HABIT 5
SEEK FIRST TO UNDERSTAND … THEN TO BE UNDERSTOOD
To learn to seek first to understand and then to be understood opens the floodgates to heart-to-heart family living. As the fox said in the classic The Little Prince, “And now here is my secret, a very simple secret: It is only with the heart that one can see rightly; what is essential is invisible to the eye.”
As we begin this chapter, I’d like to ask you to try an experiment. Please take a few seconds and just look at the picture on this page.
Now look at this picture and carefully describe what you see.
Do you see an Indian? What does he look like? How is he dressed? Which way is he facing?
You would probably say that the Indian has a prominent nose, that he’s wearing a feathered warbonnet, and that he is looking to the left of the page.
But what if I were to tell you that you’re wrong? What if I said that you were not looking at an Indian but at an Eskimo, and that he is wearing a coat with a hood that covers his head, that he has a spear in his hand, and that he is facing away from you and toward the right side of the page?
Who would be right? Look at the picture again. Can you see the Eskimo? If you can’t, keep trying. Can you see his spear and hooded coat?
If we were talking face-to-face, we could discuss the picture. You could describe what you see to me, and I could describe what I see to you. We could continue to communicate until you showed me what you see in the picture and I showed you what I see.
Because we can’t do that, turn to here and study the picture there. Then look at this picture again. Can you see the Eskimo now? It is important that you see him clearly before you continue reading.
For many years I have used these kinds of perception pictures to bring people to the realization that the way they see the world is not necessarily the way other people see the world. In fact, people do not see the world as it is; they see it as they are—or as they have been conditioned to be.
Almost always this kind of perception experience causes people to be humbled and to be much more respectful, more reverent, more open to understanding.
People do not see the world as it is; they see it as they are—or as they have been conditioned to be.
Often when I teach Habit 5, I will go out into the audience and take a pair of glasses from one person and try to talk another person into wearing them. I usually tell the audience that I’m going to use several methods of human influence to try to get this person to wear these glasses.
When I put these glasses on the person—let’s say a woman—she will usually quickly recoil in some way, particularly if they are strong prescription glasses. And so I appeal to her motivation. I say, “Try harder.” And there’s even more recoiling. Or if she feels intimidated by me, she’ll outwardly tend to go along, but there’s no real buy-in inside. So I say, “Well, I sense you’re kind of rebelling. You’ve got an ‘attitude.’ You’ve got to be positive. Think more positively. You can make this work.” So she’ll kind of smile, but that doesn’t work at all and she knows it. So she’ll usually say, “That doesn’t help at all.”
So then I try to create a little pressure or to intimidate her in some way. I step into the role of a parent and say, “Look, do you have any idea of the sacrifices your mother and I have made for you—the things we’ve done for you, the things we’ve denied ourselves to help you? And you’re going to take this kind of an attitude! Now wear these!” And sometimes that stirs up even more feelings of rebellion. I step into the role of a boss and try to exert some economic pressure: “How current is your résumé anyway?” I appeal to social pressure: “Aren’t you going to be part of this team?” I appeal to her vanity: “Oh, but they look so good on you! Look, everyone. Don’t they complement her features?”
I tap into motivation, attitude, vanity, economic and social pressure. I intimidate. I guilt-trip. I tell her to think positively, to try harder. But none of these methods of influence works. Why? Because they all come from me—not from her and her unique eye situation.
This brings us to the importance of seeking to understand before you seek to influence—of diagnosing before prescribing, as an optometrist does. Without understanding, you might as well be yelling into the wind. No one will hear you. Your effort may satisfy your ego for a moment, but there’s really no influence taking place.
We each look at the world through our own pair of glasses—glasses that come out of our own unique background and conditioning experiences, glasses that create our value system, our expectations, our implicit assumptions about the way the world is and the way it should be. Just think about the Indian/Eskimo experience at the beginning of this chapter. The first picture conditioned your mind to “see” or interpret the second picture similarly. But there was another way to see it that was just as accurate.
One of the main reasons behind communication breakdowns is that the people involved interpret the same event differently. Their different natures and background experiences condition them to do so. If they then interact without taking into account why they see things differently, they begin to judge each other. For instance, take a small thing such as a difference in room temperature. The thermostat on the wall registers 75 degrees. One person complains, “It’s too hot,” and opens the window; the other complains, “It’s too cold,” and closes it. Who is right? Is it too hot or too cold? The fact is they are both right. Logic would say that if two disagree and one is right, the other is wrong. But it isn’t logic; it’s psycho-logic. Both are right—each from his or her own point of view.
As we project our conditioning experiences onto the outside world, we assume we’re seeing the world the way it is. But we’re not. We’re seeing the world as we are—or as we have been conditioned to be. And until we gain the capacity to step out of our own autobiography—to set aside our own glasses and really see the world through the eyes of others—we will never be able to build deep, authentic relationships and have the capacity to influence in positive ways.
And that’s what Habit 5 is all about.
At the Heart of Family Pain Is Misunderstanding
Years ago I had a profound, almost shattering experience that taught me the essence of Habit 5 in a forcible and humbling way.
Our family was on a sabbatical for about fifteen months in Hawaii, and Sandra and I had begun what was to become one of the great traditions of our lives. I would pick her up a little before noon on an old red trail cycle. We would take our two preschool children with us—one between us and the other on my left knee—and ride out in the cane fields by my office. We would ride slowly along for about an hour, just talking. We usually ended up on an isolated beach; we parked the trail cycle and walked about two hundred yards to a secluded spot where we ate a picnic lunch. The children would play in the surf, and we would have great in-depth visits about all kinds of things. We would talk about almost everything.
One day we began to talk about a subject that was very sensitive for us both. I had always been bugged about what I considered Sandra’s inordinate attachment to buying Frigidaire appliances. She seemed to have an obsession about Frigidaire that I was at an absolute loss to understand. She would not even consider buying another brand. Even when we were just starting out and on a very tight budget, she insisted that we drive the fifty miles to the “big city” where Frigidaire appliances were sold, because no dealer in our small university town carried them at that time.
What bothered me the most was not that she liked Frigidaire but that she persisted in making what I considered illogical and indefensible statements that had no basis in fact whatsoever. If she had only agreed that her response was irrational and purely emotional, I think I could have handled it. But her justification was really upsetting. In fact it was such a tender issue that on this particular occasion we kept riding and postponed going to the beach. I think we were afraid to look each other in the eye.
But the spirit was such that we were very open. We started talking about our appliances in Hawaii, and I said, “I know you would probably prefer Frigidaire.”
“I would,” she agreed, “but these seem to be working out fine.” Then she began to open up. She said that as a young girl, she realized that her father worked very hard to support his family. He worked as a high school history teacher and coach for years, and to help make ends meet, he went into the appliance business. One of the main brands he carried in the store was Frigidaire. When he returned home after a full day of teaching and working late into the evening at the appliance store, he would lie on the couch and she would rub his feet and sing to him. It was a beautiful time they enjoyed together almost daily for years. Often during this time he would talk through his worries and concerns about the business, and he shared with Sandra his deep appreciation for Frigidaire. During an economic downturn, he had experienced serious financial difficulties, and the only thing that had enabled him to stay in business was that Frigidaire financed his inventory.
As Sandra shared these things, there were long pauses. I knew that she was tearing up. This was a deeply emotional thing for her. The communication between father and daughter had taken place spontaneously and naturally, when the most powerful kind of scripting takes place. And perhaps Sandra had forgotten about all this until the safety of our year of communication, when it could also come out in very natural and spontaneous ways.
My eyes began to tear as well. I finally started to understand. I had never made it safe for her to talk about it. I had never empathized. I had simply judged. I had just moved in with my logic and my counsel and my condemnation and never even made an effort to really understand. But as Blaise Pascal has said, “The heart has its reasons which reason knows not of.”
We spent a long time in the cane fields that day. And when we finally did arrive at the beach, we felt so renewed, so bonded to each other, so reaffirmed in the preciousness of our relationship, that we just held each other. We didn’t even need to talk.
There’s no way to have rich, rewarding family relationships without real understanding.
There’s no way to have rich, rewarding family relationships without real understanding. Relationships can be superficial. They can be functional. They can be transactional. But they can’t be transformational—and deeply satisfying—unless they’re built on a foundation of genuine understanding.
In fact, at the heart of most of the real pain in families is misunderstanding.
A short time ago a father shared with me the experience of punishing his young son who kept disobeying him by constantly going around the corner. Each time he did so, the father would punish him and tell him not to go around the corner again. But the little boy kept doing it. Finally, after one such punishment, this boy looked at his father with tear-filled eyes and said, “What does ‘corner’ mean, Daddy?”
Catherine (daughter):
For quite a while I couldn’t figure out why our three-year-old son would not go over to his friend’s house to play. The friend would come over several times a week and play at our house, and they got along well. Then this friend would invite our son to play in his yard, which had a big sand pile, swing sets, trees, and a large green lawn. Each time he said he would go, but after walking halfway there, he would always come running back with tears in his eyes.
After I listened to him and tried to discover what his fears were, he finally opened up and told me that he was afraid to go to the bathroom at his friend’s house. He didn’t know where it was. He was afraid he might accidentally wet his pants.
I took him by the hand, and we walked together over to the friend’s house. We talked to his mother, and she showed our son where the bathroom was and how to open the door. She offered to help him find it if he was in need. Feeling greatly relieved, he decided to stay and play, and hasn’t had a problem since.
One of our neighbors related an experience he had had with one of his daughters who was in grade school. All of their other children were very bright, and school was easy for them. He was surprised when this daughter started doing poorly in math. The class was studying subtraction, and she just didn’t seem to get it. She would come home frustrated and in tears.
This father decided to spend an evening with his daughter and get to the bottom of the problem. He carefully explained the concept of subtraction and let her try a few problems. She still wasn’t making the connection. She just didn’t understand.
He patiently lined up five shiny red apples in a row. He took away two apples. All of a sudden her face lit up. It was as if a light had gone on inside her. She blurted out, “Oh, nobody told me we were doing take away.” No one had realized that she had no idea that “subtraction” meant “take away.”
Most mistakes with family members are not the result of bad intent. It’s just that we really don’t understand. We don’t see clearly into one another’s hearts.
From that moment on, she understood. With young children we have to understand where they are coming from, what they are thinking, because they usually don’t have the words to explain it.
Most mistakes with our children, with our spouses, with all family members are not the result of bad intent. It’s just that we really don’t understand. We don’t see clearly into one another’s hearts.
If we did—if an entire family could develop the kind of openness we’re talking about—over 90 percent of the difficulties and problems could be resolved.
A Flood of Witnesses
People have begun to realize that much of the pain in families is caused by lack of understanding. And if you take a look at the best-selling family books on the market today, you can get an idea of how significant this pain and this growing awareness are.
