Some Neuro (though not, I hope, neurotic) reflections

The other day I attended a fascinating webinar on the neuropsychology of resilience, put on by the Association for Coaching. Having read quite a lot about neuropsychology and coaching for my ILM 7, I found there was

not a lot that was new to me; but there was a lot I had known and forgotten, so it was a very valuable refresher.  And later, by coincidence (if one believes in coincidence) I saw this flowchart posted by @nathanfiler on Twitter, along with the description: I've been interviewing some of the world's leading experts on the neuroscience and psychology of emotion. I've distilled their main findings into this handy flowchart. You're welcome.  That made me laugh.

And I laughed because of recognition: for myself, this rings true. And also because of the puncturing of the overblown nature of some of the stuff out there that labels itself neuro- this that and the other. (Another twitter feed I enjoy is @Neuro_Skeptic).

And before everyone tells me, of course the flowchart is inadequate - that's part of the joke. But that raises another question: should we joke about such matters? My temptation is to say an unequivocal yes; I am a strong believer in the value of humour, not least with regard to resilience. At the cognitive level, humour offers us a change of perspective (that is almost a definition of how it works) that is often very healthy; at a social level, it can strengthen connections between people; and at a neuropsychological level, it is said to cause a release of endorphins (as explained by David Brent, memorably...). All of these are valuable in the context of resilience. 

But of course, a more nuanced answer is: it depends. If one has reason to believe that the joke will not strengthen connections, but rather irritate, alienate and so on, then it is better left untold. 

But given that the flowchart is inadequate, what else did I learn, or re-learn, on my recent webinar?  One of the things that came home to me most forcibly, and has had me reflecting since, is the instantaneous (or as near as makes no difference) reaction of the amygdala to any stimulus. The evaluation: Threat? Yes/no? and in the event of Yes, the stimulation of the fight/flight/freeze response. 

Yet I have long been a great believer in Frankl's work, and his observation (hard-won in the concentration camps) that 'Everything can be taken from a man but one thing: the last of the human freedoms—to choose one’s attitude in any given set of circumstances, to choose one’s own way.' How does one (how do I) reconcile that with this over-riding of the conscious will by the amygdala, that pumps the system full of aderenaline, and partially shuts down the pre-frontal cortex in order to divert energy for the predicted fight or flight?

My current tentative answer lies in a few other things that we know about resilience and stress. Stress is sometimes defined as our reaction when the perceived challenge is greater than our perceived ability to cope. The issue of perception is key here: and that is something we can work on. By managing that, we can reduce the likelihood of the amygdala hijack, as Goleman calls it. 

Secondly, and related, there is growing evidence for the value of meditation in reducing stress responses. One of the reasons for that may be the calming of the amygdala; we know that when one is in a state of high arousal, a stress response is more likely, so it seems plausible that the reverse may also apply. Also, if one's meditation is not content-free, but rather on some transcendent truth or being (for myself, I am a Christian), then that will also work on the issue of perception.

We also know about the value of exercise in this context; both the physiological benefits, and the psychological ones (that when we exercise we feel better about ourselves and have a greater sense of agency).

And finally, we know the importance of human connection: and again that probably works on many levels. At the level of perception, we may be more likely to fall victim to catastrophising when we are on our own, particularly if we feel isolated; and also, spending time with those we love has positive effects on the mix of neurotransmitters sloshing around in our brain (oxytocin and all that...).

So my work-in-progress solution to the question I raised earlier in this post is that whilst one is not, in the instant, in control of the amygdala's response, there is a lot that one can do over time to reduce the frequency and the impact of it, by attending with some discipline to one's wellbeing with regard to all of the physical, mental, social/emotional, and spiritual/existential aspects.

And, of course, though one may be subject to an amygdala hijack, one need not be victim to it. Noticing what is going on for oneself, and then, as my late, wise mother counselled*, counting to ten, is a very valuable discipline, too.

* I am told she was not the only person to have divined this wisdom.

