Contributing to the problem, albeit unknowingly

Imagine that you’re having a disagreement with someone. A third person tries to mediate but you tell her, “Why are you trying to convince me? Go and tell them. I’m not problematic, they are.” Even if you didn’t have anyone to sort the situation in between, you must have thought, “I don’t have a problem, they do.” I remember saying that numerous times, sometimes in my head, sometimes out loud. Most of the time, in our interpersonal relationships, we complain about how the other person isn’t doing enough to understand us and how they make our lives problematic. We make other people villains, to make it seem like we’re the poor ones. Parents occasionally find their children to be troublemakers, and children see their parents as villains. Friends complain about their fellows not caring about them. Partners find each other to be unloving. Leaders think their employees are only bothered about themselves, and employees consider that all their leaders care about is their company’s bottom line and not them. There is a pattern. Never once does it occur to us that we could be the ones contributing to the same problems we complain about. This phenomenon is called ‘the blindness paradox’ or ‘self-deception.’ Self-deception is the problem of not knowing that we have a problem. I’m sure we’ve heard the cliche, “It takes two for a tango.” How does it ring true to this discussion? Conflicts, miscommunication, misunderstanding, and low trust are common problems in our interpersonal relationships due to which we go on to blame or point fingers at others. But these problems don’t occur in isolation. It takes at least two people to engage in these sorts of issues. But, while we so easily blame, judge, or criticize other people, we don’t consider how our actions could invite what we don’t appreciate from others. How can this create problems for us? As long as we keep thinking the problem is with the other person, we are likely to propose solutions that aren’t inclusive and sustainable. Let’s take the case of the eager supervisor who is passionate about his work and occasionally shares new ideas with his colleagues. His colleagues enjoy their roles but can’t catch up to their supervisor’s enthusiasm. Even if they want to contribute to the team and the common goals, they often don’t have space to share their thoughts. Without addressing this possibility, the supervisor thinks his colleagues are probably not keen on doing their best or don’t care about the work as much as he does. What might follow? Even if the supervisor changes his behavior to invite more active participation and perspectives from his colleagues, it won’t be enough for the supervisor. Why? The reason is that the problem never was that the colleagues didn’t have ideas to share or didn’t look to do their best. The supervisor’s mindset was primarily self-focused. It was, in fact, the supervisor who didn’t allow others the space to chime in, as he was keen to share his own. The supervisor will always have problems with his colleagues because others will remain inadequate and incompetent in his eyes (when they can’t match his level of enthusiasm). Hence, there are chances that even if he has new people joining in, he would question them the same after some time. It might not occur to him that he could also be the one contributing to the problem he often complains about. Self-deception is why we start operating with a self-focused mindset. The underlying thought of a self-focused mindset is ‘I don’t have a problem; the others do’. Driven by this thought process, we start seeing other people as objects, vehicles to further our goals, irrelevancies to ignore, and obstacles to overcome. We don’t see other people as people—people with similar (if not the same) needs, objectives, and challenges. Had the eager supervisor taken a step back to reflect on his actions, he might have realized how he contributed to the same problem, which frustrated him. This is just an example and, in no way, a generalization of how supervisors are. There’s a great possibility that this write-up is about you. But here’s the catch: it’s about everyone reading this. It’s about me who’s writing this. So, whenever you complain, ask yourself—am I complaining to help, or am I complaining to justify why someone is undeserving, wrong, or irrelevant? If your answer leans toward the latter, you’re most probably self-deceived. Why does identifying and understanding this matter? It matters because self-deception makes us ignorant at the least and delusional at the worst. When we become self-deceived, all we can see are problems with others while remaining oblivious to the impact of our actions on them. When we deceive ourselves, we stop seeing the world around us as it is. Our world then consists only of ourselves and the things that concern us. In this world, others are merely objects—that either help us, hurt or, or aren’t relevant to us. So, the solutions we propose to resolve situations may seem convenient for ourselves but not for others and can create more problems in our interpersonal relationships. The author is the Linchpin at My Emotions Matter, an education initiative that helps individuals and teams learn the mindset and skills of Emotional Intelligence. You can learn more at myemotionsmatter.com

Are we really sorry?

