by Elly van Laar | Sep 17, 2014 | Compassion, Compassionate Communication, Marshall Rosenberg, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication, Self-compassion
Tonight I am gonna sit with my Sangha as silent witness as Lisa Coleman gets executed.
What good does my sitting do? How is my sitting on the steps of Capitol Hill with ten or less people, hardly visible, not even at the place of the execution, gonna make a difference?
I should be like Sister Prejean. She has been working incessantly for the abolishment of the death penalty for the last 30 years. She visits death row inmates, she travels the country non-stop to engage with the audience, she speaks on television and radio. Her story even got filmed as Dead Man Walking.
I should do so much more.
Marshall Rosenberg refers to Dan Greenburg to demonstrate “the insidious power that comparative thinking can exert over us. He suggests that if readers have a sincere desire to make life miserable for themselves, they might learn to compare themselves to other people. For those unfamiliar with this practice, he provides a few exercises.” Dan starts with the suggestion to compare ourselves to a male and female photo model. Just observe their body measurements and compare theirs to ours.
I don’t even need to do that exercise. Only thinking about it, makes me miserable: my belly is too poochy, my breasts are too small and hanging, the corners of my mouth growl down in seemingly dissatisfaction.
“Since physical beauty is relatively superficial, Greenburg next provides an opportunity to compare ourselves on something that matters: achievement… Greenburg lists the languages Mozart spoke and the major pieces he had composed by the time he was a teenager. The exercise then instructs readers to reflect on their own achievements at their current stage of life, to compare them with what Mozart had accomplished by age twelve, and to dwell on the differences. Even readers who never emerge from the self-induced misery of this exercise might see how powerfully this type of thinking blocks compassion, both for oneself and for others.” (Marshall Rosenberg, Nonviolent Communication, 2003, p. 18-19)
Thank you, Marshall Rosenberg and Dan Greenburg, for your wisdom.
I will follow my heart’s calling and be true to myself. I will practice looking deeply to see how comparing myself to the achievements of others doesn’t nurture the peace, compassion, understanding, love, and support I want to bring into the world. I will honor myself and the contribution I can make with an open heart and sit as silent witness.
And that’s enough.
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You want help to follow your heart’s calling? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary discovery session.
by Elly van Laar | Apr 30, 2014 | Compassionate Communication, Marshall Rosenberg, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication, Personal Growth
You sit on your cushion at your Sangha. It is time for tea. The two cushions on your left and right are empty. As is customary when tea is served and your neighbor is off to the bathroom, you take two cups: one for yourself and one for your neighbor to your left. The person sitting right of the empty cushion to your right does the same. She doesn’t. Frustration is rising.
So now you have two cups for three persons. Trying to practice generosity, you offer your cup to your right neighbor. Ostensibly you pick up your water bottle to join the tea drinking ceremony. You hope everyone sees your sacrificing generosity. No one does. More angry thoughts pop up.
Someone gets up to get herself a cup of tea. She wasn’t served either. Angry thoughts start to race. ‘Which idiot is not even able to serve everyone tea!’
Someone gets up to bring tea to the Buddha. Full blown angry storm. ‘My gosh, how can they let a newcomer serve tea and not instruct him clearly?’
Oh, my goodness! Here you are at Sangha, a sacred place of mindfulness and compassion, and all you do is judge, evaluate, condemn. What’s wrong with you! Thank God no one can see all these angry thoughts.
Image courtesy to malamala.com
Then you remember Marshall Rosenberg’s invitation to ‘enjoy the jackal show’. Instead of judging your judgments, trying to get rid of them, you imagine them as little puppy jackal puppets, just doing their jackal thing.
A burden falls of your shoulders. Your shame dissipates and you start to relax. You see all these little jackal puppets jump up on stage, each with their specific line. They are actually disciplined enough to follow theater conventions and speak only one at a time. And they are quite cute, with their fluffy ears, doing their utmost best to deliver their lines as lively as possible. You are watching them with a certain interest and curiosity, and you’re noticing the detachment between these thoughts and you. You are not your thoughts, you’re just having them. Just thinking. Nothing more, nothing less. You start enjoying your water. You are right here, right now. Just drinking water, and enjoying the jackal show.
