The Sweet Spot

Dr. Bast underscores how the Enneagram is an especially helpful tool in teamwork, helping team members to non-defensively appreciate each others' differences and communicate more clearly. Enneagram Applications.

A common U.S. business leadership type, described by Robert Kaplan in Beyond Ambition as the "striver-builder," is personality style Three in the Enneagram. According to Kaplan, "This type specializes in building up organizations (to gain) high regard from the world. Their parents expected a great deal of them, and they internalized those high expectations." Their key motivation is to distinguish themselves, and leadership is an integral part of their drive toward success.

People with this leadership style want to look good. On the plus side, they have a supreme focus on results and excellence. But this same quality can generate competitiveness and a tendency to disregard others' input. Because they typically may not be introspective, it's an important aspect of coaching striver-builders to nourish their interior life so they see how ambition, image-consciousness, and self-promotion are driven by unconscious patterns.

When you coach high-achieving clients to do this inner work, they retain their gifts of confidence and energy while becoming more communal. Kaplan adds, "In the best cases, striver-builders also come to a personal acceptance of their limitations; they learn to get satisfaction out of committing themselves fully to something or someone outside of themselves."

The paragraphs above are from one of my articles in Enneagram Applications, the originals written almost 15 years ago. As I read them now, from the vantage point of 15 more years of coaching experience, I find that summary overly serious.

The "sweet spot" is a term commonly used in baseball but also holding a broader meaning as a metaphor. In a qigong class, we learned a rather difficult form where the knees are bent and the body is turned so that one knee rests behind the other. In the beginning it felt a bit like the game "Twister," but suddenly I was outside the physical effort, experiencing a sense of "rightness" and "fit." When I tried to describe it afterwards, my teacher said, as if this happens every day, "Oh yes, you found the sweet spot."

Instead of framing as "serious work" your clients' efforts to release their unconscious patterns, help them lessen their burden and seek their sweet spot.

Betting on Change

In an Erickson Foundation Newsletter (Vol. 23, No. 3) article, "Making the Illusion Real," a case was described where "Allison," a "six-foot-two, big-boned woman held her entire family hostage to the fear that she would embarrass them. She was brash and insensitive to anyone's feelings but her own. With glee, she would point out any shortcoming or physical imperfection a person might have." 

This woman might be a personality style Eight -- they don't always realize how devastating their humor can be to the recipient or embarrassing to others around them. Members of Allison's family, though, valued the illusion of family unity and were afraid she wouldn't come to family get-togethers if they confronted her. 

Her brother Jim wanted very much for the family to get along better and came to the therapist for advice, but also said "there was nothing to do and he just had to live with it." The therapist supported Jim (who could be a style Six) in his belief that he was powerless to make the family more cohesive, but also listened carefully to Jim's description of their get-togethers. 

The family always had betting pools on sporting events they watched on TV, so the therapist suggested they "set up a betting pool to predict how long after Allison arrived she would drop the first bomb? Or to whom it would be directed? Or how many of her all-time favorite 'inappropriatenesses' she would do in an hour?" Jim was convulsed with laughter at the idea – a good sign, and one I often see when a question or suggestion has already broken through habitual ways of thinking. 

On the face of it, the therapist's suggestion may seem manipulative compared to more direct confrontation. But it's a good example of the invocation to "do something different" in order to break a trance. The focus was not on teaching Jim new communication skills. That might well have no effect on Allison. By shifting the family's focus, the therapist's suggestion could change the way they viewed Allison.

Jim reported later to the therapist that the get-together was wonderful. Rather than feeling fear or hurt, family members were now curious to see what she'd do, anticipating disappointment if they lost the pool. And because of the shift in their responses, they showed more acceptance toward Allison. She felt this difference and joined in with their post-game banter. "She was no longer an outsider, but one of the family."

