When two great forces oppose each other, the victory will go to the one who knows how to yield.

LAO TZU

2

How Yield Theory Works

Listen, Validate, Explore Options

The elegance of Yield Theory lies in its simplicity. It works by teaching us how to meet people where they are, connect with them without triggering their natural defenses, and give direct feedback in ways that they can actually hear. It never involves you trying to prove that you’re right, but instead keeps you focused on attempting to understand what others are seeing and feeling, then continually improving the way you communicate.

The core actions of Yield Theory are to listen, to validate, and to explore options. That’s it. Yield Theory is intentionally straightforward, because in the midst of anger and conflict, the last thing you want to do is try to recall a long, complicated list of bullet points and esoteric concepts. It’s pragmatic, effective, and quick.

The greatest actions in life—being kind, helping others, doing the right thing—are not complicated, but just because something is easy to understand doesn’t mean that it’s easy to do. Think about martial arts. If you break down the essence of what even the greatest martial artists in the world do, it’s three things: move, block, and hit. Although just about anyone might intellectually understand the concepts of moving, blocking, and hitting, the way someone like the legendary Bruce Lee actually performed those three actions was absolutely masterful, disciplined, and rooted in a sound system of delivery. So, yes, technically all you do when you’re implementing Yield Theory is listen, validate, and explore options, but how you perform those three actions makes all the difference.

A recurring message you will encounter in this book is that whatever you practice, you master. Whatever you do repeatedly, such as acting impulsively, lashing out in anger, or allowing your emotions to get the best of you, you will master. Just the same, you can practice and master self-awareness, patience, and self-control. You can choose what to practice and therefore what you will eventually master.

Step One: Listen

A great deal of conflict is created and perpetuated by people not listening, so the first and perhaps most crucial step in Yield Theory is to listen. Simply saying the word “listen” isn’t enough to help you understand how to listen effectively, however, because the way you listen is guided by your intention. If you listen, for instance, only to confirm what you think you’ll hear, then your biases will inhibit your understanding. If you listen only to the content of the words others say, rather than taking into consideration how they’re communicating those words, then that, too, will be ineffective. To listen effectively is to lead with humility and genuine curiosity, which reflects to others that you see they are communicating to you from a place you’ve never been and really want to know about—that is, their internal, subjective world, or their “room,” to take the metaphor from the opening story.

The more active listening you do (for example, expressing verbal and nonverbal acknowledgment of what others say), the more you are able to focus on actually hearing what’s being communicated to you. Listening is a skill, and skills can be developed. The following story is the cornerstone for how I teach the skill of listening.

The Box

When my daughter was five years old, she came home from school one day and handed me a religious pamphlet someone had given her. The pamphlet reflected different beliefs from our own but stated, “This is the truth,” so my daughter was confused. She said, “This has to be the truth, right daddy? It says it’s the truth.” So I took her upstairs to her playroom and had her lie down on her stomach on the floor. I put a big box in front of her and had her close her eyes for a minute while I put objects on each side of the box. She was close enough to the box that when she opened her eyes, she could see only one side of it.

When she opened her eyes, she saw a My Little Pony toy that I had set up on the side of the box she was facing. I asked her, “Is it true that there’s a pony on this side of the box?”

She said, “Yes.”

I said, “That’s true, right?”

“Yes.”

I then asked, “Is it true that there are little pony characters on every side of the box?”

She said enthusiastically, “Yes!” even though she couldn’t see the other sides.

Then I had her slide over so that she could see two sides of the box. She discovered there wasn’t another pony, but a little book leaning against the second side. She said, “Oh, I thought there would be a pony!”

I said, “That’s okay, but is it still true that there’s a pony on that other side?”

“Yes.”

“Is it true that there is a book on this side?”

“Yes.”

Then I asked her, “Is it true that there are probably a little pony and a book on the other sides of the box?”

And she said, “Now I don’t know, because I can’t see those sides.” (I was blown away that a five-year-old had the insight to say this.)

