chose between two at a time and circle the number of my preference in the box. When I am done choosing, I count how many times I circled each number. I then put the schools in the order of their final ranking. The one that is highest is apparently my preference.
I feel super relieved. It is not much work. I am done in 15 minutes. I guess that I have a subconscious preference for academics, inclusion of different modalities, peer coaching, self-reflection and -transformation.
Now that I am clear about my first two choices I can go interview staff and alumni, to see if it is indeed a good fit. If not, I go for number 3 and do interviews, till I found a program of my liking.
For now I am choosing between The Executive and Professional Certificate Program at the Naveen Jindal School of Management, UT Dallas and the School of Coaching Mastery to be a Certified Positive Psychology Coach. You have experience with these schools? I would love to hear from you! (512-589-0482)
by Elly van Laar | Apr 15, 2016 | Compassion, Empathy, Personal Growth, Self-compassion
Have you ever met your inner child?
I have.
At the Mindfulness Retreat I attended with my Thich Nhat Hanh Sangha last weekend.
I was enthralled by the workshop Gale and Curt organized for us. I valued the support for deep self-connection, the safety of our group, the sharing in our circle, the individual and pair work it offered.
I cried a lot.
And yet, I was not suffering. I was not even sad. I was just touched to spend time with my inner child.
My inner child has a sense of innocence, happiness and excitement about life. She is curious and eager to learn and contribute. She is satisfied with where she’s at and doesn’t need much.
She certainly doesn’t need the forcefulness of a protector — a protector who lives in the fear and responses she created when I was around eight years old. A protector who still thinks it is 1973 – who believes she has to scramble to get a pancake before they are eaten by her siblings. A protector who still carries the fear that her siblings will start to talk over her as soon as she starts to tell about her day and stutters.
My inner child knows better.
She knows that was then and now is now. She doesn’t fear that there isn’t enough, or afraid that she doesn’t matter. She simply trusts that we share our basic goodness and that the world is a fantastic place – waiting to be explored and enjoyed. My inner child engages people and life with openness, authenticity and vulnerability.
I am so moved to meet her.
As I look at her, I understand Thich Nhat Hanh’s Second Mindfulness Training in a whole new way:
True Happiness: “…I can live happily in the present moment, simply by remembering that I already have more than enough conditions to be happy…”
I always thought that those conditions referred to my material well-being, my physical health, my marriage and friendships. This weekend I learned they do not. The conditions of my happiness are the unconditional acceptance and love I receive from my inner child. With her I can relax. With her I can manifest my true self and realize my dreams.
Contact me 512-589-0482 to understand and nourish the conditions of your happiness.
Thank you, David Nayer, for editing this blog at such a late notice. My life is richer by your support.
by Elly van Laar | Apr 8, 2016 | Empathy, Personal Growth
Do you see my seedlings?
Aren’t they adorable, little plants growing up?
I am so happy with them. Every morning, as soon as I get up, I take a look at them. Very carefully. Did they sprout? Did they grow? Are they getting second leaves? I water them, measure them, write down their growth, and carry them around into the sun and back into the house. One night I wake up by an enormous thunderclap. I realize with a shock my seedlings are still outside. I run outside to rescue them, barefoot, no cover against the rain. Nothing seemed more important than to protect my seedlings from the gushes of wind and the pouring rain. The next morning, I felt relieved to see them as perky as before.
My husband calls them my babies, as he listens to my excitement about taking care of them.
I never compared them with each other. When all the other plants were peeking out through the dirt, I didn’t tell the sunflower seeds to look at their neighbors, hoping the comparison would sprout their seeds faster. I accepted their own pace. I didn’t label the nasturtium seeds as “lazy”, when they came out last. I knew they would come out in their own time. I didn’t pull on the leaves of the cosmos, so they would develop a second set of leaves. I did none of that.
I nurtured and protected, and carefully observed them to understand the conditions of their happiness. Because I trust their self-actualizing energy.
I don’t need to tell them to grow up, because they want to. Every seed is born with an innate, natural drive to grow into the next step of their full potential. Their potential, their true self. Not into what they or others think they should be (at least, I hope so). The bachelor’s button doesn’t try to be a zinnias. They want to be themselves.
For me, this gardening project is a magnificent lesson in how I want to treat myself.
I want to show myself as much acceptance and respect as I show my little plants. I want to offer myself as much nurturance and protection as I offer them. And I want to nourish self-empathy and self-compassion, so I can understand and nourish the conditions of my happiness.
I hope you do the same for yourself.
Contact me 512-589-0482 to understand and nourish the conditions of your happiness.
Thank you, David Nayer, for giving me feedback on the previous version of this blog. I enjoy your support.