During one of the team discussions, a colleague asked, “What behaviors do you tolerate in your close ones but can’t stand in the case of others?” I responded that I couldn’t take it when someone said ‘sorry’ and yet they kept repeating the same behavior for which they’re apologetic. Another colleague was intrigued by my response, and he asked, “Do you think saying sorry is driven by behavior change or mindset change?” I have been thinking about the question ever since. When we say sorry, do we mean it? Let’s look into it with my example. I used to have a problem managing my time. I still do in some aspects. But not until very long ago, I got to places late by 10-15 minutes at the least. I apologized duly, but guess what? I reached late again the next time. I knew I needed to work toward managing my time better, but I couldn’t take concrete actions to change my ways. What came naturally to me was feeling guilty and apologizing for being late. Yet, now I’m convinced that all the while I was saying sorry and getting late again the next time, I didn’t feel sorry at all. I felt justified in my being late for one reason or another, which is far from a mindset change. I have also seen people in my family and friend circle saying hurtful things in anger and apologizing later. A few days later, I found them doing the same thing again. If we feel justified in hurting someone again after apologizing for the same behavior a few days ago, did we ever mean to apologize? Worse, we start thinking of ways to correct the other person—at that moment or immediately after apologizing to them. Why does this happen? It happens because of our self-deception (a problem of not knowing that we have a problem or that we could be contributing to the same problem we’re so blatantly complaining about). Recall a wearisome situation with your partner when you both argued. Maybe you felt torn about whether you should risk making things worse by venting your frustrations or saying sorry and ending the problem right there. Let’s go with the latter option. You said sorry. Does that guarantee you might not have had thoughts like ‘Why should I say sorry?’ ‘They think they’re better than me?!’ ‘Sorry, my foot!’ ‘The next time, I’m going to make them say sorry to me.’ Think of the time you apologized to a colleague, a parent, a child, or a friend, are you sure you never had those thoughts with these people as well? We often think that saying sorry can help solve problems, even if we don’t genuinely mean it. But let’s be honest with ourselves and try to understand where we’re going wrong. When we apologize from a place of insincerity and lack of empathy, others can sense this. Even if our behaviors change, people can determine that our mindset is the same. The reason is that the underlying ‘mindset’ drives our behaviors on the outside. We might deceive ourselves and others once, twice, or thrice, but sooner or later, it would be out in the open that we never entirely meant what we were showing. Believe me, there’s nothing more hurtful than this in any relationship. But why does this happen again? Of course, it boils down to being self-deceptive, and another layer of self-deception is that we start operating with a self-focused mindset. With a ‘self-focused mindset,’ we treat people around us as objects. We see them as lifeless creatures who don’t have their own needs, objectives, and challenges. We consider them as vehicles to further our goals, obstacles to overcome, and irrelevancies to ignore. With a self-focused mindset, everything we do tends to be about us. Would we enjoy it when someone treats us in either of these ways? Why is it then that we believe someone else would enjoy us treating them in such ways? We humans dutifully believe that behavior change can change situations for the better. It’s generally the underlying philosophy of management training, education (sadly enough), parenting, and even the institution of marriage. In these (and more) areas of life, we follow guidelines to understand ‘what to do’ and ‘what not to do’ even though the underlying mindset may be self-focused. We don’t keep a check on what we’re becoming while polishing our behavior. Borrowing an idea from the same colleague who asked me about the behaviors I can’t tolerate in others, behavior change is analogous to cutting the grass that isn’t growing well from its edge while the problem is in the roots (where the mindset lies). The antidote to this behavior change is questioning our underlying ‘mindset.’ Is it that we’re operating with a self-focused mindset? If so, what can help us? An impact-focused mindset that enables us to see that people around us have lives like us; they’re not objects. They also have needs, objectives, and challenges that are as important to them as our own needs, objectives, and challenges are important to us. An impact-focused mindset is what makes us human. It helps us foster connections, be grateful for all we have, and apologize when we truly mean it for wronging something or someone. The next time we think we’ve wronged someone and want to make amends for the same, let’s first check our intention. Why is it that we want to apologize? Do we want to say sorry (one more time) so that we can find a quick fix? Or, do we care enough to understand how our behaviors impact others and want to assure the other person that we will take steps toward changing ourselves? This simple step should let us know whether we mean an apology from a self-focused or an impact-focused mindset. If the former mindset is at play, apologizing is pointless because we don’t mean it. The author is the linchpin at My Emotions Matter, an education initiative that helps individuals and teams learn the mindset and skills of Emotional Intelligence. You can learn more at myemotionsmatter.com

Looking at the bigger picture: Are we missing this in our work?

