Crossing our Fingers and Eating Donuts

After almost 2 weeks of server problems and related email feed problems, I’m pleased to announce that we are close to being 100% functional — at least in the website department. In anticipation of the last piece coming into focus, hopefully at 5 a.m. on Thursday, August 28, I’d like to treat you to a donut. Similar to this one:

Here’s the catch. My email feed has to work tomorrow at 5 a.m. by sending this post to my joeycope.com subscription list. If it works, I’ll buy a couple of dozen donuts and provide the real thing to any of you who comes by the office in the morning.

So, if you’re on the list and you’re reading this on your email Thursday morning and you live within driving distance of Abilene, come on by 1541 North Judge Ely for a donut. If you’re not on the list, maybe you should sign up tonight. Use the form on the lower right of this page.

And, if you can’t come by, just enjoy the virtual donut above.

 

(The other good thing is that, if this works, I’ll no longer be staying up hours after my bedtime trying to find the problem. And, I’ll catch up on those posts about our Africa trip. Thanks to Brad Palmore at Branchweaver — unless this doesn’t work.)

It’s a Question of Style

Recently I was a participant in a training for a very specialized interview technique. As we listened to the background and the purpose for the methods we were to learn, I immediately began connecting with my previous training and experience as a mediator.

We were asked to come up with five great questions that we could use to build momentum in the interview. I wrote five questions. I have to confess; I didn’t write five different questions. In fact, I didn’t write two.

I wrote five versions of the same question.

In my estimation, each one was an improvement on the previous. Some were more succinct. Others were more elegant. Number Five was pretty close to perfect . . . in my estimation.

So, when my turn came, I offered my question.

Scarcely had my mouth closed when another trainee, a veteran of dozens of these trainings, offered constructive criticism. I had begun my question with “Tell me about a moment  . . .”

“Never say ‘Tell me,'” he offered. “Doing that places the emphasis on you instead of the person you are interviewing.” He and the instructor then went on to offer alternatives.

Dutifully, I wrote them down. It hasn’t been twenty-four hours and I’ve revisited that advice a dozen times.

And, I now firmly believe that advice was wrong — at least for me.

I understand the higher purpose of placing the other person in a place of prominence where your attention is riveted on her story. Yet, it misses the very important element of relationship between the two people in the conversation.

When I ask you to “tell me about” something important to you, I invite you to deepen our relationship. I enlist your partnership in the conversation. In this time of disengagement from others and intentional isolation, people are searching for others who care enough to connect.

So, the next time we sit down for coffee and you say, “Tell me about your day . . .”, I’ll be smiling. I’m sitting with someone who wants to share information and relationship.

 

Stuck on You: Attachment Theory & Resolution – Part 2

Trust me. Trust. Me.

Even in the most sterile of business transactions, trust is the hinge the entire deal swings on. Broken trust is the fuel that feeds the flames of conflict.

In Part 1 of this series, we highlighted two separate, yet related, concerns of mediation parties and their attorneys: trust and the exploration of emotions.

The primary concern is that of trust. How do we come to trust the words and the actions of the other party? This is particularly difficult when the lack of trust is what propelled the dispute into mediation.

The second concern touches on control. Yet it most often surfaces in an expression of fear regarding the exploration of emotions by the parties during mediation. “I’m afraid I will grow emotional and say something I shouldn’t . . . I’m afraid my client will, in an emotional state, make poor decisions about settlement.”

Recent research suggests that peacemakers can learn much about reconciliation by studying the ways that relationships form. Some of our earliest ties to others are explained through the theory of attachment.

Edward John Mostyn Bowlby was the fourth of six children born to an upper, middle class, London family. John was raised primarily by his nanny. Except for the summer months, John and his siblings spent only an hour a day with their mother. In that societal echelon, parents were inclined to limit their attention and affection in an effort to avoid spoiling children.

