I’ve been thinking a lot about difficult conversations, having just given a presentation on the topic this past week. So it is only natural that I should have my own version of a difficult conversation this morning. Unfortunately, I did not measure up to my own ideas of best practice! (Reality is humbling). Here’s the story, in brief:
I got an e-mail from an accountant who asked me to do something I didn’t think I should have to do (although I admit it was related to a responsibility of mine). It made me mad! I did not want one more thing to do! So I fired off e-mails in response. A flurry of e-mails followed, and in the end, the problem was resolved. (I was right after all…not my responsibility…) But I regretted my impulsive and annoyed tone—to say nothing of all the e-mails—so I ended my final e-mails with what I hoped was more graciousness.
Now according to my presentation, I would have been wise to prepare myself before entering into this conversation (e-mail exchanges are one form of conversation, as anyone who has hit the “send” button too rapidly already knows). I would have been wise to examine what feelings and attitudes were being triggered by this accountant’s not-too-outrageous request.
So why didn’t I take a moment? Why didn’t I go through the reflective process I recommend?
I forgot. Plain and simple. I forgot that I was dealing with a hot-button issue, that I had a deep history around this particular topic, that despite wonderful progress in letting go of resentments, I still had fragments of resentments lingering, resentments that became alive as if poked as with an electric rod at the moment I was asked to do this “one more thing.” I went way out of balance.
It is so easy to react strongly, too strongly, and without nuance. It is easy to dip into your own hot mess of emotions that go way back in time and bring up a glob to hurl around in the present. Anger, fear, sadness—most of us have hidden reservoirs of these, not because we are bad or immature people, but because we are people. We are human beings with histories, and histories tell a story. We can advance, learn, grow, change…yet ghosts of our old stories are there if the right moment comes to awaken them.
Even now, writing about this kind of impulsive state, I remember the bubbling emotion, the fast-rising irritation. I know how easy it is–just by imagining–to move toward full-out anger or indignation, which I can then use like a diving board to jettison myself into a conversation I never intended to have.
In next blog post, the reflective process after-the-fact and what I could have done before-the-fact
Questions for Reflection: When are you most likely to respond impulsively and emotionally? What comes to mind when you think about bringing unprocessed emotions into a difficult conversation?
Writing Prompts: “I can easily react impulsively when ______” (then keep writing); “I have had experience with getting my [anger/sadness/resentment] triggered in conversations when ______” (then keep writing); “I get out of balance when I am feeling ______” (then keep writing).







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Twitter: AtticusUncensor
April 9, 2011 at 5:38 pm
Judy, we’ve all been in your position. Well, Atticus points out the he is above such emotionally charged impulsiveness (unless it involves food!).
I find myself.. well, not acting quite myself, every time I have to call my health insurance provider & cable people. The runaround and “it’s never their fault”, the time on hold and navigating the obnoxious phone prompts never fails to get me on edge. Although I reflect after the fact and vow to not be so quick to irritation, in these situations I fall into exactly what I don’t want to be.
Thankfully, I always have Atticus to set me straight and teach me a calmer, gentler alternative.
Heidi & Atticus
http://www.atticusuncensored.com
“commentary to give you paws…”
Oh, Heidi, if we could all just channel Atticus at these moments! In the absence of such, I will just have to keep cultivating my skills…
I have a tendency to do this. Sometimes I regret not sitting back, sometimes I am glad I let rip. Either way though letting myself get mad really doesn’t do me any good – but I’m human – I’ll keep trying to pause before I act.
Louise Edington
Facing Fears for Freedom over Fifty
http://louiseedington.com
Louise, You bring up a good point–there is a time and place to “let it rip”! I’m not that comfortable with that, to be truthful. I’m definitely human in a lot of imperfect ways!
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