Books such as Deborah Tannen’s You Just Don’t Understand and John Gray’s Men Are from Mars, Women Are from Venus have become tremendously popular because they touch on this pain. And these books come on the crest of a wave of recognition of the problem. In the recent past there have been many other writers on the family, including Carl Rogers, Thomas Gordon, and Haim Ginott, who have recognized and attempted to deal with this issue. They provide a flood of witnesses who affirm the vital importance of seeking to understand.1
The fact that these books, programs, and movements have had enduring value illustrates how much people hunger to feel understood.
Satisfactions and Judgments Surround Expectations
Perhaps the greatest contribution of these materials is in helping us realize that by understanding the differences between people, we can learn to take them into account and adjust our expectations accordingly. Much of the material focuses on gender differences, but there are also other powerful dimensions that create differences, such as past and present experiences in the family and on the job. By understanding these differences we can adjust our expectations.
Basically, our satisfactions come from our expectations. So if we’re aware of our expectations, we can adjust them accordingly and—in a very real sense—adjust our satisfactions as well. To illustrate: I knew of one couple who came into marriage with totally different expectations. She expected everything to be sunshine, daffodils, and “happily ever after.” When the realities of marriage and family life hit, she spent much of her time feeling disappointed, frustrated, and dissatisfied. He, on the other hand, anticipated having to deal with the challenges of marriage and family life. And every moment of joy was a wonderful, happy surprise to him, for which he was deeply grateful.
As Gordon B. Hinckley, a wise leader, commented:
Of course all of marriage is not bliss. Stormy weather occasionally hits every household. Connected inevitably with the whole process is much of pain—physical, mental, and emotional. There is much of stress and struggle, of fear and worry. For most there is the ever haunting battle of economics. There seems never to be enough money to cover the needs of the family. Sickness strikes periodically. Accidents happen. The hand of death may reach in and with dread stealth to take a precious one. But all of this seems to be part of the processes of family life. Few indeed are those who get along without experiencing some of it.2
To understand that reality—and to adjust expectations accordingly—is, to a great extent, to control our own satisfaction.
Our expectations are also the basis for our judgments. If you knew, for example, that children in a growth stage of around six or seven had a very strong tendency to exaggerate, you wouldn’t overreact to that behavior because you would understand. That’s why it is so important to understand growth stages and unmet emotional needs, as well as what changes are taking place in the environment that stir up emotional needs and lead to particular behavior. Most child experts agree that almost all “acting out” can be explained in terms of growth stages, unmet emotional needs, environmental changes, just plain ignorance, or a combination.
When you understand, you don’t judge.
Isn’t it interesting: When you understand, you don’t judge. We even say to each other, “Oh, if you only understood, you wouldn’t judge.” You can see why the wise, ancient king Solomon prayed for an understanding heart, why he wrote, “In all thy getting, get understanding.” Wisdom comes from such understanding. Without it, people act unwisely. Yet from their own frame of reference, what they are doing makes perfect sense.
The reason we judge is that it protects us. We don’t have to deal with the person; we can just deal with the label. In addition, when you expect nothing, you’re never disappointed.
But the problem with judging or labeling is that you begin to interpret all data in a way that confirms your judgment. This is what is meant by “prejudice” or “prejudgment.” If you have judged a child as being ungrateful, for example, then you will subconsciously look for evidence in his behavior to support that judgment. Another person looking at the exact same behavior may see it as evidence of gratitude and appreciation. And the problem is compounded when you act on the basis of what you consider reconfirmed judgment—and it produces more of the same behavior. It becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
If you label your child as lazy, for example, and you act based on that label, your child will probably see you as bossy, domineering, and critical. Your behavior itself will invoke a resisting response in your child that you interpret as further evidence of his laziness—which gives you justification for being even more bossy, domineering, and critical. It creates a downward spiral, a form of codependency and collusion that feeds on itself until both parties are convinced they are right and actually need the bad behavior of the other to confirm their rightness.
This is the reason that the tendency to judge is such a major obstacle to healthy relationships. It causes you to interpret all data to support your judgment. And whatever misunderstanding existed before is compounded tenfold by the emotional energy surrounding this collusion.
Two major problems in communication are perception, or how people interpret the same data, and semantics, or how people define the same word. Through empathic understanding, both of these problems can be overcome.
Seeking to Understand: The Fundamental Deposit
Consider the following account of a father’s journey in seeking to understand his daughter and how it profoundly influenced them both:
Around the time our daughter Karen turned sixteen, she began to treat us very disrespectfully. She would make a lot of sarcastic comments, a lot of put-downs. And this began carrying over to her younger brothers and sisters.
I didn’t do much about it until it finally came to a head one night. My wife and I and our daughter were in our bedroom, and Karen let fly some very inappropriate comments. I decided that I had had enough, so I said, “Karen, listen. Let me tell you how life works in this household.” And I went through this long, authoritative argument that I was sure would convince her that she should treat her parents with respect. I mentioned all the things we had done for her recent birthday. I talked about the dress we had bought her. I reminded her how we had helped her get her driver’s license and how we were now letting her drive the car. I went on and on, and the list was quite impressive. By the time I finished, I was expecting Karen to almost drop on her knees and worship her parents. Instead, somewhat belligerently she said, “So?”
I was furious. I said angrily, “Karen, you go to your room. Your mother and I are going to talk about consequences, and we’ll let you know what’s going to happen.” She went storming off and slammed her bedroom door. I was so angry, I was literally pacing back and forth, seething with anger. And then suddenly it hit me. I had done nothing to try to understand Karen. I certainly wasn’t thinking win-win. I was totally on my own agenda. This realization caused a profound shift in my thinking and in the way I felt toward Karen.
When I went to her room a few minutes later, the first thing I did was apologize for my behavior. I didn’t excuse any of her behavior, but I apologized for my own. I had been pretty abrupt. I said, “Look, I can tell that something’s going on here, and I don’t know what it is.” I let her know that I really wanted to understand her, and I was finally able to create an atmosphere where she was willing to talk.
Somewhat hesitantly she began to share her feelings about being brand-new in high school: the struggle she was having trying to make good grades and make new friends. She said she was concerned about driving the car. It was such a new experience for her, and she worried whether she was going to be safe. She had just started a new part-time job and was wondering how her boss felt she was doing. She was taking piano lessons. She was teaching piano students. Her schedule was extremely busy.
Finally, I said, “Karen, you’re feeling totally overwhelmed.” And that was it. Bingo! She felt understood. She had been feeling overwhelmed by all these challenges, and her sarcastic comments and disrespect to her family were basically a cry for attention. She was saying, “Please, somebody, just listen to me!”
So I said to her, “Then when I asked you to treat us with a little more respect, that just sounded like one more thing for you to do.”
“That’s right!” she said. “Another thing for me to do—and I can’t handle what’s on my plate now.”
I got my wife involved, and the three of us sat down and brainstormed ways in which Karen might simplify her life. Ultimately, she decided to stop taking piano lessons and stop teaching her piano students—and she felt wonderful about it. In the weeks that followed, she was like a totally changed person.
From that experience she gained more confidence in her ability to make choices in her life. She knew her parents understood her and would support her. And soon after that, she decided to leave her job because it wasn’t as good a job as she wanted. She found a very good job elsewhere and reached manager status.
In looking back, I think much of that confidence came because we didn’t say, “Okay, there’s no excuse for behaving like that. You’re grounded!” Instead, we were willing to take the time to sit down and understand.
Notice how Karen’s father was able to rise above his concern about Karen’s outward behavior and seek to understand what was going on in her mind and heart. Only after doing this was he able to get at the real issue involved.
The argument between Karen and her parents was superficial. Karen’s behavior camouflaged the real concern. And as long as her parents focused only on her behavior, they never got to that concern. But then her father stepped out of the role of judge and became a genuinely concerned and affirming listener and friend. When Karen felt that her father really wanted to understand her, she began to feel safe in opening up and sharing on a deeper level. She herself may not even have realized what her own real concern was until she had someone who was willing to listen and give her the chance to get it out. Once the problem was clear and she really felt understood, Karen then wanted the guidance and direction her parents were able to give.
As long as we’re in the role of judge and jury, we rarely have the kind of influence we want. Perhaps you remember the story from the first chapter of this book of the man who “found his son again.” Do you remember how “overdrawn” that relationship was, how strained it was, how totally void of any authentic communication? (You may want to review that story here because it’s a wonderful example of the power of Habit 5.) That was another situation in which there were difficult, painful problems between parent and child, but there was no real communication. Only when the father stopped judging and really tried to understand his son was he able to begin to make a difference.
As long as we’re in the role of judge and jury, we rarely have the kind of influence we want.
In both these cases, parents were able to turn the situation around because they made the most significant deposit you can ever make into anyone’s Emotional Bank Account: They sought to understand.
Giving “Psychological Air”
One of the primary reasons seeking to understand is the first and most important deposit you can make is that it gives other people “psychological air.”
Try to remember a time when you had the wind knocked out of you and were gasping for air. At that moment, did anything else matter? Was anything as important as getting air?
That experience demonstrates why seeking to understand is so important. Being understood is the emotional and psychological equivalent of getting air, and when people are gasping for air—or for understanding—until they get it, nothing else matters. Nothing.
Sandra:
I remember one Saturday morning when Stephen was working at the office. I called him and said, “Stephen, come home fast. I’m going to be late for my appointment downtown, and I need help.”
“Why don’t you get Cynthia to help you?” he suggested. “She can take over, and you can be on your way.”
I replied, “She won’t help me at all. She’s totally uncooperative. I need you to come home.”
“Something must have happened in your relationship with Cynthia,” Stephen said. “Cure that relationship, and everything will work out.”
“Look, Stephen,” I said impatiently, “I don’t have time. I’ve got to go. I’m going to be late. Will you please just come home?”
“Sandra, it will take me fifteen minutes to get home,” he replied. “You can solve this thing in a matter of five or ten minutes if you’ll just sit down with her. Try to identify anything you’ve done that has in any way offended her. Then apologize. If you don’t find anything you’ve done, just say, ‘Honey, I’ve been rushing around so fast that I haven’t really paid attention to your concern. I can tell something is bothering you. What is it?’”
“I can’t think of a thing I’ve done to offend her,” I said.
“Well,” Stephen replied, “then just sit there and listen.”
So I went to Cynthia. At first she refused to cooperate. She was just kind of numb and stolid. She wouldn’t respond. So I said, “Honey, I’ve been rushing around and haven’t listened to you, and I sense something really important is bothering you. Would you like to talk about it?”
For a couple of minutes Cynthia refused to open up, but finally she blurted out, “It’s not fair! It’s not fair!” Then she talked about how she had been told she could have a sleep-over with her friends like her sister had had, and it never happened.
I just sat and listened. At that point I didn’t even attempt to solve the problem. But as she got out all her feelings, the air began to clear.