I said, “Excellent!” Then I showed her that I had put two entirely different objects on the other sides. I asked her if seeing a book on one side made it any less true that there was a pony on the other side, and she said, “No.” I continued, “It is true that there’s a pony on that one side, and the fact that there are other objects on the other sides of the box doesn’t make it any less true that the pony is still on that one side.” I told her that the people who wrote that pamphlet and followed that path see their side of the box. “What they see might very well be truth to them, but it doesn’t necessarily represent the truth of every side of the entire box.” I told her that the more she understands that, the more she will see why people seem to feel so certain about what they believe. Regarding our own beliefs, I explained that even though we might believe there is no actual box, that, too, is only one perspective or side of the box.

I ended the lesson by quoting the opening lines of the Tao Te Ching to her: “The Tao that can be told is not the eternal Tao. The name that can be named is not the eternal Name.”

The lesson is one we since have named “The Box,” and it is our go-to the moment people express different opinions or perspectives that don’t seem to resonate or make sense to us. We simply say, “They are likely seeing a side of the box that we just don’t see.” We are not omniscient, nor are we supposed to be. Owning our limitations is a sign of humility, and it is the key to listening effectively. Recognizing that others are seeing a different side of the box doesn’t make their side right and your side wrong (or vice versa); it merely helps you to understand the difference in perspective. It also helps us understand why people are so attached to what they believe. If they are standing right up against a particular side of the box, then what they are seeing from their perspective is true for them, which is why they feel so emotionally tied to it. Of course, if you believe that anyone with different opinions from you merely sees one side of the box, whereas you obviously see more sides, then you will allow your ego to inhibit listening effectively.

Listening to others as though they are seeing a side of the box that you cannot see is powerful. It’s transformative. It’s disarming. The reason why it’s so important to listen to others as if they are seeing something that you simply cannot see the entirety of is that if they are talking about their own inner subjective worlds, the reality is, you absolutely cannot see the entirety of what they see. That’s perfectly okay, because others cannot see the entirety of your subjective world either, which is also okay and natural. It’s only our egos that try to convince us we need to “know” what others know. To listen to others as though they see a side of the box that you do not see is to operate from a position of curiosity and humility. When you want to see what others see, and when you genuinely believe that you need others to tell you about their side of the box in order to get a more complete picture, then you will listen openly to them in a way that lowers their defenses and helps them feel safe, which leads to de-escalation.

If you don’t actively listen to the entirety of what others are communicating, you can miss the context and run the risk of not hearing the message. Thomas Edison recalled being a telegraph operator in Cincinnati on the night of April 14, 1865. He said there was a huge crowd gathering outside, and then they heard that President Abraham Lincoln had been shot. The boss told the operators to look over their files, and within a few minutes, a man held up a short account of the shooting of the president. The operator had written down the Morse code message without paying attention to the content of what it said. He “heard” without listening. Imagine taking down, “Lincoln’s been shot!” but not notifying anyone because you weren’t really listening to the message.

Flash forward to your own life. Let’s say you’re interacting with a friend you know well, and that person says something derogatory and inaccurate about you. The more immersed you are in the literal words that are said, the more you miss the larger message and the context in which it’s being delivered. Maybe your friend is struggling immensely, and she lashes out at you because she feels close enough to you that she believes you won’t abandon her if she does. In reality, she could be suffering about something that has nothing to do with you and displacing her pain onto you. Understanding where she’s coming from or why she’s saying what she is doesn’t justify it or excuse it, but it can certainly help you take it less personally and therefore react differently to it. The more you can step back and be open to seeing additional sides of the box beyond your own, the more likely you are to be able to actually see more sides. From a larger perspective, you will have a better chance to hear more than the literal words that are spoken and look at a significantly bigger picture.

