Integration

Integration enables us to be flexible and free; the lack of such connections promotes a life that is either rigid or chaotic, stuck and dull on the one hand or explosive and unpredictable on the other. With the connecting freedom of integration comes a sense of vitality and the ease of well-being.

~Dr. Daniel Siegel

What is the next phase of human evolution? The answer will not be found by returning to some idealized version of harmonious tribal life (even if we could), but neither does it live in further separation from each other, the world, and our very selves. We may have moved beyond the limitations of living as one, but where we have arrived today on the journey of human development now brings tremendous disconnection, causing loneliness, pain and disillusionment.

And so there is a pull to finding a place of belonging, which for some of us has meant getting lost in a group identity, dividing ourselves by religion, politics, ethnicity, and many other ways. While this can indeed provide a feeling of community, any sort of divisive us/them way of viewing the world is in reality a step backward in our evolution.

We believe that the way forward can be found instead on the path of integration. And by integration we mean, as neuroscientist Dr. Dan Siegel defines it, “the linkage of differentiated elements.” The time has come to resolve the paradox, to move out of the “either/or” world we have lived in far too long. We must link again—our very souls require it—but as the unique, powerful, “differentiated” beings we were meant to be.

In this chapter we’ll look at integration from a big picture perspective; in subsequent chapters we’ll explore the many ways the philosophy, processes, and tools of the Co-Active model help us create integration with ourselves, each other, and our world.

There is one thing stronger than all the armies in the world, and that is an idea whose time has come.

~Victor Hugo

Integration feels very much like an idea whose time has come. We love Siegel’s definition of integration as “the linkage of differentiated elements” because it provides the perfect road map to work from as we explore a tremendously powerful idea, one that we believe may even point us to a new chapter in our human story.

Linkage is the connection of separate components to one another. Differentiation is the process by which parts of a system become specialized, unique, and individualized in their growth and development. The next phase of human evolution is one in which we master integration—retaining our uniqueness while at the same time connecting at a deep and profound level with ourselves, each other, as communities, and with the generative power of the universe itself.

We have been socialized to believe in polarities, that we live in an “either/or” world, one which can be sorted and graded. We love to discuss and debate the value of various political systems, genders, neighborhoods, religions, lifestyles, or computer operating systems (just to name a few), endlessly arguing over which is better, hoping for some understandable and final ranking, some proof that our own opinion is best.

If we are artists, we may revel in an open flow of creativity and possibility, sometimes feeling disdainful of those we consider “too linear.” If we are accountants or lawyers, we may enjoy our ability to make sense of things and put them in order, sometimes despairing of what we consider a woeful lack of focus and practicality exhibited by those we consider “too scattered” or “unrealistic.”

In talking about the seductive nature of polarity thinking with some colleagues recently, one of them had this insight to share: “When I’m caught in it and can reflect back, I think there is a satisfaction that comes from the familiarity of choosing between two relatively known aspects, even if they are both unsatisfying, rather than opening up to all the possibilities of the unknown, which is where most of the magic happens. I have a sense that our little untrained brains typically see uncertainty as impending doom instead of greeting it with ‘whoo hoo’ and ‘yippee!’”

As humans, we have long been at war both with each other and with ourselves, endlessly comparing our own views, habits, and beliefs to those of others, and in the process inevitably confronting a sense of deficiency, be it in ourselves or the other. Integration, on the other hand, says there is room for both sides in any polarity, if we let go of needing to make one aspect right or better, and the other wrong or worse. Integration points us to finding the value in every part of ourselves and each other, especially as we grow, develop and change.

One of our friends, an artist and a coach, recently began studying the brain. “I never liked my logical side before this,” he said. “I thought if I paid attention to it I would lose my creativity and inspiration. I realized I was holding it as an either/or thing. Now I see I can use both—in fact that I am always using both—and the key is not one or the other, but flowing back and forth with ease. I have a huge new respect for my whole brain now!”

Integration calls us to stand comfortably in paradox. To know and value each part of a system, and also continually work to link the parts together.

Only connect! That was the whole of her sermon. Only connect the prose and the passion, and both will be exalted, and human love will be seen at its height. Live in fragments no longer.

~EM Forster

As we explored previously, for much of human history, we were profoundly linked in small kin groups—perhaps, in the earliest times, even moving and knowing as one entity, like a flock of birds flowing through the sky together, or a school of fish evading a predator. We still carry this tribal knowing of each other within us as protection and connection on the most basic level.

