Showing posts with label metaphor. Show all posts
Showing posts with label metaphor. Show all posts

Monday, April 27, 2020

Right-Brain Rorschach

In a Rorschach Inkblot Test, people are asked to provide meaning for inkblot shapes, which demonstrate how we interpret ambiguous circumstances. Dr. Michael Yapko uses the Rorschach as a metaphor for how we project assumptions onto our life experiences: 

“Life is like an inkblot – an ‘experiential Rorschach,’ so to speak. Life doesn’t have an objective or assigned meaning. We give it meaning by our individual values, beliefs, relationships, careers, hobbies, and other life experiences.”

There’s a poetic form called “erasure” poetry, where you take a page from any book, article, newspaper, etc. and cover up all but the words that appeal to you. Those remaining words create a poem. Not only will any two people come up with different poems from the same text; when you come back later to the same page you may also “see” the text in a completely different way. 


The content on the right is from a page in Out of the Box Coaching with the Enneagram. Here’s my erasure:
parallels
expressing
talents
be
playful,
listen
to your dog
I suspect in my own metaphorical universe the “dog” refers to an instinctual part of me, and while I didn’t know it when I started this post, I’m realizing how uptight I’ve been about an upcoming project, getting into a head space instead of taking a deep breath and listening to my “dog.”

Try it for yourself. Notice what words show up for you when you look at the page; then follow this “Rorschach” to see what your unconscious might be telling you.

And remember, we all operate from a perspective that may or may not be held by others. It’s always good to open ourselves to the differences.
business failed. Mary asked if she could remember a situation where someone regained face. Linette then recalled a story of a young, unwed mother in her grandmother’s village. “She was urged by her family to leave the village in shame, but she refused to.” Mary inquired,  what happened to her?” The answer “She raised her child well and eventually earned an honorable reputation through her good works in the community.”
     A useful story has a structure similar to the client’s sensation, including the underlying problem and an embedded resolution. These elements were present in the above story. The young woman losing face when she became pregnant was analogous to losing face by not being promoted. The woman in the story regained face by choosing to be self-defined. Mary pointed out these parallels. The lessons in Linette’s story helped her set her sights on expressing her own needs and talents.
Creating Room to Play
     The word “metaphor” is from the Greek pherin, “to carry,” and meta, “beyond or “over.” We are carried beyond our worldview by breakthrough experiences; metaphors illuminate the path. When clients shrink from a new perspective, that’s a clue that intellectual understanding has not freed them to move. This is your chance to be spontaneous, playful, inventive – anything that will reach them at a symbolic level. We’ve just written about the power of stories. You can also create openings through the symbolic use of humor, behavior, gifts, or even poetry.
     Use your own imagination and creativity to develop metaphors for each style. Sometimes you can ask clients for a metaphor of how they see themselves and work with it. Don’t worry about getting it just right. The meaning of a metaphor is often individual. Listen to your clients. They’ll give you the metaphors that have meaning for them. An Eight told Clarence, “I’m a junkyard dog.” Clarence stayed within that metaphor: “Who is the dog loyal to? Who cares for him?” Whom does he let pet him? What is he protecting and from whom? In what way is he trapped by what he is protecting?”

 

Thursday, January 25, 2018

Using Metaphors in Change Work

For as long as humans have had speech, story-tellers have been respected for how their tales and poems taught and/or entertained. Harvard Business School guru John Kotter says, "Those in leadership positions who fail to grasp or use the power of stories risk failure for their companies and for themselves."

There's a time-honored tradition in change work to use stories for healing. A healing metaphor can help clients gain the personal resources and enhanced world model they need to handle their problems. Typically, though, as in the general history of storytelling, the coach decides what story or metaphor will have the greatest effect.

I've used a more client-centered approach, for example with a coach who said she always felt "like the new kid on the block" around her colleagues. I entered her metaphor by saying, "OK, I'm here with you. You've just moved in, and you're the new kid. What's that like? What are the other kids doing? How do they treat you? What are some ways you can get them to include you?" After she answered "They want to play with some of my cool toys!" she realized she had "cool toys" in her current repertoire that helped her feel comfortable with more experienced coaches.

I saw even more possibilities for metaphor work, and attended training in Symbolic Modeling with Gina Campbell. Here, instead of the coach determining the direction, open-ended questions preserve the terminology of clients' metaphors with "clean language," questions that follow the client's lead.