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You want help to enjoy your jackal show? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary, discovery session to see if and how I can help.
by Elly van Laar | Apr 23, 2014 | Compassionate Communication, Marshall Rosenberg, Nonviolent Communication
Something is jammed in my neck. It is stiff and painful. I can turn it -carefully- to the left and right. I can bend it forward. I can hardly bend it backward. Drinking my tea is a challenge.
Image courtesy to Flickr
I tell my husband about it. He immediately comes up with advice: take a ten minutes very hot shower, roll your back, let me give you an ortho bionomy treatment.
I love it. I love all his advice and faithfully follow up on all his suggestions.
Sometimes advice is much better than just empathy.
Marshall Rosenberg defines empathy as the ‘respectful understanding of what others are experiencing’. It is the slowing down to really get what it’s like to be the other person, to see their world through their eyes, to imagine walking in their shoes.
My husband could have responded with guessing my feelings and needs, our usual form of empathy. ‘I hear you’re in pain. Are you confused what happened? Are you worried about your neck? Are you scared you have a herniated disk and your insurance won’t pay for treatment? You want health, reassurance, physical safety?’ What if he had walked away, after I affirmed that he got it?
I would have felt sad, lonely, confused, maybe even frustrated that I didn’t get the support I so desperately wanted.
For me, true empathy always leads to the opening of the heart and a natural longing to relieve suffering and to contribute to life. For me, true empathy is not only guessing feelings and needs, it is also guessing the implicit, unspoken request hidden in what’s being shared. For me, true empathy leads to an openhearted curiosity to figure out how to support the other person’s needs and honoring your own. My husband got that without many words. He acted on it right away with his advice and offer for treatment.
Sometimes, advice is the natural result of true empathy. And more than welcome.
Thank you, David, my neck is much better and my trust that I can heal much increased.
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You want help to empathize with implicit requests? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary, discovery session to see if and how I can help.
by Elly van Laar | Apr 21, 2014 | Compassionate Communication, Marshall Rosenberg, Nonviolent Communication, Personal Growth, Self-compassion
Sometimes, no matter how hard you try and how sincere your intentions, your efforts to connect and support are not enough. What you wish for doesn’t happen, and you receive a response you wished you hadn’t received. Ouch moments. My friend doesn’t want to continue working together. An old panic comes up “You did something terribly wrong, you are a bad person, and because of that you don’t deserve connection, acceptance, belonging. Out with the bastard, off with her head!” A fear of rejection, ostracizing, and finally, lonely death. I know this fear too well, and it has determined many of my actions.
Marshall Rosenberg calls this emotional slavery. We think we are responsible for the happiness of the people around us and we go to great lengths to make sure they are happy: our sense of worthiness and emotional safety depend on it. We think they feel, because we do. So if they feel angry, sad, lonely, we did something fundamentally wrong. We have yet to learn that they feel, because they need and I feel, because I need.
There is freedom, an immense freedom, once we learn that we are not responsible for what we other people feel, that they feel because how they perceive their needs being met or unmet. As soon as we understand that their pain tells us something about them, not us, we can listen with care and compassion. What is going on for this person? What is the precious, tender message behind her complaints, blame, anger?
A few years ago I bought a bougainvillea. I was happy and took good care of her. I didn’t cut her back, I didn’t fertilize her, I made sure her feet were wet all the time. The bougainvillea wasn’t happy. She hardly bloomed, her stems were lengthy, her leaves droopy. And instead of taking her message personally (who does that anyway, with bougainvilleas?), I heard her complaints as the bougainvillea telling me something about her. I got it and immediately started to learn about bougainvillea care taking. Who doesn’t want to see their bougainvillea in full bloom? So the next year I let her roots dry out a little, I cut the stems back ferociously in spring, I fertilized her with special bougainvillea fertilizer. And she blooms as only a bougainvillea can bloom. Abundantly for months, and months, and months.