For example, we can, like dogs, smell fear (although we are generally not consciously aware we are doing so), and our own bodies respond as if we ourselves are afraid. Studies ranging from the US Department of Defense to the University of the Netherlands have found that we react to fear-induced sweat differently than exercise-induced sweat, even when it is not possible to actively identify a difference in odor. In the case of fear (the most measured, although some studies have also looked at disgust and other emotions), fMRI scans show increased amygdala activation in non-threatened volunteer “sniffers” of stress-induced sweat in one study, and saliva taken from the volunteer sniffers in another study showed increased adrenalin and cortisol, both of which are markers of stress. Through smell, our own bodies experience the emotions of those around us.

There is also significant research on what are called “mirror neurons,” which point to this fundamental ability to know and feel each other as well. A mirror neuron is one that fires both when an animal acts and when the animal observes the same action performed by another. Thus, the neuron “mirrors” the behavior of the other, as though the observer were itself acting. Many researchers argue that mirror neurons may be important for understanding the actions of other people, and for learning new skills by imitation. Mirror neuron systems in the human brain may help us understand the actions and intentions of other people and may serve as the neural basis of the human capacity for emotions such as empathy.

This area of study is very new in the field of neuroscience, and thus what mirror neurons can and cannot do is still the subject of much research and debate. The question of how and why we respond in synch with one another is fascinating, and there is certainly more to be discovered.

But even if it turns out that mirror neurons are not responsible for empathy and our sense of feeling one another’s feelings, we know that we also mirror each other physically in many subtle ways, and this impacts our own internal biochemistry. Psychological research shows we tend to (generally) unconsciously copy the body posture, tone, and even facial movements of those we feel connected to. And further research tells us that how we position our body creates its own chemical response. For example, if we are sitting with someone having a pleasant chat, we might put ourselves in similar relaxed postures, which signal a flow of chemicals associated with a peaceful state. If we are with someone who is angry, our own jaws and shoulders may tense in response, triggering stress chemicals in our own bodies.

Research by Amy Cuddy shows that when we take on what she calls “power positions,” or positions of dominance, our bodies respond by producing more testosterone and less cortisol. This correlates with a slew of additional studies on such things as the impact of smiling to improve one’s mood, and standing up straighter to improve confidence. The body will produce the internal state of the position we put it in. Thus, if we are unconsciously mirroring someone else, we will replicate their own internal state.

We are interconnected as humans not just through biology, but also by culture, language and the environment. As John Donne said, “No man is an island entire of itself; every man is a piece of the continent, a part of the main…” And not only do we feel and smell and know each other whether we like it or not, we also long for a certain level of connection.

We carry with us the primal imprint of the circle around the fire, where safety was found in closeness with tribe and community. To our ancestors, the world was a dangerous place on one’s own, where we faced threats unmanageable alone, but often conquerable as a group. Somewhere in our beings we still remember this time, even as modern-day society (especially in the West) has pushed us further and further apart.

We are linked, and we long to be linked, while at the same time knowing our separate value. So now the next phase of human evolution calls us to be intentionally linked as the amazing, unique differentiated beings we are. This takes self-awareness. If I know who I am, and respect who you are, I can link with you without either diminishing myself or taking over. If I don’t know who I am and I don’t respect who you are, there can’t really be linkage.

It is not our differences that divide us. It is our inability to recognize, accept, and celebrate those differences.

~Audre Lorde

The desire to know ourselves may well have been a key factor in moving us forward in our human evolution. Under the definition of integration we are using (the linkage of differentiated elements), we’ll call this desire to understand ourselves differentiation, which is again the process by which parts of a system become specialized, unique, and individualized in their growth and development.

Differentiation is key to being able to powerfully and effectively link with others and even with oneself. One of the many reasons the field of coaching has become so popular in the past twenty years is that it helps people explore, understand, and claim their particular uniqueness and gifts. As humans, we are beginning to understand the importance of self-awareness in regard to increasing effectiveness in every area of life. A powerful example can be found by examining most reputable executive leadership programs. It used to be common that these programs focused primarily on skills and knowledge, but now almost all inevitably begin with some form of self-awareness and/or values, style or strengths inventory.

