In my first “nuts and bolts of doing therapy” class in grad school, my professor (the awesome Dr Lois Stepney) talked a lot about taking your own internal emotional temperature and how to shift it if necessary to be better able to deeply listen to your client. I don’t remember 90% of what she taught on this, but I do remember her saying over and over “all you have to do is get to curious and interested,” which to her was a pretty neutral emotion in the middle of the thermometer. I have used that teaching so many times, in therapy and activism. Knowing that I don’t have to get to “happy” or another “positive” emotion, just neutral and open enough to be curious and interested, is sometimes itself enough to shift my mood in that direction.
I think this also speaks to why it's so important to do our own personal reflection and healing work concurrently with our organizing. Because if we're bringing a lot of unresolved internal conflict/bias/emotions into the conversation that obstructs honest curiosity and trust. People sense it and they respond accordingly. We can't control for their internal stuff that effects their response to us, but we can do our level best to control for ours.
You're absolutely right. It's one of those things that I often see myself and others I care about ping ponging back and forth on-- there are times that we focus on the inward reflection/healing/junk unpacking, and there are times that we direct our work outward in a fury of action (there are also times we do neither and just fester, but that's a different issue), but as I get older I discover more and more how they're like two pedals that have to keep on working together.
Garrett, the focus on trust is SO important. I wrote some about social trust in my book on walking, and the more years go by since that was published, the more I think about that subject.
I’ve asked so many people what they think about trust, how they define it, especially at a community level, and the answers are as you would expect—hugely varied but always, always starting with building a relationship. Unfortunately, those who excel at propaganda know this. Less unfortunately, it’s something that is accessible to those working for a better world, too. It just takes a lot longer and a lot more work, and an understanding that everyone carries fears and traumas and everyday worries that aren’t always evident on the surface. And understanding that trust very easily broken.
So, I can tell this is something both of us have thought a lot about, so I'd love to ask a question that you totally don't have to answer (bc it might take a little more time to do so). What are some your theories on why focusing on the long work of trust and relationship building is often hard for those of us who really do want to build a better world?
That is an excellent question and, yes, difficult to answer. My first thought is to ask if it has *always* been easier to shortcut trust by focusing on blame/enemies/easy answers. Which makes me think of your book, which, coincidentally, I was just thinking of while doing yoga at home!
But that’s not what you’re asking. I will have to think about this. The response that comes to mind right now is my own theory (shared with many people whose thinking has clarified mine, like Riane Eisler) that society and politics have less to do with left vs. right and a lot more to do with how strong one’s urge is to control what others think, feel, and do. It is a lot easier to give into that urge, to say people *should* think or feel or act a certain way, than to constantly accept that a better world requires doing none of those things. And that’s more subtle than it sounds, as your book and others demonstrate.
Every single one of us is prone to “power over” thinking. I certainly am. It’s something I battle in myself all the time. I think it’s why so many societies over the millennia created cultures that unraveled power and reinforced solidarity, community-mindedness, etc. (thank you to Graeber and Wengrow of “The Dawn of Everything” for clarifying that)—they built systems to undermine “power over” tendencies. I don’t think it was ever unintentional, or if it was, rarely so. The point being that if relationality is the norm long enough, it becomes the easier thing.
True freedom, however aspirational, asks far more of us, more acceptance in particular, than is easy for the human mind to adapt to. I think it’s easy for the human spirit and soul, but whenever the mind starts to detach from those, acceptance, along with a lot of other things, becomes difficult to access.
The hard, long work of trust and relationship-building asks us to always meet people where they are, and a) that needs a level of empathy and imagination that are in short supply and rarely rewarded these days; and b) I think there’s an assumption that *everyone* has to meet *everyone else* where they are in order to make this work. We are all nodes, all connectors, all doing different and related and hopefully mutually supportive work. Some people have more capacity, in whatever form (emotional, financial, physical, social), and some people carry and deal with far more harms than others. We don’t all have to do everything, and in fact shouldn’t. We just burn out or traumatize ourselves.
Just need to say that this reflection was such a gift and I've been sitting with it for 24 hours now. The way of being in relationship to other people that you're describing here is really beautiful but so scary (it requires vulnerability and risk).
Which requires an understanding of solidarity and working in tandem and connectively because everyone has different risks within different interactions.
HA wow so spooked – this week I told two of my local journalist friends that they would probably make amazing organizers because they're extraordinarily good at listening to people with dignity and respect, and quoted that exact excerpt from Jane McAlevey both times. Glad we're tuned into the same invisible wavelength this week!!
The idea of knocking on a door and talking to a stranger makes me break out into a cold sweat just thinking about it. I truly admire those who can do this work. I'm participating in a postcards to swing districts project again because (a) I have nice handwriting and (b) it's more in my comfort zone. But the in-person organizers are my heroes!!!
I definitely don't believe that everybody needs to talk to strangers at doors (or even conversations in person). I personally have a complicated relationship to postcards as a swing state recipient of a whole bunch of them, but thoughtful ones from people with nice handwriting are terrific.
