Resistance to Change

In his chapter on resistance in Flawless Consulting, Peter Block makes the point that people often use the phrase "overcoming resistance," which implies that convincing or persuading people will win them over. This doesn't usually work. If your point of view wasn't persuasive to begin with, repeating it only leads people to dig their heels in deeper. If they don't buy your ideas, that's a cue they're either threatened in some way -- which to them is legitimate, or trying to maintain what is important to them -- which to them is legitimate. They may feel some concern about their credibility, their job security, their sense of autonomy, their competence; they may also see a lack of congruence between the proposed change and core organizational values.

Furthermore, those who defend the status quo play a valuable role. For starters, you may be missing something in your zeal for change that could help you avoid problems. These defenders probably also represent others who don't support the change (yet) and can raise your awareness of some important issues you need to address. Most important, because defenders have the courage and strength to present a challenge, you want them on your side, and it isn't necessary to fight for what you believe in order to make that happen.

Think of the futility of standing in a flooding river to stop its flow. When the "flow" of someone's energy is directed against your efforts, trying to convince them to head in a different direction can be equally futile. An effective way to deal with a flooding river is to divert the water using its own energy -- by digging a channel, for example. The same thing is true for people. If you think they're "stuck in a box," GET IN THE BOX WITH THEM! There are many ways to do this. One that has worked well with my clients is a version of creative problem solving I call reframing. Another is with the use of paradoxical problem solving.

In his classic article, "A Positive Approach to Resistance," H.B. Karp suggests "surfacing," "honoring," and exploring the resistance by making its expression as safe as possible and asking for all of it; at the same time listening, acknowledging;  reinforcing the notion that resistance is permissible, even valuable; and probing for alternatives. Karp reminds us "the objective is not to eliminate all resistance;" but instead to "work with and reduce needless resistance" and, once the conversation is workable, to "thank the resister and move on. It is important not to try to persuade the resister to like the demand. It is enough that the resister is willing to agree to it."

The Power of Metaphor

When we hold stubbornly to our current view of reality, that view can't be changed by intellectual understanding alone. We need to get to the "right-brain" functions – our more holistic, creative, spontaneous, nonverbal metaphorical selves. A metaphor is any communication – verbal or nonverbal – that uses analogies and symbols to create new meaning. This new way of looking at things can push us into a new reality. 

I've used a variety of approaches to engage clients symbolically, including stories, humor, poetry, or even gifts. Some examples of symbolic gifts:

• To a client who was very articulate, literate, and creative but too much of a perfectionist, I gave a box of magnetic poetry, along with the injunction that he could chastise others when he felt they deserved it, but then create a poem about them. I told him "I don't know if you'll ever ever actually do what I'm asking, but that's not the point about gifts of metaphor. This image is so strong it will stick and somehow change you."
• Another – who had made himself invaluable to the CEO – came to realize he was also doing the CEO's dirty work and alienating his colleagues, even when he didn't agree with the boss's directions. Just back from a trip to Mexico, I gave him a bandito puppet on strings as a metaphor for letting his boss pull his strings. He named it "Miguel" and sat it in a prominent place on his office bookshelves so he wouldn't forget.
• A female client – who pushed herself relentlessly toward success – was intrigued by Kathleen Noble's The Sound of A Silver Horn. I packaged a toy horn I'd painted silver and included the following excerpt from Noble's book:

There comes a moment in each quest cycle where a woman finds herself poised on the brink of transformation... the pivotal decision to embark upon an extraordinary journey of self-discovery... each quester who wins her way through to the portal of transformation must discard some part of herself in order to create a larger self and give birth to her own possibilities:

Better to see your cheek grown hollow,
Better to see your temple torn,
Than to forget to follow, follow,
After the sound of a silver horn.
(Elinor Wylie, "Madman's Song," Collected Poems, 1932)