The next time one of your clients offers a metaphor, experiment with being completely spontaneous, playful, nonlinear. Forget about structure, forget about tools from your experience that will "help" or "coach" the person. Simply be present, and see where your client's metaphor leads both of you.

Saturday, September 20, 2014

Stories that Change People

"Stories in one form or another convey a message or learning about a particular problem... with the intention of instructing or advising the listener, the story becomes for that person a METAPHOR... [throwing] new light on the character of what is being described." David Gordon, Therapeutic Metaphors
As with Sufi teaching tales and the Zen tradition of Koans, such metaphors are powerful because they act on the unconscious mind.

A few years ago, I coached a grad student I'll call Phil, who wanted to find more productive ways to organize his dissertation and overcome what he felt were negative aspects of his Enneagram Style Four. In our first conversation he seemed surprised by and appreciative of my emphasis on the gifts of Fours, who are often innovative thinkers, able to see things from a fresh perspective, and understandably frustrated when others can't see what they see. 

This was precisely why Phil had been blocked from finishing his dissertation, which relied on approval by two separate and somewhat mutually exclusive academic disciplines, both of which were also quite conservative. Phil was feeling the angst of trying to satisfy the status quo considerations of both departments, which mirrored a dynamic I often see with Fours – they try to explain things from a new slant, only to be frustrated by resistance from people who are still operating in an old paradigm.


I likened the two disciplines to railroad stations. One would only accept blue cars, the other would only accept red cars. "If you believe the blue car can add something, but you want it to be accepted at the red station, you need to paint it red. Once you get the car into the red station, it will be easier to show its blue value."

The same was true, of course, for having a red car accepted at the blue station, and Phil was inspired by this metaphor to create his own way to bridge the intellectual barriers between departments.



Wednesday, September 25, 2013

A Moment's Insight

While in graduate school, I awakened every morning to a large poster on my bedroom wall with the quote on the left. Oliver Wendell Holmes, Jr. was not the well-known poet of "Old Ironsides" and "The Chambered Nautilus" -- that was his father. Holmes Junior was an associate Supreme Court Justice and one of the most cited 20th century American legal scholars. 

True to what may have been his intended meaning, the poster mainly symbolized my many intellectual aha's as a Ph.D. candidate in social psychology.

But there's is a deeper and equally meaningful interpretation of the poster. 

The butterfly, of course, represents an obvious and compelling transformation in its metamorphosis from egg to caterpillar to chrysalis to gorgeous flight. And the word "insight" means grasping the inward or hidden nature of things.

If I were limited to recommending only one skill to coaches, it would be to develop a finely honed intuition. There are many traditional approaches to intuition training, but my path has been a bit unconventional. I've written elsewhere about my insights using Silva methods. Later, inspired by Carl Jung, I began using the I Ching when feeling stuck on how to approach a client situation or consulting project.

For example, because of my work with a toy company's plant manager and his team, his boss (the parent company's VP) invited me to his annual retreat for all plant managers, to review the MBTI from their previous year's retreat and teach them the Enneagram. It is a BIG company. This was a MAJOR opportunity for me. Except for my client and his boss they were all STRANGERS to me. I only had ONE day to cover two complicated systems. Can you put yourself in my place, and feel the pressure to my ego, the anxiety rising?

I couldn't seem to focus on how to design the retreat, and was actually considering backing out. So I got out my I Ching workbook and threw the coins. I do not remember which hexagram resulted; it might have been #13. I was barely aware of it even then, because shifting my focus to invite my intuition freed me from logical attempts to understand, and I "heard" the clear message to quit worrying what they might think of me, and focus on their needs (yes, duh!).

I called the VP and asked for a thumbnail sketch of all the participants, made some educated guesses about their range of Enneagram styles, bought amusing t-shirts as prizes for "best in type" (on the perfectionist's t-shirt two buzzards sit on a branch, one telling the other "Patience my ass, I'm gonna kill somebody!") and created a client-centered design they appreciated and enjoyed.

You could argue that I might have designed an effective workshop using pure logic. Sure. But I was blocked and needed to get out of my head. Since then I've learned to tune in without props. Whenever I hear myself thinking "Yikes, not sure where to go with this..." I take a deep breath, imagine myself completely in tune and connected with my client(s), and picture (da dum) a butterfly.