As John would later report, his nanny’s decision to leave the family when he was four years old, had much the same effect as the loss of a mother. With his own experience, a special interest in child development, and with his background in psychology and psychiatry, Dr. John Bowlby became increasingly interested in the effect on children resulting from separation from familiar people. World War II had greatly increased the occurrence of such separation of children from significant adults. Dr. John Bowlby was a front-row observer of the effects of these separations.

Dr. Bowlby’s theory of attachment is founded on the concept that an infant needs to develop a relationship with at least one primary caregiver. If that relationship fails to materialize, the child is at risk in her or his social and emotional development. The attachment is instinctive and carries with it the quest for survival.

Psychologically, attachment brings security. Security, in turn, sets the stage for trusting interaction. An infant attaches to its primary caregiver or caregivers and experiences security through close proximity. As the child seeks to broaden its social horizons, the attachment relationship provides a safe haven from which to explore other relationships and situations.

As children grow, the gravity of attachment lessens as the attachment relationship is negotiated. Many a parting conversation at daycare sounds something like, “You stay here and play with your friends. I’ll be back to get you right after work.” Over time, the goal of the attachment behavioral system is less about proximity and more about availability. As long as the primary caregiver is available in times of stress and fatigue, longer periods of separation become possible as the child develops independence.

Regardless of the stage, attachment and security in special relationships revolves around either proximity or availability of significant people. As individuals mature, the need for a close relationship with a primary caregiver fades. But those relationships are often replaced by essential ties with trusted friends and loved ones. Just as with children and primary caregivers, these areas of working trust become safe havens for contemplation and exploration of other opportunities. And, perhaps more importantly, maintenance of stability in increasingly complex life situations.

But what happens when these attachments are ruptured?

In the next segment of this series, we’ll take a look at a significant cause of loss of trust and the resulting conflict among individuals in a wide range of relationships — the attachment injury.

In mediation, parties have an opportunity to rebuild trust even when the injury to a relationship has cut deeply. Yet they must be allowed to deal openly with their underlying feelings and emotions.

Trust me. Trust. Me.

 

Sources:

Bretherton, I. & Munholland, K.A. (1999). “Internal working models in attachment relationships: A construct revisited.” In Cassidy, J. & Shaver P.R. Handbook of Attachment: Theory, Research and Clinical Applications. New York: Guilford Press.

Cassidy, J. (1999). “The nature of a child’s ties.” In Cassidy J. & Shaver P.R. Handbook of Attachment: Theory, Research and Clinical Applications. New York: Guilford Press.

 

Stuck on You: Attachment Theory & Resolution – Part 2

Trust me. Trust. Me.

Even in the most sterile of business transactions, trust is the hinge the entire deal swings on. Broken trust is the fuel that feeds the flames of conflict.

In Part 1 of this series, we highlighted two separate, yet related, concerns of mediation parties and their attorneys: trust and the exploration of emotions.

The primary concern is that of trust. How do we come to trust the words and the actions of the other party? This is particularly difficult when the lack of trust is what propelled the dispute into mediation.

The second concern touches on control. Yet it most often surfaces in an expression of fear regarding the exploration of emotions by the parties during mediation. “I’m afraid I will grow emotional and say something I shouldn’t . . . I’m afraid my client will, in an emotional state, make poor decisions about settlement.”

Recent research suggests that peacemakers can learn much about reconciliation by studying the ways that relationships form. Some of our earliest ties to others are explained through the theory of attachment.

Edward John Mostyn Bowlby was the fourth of six children born to an upper, middle class, London family. John was raised primarily by his nanny. Except for the summer months, John and his siblings spent only an hour a day with their mother. In that societal echelon, parents were inclined to limit their attention and affection in an effort to avoid spoiling children.

As John would later report, his nanny’s decision to leave the family when he was four years old, had much the same effect as the loss of a mother. With his own experience, a special interest in child development, and with his background in psychology and psychiatry, Dr. John Bowlby became increasingly interested in the effect on children resulting from separation from familiar people. World War II had greatly increased the occurrence of such separation of children from significant adults. Dr. John Bowlby was a front-row observer of the effects of these separations.

