 'We don't get to choose how we come into this world - but God gives the freedom to choose how we live in it.' (Frances Cabrini) The end of a year and start of a new one marks a transition point in the calendar and, at times, in our own lives too. It’s an opportunity to look back, re-evaluate, learn and make choices before casting our eyes forward to take next steps in a future direction. I find the best way I can do this is by taking time away from day-to-day distractions in silence, to sit before God and before myself, as if looking into a mirror long and hard to face whatever may surface into awareness. This kind of reflective examination sometimes helps me to avoid falling into repeating patterns of thought and action, often based more on habitual routines than on conscious decisions. Part of the challenge we may encounter is self-deception; made more difficult by subconscious projection (that is, framing others in ways that distort reality) and introjection (that is, framing ourselves in ways that distort reality). The subconscious part means we do it without being aware that we’re doing it. It’s a kind of fooling ourselves about fooling ourselves – a double bind, if you like. There’s a risk, on the one hand, that we believe what we want to believe – which is a way of defending ourselves from anxiety, confusion or stress – or, on the other, we believe what we fear most – which is a sign, driver and consequence of anxiety. And both without knowing it. So how can we get past this? I try a number of strategies. On the foundational hope, purpose and ethics front, I reflect prayerfully on the Bible and on other spiritual resources. On the professional development front, including to address my own hidden assumptions and risks of avoidance, I employ a talented coach who’s high in stimulus and in challenge. On the fresh thinking front, I network, read articles and write blogs to share and invite insights and ideas with and from others. On the international front, I work cross-culturally and, on occasion, visit other places and cultures. Taken as a whole, these approaches help me to stay, as well as I can, at the edge of my calling.
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 ‘Hope reflects a psychological state in which we perceive the way-power and the willpower to get to our destination.’ (Charles Snyder) I’ve spent much of the past 18 years working with leaders in beyond-profit organisations, enabling them to lead and influence transitions in the midst of dynamically-complex change. This often involves helping them to develop the qualities and relationships they need to support themselves and others to survive, thrive and perform well in the face of an uncertain and, at times, anxiety-provoking future. A recurring challenge that such leaders encounter is how to instil and sustain hope within themselves as well as within and between others. Putting on a brave face my inspire confidence in the short-term but can feel inauthentic if their foundations are wobbling – and authenticity is a critical condition for building and sustaining trust. New leadership calls for resilience, resourcefulness and faith. Hope Theory offers some useful insights and ideas here. If we (a) have a desired future in mind (vision), (b) can see a way by which it can be achieved (way-power) and (c) are motivated to take action to do it (willpower), we are more likely to experience genuine hope. It’s very different to abstract idealism or naïve optimism, which may engender a good feeling but lack any grounding in reality. Yet what to do if someone is stuck: devoid of vision, unable to see a way forward or lacking in any sense of agency to do anything about it? This is where co-active leadership, coaching and action learning can really help; offering practical means by which people and groups can discover or create fresh goals, find or devise innovative solutions, and gain the traction they need to move things forward. Do you need help with hope? Get in touch!  ‘Jesus - teach us to wait, as we hang in the balance of the past and the possible. Help us to make loving choices, as you did.’ (Thomas Merton) Who could have anticipated it? The Covid lockdown. Russia’s invasion of East Ukraine. 7 October Hamas attack. Ukraine (still) fighting back. Hezbollah decapitated. Free speech clampdown in UK. Iran firing missiles directly at Israel. Donald Trump re-elected in the US. North Korean deployment to Russia. French and German political meltdown. Sudden collapse of the Assad regime. The list goes on. Events appearing as if out of nowhere, taking by surprise. This is a backdrop to a BANI perspective on the world: Brittle, Anxious, Non-Linear and Incomprehensible. It’s not just a way of thinking about what’s happening around us. It’s an existential expression of how it can feel to be in the world. It shatters illusions of predictability and control. Think back at a more personal level – what have been your most significant life experiences over the past year? How many did you know or anticipate in advance? It corresponds, perhaps, to a rise in mental health crises across the world. If we can’t predict or control the future with any degree of certainty, it can leave us feeling anxious, stressed or depressed. After all, anything could come in from anywhere, disrupting our carefully-made plans and throwing everything, including ourselves, in the air – with no idea where it and we may land. Little wonder people are turning to ideologies and leaders that promise ‘security’. Yet so often their assurance is a façade; a delusion wrapped in compelling rhetoric that disguises its own emptiness. How, then, to survive and thrive in this earth-shaking context where threats ranging from climate emergency to nuclear war are real and extreme? I'm trying to follow Jesus’ example here: courage to face truth, prayerfully, head-on and not to hide; compassion to act, prayerfully, in humility and love: one person, issue and moment at a time. How about you?  ‘I can’t dream while the platform’s burning.’ (Benjamin Downing) It’s hard to think straight, let alone creatively, if we feel threatened, anxious or stressed. It’s like trying to see clearly while thick clouds of emotion-filled dust are kicked up in the air. For coaching to be effective, sufficient psychological safety and trust are critical success factors. This means co-creating the conditions for a person to engage in critical reflection, decision-making and action. Without it, searching questions are likely to trigger defensive routines. These risk dynamics can be amplified if, for instance, a person is being coached by their own line-manager and worried about how it could affect subsequent performance evaluations; or if coaching has been commissioned by HR as a remedial intervention, rather than something the person has chosen for themselves; or if a person being coached has been betrayed before and doesn’t feel fully-confident in the boundaries of confidentiality they’ve agreed with a coach. In view of this, I find that careful contracting with potential and new clients is very important. It means discussing these and any other issues of hope or concern explicitly from the outset. I may ask, ‘If we were to work together, what would that mean for you (potential outcomes, consequences or implications)?’ And, ‘Given that, if our work together were to be successful (for you, your team or organisation), what would you need (from me, yourself or others)?’ Do you need help with creating psychological safety? Get in touch!  ‘True compassion means not only feeling another's pain but also being moved to help relieve it.’ (Daniel Goleman) The elderly woman felt scared as she entered the care home. She has dementia and the change in surroundings left her feeling anxious and confused. That first evening in her new room, she wanted to lay down to sleep but she stood in silence, frozen in fear. Seeing her reaction, her care worker took her by the hand, led her gently to the bed and laid down beside her. In doing so, she modelled extraordinary empathy and compassion, stretched the boundaries of professional practice and, in doing so, enabled this woman to rest and relax. She felt safer now, not alone. I felt astonished as I heard this story from a good friend in Germany last night. I tried to imagine the scene and, in doing so, I felt quite tearful. It made me reflect on the deep, healing power of touch and of being-with, especially perhaps when working with people with dementia and other cognitive, emotional or relational challenges. Yes, we do need to take safeguarding concerns seriously. Yes, we do need to consider the needs and preferences of different individuals, cultures and circumstances too. Yet how to retain the human in the midst of formal roles and rules..?  ‘I have always felt that ultimately along the way of life an individual must stand up and be counted and be willing to face the consequences, whatever they are. If we are filled with fear, we cannot do it. And my great prayer is always that God will save me from the paralysis of crippling fear, because I think when a person lives with the fear of the consequences for their personal life, they can never do anything in terms of lifting the whole of humanity.’ (Martin Luther King) I know that fear. I have sometimes experienced it as a vague, background yet seemingly ever-present existential angst. At other times, it has been a response to a specific perceived threat, whether real or imagined, that triggers an anxious feeling. At such times I have learned…and I’m still learning…to pause, breathe, pray and try not to panic. Fight-flight-freeze is an instinctive rather than reflective response that can leave us feeling stressed, powerless and stranded. A real challenge is how to avoid feeding that fear. We may play out all kinds of catastrophic scenarios in the imagination, an endless list of what-if scenarios, amplifying our worst anxieties. We may avoid people, situations or relationships, a kind of flight response, to avoid the risk of our fears actually materialising. Our world may become smaller as we shrink back, self-protect, attempt to keep ourselves safe from harm. (And sometimes that’s a price worth paying.) In his astonishing autobiography, however, Martin Luther King recounts the way he found to face the dangers (which included relentless physical threats, bombing of his home and, ultimately, assassination) – inherent to his calling to address deep-rooted social injustice – and yet still to persevere. It was to face directly his fear of death before God and, by faith, to let go of that fear. That released him to be the remarkable and courageous role model we still admire today.  ‘How can we make the snakes feel safe?’ The power of metaphor. Last week I worked with a group of trauma-informed practice experts. We were thinking about leading and influencing change in dynamically-complex relational systems such as teams and organisations. I shared the image of a snakes-and-ladders game board as a way both of depicting the realities of such change experiences and as a way of managing expectations. Whilst playing with possible meanings for the snakes, the ladders and the game as a whole, we explored how, at times, those people or groups we may view as passive, blocking or undermining vis a vis our own plans may be acting out of anxiety. I was reminded of Richard Young’s two key questions in the organisation development (OD) arena: ‘Where's the power and how is it exercised?’ ‘Where's the anxiety and how does it manifest itself?’ In my experience, we may discover anxiety in all dimensions of human systems. Take, for instance, the leader who is feeling pressured by multiple tasks and demands and worried that the well-meaning initiative you are proposing will be the straw that breaks the camel’s back. Or the team member who is worried that the change you are advocating will increase her responsibilities and leave her feeling inadequate, deskilled or exhausted. I worked with a new senior leader who, in our monthly meetings, would ask me lots of very detailed financial questions. I found it time-consuming and stressful because, although I felt confident in managing my budget, I wasn’t used to reporting at such micro levels. Over time, I began to wonder if I might inadvertently have started to represent a snake in his system…and he in mine. At our next meeting, I asked what he would need from me to give him sufficient trust and confidence in my financial management that I wouldn’t need to report like this in subsequent months. He said: ‘If you were to report using financial language.’ I discovered that, as a Finance Director by background and accountable for my area at Executive level, my limited use of financial language had evoked anxiety in him that I may not have a grip on my team’s finances. I spoke with Finance, expanded my lexicon, reported briefly using his language at the next meeting – and we never returned to micro detail again. The principle here was to approach the person and the issue in an open spirit of curiosity, explore respective needs, identify tangible solutions, and apply them to practice. We both transformed from snakes into ladders and our relationship grew from strength to strength.  ‘It is always much more difficult to sing when the audience has turned its back.’ (Calvin Miller) Early in my career, I worked for an over-zealous manager who would sit at the front while I was speaking at events; looking impatient, rolling her hands and tapping her watch. Perhaps she was worrying, unnecessarily, whether I would keep to time. I imagine she thought she was being helpful. I learned then that a look of disapproval or distrust is sometimes all it takes to sap a person’s confidence or to ruin their performance. An Australian pop group reflected a similar feeling and impact in its half-pleading song lyric, ‘I can't do well when I think you're going to leave me, even though I try’. (Empire of the Sun) What a stark contrast a word of encouragement can be. Some years later, I was invited to speak at a prestigious international conference. I had grown in confidence, yet there was something about this event that evoked all kinds of anxieties within me. As I sat alone in the VIP lounge beforehand, I could see my hand trembling uncontrollably as I tried hard to hold a hot drink. When I stepped nervously into the auditorium and onto its expansive, spot-lit stage, I could see smartly-dressed delegates being ushered into the room and handed very professional-looking folders as they looked to find a seat. My legs felt like jelly, so I sat down on the steps beside the podium and took deep breaths to try to relax myself. At that moment, a tiny black woman walked directly up to me and smiled brightly. She announced enthusiastically that she has travelled all the way from the Solomon Islands to be here, and was surprised and delighted to read in the brochure that I too was a ‘follower of Jesus’. I thanked her warmly for introducing herself. Her face shone like an angel. ‘I will be sitting in the centre of the room’, she said, ‘and praying for you continually!’ My knees found strength. The speech went well. When have you felt encouraged at work? How did affect your performance?  ‘Think of your techniques as toys rather than tools.’ (Brian Watts) This was an insightful, inspiring and innovative coach who had a gift for working at the learning edge, the leading edge, the sometimes bleeding edge. I had the pleasure of working with him as a close colleague and as a client. For me, it was a profound, at times disconcerting, and yet often invigorating learning experience. It challenged my ingrained, default ways of thinking about and doing my work. It also gave me my first experiential taste of the power of Gestalt. His approach started with a simple and open invitation, ‘Be free, creative and experimental. See what happens. Let the child play!’ His conviction was that transformation takes place (a) through experiential learning, and (b) at what is, for the client, his or her own learning edge. It’s that frontier horizon at which we place our self- and culturally-imposed limits. It’s the stretched and stretching place where we may discover our own subconscious psychological defences too. I talked about a forthcoming meeting with an executive team. I was new in my career and found the anticipation of this encounter very anxiety-provoking. The coach invited me to leave the room, then to step back in as if entering the executive meeting room itself. When I did so, he observed (to my surprise) that I was holding my hand across my chest, as if protecting my heart. ‘How would it be if you were to reveal your heart in that meeting?’ I did so, and that transformed everything. In the creative, experimental spirit that lays at the heart of Gestalt coaching, he reminded me, ‘Sometimes these things will fall flat. It’s always a leap of faith.’ It’s a suck-it-and-see approach: try something new and see what may emerge into awareness. It taught me that learning has rational, emotional, intuitive, imaginative and somatic dimensions. I discovered I stand to learn most when I take a risk, when I dare to step out and beyond my natural-instinctive learning mode. Curious to experience the power of Gestalt? Get in touch! [For more examples of Gestalt coaching in practice, see: Just do it; Crab to dolphin; Let's get physical]  'The optimism of the action is better than the pessimism of the thought.' (Greenpeace) Resilience is a common buzz word today, partly in response to the complex mental health challenges that individuals and communities face in a brittle, anxious, non-linear and incomprehensible (BANI) world. Who would have imagined 3 years ago, for instance, that Covid19 would strike or that Russia would invade Ukraine, with all the ramifications this has precipitated in our personal and collective lives? It can feel like too much time spent on the back foot, reacting to pressures that may appear from anywhere, without warning, from left field – rather than creating the positive future we hope for. A psychological, social and political risk is that people and societies develop a ‘Whatever’ attitude, an apathetic ‘What’s the point?’ mentality. After all, what is the point of investing our time, effort and other resources into something that could all get blown away again in a brief moment? A good friend worked in Liberia with a community that was trying to recover from the effects of a bloody civil war. They started to build schools, hospitals and other infrastructure and, just as things were beginning to look hopeful, a violent, armed militia swept through the area and burned everything to the ground. This can feel like an apocalyptic game of snakes and ladders. Take one step forward and, all of a sudden, back to square one again. A close friend in the Philippines befriended people in a very poor makeshift community, surviving at the side of a busy road in boxes and under tarpaulins. She worked hard to improve the quality of their lives, to ensure that they felt and experienced authentic love, care and support, and it started to have a dramatic human impact. Faces brightened and hopes were lifted. Then, out of nowhere, government trucks appeared and bulldozed that whole place to the ground. It could be tempting to give up. One coping mechanism is to focus on living just one moment, one day, at a time because, after all, 'Who can know what tomorrow will bring?' This may engender an element of peaceful acceptance, akin to that through mindfulness. It can also morph into a form of passive, deterministic fatalism: ‘We can’t change anything, so why try?’ Martin Luther King's response stands in stark contrast who, in the face of setbacks, advocated, ‘We’ve got to give ourselves to this struggle until the end. Nothing would more tragic than to stop at this point. We’ve got to see it through.’ Psychologically, both approaches could be regarded as survival strategies, as personal and social defences against anxiety. In a way, they are adaptive responses: ways of thinking, being and behaving that seek to create a greater sense of agency and control in the face of painful powerlessness. In the former case, a level of control is gained, paradoxically, through choosing to relinquish control. It's a letting-go rather than a clinging-on. In the latter, a fight-response (albeit a faith-fuelled, non-violent fight in the case of MLK), control is sought by changing the conditions that deprive of control. Each constitutes it's own way of responding to an external reality – and it’s out there as well as in here that the real and tangible challenges of resilience and transformation persist. The social, political and economic needs of the poorest, most vulnerable and oppressed people in the world don’t exist or disappear, depending simply on how we or they may perceive or feel about them. MLK’s call to action was radical: ‘We need to develop a kind of dangerous unselfishness. It’s no longer a question of what will happen to us if we get involved. It’s what will happen to them (and us) if we don’t?’ [See also: Resilient; When disaster strikes; Clash of realities] |
Nick WrightI'm a psychological coach, trainer and OD consultant. Curious to discover how can I help you? Get in touch! 
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