 ‘I know you think you understand what you thought I said but I'm not sure you realize that what you heard is not what I meant.’ ‘I guess I should warn you, if I turn out to be particularly clear, you’ve probably misunderstood what I said.’ (Alan Greenspan) You may have had that experience of communicating something you thought was perfectly clear, only to discover that the other person got the completely wrong end of the proverbial stick. How is that possible? Was it something in what you said or, perhaps, how you said it that influenced how the message was received, distorted or misunderstood? Whatever the cause, when it does happen, you can both feel bemused, confused or frustrated – and the consequences can be difficult, damaging or dangerous. I want to suggest this occurs mainly as a result of mismatched beliefs, values, assumptions and emotions in four critical areas: language, culture, context and relationship. There are, of course, situations in which a person may wilfully misinterpret what you said or simply choose to ignore you. However, I’m thinking more here about when it happens inadvertently and out of awareness. It’s something about what influences (a) what we infer and (b) how we interpret, when we communicate – so that we can improve it. The language question means the same words can mean different things to different people, even in the same language group. The culture question means the assumptions I make appear obvious or self-evident in the groups or teams I belong to. The context question means I interpret what you say based on my own perspective and understanding of the situation. The relationship question means I filter what you say based on what I perceive and feel about the nature, dynamics and quality of our relationship. So – this where a spirit of inquiry can help: Check what the other has heard and understood. Notice the language they use. Be curious about their cultural and contextual perspectives. Sense and explore how they are feeling. Build trust.
52 Comments
 ‘The people walking in darkness have seen a great light.’ (The Bible) You may have heard it said a picture can paint a thousand words. This image (above), captured by Jasmin’s daughter, Mary, this week, spoke more to me about the authentic meaning of Christmas than any I’ve seen on glitzy, tacky TV ads. Jasmin, Mary, Paul and a small group of inspired students in the Philippines spent their Christmas bringing good news to the poor. Their first venture involved taking gifts and running a fun-filled party for 127 poverty-stricken children and their families who live in a cemetery. It brought hope to people on the margins of society who so often live without hope. The joy on the children’s faces was incredible. That brought joy to Jasmin and her helpers too. True light brings light, and it reflects back too. Today, Christmas day, Jasmin, Mary and Paul ventured out again, this time to take gifts and the message of Divine love to 173 poverty-stricken children and families who live on the streets. The look of surprise and joy on their faces was life-giving too. They could never have imagined being seen, valued and loved like this. The people walking in darkness have seen a great Light.  ‘God loves to act. The disempowered, the inarticulate, the poor, the broken and the oppressed are a focus of God’s action in the world. Jesus welcomes home those who were in the wrong place even to begin.’ (Iain Matthew) 'Today, a Saviour has been born to you.' Merry Christmas!  'I am them.' (Jasmin, Philippines) You may hear the word ‘Immanuel’ (sometimes spelt with an ‘E’) sung in Christmas carols this year. Immanuel means God with us and it’s one of the ways in which Jesus Christ is described in the Bible, signifying both who he is and what he represents for us. True followers of Jesus are those through whom God continues to presence himself in this world, enabling others to encounter God in and through them. That’s very different to empty religion or churchianity, outward expressions of faith that lack that critical inner vitality: the life and breath of God. Jasmin in the Philippines calls this a sacred encounter. Today, with some inspired family, friends and students, she took the presence of God – his blazing life, love and joy – to children and families who live their lives among the dead, a community that survives quite literally in a cemetery. Some people provided practical resources and others accompanied her, carrying nutritious food and children’s presents, leading fun activities and standing alongside these poorest of the poor. What a gift to see and be seen. Immanuel. God with us. We can be hope.  ‘I tell you the truth, whatever you did for one of the least of these brothers and sisters of mine, you did for me.’ (Jesus Christ) To the poorest of the poor, to be seen is to be acknowledged, recognised, valued. It affirms, ‘I exist’. No – more than exist. ‘I matter’. Some could even dare to venture, ‘I am loved’. Jasmin sees these children playing in a cemetery. Others don’t see them. They are invisible. They don’t matter. Locals warn Jasmin not to get involved with these kids. They live among the mausolea and tombstones in a makeshift community that’s renowned for being badly crime-ridden and dangerous. Their words of caution are well-grounded. A visitor before Jasmin was stabbed, and later a woman was shot dead in front of her when she returned to see these kids. Yet this doesn’t deter her. Jasmin gets alongside the children and their families, takes an interest in their lives and wellbeing and, gradually, they begin to experience being…seen. It takes them by surprise at first, not sure what to make of this humble saint whose smiling gaze makes them, somehow, feel more human. Jasmin tells them with heartfelt conviction that Jesus sees them too, through eyes filled with love, hope and possibility. They start to imagine a different future. Jasmin runs a lively summer school for the unschooled children. Some of the mums get inspired and start to take more ownership of their environment and community. Two years ago, Jasmin asked the children what they’d love for Christmas. They didn’t know what to say. They’d never had a Christmas. Their families were too poor to buy food or gifts. They asked for roll-up mattresses to keep them warm at night, shielding them from the hard cold of the tomb stones. 127 mattresses, 1 for every child, arrived that Christmas Day. Last year, she asked again. This time: ‘A school bag’ Christmas Day – 127 strong and brightly coloured school bags arrived. This year: ‘Please, fresh pants and girls' sanitary items’. (That really humbled me). Jasmin is wrapping 127 beautiful gifts today. She sees them. Jesus sees them. Each child has a name.  'Courage is being scared to death... and saddling up anyway.' (John Wayne) I was impressed and amazed this week by the astonishingly courageous actions of Ahmed al-Ahmed, an unarmed, Syrian-born Muslim passer-by who saw one of the murderous Islamist terrorists at Bondi Beach, Australia, and leapt on him to disarm him. I can only imagine how many lives he saved at the Jewish Hanukkah event where so many others were killed or wounded. Ahmed al-Ahmed was shot in the process by the other terrorist attacker and is now in hospital recovering. Seeing his actions on social media video clips where he runs at the surprised terrorist, throws himself against him and wrestles the gun from his hands is nothing short of heroic. I find myself wondering whether he had time to think…and wondering too what I would have done.  ‘Pause, wait…and wait a bit longer.’ (Phil Day) I loved this reflection by Phil (above) at a coaching for managers training workshop this week. Between sessions, we had invited participants to practise using what they had learned so far and to notice what seems to make difference. In earlier sessions, some managers had found it difficult to hold the silence. For some, it was because they weren’t used to sitting in silence and it felt strange, awkward or uncomfortable for them. Others were so keen to help that they found themselves posing next questions as soon as their colleague had finished speaking. We explored how silence in coaching is so much more than a simple absence of noise. It’s about presence, contact, attention and listening – as well as holding space for the other person to think, reflect, feel and process whatever may be going on for them. It’s sometimes as if the silence itself between a coach and coachee can create an evocative, creative tension where something deeper or more profound is offered sacred opportunity to emerge. Questions, like suggestions, can inadvertently prove an interference if silence has insufficient time to do its work.  ‘Christianism: A crude political ideology and the triumph of empty symbolism.’ (Ben Ryan)
The UK has spent decades sleepwalking toward secularism, where faith has been driven relentlessly into the personal-private sphere. Now we're waking up to something very different. A muscular version of Christianity is re-emerging, not as a spiritual faith but as a political identity. It’s a re‑branding of national belonging where being 'British' feels increasingly identified with being ‘Christian’. I'm not talking about the gospel of Jesus Christ or about spiritual renewal here. I am talking about identity politics. It’s about casting Christianity as a default badge of belonging and using that badge to redraw the boundaries of who counts as ‘us’ vs ‘them’. Anxiety and frustration are fuelling that shift in the face of mass migration, cultural disruption and a fear that who ‘we’ are is slipping away. ‘Christian’ is being used increasingly as a political brand. Once any religion becomes a marker of national or cultural identity, it becomes a de facto test of belonging. Tests always leave people, the ‘others’, outside. It chips away at the humility and compassion that are, for followers of Jesus, core to their lives. Religion becomes less about conscience or community and more about raw power. For Christians who believe authentic faith should question power, who see gospel values as both universal and counter‑cultural, the appropriation of Christianity into nationalism feels like a dangerous distortion. Jesus said, ‘Love your enemies’ (which suggests there are those we may rightly regard as enemies). True faith lays in reaching out in love – not in alienation or conquest.  ‘Coaching is taking a player where they can't take themselves.’ (Jose Mourinho) ‘Why is it so difficult to coach myself?’ Good question. We often need another person because coaching isn’t just about having the right tools. It’s about creating a presence and reflective space we can’t generate alone. A coach can help provide perspective, emotional grounding, accountability and cognitive support that our brain literally can’t offer itself in real time. People have persistent cognitive blind spots, including the self-serving bias, where we sometimes attribute success to internal factors and failure to external ones (a phenomenon known as the bias blind spot). It means we can’t see our own assumptions clearly. A coach can offer external perspective to surface or challenge distorted narratives or hidden patterns. Emotion regulation, especially under stress, is more effective with social support from another. Neuroscience has shown that, for instance, holding someone’s hand reduces neural responses to threat. Self-coaching during emotional turmoil is like trying to fix a car while it’s on fire. A coach can help co-regulate our emotional state, helping us access rational thinking. We sometimes interpret our own actions based on circumstances but interpret others’ actions as revealing their character (a distinction known as the actor-observer bias). When you're in your own story, it's hard to gain distance or objectivity. A coach helps you become an observer of your own created narrative – something that’s almost impossible to do from the inside. Solving complex problems requires juggling competing thoughts and emotions. The working memory has limited capacity for simultaneous processing. Coaching requires meta-cognition: that is, thinking about our own thinking. It’s cognitively taxing to both reflect and reframe at once. A coach can help offload some of this mental burden, enabling deeper insight. Finally, behavioural change is more likely when someone else is involved, especially someone who provides non-judgmental accountability. Implementation intentions (plans to change behaviour) are significantly more effective when made public. When working with a coach, our intentions are less likely to stay in our head and more likely to be outworked in practice. Are you curious to work with a coach? Get in touch!  ‘Out beyond ideas of wrongdoing and rightdoing there is a field. I’ll meet you there.’ (Rumi) When training Action Learning facilitators, I’ve noticed that new facilitators are often fearful of facing silence. It’s as if they are construing silence in a group as a problem or a challenge they must somehow find a way to overcome. In doing so, they may be missing a golden opportunity for reflection, awareness and sense-making that could shift a group and individuals in it from transactional to transformational outcomes. As an Action Learning facilitator, I find it useful to consider what happens in a set through three distinct and inter-related lenses: inner world; interpersonal space and systemic context. The first looks at what individuals bring into the set; the second at how individuals in that space interact, communicate and co-create meaning; the third at broader social, cultural and structural dynamics that shape what happens in the set. Through an inner world lens, silence may indicate e.g. a person is thinking deeply; uncertain; emotionally activated; afraid to speak; having an insight; resisting or withdrawing. Through an interpersonal space lens, it may indicate e.g. waiting for permission or leadership; avoiding a hot spot; power dynamics are at play; trust is low or fragile; someone is dominating (others pull back); the group is sensing the emotional tone. Through a systemic context lens, it may indicate e.g. cultural norms about hierarchy or deference to perceived authority; organisational fear; learned habits of not questioning leadership or peers; a team or group climate where people do not feel safe; socialised patterns of who speaks first and who holds back. If we are curious about these possibilities, silence can form part of the set’s work, not be an interruption of it. In enabling silence, I contract with groups around its potential benefits, e.g. a space for deeper reflection; room for less dominant voices to speak; a pause that helps a group move from advocacy to inquiry; time for emotional processing; a shift from fast thinking to slower thinking. In the moment, I may let the silence breathe; invite the set to name what they’re experiencing; ask a process question; explore what may be going on. When working with silence, the pattern, timing, length and who is involved all matter. Prolonged silence after a bold question could indicate, say, deep thinking; after conflict, tension; after a dominant voice, caution; after a vulnerable moment, empathy; during ideation, stuck-ness; before a decision, uncertainty. Ask in an open spirit and tentative tone: ‘I’m noticing some silence. What is it telling us?’ Let the silence speak. |
Nick WrightI'm a psychological coach, trainer and OD consultant. Curious to discover how can I help you? Get in touch! 
Like what you read? Simply enter your email address below to receive regular blog updates!
|
RSS Feed