Leadership by Example: Non-Judging Communication

Just a little funny screengrab to start off your week. This was in Spokane, my hometown, and broadcast on KHQ Local News, the NBC affiliate in the area, after a stabbing that occurred near downtown. This particular image went viral on Reddit, Tumblr, and a number of other social media outlets. Notably, this individual's communication was ineffective. So here we are. 

We've all had those interactions. The ones where you don't realize that the person to whom you're speaking is actually in a deep state of emotional distress. They happen every day. Usually it's not your fault; I mean, they do an excellent job of putting on "masks" under which they can hide their true feelings, what is truly going on in their lives. It could be a death in the family. It could be severe depression. It could be crippling anorexia. Alternatively, they could be attempting to hide their deep emotional bliss. Perhaps they just visited home. Maybe they just got back from a retreat and are on a spiritual high.

The point is that we don't know where others are coming from. But when we recognize the diverse and varied experiences from which others come, we can better understand relate to and communicate with others so as to facilitate strong, decisive leadership. As such, my five strategies come in the form of steps. Note that all of these steps can be fit into the group dynamic as well.

STEP 1: Recognize the overall and inherent diversity and uniqueness of each and every person. By better recognizing that we each have our own struggles, challenges, triumphs, and perspectives which govern the way which we live our lives, we can better relate to others.

STEP 2: Try to understand and respect the other person's differences. Inevitably, we aren't always going to be dealing with people who have similar experiences to ours. We will, however, interact with hundreds of other people on a daily basis. We can choose to allow these feel comfortable in communicating with us, or we can become hostile because they don't understand our own points of view. It's our choice. Not theirs. Now, this isn't license to allow the other person to be a jerk to you. On the contrary, this method of communicating asks you to understand why the other person might be acting like a jerk.

STEP 3: Adapt your communication style so as to be more sensitive to the needs of the other. For example, take the person who was acting like a jerk to you earlier. Perhaps he is stressed about a midterm or something else. Try speaking with less of an inclination toward deadlines and recriminations and more toward sympathy. You may need to "lay down the law," for example, on a group project, but you cannot simply move toward anger and hard deadlines, or the other individual might become agitated. Try to empathize with the other person.

STEP 4: Move toward a mutual solution. All parties can be agreeable. If this is starting to sound like conflict resolution, that's because non-judging communication is absolutely key to conflict resolution. You can't move forward to a solution when one party is constantly judging the other. All parties should be satisfied as long as they are empathizing/sympathizing with each other.

STEP 5: Constantly strive to become more discerning in when you "judge" during communication. This can come in the form of body language, appearance, and a variety of factors. The key is that "judging" in communication is not inherently bad, but in many cases it reduces our ability to understand where the other individual is coming from, which is assuredly bad.

 Anyway, follow these five steps, and you will be a leader in non-judging communication. They key is to understand that not everyone comes from your background. In recognizing that, we become not only better, more effective leaders who can better relate to those we serve, but also just better human beings.

"This I Believe": The "Active Stillness" of Nature, and of Natural Beauty, brings Catharsis

EDIT: I'm debating recording a version and posting it here. As I was writing it, I tried to pay special attention to the cadence in play while reading this, and I kind of want to get an idea of how to better plan for this while writing in the first place.

"It's the stillness."

My home, the Pacific Northwest, is famous for, among other things, the Space Needle, Pike Place Market, Portlandia, Microsoft, and some of the most liberal politics in the world. But look beyond the cities and towns, beyond the politics, and you’ll find perhaps the most naturally-beautiful area of the United States. By disconnecting from the “noise” of everyday life and taking advantage of these pristine and world-class resources—from Mount Rainer to the Pacific Ocean, from Lake Coeur d’Alene to the Columbia River Gorge, from the Cascades to the Selkirks—a more effective listening to oneself becomes possible.