• In the introduction to his book, Waking Up, Charles Tart wrote, "We need to awaken to reality, the reality of the problems caused by our fragmented selves, so we can discover our deeper selves and the reality of our world, undistorted by our entranced condition." I gave this book to a client who was particularly entranced in his moody withdrawal from the reality of his organization's culture. I suggested he place it face-out on the book shelf across from his desk, so the title would remind him to "wake up."
• A CEO who withdrew from social interaction needed to spend more time connecting with people – more "management by walking around." An introvert, he found this very, very difficult. He was a life-long sailor who said watching the sunset from his boat was when he was most deeply in touch with his own emotions and higher purpose. I gave him a small ship in a bottle to symbolize both the potential of his affection and how "bottled up" he kept her emotions.
• With a client who frequently complained about her co-workers, we personified each of them with finger puppets. Starting with her opinion about those she disliked the most, she gave each negative characteristic to a finger puppet: "officious," "cold fish," "gets the drop on you," etc. After some work exploring these negative opinions as projections, she was able to own those characteristics in herself. She then transformed each finger puppet to represent the same cluster of traits but with positive characteristics: "well-spoken / articulate," "tremendous capacity for work / detail," "technically skilled / smart / capable," etc.
• I've often used symbolic prizes with teams, such as T-shirts with relevant slogans or toys that represented interaction dynamics. For example, I gave one team member – who was kind of full of himself – a shirt depicting a frog that urged, "Kiss me...I'm a prince!" This was a humorous and easy way to get at his narcissistic behaviors, whereas direct feedback from his team-mates would probably have raised his defenses.
• A bossy and blunt manager wanted to show more of his soft side. He knew how tender he could be and how protective he was of his team. He also knew he could get outrageously angry in staff meetings, but he thought others over-reacted to his outbursts. It was difficult for him to step outside of himself and observe how intimidating he was. So I gave him a teddy bear with glued-on, paper teeth.
• One of my clients who had adult ADD found it almost impossible to stay focused and to finish things she started. I gave her a sandalwood prayer bead necklace I'd had for many, many years and asked her to hold it in her hand when she had a project to finish.   

Practices in Presence: The Land of AND

Years ago, I bought the book Presence: An Exploration of Profound Change in People, Organizations, and Society because its title promised to illuminate an approach to change that Tim Flood and I developed, based on the premise that staying completely within metaphors, an exciting and powerful way to bring about transformational change, requires full presence. 

But what is "presence"? According to the authors of Presence, pp. 13-14):

"We first thought of presence as being fully conscious and aware in the present moment. Then we began to appreciate presence as deep listening, of being open beyond one's preconceptions and historical ways of making sense. We came to see the importance of letting go of old identities and the need to control . . . leading to a state of 'letting come,' of consciously participating in a larger field for change." 

In other words, spontaneous presence is absent of all preconceived notions, all self-talk, all assumptions and beliefs. It is trust in a "knowing" that has nothing to do with logical efforts. This knowing is absolute, unmistakable, and has a kind of magical quality: "Wow! Where did that come from?"

As it turned out, reading the book influenced me with more than intellectual understanding, illustrated by something that happened when Tim and I were finalizing materials for the playshop, The Land of AND. To maintain presence, we planned a variety of improv exercises ("Say yes and . . ," "There are no mistakes"), envisioning small spiral notebooks on long ribbons around participants' necks so they could quickly flip to brief instructions for each new activity.

We used every kind of logic to figure out the length of the ribbon, how to attach a pen, etc., but no matter what we did, when testing a prototype, the ribbon pulled the spiral wire loose from the notebook. 

Finally, when we were feeling “brain dead” (a good thing, as it turned out), I started laughing hysterically. When I could speak, I said “If only they had pouches like kangaroos . . .” my internal judge translating the image as something silly.

 

But as I slept that night my self-critic also slept, and I awakened the next morning with the clear image of two-pocket folders that could be converted, with a little snipping, into “pouches.” At Office Depot, as if conjured up by magic, I saw a bin of beautiful, translucent blue, two-pocket folders – on sale for a penny apiece! 

We had our solution, and I have a potent reminder of presence. 

Hitchhiking to the Grand Ole Opry

I don’t think change efforts have to be work. In particular, using metaphors to stimulate change can be a very playful process.

In a coaching session with a manager who was a bit of a perfectionist, he and I talked about problems his team described when his teaching mode slipped into preaching. While exploring together how to loosen that pattern playfully, I asked him to think of situations where he didn’t take the teacher role. 

"I used to hitchhike in the Sixties," he recalled, "and I learned a lot from conversations with people who gave me a ride." 