Suddenly she said, “Go on, Mom. Take off. I’ll take over.” She knew the challenge I had been going through—trying to handle all kinds of issues with the children when no one was being cooperative. But until she got that emotional air, nothing else mattered. Once she got that air, she was able to focus on the problem at hand and do what she knew she needed to do to help out.
Remember the phrase “I don’t care how much you know until I know how much you care.” People do not care about anything you have to say when they’re gasping for psychological air—to be understood, the first evidence of caring.
Think about it: Why do people shout and yell at each other? They want to be understood. They’re basically yelling, “Understand me! Listen to me! Respect me!” The problem is that the yelling is so emotionally charged and so disrespectful toward the other person that it creates defensiveness and more anger—even vindictiveness—and the cycle feeds on itself. As the interaction continues, the anger deepens and increases, and people end up not getting their point across at all. The relationship is wounded, and it takes far more time and effort to deal with the problems created by yelling at each other than simply practicing Habit 5 in the first place: exercising enough patience and self-control to listen first.
The deepest hunger of the human heart is to be understood.
Next to physical survival, our strongest need is psychological survival. The deepest hunger of the human heart is to be understood, for understanding implicitly affirms, validates, recognizes, and appreciates the intrinsic worth of another. When you really listen to another person, you acknowledge and respond to that most insistent need.
Knowing What Constitutes a “Deposit” in Someone’s Account
I have a friend who is happily married. For years her husband constantly said, “I love you,” and every so often he would bring her a single beautiful rose. She was delighted with this special communication of affection. It was a deposit in her Emotional Bank Account.
But she sometimes felt frustrated when he didn’t get to projects that she felt needed to be done around the home: hanging curtains, painting a room, building a cupboard. When he finally did get to these things, she responded as though he had suddenly made a hundred-dollar deposit into the account, compared to the ten-dollar deposits he was making whenever he gave her a rose.
This went on for years. Neither one of them really understood what was happening. And then one night as they were talking, she began to reminisce about her father, about how he was always working on projects around the house, repairing things that were broken, painting, or building something that would add to the value of their home. As she shared these things, she suddenly realized that to her, the things her father did represented a deep communication of his love for her mother. He was always doing things for her, helping her, making their home more beautiful to please her. Instead of bringing her roses, he planted rosebushes. Service was his language of love.
Without realizing it, our friend had transferred the importance of this form of communication to her own marriage. When her husband didn’t respond immediately to household needs, it became a huge but unrecognized withdrawal. And the “I love you’s” and the roses—though they were important to her—didn’t balance the account.
When they made this discovery, she was able to use her gift of self-awareness to understand the impact the culture in her own home had had on her. She used her conscience and creative imagination to look at her current situation with a new perspective. She used her independent will to begin to place greater value on her husband’s expressions.
In turn, her husband also engaged his four human gifts. He realized that what he had thought would be great deposits over the years were not as important to her as these little acts of service. He began communicating to her more often in this different language of love.
This story demonstrates another reason that seeking to understand is the first and foremost deposit you can make: Until you understand another person, you are never going to know what constitutes a deposit in his or her account.
Maria (daughter):
One time I planned an elaborate surprise birthday party for my husband, expecting him to be thrilled about it. He wasn’t! In fact, he hated it. He didn’t like a surprise party. He didn’t like a fuss being made over him. What he really would have liked was a nice, quiet dinner with me and a movie after. I have learned the hard way that it’s best to find out what’s really important to someone before trying to make a deposit.
It’s a common tendency to project our own feelings and motives on other people’s behavior. “If this means something to me, it must mean something to them.” But you never know what constitutes a deposit to others until you understand what is important to them. People live in their own private worlds. Your mission may be their minutia. It may not matter to them at all.
Each person needs to be loved in his or her own special way. The key to making deposits, therefore, is to understand—and to speak—that person’s language of love.
Because everyone is unique, each person needs to be loved in his or her own special way. The key to making deposits, therefore, is to understand—and to speak—that person’s language of love.
One father shared this experience of how understanding—rather than trying to “fix” things—worked in his family:
I have a ten-year-old daughter, Amber, who loves horses more than anything else in the world. Recently, her grandfather invited her to go on a daylong cattle drive. She was so excited. She was thrilled about the cattle drive and also about the fact that she would get to be with her grandfather, who also loves horses, all day long.
The night before the drive I came home from a trip to find Amber in bed with the flu. I said, “How are you doing, Amber?”
She looked at me and said, “I’m so sick!” And she started crying.
I said, “Boy, you must really feel bad.”
“It’s not that,” she said, sniffling. “I won’t be able to go on the cattle drive.” And she started crying again.
Through my mind went all of those things I thought a dad should say: “Oh, it will be fine. You can do it again. We’ll do something else instead.” But instead I just sat there and held her and didn’t say anything. I thought of times when I’d been bitterly disappointed. I just hugged her and felt her pain.
Well, the dam broke loose. She just bawled. She was shaking all over as I held her for a couple of minutes. And then it passed. She gave me a kiss on the cheek and said, “Thanks, Dad.” And that was it.
I thought again of all those wonderful things I could have said, all that advice I could have given. But she didn’t need that. She just needed someone to say, “It’s okay to be hurt, to cry when you’re disappointed.”
Notice how in both these situations people were able to make significant deposits into Emotional Bank Accounts. Because they sought to understand, they were able to speak their loved one’s language of love.
People Are Very Tender, Very Vulnerable Inside
Some years ago someone shared a beautiful expression with me anonymously through the mail. Reading this out loud slowly has moved audiences in incredible ways. It captures the essence of why Habit 5 is so powerful. I suggest you read it slowly and carefully, and attempt to visualize a safe setting where another person you care a lot about is really opening up.
Don’t be fooled by me. Don’t be fooled by the mask I wear. For I wear a mask. I wear a thousand masks—masks that I’m afraid to take off—and none of them is me. Pretending is an art that is second nature with me, but don’t be fooled.
I give the impression that I’m secure, that all is sunny and unruffled with me, within as well as without; that confidence is my name, and coolness is my game; that the waters are calm, and I’m in command and I need no one. But don’t believe it. Please don’t.
My surface may seem smooth, but my surface is my mask—my ever-varying and ever-concealing mask. Beneath lies no smugness, no coolness, no complacence. Beneath dwells the real me—in confusion, in fear, in loneliness. But I hide this; I don’t want anybody to know it. I panic at the thought of my weakness being exposed. That’s why I frantically create a mask to hide behind, a nonchalant sophisticated facade to help me pretend, to shield me from the glance that knows. But such a glance is precisely my salvation—my only salvation. And I know it. It’s the only thing that can liberate me from myself, from my own self-built prison walls, from the barriers I so painstakingly erect. But I don’t tell you this. I don’t dare. I’m afraid to.
I’m afraid your glance will not be followed by love and acceptance. I’m afraid that you’ll think less of me, that you’ll laugh, and that your laugh will kill me. I’m afraid that deep down inside I’m nothing, that I’m just no good, and that you’ll see and reject me. So I play my games—my desperate pretending games—with the facade of assurance on the outside and a trembling child within. And so begins the parade of masks, the glittering but empty parade of masks. And my life becomes a front.
I idly chatter with you in the suave tones of surface talk. I tell you everything that’s really nothing—nothing of what’s crying within me. So when I’m going through my routine, don’t be fooled by what I’m saying. Please listen carefully and try to hear what I’m NOT saying … what I would like to be able to say … what for survival I need to say, but I can’t say. I dislike the hiding. Honestly I do. I dislike the superficial phony games I’m playing. I’d really like to be genuine.
I’d really like to be genuine, spontaneous, and me; but you have to help me. You have to help me by holding out your hand, even when that’s the last thing I seem to want or need. Each time you are kind and gentle and encouraging, each time you try to understand because you really care, my heart begins to grow wings—very small wings, very feeble wings, but wings. With your sensitivity and sympathy, and your power of understanding, I can make it. You can breathe life into me. It will not be easy for you. A long conviction of worthlessness builds strong walls. But love is stronger than strong walls, and therein lies my hope. Please try to beat down those walls with firm hands, but with gentle hands, for a child is very sensitive, and I AM a child.
Who am I? you may wonder. I am someone you know very well. For I am every man, every woman, every child … every human you meet.
All people are very, very tender and sensitive. Some have learned to protect themselves from this level of vulnerability—to cover up, to pose and posture, to wear a safe “mask.” But unconditional love, kindness, and courtesy often penetrate these exteriors. They find a home in others’ hearts, and others begin to respond.
Creating a warm, caring, supportive, encouraging environment is probably the most important thing you can do for your family.
This is why it is so important to create a loving, nurturing environment in the home—an environment where it is safe to be vulnerable, to be open. In fact, the consensus of almost all experts in the field of marriage and family relations and child development is that creating such a warm, caring, supportive, encouraging environment is probably the most important thing you can do for your family.
And this does not mean just for little children. It also means for your spouse, your grandchildren, your aunts, uncles, nieces, nephews, cousins—everyone. The creation of such a culture—such an unconditionally loving and nurturing feeling—is more important than almost everything else put together. In a very real sense, to create such a nurturing culture is tantamount to having everything else put together.
Dealing with Negative Baggage
Creating such a culture is sometimes very difficult to do—especially if you’re dealing with negative baggage from the past and negative emotions in the present.
One man shared this experience:
When I met my future wife, Jane, she had a six-month-old boy named Jared. Jane had married Tom when they were both quite young, and neither of them had been ready for marriage by any stretch of the imagination. The realities and stresses of married life hit them hard. There was some physical violence involved, and he left her when she was about five months pregnant.
When I met Jane, Tom had filed for divorce and joint custody of the child he had never seen. It was a difficult, complicated situation. There were many bitter feelings. There was no communication between Jane and Tom whatever. The judge swayed heavily in favor of Jane.
After Jane and I married, I took a job that required us to move to another state. Every other month Tom would come and visit with Jared, and in alternating months we would make Jared available in California.
Things began to settle down in a way that seemed superficially okay. But I ended up doing most of the communicating between Jane and Tom. About one out of every three times that Tom would phone, Jane would hang up on him. Often Jane would leave before Tom got there for visitations, and I would be the one to see Jared off. Tom would frequently call me and say, “Should I talk to you about this, or should I talk to Jane?” It was very uncomfortable for me.
This spring, Tom called me and said, “Hey, Jared turns five in August, and then he will be legally able to fly by himself. Rather than my coming to visit out there where I sit in a hotel room with no car or friends, why don’t I pay for Jared to fly here?” I told him I would bring it up with Jane.
“No way!” she said emphatically. “Absolutely not! He’s just a little boy. He can’t even go to the bathroom on a plane by himself.” She wouldn’t even discuss it with me—and especially not with Tom. At one point she said, “Just leave it to me. I’ll handle it.” But as the months passed, nothing happened. Finally, Tom phoned me and said, “What’s happening? Is Jared going to fly down? What’s the deal?”