I’ve been visiting Schweitzer in the northern Idaho mountains for nearly my entire life. Few activities can be more cathartic. After a long, stressful, and sleep-deprived week, my personal prescription might be a few knee-deep powder runs off of Pucci’s Chute or Lakeside. Or it could be a morning of high-speed, high-angle, high-adrenaline cruisers. I could take to the peaceful stillness of the trees, or hit up the sick rails, boxes, and jumps in the park. There’s something about outdoor recreation that just lends itself to a greater sense of freedom. A sense of unlimited possibilities, and not simply as toward the next run. Something changes inside of me; I feel more alive, more excited, more free. Somehow, more whole, more confident, more me. All of my worldly cares and anxieties slip away, and I allow myself the privilege of introspection and self-evaluation without giving myself the chance for criticism or doubt.

In nature, silence, particularly, tends to do that. With little else but the snow, the wind, the mountains, and the sprawling views below, I am freed from the limitations and expectations of everyday life. Free from the pain. Free from the noise. The noise. 

There are new noises here, and they are more unique and more beautiful than anything I hear elsewhere. The crunch of snow underneath my feet as I walk up South Ridge on a moonlit hike. The purring of the brisk westerly winds. The occasional owl, hooting in the distance. Myself. Myself. Amidst the stress of life, family, academics, and whatever else may be going on, it just feels impossible to even know how I am feeling at any given point. But here, in my personal wilderness, in this blissful silence, I can hear myself and hone in to my greatest struggles, joys, and longings. And in doing so, I become more fully me.

So when life gets rough, I take refuge in the mountains. When I’m feeling lost or confused, I seek out the stillness of nature. In recreating, in experiencing, in living the beauty of the “active stillness” of the environment, I believe that I can become not just a better person, but a better soul.

"This I Believe": Sharing Oneself in Service

This week, I share with you a "This I Believe" essay written by Isabel Allende of Sausalito, California in the spring of 2005. She writes:

I have lived with passion and in a hurry, trying to accomplish too many things. I never had time to think about my beliefs until my 28-year-old daughter Paula fell ill. She was in a coma for a year and I took care of her at home, until she died in my arms in December of 1992. 

During that year of agony and the following year of my grieving, everything stopped for me. There was nothing to do — just cry and remember. However, that year also gave an opportunity to reflect upon my journey and the principles that hold me together. I discovered that there is consistency in my beliefs, my writing and the way I lead my life. I have not changed, I am still the same girl I was fifty years ago, and the same young woman I was in the seventies. I still lust for life, I am still ferociously independent, I still crave justice and I fall madly in love easily. 

Paralyzed and silent in her bed, my daughter Paula taught me a lesson that is now my mantra: You only have what you give. It’s by spending yourself that you become rich. 

Paula led a life of service. She worked as a volunteer helping women and children, eight hours a day, six days a week. She never had any money, but she needed very little. When she died she had nothing and she needed nothing. During her illness I had to let go of everything: her laughter, her voice, her grace, her beauty, her company and finally her spirit. When she died I thought I had lost everything. But then I realized I still had the love I had given her. I don’t even know if she was able to receive that love. She could not respond in any way, her eyes were somber pools that reflected no light. But I was full of love and that love keeps growing and multiplying and giving fruit. 

The pain of losing my child was a cleansing experience. I had to throw overboard all excess baggage and keep only what is essential. Because of Paula, I don’t cling to anything anymore. Now I like to give much more than to receive. I am happier when I love than when I am loved. I adore my husband, my son, my grandchildren, my mother, my dog, and frankly I don’t know if they even like me. But who cares? Loving them is my joy. 

Give, give, give — what is the point of having experience, knowledge or talent if I don’t give it away? Of having stories if I don’t tell them to others? Of having wealth if I don’t share it? I don’t intend to be cremated with any of it! It is in giving that I connect with others, with the world and with the divine.

It is in giving that I feel the spirit of my daughter inside me, like a soft presence.