When he began to imagine himself in meetings as “hitching a ride,” conversing with people who work for him as if they’re traveling companions, it made a world of difference.

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Asked to consider who her inner critic resembled, another client I'll call Elsa said, "She looks like me, but sounds like my mother."

When I asked “How is she dressed?” Elsa burst out laughing: “She’s dressed like Minnie Pearl from the Grand Ole Opry.” 

You know Elsa will never again respond to her inner judge in the same way. How could she? She’ll be picturing the words coming from a sassy comedian wearing a big straw hat with a $1.98 price tag hanging from the side!

Coaching for Managers: Helping Employees Loosen their Personality Traps

I've almost finished revising a small handbook for managers that I created for a client company more than a decade ago--a slant on change that's common among psychologists but I haven't seen addressed in other Enneagram books except my own: a detailed version, with business examples, of why it doesn't work to hit someone while saying "Don't hit!"  

The premise here is for managers to approach each employee from the perspective of the employee's key Enneagram fixation with the goal of helping to loosen their fixed point of view and broaden their perspective. For example, if you're coaching someone who's stuck in black and white thinking, it's ineffective in the long run to say, "You're taking the wrong approach here." 

That employee already thinks in terms of right/wrong, and while they may comply with a specific instruction, you won't be helping them loosen the shackles of Enneagram point One, and different versions of their being too judgmental a voice on the team will continue to show up.

More in Out of the Box Coaching with the Enneagram. 

No More of the Same

The belief that one's own view of reality is the only reality is the most dangerous of all delusions. Paul Watzlawick.

One of the coaches I mentored asked for the sources of my distinction between first-order change and second-order change. My earliest influences were Bateson's Steps to an Ecology of Mind and Watzlawick et al's Change; later, Senge's The Fifth Discipline and Hargrove's Masterful Coaching.

While the terminology of these authors and I may differ, we share some common principles:

First-order change is a temporary "fix" to a problem without examining the underlying patterns that caused the problem; the typical result is "more of the same." Senge, for example, identifies archetypes arising from attempts at organizational change that feed the original dynamic.

Second-order change is a radical shift in worldview and consequent actions; it requires systems thinking, the ability to step back and intervene in the dynamics that have reinforced "more of the same."

Political satire, "more of the same"

 

First-order change in coaching similarly refers to learning new skills or capabilities that involve doing something better without examining or challenging underlying beliefs and assumptions. Second-order change occurs when clients step outside their current perspective, examine their frame of reference, and do something different. As a coach, you help them (a) observe the assumptions and behavioral patterns that have kept the same problems cropping up over and over, and (b) fundamentally reframe their worldview. As a consequence, they become less habit-driven, more open, and increasingly self-aware.

For example, Bill Danvers was  VP of Sales, in line to be president of his company. The CEO had annointed him because of spectacular sales results, not realizing Bill had taken all the credit in spite of behind-the-scenes support from VPs of other functions. After agreeing with his peers on negotiation parameters, he would override those agreements to make deals with customers that other functions didn't have the resources to support in the expected time frame. So if customers became dissatisfied, Bill still looked like the golden boy and his peers took all the blame.

His underlying drive was to succeed at any cost. Consequently, the other VPs didn't trust him and wouldn't support his bid to be their boss. Because he wanted their approval, Bill agreed to tell customers his offers were tentative and to confirm with his peers before closing the deal. This first-order change might have temporarily satisfied others in the organization, but if his fundamental drive continued to serve his own achievements at the cost of theirs, nothing fundamental would have changed and he would again have lost their trust.

With a systemic view of his behavioral patterns, Bill Danvers began to acknowledge evidence of his competitiveness and his high need to be recognized for his successes. He became aware of childhood messages that his worth depended on his individual accomplishment. With the goal of second-order change, I helped raise Bill's awareness when feelings of competitiveness and approval-seeking behavior began to grip him. He was gradually able to intervene with new responses and authentically collaborate with his peers.

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For a personality-based explanation, see the discussion beginning at the bottom of page 4 in my book with Clarence Thomson, Out of the Box Coaching with the Enneagram. For more about first- and second-order change, see Tompkins and Lawley's  When the Remedy is the Problem.

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