‘I hate my work.’ ‘The top management doesn’t get us at all.’ ‘My boss doesn’t understand how challenging my role is.’ ‘Only if I had more resources, I would be the best at what I do.’ ‘It’s easy for the top management to direct our to-do’s; we’re the ones who have to execute.’ I often hear these expressions which some of you might resonate with. For someone who considers work a meaningful outlet, I’m always thrown into a pool of thoughts when I hear such concerns, often bewildered. People say such things because of dissatisfactions, frustrations, unmet needs, and misalignment, which might be hard to sail past after a point. For those trying to find what gives them meaning and purpose professionally, it can be even harder to navigate such instances calmly and practically. Let’s pause here and think—are such expressions an outcome of a self-focused mindset toward the work, the culture, and the people at work? There is nothing wrong with thinking for oneself. But, with a self-focused mindset, we see other people not as people but as objects—as obstacles to overcome, as vehicles to further our goals and needs, or as irrelevancies to ignore. We are concerned about how things do or don’t align with our objectives and needs. We seldom care about the one thing we should be worried about the most—the result or outcome. Inward mindset toward our work One of my friends abroad has been working in human resource management. The nature of her job is challenging. Although my friend is passionate about what she does, there was a time when she couldn’t help but complain about the culture and people at work. I knew her to be an individual upfront about her feelings and thoughts but she just caved into office politics. She gossiped about the upper management and the board with her colleagues constantly. The situation was conducive to escalated conflicts and a persistently negative workplace culture. My friend, in due time, realized that she was operating from a self-focused mindset toward her work and the management team. A conversation is what helped my friend reflect. During a one-on-one conversation with a relatively new join, instead of asking him what was going well or what was challenging for him in the workplace, she started advising him on how to survive their negative work culture. She told him that the top management didn’t care how the people were doing below them and how everyone looked out for themselves. What happened next was what changed my friend for the better. After hearing her criticize and complain for almost half an hour, the new join asked, “Do you care how the people in your organization do? Why are you not doing anything about this?” To this day, my friend recalls being enraged after hearing that question. She immediately defended herself and admitted to caring the most about the people at work. It took her a month to realize that her actions expressed the opposite of what she told the new join. Consequences for organizations because of an inward mindset From the discussion so far, you must have realized what happens when an individual or groups of individuals become self-focused. With such a mindset, we don’t see what others need. We only care about what we need. Interestingly, the people around us—our colleagues, subordinates, and upper management can see this. We might not communicate our mindset outright, but people can sense it. It’s because the mindset we have drives our behavior. It is congruent with what Maya Angelou said, “I’ve learned that people will forget what you said, people will forget what you did, but people will never forget how you made them feel.” Our behavior may be good on the outside, but if our mindset is self-focused, people can sense it because we eventually communicate blame, judgment, and criticism to them. With a self-focused mindset, other people don’t matter. What matters is our own needs, goals, and objectives. We become victims of our own thoughts and feelings. We blame others for our frustrations or failures. We become unhelpful to others even when we can help them. It promotes vengeance and contempt rather than empathic cooperation. ‘If they don’t help me, why should I?’ ‘If they don’t care about me, why should I?’ What is worse, when we operate with a self-focused mindset, we look for reasons to justify our behavior. We do this by inflating our virtues and people’s faults (or deflating their virtues). A self-focused mindset is like a box inside which we can’t see things clearly. When people in an organization become highly self-focused, team cohesion suffers, and the concept of team ceases to exist. Departments try to protect their resources—at the expense of organizational interests. Employees blame one another for their inability to solve problems. All this finally leads to what no organization desires—poor results. Incongruence between employees and leaders: Outward mindset is a way out When people in an organization work together, there are likely to be disagreements, arguments, or even misalignments of goals. It’s normal because different individuals have different notions, belief systems, values, and goals, so everyone may not always be on the same page. But, by focusing on such differences and alienating ourselves, we give reasons to other people not to listen to or cooperate with us. To embrace such differences and encourage cooperation, we need an impact-focused mindset, also what we call an emotionally intelligent mindset. The employees should try to see that the upper management team consists of ‘people’ too. They have their strengths and weaknesses. As much as management might try to empathize with each employee’s needs, it’s hard to please everyone. If we think about it, people often see leaders are uncaring. But they, in fact, have so much more to care and worry about than we think. They are ‘people’ trying to drive everyone toward the bigger picture—the collective results of the organization. And, while they’re at it, they have their own challenges to overcome, mistakes to rectify, and accusations to bear. Therefore, employees might need to consider the implications of self-focused and how it impacts the managerial team. An organization will be down in the dooms if all these factors drive the leaders to become self-focused too. Hence, leaders must understand the cost of the self-focused mindset that an organization and its people eventually have to pay if it persists. They must be able to assess how self-focused they are or their organization is before they can become impact-focused themselves and drive employees to operate with such a mindset too. Leaders can perhaps periodically remind themselves that they need to mobilize themselves and their teams around collective goals. An organization can, in no way, achieve that if everyone aboard has a self-focused mindset. Eventually, irrespective of whether we are employees or leaders, we should understand that an outward mindset is for our own benefit and growth. Rather than waiting for others to change, we need to reframe our mindset. Every person in an organization contributes to making it the way it is. So, it’s crucial to consider whether we’re contributing to improving things in an organization. If we wait for others to initiate this awareness and change their mindset, there are chances that the change may never take place. Just like the box of a self-focused mindset invites others to be in the box, when we operate from an impact-focused mindset, others get influenced to come on board too. It’s on us to decide what we want to invite. The author is the Linchpin at My Emotions Matter, an education initiative that helps individuals and teams learn the mindset and skills of Emotional Intelligence. You can learn more at myemotionsmatter.com