What is the point of having experience, knowledge, or talent if I don't give it away? A fascinating, thought-provoking question, and one which I wrestle with every day. I find that I feel more fulfilled, more alive, when I share my own joys with others. Whether it's planning the next wacky event, like a Miracle Fruit Tasting Party, or serving the hungry at a local pantry, I find that being a light for others is as simple as being willing to open your heart to them.

By sharing our joys with others and by extending an arm to those in need, we can better connect, I believe, not only to others, but to ourselves.

Personal Tensions: Or, "Why are these blog posts always so appropriately timed?"

(Note: I apologize for the lateness of this post. I felt like I needed more time to reflect on it, and I was busy for all of Saturday and much of Sunday. Also, forgive the length; I've been trying to take more time for self-reflection lately, and it tends to spill over into this blog. Please do read all the way through though; I do think that it's worth it, and I won't be providing CliffsNotes.)

"Have patience with all that remains unresolved in your heart, and try to love the questions themselves. Like locked rooms. Like books written in a foreign language. Do not now look for the answers, for they cannot now be given to you, because you would not be able to live them. The point is to live everything. Live the questions now. Perhaps gradually, and without even noticing it, you will find yourself, some day, living yourself into the answers."

--Rainer Maria Rilke, Letters to a Young Poet

There's no way to describe it, but it seems like these blog posts always come at the best time, and always in the best way. Right in the middle of a major internal and personal struggle which has consumed much of my past year or so, albeit more so in the past six months, I'm struck with the opportunity to reflect on my own personal values (i.e. last week, with congruence) and commitments. As well, I'm given the opportunity to learn about my own personal qualities that shaped me into the person I am today (i.e. with the MBTI).

I can't even begin to express how grateful I am for this opportunity. ELP has been the best decision I've made since enrolling at Santa Clara University, and it means the world to me that we have such a great group of people with whom to share our stories, connect, envision, plan, create, and discuss. As all leaders should do. So thank you for that. At mid-quarter, here's to another five weeks of serendipitous awesomeness.

The Setup
(Naturally, the other posts on this blog form a bit of necessary background as well. Feel free to click around on other posts if you feel like you need more information or setup.)

I knew from the beginning that college would not be an easy transition. Little did I know that it would be as difficult that it has been. Flashback to last year. At my Jesuit high school of nearly one thousand students, I was deeply and passionately involved. I took all Honors/AP classes, I ran track for three years, I served as a member and then as the President of Knights of the Leash, a service organization for junior and senior men, I organized numerous class-wide events junior year and then served as the President of my Senior Class Council, I served on two Search retreat crews and then led one as a Crew "Chief," among many other activities. It was a busy few years, but it was more rewarding than I ever possibly could have imagined. My class was a close, respected class, regarded as the "best" that Gonzaga Prep had had in recent years. I say this not to brag, but to emphasize the extent of my relationships that I had nurtured back at home.

Here, at Santa Clara University, I've had to navigate starting over again. From scratch. Super daunting. Super frustrating. Everyone been challenged by this, albeit to differing extents. But as someone who is used to open and friendly relationships, and who had stuck with nearly the same group of people, plus or minus a few, since the age of six, it's been an experience to say the least.

Anyway desiring to get more involved in Campus Ministry, which I loved working with in high school, on the first weekend of February, I attended a retreat offered at Santa Clara University called DISCOVER. Rooted in the Spiritual Exercises of St. Ignatius and covering the topic of discernment, the retreat offered an opportunity to reflect on many of the same questions which we have been discussing over the past few weeks in ELP. Five questions stood out as the most important:

"What brings me joy?"
"What are my gifts?"
"How can I discern my relationships?"
"Who does the world need me to be?"
"What are the costs?"

Going into the retreat, I had been expecting to talk, discuss, and reflect mostly on vocation. What you are called to do, whatever that may be. As someone who is undeclared as toward a major, I wanted answers and I wanted them then. What should I do? I mean, sure, I was conceded to the fact that I probably would not magically stumble upon a major possibility, but I at least hoped that I would be offered some sort of inkling. Some path forward.