I was convinced that there was a lot of good potential in both Jane and Tom. I knew that if they could just be focused on doing the best thing for Jared, they could communicate and understand each other and work something out. But there were so many personal animosities and bitter feelings that they couldn’t see beyond them.
I tried to encourage them to have a discussion. I told them there would have to be strict guidelines to prevent verbal attacks and things of that nature. They both trusted me and agreed to do it. But I became increasingly nervous that I would not be able to facilitate that discussion because I was too close to it. I felt that one or both of them would end up hating me for one reason or another. In the past when Jane and I were having a discussion and I tried to look at an issue objectively, she would accuse me of taking “his” side. On the other hand, Tom felt that Jane and I had an agenda. I didn’t know what to do.
I finally decided to call Adam, a friend and coworker who facilitates the 7 Habits, and he agreed to talk with both of them. Adam taught them the principle of empathic listening. He taught them how to set aside their own autobiography and really listen to the words and feelings that were being expressed. After Jane shared some of her feelings, Adam said to Tom, “Now Tom, what did Jane just tell you?” He said, “She’s afraid of me. She’s afraid one day if I lose my temper I might slap Jared.” Jane was wide-eyed. She realized that Tom had been able to hear more than just her words. She said, “That’s exactly how I feel deep down in my heart. I’m worried that one day this man could easily lose it and hurt Jared.”
And after Tom expressed himself, Adam asked Jane, “What did Tom just say?” She replied, “He said, ‘I’m afraid of rejection. I’m afraid of being alone. I’m afraid no one cares at all.’” Even though she’d known him for fifteen years, Jane had no idea that Tom had been abandoned by his father when he was small and that he was determined not to do that to Jared. She didn’t realize how alienated he felt from her family after the divorce. For Tom it had been like being abandoned all over again. She began to realize how lonely Tom had been during the past five years. She began to understand how his declaration of bankruptcy a few years earlier made it impossible for him to get a credit card, so that when he came to visit Jared, he had no car. He was alone in a hotel room, with no friends and no transportation. And, she realized, we had just dropped Jared off.
Once Jane and Tom felt really understood and got down to the issues, they discovered that there was not a single thing on either of their lists that the other did not also want. They talked for three and a half hours, and the issue of visitation never even came up. Independently, they both told me later, “You know, this isn’t about Jared. It’s about trust between the two of us. Once we have this solved, the problem with Jared is a no-brainer.”
After this meeting with Adam, the atmosphere was much more relaxed and congenial. We all went to a restaurant together, and Jane said to Tom, “You know, it’s kind of tough with the kids here to talk about things, but when I come down next month for visitation, let’s take some time to talk.”
I thought, This is Jane talking? I had never heard her say anything like this before.
When we dropped Tom off at his hotel with Jared, Jane said, “What time are we picking Jared up tomorrow?”
He said, “Well, my shuttle to the airport leaves at 4:00 P.M.”
“Let us take you to the airport,” she said.
“That would be great, if you want to.”
“No problem,” she replied.
Again I was thinking, Wow! This is a major turnaround!
Two weeks later, Jane went down for visitation. One of her bones of contention had been that he never acknowledged what he had done to her. But when they had their talk, for the first time Tom apologized to her in great detail for everything. “I’m sorry for pulling your hair. I’m sorry for taking drugs. I’m sorry for walking out on you.” And this led her to say, “Well, I’m sorry, too.”
Following his visit with us, Tom began saying “thank you.” Tom had never said “thank you” for much of anything before. His conversations were now filled with thank-yous. And the week after his visit here, Jane received this brief letter from him:
Dear Jane,
I find it necessary to put in written word my thanks to you. We have shared so many ill feelings toward each other in the past, but the initial steps we took together last Saturday toward their resolution should be documented. And so … thank you.
Thank you for agreeing to meet with Adam. Thank you for sharing the things you shared. Thank you for listening to me. Thank you for the love from which we created our boy. Thank you for being his mother.
I mean it as sincerely as can be,
Tom
At the same time he sent me a letter.
Dear Mike,
I wanted to take a formal moment to thank you for putting Jane and me together with Adam. It has done more for my outlook toward my relationship with Jared and Jane than I can find the words for.…
Your desire to do what’s right both now and in past years is quite commendable. Without your good offices, there is no telling how ugly things would have gotten between Jane and me.…
My deepest appreciation,
Tom
When we received these letters, we were stunned. And in the phone conversations that followed, Jane said, “We talked almost like giddy school kids.” The understanding, the letting go, the forgiving, was so unleashing.
So many good things are happening now. Jane even went so far as to say to me, “Maybe when Tom comes up here, we could let him use one of our cars.” I had thought about that many times, but I didn’t dare mention it for fear of being accused of taking his side. I thought her attitude would be, “How dare you! You’re trying to accommodate the enemy.” But now she is recommending it. She even said, “What would you think about letting Tom stay in our spare room to help with his costs?” And I thought, Is this really Jane? It was a 180-degree turnaround.
I’m sure there will be challenges ahead, but I believe the groundwork has been laid. The tools for appropriate communication are there. There’s almost a feeling of deep respect now for one another and a genuine concern that I see in Jane and Tom for each other and for our kids.
It’s been a real challenge at times, but through it all it’s been crystal clear to me that anything less than this would make life worse for everyone.
Notice how Tom and Jane were able to rise above the hate, the blaming and accusing. They were able to diffuse the conflict and act based on principles instead of reacting to each other. How did they do that?
In seeking to understand each other, they both got psychological air. It freed them to stop fighting each other and to connect with their own inner gifts, particularly conscience and awareness. They became open, vulnerable. They were each able to acknowledge their part in the situation, to apologize, to forgive. And this healing, this cleansing, opened the door to more authentic relationships, to creating a synergy in which they were able to establish a better situation for their child, for themselves, and for everyone involved.
As you can see in this story—and in every other story in this chapter—not seeking to understand leads to judgment (usually misjudgment), rejection, and manipulation. Seeking to understand leads to understanding, acceptance, and participation. Obviously, only one of these paths is built on the principles that create quality family life.
Overcoming Anger and Offense
Probably more than any other single factor, what gets families off track and gets in the way of synergy is negative emotions, including anger and taking offense. Temper gets us into problems, and pride keeps us there. As C. S. Lewis said, “Pride is competitive in nature. Pride gets no pleasure out of having something, only out of having more of it than the next man.… It is the comparison that makes you proud: the pleasure of being above the rest. Once the element of competition has gone, pride has gone.”3 One of the most common and debilitating forms of pride is the need to be “right,” to have it your way.
Temper gets us into problems, and pride keeps us there.
Again, remember: Even if anger surfaces only one-tenth of 1 percent of the time, that will affect the quality of all the rest of the time because people are never sure when that raw nerve might be touched again.
I know of one father who was pleasant and agreeable most of the time, but on occasion his vicious temper was aroused. And this affected the quality of all the rest of the time because family members had to brace themselves for the possibility that it might happen again. They would avoid social situations for fear of embarrassment. They would walk around minefields throughout the day to avoid stepping on a raw nerve. They never became authentic or real or opened up. They never dared to give him feedback for fear that it would stir up the anger more than ever. And without feedback, this man lost all contact with what was really happening in his family.
When someone in the family becomes angry and loses control, the effects are so wounding, so intimidating, so threatening, so overpowering that others lose their bearings. They tend to either fight back, which only exacerbates the problem, or capitulate and give in to this win-lose spirit. And then even compromise is not likely. The more likely scenario is that people will separate and go their own ways, refusing to communicate at all about anything meaningful. They try to live with the satisfactions of independence, since interdependence seems too hard, too far off, and too unrealistic. And no one has the mind-set or the skill-set to go for it.
This is why it is so important when this kind of culture has developed for people to go deep within themselves. Then they can do the necessary work within to acknowledge their negative tendencies, to overcome them, to apologize to others, and to process their experiences so that gradually those labels are unfrozen and people can come to trust the basic structure, the basic relationship, again.
Taking offense is a choice. We may be hurt, but there is a big difference between being hurt and taking offense.
Of course, some of the most important inner work is prevention work. It includes making up our minds not to say or do those things we know will offend and learning to overcome our anger or to express it at better times and in more productive ways. We need to be deeply honest with ourselves and realize that most anger is merely guilt overflowing when provoked by the weakness of another. We can also make up our minds not to be offended by others. Taking offense is a choice. We may be hurt, but there is a big difference between being hurt and taking offense. Being hurt is having our feelings wounded—and it does smart for a time—but taking offense is choosing to act on that hurt by getting back, getting even, walking out, complaining to others, or judging the “offender.”
Most of the time offenses are unintentional. Even when they are intentional, we can remember that forgive—like love—is a verb. It’s the choice to move from reactivity to proactivity, to take the initiative—whether you’ve offended someone or been offended yourself—to go and make reconciliation. It’s the choice to cultivate and depend on an internal source of personal security so that we are not so vulnerable to external offenses.
And above all it’s the choice to prioritize the family, to realize that family is too important to let offenses keep family members from talking to one another, prevent grown brothers and sisters from going to family events, or weaken or break the intergenerational and extended family ties that provide such strength and support.
Interdependency is hard. It takes tremendous effort, constant effort, and courage. It’s much easier in the short run to live independently inside a family—to do your own thing, to come and go as you wish, to take care of your own needs, and to interact as little as possible with others. But the real joys of family life are lost. When children grow up with this kind of modeling, they think that is the way family is, and the cycle continues. The devastating effect of these cyclical cold wars is almost as bad as the destruction of the hot wars.
It’s often important to process negative experiences—to talk them through, resolve them, empathize with each other, and seek forgiveness. Whenever ugly experiences take place, you can unfreeze them by acknowledging your part in them and by listening empathically to understand how other people saw them and how they felt about them. In other words, by modeling vulnerability yourself, you can help others become vulnerable. The deepest bonding arises out of such mutual vulnerability. You minimize the psychic and social scarring, and clear the path to the creation of rich synergy.
Becoming a “Faithful Translator”
Really listening to get inside another person’s mind and heart is called “empathic” listening. It’s listening with empathy. It’s trying to see the world through someone else’s eyes. Of five different kinds of listening, it is the only one that really gets inside another person’s frame of reference.
You can ignore people. You can pretend to listen. You can listen selectively or even attentively. But until you listen empathically, you’re still inside your own frame of reference. You don’t know what constitutes a “win” for others. You don’t really know how they see the world, how they see themselves, and how they see you.
At one time I was in Jakarta, Indonesia, teaching the principle of empathic listening. As I looked out over the audience and saw many people wearing earphones, a thought came to me. I said, “If you want a good illustration of empathic listening, just think about what the interpreter or translator is doing right now through your earphones.” These translators were doing instantaneous translation, which meant that they had to be listening to what I was saying at the moment as well as restating what I had just said. It took incredible mental effort and concentration, and it required two translators to work in tandem, based on their level of fatigue. Both of those translators came up to me afterward and told me that what I had said was the finest compliment they had ever been given.