Expressing interest in others is one of the greatest entryways to connection we can ever establish. In times of conflict, our instinct often leads us to putting up walls (defenses) to protect ourselves. In fact, when you’re directly involved in conflict (and not just intervening to lessen others’ conflicts), your defensiveness can inhibit you from wanting to listen to or understand others’ perspectives, and understandably so; but Yield Theory is predicated on genuine connection and understanding. It’s about setting aside your ego (the only psychological aspect you’re actually protecting in an argument) and operating from your essence. To listen accurately to others, it’s important to wipe away as many of your own barriers as possible; otherwise you’re listening only for what you want to hear, and you will be too clouded by your biases to actually hear others.

Listening well involves being present, open, and attentive to what others communicate in the moment. The more you focus your energy on being present, the more you can listen with genuine curiosity, rather than getting caught up in what was previously said, listening for what you believe others might say in the future, or—perhaps even less effective—listening for others to stop talking so that you can speak.

One way to be fully present with others and seek to see what they see from their side of the box is to pay attention to the multiple means they use to convey information. People communicate just as much with their body language, facial expressions, and tone of voice as they do with their words. One of the first lessons counselors in training learn is the difference between content and process. Content comprises the actual words people say, whereas process reflects how they say them. To practice discerning between the two, visualize summarizing in one word what people are expressing. For example, regardless of how many words a person might espouse in a given outburst, their one word might be “anger” or “helplessness” or “fear” or “concern.” Think of how frequently the words “I said I’m fine!” have been used in conflict: The content might indicate that the person is okay, but the process obviously suggests they are “hurt” or “upset.”

When you learn to “listen with your eyes” as well as with your ears, you’ll improve your ability to truly hear immeasurably. By observing others, you will have an opportunity to pick up on the energy they are exuding, which is one of the most effective ways to listen. The more you are able to pick up on the incongruence between people’s content and their process, the more accurate validation you can offer in step two. If you want to learn to listen well, the first step is to step back and see others. Yes, there will absolutely be times when the content of what people say is more significant to hear than the process of the way they’re saying it, but as a general rule of thumb, especially in situations of conflict and anger, it’s usually pretty safe to at least start off by paying close attention to process.

So to listen effectively: Start by assuming others are communicating to you from a side of the box you can’t see, and then do your best to set your ego aside and try to see what they’re seeing from their perspective. Then, with genuine curiosity, watch or listen for tone in the way they communicate and deduce a one-word hypothesis. Once you do that, you’ll be prepared to test what you think you’re hearing them communicate in the second step.

Step Two: Validate

To check whether you get what others are saying (that is, your accuracy of listening), the next step is to validate others. Validation involves acknowledging how people feel or verifying that you understand what they’re communicating. To validate is not to condone what others are saying or support what they’re doing; it’s simply to communicate that you understand, to the extent that you can, what they’re expressing about their subjective feelings and perspectives. That’s it.

To validate others, you might say things along the lines of the following phrases. (These phrases are meant to suggest general concepts—the specific words and vernacular have to be authentic and true to you.) The tone of how you communicate makes a world of difference, so as you read these phrases or practice saying them out loud, do so with the utmost compassion and genuine concern.

        •    You seem really upset . . .

        •    You seem furious . . .

        •    It sounds like you feel this in your whole being . . .

        •    It sounds like you feel pretty hurt . . .

        •    It sounds like you’re really frustrated . . .

        •    That has to hurt . . .

        •    I can’t imagine every aspect that must be going through your mind . . .

        •    It’s like this is so overwhelming that it’s the only thing you can even think about right now . . .

        •    I can see you’re frustrated that I don’t seem to be getting what you want me to be getting . . .

        •    You seem disappointed, too . . .

(Anytime you add a word like “too” or “also” at the end of a validation, you minimize the desire for others to correct your exact wording, and you also give them an opportunity to clarify. So they might say in response, “I might be disappointed, but mostly I’m just blown away that they would do that.”)

Of course, these are just some examples of what you can say to offer validation, and they’re framed in the way I speak, but the underlying idea is what’s important: Acknowledge how others feel. The tone of the way you validate is extraordinarily important. For example, because I visualize myself so completely from behind others’ eyes, I often say the phrase, “That sucks” as a validation, but my tone is entirely sincere, as I imagine I am joining with their mind and saying it from their perspective.