Applying the influence pyramid

The 13th-century Persian poet and mystic Rumi once said, “Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and right-doing, there is a field. I’ll meet you there.” I find this saying both simple and complicated. It’s simple in the sense that if we are to cultivate meaningful and compassionate relationships, we inevitably need to be able to see beyond who is wrong and who is right. We need to connect with each other’s needs and feelings, but we fail to do this at times, and that is what makes the idea of outdoing right and wrong complicated in our relationships. Does this mean there is no way out? Let’s explore. The challenge Riya (name changed) got appointed at an organization to head the sales and marketing team. She efficiently navigated her day-to-day tasks, as did most of her colleagues. Riya had one colleague in the team Bidhi (name changed), who was good at her work, but she rushed to complete most of her tasks only toward the end of the week. Even though she met her deadlines, her work pattern sometimes creates bottlenecks for Riya and other team members. Riya tried communicating her concerns with Bidhi. She suggested ways that Bidhi could use to pace her work better. Riya asked Bidhi to correct her actions for the team to fare better, but Bidhi got defensive and said, “The previous supervisor never had a problem.” The solution The conversation between Riya and Bidhi becomes difficult despite good intentions. Eventually, both Riya and Bidhi sense that it will be tough to work together. Riya thinks Bidhi is self-centered, and Bidhi thinks Riya only focuses on appearing all-knowing because she is the supervisor. As days passed, Bidhi continued with her old patterns. When her colleagues intervened, she argued that they were trying to impress the new supervisor. Riya realized that her effort to ensure efficiency in the team had backfired. It then occurred to her that she didn’t approach Bidhi from an impact-focused Mindset, and perhaps it contributed more to the problem. Riya recalled learning about The Influence Pyramid from one of her mentors in the previous organization. She thinks now may be the right time to apply it. The Influence Pyramid developed by the Arbinger Institute shows us different steps to apply an Impact-focused Mindset. The pyramid comprises two sections: dealing with things going wrong and helping things go right. The pyramid consists of various courses of action in these two sections as follows: Correct: It’s the only step the section ‘dealing with things going wrong’ comprises. It’s what Riya tried to do with Bidhi. There is nothing wrong with correcting. Sometimes it’s enough to deal with minor issues that don’t require much effort, but it may backfire if people feel threatened by correction, which Bidhi might have experienced. She had a pattern of working that she was comfortable with. Nobody else had a problem with it until Riya asked her to change her ways. Teach and communicate: Riya realized she wanted to contribute to ‘helping things go right’ instead, which is what the pyramid invites us to do if the correction doesn’t suffice. Riya knew she had to help Bidhi understand how the team would benefit if everyone considered the impact of their work on others. Hence, Riya approached her to discuss what she envisions for the team, for which she would need cooperation from Bidhi. Listen and learn: Riya took a step forward from correcting to teaching and communicating with Bidhi, but the team could still sense some defensiveness from Bidhi. Riya then decided to hold space for Bidhi to listen to her and learn about her role, challenges, and what she enjoys at work. Bidhi didn’t cave in but eventually sensed that Riya cared for her and the team. She shared with Riya how she likes to work autonomously and under pressure because it helps her contribute well. But Bidhi also acknowledges that her preference might have created bottlenecks for others. Bidhi eventually decides to prioritize tasks that require input from others toward the beginning of the week and only then work on things she can do individually. Build the relationship: Riya knew she was responsible for helping Bidhi grow and learn. So, she had to continually make efforts toward building a good relationship with Bidhi. Riya checked in with Bidhi to know what she enjoys working on and where she needs support. Riya also shared her experiences with Bidhi to form a humanizing connection with her. She would sense that Bidhi sometimes thought all those efforts were just for better team results, but Riya didn’t let that get in her way. Riya knew that the team needed cohesion to grow together; that would not be possible until even one member felt left out. Hence, despite occasional resistance from Bidhi, she carried on. Build relationships with others who have influence: After learning about Bidhi’s role, challenges, and what gave her meaning, Riya connected with Bidhi’s immediate colleagues. She tried to understand how Bidhi’s actions impacted them and vice versa. It helped Riya identify how Bidhi and her close colleagues could support each other. Riya offered help to bridge any gaps that existed. Get out of the box/Obtain a heart at peace: Everything Riya tried—from correcting to teaching and communicating to listening and learning to building a relationship with Bidhi to building relationships with people who influence Bidhi are behaviors. They could come from either a Self-Focused or a People-Inclusive/Impact-focused Mindset. Hence, the base of the pyramid is about mindset-check. Even if any of the behaviors work, it’s still crucial that we work on developing a People-Inclusive/Impact-focused Mindset. The result Riya’s effort toward applying a People-Inclusive/Impact-focused Mindset and Bidhi’s eventual support helped them work well together. It eventually led to a culture of understanding and cooperation in the team. They faced challenges when the members got self-focused but made efforts to work their way out. Riya and Bidhi helped their colleagues learn and live the different steps of ‘The Influence Pyramid’ to enable an Impact-focused team. ‘The Influence Pyramid’ isn’t just a hack or a tool to help fix our mindset. It’s a logical sequence of actions we can resort to for creating team cohesion. There are some lessons to ‘The Influence Pyramid’ that can help us further:

  •   We need to make more efforts to ‘help things go right’ (i.e., at levels of the pyramid below correction) rather than ‘dealing with things going wrong.’
  •   If one level of the pyramid isn’t helping solve our problem, the level below can help us. For example, if correcting is not working, we might want to teach and communicate. If that isn’t working out, we perhaps need to listen and learn.
  •   The effort at each level of the pyramid will only be effective if we are effective at the base, i.e., developing an Impact-focused Mindset.
The author is the linchpin at My Emotions Matter, an education initiative that helps individuals and teams learn the mindset and skills of Emotional Intelligence. You can learn more at myemotionsmatter.com  

Goals, meaning, and purpose

The KCG-123 model of Emotional Intelligence developed by the Six Seconds Network is a go-to framework I refer to when practicing Emotional Intelligence in my daily life. The framework consists of three main themes that the acronym stands for—Know Yourself, Choose Yourself, and Give Yourself. The first component, Know Yourself, is about knowing our strengths and challenges in our daily situations, what we are doing, what we want, and might want to change. The second component, Choose Yourself, is about seeing a range of choices available to us in any given situation (instead of being myopic and stuck to just one option we can see). It’s about choosing to respond rather than react. Hence, Choose Yourself helps us sift through factors like how we want to take action in a given context and, at the same time, how we influence ourselves and others. Give Yourself is the third component of the model, which helps us connect our daily choices with our long-term vision of who we wish to be as individuals. Let’s consider that we want to be someone who cares for the environment. However, we use plastic bags daily, leave the tap running while brushing our teeth in the morning, take longer showers, and use non-degradable products. By making such daily choices, are we giving ourselves what we envision becoming in the long run? Practicing the component Give Yourself as a person who wants to care for the environment would mean we would use cloth bags instead of plastic ones, use water mindfully, and choose biodegradable or eco-friendly products. It would also include not judging people who cannot readily switch to making eco-friendly choices because of their reasons as it also means empathizing with the purpose of people around us and their long-term vision. We might want others to follow our lead and live more eco-friendly lifestyles. But Give Yourself also means refraining from being a person who isn’t willing to understand the choices of people and their reasons for doing what they do. Give Yourself helps us grow into individuals who can listen, empathize, and inspire others to make better choices. As an Emotional Intelligence Practitioner, I consider all three components Know Yourself, Choose Yourself and Give Yourself, equally important, as each informs and guides the others. However, having ‘Give Yourself’ in mind helps me take action at present, which will add value to the person I want to become in the long run while enabling me to understand the long-term vision of the people around me too. To understand and practice the component ‘Give Yourself,’ having clarity about three concepts—goals, meaning, and purpose—can be helpful. Goals are what we either do or wish to do in the days ahead. They include what we want to achieve in the short-term or long-term future. We create goals to become better versions of ourselves in one or more areas of life, like health, time management, academic performance, life relationships, or professional development. Goals are specific, measurable, and attainable as well. An example of a ‘goal’ can be to become physically fit, which might require us to exercise every day for 30 minutes, eat home-cooked food three times a day, and sleep eight hours every night. Meaning is the reason behind our goals. It explains why we do what we do and why our ‘goals’ hold importance for us. The meaning we give our goals motivates us to continue making choices that can help us achieve our goals and shape us into the individuals we want to be. So, let’s say our goal is to become physically fit, ‘meaning’ can help us figure out ‘why’ we want to become so. Maybe we want to build strong immunity, feel confident through physical fitness, become active, fight a medical condition, or lead a healthy lifestyle. Purpose is the impact we wish to have on the people and world around us. Purpose means the bigger picture we have in mind when making our day-to-day choices and connecting with the people in our lives. When we are purposeful, we constantly remind ourselves to keep doing what we do and connect with people who could benefit from our help and vice versa. What can be the purpose if our goal is to become physically fit? Maybe it’s to contribute to a world where people care about maintaining physical health and leading healthy lifestyles. While goals are more actionable, meaning and purpose guide us in terms of our thought processes. We often want to achieve a goal, but we don’t know why (we can’t figure out the meaning it has for us) and the impact we wish to have in the world (the purpose of our actions and choices). If we don’t think through the meaning and purpose of our daily choices, goals can’t be sustainable. Goals, meaning, and purpose also create a cyclic process. Our purpose guides us in creating life goals. Our goals further help us become better versions of ourselves in life areas that are meaningful to us. Together goals, meaning, and purpose can help us put our long-term vision into daily actionable choices. The author is the linchpin at My Emotions Matter, an education initiative that helps individuals and teams learn the mindset and skills of Emotional Intelligence. You can learn more at myemotionsmatter.com