Even though you may be emotionally involved in a particular exchange with somebody, you can push your pause button and step outside of that emotion if you simply change the way you see your role—if you think of yourself as a “faithful translator.” Your job, then, is to translate and communicate back to the other person in new words the essential meaning (both verbal and nonverbal) of what that person communicated to you. In doing this you’re not taking a position yourself on what the person is talking about. You’re simply feeding back the essence of what he or she said to you.
One of the most effective ways to learn how to listen empathically is to simply change the way you see your role—to see yourself as a “faithful translator.”
Psychologist and author John Powell has said:
Listening in dialogue is listening more to meanings than to words.… In true listening, we reach behind the words, see through them, to find the person who is being revealed. Listening is a search to find the treasure of the true person as revealed verbally and nonverbally. There is the semantic problem, of course. The words bear a different connotation for you than they do for me.
Consequently, I can never tell you what you said, but only what I heard. I will have to rephrase what you have said, and check it out with you to make sure that what left your mind and heart arrived in my mind and heart intact and without distortion.
How to Do It: Principles of Empathic Listening
Now let’s go through a scenario together that will help us get at the heart of the understanding—or “faithful translator”—response.
Suppose for several days you’ve sensed that your teenage daughter is unhappy. When you’ve asked her what’s wrong, she’s replied, “Nothing. Everything’s okay.” But one night while you’re washing dishes together, she begins to open up.
“Our family rule that I can’t date until I’m older is embarrassing me to death. All my friends are dating, and that’s all they can talk about. I feel like I’m out of it. John keeps asking me out, and I have to keep telling him I’m not old enough. I just know he’s going to ask me to go to the party on Friday night, and if I have to tell him no again, he’ll give up on me. So will Carol and Mary. Everyone’s talking about it.”
How would you respond?
“Don’t worry about it, honey. No one is going to give up on you.”
“Just stick to your guns. Don’t worry about what others say and think.”
“Tell me what they’re saying about you.”
“When they talk about you like that, they’re really admiring you for your stand. What you’re feeling is normal insecurity.”
Any one of these might be a typical response, but not an understanding one.
“Don’t worry about it, honey. No one is going to give up on you.” This is an evaluating or judging response based on your values and your needs.
“Just stick to your guns. Don’t worry about what others say and think.” This is advising from your point of view or in terms of your needs.
“Tell me what they’re saying about you.” This response is probing for information you feel is important.
“When they talk about you like that, they’re really admiring you for your stand. What you’re feeling is normal insecurity.” This is interpreting what’s happening with your daughter’s friends and inside her as you see it.
Most of us either seek first to be understood, or if we do seek to understand, we are often preparing our response as we “listen.” So we evaluate, advise, probe, or interpret from our own point of view. And none of these is an understanding response. They all come out of our autobiography, our world, our values.
So what would an understanding response be?
First, it would attempt to reflect back what your daughter feels and says so that she feels you really understand. For example, you might say, “You feel kind of torn up inside. You understand the family rule about dating, but you also feel embarrassed when everyone else can date and you have to say no. Is that it?”
Then she might respond, “Yes, that’s what I mean.” And she might continue, “But the thing I’m really afraid of is that I won’t know how to act around boys when I do start dating. Everyone else is learning, and I’m not.”
Again, an understanding response would reflect back: “You feel somewhat scared that when the time comes, you won’t know what to do.”
She might say yes and go on further and deeper into her feelings, or she might say, “Well, not exactly. What I really mean is…” and she would go on to try to give you a clearer picture of what she’s feeling and facing.
If you look back at the other responses, you’ll see that none of them accomplishes the same results as the understanding response. When you give an understanding response, both of you gain a greater understanding of what she’s really thinking and feeling. You make it safe for her to open up and share. You make it comfortable for her to engage her own inner gifts to help deal with the concern. And you build the relationship, which will prove immensely helpful further down the road.
Let’s look at another experience that shows the difference between the typical and the empathic response. Consider the contrast in these two conversations between Cindy, a varsity cheerleader, and her mother. In the first, Cindy’s mother seeks first to be understood:
CINDY: Oh, Mom, I have some bad news. Meggie got dropped from the cheer squad today.
MOTHER: Why?
CINDY: She was caught in her boyfriend’s car on the school grounds, and he was drinking. If you get caught drinking on the school grounds, you get in big trouble. Actually, it’s not fair because Meggie wasn’t drinking. Just her boyfriend was drunk.
MOTHER: Well, Cindy, I think it serves Meggie right for keeping bad company. I’ve warned you that people will judge you by your friends. I’ve told you that a hundred times. I don’t see why you and your friends can’t understand. I hope that you learn a lesson from this. Life is tough enough without hanging around with someone like that guy. Why wasn’t she in class? I hope you were in class when all this was going on. You were, weren’t you?
CINDY: Mom, it’s okay! Mellow out. Don’t get so mad. It wasn’t me, it was Meggie. Gosh, all I wanted to do was tell you something about somebody else, and I get the ten-minute lecture on my bad friends. I’m going to bed.
Now look at the difference when Cindy’s mother seeks first to understand:
CINDY: Oh, Mom, I have some bad news. Meggie got dropped from the cheer squad today.
MOTHER: Oh, honey, you really seem upset.
CINDY: I feel so bad about it, Mom. It wasn’t her fault. It was her boyfriend’s. He’s a jerk.
MOTHER: Hmm. You don’t like him.
CINDY: I sure don’t, Mom. He’s always in trouble. She’s a good girl, and he drags her down. It makes me sad.
MOTHER: You feel he’s a bad influence on her, and that hurts you because she’s your good friend.
CINDY: I wish she’d drop this guy and go with someone nice. Bad friends get you in trouble.
Notice how this mother’s desire to understand was reflected in the way she responded to her daughter the second time. At that point she didn’t attempt to share her own experience or ideas—even though she may have had real value to add. She didn’t evaluate, probe, advise, or interpret. And she didn’t take Cindy on, although she may have disagreed with what her daughter seemed to be saying.
What she did was respond in a way that helped clarify her own understanding of what Cindy was saying and communicate that understanding back to Cindy. And because Cindy didn’t have to engage in a win-lose conversation with her mother, she was able to connect with her four gifts and come to a sense of the real problem on her own.
The Tip and the Mass of the Iceberg
Now, it’s not always necessary to reflect back in words what someone is saying and feeling in order to empathize. The heart of empathy is understanding how people see the situation and how they feel about it, and the essence of what they are trying to say. It’s not mimicking. It’s not necessarily summarizing. It’s not even attempting to reflect back in all cases. You may not need to say anything at all. Or perhaps a facial expression will communicate that you understand. The point is that you don’t get hung up on the technique of reflecting back but instead focus on truly empathizing and then allow that genuine, sincere emotion to drive your technique.
The problem comes when people think the technique is empathy. They mimic, use the same phrases repeatedly, and rephrase what others say in ways that seem manipulative or insulting. It’s like the story about the serviceman who was complaining to the chaplain about how much he hated army life.
The chaplain responded, “Oh, you don’t like army life.”
‘“Yeah,” said the serviceman. “And that C.O.! I couldn’t trust him as far as I could throw him.”
“You just feel that you couldn’t trust a C.O. as far as you could throw him.”
“Yeah. And the food—it’s so plain!”
“You feel that the food is really plain.”
The technique of empathic listening is just the tip of the iceberg. The great mass of the iceberg is a deep and sincere desire to truly understand.
“And the people—they’re so low-caliber.”
“You feel that the people are low-caliber.”
“Yeah … and what in the heck is wrong with the way I’m saying it anyway?”
It may be good to practice the skill. It may even increase the desire. But always remember that the technique is just the tip of the iceberg. The great mass of the iceberg is a deep and sincere desire to truly understand.
That desire is ultimately based on respect. This is what keeps empathic listening from becoming just a technique.
If this sincere desire to understand isn’t there, efforts to empathize will be sensed as manipulative and insincere. Manipulation means that the real motive is hidden even though good techniques are being used. When people feel manipulated, they are not committed. They may say “yes,” but they mean “no”—and it will be evidenced in their behavior later on. Pseudodemocracy eventually shows its true colors. And when people feel manipulated, a major withdrawal takes place, and your next efforts—even though sincere—will be perceived as another form of manipulation.
When you’re willing to acknowledge the true motive behind your methods, then truthfulness and sincerity replace manipulation. Others may not agree or go along, but at least you have been forthright. And nothing baffles a person who is full of tricks and duplicity more than simple, straightforward honesty on the part of another.
Based on respect and a sincere desire to understand, responses other than “reflective responses” can also become empathic. If someone were to ask you, “Where’s the rest room?” you wouldn’t just respond, “You’re really hurting.”
There are also times when, if you really understand, you can sense that someone wants you to probe. They want the additional perspective and insight your questions are based on. This might be compared to visiting a doctor. You want the doctor to probe, to ask about your symptoms. You know that the questions are based on expert knowledge and are necessary in order to give a proper diagnosis. So in this case probing becomes empathic rather than controlling and autobiographical.
When you sense that someone really wants you to ask questions to draw them out, you might consider questions such as these:
What are your concerns?
What is truly important to you?
What values do you want to preserve the most?
What are your most pressing needs?
What are your highest priorities in this situation?
What are the possible unintended consequences of such an action plan?
These kinds of questions can be combined with reflective statements such as:
I sense your underlying concern is …
Correct me if I’m wrong, but I sense that …
I’m trying to see it from your point of view, and what I sense is …
What I hear you saying is …
You feel that …
I sense you mean …
In the right situation any of these questions and phrases could show an attempt to achieve understanding or empathy. The point is that the attitude or desire is what must be cultivated first and foremost. The technique is secondary and flows out of the desire.
Empathy: Some Questions and Guidelines
As you work on Habit 5, you may be interested in the answers to some of the questions other people have asked over the years.
Is empathy always appropriate? The answer is “yes!” Without exception, empathy is always appropriate. But reflecting back, summarizing, and mirroring are sometimes extremely inappropriate and insulting. They may even be perceived as manipulation. So remember the heart of the matter is a sincere desire to understand.
What can you do if the other person doesn’t open up? Remember that 70 to 80 percent of all communication is nonverbal. In this sense you cannot not communicate. If you truly have an empathic heart, a heart that desires to understand, you will always be reading the nonverbal cues. You’ll be noticing body and face language, tone of voice, and context. Voice inflection and tone are the keys to discerning the heart on the phone. You’ll be attempting to discern the spirit and heart of another, so don’t force it. Be patient. You may even sense that you need to apologize or make restitution for some wrongdoing. Act on that understanding and do it. In other words, if you sense that the Emotional Bank Account is overdrawn, act on that understanding and make the appropriate deposits.
Remember that 70 to 80 percent of all communication is nonverbal. If you truly have an empathic heart, you will always be reading the nonverbal cues.
