What we can articulate...

I am continuing to listen to the excellent podcasts by Bishop Erik Varden that I have mentioned previously, on the Desert Fathers (and Mothers, in case you were wondering). And once more, it was a piece of his wisdom that was almost an aside that caught my attention the other day. 

He was talking about the importance of precision in language, and how words that the Fathers had used with a very particular meaning, such as compunction, have been watered down and sanitised, so that modern dictionary definitions are both anodyne and misleading if one wants to know what the Fathers were talking about. And this matters, he explained, because 'what we can articulate, we can learn to deal with. 

It seems to me that there is a lot of wisdom in that comment. And it is not new wisdom of course (the Fathers were in the early centuries of the Church); and it is evident in folk and popular culture: the idea of a nameless dread is particularly potent; as is the Thingy in the moat (in the Ahlberg's wonderful 'It was a dark and stormy night'); and this is precisely why Dumbledore encourages Harry to use Voldemort's name, rather than the euphemism (He who must not be named) that only increases his power.

It also helps me to articulate part of what I help my clients to do, that they find valuable. For example, in my Shifting Stories work, I get them to articulate and name the unhelpful stories that are holding them back. and also the more helpful stories that are available to them. This articulation and naming gives them more agency and helps them to choose the more helpful over the unhelpful in times of need.  

Likewise, the Thinking Environment work is precisely about giving people the time and attention to articulate their thinking in much more depth and breadth than they are normally allowed to do before they are interrupted (by someone else, life, or themselves...); and again, they find that very valuable.

It is not a panacea. Bishop Varden does not say, What we can articulate, we can deal with, but rather, we can learn to deal with. Which also explains something about the value of Gestalt approaches, which again focus on increasing the individual's awareness - including somatic and emotional awareness - of current reality as a necessary, and often sufficient, approach to change and growth. Heightened awareness enables us to articulate, whether through reason or metaphor, image or intuition, what really is; and then - I hope - we can learn to deal with it.

Why are rounds so effective at creating psychological safety?

On my recent Thinking Environment Facilitation Skills programme, I was thinking, with the participants, about the reasons that we normally start any group meeting in Thinking Environment with a series of rounds.

One reason is simply that a round is a quick and efficient way of getting everyone to introduce themselves early on, and indeed to speak early on (there's some truth in the idea that you haven't really arrived at a meeting until you have spoken - or possibly  until you have been listened to).

Secondly, rounds are very illustrative of some foundational Thinking Environment components. We always introduce them by inviting people to pay attention to whoever is speaking, and to refrain from interrupting (both the person speaking, and the round itself: nobody speaks a second time until everyone has spoken once). As well as Attention, rounds emphasise Equality in the very practical sense of giving everyone an equal opportunity to contribute. We also encourage people not to tail-gate, to start to introduce that sense of Ease - freedom from urgency - that is another component.

Further, if you get your initial question right, people often share something that is personal to themself; and that starts to enable human connection to be made between people, and the possibility of some Appreciation.

But then I found myself thinking further - that's the risk of all this Thinking Environment stuff. Experience suggests that having several rounds, inviting ever more disclosure (and Attention, Ease and Equality) quickly establishes a high level of psychological safety. And my new hypothesis is that it may be something to do with the Gestalt Cycle of Contact (about which I have blogged previously here).

The obvious similarity between a round and a cycle was what got me started, and my theory is now that there is something psychologically satisfying about a completed Gestalt cycle. So a series of rounds offers particpants that psychological satisfaction repeatedly and reliably, contributing to that sense of safety. Further, the facilitator who facilitates that demonstrates that he or she is competent: saying what we'll do, doing it, and that resulting in a satisfying outcome; and doing that repeatedly.

As I say, this is a new hypothesis I am thinking about, so I'll be interested in others' thoughts.

The Importance of Closure

Closure has been on my mind a lot recently, for various reasons. One is that I have just finished the final Futures programme with Colin Riordan, who conceived the programme back in 2006, and with whom I have run it every year (bar Covid) since - in three different universities. As Colin retires from his role as VC at Cardiff this year, we will not be running it again.

Closure has also arisen in the context of supervision: one of the coaches I supervise works in an environment which means that people she coaches may be re-located at short notice; so sometimes the coaching is left hanging, with no possibility of closure.