We are moving away from the days of “one size fits all” management to an understanding that the best leaders are those who first and foremost know who they are and work to develop their own innate strengths rather than attempting to copy others. It’s not radical any longer to say that there are many different—and equally effective—ways to lead, and that the most important thing is personal authenticity. This is another example of how we are evolving out of polarity thinking (the either/or paradigm)—leaders are seeing that they can be themselves and move things forward (as opposed to the old one size fits all model which basically said you had to be General MacArthur to get anything done).

It’s also no coincidence that almost half of the Gallup organization’s classic measures of employee engagement address issues directly related to personal uniqueness. This survey is used faithfully in companies around the world to gauge the degree to which employees have a positive or negative emotional attachment to their work, because research has shown that a workplace with employees who feel engaged and empowered is much more productive and has far less turnover than one with employees who are disengaged. Among others, the Gallup survey asks individuals to respond to the following statements:

• At work, I have the opportunity to do what I do best every day.

• My supervisor, or someone at work, seems to care about me as a person.

• There is someone at work who encourages my development.

• At work, my opinions seem to count.

• This last year, I have had opportunities at work to learn and grow.

Differentiation is key to the process of integration because linkage without differentiation restricts what is possible. Some people confuse the powerful sense of connection that linkage brings us with the need to have everyone be the same. That is, they believe that to be safe, we must be alike, and reject those who are not. But if we are all the same—or more accurately, are afraid to embrace our differences—we can’t truly and powerfully link with others. Our fear of making waves, being different, or not fitting in actually robs us of the opportunity to authentically connect. If we are not being our true selves, warts and all, then connection is persona to persona, not being to being.

Some degree of friction and chaos is essential for transformation, but we often feel compelled to resolve conflict immediately or avoid it altogether. We tend to seek comfort and resolution and are not at ease standing in discomfort and the unknown, and yet, to differentiate ourselves, we must sometimes be willing to change, to explore new ideas and new behaviors, which is certainly not always comfortable!

Our human brains love to feel they know (and have control over) what is going to happen. According to Dr. David Rock, director of the NeuroLeadership Institute, one way of looking at the brain is to understand it as a pattern-recognition machine engaged in constantly trying to predict the near future. When we can’t predict what will happen to us, it can lead to a lack of certainty, and this can feel like a threat, putting us into a classic “fight or flight” reaction. Fight or flight generates a biochemical state conducive to basic survival behaviors, but where we are significantly less able to access our higher brain and sophisticated reasoning abilities.

Change is uncomfortable and often uncertain, and yet, nothing evolves—not a person, a relationship, an organization or the entire human race—without the development of new patterns, new neural pathways. As Henry David Thoreau said almost two hundred years ago, “A single footstep will not make a path on the earth, so a single thought will not make a pathway in the mind. To make a deep physical path, we walk again and again. To make a deep mental path, we must think over and over the kind of thoughts we wish to dominate our lives.”

To move to the next place of human evolution, we need to develop an ability to differentiate, which includes understanding that we are energy and energy must move. The truth is, we can’t stand still. We are either growing or atrophying. There is no maintaining the status quo: as the saying goes, the past is an illusion and the future a fantasy.

Differentiation is also part of us in deep and important ways. As humans we have adapted to live on every continent on the globe. Our skin carries various pigments designed to react to light differently so that we can survive in both the African Sahara and the steppes of Russia. Our bodies come in a variety of sizes and shapes, and no two humans (except identical twins) carry the exact same fingerprints or DNA. In addition, culture, religion, language, and family systems shape us, as does every experience we have from our first breath to our last.

The human brain contains some 86 billion neurons, making potential neural connections as vast and varied as stars in the known universe. Even in the most homogenous communities, each person’s particular experience will be somewhat different, and thus their brains will continually develop and respond differently.

There is a lovely and apropos line by Walt Whitman: “Do I contradict myself? Very well then, I contradict myself. I am large, I contain multitudes.” Of course we confuse, baffle, and contradict ourselves and each other in all our complex differences. We are large; we contain multitudes.

It’s delightful that at the beginning of the twenty-first century it is more and more possible for people (at least in the Western world) to choose to do what they like for a living, to marry who they please, and to enjoy themselves in a myriad of ever-developing and changing ways. Marching out of step isn’t the problem it once was. And with the advent of the Internet and global communication, finding a band that likes your particular step as well is not just a possibility, but almost a given. You like to dress up like the Wookie from Star Wars? There’s a group for that. You enjoy discussing the finer points of horseshoes or Jenga? Yep, those groups exist too. Ideas spread almost instantly, so if you don’t know if you’d like being part of a flash mob or could raise funds for charity as part of a naked calendar of middle-aged women, who knows, it may just come to your town for you to explore.