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Photo by Spikeball on Unsplash

Mental Mobilisation

 My colleagues and I in the Coaching Supervision Partnership had an excellent CPD workshop on Trauma, run by Alan Brice, a counsellor and supervisor with considerable experience, expertise and wisdom in this field.

It was a rich afternoon's learning, and one of the aspects I continue to reflect on is the notion of mental mobilisation. There seems to be growing evidence that the degree to which we are prepared for an experience that may be traumatic has a significant impact on how well we are able to deal with it.

Alan cited the example of ambulance crews, who are called to a category three (top priority) emergency. They know that they are likely to encounter a critical situation, that involves the possibility of dealing with death.  Whilst that is difficult, of course, they are ready for that, and that helps them to cope.  However, when called to a lower category of incident, and then unexpectedly having to deal with a fatality, it is very much harder to cope.

We also talked about some people who have higher base levels of anxiety than others, who are also sometimes particularly good at dealing with crises: we wondered if a degree of mental mobilisation may be in play here, too.

All of which raised the interesting question, is it possible to be mentally mobilised in the face of unknown threats and challenges, which may arise at unpredictable times? And further is that possible without stimulating a continuing sense of hyper-arousal that would be debilitating?

The answer is that we don't really know. I remember reading in HBR or somewhere similar, an article that claimed that executive teams that have done a lot of disaster simulation exercises were better at dealing with actual crises, even of a different nature; but I can't find the article and don't remember how robust the evidence was. It has a surface plausibility, but that's all I can vouch for.

But the question continues to fascinate me, and if I come across more research on the topic, I will return to it.  In the meantime, I think that the most useful preparation one can make for unforeseen challenges and changes (and we know they will come, we just don't know what or when) is the research-based approaches to personal resilience; investing time and care in putting in place the habits that will keep us fit for such challenges.

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With thanks to Joe Kibria and Markus Winkler for sharing their photography on Unsplash

Put your own mask on first...

Anyone who has flown will be familiar with the safety briefing and its instruction about what to do should the cabin lose pressure. We are told that oxygen masks will drop from the panel above our head, and that we should put our own mask on, before helping others to do so.

That, of course, is sound advice. We are better able to help others if we put our own mask on first; and also, we are less likely to need help ourselves (and thus become an additional problem).

I have heard this quoted a number of times in recent weeks, in the context of resilience during these extraordinary times, and have indeed used the metaphor myself.

Both halves of the admonition are important: looking after yourself first is not selfish. If you fail to do so, you may well end up being an additional problem, just at the time when we (your family, your community, your colleagues, the NHS...) really don't need additional problems.

But the second half is equally important: before helping others... That is to say, we should not only look out for our own well-being, but contribute to others' too. Apart from the obvious reasons - the dictates of charity, or altruism, or community solidarity, or whatever frame you want to put around that universally recognised value of beneficence - there is an interesting feedback loop. Helping others is key to our own social and psychological well-being.

And both of these imply a third aspect to attend to: being prepared to ask for and accept help. That is important, both as a part of looking after yourself, and also in order to permit others to help you, which is good for them, too.

All of which is obvious, just like the things we all know about our physical wellbeing (the importance of hydration, a balanced diet, rest, exercise and so on). Yet knowledge is not always enough. Sometimes, and particularly in periods of extended (or acute) stress, we adopt maladaptive strategies.  On the physical level, we may cut down on exercise, and rest, to make time to get more done: and keep going on caffeine, and perhaps console ourselves with alcohol. All of which have a short term benefit (or we wouldn't do them) but with a long term cost attached.

Returning to the theme of looking after yourself, we may do similar: tough it out (because we are tough) for example, or martyr ourselves in the service of others, or simply not notice that we need to ask for, and accept help.

Reflective practices and feedback are valuable here: which is, indeed, why I am writing this blog post.  I realised, when I started to make some simple errors, that I was more out of shape than I had thought. When I reflected on that, it was obvious: we had had a death in the family, 80% of my work had been cancelled, three of my children are looking for jobs at a time when they are hard to come by... and I had given no thought to the fact that I might need additional support at this time.