And I was in an interesting conversation about coaching the other day with other coaches, discussing the merits of a fixed number of sessions versus open-ended coaching. I suggested that an agreed end-point was often useful, even if at that point it was agreed to carry on - precisely because I think that closure is important. 

So what do I mean by closure, and why is it important?

There are many ways of coming at this, and I will pick two of my favourite. One is to consider the Gestalt Cycle of Awareness (about which I have blogged previously, here in relation to Kline's Thinking Environment, and here as  a structure for coaching).

I think that the expression 'unfinished business' derives from this understanding: that if the cycle of awareness is not completed satisfactorily, (that is if resolution and closure are not accomplished, followed by withdrawal of attention from the issue under consideration) then it remains a drain on emotional energy. Too much unfinished business, and we risk being seriously depleted. 

So, considering the issues that made closure salient for me, I would observe that the Futures work was satisfactorily closed: indeed we had a celebratory event, and reflections and learnings were shared. But the coaching client who is re-located at short notice will lack closure, as will the coach. I can't do much about the client, but part of the job of supervision is to help coaches to reach closure in precisely such circumstances.  And the risk of the open-ended coaching approach is precisely that there is no closure: it just runs on, with accompanying risks of loss of purpose and possible client dependency.

Which raises the question again: what is closure and why is it important? Another way of thinking about this is to consider our need to make meaning out of our experience (my excellent book Shifting Stories is crucial reading here, of course!). A story has a beginning, a middle and an end; and it is at the end that we are best able to discern what meaning we can make. So a key aspect of closure, in my understanding, is to reflect, so as to derive the meaning from our experience. In an urgency-addicted culture, that may be difficult, leading again to lots of unfinished business and depleted people.

In coaching, for example, both coach and client benefit from reflecting on the work done together, the learning that has arisen, how that has translated into behavioural change, how it has been and will be sustained, and so on. That is why I think it is good to create end-points in long-term coaching relationships, where these are the focus of the conversation; even if then it is agreed that there is more work to be done together; in which case, re-contracting is appropriate. That minimises the risk of both drifting into general chat or developing a dependency between the coach and the client. 

In a sense, closure is artificial: at the end of a coaching relationship, the client (rightly) withdraws: and therefore may well never know what happens next for the client. Occasionally I meet someone whom I coached years ago, and they tell me about the enduring impact of the work; but that is the exception rather than the rule; normally I simply don't know.  But the very fact of its artificiality means that it can be constructed in unlikely circumstances: such as when a client is re-located without any chance of a final session. The point is for the coach to be supported, first in constructing what meaning she or he can from the situation and secondly in finding peace. So there is an emotional, as well as a rational, component to closure.  

And maybe that's as good a definition as any of effective closure: finding peace; so that the issue, relationship, conflict or whatever, can be laid to rest.

The ultimate closure, of course, is death. Which is why an unprepared death, though it may seem a mercy in some ways, is often very traumatising. Given that understanding, it is important to talk about death, and break our current taboo. But on that topic, I point you to a wisdom much better informed than mine, in Kathryn Mannix's book With the End in Mind (about which I have previously written on the Shifting Stories blog).

Which leaves me with one final problem: how do I close a blog post about closure? Perhaps with these questions:

What meaning are you making about Closure and its importance in your work and your life as you read this post?

And given that, how will you find a place of peace with the topic?

A(nother) Blinding Flash of the Obvious...

I was running a workshop on Diversity and Inclusion, yesterday, using the Thinking Environment Diversity Process (about which I shall probably write more, sooner or later).

Reflecting on that this morning, I was struck by a link between the Thinking Environment and Gestalt which seems so obvious now that I have seen it, that I can scarcely believe I had not noticed it before. But I certainly haven't articulated it like this, and I don't think that anyone else has, that I have seen. Given that I have blogged (and therefore, presumably, thought) before about Gestalt and the Thinking Environment, this is particularly interesting - and indeed entertaining - to me.

One of the findings that informs the way we work in a  Thinking Environment, is that thinking comes in waves. Very often, if someone thinks they have reached the end of their thinking, if we wait, rather than jump in, another wave of thinking arises in them. Or maybe it doesn't, and then we invite one by asking What more do you think, or feel or want to say?  And more often than not, another wave of thinking arises then. And of course listening without interrupting is foundational in this approach.