The anger epidemic

Anger—an unpleasant emotion that has to be the most misunderstood and mismanaged one. People I meet often tell me, “Everything else is okay with me, but I can’t seem to manage my emotions.” “If only I could manage my anger, most of my life problems would disappear.” “I can work on my anger at the workplace, but my family members often bear the brunt of my unpleasantness at home.” While many strategies can help manage anger, they tend not to work or don’t have a lasting impact. The primary reason for this plight is that we don’t understand anger in the first place. There are many misconceptions and taboos associated with this emotion. The first misconception about anger is that we see it as a gendered emotion—associated mostly with males. Titles like ‘angry young man’ try to validate such false myths. The other misconception often associated with anger is that it’s a ‘bad’ emotion. Another school of thought when we speak of anger is that people around us or situations are the causes of it. The truth is that anger is an emotion that anyone and everyone can experience. It can never be a gendered emotion because, like any other unpleasant emotion, it indicates that the person (who is angry) is experiencing one or more unmet needs. In this sense, anger is a universal emotion since needs are universal and not just associated with one gender. But, if we go back to the premise that feelings emerge from our needs, we will understand that anger is not a ‘bad’ emotion either. Yes, perhaps we might react in healthy or unhealthy ways, but it doesn’t make anger the villain necessarily. For example, if I feel angry about someone not following up on a promise they made to me, perhaps my need for accountability or trust is unfulfilled. Hence, my anger, like any other unpleasant emotion I might experience, doesn’t emerge from other people’s actions or words. Yes, people’s actions or words might affect me to some degree, but what causes me to be angry are one or more of my underlying needs. We lack such insights about anger because when we experience that emotion, we tend to become overpowered by it and react. It becomes difficult to pause or process anger as we tend to get more cynical during such times. We tend to see other people’s actions as selfish or self-indulgent and start thinking of all possible reasons to condemn them. We become very rigid and vigilant about our beliefs at all costs. It becomes almost impossible for anyone to convince us of possibilities other than what we see or want to see. Understanding this is important so that when we’re angry, we can pause and differentiate between reality and what we interpret as truth. While anger indicates one or more unpleasant needs when we experience that emotion, it also serves a fundamental function. The function of anger is to help us fight against a problem. It is why when we’re angry, we start functioning from a fight mode (instead of the flight or freeze modes of nervous system activation). Feeling anger is a sign that we see something problematic in a situation and therefore want to find solutions to that problem. If we don’t understand this function of anger, we might misdirect our actions to cause more problems for ourselves. Let’s suppose I feel angry at my friend for showing up late to the decided personal meetings. For me, my needs for punctuality, respect, or order aren’t getting fulfilled. I find it problematic that my friend doesn’t honor the agreed-upon time. If I don’t understand the problem (for me) in my friend showing up late, I might blame, complain to, or judge my friend for making things difficult for me. I might either come across as very strong or ignore my friend. If I, on the other hand, understand that a lack of respect for mutually agreed upon timings or punctuality bothers me, then I will make it a point to communicate this to my friend. If my friend doesn’t understand this in one go, I might even share my concerns assertively. Such solutions will perhaps be more effective because instead of blindly reacting, blaming, complaining, and judging, I would act after understanding what the problem is for me, which is what anger helps us shed light on. Most of the time, because we feel uncomfortable or in pain when dealing with anger, we view anger as a ‘bad’ emotion, for which we desperately try to find ways to manage or control our behavior or actions. Anger is a rather valuable emotion if we care to dig deeper. The next time you feel angry, instead of suppressing it (numbing it out) or acting it out, pause and ask yourself, “What am I finding problematic here?” You might not arrive at the best solutions right away, but once you have better clarity about the problem, you’ll have better clarity about ways to help you deal with it. The author is the linchpin at My Emotions Matter, an education initiative that helps individuals and teams learn the mindset and skills of Emotional Intelligence. You can learn more at myemotionsmatter.com