You could conceivably say all of those statements above in a sarcastic or harsh tone, and that would not be validating at all. If you say them with authentic humility and compassion, however, each of those statements is a powerful way of showing others that you get what they’re communicating or, at a minimum, are trying to get it. Remember, validation confirms to others that you hear what they’re communicating, so if your tone doesn’t match humble curiosity and isn’t reflective of you leading with compassion, then it’s unwise to expect that your reflections will help de-escalate conflict.

As you will see, one of the most crucial factors in Yield Theory is nonattachment. In validation, practicing nonattachment will help you stay open to listening to others’ perspectives from different sides of the box. In literal terms, that can mean you being open to being corrected at all times. The less attached you are to the statements of validation you offer, the easier you will make it for others to clarify what they’re trying to express and, ultimately, the more likely they are to feel validated. Nonattachment allows you to avoid adding to conflict, because the energy of a nonattached person is much safer to be around than that of someone who demands you fit into their preconceived vision of where you “should” be. In addition, with nonattachment guiding validation, your focus doesn’t have to revolve around constantly clarifying what you meant; instead, it can stay centered on trying to understand others.

Imagine coming home to a loved one who gives you little eye contact, has closed-off body language, and sighs exhaustingly, but when confronted says angrily, “I’m not upset!” You can challenge that response and say, “Yes, you are!” which has the potential to lead to your loved one defending the “I’m not upset!” statement. Or you can yield to the defensiveness and say something along the lines of, “Okay. I’m really sorry I misread that. I would love to know what’s going on, though, because it seems from your body language like something’s going on.”

The goal is not to be right, but to understand. Angry people often operate out of defensiveness, but validation can offer a powerful key to getting around that defensiveness. When you validate, you are able to confirm whether you are accurately hearing and understanding what others want to convey. We are deep and complex beings, and our minds are vast spaces of subjective experience, so knowing that others are at least understanding what we’re communicating is incredibly important for connection.

Accurate validation can at times, in and of itself, provide a sense of healing for others, because it’s a relief to know that someone else gets us, especially when anger or pain is clouding our ability to communicate clearly. Our inner subjective worlds can be lonely places, and when we feel like others cannot understand where we’re coming from (our side of the box), that feeling of isolation can contribute to additional anger and conflict.

Since your perspective drives your approach, I think it’s important to understand just how deeply ingrained our desire to connect with one another is. Although we all could use our space from time to time, and in times of conflict we certainly seem to want more distance from others than in times of joy, the reality is that none of us ever truly wants to be abandoned. So just because someone might want space, that doesn’t mean the person doesn’t want to be understood.

There is an anthropological theory that supports why we want others to get what we’re communicating. In evaluating differences between Neanderthal and Homo sapiens brains, researchers discovered that Neanderthal brains had a larger portion devoted to vision and motor control and a smaller region devoted to social interactions. Combined with a genetic analysis demonstrating that Neanderthals lived in small, isolated groups that had little contact with each other, that information led to the hypothesis that Homo sapiens might have outlived Neanderthals because, to some degree at least, we instinctually recognized the power of the group. In other words, our far and distant ancestors likely realized that greater numbers meant better chance for survival. For the vast majority of the past 300,000-plus years of our existence as a species, being isolated from or kicked out of a group often meant death. So there is some evidence to suggest that perhaps our encoded genetic makeup is the real reason that, even if we do want time or space to ourselves, we tend to want it on our own terms and not have it be imposed on us. But you don’t need anthropologists, psychologists, research, or experts of any kind to tell you what you’ve known since your very first experience of conflict: When you’re angry, you want others to understand why. And just like you, so does everyone else.