In my first “nuts and bolts of doing therapy” class in grad school, my professor (the awesome Dr Lois Stepney) talked a lot about taking your own internal emotional temperature and how to shift it if necessary to be better able to deeply listen to your client. I don’t remember 90% of what she taught on this, but I do remember her saying over and over “all you have to do is get to curious and interested,” which to her was a pretty neutral emotion in the middle of the thermometer. I have used that teaching so many times, in therapy and activism. Knowing that I don’t have to get to “happy” or another “positive” emotion, just neutral and open enough to be curious and interested, is sometimes itself enough to shift my mood in that direction.
Oh that's so smart and insightful. I love that (accurate) description of curiosity as a neutral emotion.
I think this also speaks to why it's so important to do our own personal reflection and healing work concurrently with our organizing. Because if we're bringing a lot of unresolved internal conflict/bias/emotions into the conversation that obstructs honest curiosity and trust. People sense it and they respond accordingly. We can't control for their internal stuff that effects their response to us, but we can do our level best to control for ours.
On a totally unrelated (and juvenile) note, the name of Menomonie always makes me think of this ditty: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TbZ_hTEOKZc
You're absolutely right. It's one of those things that I often see myself and others I care about ping ponging back and forth on-- there are times that we focus on the inward reflection/healing/junk unpacking, and there are times that we direct our work outward in a fury of action (there are also times we do neither and just fester, but that's a different issue), but as I get older I discover more and more how they're like two pedals that have to keep on working together.
Beautifully said!
Garrett, the focus on trust is SO important. I wrote some about social trust in my book on walking, and the more years go by since that was published, the more I think about that subject.
I’ve asked so many people what they think about trust, how they define it, especially at a community level, and the answers are as you would expect—hugely varied but always, always starting with building a relationship. Unfortunately, those who excel at propaganda know this. Less unfortunately, it’s something that is accessible to those working for a better world, too. It just takes a lot longer and a lot more work, and an understanding that everyone carries fears and traumas and everyday worries that aren’t always evident on the surface. And understanding that trust very easily broken.
So, I can tell this is something both of us have thought a lot about, so I'd love to ask a question that you totally don't have to answer (bc it might take a little more time to do so). What are some your theories on why focusing on the long work of trust and relationship building is often hard for those of us who really do want to build a better world?
That is an excellent question and, yes, difficult to answer. My first thought is to ask if it has *always* been easier to shortcut trust by focusing on blame/enemies/easy answers. Which makes me think of your book, which, coincidentally, I was just thinking of while doing yoga at home!
But that’s not what you’re asking. I will have to think about this. The response that comes to mind right now is my own theory (shared with many people whose thinking has clarified mine, like Riane Eisler) that society and politics have less to do with left vs. right and a lot more to do with how strong one’s urge is to control what others think, feel, and do. It is a lot easier to give into that urge, to say people *should* think or feel or act a certain way, than to constantly accept that a better world requires doing none of those things. And that’s more subtle than it sounds, as your book and others demonstrate.
Every single one of us is prone to “power over” thinking. I certainly am. It’s something I battle in myself all the time. I think it’s why so many societies over the millennia created cultures that unraveled power and reinforced solidarity, community-mindedness, etc. (thank you to Graeber and Wengrow of “The Dawn of Everything” for clarifying that)—they built systems to undermine “power over” tendencies. I don’t think it was ever unintentional, or if it was, rarely so. The point being that if relationality is the norm long enough, it becomes the easier thing.
True freedom, however aspirational, asks far more of us, more acceptance in particular, than is easy for the human mind to adapt to. I think it’s easy for the human spirit and soul, but whenever the mind starts to detach from those, acceptance, along with a lot of other things, becomes difficult to access.
The hard, long work of trust and relationship-building asks us to always meet people where they are, and a) that needs a level of empathy and imagination that are in short supply and rarely rewarded these days; and b) I think there’s an assumption that *everyone* has to meet *everyone else* where they are in order to make this work. We are all nodes, all connectors, all doing different and related and hopefully mutually supportive work. Some people have more capacity, in whatever form (emotional, financial, physical, social), and some people carry and deal with far more harms than others. We don’t all have to do everything, and in fact shouldn’t. We just burn out or traumatize ourselves.
TL;DR: Telling people what to do is easy. Understanding them and where they’re coming from is hard.
Just need to say that this reflection was such a gift and I've been sitting with it for 24 hours now. The way of being in relationship to other people that you're describing here is really beautiful but so scary (it requires vulnerability and risk).
YES.
Which requires an understanding of solidarity and working in tandem and connectively because everyone has different risks within different interactions.
HA wow so spooked – this week I told two of my local journalist friends that they would probably make amazing organizers because they're extraordinarily good at listening to people with dignity and respect, and quoted that exact excerpt from Jane McAlevey both times. Glad we're tuned into the same invisible wavelength this week!!
I feel like that's not the first time that's happened! Or at least I hope that's the case, bc jeez it's cool to share a wavelength with you!
The idea of knocking on a door and talking to a stranger makes me break out into a cold sweat just thinking about it. I truly admire those who can do this work. I'm participating in a postcards to swing districts project again because (a) I have nice handwriting and (b) it's more in my comfort zone. But the in-person organizers are my heroes!!!
I definitely don't believe that everybody needs to talk to strangers at doors (or even conversations in person). I personally have a complicated relationship to postcards as a swing state recipient of a whole bunch of them, but thoughtful ones from people with nice handwriting are terrific.