Dr. Bowlby’s theory of attachment is founded on the concept that an infant needs to develop a relationship with at least one primary caregiver. If that relationship fails to materialize, the child is at risk in her or his social and emotional development. The attachment is instinctive and carries with it the quest for survival.

Psychologically, attachment brings security. Security, in turn, sets the stage for trusting interaction. An infant attaches to its primary caregiver or caregivers and experiences security through close proximity. As the child seeks to broaden its social horizons, the attachment relationship provides a safe haven from which to explore other relationships and situations.

As children grow, the gravity of attachment lessens as the attachment relationship is negotiated. Many a parting conversation at daycare sounds something like, “You stay here and play with your friends. I’ll be back to get you right after work.” Over time, the goal of the attachment behavioral system is less about proximity and more about availability. As long as the primary caregiver is available in times of stress and fatigue, longer periods of separation become possible as the child develops independence.

Regardless of the stage, attachment and security in special relationships revolves around either proximity or availability of significant people. As individuals mature, the need for a close relationship with a primary caregiver fades. But those relationships are often replaced by essential ties with trusted friends and loved ones. Just as with children and primary caregivers, these areas of working trust become safe havens for contemplation and exploration of other opportunities. And, perhaps more importantly, maintenance of stability in increasingly complex life situations.

But what happens when these attachments are ruptured?

In the next segment of this series, we’ll take a look at a significant cause of loss of trust and the resulting conflict among individuals in a wide range of relationships — the attachment injury.

In mediation, parties have an opportunity to rebuild trust even when the injury to a relationship has cut deeply. Yet they must be allowed to deal openly with their underlying feelings and emotions.

Trust me. Trust. Me.

 

Sources:

Bretherton, I. & Munholland, K.A. (1999). “Internal working models in attachment relationships: A construct revisited.” In Cassidy, J. & Shaver P.R. Handbook of Attachment: Theory, Research and Clinical Applications. New York: Guilford Press.

Cassidy, J. (1999). “The nature of a child’s ties.” In Cassidy J. & Shaver P.R. Handbook of Attachment: Theory, Research and Clinical Applications. New York: Guilford Press.

 

My Own Medicine – Day Three

I had planned to plan for my meeting.

The phone call was made that put things in motion. Eventually, fifteen minutes was set aside for later in the afternoon. Good. I had time to release anger and to plan.

But life happened and I had to attend to this detail and that. When the chime on my phone warned me that the appointment was ten minutes away, I sat down purposefully to prepare. And, at that moment, I saw his car turn into our parking lot. My time for planning and rehearsing was gone and the moment was here!

As I walked toward the lobby to meet him, I realized that something had happened. A quick look back in my memory and I realized that, in answer to earlier prayer, my anger had slipped away about the time I tapped his number into my phone that morning.

Our meeting was to be short. He had another appointment close by. I felt no personal anxiety as I sat across the table from him. We exchanged pleasantries and then I grasped for the one expectation I had managed to solidify.

“I want to honor your time. So let me just say, I’ve asked for this meeting so that I can apologize and ask for your forgiveness.”

His eyes grew wider and his face, already pleasant, became more so. He sat patiently as I explained how I had judged him almost 20 years before. And then, I detailed how I had allowed that judgment to color everything that he did or said since.

He was gracious in his forgiveness. Because of my actions and withdrawal, he had not really been aware of the tension I felt. We talked about things in general. I told him that there were some present matters that I disagreed with him on and we would have opportunities to talk. But I promised that I would never allow my past judgments to interfere with honest discussions.

I teach others about this moment. Yet here I was with this glorious instant unfolding. Now, in this day three, I am committing to continued conversation bolstered by my pledge to discard old and worn judgments. With the self-imposed anger gone, I’ve started to realize that those things that I’m in disagreement with could well have solutions close by.

I may revisit this self-medication topic. For now, please know that I understand that reclaiming a friendship is not accomplished with a three-day injection — even with the best of medicine. Reconciliation is a life-time pursuit.