The intricacies of self-compassion

Author Brené Brown writes in her book ‘Rising Strong’, “Owning our story and loving ourselves through that process is the bravest thing we’ll ever do.” I read this a couple of years ago, and it has resonated with me ever since. As someone who has put effort into working on my relationship with myself, it has not been an easy journey. Growing up, I never learned or was taught how to hold space for myself. As an adolescent and a young adult, I struggled to be at peace with myself. I would critically question myself when my ideas got disapproved. Whenever I made mistakes, I would play with thoughts like—I’m incompetent. I will never know how to make good choices. How could I do this?’ What people thought of me mattered more than what I thought about myself. While I sought kind words, reassurance, and empathy from the others, I stood last in line to approach myself with those. I suppose our educational and societal constructs lead us to form such self-sabotaging beliefs and conduct, consciously or unconsciously. Back in school, my math teacher told me I wasn’t smart enough to score well in the subject. If I had questions to ask in the classroom, some teachers perceived it as a waste of time. I can recall similar instances at home. I always feared making mistakes as a child because of the potential scolding. Even when I fell and hurt myself, I got scolded for being careless and clumsy. So, I started holding back from sharing my concerns, asking questions that mattered, and being vocal about my needs. I only realized how unhealthy living this way was a few years ago. During the second wave of Covid-19, I came to terms with the fact that I was very critical of myself. The same year, I even came to terms with a looming mental health condition, which I discovered while taking a course on cognitive behavioral therapy. Although I had the support of the people I loved during this time, I realized my lack of support for myself all along was anything but helpful. Instead of going down the spiral of negative thoughts, feelings, and actions each time something inconvenient happened, I tried everything I could to get things back on track and be more supportive of myself. So often we rely on others to validate our existence, for some kind words, or to make us feel pleasant. But if these don’t come from ourselves first, what others say will not matter for a long time. If we aren’t good friends with ourselves, there are chances that we will eventually burden our close ones by seeking constant reassurance that we are worthy of love, respect, and care. We can’t just rely on self-compassion because we require support, love, and care from family members, friends, or romantic partners. But imagine feeling inadequate, hollow, and harsh toward yourself whenever the people you love aren’t around to approve of you or when they turn down your ideas. That is what a lack of self-compassion can appear to be. Reflecting on my journey, I have learned that self-compassion doesn’t necessarily have to be anything grand. It doesn’t mean spending resources on ourselves to give ourselves a temporary feel-good moment. Self-compassion means identifying and understanding our emotions. It means recognizing our needs and choosing strategies that work best for us to fulfill them. It means encouraging ourselves to grow and giving a pat on our back for the tiniest achievements (aligned with the kind of person we want to be). It means letting go of what isn’t in our control and being accountable for impacting the people around us and ourselves positively. It means forgiving ourselves when we falter while also doing the needful to grow into better versions of ourselves. And, unlike how we might interpret self-compassion, it’s far from a selfish act or self-indulgent practice. A friend introduced me to a concept she had heard somewhere, “You cannot pour from an empty cup. Take care of yourself first.” This quote expresses the idea of self-compassion for me in a nutshell. Unless we can think about ourselves, understand our feelings, and cater to our needs, trying to fend for the needs of the people around us will always empty us and make us resentful. However, what almost always helps me put things into perspective when it comes to self-compassion and compassion towards people and beings around us is a quote by Naval Ravikant, “Think for yourself, not of yourself. Think of others, not for others.” While we can interpret this saying in many ways, it reminds me that I’m only responsible for working on myself while assuring that my actions and thoughts positively impact the people I value. The author is the linchpin at My Emotions Matter, an education initiative that helps individuals and teams learn the mindset and skills of Emotional Intelligence. You can learn more at myemotionsmatter.com