What are other expressions of empathy besides mirroring, summarizing, and reflecting techniques? Again, the answer is to do what the mass of the iceberg tells you—what your understanding of the person, the need, and the situation direct you toward. Sometimes total silence is empathic. Sometimes asking questions or using expert knowledge showing conceptual awareness is empathic. Sometimes a nod or a single word is empathic. Empathy is a very sincere, nonmanipulative, flexible, and humble process. You realize you’re on sacred ground and that the other person is perhaps even a little more vulnerable than you.
You may also find these guidelines helpful:
• The higher the trust level, the more you can easily move in and out of empathic and autobiographical responses—particularly between reflecting and probing. Negative and positive energy is often, though not always, a key indicator of the level of trust.
• If the trust is very high, you can be extremely candid and efficient with each other. But if you are attempting to rebuild trust or if it is somewhat shaky and the person won’t risk vulnerability, then you need to stay longer and with more patience in the empathic mode.
• If you’re not sure that you understand or if you’re not sure the other feels understood, then say that and try again.
• Just as you come from the depth of the iceberg under the water, learn to listen to the depth of the iceberg inside the other person. In other words, focus primarily on the underlying meaning, which is usually found more in feeling and emotion than in content or the words the person is using. Listen with the eyes and with the “third ear”—the heart.
• The quality in a relationship is perhaps the factor that most determines what is appropriate. Remember that relationships in the family require constant attention because the expectation of being emotionally nurtured and supported is constant. This is where people get into trouble—when they take others, particularly their loved ones, for granted and treat a stranger at the door better than the dearest people in their lives. There must be constant effort in the family to apologize, to ask for forgiveness, to express love, appreciation, and the valuing of others.
• Read the context, the environment, the culture so that the technique you use is not interpreted differently from what you intended. Sometimes you have to be very explicit by saying, “I’m going to try to understand what you mean. I am not going to evaluate, agree, or disagree at all. I am not going to try to ‘figure you out.’ I want to understand only what you want me to understand.” And that understanding often comes only when you also understand the “bigger picture.”
When you are truly empathizing, you are also understanding what’s going on in the relationship and in the nature of the communication taking place between you—not just in the words the other person is attempting to communicate. You are empathic about the whole context as well as the meaning that is being communicated. And then you act based on that larger empathic understanding.
For instance, if the entire history of the relationship is one of judging and evaluation, the very effort to empathize will probably be seen in that context. To change the relationship will probably require apologizing and deep interior work to make sure one’s attitude and behavior are congruent with that apology, and then being open and sensitive to opportunities to show understanding.
I remember one time when Sandra and I had been on our son’s case for several weeks regarding his schoolwork. One evening we asked him if he wanted to go to dinner with us as a kind of special date. He said he wanted to go and asked who else was going. We said, “No one else. This is just a special time with you.”
He then said that he didn’t want to go. We talked him into it, but there was very little openness in spite of our best efforts to show understanding. Near the end of the dinner we began talking about another issue that was indirectly related to schoolwork, and the emotional energy was such that it drove us into the sensitive subject and caused bad feelings and further defensiveness on everyone’s part. Later, when we apologized, this son told us, “This is why I didn’t want to go to dinner.” He knew it would be another judgment experience. It took us some time to make enough deposits so that he trusted the relationship and became open again.
One of the greatest things we’ve learned in this area is that mealtimes should always be happy, pleasant occasions for eating, sharing pleasant talk, and learning—sometimes even serious discussions about various intellectual or spiritual topics—but never a place for disciplining, correcting, or judging. When people are extremely busy, they may be with their family only at mealtimes, and they therefore try to take care of all important family matters then. But there are other, better times to handle these things. When mealtimes are pleasant and devoid of judgment or instruction, people look forward to them and to being together. It is well worth the careful planning and considerable discipline it takes to preserve the happiness and pleasantness of mealtimes and to make dinner a time when family members enjoy one another and feel relaxed and emotionally safe.
When relationships are good—and both parties are genuinely understanding—people can often rapidly communicate with unusual candor. Sometimes just a few nods or an “uh-huh” is sufficient. In these situations people can cover great territory rapidly with each other. An outsider, watching this without understanding the quality of the relationship and the larger context, might observe that there was no reflective listening or understanding or empathy taking place at all, when in fact it was deeply empathic and very efficient.
Sandra and I were able to achieve this level of communication in our own marriage on that sabbatical in Hawaii. Through the years, we have fallen back into old ways from time to time. But we find that by working at it, we are able to regain it fairly rapidly. So much depends on the amount of emotion being generated, the nature of the subject, the time of the day, the level of our personal fatigue, and the nature of our mental focus.
Many people struggle with this iceberg approach to empathy because it’s not as easy as skill development. It requires a great deal more internal work, and it takes more of an inside-out approach. With skill development you can get better just by practicing.
The Second Half of the Habit
“Seek first to understand” does not mean seek only to understand. It doesn’t mean that you bag your role to teach and influence others. It simply means that you listen and understand first. And as you can see in the examples given, this is actually the key to influencing others. When you are open to their influence, you’ll find you almost always have greater influence with them.
Now we come to the second half of the habit —“seek to be understood.” This has to do with sharing the way you see the world, with giving feedback, with teaching your children, with having the courage to confront with love. And when you attempt to do any of these things, you can readily see another very practical reason for seeking first to understand: When you really understand someone, it’s much easier to share, to teach, to confront with love. You know how to speak to others in the language they understand.
One woman shared this experience:
For a long time in our marriage, my husband and I did not see eye to eye on spending. He would want to buy things I felt were unnecessary and expensive. I couldn’t seem to explain to him the pain I felt as the debt kept mounting and we had to spend more and more of our income on interest and credit card bills.
Finally, I decided I needed to find a different way of expressing my point of view and to influence the situation. I tried to listen more, to understand how he was thinking. I came to realize that he was more of a “big picture” thinker, but sometimes he just didn’t see the connection between his spending decisions and the consequences they brought.
So when he would say, “You know, it would really be nice to have [something],” instead of arguing with him, I began to say, “You know, it really would. Let’s see what would happen if we bought that. Let’s look at the big picture.” And I would take out the budget and say, “Now, if we spend this here, we won’t have money to do that.” I found that when he saw the consequences of spending decisions, he often came to the conclusion himself that we were better off not buying the item in question.
In doing this I also discovered that with some of the purchases he wanted to make, the benefits actually outweighed the drawbacks. He wanted to buy a computer, for example. I was not in favor of this at first, but when I calculated the difference it would make in our earning capacity, I could see that my response came out of the baggage of the past instead of the logic of the present.
I also found that having a financial mission statement helped keep us both on track. When we had a shared purpose in front of us, it became much easier for us to work together to accomplish it.
Notice how understanding helped this couple work together to make better decisions. But notice, too, how understanding the way her husband thought made it possible for this woman to “seek to be understood” much more effectively. She was able to communicate better because she knew how to express her ideas in the language he understood.
Giving Feedback
I know of one man whom people generally consider to be easygoing and accepting of others. One day his wife said, “Our married children have told me that they feel you are too controlling in your relationship with them. They adore you in many ways, but they resent the way you try to channel their activities and their energy.”
This man was devastated. His first response was “There’s no way the children would ever say such a thing! You know that isn’t true. I never interfere in any way with their desires. Such talk is ridiculous, and you know it as well as I do!”
“Nevertheless, that’s the way they feel,” she replied. “And I have to tell you that I’ve noticed it, too. You have a way of pressuring them to do what you think is best.”
“When? When? When did I ever do that? Just tell me one time when I did that.”
“Do you really want to hear?”
“No, I don’t want to hear, because it isn’t true!”
There are times when “being understood” means giving feedback to other family members. And this can be very hard to do. People often don’t want to hear feedback. It doesn’t match the image they have of themselves, and they don’t want to hear anything that reflects an image that is any less than the one they have in their minds.
When you really love someone, you need to care enough to confront—but in ways that have positive energy and show respect.
Everyone has “blind spots”—areas in their lives that they don’t even see but that need to be changed or improved. So when you really love someone, you need to care enough to confront—but in ways that are filled with positive energy and respect. You need to be able to give feedback in a way that actually builds the Emotional Bank Account instead of making withdrawals.
When you need to give feedback, you may find these five keys helpful:
1. Always ask yourself, “Will this feedback really be helpful to this person, or does it just fulfill my own need to set this person straight?” If there’s any anger inside you, it’s probably not the time or the place to give feedback.
2. Seek first to understand. Know what’s important to the person and how your feedback will help that person accomplish his or her goals. Always try to speak that person’s language of love.
3. Separate the person from the behavior. We must continually strive to do this and never judge the person. We might judge the behavior against standards and principles. We might describe our feelings and observe the consequences of this behavior. But we must absolutely refuse to put a label on another person. It is so damning to the person and to the relationship. Instead of describing a person as “lazy” or “stupid” or “selfish” or “dominating” or “chauvinistic,” it is always better to describe instead our observation of the consequences of these behaviors and/or our own feelings, concerns, and perceptions that flow from these behaviors.
4. Be especially sensitive and patient regarding blind spots. They are “blind” spots because they’re too sensitive to be admitted into conscious awareness. Unless people are prepared to improve things they already know should be improved, giving them information on blind spots is threatening and counterproductive. Also, don’t give feedback on something they can’t realistically do anything about.
5. Use “I” messages. When you give feedback, it’s important to remember that you’re sharing your own perception—the way you see the world. So give “I” messages: “This is my perception.” “My concern is…” “This is how I see it.” “This is the way I feel.” “This is what I observed.” The moment you start sending “you” messages—“You are so self-centered!” “You are causing so much trouble!”—you’re playing God. You’re making yourself the ultimate judge of that person. It’s as if that’s the way the person is. And this becomes a huge withdrawal. What offends people the most—particularly when their heart is right but their behavior is wrong—is the idea that they’re fixed, labeled, categorized, judged. That they can’t change. “I” messages are more horizontal—between human equals. “You” messages are more vertical, indicating that one is better or of greater worth than another.
I remember one time when Sandra and I were concerned about what we felt was a selfish pattern developing in one of our sons. It had been going on for a relatively long period of time, and it was becoming offensive to everyone in the family. We could easily have given quick feedback—just fed it to him really fast and hoped the pattern would change. We’ve done that sometimes. But in this case I said to myself, I’ve really got to pay the price on this one. This is a deeply embedded tendency, but this is not his nature. This is not like him. He has so much graciousness and selflessness and goodness. He needs to know how we feel about his actions.
“I” messages are more horizontal—between human equals. “You” messages are more vertical, indicating that one person is better or of greater worth than another.
At the time, we were on a family vacation at a lake. I asked him if he wanted to go for a ride around the lake on our trail cycle. We went for a long, long ride. We took our time. We stopped for drinks at a fresh stream. We were gone probably two and a half to three hours and had a great time. The depth of our interaction, the laughter, the fun, really enhanced our relationship.
