If someone slights us by mistake our response is likely to be benevolent and kindly.  On the flip side, if another intends to harm us, we might be justifiably feisty and belligerent.  But here’s the rub, sometimes we assume the worst about others intentions and we’re darn wrong.

Consider the story of Barry and his mother, Hazel. Every Wednesday night Barry cooks dinner for Hazel, his 4 siblings and their lovers. He maintains this ritual for 624 dinners. But then something magical happens; the local macrame class has an opening for Wednesday nights and Barry would dearly like to go. He runs the idea past his clan and they all shout hooray, except Hazel. She decides, ‘family is obviously not important to Barry’. And she petulantly shares her assumptions with anyone that will hear her.  Not only that, Hazel gives Barry the cold shoulder and declines his invitation to attend his macrame concert at the end of the term.  That’s a bummer because she misses the chance to see the macrame portrait Barry fashioned after her.

I’m not proposing that we should stop making assumptions about others intentions - that’s too reachy. Rather, spot them for what they are - hunches and theories. Hazel could honour her relationship by running her hunch past Barry. It might go something like this, “Son, I’m wondering if we are still important to you?” And Barry could explain that he loves her and whip out the macramé portrait for proof.

With respect and love,

Tiffani

In the 1960s a therapist, Jay Haley developed a fresh strategy for resolving stuck points.  He called his newfangled approach Strategic Therapy. I might send you to sleep if I try to outline all the subtleties of the method in my unsophisticated little blog, but there are some features of the therapy that could build a fire under you, especially if you’re wading through emotional treacle.

Firstly, Haley figured out that struggles are generated and sustained by:

• The way we perceive the difficulty
• The repeated patterns encircling the problem

What does all of this mean for you and I?

Let’s imagine that your goldfish, Benny choked on a piece of pizza that a visiting three-year-old tossed in to his aquarium nine years ago. You’re still not up for walking past the aquarium or eating pizza. And you despise the three year old so much that you get chest pain when you hold an image of him in your mind. You are so utterly debilitated that all you do is sit on the couch and watch Finding Nemo while you clutch a tiny Tupperware container of Benny’s ashes. At night, as you drift off to sleep, you listen to Eva Cassidy sing, Over The Rainbow and you are planning to get a Benny tattoo.

Can you notice a recurring sequence of unsupportive rituals that contribute to your stuck point?  A strategic therapist might ask, “What new ritual would interrupt this cycle?” And maybe you’d decide to watch Paul Blart Mall Cop, and listen to, What a Feeling by Irene Cara.

A re-frame of your beliefs about Benny’s death can be a God-send too.  For instance, if your way of thinking switched from “I’m nothing without Benny” to “I was lucky to meet him and I’m grateful for this precious opportunity” you might feel a tad finer.

With this in mind:

• Think about a predicament.
• What are the recurring behaviours or ideas that maintain the problem?
• Ponder a virtuous interruption.
• Get to it.

With respect and love,

Tiffani

Resolving big juicy problems can be rocky and puzzling, especially when it involves more than one person.  Conflicting needs are dicey and it’s easy to nosedive to a dark place faster than green grass goes through a goose.

In a previous post we acknowledged the downside of blame and confirmed that listening to each other is a weighty priority when trouble is brewing. Listening helps us figure out what each person wants and is a vital first step to all problem solving.

For instance, the other day I worked with two dear siblings, Hans 9 and Fin 12. When I asked, “How can I help you?” Fin declared, “We want to improve our communication and play nicely, especially when we’re on the Playstation.” Hans nodded zealously and for the next few minutes they shared the ups and downs of siblinghood. Brotherhood can be painful, kind of like stapling your tongue to a wall.

We talked about the six steps to solving problems:

1. Identify the needs of everyone involved.
2. Conjure up plenty of ideas for taking care of the whole gang.
3. Size up the options with enthusiasm and an eye for detail.
4. Opt for the idea that delights everyone.
5. Set the wheels in motion.
6. Touch base to see if it’s working.