Our drive for connection is the reason why solitary confinement is viewed as the harshest punishment that we can inflict on prisoners; being forced to live in isolation is psychologically crippling. Within the framework of our complex neurobiological network is a deeply ingrained desire to avoid banishment from the group. In short, we’re hardwired to need one another. Now, needing others for survival is not the same as needing them to understand our frustrations, but our brains’ amygdalae don’t discern between the two, and in times of conflict, no matter how angry people get, they still have that instinctual drive to connect, which often translates into a pretty strong desire to be understood. Although we might not ever be able to be fully understood (in chapter 10, I discuss the detriment of saying things like, “I completely understand”), the reality is that we very much want others to at least try to understand where we’re coming from, especially when we’re angry.

So people want you to be interested in what they’re communicating, and in times of conflict, that desire to be understood is amplified. Sometimes people want to express their anger to you, and other times they want to express their anger toward you (the nonattachment component of Yield Theory teaches you how to avoid taking things personally). Regardless of whatever others want, the more you can listen accurately to what they’re expressing and respect their right to feel however they do, the more emotionally safe they will feel around you, and the more likely it is that they will be drawn to connect with you. What I hope to be able to convey in writing is just how quickly that connection can happen when you approach others from a genuine place of nonattachment, nonjudgment, humility, and curiosity. The more others connect with you through your validations, the more they’ll be prepared to explore options with you.

The challenge, of course, is knowing when to offer connection, when to back off, and when to move to the third step of exploring options. Again, the key to finding that balance lies in validation. To validate is to acknowledge where a person is emotionally. As you will see with the fundamental component of acceptance, knowing where people are emotionally (and intellectually) is critical to being able to meet them there. Because emotions are ever-changing states, assessing where others are is a constant process. For now, it’s important to understand that the primary purpose of validation is connection.

The most essential rule of thumb, from a Yield Theory perspective, is to imagine yourself actually being that other person. The more you put yourself in others’ shoes, the more authentic your validations will be. To improve how you validate, keep your statements fairly general (for example, “You seem really angry/hurt/frustrated/disappointed . . .”). When you keep your reflections vague, you leave room for the other person to fill in the blank accurately. If you guess inaccurately at the emotion you’re sensing, you’re likely to add defensiveness or a feeling that you’re just not getting what the person is saying. Plus being unattached to what you’re perceiving can make others feel safe and more likely to open up to you. In fact, it’s crucial to use less attached language for that reason alone. I tend to use phrases like “It seems like . . .” or “I wonder if . . .” or “It sounds like . . .” because the less certain I am with my language, the less rigid I am, and the more room I have for flexibility if the person tells me I’m off base. Because so much anger revolves around rigidity, approaching validation with a softness gives others little to resist.

There are reasons it’s important to be open to being wrong. If you attempt to validate a highly resistant person, even if you are accurate, that person might tell you that you’re wrong; not getting caught up in proving that you’re right will circumvent that potential argument. Second, conflict causes confusion, and you cannot actually see into others’ phenomenological worlds, so the truth is you might actually be wrong. Either way, approaching validation with humility is critical. When you’re open to seeing that you might be wrong in your validation or that even if you’re right the person might not be prepared to have their emotions identified just yet, then you remain in a position of continuously seeking to understand. Humble curiosity goes a long way in bridging gaps during conflict.

Since the primary goal of Yield Theory is to circumvent others’ fight-or-flight response, perhaps the most important reason to validate is that it opens up a metaphorical valve through which a person’s emotions can be channeled. Remember that when we’re emotional, there is greater energy in the limbic system (the emotional center located toward the middle of our brains), specifically in the amygdala. When we’re less emotional, that energy is freed up to move to the front part of our brain—the frontal cortex, the seat of our higher-level thinking and decision-making. The more we’re in our frontal cortex (as opposed to the limbic system), the more prepared we are neurologically to explore as many options as we can. In other words, once you help angry people get their emotions out, they are much more ready to explore potential options of “where do we go from here” with you.