Toward the end of our time together, I finally said to him, “Son, one of the reasons I wanted to have this private time with you is that your mother and I have a concern. Would you mind if I shared it with you?”
He said, “Not at all, Dad.”
So I shared with him what we were feeling. He wasn’t offended because I was describing us, not him. “This is what’s concerning us. This is what we feel. This is our perception.” I wasn’t saying, “You are so selfish. You are offending the entire family.”
As well as sharing our concerns, I also shared our perception of his true nature. And the immediate response was so positive! He said, “Oh, yeah, Dad, I can see that. I guess I’ve just really been into myself, and that’s not right.” And he acknowledged this to his mother and to other family members, and he began a process of what you might call “going the second mile.”
Carl Rogers—one of the truly great and insightful researchers and writers on the subject of communication—created a “congruency” model that teaches the importance of both self-awareness and courage to express that awareness in communicating with others. He taught that when people are not aware of what they are feeling inside, they are “incongruent” within. They then have a tendency to intellectualize, compartmentalize, or unknowingly project their own motives on another. This internal incongruency is sensed by others and contributes to an inauthentic communication that is superficial and boring—like small talk at parties.
But he also taught that when people are internally congruent—that is, they’re aware of what they’re feeling—but they deny it and try to act or express themselves otherwise, this external incongruency is usually called insincerity, posturing, or even hypocrisy.
Both forms of incongruency undermine the ability to listen fully to another, and that’s why a great deal of interior work must be done—both to grow in self-awareness and to have the courage to authentically express what you are feeling and thinking inside through authentic “I” messages rather than judgment messages.
We simply must care enough to confront other people. Often the key to developing strong and deep relationships with people is to level with them, to speak the truth in love—to not give in to them but to not give up on them, either. This takes time and patience, but it also takes tremendous courage and the skill of knowing when and how to give “I” messages with respect and tact—sometimes even with forcefulness and sharpness. There are times when really loving people means giving them a shock treatment—shocking them into an awareness of what they’re doing—and then showing more love than ever afterward so they know you really care.
As I think about students I’ve taught over the years, the ones with whom I’ve had the deepest continuing relationships and who have expressed the deepest appreciation to me are usually those with whom I really “leveled” at an appropriate time and place. I was even able to help them understand their blind spots and the ultimate consequences of those blind spots, and to help them work through the process of getting on a growth track.
Joshua (son):
One nice thing about having older brothers or sisters is the feedback they give you.
When I come home from a high school basketball or football game, Mom and Dad will meet me at the door and go over all the key plays that I made. Mom will rave about the talent I have, and Dad will say it was my leadership skills that directed the team to victory.
When Jenny comes in the kitchen to join us, I’ll ask her how I did. She’ll tell me how ordinary I played, and I’d better get my act together if I want to keep my starting position, and she hopes I’ll play better the next game and not embarrass her.
Now that’s feedback!
Whenever you give feedback, always remember that the relationship—the level of trust in the Emotional Bank Account—determines the level of communication you will have. Remember, too, that “I” messages build that account. They are affirming, especially when you couch constructive feedback in the best “I” message of all: “I love you. I believe you are a person of infinite worth. I know this behavior is just a tiny part of all that you are. And all that you are, I love!”
Without question, those three magic words, “I love you,” are the most sought-after message of all. I remember arriving home one evening after a full day of travel that included covering hundreds of miles on an airplane, navigating through crowded airports, and driving home through the traffic. I was literally exhausted.
When I went into the house, I was met by my son who had spent almost all day cleaning up a workroom. The project had involved tremendous effort—carrying things, cleaning out things, throwing away the “junk.” He was only a little boy but old enough to have judgment on which things to keep and which to throw out based on the guidelines I had given him.
As soon as I came into the room to look at it, my first observation was negative: “Why didn’t you do this? Why didn’t you do that?” I even forget now what it was he didn’t do. But what I do remember—and will never forget—was watching the light go out of his eyes. He had been so excited, so thrilled with what he had done—and so anxious for my favorable approval. He had lived on the energy of that positive expectation for hours as he did this work. And now my first observation was negative.
When I saw the light go out of his eyes, I knew immediately that I had made a mistake. I tried to apologize. I tried to explain. I tried to focus on the good things he had done and to express my love and appreciation for it all, but the light never came back that entire evening.
It wasn’t until several days later in talking more fully about the experience and processing it that his feelings came out. This taught me forcibly that when people have done their best, whether it meets your standards or not is irrelevant. That is the time to give them appreciation and praise. When someone has completed a major task or project, or has accomplished something that required supreme effort, always express admiration, appreciation, and praise. Never give negative feedback—even though it may be deserved and even though you do it in a constructive way and with good motives in order to help the person do better. Give the constructive feedback at a later time when the person is ready for it.
But at the time, praise the effort. Praise the heart that went into it. Praise the worth of the person, the personal identity that was transmitted into the project or work. You’re not compromising your integrity when you take such an encouraging, appreciating, affirming approach. You’re simply focusing on that which is more important than some nervous definition of excellence.
Nurturing a Habit 5 Culture
As in every other habit, the real fruits of Habit 5 are not just in the momentary “aha!” that comes when you have a one-time glimpse of real understanding of another person. They’re in the habit—in the cumulative effect of constantly seeking to understand and to be understood in the day-to-day interactions of family life. And there are several ways you can develop this kind of Habit 5 culture in the home.
One woman shared this experience:
Several years ago we had two teenage boys who often got into squabbles. When we learned about Habit 5, we decided that this might be the key to greater peace in our home.
During one of our weekly family times, we introduced the idea to the boys. We taught them the process of empathic listening. We role-played situations where two people disagreed, and we showed them how one person could let go of judgment or trying to make a point and simply seek to understand. Then when that person felt totally understood, the other person could do the same. We told the boys that if they got into any squabble during the week, we were going to put them in a room together and they couldn’t come out until they were both convinced that they were understood.
When the first squabble came up, I put them in a room where they could be alone. I sat them down on two chairs and said, “Okay, Andrew, you tell David exactly how you feel.” He started to talk, but before he could get out two sentences, David interrupted by saying, “Hey, that’s not how it happened!”
I said, “Wait a minute! It’s not your turn yet. Your job is simply to understand what Andrew is saying and be able to explain his position to his satisfaction.”
David rolled his eyes. We tried again.
About five sentences later, David jumped out of his chair. “That’s not right!” he yelled. “You were the one who—”
“David!” I said. “Sit down. Your turn will come. But not before you can explain to me what Andrew is saying and he is satisfied that you really understand. You might as well sit down and try to listen. You don’t have to agree with Andrew; you just have to explain his view of this to his satisfaction. You can’t tell your side of this issue until you can completely explain his.”
David sat down. For a few more minutes he made noises of disgust at some of the things Andrew said. But when he realized that he really wasn’t going anywhere until he could do this, he settled down and tried to understand.
Each time he thought he understood, I asked him to repeat back to Andrew what Andrew had just said. “Is that right, Andrew? Is that what you said?”
And each time Andrew said either “That’s right!” or “No. David doesn’t understand what I was trying to say,” and we’d try again. Finally we reached the point where David was able to explain how Andrew felt to Andrew’s satisfaction.
Then it was David’s turn. It was almost funny to see how, when he tried to return to his own point of view, his feelings had actually changed. He did see some things differently, but much of the wind had been taken out of his sails when he realized how Andrew saw the situation. And feeling genuinely understood, Andrew was much more willing to listen to David’s point of view. So the boys were able to talk without getting into blaming and accusing. And once all the feelings were out, they found it relatively easy to come up with a solution they both felt good about.
That first experience took about forty-five minutes of their time and mine. But it was worth it! The next time it happened, they knew what we were going to do. As we kept working at it over the years, we found it often wasn’t easy. Sometimes there were intense feelings and deep issues involved. There were even times when they would start to get into an argument and suddenly stop, realizing they would rather be free to be with their friends than spend half an hour in a room together working things out. But the more they did it, the better they got.
One of my best moments as a parent came several years after they had both left home. One had been in another state and one in another country, and they hadn’t seen each other in several years. They came to our home to go through some things that had been left to them by their great-grandfather. Their camaraderie was wonderful. They laughed and joked together, and enjoyed each other immensely. And when the time came to decide who got what, they were extremely solicitous of each other. “You could use this—you take it.” “I know you would like to have this. You take it.”
It was easy to see they had a win-win attitude, and it grew out of a deep understanding of each other. I am convinced that seeking to understand each other as they were growing up made a big difference.
Notice how this woman patiently used family time to teach the principles of empathic listening in her home. Notice how she followed through in helping them integrate the principles into their daily lives, and notice the fruits of such efforts years later.
In our own family we have found this one simple ground rule to be very powerful in creating legitimacy for empathic listening in the culture: Whenever there is a difference or disagreement, people can’t make their own point until they restate the other person’s point to that person’s satisfaction. This is amazingly powerful. It might be prefaced with words to this effect, particularly if you sense that people have already made up their minds and are basically just going to fight each other: “We are going to be talking about important things that people have strong feelings about. To help us in this communication, why don’t we agree to this simple little ground rule”—and then state the rule. Initially, this approach may seem to slow things down, but in the long run it saves tenfold on time, nerves, and relationships.
We’ve also tried to organize so that all family members know they will get “their day in court” in one-on-ones or in family meetings. Regarding family meetings, we developed a process of problem-solving in which the person who had the concern or the problem would take the responsibility to lead the family through that meeting on the problem itself. We posted a sheet of paper on the refrigerator, and anyone who wanted to talk about any issue, problem, hope, or plan would simply write the issue and his or her name on the paper. This paper helped us develop the content for the family council discussion. And each person who put an item on the agenda was responsible to take us all through the process of solving the problem or doing whatever it involved.
We found that when the culture basically rewards those who speak up first and those who take action first, then other people feel their day in court never comes. Feelings gradually begin to go inside, where they remain bottled up and unexpressed. And those unexpressed feelings never die. They are buried alive and come forth later in uglier ways—in overreactive comments, in anger, in violent verbal or physical expressions, in psychosomatic illnesses, in giving people the silent treatment, in extreme statements or judgments, or in simply acting out in other dysfunctional and hurtful ways.
When people know they will have their day in court, they can relax. They know that their time to be heard and understood will come.
But when people know they will have their day in court—that is, they will have an opportunity to be fully heard and to process others’ reactions to what they say—they can relax. They don’t have to become impatient and overreactive because they know that their time to be heard and understood will come. This dissipates negative energy and helps people develop internal patience and self-control.
This is one of the great strengths of Habit 5. And if you can cultivate a family culture where Habit 5 is central to the whole way of dealing with things, then everyone will feel that his or her day in court will come. And this eliminates many of the foolish, impulsive reactions people get into when they feel they will not be heard.