Moreover, we recognise the importance of feelings, and allowing the expression of feelings: a wave of emotion may arise, and we are very careful not to interrupt that, any more than we interrupt a wave of thinking. And once the wave of feeling has been engaged with, uninterruptedly (eg the person cries, or shouts or whatever he or she needs to to), that wave subsides, and a new wave of thinking may well follow.

This, of course (I mean, d'oh!) is completely congruent with the Gestalt idea of the Cycle of Contact; and with the importance of attending to (and where possible minimising) interruptions to contact, which is a key element of Gestalt.

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With thanks to Brandon Morgan for sharing this photo on Unsplash

'I'm doing the best that I can...' or am I?

As I continue to explore my interest in Gestalt approaches to coaching (see previous posts, passim) I am reading Peter Bluckert's book on the subject. I had high expectations, as the last book of his that I read was very good (see my reflections here).

And I am not disappointed. Bluckert writes clearly and concisely, with authority and wisdom. But I was brought up short by this sentence: People are always doing the best they can from how they see, experience and make sense of the world, and taking into consideration their personal histories. Bluckert describes this as a 'Core proposition' of Gestalt.

The trouble is, I don't subscribe to it. Without even going to the extreme examples of the various evil dictators and despots who caused such carnage in the twentieth century, or of the self-interested and power-hungry politicos of our own time, I don't subscribe to it. Because I look into my own heart, and as St Paul observed 2,000 years ago "the good that I would - I do not: but the evil which I would not - that I do."  Or, as Solzhenitsyn, another wise observer of humanity put it: "The line separating good and evil passes ... right through every human heart."

Indeed, the proposition, as Bluckert states it, removes any moral agency from us.  If whatever I do is the best that I can, then I am an automoton, not a human agent.

I do understand where he is coming from, and why that assumption is a useful starting point for any productive coaching with people who wish to change. It's the word 'always' that made me stop and revolt.  Perhaps I am too literal; or perhaps it is because I really do believe in absolutes that I take absolute claims very seriously and investigate them carefully.

So I would treat this core proposition as a useful fiction as discussed on my Shifting Stories blog: it may not always be true, but it is a good assumption to start with, at least.  And that much is fairly self-evident.

My late granny, who was a vibrant character, took the other starting point. She seemed to assume that anyone who disagreed with her was either mad or bad or (most probably) both. It made for an interesting life, of course, but was not, perhaps, the most peaceful or the most productive way to relate to others. And we see the same in the polarising conversations that characterise the so-called culture wars: the assumption that anyone who is not whole-heartedly one of us is both malicious and deluded. And that doesn't play out too well, either. 

But as those who have worked with me may remember, I am often on the look out for false binaries. So whilst rejecting my granny's outlook, I think I can find a more nuanced place that Bluckert's counter-proposition.

Which leaves me with an interesting question. Is it legitimate for me to use an approach, such as Gestalt, when I dispute one of its core propositions? And that legitimacy question is perhaps two questions: is it intellectually legitimate, and is it morally legitimate?

I think so, on both counts. Intellectually, I have two lines of defence. One is that using any approach does not necessarily mean that one subscribes to every claim that it makes; and if anyone is interested, I am happy to explain my useful fiction concept. 

But also, I have a theory that with Gestalt, as with many other approaches, the useful practices were discovered experientially as much as anything, and the philosophy and intellectual framework was built either concurrently or subsequently. Further, I think that some of that theorising is often mistaken. For example, Carl Rogers was clearly an incredibly gifted and skilled practitioner; but it is noteworthy that those whom he trained in what he thought he did that worked were rarely anything like as accomplished. So I suspect his theory of what he thought he did that worked was, at best, partial.

The moral question is in part answered by my intellectual answer; but there is a further dimension: do I risk doing (or implicitly teaching) anything harmful by working with an approach whose philosophy I don't subscribe to? And here I think that my more nuanced approach is less likely to be harmful than the approach Bluckert advocates. If one is coaching someone whose boss is, for example, very political, somewhat narcissistic, and manipulative, how well does one serve the individual by encouraging her to base her plans and approach on the belief that he will always do the best that he can...?  And as far as implicitly teaching an absolute that is not universally true is concerned, again, I think being explicit in my assumption that it is a useful fiction is a morally sound stance. 