The "What"
After the retreat, I suffered a sort of breakdown. Those of you have been on Search/Encounter/Kairos might have experienced something called a "retreat high." This was the anti-Search high, the anti-retreat high. A retreat low, if you will. A totally and completely depressive state surrounding my future, what I was meant to do, and how I was meant to do it.

Upon returning to campus, I tried to allow everything to sink in. I wanted to just accept the fact that I had gotten nothing out of the weekend, and that it had been a total waste of time. I wanted to write it off as "just a good weekend away from campus," and nothing more. I wanted to think of it as a failed retreat that offered little to me, and little to others. But I couldn't. There was something about DISCOVER that had stuck, and I couldn't place my finger on it. And for whatever reason, it depressed me to no end. I was confused, lost, and possibly in need of psychiatric evaluation (I'm kidding, sort of...). I didn't know what I wanted to do with my life or how I would get there. I didn't feel like I had any true friends at Santa Clara University, at least not in the same sense as I had friends at home, which further depressed me. I didn't even really know if this was where I needed to be in my life.

I called my parents, who were, quite frankly, shocked that a retreat could arouse such a negative response. They knew I had been struggling in adapting to the college experience, and in my own indecision (or perhaps genuine unknowing), but I think that this was perhaps my biggest breakdown yet, and they were caught off-guard. I'm really, really close with my mom, so the shift to a school nearly a thousand miles away from home has been extraordinarily challenging. It didn't help that I had just done extremely poorly on a Chemistry midterm and was debating dropping the class.

So as I called/texted/Skype'd/Facebook'ed/generally talked to my parents, tears rolling down by this point, I just wanted to know. I just wanted to know. I wanted to know what my life was meant to be, and I wanted a step-by-step plan to help me get there. The entire experience centered around my lack of answers and my fear of the unknown. Over the course of these four days after DISCOVER, I came to realize that these answers would never come, no matter how much I begged and pleaded. They would not come from my parents, they would not come from a retreat, they would not come from a self-help book, a movie, a song--the answers would not come. Most of all, they wouldn't come from me...at least not directly, overtly through a conscious "decision" in the truest sense.

The "So What"

Rather, I realized that the answers "could not be given to me, because I would not be able to live them." That Rainer Maria Rilke quote, above, which had been passed out on the last day of the retreat, stuck with me. "The point is to live everything." What?

The peaceful stillness of the mountains awaits. Inspired by Sierra Club founder John Muir's famous line--"the mountains are calling and I must go."

I have spent so much of my life planning for or worrying about my future (What can I do that will make myself look favorable for the Stanford application? The Notre Dame application? The Georgetown application? What can I do that will give me a lot of merit-based Financial Aid at Gonzaga? At Santa Clara? At Loyola Marymount?) that I have failed to live in the present. In many ways, the very concept remains foreign to me. How can I even act in such a way that allows me to be cognizant of the future, aware that it remains a detail to consider, a point to bear in mind, yet still keep a solid focus on what makes me who I am. On what brings me joy. On my gifts. On what the world needs me to be. Such thinking is not forward-looking at all, although it is a vocational exercise. It's present-looking.

And that quote...it's also present-looking. Live the questions, indeed, but also, and critically, live your questions. No one else's. Don't be swayed by the opinions or judgments of others, something to which I know now that I am particularly prone. But instead, live your passions. Live what makes you, you. Don't try to be anyone else. The rest will follow accordingly and how it is meant to follow. The most important thing is that you vigorously pursue your passions.

It comes as somewhat of a shock to me that such a supposedly "obvious" idea, one that has been drilled into my brain over and over and over, would be such a depressant. But I realized that I hadn't totally been pursuing my own passions. I realized that I needed to do a better job of letting me be me, and even better, I realized that true happiness, true success, both here at Santa Clara University and in the real world, would not come until I did a better job of being myself. Living more truly the "magis"--the Latin phrase translated from ad majorem dei gloriam and meaning "the more." Living more positively the challenge that I had been given at my high school baccalaureate mass and throughout my high school career.