My golden rule in validation is this: Do not just validate until you think the other person is validated; validate until the other person actually feels validated. I call it “draining the limbic system.” Imagine that a person’s limbic system is filled with water and connected to a faucet. If you were to turn on the faucet only briefly, it wouldn’t be long enough to drain all the water out. Imagine further that as long as there is water in the limbic system, the frontal cortex cannot work properly. So in order to help that person make better decisions, you would have to fully drain the limbic system. In other words, you cannot just turn the faucet on until you think the water is drained out, you have to leave it on until it actually is drained out.

It’s tough to simultaneously defend what you’re hearing and be open to listening. Understand that it’s only your ego that wants to prove that you did validate the person; your essence is willing to continue to evaluate where that person is in each given moment. When you can approach conflict with the intention of genuinely wanting to listen to what others have to say, as well as make the effort to validate what they’re communicating, your actions demonstrate that you’re willing to set your ego aside in favor of the kind of listening that embodies compassion. Interestingly, you will find that the sooner others actually feel heard, the sooner they are likely to drop their defenses and the more quickly the interaction will move from striking against one another to striking with one another—to finding solutions, or what I call “exploring options.”

Step Three: Exploring Options

Anytime we’re emotional, we have a difficult time seeing the bigger picture. Think of it this way: If an object smashes into your shin and causes you physical pain, it’s difficult in those next few moments to think of anything other than that shin pain. Likewise, when we’re struggling emotionally, it’s tough to see anything outside of whatever pressing emotions are present. This is especially true with anger. Anger narrows our focus. In the heat of conflict, we are significantly less likely to be able to see just how many options we have. That is why it’s so important to actually circumvent people’s fight-or-flight response, because the goal is to get to the place where you can actually figure out what to do from where you and they are.

Whereas listening and validating help break down and eventually release negative feelings, exploring options helps you direct people through the problem-solving aspect of the dilemma. The more intentional you are from the outset with the three core actions (with your primary goal being to connect with others and help them steer themselves down a different path), the easier it will be for you to avoid taking others’ struggles personally. And the less personally you take other people’s pain, the less defensive you’ll be, which will make it easier for you to remain calm and centered. Then, in the act of exploring options, you can draw on every ounce of creativity you have to set up others to make less impulsive decisions and grow from the conflict at hand.

Probably the most important thing to know about exploring options is that no matter the number of realistic options people in conflict might have, the best strategy is to begin exploring the one that’s immediately on the table. Even if the option seems extreme, if a person sees it as viable, then it’s an option. Considering an option does not mean endorsing it. For example, if a teenager says he wants to punch his teacher in the face, then that’s an option. It might not be the option I endorse, and there will certainly be consequences if he follows through with it, but nonetheless, I would not tell him that he cannot do that, because the reality is, it is an option. Denying it as an option would be the opposite of a Yield Theory approach. So I would explore his impulsive thought. I would listen to his perspective, validate his anger, and verbally play out what might happen if he followed through with his instinct. Punching his teacher is not what I would want him (or anyone) to do, so it’s not in any way something I would condone, but I recognize that it’s unwise to avoid acknowledging the reality of what someone is considering. As I join with him, however, he can start to drop his defenses and examine that impulsive, reckless option in a safe psychological space, opening himself to my helping him honestly evaluate that option. The more clearly he sees the future play out, the more likely he is to make a better decision.

Telling people that something they’re thinking is not an option is invalidating, and telling angry people that something they’re thinking is not an option actually only makes that option more tempting. We have an inherent drive to be free, so when we’re told we cannot do something, it’s a fairly common response to rail against that, especially if we’re already feeling defensive or, worse, aggressive. Again, the goal of Yield Theory is to circumvent the fight-or-flight response, not elicit it, and if something’s an option, it’s an option, and the sooner you acknowledge it without judgment, the sooner you can explore the realistic outcomes of what might happen if the person follows through with it, as well as moving on to considering alternative options.