Transcend and Include

Transcend and include -- each moment transcends (or is external to) the previous moment, which becomes internal to (or enfolded in) the new moment. Ken Wilber

A LinkedIn group discussion itriggered many questions about how or if coaching might be based on a client's preference for the self-preservation instinct (home, food, security, family), the one-to-one instinct (personal energy, sexuality, close relationships, spiritual union), or the social instinct (social identity, participation in groups and community).

For those who want to know more about the instinctual subtypes, there's a good introduction at Peter O'Hanranhan's web site.

Some teachers have used the metaphor of a three-legged stool with one leg each for the self-preservation, one-to-one, and social instincts. This metaphor is not unique to the Enneagram community, nor is the notion that an ideal "stool" will be perfectly balanced. In academic medicine the three legs of the stool are teaching, patient care, and research. The Episcopal Church's stool has scripture, reason, and tradition as legs.

The Enneagram instincts stool is often described as having one leg shorter than the other two, that leg being the one we over-use -- the one where our personality's ego-structure plays out most of its habitual behavior, a way we fall "asleep" in daily life. Perfectionists whose primary instinctual drive is self-preservation, for example, would tend to focus on organizing their physical world, on doing things right, and as coaches we would explore the degree to which this is an over-zealous, unconscious, habit-driven focus.

Perfectionists might also assume that the legs of the stool should be exactly the same length. But that's not a helpful coaching assumption. A coaching client with a one-to-one focus might have identified and released some key patterns in his one-to-one interactions as well as in his self-preservation focus. His social instinct might still be less developed than the other two, but there's nothing necessarily wrong with that, no need to ensure that his connection with community is exactly even with self-preservation and one-to-one relationships.

The coaching questions are always and only, "How do I help clients become more conscious?" "What are their habitual patterns?" "How do these patterns operate?" "As clients step aside, without judgment, and gain a broader perspective, how might they interrupt a pattern?"

If the client with a one-to-one focus comes for coaching to be more comfortable in groups, that's a coaching opportunity. And I asked Peter O'Hanrahan to show how that might work, coaching me as an Enneagram Nine with a primary one-to-one and secondary self-preservation focus. We were looking for a way to move the energy around, to extend it in a new way.

I described attending an LGBT-sponsored dance at my church. I wanted to support the group, but entered the room in my habitual, one-to-one way, looking for someone familiar, feeling discomfort surrounded by so many faces of acquaintances I didn't know very well. I did find two people I knew, sat and chatted at their table for about 30 minutes, then left for the sanctity of my home and a good book I looked forward to finishing. Nothing wrong there. But I wish to be more comfortable in social settings, to release the habitual response of feeling marginal in groups.

Peter asked me to consider situations where I do feel quite comfortable in a group, and I described my qigong classes. As I mentioned in another blog post, I'm a body-based type -- I learn kinesthetically and my discomfort in groups is physical. Peter said, "So what would be a way for you to stay grounded in your body while being around those people at the church party? Notice how your attention goes out to the people in that space, notice your anxiety, and bring your attention back into your body, being grounded in the way you are in qigong classes."

I have since been in groups where I had a chance to practice this grounding, felt surprisingly comfortable, and also noticed a spontaneous change -- I was quite chatty!

Up the Hill and Over

"If we truly trust our process, we go where our deep work leads us. We do not predetermine where or what that will be...  If we will not or cannot explore and accept the what is, we are doomed to be stuck." Ann Wilson Schaef, Living in Process.

Unlike a model of coaching where clients set goals and go about achieving them – while the coach acts as cheerleader, teacher, and sometimes hall monitor – staying fully present to  patterns requires playful surrender. "Playful" in the sense of open curiosity, choosing to enter new arenas without the need to follow old rules or control outcomes. This means observing what shows up without judgment. It also means the coach and the client are willing to follow wherever the process leads.