Having said all of which, I still highly recommend Bluckert's book, as very readable, practical and thought-provoking. But as with any book, don't swallow the ideas whole...

The Gestalt Cycle as a structure for coaching.

I have been continuing to read and think about Gestalt, and in Nevis' Organisational Consulting, A Gestalt Approach I found him suggesting The Gestalt Cycle as a map of the consultancy process. Which prompted me to think of it as a possible structure for a coaching session.  

So here are my first thoughts:

Sensation: one might start by inviting clients to attend to their physical sensations in the here and now, as a way of arriving fully at the session; such an invitation also does something to establish the coach’s presence.

Awareness: one might then invite them to consider what comes to mind as the issue(s) to explore at the session.  It may be that many figures emerge from the ground; the coach will then encourage the client to increase awareness and contact with these figures to see which become salient. This can take time as the client processes the possibilities, and also as the client gains the confidence to talk about the serious stuff  Again, the coach’s presence may be key here.

Mobilisation: when the client decides what the most salient figure is, there is likely to be an increase of energy in both client and coach. It may be helpful to comment on this (self as mirror), to help the client to channel energy towards the salient figure. 

Action: at this stage, the coach and the client work together to address the issue, which may take many forms.  In Gestalt, the aim is always to help the client to increase awareness and maintain contact, in the here and now, with both the issue and the coach. This may involve heightening the client’s awareness of ways in which contact is being blocked (by retroflection, introjection etc).

Contact: this is the moment at which learning occurs: the moment when what is desired and what is possible are brought together. Bothe Perls and Nevis suggest that there is the need for an ‘aggressive’ contact with the figure of interest: it needs to be chewed before digestion, as it were, rather than simply swallowed whole. Thus the coach might want to ensure that a client doesn’t  reach to quick or simplistic a sense of resolution, but has really engaged with the figure with sustained attention.

Resolution and Closure: the learning from the moment of Contact is interpreted; and the figure is no longer salient: it has, in some way, been resolved. Again, the presence of the coach, including an acknowledgement of what has occurred and reflections on what has been observed and experienced by the coach may be valuable here. 

Withdrawal: attention is then withdrawn from the figure, the learning is assimilated into the ground, where it is available for future use.

 I should stress that this is purely theoretical at this stage.  I have not (or not consciously) sought to structure a session in this way; but as I wrote it out, it seemed strangely familiar...

More Thoughts on Gestalt and the Thinking Environment

 I blogged recently on Gestalt and the Thinking Environment. That post attracted quite a lot of interest and comments on Linked In, and I have been thinking further about the subject.

One of my lines of thought is that the concepts of contact in Gestalt, and Attention, in the Thinking Environment, are clearly closely related. 

In Gestalt, the practitioner both encourages individuals to stay in contact with themselves, and with the figure which they are addressing; and also strives to establish and maintain contact between the practitioner and the individual.

In the Thinking Environment, it is axiomatic that the practitioner gives complete and unqualified attention to the thinker.

Which led me to reflect that the classic blocks to contact, in Gestalt, may also be at least some of the things that a Thinking Partner needs to avoid, in order to sustain that extraordinary quality of attention that is the core of this approach.

Those blocks are:

Desensitisation: blocks sensation - often a result of trauma.

Deflection:  eg rather than acknowledging one's true sensation, one makes a little joke…

Introjection: all the shoulds and shouldn'ts one has swallowed over the years.

Projection:  where one guesses what others might be thinking or feeling based on one's own thoughts or feelings.

Retroflection: where one avoids taking action for fear of (eg) failure  - and suffers worse consequences.

Confluence: acting on someone else's needs or desires rather than one's own. 

Egotism: (self-explanatory).

William Coulson

And even as I type them out, I am aware (in a very Gestalty way) of a sensation of unease around Introjection. I think that we have to be very careful here. According to William Coulson, who was Carl Rogers' right-hand man for many years, one of the problems Carl had when training others in his work, was that many of them bathed in the heady warmth of unconditional positive regard so luxuriously, and treated all moral injunctions as introjections, with the result that many ended up having casual sexual relationships with multiple clients.