Exploring options completely expands the reach of Yield Theory. It’s the space in which you can mindfully and creatively help to bring conscious education to others. When you’re authentic and you accept others for who and where they are, and when you lead with compassion and are unattached to what you present others, people will be significantly more receptive to the conscious information you bring them. The core action of exploring options opens the door to presenting information from literally any angle. In subsequent chapters, I’ll show you how you can draw on pragmatic techniques (from metaphors to practical strategies) that spark insight and change—and you’ll see that all of them are applicable in the phase of exploring options.

Yield Theory’s three core actions of listening, validating, and exploring options provide the fundamentals for approaching any conflict. In the next chapters we’ll explore the seven fundamental components, or practices. As you fully integrate the seven fundamental components, you will see that Yield Theory is an extremely efficient approach that will help you connect with others quickly and move through conflict in an effective way. As with any other skill to master, practice is the key.

Once a prominent leader went to a famous Zen artist and asked him to draw a picture of his beloved cat. The artist told the man to come back for the drawing in a month. When the statesman returned, the artist sent him away, saying that he wasn’t ready and that he should come back after six months. Perturbed, but resolved to have a picture from this famed artist, the man went away. When he came back after six months, the artist again sent him away, saying he needed a full year to complete the task. Now this statesman was an important person, and important people don’t like to wait, so he was visibly angry when he agreed to come back after a year.

When the man returned a year later, the artist said, “Okay, I’m ready.” He pulled out a pencil and a blank sheet of paper, and in minutes he drew the most beautiful, striking, and perfect resemblance of the man’s cat. The man was blown away by how beautiful the picture was, but he was more than confused as to why he had to wait so long when obviously this artist could draw such perfection in a matter of minutes. In fact, the more he thought about it, the more upset he got, until finally he angrily asked, “Why did you make me wait so long when it didn’t even take you that long to do?” To which the Zen artist simply smiled and walked over to his closet door. When he opened it, out fell thousands of drawings . . . of cats.

What takes moments to do in mastery has taken many more in practice. As with the master artist who drew thousands of drawings of the statesman’s cat before he could draw the cat masterfully on the spot, the more you practice seeing the world through other people’s eyes, listening, validating, and exploring options, the more effective you will be at doing so without much effort at all.

You don’t have to wait until you face conflict to begin practicing the three-step process of listening, validating, and exploring options—or applying what you’re about to learn regarding the seven fundamental components in the following pages. In fact, you can begin practicing seeing the world through other people’s eyes right now and immediately increase your empathy.

Think about any one person in the world. It can be someone you love, someone who irks you to no end, or even someone you’ll never encounter, but picture that person right now as clearly as you possibly can. Imagine what it might be like to be that person. Imagine what life experiences might have led that person to being in the exact spot where you’re imagining them to be right now. Think, too, as though you are not only behind that person’s eyes but also thinking with that person’s brain. Imagine clearly all the life experiences that led to the moment that you are envisioning.

As that person, what do you see? As that person, what do you feel? Again, the question is not what you want the person to see or feel, but what you imagine that person actually does see and feel. This is the foundational exercise of Yield Theory. Like the master artist from the teaching tale, the more you practice attempting to see the world from other people’s perspectives, the more quickly you’ll be able to draw that picture in your mind from the instant you interact with them. The goal is not to eschew your own perspective in favor of others’, but to understand clearly where others are coming from in every given situation.

Summary

The way Yield Theory works is straightforward: You attempt to see the world from others’ perspectives and then listen, validate, and explore options. These three core actions are simple to articulate but take considerable intentional practice to master. To listen to others through the paradigm of Yield Theory is to imagine them on the other side of the box, to acknowledge that they are perpetually seeing a side that you cannot see (that is, their inner, subjective worlds), and to focus on constantly trying to understand. As you listen with genuine interest and humility, the next step is to validate, communicating what you think you hear others saying and confirming or adjusting your understanding through their responses. Once you have “drained the limbic system” of anger, you can move toward striking together with others to find the best possible solutions from the present moment forward. Listening, validating, and exploring options can help you walk directly through any conflict you encounter.