When we receive messages as people trying to tell us something about themselves, we have the freedom to contribute to their needs, or not. Without fear of rejection. Just a choice what makes life more wonderful in this moment.
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You want help to make contribute to life freely? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary, discovery session to see if and how I can help.
by Elly van Laar | Mar 21, 2014 | Compassionate Communication, Marshall Rosenberg, Nonviolent Communication
Grades are great of if you get A’s, especially if you’re among the few who get an A+. Even if you get an A– or a B+ they can still feel good.
Grades are less fun when you get a B or a B–, and they start to become painful if you get a C or less.
Instead of inspiring us to bring out the best in us, to nurture our own aspirations and values, to reach out for our own desires and dreams, grades teach us to strive for the goals others have set. They turn autonomy and authenticity into compliance, sometimes even fear.
What if every student always gets an A? By default? What if the student and teacher collaborate to figure out what the A is for? What if they clarify the observations underneath their appreciation? It might be the speed of their work. Or the congruence between their writing and the dictionary’s writing. Or the autonomy they pursued when they handed in an empty paper.
There is always a unique contribution, a precious quality in every action.
My dear friends, what would your A stand for? Maybe for your efforts to stay focused, your willingness to work on hard stuff, even if your attention is drawn elsewhere? Maybe for your ferocious trying to get it, even when you struggle? Maybe your courage to make mistakes and keep on trying to capture a new skill?
Thanks, Marshall Rosenberg for your work on Nonviolent Communication and for your revolutionary insight to speak from our hearts and our needs, instead of our evaluations and rewards.
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You want help to appreciate your efforts to learn? Contact me 512-589-0482 to schedule a complimentary, discovery session. I would be delighted to talk with you to see if and how I can help.
by Elly van Laar | Feb 19, 2014 | Compassionate Communication, Marshall Rosenberg, Mindfulness, Nonviolent Communication, Personal Growth
My friend is unhappy at work. She wants her boss to understand her troubles and acknowledge their shared responsibility in the problems. She hopes this will inspire him to support her finding a position where she will be seen and appreciated for her qualities.
Current conversations haven’t helped. She wants my advice how to proceed.
I tell her that I would start with “Beginning Anew”, and use feelings and needs language. As I talk, I notice that she grows quiet. I ask her how this idea lands with her.
It doesn’t. At all. She is sick and tired of having to listen first, of being the empathic and compassionate one. So far it turned out that her listening ended any conversation. The other responds to her accurate reflections of feelings and needs with “Exactly, that’s it” and walks away. No interest in her experience. No intention to include her needs.
I understand my friend.
Listening is just another strategy for connection. Reflecting feelings and needs can help to establish trust and understanding.
And it might not be sufficient.
Nonviolent Communication is not very nonviolent if it sustains an imbalance in resources. It is not very nonviolent if it excludes the needs of some and emphasize the needs of others. It is not very nonviolent if it silences the have-nots and favors the haves.
Sometimes we need self-expression as a strategy for connection. Sometimes we need to “scream in giraffe” (a term coined by Marshall Rosenberg) to be heard. Sometimes we need to take action to make sure all needs are included, also ours. Peace, connection, understanding are not possible if not all needs are supported.
Let’s practice using NVC to express our anger and unmet needs AND maintain connection. Let’s practice using NVC to support ALL needs. Let’s practice using NVC to awaken our awareness that our needs are interdependent, and that none can be happy if not all are happy.
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You want to learn to scream in giraffe? Contact me 512-589-0482. I would be excited to work with you!
I should be like Sister Prejean. She has been working incessantly for the abolishment of the death penalty for the last 30 years. She visits death row inmates, she travels the country non-stop to engage with the audience, she speaks on television and radio. Her story even got filmed as Dead Man Walking.