Ite inflammate omnia. Another Latin phrase, this one meaning, "go forth and set the world on fire." And, well, I don't know if you've noticed, but true "fire" doesn't exactly come from passions, joys, gifts restricted and tied up.

The "Now What"
Moving forward, I'm trying to make a more conscious and constant effort to discern my passions, my gifts, my joys. I sent out a survey to my Facebook friends asking them to respond with my greatest gifts and my greatest weaknesses. The response has been humbling, but, I think, necessary for my self development. It's helped me to realize where my talents truly lie, rather than relying on a potentially skewed view from my own perspective. That's another thing...perspective helps. (Note: if you'd like to participate in my survey, you can do so completely anonymously at this Google Doc.)

I've been trying to recognize which academic areas are truly passions, and which are just my own pandering to outside interests (i.e. friends, parents, culture, society, etc.). Should I really pursue something in the sciences, for example, or are the social sciences more for me? Is there any way to consider double-majoring so as to leave more options open and continue exploring my interests?

I think I've discovered a few of my true passions. Helping people is one. I've always enjoyed community service and leadership opportunities, and direct support for those in need has always been something to which I've strived. But beyond simple and potentially cliché applications of service, I try to build community among those around me, especially among those I know well. I believe that community is one of the foundations of a productive, great, livable society. It's the way that we survive; by coming together and enjoying each other's company, and I love working to build that sense, that appreciation, among the people I serve and with whom I live and learn. Perhaps that's why I'm beginning to think that the social sciences might be a better option for me; such an opportunity would allow me to build my community-building skills from within a certain framework (i.e. Psychology, which would skew toward either research or clinical application, or Political Science or Economics, which would skew toward law, etc.)

That's not to say that it hasn't been a challenge. I'm still struggling to adapt to this new environment. I still don't really know what I want to do with my life. I still question my decisions every day. But I'm confident that I'm on the right path moving forward in living my questions. Living my passions. Living my personal "magis."

Supposedly spoken by St. Ignatius of Loyola to Francis Xavier as he set out for India in 1540, "ite inflammate omnia," or "go forth and set the world on fire," has become a sort of motto, a way of living one's life, for the Jesuits and their sympathizers around the world.

And, with help, from God and from others, I believe that I will be able to embrace my passions, my gifts, my "calling," to truly "go forth and set the world on fire."

Congruence + Values: Brené Brown and the Power of Vulnerability (that is, the Power of Being Open)

Unfortunately, my video--the first one--is super-lengthy, but I can't even begin to express how well I think that they align well with my top values of openness and love. Watch it if you have time; not only is Brené Brown super funny, but she is excellent at getting her point across. If you like it and want more, watch the second video, which, for the first few minutes, actually fits a bit better with what I'm about to say:

We cannot be fully open to other people, to new ideas, to the love that can be shared between people and communities, without allowing ourselves to be vulnerable. That is, we must be open. We must allow ourselves to be seen in the truest light. We must be open to growth, to new possibilities; otherwise, we will maintain possibly-biased and one-sided world views and beliefs. We must let ourselves fail; for if we do not, we will simply float along without ever truly achieving anything. You read that correctly: our biggest achievements are had when we fail. Thomas Edison would be a great example; he went through hundreds of designs before he settled on what later became the traditional incandescent light bulb. What could be more vulnerable than failure?

In sum, and connecting with congruence, I try to live my life by being open to...almost everything. To growth. To other people. To failure. To success. To knowing that I can be wrong. To new possibilities and points of view. I try to welcome my successes and my failures with open arms, because I know that I wouldn't be who I am without both of those experiences. Foremost, however, I try to be open to other people.

And I believe firmly that when we allow ourselves to be vulnerable (that is, when we allow ourselves to be open), we form greater communities, greater friendships, greater bonds than we would otherwise. We build better things, find better answers, and we don't break a sweat. Because we know that no matter what, someone else has also failed, someone else has also lost a friend, someone else has also suffered.