All of this is to say, we now more than ever have the power to know and express ourselves, instead of living disconnected, separate lives of what Emerson called “quiet desperation.” This can bring us to a powerful new possibility for humanity—Integration. Instead of separation, we can now become integrated with ourselves, each other, the physical world, and even God.

If you bring forth what is within you, what you bring forth will save you. If you do not bring forth what is within you, what you do not bring forth will destroy you.

~Daniel Pinchbeck

Let’s start with how we heal the separation within ourselves. All other aspects of integration begin here, with self-integration. When we know who we truly are—both our light and dark sides, and have worked to find internal coherence—we are available to each other and the world. Carl Jung noted that enlightenment isn’t about visualizing light, but instead comes from integrating the darker aspects of ourselves into our conscious personalities. The bigger we are, the more fully self-aware, the more there is to link with.

Not only do we need to understand ourselves much better (differentiation), we need to link the various aspects of who we are by integrating our own internal opposing forces, and addressing the pull between all of our internal polarities. The question isn’t should I be this or should I be that? It is, instead, who am I with all my parts connected and communicating?

There is a very important part of our brains called the corpus callosum. It’s a bundle of fibers that connects the right and left hemispheres, one internal linkage point of two key aspects of our being. According to researchers Juliana Bloom and George Hynd, its function is to facilitate the transfer of information between the hemispheres, as well as the inhibition of one hemisphere by the other. Both are important to our functioning and effectiveness as human beings. (Interestingly, according to a 2011 study at the UCLA brain-mapping center, one of the measureable differences found in the brains of long-term meditators is an increase in the size of the corpus callosum, as well as greater connectivity in other areas of the brain.)

While recent brain research has taught us that it isn’t accurate to call people “right-brained” or “left-brained,” as a state of being, it is the case that in most people, one hemisphere of the brain dominates at a time, depending on the function, task, or role we are playing. But in those who have embraced some form of mindfulness, functional magnetic resonance imaging (fMRI) scans show much more integrated activity during various tasks, as well as the inhibition of parts of the brain that may not be as helpful. (NOTE: In common language, we think of inhibition as restricting self-expression. For example, we say, “I wanted to dance at the wedding, but I was just too inhibited.” However, here we are using the term in its simplest sense: to restrict or restrain, which can be a very helpful thing in the brain.)

In 2005, a number of Tibetan Buddhist monks submitted to fMRI scans as they practiced a form of meditation aimed at achieving a state of pure loving kindness toward all beings. The scans showed that for monks who had spent more than 10,000 hours in meditation, there were striking differences in brain function. Activity in what is called the “locus of joy,” located in the left prefrontal cortex, overwhelmed activity in the “locus of anxiety,” located in the right prefrontal cortex. One of the theories explaining this is that the more developed corpus callosum enables one hemisphere to stop activity in the other when it is not helpful to the current activity, thus enabling the monks to stay in a state of peace and contentment.

Let’s look a little more deeply at what we need to integrate from both our hemispheres. To paraphrase brain expert Iain McGilchrist, it isn’t so much what each hemisphere does that is important. Both are involved in language, creativity, planning, and taking action. There is little we do, feel, or think that doesn’t activate both sides of our brain. What is important, however, is how they each view the world, and what each holds as most important.

Our left hemisphere is all about specifics. Some of the things it is responsible for include:

• Positivity

• Maintaining a clear focus and direction

• Analysis

• Logic

• The symbols of language

• Structure

• Anger and blame

• Rigid thinking

• Seeing people as things, that is, in terms of their utility rather than their full selves

• Lack of awareness of emotional state (self and others)

• Holistic view, seeing the big picture and the greater context—the meaning of language

• Empathy

• Inspiration

• Understanding music, poetry and metaphor

• Pessimism, hopelessness, shame

• Emotional overwhelm, inability to recover from strong emotions

• Depression

• Fear and anxiety

• Inability to focus, sometimes inability to move

• Inability to put feelings into words

• Inability to move into action due to emotional overwhelm

Given these lists, it starts becoming clear that there is a need for both integration and inhibition. In the case of integration, for example, there is clearly a role for both symbols (left) and context (right) in using language and communicating effectively. When there is a right hemisphere deficit (such as in some cases of autism), the more subtle meanings can be lost and, in the extreme, even very smart people won’t understand metaphoric language and will take things literally. The autistic character Max Braverman on TV’s Parenthood portrays this well. He has learned to ask those around him if they mean things literally or if they are speaking in metaphor, so that he knows how to respond to what they are saying. As is common for some forms of autism, he understands the words exactly, but doesn’t always appreciate the more subtle meaning behind them unless it is explained.