In conversation with a colleague recently, I noticed an aversion in her to any sense of 'rules' about this work. Yet when I mentioned the need for 'boundaries' she was in whole-hearted agreement.

And of course, most professional coaches consider themselves bound by the global code of ethics drawn up by the EMCC  and AC (or a similar professional code). 

So whether you consider them boundaries, ethics, or rules, don't be misled by the idea of Introjection to consider yourself free of them.  Introjection really applies to the kinds of rules that we may have learned as children and be bound by out of our conscious awareness. In Gestalt terms, the key issue is to become aware of them, and then to evaluate them and their applicability (or not) to the issue at hand - not simply to discard them!

Gestalt and the Thinking Environment

 I have long been interested in Gestalt, especially as it applies to learning and development, and coaching. This interest was initiated by two of the colleagues whose work I have most admired, and with whom I have particularly enjoyed working. Both work with Gestalt a lot, though in very different ways.

More recently, I have re-engaged with the theoretical base of Gestalt, as i was running a development day on the use of Gestalt in coaching supervision for my friends and colleagues in the Coaching Supervision Partnership.

One of the key concepts in Gestalt is the Gestalt Cycle of Contact. This suggests a cycle of Sensation: Awareness: Mobilisation: Action: Contact: Resolution and Closure: Withdrawal; in which we are all engaged all the time that we are conscious. Different practitioners use slightly different labels for the different stages of the cycle.  The idea is that when something becomes salient for us (emerges as a 'figure' from the 'ground' of all the things we could attend to), we engage in this cycle, and if we reach resolution, closure and withdrawal, that is a healthy, completed cycle. The figure then returns to the ground, and something else may emerge as salient, as a new figure. However, if the cycle is not completed, we are left with that unsatisfied sensation of unfinished business.

Some of the blocks, which impede 'contact' and completion of the cycle, are:

• Desensitisation: (blocks sensation - often a result of trauma)
• Deflection: eg rather than acknowledging your true sensation, you make a little joke...
• Introjection: all the shoulds and shouldn'ts we have swallowed over the years.
• Projection: where we guess what others might be thinking or feeling based on our own thoughts or feelings
• Retroflection: where we avoid taking action for fear of (eg) failure and suffer worse consequences.
• Confluence: acting on someone else's needs or desires rather than one's own
• Egotism.

Another interesting observation is the paradoxical theory of change: Change occurs in the process of becoming more fully what is rather than in trying to become other. This is an aspect of awareness - full attention and contact with how things are has the result that change naturally arises.  Along with this is the paradox of resistance: if we support resistance, we encounter less of it.

Also, the presence of the practitioner (therapist, coach, supervisor) is an essential aspect of this work; and the practitioner's awareness of, and naming of, what is going on for him or herself is very valuable: 'self as tool.'   Likewise, there is an emphasis on working with the here and now: if a coach wants to think about a particular coaching incident, for instance, a Gestalt perspective is to focus on what the coach is feeling about that incident right now, rather than at the time it took place.  Exploring that is often very rich and provocative of insight. Gestalt questions are generally about the present, not the past or the future.

And because I continue to be a keen advocate, and practitioner, of Nancy Kline's Thinking Environment, I have been thinking about the points of commonality, and the differences, with Gestalt.

Some of the commonalities are the focus on the present moment, including a recognition of the importance of sensations and feelings; the importance of the presence of the practitioner, and an assumption that change will arise from increased understanding or awareness. Both approaches are marked by a very high level of listening, and giving a very large proportion of the time to the individual to explore his or her thoughts and feelings.

However, there are also marked differences: Gestalt practitioners are likely to have much more content in their interventions (compared to the largely content-free approach that characterises a Thinking Environment).  For example, they may draw attention to anything that they notice that is blocking contact. Likewise, they are likely to give feedback about their own feelings here-and-now as a key part of the process. 

Having said which, I find that in practice the two approaches are very consonant, and it is relatively easy for me - and sometimes seems helpful for my client - to move between the two.

I'll be particularly interested in any comments from other practitioners who are engaged in both approaches: as ever, this post is very much my thinking aloud about something that has become salient for me (a figure that has emerged from the ground), and is my early musings: I am sure there is much more for me to learn here.

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With thanks to LinkedIn Sales Solutions for sharing their photo on Unsplash