We have to admit, though, that even with all our effort to ensure that everyone in the family is heard, some have had to be really proactive to make it happen.
Jenny (daughter):
Growing up in a family of nine kids sometimes made it difficult for me to get the attention I wanted. There was always so much going on at our home, and everyone was constantly talking or doing something. So in order for me to get attention, I would motion to Dad or Mom to come over, and I would whisper whatever I had to say. I made sure that I whispered soft enough that they would have to give me their full attention and make everyone else be quiet. It worked.
Making sure you are heard—and understood—is what the second half of Habit 5 is all about.
Understanding Developmental Stages
Another way you can practice Habit 5 in the home is to seek to understand the way your children see the world by becoming aware of their “ages and stages.”
Growth is based on universal principles. A child learns to turn over, to sit, to crawl, then to walk and run. Each step is important. No step can be skipped. Of necessity, some things must come ahead of other things.
As surely as this is true in the area of physical things, it is also true in the areas of emotions and human relations. But while things in the physical area are seen and constant evidence is supplied, things in the other areas are largely unseen and evidence is not as direct or as plain. It is tremendously important, therefore, that we understand not only the physical but also the mental, emotional, and spiritual stages of development, and that we never attempt to shortcut, violate, or bypass the process.
If we do not make a sincere effort to understand our children’s development and to communicate with them on their level of awareness, we often find ourselves making unreasonable expectations of them and being frustrated when we can’t seem to get through.
I remember one afternoon I found myself criticizing our young son for throwing all his clothes in a heap on the floor of his room. I said, “Don’t you realize you shouldn’t do this? Don’t you understand what will happen, how your clothes will get dirty and wrinkled like this?”
This son didn’t resist me. He didn’t rebel. He agreed. I even sensed he wanted to do as I asked. But still, day in and day out, he threw his clothes on the floor.
Finally, one day I thought, Maybe he simply doesn’t know how to hang up his clothes. He’s just a little kid. So I took half an hour to train him in hanging up his clothes. We practiced how to take his Sunday suit pants by the cuffs, hang them over the bottom wire of the hanger, and then put the hanger on the lower bar of the closet. We practiced how to button up the front of his shirt, turn it over, fold one third of each side toward the center, fold the sleeves in, and lay the shirt in his drawer.
He really enjoyed the training. In fact, when we were through, we even took all his clothes out of his closet and hung them back up again, we were having so much fun. There was a good feeling between us, and he learned. He was able to do the job well.
As I discovered with this son, the problem was not that he didn’t recognize the importance of hanging up his clothes. It wasn’t even that he didn’t want to hang up his clothes. It was simply that he didn’t have the competency; he didn’t know how to do it.
Years later, as a teenager, this son had the same problem again. But the nature of the problem at that point wasn’t competence, it was motivation. And it took a motivational solution to solve it.
The first key in solving any training problem is to diagnose it correctly. You wouldn’t bring in a cardiologist if you had a foot problem. You wouldn’t bring in a plumber if the roof leaked. Neither can you solve a competency problem with a value or motivational solution—or vice versa.
When we want a child to perform a task in our family, I’ve found it helpful to always ask three questions:
Should the child do it? (a value question)
Can the child do it? (a competency question)
Does the child want to do it? (a motivation question)
Based on the response, we know where to direct our effort effectively. If it’s a value question, the solution usually lies in building the Emotional Bank Account and educating. If it’s a competency question, the answer generally lies in training. There’s a difference between education and training. Education means “to draw forth”—in this case, to provide a deep and proper explanation that tends to draw forth the sense of “this is what I should do.” Training means “to put in”—in this case, to put into the child the knowledge of how to do the task. Both educating and training are important, and which you would use depends on the nature of the problem. If the value question is one of competing “shoulds”—“Should I do my chores or party with my friends?”—then the key is in the quality of the relationship and the character and culture of the family.
If it’s a question of motivation, the answer generally lies in reinforcing the desired behavior either extrinsically or intrinsically, or in combination. You could provide extrinsic rewards (such as an allowance or recognition or some privilege or “perk”) or you could stress the intrinsic rewards (the inner peace and satisfaction that comes when people do things because they’re the right thing to do, when they listen to and obey their conscience). Or you could do both. To determine the nature of the problem is a Habit 5 (Seek first to understand, then to be understood) issue.
Over the years Sandra has brought unbelievable enlightenment and intuitive wisdom to our family in the area of understanding the developmental stages of our children. She graduated from college with a degree in child development and has both studied and practiced it all her adult life. As a result, she has gained tremendous insights into the importance of listening to your heart and to the natural developmental stages children go through.4
Sandra:
I was in a grocery store the other day and saw a young mother struggling with her two-year-old. She quietly tried to comfort, console, and reason with him, but he was completely out of control—shaking, screaming, sobbing, and holding his breath until he broke into a temper tantrum, to the distress of his embarrassed, desperate mother.
As a mother, my heart reached out to her as she tried to come to grips with the situation. I wanted to tell her all the rational thoughts that raced through my mind in rapid succession: Don’t take it personally. Act in a matter-of-fact way. Don’t reward this kind of behavior. Don’t let this child get any mileage out of this episode. Remind yourself that two-year-olds aren’t yet emotionally able to handle complex emotions (exhaustion, temper, stress), and so they blow a fuse and break the circuit with a tantrum.
After you’ve gone through it a few times, you start to recognize that a child behaves the way he does partly because he’s at a certain stage of growth. Development occurs one step at a time, in a kind of predictable sequence. We often hear phrases such as “the terrible twos,” “the trusting threes,” “the frustrating fours,” and “the fascinating fives” used to describe phases of behavior—often predicting hard times during the even years and hoping for smoother sailing during the odd years.
Each child is an individual and different from all others, yet all seem to follow a similar path. Solitary play will gradually evolve into parallel play. These little people, side by side with separate toys and different dialogues, will eventually be able to interact with one another in cooperative play as they grow and mature. Similarly, a child needs to feel ownership and must possess before he can share, crawl before he can walk, understand before he can talk. It’s important for us to be aware of this process—to notice, read about, and learn to recognize growth patterns and stages of development in our own children and their peers.
In so doing you don’t take it personally when your two-year-old breaks away, defies you with a “no!” and tries to establish himself as an independent person. You don’t overreact when your four-year-old uses toilet words and shocking language to get your attention and vacillates between being a self-confident, capable child and a regressive, whiny baby. You don’t call up your mother in tears, confessing that your six-year-old cheats, lies, and steals in order to be first or best, and that your nine-year-old thinks you are dishonest and have no character because you often drive over the speed limit and were caught telling a white lie. Neither do you excuse irresponsible behavior in the name of growth and development or label your child because of birth order, socioeconomic position, or IQ.
Each family learns to understand and solve its own problems by applying the best knowledge, insight, and intuition it has. This might include repeating to yourself phrases such as “This too will pass,” “Steady as she goes,” “Roll with the punches,” “Someday we’ll laugh at this”—or holding your breath and counting to ten before you respond.
The Sequence Is the Key
As you teach Habit 5 to your family and as you begin to operate in your Circle of Influence to live Habit 5 yourself, you will be amazed at the impact it will have on your family culture—even on small children. One father shared this:
I realized the impact of seeking first to understand in the family the other day when I was watching our three sons interact.
Jason, who is one and a half, had just knocked over Matt’s toys, and Matt, who is four years old and not too articulate, was just about to slug his baby brother.
Just at that time Todd, our six-year-old, walked over to Matt and said, “You’re feeling really angry now, aren’t you, Matt? Baby Jason just knocked down all your toys, and you are so angry you want to hit him.” Matt looked at Todd for a moment, mumbled a few words, raised his hands, and walked out of the room.
I thought to myself, Wow, this really works!
Remember, the key to Habit 5 is in the sequence. It’s not just what to do, it’s also why and when. Habit 5 helps us listen—and speak—from the heart. It also opens the door to the incredible family synergy we’ll talk about as we move into Habit 6.
SHARING THIS CHAPTER WITH ADULTS AND TEENS
Seek First to Understand
• Review the Indian/Eskimo perception experience. Explore the value of realizing that people do not see the world as it is but as they are, or as they have been conditioned to see it.
• Discuss together: How important is it to truly understand and empathize with each family member? How well do we really know the members of our family? Do we know their stresses? Their vulnerabilities? Their needs? Their views about life and about themselves? Their hopes and expectations? How can we get to know them better?
• Ask family members: Do we see some of the fruits of not understanding in our home, such as frustration over unclear expectations, judgment, slamming doors, blaming and accusing, rudeness, poor relationships, sadness, loneliness, or crying? Discuss what family members could do to ensure that everyone has the opportunity to be heard.
• Give some thought to the way you deal with family communication. Discuss the four major autobiographical responses—evaluating, advising, probing, and interpreting (here). Practice together learning how to give an understanding response.
• Review the guidelines here and the story here. Discuss how this information can help you practice Habit 5 in your family.
Then Seek to Be Understood
• Review the material here. Discuss why seeking first to understand is fundamental to being understood. How can it help you better communicate in the language of the listener?
• Consider together how you can nurture a Habit 5 “understanding culture” in your home.
SHARING THIS CHAPTER WITH CHILDREN
• Take the children through the Indian/Eskimo perception experience. When they are able to see both pictures, talk about how there are usually two or more ways of looking at things, and how we really don’t always see or experience things in the same way others do. Encourage them to share any experiences when they felt misunderstood.
• Get several pairs of glasses—some prescription, some sunglasses. Let each child look at the same object through a different set of glasses. One might say it’s blurry, dark, blue-tinted, or clear, all depending on what glasses he or she is wearing. Explain that the differences in what they see represent the different ways people see things in life. Let them trade glasses to get an idea of seeing something the way someone else sees it.
• Prepare a “taste” platter with a number of different items of food on it. Let everyone taste each item. Compare responses, and talk about how some people may really love a particular food, such as sour pickles, that others find distasteful or bitter. Point out how this is symbolic of how differently people experience life, and explain how important it is for all of us to really understand how other people may experience things differently than we do.
• Visit an older family member or friend and ask him or her to share an experience from the past with your children. After the visit, share any information you have that would increase your children’s understanding of what things were like when that person was younger. “Did you know that Mr. Jacobs used to be a tall, good-looking policeman?” “Mrs. Smith was once a schoolteacher and all the kids loved her.” “Grandmother was known as the best pie-maker in town.” Talk about how knowledge and understanding of people help you see them more clearly.
• Invite to your house people who have something to share—a musical talent, a recent trip, or an interesting experience. Talk about how much we can learn from listening to and understanding others.
• Commit to be a more understanding family by listening better and being more observant. Teach your children to listen—not just with their ears, but also with their eyes, mind, and heart.
• Play “mood charades.” Ask children to demonstrate a mood such as anger, sadness, happiness, or disappointment, and let the rest of the family guess what they’re feeling. Point out that you can learn a lot about others by simply watching their faces and body movements.