Conversely, with left hemisphere deficit or damage, the person may understand the meaning of things, but not be able to find the exact word for it, being frustrated in their ability to say what they feel. Interestingly, because music is largely a function of the right hemisphere, often stroke patients with certain left hemisphere damage can sing things they can’t say! There is something about adding music to the mix that helps them find the words. That is, if you ask them to say the words to Happy Birthday they can’t, but when asked to sing, they will be able to. The bottom line is, in most areas of life, we are constantly drawing on both sides of our brain.

In the case of inhibition, it also becomes more and more evident that to be optimally effective requires some ability of one hemisphere to inhibit the other, as was seen in the Tibetan monks, where the left hemisphere was able to inhibit aspects of pessimism in the right. By the way, that isn’t the only shift observed in scans of long-term meditators—the right hemisphere in its turn seems able to inhibit the area of the left responsible for our feeling of separation, creating a sense of oneness and connection with all there is.

Differentiation within ourselves is actually critical to internal integration. We need to be aware of our own reactive tendencies as much as we need to know our “better selves.” As mentioned above, the fight or flight response triggers a lower, less advanced part of our brain. This is often inaccurately referred to as the reptilian brain, but is actually the part that developed when we evolved into a mammalian state.

Many events can trigger a fight or flight response, from things that are truly dangerous to encounters we perceive as threats to our sense of status or control. When this lower part of our brain is activated, a biochemical response (largely a release of adrenalin and cortisol) occurs that is designed to help us survive in the moment. Energy goes to our extremities, making it easier to fight or flee, and is drawn away from more consumptive activities such as digestion or the immune system. And the brain goes into a state of hyper focus and reaction, dealing only with the threat (or perceived threat) in front of us, and is literally unable to access more complex thinking.

Often this is a subtle response, not the full-on actuality of truly fighting or running away that we might engage in were the trigger an actual threat. Instead, fight or flight can be activated by something as simple as an unpleasant e-mail or difficulty in traffic. And even a bit of the stress-induced chemical cocktail within makes balanced, effective decision-making more difficult.

In terms of integration, we believe a key aspect is being able to recognize (thus differentiating) our reactive selves, increasing the ability to link this part of the brain—our lower, animal/survival nature—with our higher, more thoughtful brain. Ann had a highly intelligent executive client who was very effective, except when he felt his status was threatened. Then he would send smart, sarcastic e-mails (a subtle form of “fight”) without considering the consequences. His team and peers both respected and disliked him, because it often wasn’t fun being on the receiving end of his communications, and he was finding his effectiveness as a team leader slipping without knowing why.

When Ann shared with him the brain science behind what he was doing—that, in effect, he was writing e-mails from a less-evolved part of his brain, it changed everything. He made a commitment to putting his snarky e-mails in a drafts folder before sending them, giving his brain a chance to calm down and assess whether this was really what he wanted to say. At one point, he slipped, telling Ann, “I sent another reactive e-mail the other day. My finger just pushed send before I could stop myself. But this time, I knew I had done the wrong thing. It’s going to take me the best part of a week to clean that all up! But at least now I know why I did it and I also know what to do to recover.”

In essence, he is in the process of becoming more integrated, which doesn’t happen overnight. What is encouraging is that his higher brain responded more quickly than it had in the past, telling him, “Uh-oh, look what we’ve done now.” This is part of the path, and in making that mistake, he is one step closer to being able to inhibit, in the moment, his lower brain.

The paradox inherent within integration—the linkage of differentiated parts—is that as we differentiate and know who we are, we also become clearer about when we need to link things together and when we need to inhibit one aspect from taking over the whole show. The most effective, well-integrated people seem to be those who can easily access all parts of the brain as needed, as well as inhibiting the reactive aspects when they arise.