The responsibility to work on our fears

“I want to approach new people and talk to them, but I just can’t muster the courage.” “I want to say ‘no’, but what if people stop liking me after that?” “I am scared my family won’t take it well if I share my opinion.” “I want to have a difficult conversation with my partner about something that bothers me, but I feel terrified of my partner’s reactions. What if they break up with me?” “I want to learn and understand things well, but I’m afraid of asking questions in the class/session.” I come to hear such thoughts during or after my sessions, often followed by a common request, “Please help me overcome my fear.” We hear quotes or one-liners about how our fear holds us back, and we need to work on overcoming them or becoming ‘fearless’. We might think we would be better off only if we didn’t feel scared, but we’re missing some crucial information here. Like all other emotions, fear serves an important function. It signals that we’re trying to protect ourselves from a potential threat or danger. Let’s put this into perspective. When we hold ourselves back from approaching new people, we might be trying to protect ourselves from judgment or the unpredictability of how that conversation might evolve. When we can’t say no, we try to protect ourselves from being disliked. When we want to express a difference of opinion in the family but can’t seem to do so, we’re perhaps trying to protect the peace at home. When we can’t bring up a difficult conversation with our partner, we might be trying to protect ourselves from being misunderstood, ‘the bad person’, vulnerable, and, in the worst cases, alone (if it disrupts the relationship). When we can’t summon the courage to ask questions in class, we might be trying to protect ourselves from being perceived as naive. Regardless of what we feel scared of, it’s not the fear that’s the problem, but the patterns we get preoccupied with due to the fear. When we feel fearful, we start thinking about the potential downsides of every situation that work up our nerves. We exaggerate the chances of failing to such a great extent that we don’t consider succeeding a real possibility. We even bring up every possible excuse to hesitate instead of acting on the situation and doing something about it. So, what is it that we can learn from fear? Is it inaction? If our fear asks us to protect ourselves from danger, should we do nothing about it? Is that a potential solution? The answer is no. Fear calls for caution, not inaction. It asks us to take responsibility for what matters to us, despite the fear. So, the first step, in this sense, becomes acknowledging that we’re afraid, scared, or even petrified of or to do something. For example, say I feel apprehensive (low intensity of fear) to face a crowd I’m supposed to facilitate a session for (which I sometimes do). So, I acknowledge the apprehension without trying to suppress it. Since fear serves the function of protection from danger, I might be trying to protect myself from participants’ skepticism or being irrelevant (as a facilitator). It then helps to understand that if we fear, it means we care. It’s no cliche or an antidote against fear, but a lens that helps us gauge the fear better and work toward it. That apprehension is a helpful message. I feel apprehensive because I care to do well and positively impact the people who choose to spend their time and energy with me in that learning space over other things they could be doing. So, if I care, what should I be doing? And this is the hard part, which we shy away from—taking responsibility to work on the fear (or work our way through it). In my case, say if I feel fearful as a facilitator, the solution is not to quit taking sessions. That would be far from being helpful. On the other hand, it would not even help to fake that I’m not apprehensive. It doesn’t mean I need to announce my deeper feelings to everyone, but running away from fear often can make things worse. Instead of helping me prepare to deal with it, I will be more prone to finding excuses not to change if I don’t acknowledge that my fear exists. After acknowledging the fear, we need to find out small ways or actions that would be helpful. For example, if I feel apprehensive before facilitating a session for a crowd because I fear being irrelevant or facing skepticism, I might want to put effort into preparing well. It might involve going through relevant reading materials, preparing slides in a way that interests the audience, anticipating questions that participants might ask, listening to some peppy music before the session, reading older feedback notes from the participants, and even joking about the last time I felt apprehensive (but the session went pretty well). There’s always a risk associated with taking action, things might not work out like we want. The catch is that we won't know what works unless we act. My working principle when facing my fears is, “You fear because you care, and you can work your way through if you dare.” The author is the linchpin at My Emotions Matter, an education initiative that helps individuals and teams learn the mindset and skills of Emotional Intelligence. You can learn more at myemotionsmatter.com