So I was delighted last week to hear from a client how she used an instance of biking up a hill to learn about her pattern of anger: 

"I'm biking up this hill and I'm so angry, thinking I'm just going to let this anger out. I'm going to sweat, I'm going to ride my bike up this hill. I'm not going to get off and walk, I'm going to bicycle up this hill, exerting myself and thinking what I was angry about, letting that anger push me up the hill. There was even a moment when I was going up the hill that it became so real I started to cry. And I realized, That's my way of not being angry!

I stopped four times because it was a nasty hill. But I didn't give up, because I'm sick of not being in touch with my anger. I don't want to give up on being me, of being present in this relationship with my husband."

Schaef describes dysfunctional relationships as "my mask relating to your mask," whereas in real relationships each partner "mirrors, reflects, and augments our primary relationship with our living process." Among many other qualities of a real relationship, "We recognize that when we have a strong reaction to something our spouse is saying or doing... it may very well be triggering an old deep process in us that is now ready to be worked out."

True to my client's intention to be present in her marriage, she described an interaction with her husband: 

"He said something, I disregarded it, and he pulled me up with, "Fine! Be passive-aggressive toward me!" He was being a smart aleck. But when I said "Oh, I really was! Thank you for showing me," he laughed, said, "You're hilarious," and kissed me.

Do you see the playfulness, the lightness? This is a great reminder that when we truly surrender to learning about ourselves without judgment, we don't need the old defenses anymore, and others respond in kind.

On the Level

In AA the concept “one day at a time” means much more than “I won’t take a drink for the next 24 hours.” Gradually the intention to live one day at a time evolves into the intention to live one day at a time, as if you only have this one day to live. Behind all our attempts to change lies the one fundamental truth – if we live one day at a time, if we are fully present, our habitual reaction to the world can no longer play out automatically. 

Many models for presence are founded in meditation. Certainly, learning to be present in meditation can transfer to greater awareness in everyday life. As J. Krishnamurti said, however: For many of us... the steady and consistent practice of sitting meditation can be elusive.  

Luckily, meditation is not the only way to learn presence. We also become more present when we listen deeply. Most coaching schools emphasize a level of listening that goes beyond the obvious. Co-Active Coaching lists three levels of listening: 

Level I (Internal Listening) “We listen to the words of the other person but the focus is on what it means to us.”

Level II (Dialogue) “There is a sharp focus on the other person.” This is what is typically meant by “active listening.” 

Level III (Global Listening), “You listen at 360 degrees… as though you and the client were at the center of the universe receiving information from everywhere at once… as though you’re surrounded by a force field that contains you, the client, and a space of knowing… The key to  Level III listening is simply to take in the information and play with it and see what emerges.”

Otto Sharmer (Theory U: Leading from the Future as it Emerges) offers similar but slightly more differentiated levels of listening: 

“Listening 1 (from habits) – habits of judgment that lead to reconfirming old opinions and judgments, 

Listening 2 (from outside) – factual listening and noticing differences that lead to new data;
 
Listening 3 (from within) – empathic listening that leads to seeing through another’s eyes and emotional connection; and

Listening 4 (from Source) – generative listening that connects us with an emerging future and shifts our identity/self.”

The following example shows how greater self-awareness can move clients from habitual/internal listening to generative/global listening.

Jane, a widow (Enneagram style Seven) is in love with Bob (style Nine), who’s compassionate, loving, and helpful with her son and daughter. He supports Jane’s parenting approach and also engages her two teenagers in activities that take the burden of full responsibility from her shoulders. Bob has been single for some time and his sisters in a large family have come to depend on him for help with repairs and other problems. One weekend, Jane and Bob carve out two hours alone together. Just as they’re starting out on a long walk, Bob’s cell phone rings with a desperate call from one of his sisters that her heat is off and she’s freezing. 

1. Although Jane agrees to go with Bob to help his sister, she listens to herself at level 1, “What does this mean for me?” and thinks, “This was supposed to be our time together. He has all these other demands on him. There will never be enough time for me.”
    