While there are many aspects of personal integration (Dan Siegel lists a full nine domains), we wanted to emphasize two to begin with: the different goals and desires of the two hemispheres and the need to be aware of and inhibit our lower, more reactive brain.

I know there is strength in the differences between us. I know there is comfort in where we overlap.

~Ani DiFranco

In the popular book Codependent No More, author Melody Beattie introduced the general public to the idea that we can be overly involved with and even “addicted” to another person. She popularized the understanding that there are two extremes in relationships—independence and codependence. On the one hand, we can be distant, never letting anyone all the way in by maintaining an overzealous commitment to boundaries and personal space (extreme differentiation and separateness). On the other hand, we can lose our own identity in the other, working to please at all costs, even forgetting who we are in the process (extreme linkage). The concept of “interdependence” began to emerge then as a healthier ideal, and in this word we see the possibility of integration as we have been defining it: the linkage of differentiated parts.

In connecting with each other, the concept of integration as we are defining it is a powerful idea, whether it is with a significant other, a colleague, a child, a friend, one’s workplace, or community. First of all, we need to be differentiated. If we don’t know who we are, what we want, and what we personally have to contribute, the potential of any connection is diminished, and we run the risk of looking for our identity in the other or in the relationship itself. This can leave us vulnerable and disempowered, and devastated if and when it ends.

And secondly, we need to be able to link with each other, bending at times, learning, and being willing to be shaped and re-shaped by the experience of being related. To expand on this a bit, Dr. Daniel Siegel tells the story of asking thousands of people attending his lectures, from medical doctors to therapists, social workers and coaches, if they had ever been given a definition of the mind. An astonishingly small percentage of these people (almost all of whom worked intensely with people’s minds) had ever had a class or even a discussion about what it is. So Dan set out to find out. He convened a cross-disciplinary group of academics from disciplines as varied as anthropology to neuroscience, and after a couple of years (yes, years) of conversations, they came up with this definition (one that they all could embrace in their own fields): The mind is an embodied and relational process regulating the flow of energy and information.

So what does it mean that the mind is relational? As we saw in the first part of this chapter, we feel and are affected by each other in ways we are not fully aware of. We are shaped by each other’s moods, thoughts, and ideas, no matter how much we consider ourselves impermeable. And yet, we also have the ability to make conscious choices. We don’t have to have the same prejudices as our families, for example. We can choose to be gregarious and open in a culture that is typically not. With practice, we can stop and breathe and open our hearts in the middle of an argument, even when our mirror neurons or subtle mirroring are reacting to the other person’s anger or frustration.

When in relationship with others, integration calls us to link consciously. This means valuing ourselves as well as recognizing the gifts of others, being willing to be affected by them, and also aware of when it will be more productive to shift things in a more positive direction. In polarity thinking (viewing the world as either this or that, rather than this and that), differentiation means separateness, and linkage means losing ourselves. Integration gives us the awareness that both are not only possible, but deeply powerful and effective.

Disorder is inherent in stability. True stability results when presumed order and presumed disorder are balanced. A truly stable system expects the unexpected, is prepared to be disrupted, waits to be transformed.

~Tom Robbins

All life flows between the opposing forces of chaos (the right hemisphere at its most extreme) and rigidity (the left at its most extreme). This is not a new concept. The great twentieth century philosopher and mathematician Bertrand Russell taught that all political systems calibrated to one of two forces: freedom or control. In the nineteenth century, the philosopher Friedrich Nietzsche argued that great dramatic arts were a unification of the energies embodied by the Greek gods Apollo (reason and order) and Dionysus (revelry, spontaneity, and enjoyment), energies once again reflective of rigidity and chaos. We are naturally pulled by these two powerful forces, and an effective life requires that we learn to dance with both.

Integration with life calls us to know, value, and link these seeming polarities, understanding that each is not something to be feared by the other, but rather exist as what Siegel calls “banks of the same river”—the river of our lives. We need the energy inherent in chaos to move things, and we need the energy inherent in rigidity to provide structure.

But many of us fear and resist one or the other of these energies, often embracing one side or the other in different circumstances and at different times in our lives, and rejecting the other in the process. At its most extreme, this can be like beaching your boat up on one bank of the river because you’re so afraid of getting stuck on the other.

