How could I?

During a meeting that I attended a couple of days ago, I had a temper tantrum. I shouted and swore at the facilitator.

As soon as I'd done it, I felt ashamed of my behaviour and apologized.

Luckily it didn't phase the facilitator. As a matter of fact, she gave me a ride home after the meeting, and was perfectly friendly.

But that isn't the point. What's more relevant is that I am deeply committed to compassionate communication, and I violated my own principles.

Only a week previously, I'd participated in a two-day conflict resolution workshop. I did a consensus decision making workshop in September, and I'm registered for another one in April. One of my favourite books is Nonviolent Communication by Marshall Rosenberg.

Yet, when it felt to me as if one of my core buttons was being pushed, the blood rushed to my head, and I lashed out.

When I later recalled what I'd said, I was grateful for a couple of things. First of all, I had used I statements. Secondly, I had criticized the facilitator's behaviour (or at least my perception of her behaviour). I had not called her names or questioned her integrity as a person.

Of course that doesn't excuse my behaviour. I consider it to have been totally unacceptable.

I have been going over the incident in an effort to recognize the dynamics, learn from it, and be better prepared when a similar situation arises in future.

I have tried to avoid beating up on myself, as that would only compound the problem. I've tried to accept that I'm imperfect and to forgive myself.

In our Pacific Gardens Cohousing Community meetings, which was where this happened, we have a beautiful tool that is designed to address this very scenario. Each meeting participant has three cards.

When a meeting participant holds up a green card, it means, "I agree," or, "I have information to contribute." A yellow card means, "I have a question," or, "I have a concern." A red card means, "I disagree," or, "There is something terribly wrong going on here."

When a participant holds up a red card, the facilitator is obliged to stop the main discussion so that the issue can be addressed. If I had remembered to use it, that one thing -- a little red card -- would have created a very different outcome.

I also forgot to maintain an attitude of curiosity. Instead, I jumped to conclusions about the facilitator's intentions.

In the interim, I have thought of a way of tweaking the meeting process so that it will accomplish what the facilitator wants while at the same time addressing my needs. I will suggest it to her before our next meeting.

Interestingly enough, I once again have found myself playing leap frog with another blogger. Yesterday there was an entry entitled Control on the Sensible Living blog. As soon as I saw it, I thought, "Oh, Annie, you've read my mind."

Unmet Needs

One of the nuggets of wisdom I learned from Marshall Rosenberg's book, Nonviolent Communication, is that a person who is behaving badly has a need that is not being met.

When I say a person is behaving "badly," this could mean mildly negative behaviour, like pouting or rolling their eyes at what you're saying. At the other end of the spectrum, it could mean they're holding a knife to your throat.

But, wherever their behaviour is on that continuum, they have an unmet need.

Since I have become aware of this, I have found that it has taken a lot of discipline for me to remember it when someone has been ranting at me. But, wow, it sure improves the outcome of the conversation!

When I have been able to listen to someone and let them finish venting, they eventually have calmed down, and we have gone on to have a rewarding interaction.

Recently my son asked me about the main insights I'd gained from the consensus decision making workshop I'd participated in and my reading of the book on nonviolent communication. I cited the recognition of unmet needs as one of them.

My son then asked, "Well, what has that enabled you to do? Have you recognized what the other person's unmet need is, and what have you been able to do with that information?"

I responded that I had not always been able to recognize what the other person's unmet need was. Sometimes all I had been able to do was say to myself, "S/he is ranting. Therefore s/he has an unmet need."

I told my son that, if nothing else, this helped me to avoid getting caught up in the other person's drama. At a minimum, I was able to stay calm, and listen. This bought me time. I felt that that alone was valuable.

But, later in a conversation, when my initial feeling of defensiveness has quietened down, I often have been able to detect what the other person's unmet need has been. Then I have been able to acknowledge it and, together, we have been able to discuss how the need could be addressed.

My point, though, is that this insight has been valuable to me even when I have failed to recognize exactly what the unmet need has been. Just reminding myself of the existence of the unmet need in itself has been useful.

With that having been said, I do not want to sound as if I am discounting the amount of commitment and self control that are required to implement this strategy. At times, the effort needed to do this is huge.

Want to throw my toys out my playpen

Sometimes unwelcome things happen in my cohousing community, and I feel angry. This is one of those days.

That doesn't change the fundamentals of my situation. I'm still incredibly grateful to have chosen Nanaimo as my new home, to have joined Pacific Gardens Cohousing Community, and to have formed wonderful friendships in a surprisingly short time.

But, with that having been said, I want this blog to be authentic. Being a coho [member of a cohousing community] may be a predominantly joyful experience, but it is not a constantly joyful experience. At least it is not for me.

This is where I'm finding it useful to be learning skills in the area of compassionate / nonviolent communication.

To my mind, our families and our communities are microcosms of the larger world. My belief is that, if I want the world to be at peace, I have to create peace right where I am, right now.

This was the overriding reason for my joining a cohousing community. Yes, there were a zillion other reasons too. But, if we cohos went around in a circle and each had to name his/her primary motivation for joining, that would be mine.

So I will refrain from throwing a tantrum. I will find a constructive way to share my feelings and to help to make it safe for my fellow cohos to share their feelings. Then, together, we will chart a way forward.