Empathy, community, love, openness, and vulnerability are interconnected and you cannot separate one from the other. And together, they form my number one value.

What do you think?

ESFJ: Or, why it's always so difficult for me to make decisions

This describes in perfect detail the feelings I have when I make a decision. Not even simply while I'm making a decision, but also while after it. For example, is SCU really the right fit for me, even now, after I've been here for a while already? Or does somewhere else still better fit my personality?

ESFJ. ESFJ. Could I really be an ESFJ? Me? Really?

I was initially shocked to discover that my MBTI had labeled me an ESFJ (Extraversion, Sensing, Feeling, Judgment). I had taken the test in high school, and I expected to either again be marked as an ESTJ (Extraversion, Sensing, Thinking, Judgment) or be thrown into something entirely different, like Introversion, for which my association is not high. Alas, such a similar-but-not-similar characterization aroused surprise.

But the thing is, the more I reflected on the idea of ESFJ, the more the category seemed to fit. I do, indeed, take pleasure in the happiness of others. I trust the literal and concrete information gathered by the senses. I take a genuine interest in the well-beings of my friends and family, as well as others. I am vocal about  my sense of right and wrong, but I want to understand varying points of view. My values tend to be based on the good of the social group rather than so much the good of the individual. I like a sense of structure, and I try to create it wherever I can.

These are all great qualities, and ones that I believe describe me well.

But wait, hold on a second...my association with "Feeling" over "Thinking" is only a one-point association? Maybe I am an ESTJ after all! Well, let's see...what do "Thinking" people prefer?

"Heroic Leadership"..."Magis Leadership"? Or, the uniquely Ignatian approach to leadership that anyone can follow

The "Heroic Leadership Model" can best be described as a leadership model that everyone can use; it's more of a way of living one's life than a way of leading. Central to the model is the idea that we should "live for more." That is, we should strive for something greater than ourselves.

While each of the leadership models we have so far discussed has its merits, it turns out that the best leadership model for me remains the Heroic Leadership Model. Outlined by Chris Lowney in his book, Heroic Leadership: Best Practices from a 450-Year-Old Company That Changed the World, the model discusses the various leadership and self-development practices of the Society of Jesus, the Jesuits, over their lengthy and austere history.

Notably, and perhaps most importantly, "Heroic Leadership Model" is a misnomer. In fact, I want to start out by renaming the model for my own purposes so as to better understand its processes. In order to do that, we need to take a quick look at the history of the Jesuits. (Please note that the following is adapted from a short print article entitled "Ignatius and His Exercises" by Barry Barfield.)

In the 1500s, Iñigo of Loyola was a Basque warrior with a love of chivalry and the knightly code of conduct (bravery, honor, gallantry, etc.). Though he was the youngest of thirteen children and it would have thus been the custom of the day for him to become a priest, his worldly exploits quickly put an end to that. Badly wounded by a cannonball in a battle with the French, he suffered two excruciating operations to set his shattered leg. During his recovery, he engaged in numerous vivid daydreams that set about his personal conversion and formed the basis of his work in the Spiritual Exercises, a sort of guidebook toward discernment that has since become a model for meditation used by the Society of Jesus, the religious order which he founded, and other organizations worldwide, both religious and nonreligious.

One of the key movements in the Spiritual Exercises is toward what St. Ignatius called "the magis," best understood as its direct Latin translation: "the more." This could easily be regarded as the sole point of Ignatian spirituality, of Ignatian living: to constantly be striving for "the more"; more thoughtful, open, and loving relationships, more open and direct communication, more of a difference made to our communities, more of a difference made for others, more of everything good in our lives. And importantly, St. Ignatius meant for this to be applied in every aspect of our lives; to him, spirituality was as much about our personal living as it was about our relationships with God.

So I propose that we rename the "Heroic Leadership Model" as the "Magis Leadership Model," the better to understand more deeply the point which Mr. Lowney is attempting to get across in his book.