2. Instead of reacting from this level, however, she stays with it and listens to herself at level 2. (“What can I learn from the facts?”) as Bob explains his sister Maggie’s desperate financial straits and adds that he’d like to check in quickly, have Jane meet Maggie, and then he and Jane can continue their walk.
    
3. At Maggie’s small house Jane talks with Maggie while Bob checks on the heating problem. Jane now listens to herself at level 3 (“What do I see when I look through their eyes?”) and notices how affectionately Bob and his sister treat each other. She empathizes with both of them and realizes that Bob’s behavior with his sister comes from the same fountain of compassion Jane experiences from him.
    
4. She continues to stay present, now listening at level 4 (“What is there to know that’s beyond what I presently know?”). In this place of full presence, she sees that her initial, habitual reaction came from a fundamental, patterned belief: “There will never be enough for me.” She shifts to a different sense of identity—”I am not my pattern”—and its hold on her is released.

Take Time to Celebrate

I'll admit it, I was wrong!

I used to emphasize how quickly my coaching methods can bring about change, looking askance at coaches who had clients for a year or more.

And of course I still revel in the immediate insights, the excitement of new possibilities in two or three productive coaching sessions.

Last week, however, I celebrated with a client of more than six years, recognizing the time and effort involved in truly freeing ourselves, how we can breathe a little deeper each time we expand the confines of the "box" of personality.

This client has stayed with me through two jobs and an ever closer look at her career aspirations, the gifts and blind spots of her personality style, her communication with family and co-workers, her reactions to authority. She has recently resigned from a job that didn't offer the promotion she now knows she fully deserves:

As I look back over my years in this job, I've seen great improvement in my relationships, in my competency, in less rigidity about everything -- not having to be perfect. When I'm comfortable I'm relaxed, funny, and people have made comments about my positive energy.

Last week my staff and my boss took me out for lunch. We had fun, lots of laughter, and they gave me gifts.that acknowledged me as a person -- chocolates, which they know I love; a hat to wear in the sun because they know I walk every day; a photo of me and my staff with an inscription on the frame -- "There are no days; only moments" -- and a necklace with a heart pendant. 

The necklace is symbolic of my metaphor of "heart disease" to describe our organizational culture and my wish that we could all have "healthy hearts" -- be more open to each other, show more mutual respect.

When you and I first started working together, I told you, "I don't have friends at work." This time around I walked away from that job with a legacy -- they know I care about them as individuals and they know me. That's intimacy, even in a business setting.

Draw Outside the Lines

Remember the problem where you're asked to connect nine dots with only four straight lines?

This riddle can serve as a metaphor for you as a coach. There is no box in the diagram, but each client's worldview is a box. The only way to solve the nine-dot problem is to go outside the box, in this case by creating four lines that extend past the numbers:

You, too, want to go outside the lines -- to step outside the box of the coaching relationship -- and ask yourself, "Are my responses to clients reinforcing their key personality patterns or helping them break free of those patterns?"

Success-oriented clients, for example, tend to look outside themselves for approval, seeking the metaphorical "trophy" for achieving their goals. In follow-up meetings they will typically report how well they've carried out their assignments, enacting their key underlying pattern by trying to be the best coaching client. Will you reinforce that behavior by applauding what they've done, or will you help them see this habitual pattern, without judgment, as it occurs in the coaching session?

Clients whose key pattern is perfectionism will come to you wanting to "fix" themselves. Will you jump with them to solutions, or will you help them break the superstructure of their perfectionism by teaching them to observe how their perfectionism plays out without trying to change anything? 

This is sophisticated coaching; you are always looking deeper than the obvious, always taking the systemic view, acknowledging that your presence invites the lifelong patterns that now keep your clients stuck. The easy approach is to give them what they ask for. The smarter approach is to give them what they don't know how to ask for, a transpersonal shift in how they view the world.