Fortunately, I am well-supported, both personally and professionally, and the minute I realised this, I was able to draw on that support, take a little time, put a few self-care measures in place, and I am the better for it.

But I thought it might be helpful to share the experience and the reflections it prompted. Hence, as I say, this post...

A Sabbatical

For obvious and thoroughly appropriate, if sad, reasons, all my booked group work for the next few months has been cancelled or postponed. One-to-one coaching , supervision etc that can be conducted remotely (via skype/zoom/phone) is going ahead; and I am investigating the practicality of online facilitated workshops.

Nonetheless, that means that I have a lot of time suddenly free in my diary, and have been giving some thought to the question of how best to use that.

As a base line, there is something about wellbeing for me and my family (my 95 year old mother in law lives with us, so we have been taking social distancing very seriously). Wellbeing or resilience in these difficult times involves putting in place suitable routines to keep us healthy physically, mentally, emotionally, and spiritually.

But I don't want merely to survive the current crisis; I want to make it as positive a time as I can for myself and others.  There's not a huge amount I can to for others, for obvious reasons; though we are clearly participating in the local village mutual support scheme, and I have also joined the EMCC's 4*4 offer of free support to people professionally; and am working on some more specific offers for my client base.


But this is clearly an opportunity to invest time in ways that are normally not easy; so I have decided to treat the next few months as largely a sabbatical, and set myself some aspirational targets, both work related and beyond work.

So, for example, I had already signed up to David Clutterbuck and Peter Hawkins' virtual course on Leadership Team Coaching which is running over the summer.  This is an opportunity to invest much more significant time in that to make the absolute most of the learning available.  So in advance of the programme's start, I am re-reading Hawkins' book on the subject and making more detailed notes.

Likewise, our garden will never be the same again!  And I have a number of other goals, spanning the various roles in my life.

So I recommend giving some thought to that question: when this extraordinary crisis is over, what will I need to have done, so that I know that I have used the time - both the challenge and the opportunity inherent in it, in the most positive way that I can?

Resilience

I have been reflecting a lot on resilience recently (which I am considering as the ability to work under increasing pressures without a stress response).  As preparation for some Stress Management workshops, I have been reviewing some of the most recent research (see for example Margaret Chesney’s lecture, available via iTunes University: “New Scientific Strategies for Managing Stress, Building Resilience and Bringing Balance to Life     [Show ID: 20631]”)


I have also been coaching a number of people experiencing both chronic and acute pressures, and reflecting on what has helped them - and in some cases their remarkable and humbling resilience.


What has proved interesting is the degree to which the most recent research gives ever-more solid underpinnings for the four-fold framework which I have been working with.  (Chesney talks explicitly about three strands, the physical (both physiological and behavioural) the mental, and the relational or social/emotional.  To these I add the existential/spiritual - dealing with issues of meaning and value.  That relates to my interest in Viktor Frankl, and also echoes Covey's framework in 7 Habits and First Things First.  And Chesney refers to it tacitly on several occasions: the importance of purpose, meaning and value.


Of course, this is all linked to my interest in narratives: the interpretations that people place upon their experiences, which can have a huge impact on positive affect - which is what all four strands are designed to support (and again, Chesney has the research to demonstrate the links between positive affect and resilience.)


And as someone who attended a recent workshop pointed out, there is nothing new under the sun.  The classic Christian virtues of Faith, Hope and Charity are a good bedrock for meaning, values, positive relationships, and positive affect generally - and similar underpinnings may be found in many other ancient and traditional wisdoms, with which I am less familiar.


The other area I am keen to explore, and possibly integrate more fully into my work on resilience, is humour. I have been intrigued by Metcalf's Humor Risk and Change programme and am sure he is onto something (though his presentation doesn't always play well with a British audience).  So I am on the look-out for any research on humour and resilience - any clues?