Compassionate Communication in Action

Apparently people were quite disturbed by my zero-dark-thirty late night darkness. We as humans are fascinated by such but frightened as well. I was told that people wanted "the old Diane" back. Ironic. I feel unseen and misjudged, but at the same time vulnerable and strong...all the contradictions and deeply human.

I've written at length about adrenaline patterns and how they work in my brain, and the old Diane is that in spades...I've had this issue my whole adult life, but only now at sixty-six do I feel I have a handle on it. I can go to the dark places and come back, and they don't scare me. What scares me is how little control humans in general have for the brain patterns that drive them, and how much acceptance in people there is for things that can work better but won't without a lot of effort and personal growth.

I'm humbled by mine. If my strong leadership scares you when it comes out, that's because I keep it hidden for a good reason: I'm marshmallow vulnerable inside that strength. One disparaging word, in this case "insinuated" is enough to set off my cascade of hormonal responses. It's terrifying to be that soft. Most of you know exactly what I mean about that underbelly which we all try to keep protected with all our might.

My process is so old for me that I always feel that I have conquered it until it comes up again and I know that I have merely avoided it...and studied the hell out of it to try to learn to not be besieged by emotions that ought to feel normal and easy to handle. I've worked on it diligently for a few decades now and it is way closer to being something I can control rather than fear and avoid. So when I get angry or disillusioned or disappointed, I don't have a problem putting that here, which I consider to be my sacred space where I can say whatever I want and damn the torpedos.

Thank Marko for the Empathy Tent. He is my hero for bringing the work of Marshall Rosenberg and many others to use for the benefit of all of us. I don't know quite how they can work that magic without taking any of it on, but Marko is exceptionally skilled. Yesterday I read a disturbing email right before I started loading up for Market at 6:30 am, after not sleeping well, and my brain took off on its well-worn pathways of fight, flight or freeze. Since I had work to do, I couldn't freeze or escape, so I had to fight, that internal fight to get righted and continue my plans for the day despite feeling that my throat was cut. Yes, that's the dramatic response my brain came up with for being what I felt to be unjustly accused of things I had not done, in defense of people's hurt feelings or confusion or assumptions or whatever drove the criticism. It's not my job to censor others or try to figure out their motivations or even interpret them, it's my job to take them in, process them, and extract what is useful and discard the rest. So although it took all day, I was able to hear the feedback that I was stronger than some people expected me to be, that they were fearful, and that perhaps I could be more collaborative or gentle in my approach to leadership. Helpful feedback, and not meant to derail but perhaps to refine or slow down what I feel is urgent. Points taken; next?

I know what to do about the adrenaline pattern but the steps are tough to enact while working the beginning of a 12-hour day in public in a very vulnerable space. I knew not to respond to the email, or even discuss it until my brain had gotten to the calmer, more rational space. I knew to separate feelings from facts, and I knew to not escalate the cascade by involving yet more people than were already involved. I knew that right or wrong I had to avoid some things: people who would take it and run faster, more caffeine, anything that would make me more vulnerable like alcohol or too much sugar, and so on. The worst thing to do was to add more emotions to the mix, but of course there I was in my community in public with everything out there on display.

So I asked people in my circle to remind me what to tell my brain: things like "I am not in danger. This is not happening now. This is not life or death, and I am a speck on a spot in a tiny corner of the universe and this is not a big thing. I can handle this and have before and soon it will be over and I'll feel better. I am strong and capable. I can get the help I need." I physically shook it off. I controlled myself and tried not even to make jokes about it, which of course I couldn't quite manage but I did pretty well. When one person came to me to talk about it I indulged in a few of my thoughts but made the strong point that now was not the time to respond and he respected that. I didn't get my noon coffee. I drank water and forced myself to eat protein. I tried to reframe, reframe, reframe.

None of what is happening in the bigger world of my community is about someone's feelings, not mine or anyone else's. I feel I have to remind people that your feelings are not facts, and you have to own them and be in charge of them. If you are hurt you are accepting the hurt and it's your job to work deeper and get over it. It is not my job as a leader to protect your feelings.

Of course being a compassionate leader it is within my list of concerns to try not to hurt you. Of course I do try to do that. I hold myself to very high standards as a leader, and honesty is probably my highest ideal. I'll tell you what felt hurtful to me, but I will also work through it to the real meat: was it true? was it helpful in advancing the work we're doing, or was it counter-productive? What must we do to go forward past it?

Thank Marko for the Empathy Tent! I cannot stress enough what having safe space means to me. I took my hankie over there and made myself cry, hard. I did this to dispel the aftermath of adrenaline which is crippling. The sadness, discouragement and depression that can follow is what self-defeat is all about. Not only did I not want to go to Market that morning, I wanted to quit all of my jobs, paid and unpaid, in the service of my Market community. Over the strength of one word and a few sentences of an opinion I disagreed with. That, my friends, is a terrifying level of vulnerability.