I enquired, “Have you reflected on possible ways to turn Playstation time from terrible to terrific?” And the brainstorming process began:

• “We could play on the same team and battle the computer instead of each other.”
• “We could save up for the game that we rented from the library. It was really fun and didn’t turn us in to maniacs.”
• “Maybe Fin could wear an eyepatch or tie his hands together so I can catch up?”

And so on. (I’m sure you’re beginning to understand why I love my work).

Anyway, I’ll get back to the point.  Fin and Hans identified what they wanted (step one). Soon after, they came up with a gaggle of ways to meet their needs (step two). Their next task was to eyeball the ideas and search for fairness (step three and four). And the tough work starts with application (step five). 

While Fin and Hans are bringing an end to World War 3, you and I can use these steps to get to the bottom of our quandaries too. It takes practise but the grind is worthwhile. I promise. 

With respect and love,

Tiffani

Here’s a follow-up from my blog about the trouble with blame.  I’m dedicating it to my friend Alfie, who had the courage and good sense to ask, “What do we do instead?” 

Alfie, there are six steps to solving any puzzle:

1. Identify the needs of everyone involved.
2. Conjure up plenty of ideas for taking care of the whole gang.
3. Size up the options with enthusiasm and an eye for detail.
4. Opt for the idea that delights everyone.
5. Set the wheels in motion.
6. Touch base to see if it’s working.

In my opinion, the first step is the most agonising, delicate and risky because we are required to listen to each other. It sounds doable, doesn’t it? But let’s look at a case in point:

Hank arrives home from work 45 minutes late.  He’s had a tough day at the office: Blanche from accounts is really on his case, the traffic was appalling and he’s tired from staying up to watch Hoarders. Hank’s wife, Beverly is relying on him to be home so she can get to her pole dancing class in a timely fashion. She’s mighty huffy about Hank’s tardiness.

In an ideal world, when Hank walks in, Beverly says, “I’m so happy to see you, honey.  I was worried when you were late.” But it’s not an ideal world, is it? So she runs with, “You’re an unreliable, inconsiderate pig, Hank.  Do you think this arse is going to get muscly all by itself?” 

And right in this moment tired, feeble Hank is required to say, “I left you in the lurch, Beverly.” But he actually wants to tell Beverly that she can stick her pole somewhere dim. He wants to stomp off to the good room with a packet of chips and an ice cold beer and flip her the bird.

Now do you see what I mean, Alfie? It’s pretty darn hard to do step one, unless we live with The Waltons.

Avoiding blame requires us to listen to each other, even when we are harangued and cranky.  If Hank can bear Bev’s tetchiness he will discover her needs and the whole world will open up and he’ll feel like they are frolicking in a field of flowers. But without listening, it will feel like they are at Waterloo.

“Beverly, I left you in the lurch and you’d really like me to be reliable and keep my word. You and your bottom were depending on me.”

Once Bev is understood there is scope for Hank to share:

“Lousy Blanche is really jerking me around. I want you to be able to crack walnuts with your arse too, Beverly, I really do.  I just feel so much pressure to get everything done and be here on time.”  

Beverly wants to get to pole dancing and fashion herself a muscly rump. Hank wants to eliminate the pressure to be home early, especially while Blanche is hounding him.

Now that they understand each other they can start conjuring ideas for working things out.  They might even feel all lovey-dovey and decide to do a horizontal workout in the good room. 

With respect and love, especially to you, Alfie.

Years ago, during a gritty argument with my husband I paused uncharacteristically. He suspected something fishy and asked, “Why have you stopped speaking?” I replied, “I’m trying to think of a way to make this all your fault. I’m struggling to come up with a decent excuse for finger pointing but if I take a couple of minutes I might be able to think of something crafty…” I was frantically searching for a juicy reason to completely blame him. It was an enticing strategy, albeit an unfair one.  

When we blame others, we might momentarily dump the albatross of responsibility but we pay a mighty price. Pin-pointing a culprit:

• annihilates the creativity we can employ to resolve our problems. 
• prevents us reflecting on our contribution to the ill-favoured event.
• strikes a blow upon another’s self worth and integrity.

Blame hurls us off a slippery slope to misery. So let’s do our best stop it.

With respect and love,

Tiffani