Ann remembers how ineffective a fear of rigidity was in her own life. “When I was seventeen I dropped out of high school. I couldn’t see the rules and structure as anything less than a horrible restriction. I somehow managed to talk my way into college, but ended up going to five different schools before I finally completed my BA at age thirty. Each time it was the ‘stupid rules’ that got in my way. Finally, with a little maturity, I was able to see the rules and requirements as a part of the process—and possibly not even all bad! I ended up enjoying the required math and science classes I had dreaded and feeling very proud of myself for finally completing something.”

On the other hand, we’ve both coached countless clients who find themselves at middle age, having followed all the rules and “shoulds” of life, now wondering what happened? Where is the joy, the zest, the fun? They did what they were supposed to do, creating safety and security for themselves and their families, only to realize one day that they may be living, but are not truly alive. They find themselves beached up on the dry shores of rigidity because they are terrified of chaos and its inherent uncertainty.

There is a pattern and a flow to life, both rules and chaos. As it says in Ecclesiastes, to everything there is a season, and a time for every purpose under the sun. To be integrated with life means finding the dynamic balance between enough structure and enough freedom so that things move forward powerfully. Too much structure, the flow is restricted and nothing can move. Too much freedom, and energy spills all over, without direction, and nothing gets accomplished.

It’s fun to watch people canoeing or kayaking on a river. Novices often paddle hard on one side of the boat until they end up almost hitting the right bank, then paddle hard on the other side until they almost hit the left. But experts stay mostly in the middle, making micro-adjustments with each stroke. It looks like the boat is going straight—and it is—but it’s not because it doesn’t get pulled one way or the other almost all the time. The job of an expert paddler is to compensate, adjusting her stroke to the current, her fellow paddler, and the wind.

This is what being integrated with life calls us to do. To stay in the flow, ever honoring and adjusting to each bank of the river that supports us.

Since no one really knows anything about God, those who think they do are just troublemakers.

~Rabia of Basra (8^th century female Islamic saint)

How can we even begin to talk about integration with God, oneness, the universe or spirit when none of us has any real idea what that is, much less any shared understanding across faiths and cultures? Any description we would give runs the risk of leaving someone out, and yet, there seems to be a universal longing that transcends any definition or label—the longing to feel a part of something larger than ourselves. To feel part of something without beginning, end, or limitation. To know ourselves, in Einstein’s words, as a part of the whole.

So how do we integrate—link our differentiated selves—with something we don’t understand? This is, for some of us, the ultimate journey of our lives. Pierre Teilhard de Chardin, as we previously mentioned, was the first to note that we are not human beings having a spiritual experience, but rather spiritual beings having a human experience. In the last chapter, we looked at the spiritual argument for separation, which boils down to oneness (or whatever you like to call it) desiring to know itself through the illusion of separateness—spiritual beings having a human experience indeed!

Differentiation and linkage operate here as well. In order to link with whatever we know as God or universal energy, we must first believe there is such a thing, and that it can be differentiated from what we know as ourselves. (The beloved Christian Saint Francis of Assisi wrote: “So precious is a person’s faith in God, so precious; never should we harm that.”) And it also requires that we stand in the most profound paradox of all—that we are both separate and inextricably part of everything. In our human experience, separate. On the spiritual level, one.

We asked a long-time spiritual teacher and friend what she thought about integration with God or oneness. “When I feel integrated with God,” she replied, “I am not concerned about the past or the future. I am only aware of now. I have forgiven the things in the past I held as wrong, and I have no regrets. I am looking into the future without fear, trusting that all is well. In this sense, I don’t just feel integrated with what I hold as God, I feel very integrated in myself as well.”

All things are difficult before they are easy.

~Thomas Fuller

Ultimately it all returns to integration with and within ourselves. There is a peace and power to knowing and honoring all aspects of ourselves: our mind, body, spirit, and emotions. Knowing and using (and inhibiting when necessary) all areas of our brain, and respecting our need for both structure and freedom. And from here, we can link our wonderful separate powerfully differentiated selves with others, with our communities and workplaces, and ultimately, with all there is.

We believe that the underpinnings, philosophy, tools and distinctions of the Co-Active model offer a much-needed road map for integration on every level. Originally created by Karen and her co-founders Henry Kimsey-House and Laura Whitworth to guide the coach training programs offered by CTI, the world’s largest coaching and leadership development company, the Co-Active model is so much more than a methodology of coaching. In the following chapters, we’ll explore how living a “Co-Active” life leads us to deep fulfillment, effectiveness, and connection with ourselves and each other.