And it is my contention that most of us who are sensitive humans are just that soft. One thought expressed in assumption, confusion, or anger can completely derail any number of our fellow humans who are generally just trying to do what we think is best. Of course sometimes we are wrong!

In this particular case, not only did I feel unjustly accused of casting blame, I actually blame myself far more than anyone else. I did not pay enough attention and did not ask enough questions or provide enough leadership when it would have been far more effective. I was lazy and irresponsible. I was selfish and concentrated on my own pursuits rather than being on the forefront watching out for this thing I knew was coming. I didn't question assumptions that rang false. I let down my guard and enjoyed time sitting on my deck when there was important work to do. And I am working to forgive myself for that; I do forgive myself for that. I can't and don't have to do it all. Lots of people are working and available to work to keep things on track and it isn't all about me. At all. That's one of the things I tell myself: this isn't about me.

Our brains are giant and mysterious things and our unconscious and subconscious acts are often unremarkable and sometimes life-changing. My emotional cascade is no one else's problem and I hope no one felt responsible for being instrumental in it or in getting me out of it. I own it. I'm articulating it because that is one of the things I do best.

I"m in this leadership position at this moment because I was asked to be and called to me. I have what is needed to hold it and create space for our community to express itself through me. This is not an irrational taking on of something imaginary and is not a delusion of grandeur or part of my brain dysfunction pathway. This is a brave and honest and full-of-heart thing to do and I know this because at least fifty of my oldest companions in this journey have told me so. I am speaking for them.

So I feel the strength of thousands behind me to make things happen. I'm not giving opinions based on assumptions and I'm not irrational and I'm not carrying a pitchfork in some quixotic windmill tilting. I will not be sidetracked or diminished by the fear of people who don't like the strong leader Diane because they haven't seen her before. You should have seen me on the streets of Washington DC in the 70s. You should have seen me as a single mom fighting to create a safe and abundant home for my son. There is a fierceness in me that I really should not hide. I should bring her out more, but your fears scare me.

Get a grip, friends. Fear is not where we are dwelling and not where we want to be. Fear is what makes us vulnerable and what makes us give up when we don't have to. We are all quivering masses of conflicting emotions and history and misjudgements and we have to be better than that.

So as I cried in the Empathy Tent and shed my confusion and focused, I could dispel the power of that one word and those diminishing misjudgements and regain my confidence and most of my strength. I was able to go to the person who said them and give my assessments of her action, and we got past it. She listened to me, I listened to her, and we hugged as tightly as two drowning sisters in the floodwaters of the drama of life.

We re-grounded and let go and joined again to work together. We can disagree. We can urge caution and we can urge action and we can be strident or hesitant or loud or humorous or ironic or self-indulgent or right or even wrong. What we cannot do is tear each other down and stand in each other's way for fear. Fear is not where we want to dwell. So don't tell me I'm "just" afraid. I know what that feels like.

I am always working for all of us. I am always trying to do my best to hear us all and articulate for us all. This is not just an affirmation but it is an ideal and a goal. I hope and do trust that all Saturday Market volunteers are in that sacred space. I heard from many people yesterday and they all were in agreement with the positions I have articulated. I didn't hear from anyone who disagreed. However, I know you are out there, and maybe you are intimidated by my strong voice. If that is the case, I challenge you to speak up now. Email me at dmcwho@efn.org to tell me, after informing yourself with all of the information I have provided, your thoughts on how Saturday Market should be proceeding through these developments presented by the city and county governments and those they pay to articulate them. If you want the information I will give you everything I have. It's not my opinion. I've been asked to express that, and I have declined, repeatedly, to do so. My responsibility is to the membership, to articulate what our membership wants.

Saturday Market is an autonomous, independent, membership nonprofit with a clear mission and identity that we have built together for almost fifty years. I am carrying that with the utmost care and dedication. This is not about me or anyone else. This is about what thousands have built and care deeply for. I'm taking leadership to articulate.

I do welcome direction, and am trying my hardest to be collaborative and useful and rational and direct. You know me. You actually do see me. I don't have to hide. If I quit it would be a loss for me and for many.

This is not self-righteous irrational grandstanding or any kind of mental illness minor or major. This is thoughtful, heartful leadership. It's not perfect. Let's not hold our leaders to absolutes of perfection, and let's not tear our leaders down. We need all the leadership we can gather. And lucky for us, we have human leaders who can be compelling, strong, and effective. I am only one among many. 

So there is the Sunday morning sermon for this week. Thank you to all the sensitive individuals who offered me compassion yesterday, and there were quite a few who were stellar. Thank you to the darkness that shows us how to recognize the light. Thank you for the words that we need. Thank you for the hearts and souls that we bring so openly to our downtown each week and each day. Let's keep moving toward the better world we all want to live in, as we are continuing to create it. Many thanks.