In recent years, I’ve come to think of communication as the imperceptible threads we weave between us with every interaction we carry out, regardless of whether they are intentional or random, by design or by default. Intangible as they may be, these threads are powerful, equally capable of creating connection and of building barriers.
In the hospital, communication is as essential as it is undervalued. Physicians receive little to no formal communication training and yet our ability to communicate clearly, compassionately, and effectively plays a huge part in our capacity to deliver patient care, whether its’s during a code, while discussing treatment options, or when conveying difficult news.
With this in mind, I registered for a twelve week long intensive course in nonviolent communication (NVC). I wasn’t entirely sure I could make it work- my son was two months old at the time and we were still figuring out the logistics of our newly expanded family- but something told me it was worth the attempt. That course ended this week, leaving behind a nonviolent communication shaped hole in my heart and a few extra hours a week in my schedule. And while we still haven’t figured out the Tetris game that is life with three children (not as fun as the Gameboy version, but equally maddening), the course turned out to be among the most instructive experiences I’ve had, one that has transformed how I think about and approach communication.
So, this week, I thought I would share seven key takeaways I gained from my NVC experience.*
1. We have so much more in common than we think.
Almost everyone has a backstory that connects us in some way. These backstories are, for the most part, invisible. My NVC course was made up of an international group of people living in at least eight different countries, from very different backgrounds, professions, circumstances, and stages in life. And yet, every communication exercise we did together revealed a shared experience. There was always someone in the group that could strongly resonate with what I had thought was unique to my circumstances and that knowledge profoundly altered how we related to each other. In another setting, I would never have known these stories. For better or for worse, we don’t wear our experiences like sandwich boards for the world to see.
This realization changes how I walk through the world. People are less other. There are far more friends I just haven’t befriended yet. I am less inclined to judge. (Still inclined. But less.)
2. Communication is not a tool.
I used to think of communication as a tool, a means to an end, a way of moving towards a specific outcome with the person I was interacting with. My NVC experience made me realize that communication is not a tool. More often than not, the outcome is not the point, the connection is. If my goal in communicating is to ensure my own objectives are met, I’m not actually communicating, I’m maneuvering.
We all know what it’s like to be so focused on our own thoughts and where we want the conversation to go next that we don’t fully hear what the other person is saying. We also know what it’s like to be on the receiving end of that conversation. Ultimately, no one’s needs have been met. We’ve successfully built a bridge to nowhere. Real communication requires active listening. And active listening requires managing the natural tendency to follow our thoughts and emotions away from the other person and back onto the island of our own endlessly absorbing minds.
3. We tend to create binaries where there are none.
We either judge someone or we endorse them. We are either all in or we give up. We’re either a supermom or a total failure as a parent. We are either pushing our career forward or falling behind. It makes sense. Binaries make it so much easier to sort things into boxes (and you know I love sorting things into boxes.) But in doing so we transform a rainbow of options into just black or white (which, as my seven-year-old has informed me, are not colors at all).
When practicing communication scenarios with my group, they would often help me uncover a greater range of possible responses to a given situation than I had considered. We can feel angry and still empathize with someone else’s feelings. We can draw clear boundaries without shutting someone out altogether. We can hold people accountable and still handle them with care. We can request things even when we don’t expect them to be granted. Letting go of binaries helps us begin to see ourselves and each other as the three dimensional beings we really are and it is in that awareness that real communication becomes possible.
4. Sometimes I can’t give empathy until I’ve gotten empathy.
I would love to be a more enlightened human being. I’m working on it. But let me tell you, progress is slow and my natural inclination to be reactive is quick to rear its ugly head. The goal in communicating with the intent to connect is to bring true empathy to our counterpart. Even so, when we are hurting, that may not be realistic.
Sometimes, we just need some empathy first. We may need to make space for our feelings as they come up: our anger, our frustration, our disappointment, our unease. It can be hard not to label these as negative and push them from us, particularly when, as women, we’ve been socialized to do exactly that. But meeting ourselves where we are with compassion rather than judgement is the first step in being able to bring that same compassion to others. We can learn to do this for ourselves or, even better, we can learn to do it for each other. Which brings me to my next takeaway.
5. We could all use an empathy buddy.
What is an empathy buddy? Anyone who is willing to listen with compassion and without judgement to something I choose to share. Many of us have someone like this in our lives: a close friend, our partner, a sibling. But imagine if we had an empathy buddy at work?
As doctors, we sometimes think we have to be superhuman. The needs we face can be so consuming it feels like there’s no room to add any of our own to the mix. It can feel downright unprofessional to be human. And yet we need full access to our humanity to do what we do (see Number Four). So, imagine if, before going in to speak with a family that is refusing essential care for their child or interacting with a colleague who keeps questioning our medical management or delivering bad news to a patient, we could sit down with someone for five minutes and have them just listen to what is coming up inside of us. Without judgement, without advice, without the intent to fix, educate or absolve. To have them say instead: I see you. I get it. This is hard. You’re not alone.
6. Nothing is about me.
In interactions, I tend to think everything is about me when in fact, almost nothing is. All the world may be a stage, but we are all starring in our own plays. I make constant assumptions that other people’s behaviors reflect what I am getting right or doing wrong. In reality, I’m just a side show to the other person’s main event, one that I often don’t even know is taking place. That realization can be disappointing or liberating, depending on how you look at it. What I have found is that it relieves me of the burden of responsibility for other people’s feelings and reactions, which frees me up to take responsibility for my own.
7. No isn’t the end of the conversation, it’s the beginning.
This may be my favorite lesson. I used to feel so shut down by ‘no’ that half the time I didn’t risk asking the question. Right along with that unfortunate tendency to create binaries (see Number Three), I believed that ‘no’ meant ‘No, full stop, end of story’. I’ve since learned that ‘no’ can mean a whole range of things. It can mean ‘not now’, ‘not yet’, ‘not me’, ‘not completely’, ‘not like that’. When I see ‘no’ as the beginning of the conversation, it becomes an opportunity to identify the barriers to ‘yes’. Understanding this helps me honor another person’s no and still dare to ask the question. As Oprah says, “You get in life what you have the courage to ask for.”
And who am I to argue with Oprah?
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*Disclaimer: I am obviously not a Nonviolent Communication trainer; these are the lessons I personally take away and aren’t intended as any kind of formal NVC instruction. For anyone who is interested in learning more, there is a wealth of amazing resources: workshops, practice groups, online lectures, books, etc. My online course was through Empathic Way Europe, if you would like to know more about it feel free to get in touch!
And hey, speaking of communication- if you liked this article why not share it with a friend? It really helps me build connection, and that’s what this blog is all about. Thanks!