In AWE of the Process

There are many "how-to" books on leadership, management, and coaching, lists of all kinds for the 10 principles of this or that. I've done the same and published a variety of steps for specific aspects of behavioral change. 

But what about the bigger picture, the nature of change itself? I've written elsewhere about first- and second-order change, how coaches who address only conscious goals and overt behavior can unwittingly reinforce the worldview a client brings to the table and subvert the intended change.

Einstein once said, "Problems cannot be solved by thinking within the framework in which the problems were created." Our task is to help clients see how their worldviews operate and how to break free of the patterns those worldviews create. The question of "how" is elemental. Asking "why" can lead down many paths and take months or years to answer, possibly never satisfactorily. Discovering with your clients how they enact their patterns will illuminate where to intervene and promote significant change.

I've provided a frame of reference for my clients with the acronym "A.W.E."

1. Awareness of their unique patterns of motivation and behavior. This can be discovered in ordinary conversation; with models such as the Enneagram, Tilt365, DISC, MBTI; or feedback from others who know or work with you.  
2. Watching how those patterns operate. Your clients learn to hold full awareness in the present, notice their flow of thoughts, and accept their experiences without judgment or attempts to control.
3. Experimenting with pattern breaking so their choices are free, energizing, and fulfilling. Even a small, symbolic change can shake up someone's worldview so much the old way of thinking no longer computes. Keep these points in mind when you co-create fieldwork to break old patterns with new responses:

• Understand the client's worldview deeply.
• Make sure there's a mutually agreed-upon definition of the desired change.
• Collaboratively design tasks that will reframe the client's view of the problem.
• Once any part of a pattern is shaken up, look for spontaneous changes from your clients.

Same Music, Different Beat

In an Erickson Foundation newsletter article, Jeff Zeig described learning to play the tin whistle (the Irish Penny Whistle) after a lifetime of not playing a musical instrument. 
 

"This practice has been highly instructive to me and has changed my teaching style. To experience the ways a simple tune can be embellished has altered the way I understand hypnosis. Music and hypnosis have structural similarities since both are based in changing people's perspectives, states, and emotions, particularly through using innuendo."

Years ago I took tennis lessons one summer, working particularly on my backhand. A few months later I played nine holes of golf with my boss at a golf retreat in Florida where we were facilitating a leadership workshop. As we approached the first tee I joked that I'd see him at the putting green, because I tended to slice the ball and I'd be off in the rough to the right. After I'd made a couple of straight drives he said, "I thought you told me you sliced the ball." I was surprised, but didn't make a connection to the tennis lessons until I played ping-pong with friends a few weeks later and realized my game there had improved, as well.

Transfer of learning is an important concept for coaches because we only have our clients' attention for a snapshot of time before they go out into the world to either keep doing what they've always done or do something different. So their generalizations to everyday life depend on the parallels we help them draw or embed in the coaching experience itself.

The parallels can be direct, as when clients agree to practice on their own something you've experimented with together and to report back how well it works in a variety of settings. A more subtle learning transfer occurs within the nature of the coaching relationship. Several of my clients, when asked to use one word to describe their vision for 2012, have come up with words like "fun," "play," "flow," and "creativity." I see this as my call to make sure our sessions are fun, playful, creative, and in the flow.

How will your coaching sessions this year help clients transfer their learnings to everyday life?

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.