Author Archives: Paul Mitchell

Showing One’s Face

My wife and I used to work here in downtown Cairo, Egypt.

My wife’s work was in the legal aid clinic.  She worked often with one translator, a young woman from Somalia, when preparing the cases of Somali clients.  This woman wore the niqab, so my wife had only ever seen her eyes.

Then, the day before we were to return to the US, this young woman approached my wife to say goodbye and told her that she wanted to find a place alone so that she could show my wife her face.     

There was no real privacy on the compound.  The workspace of the entire legal aid clinic was, generously estimated, about 14 feet by 24 feet, with an adjoining bathroom.  So my wife and this Somali woman went into the bathroom, saw each other face to face, and said goodbye.

Deciding to show our face to someone takes significant courage. 

How do we become people who have the desire to show our face to one another?  

How do we become someone of such love that people want to show their face to us?

Power-tropism

Plants are phototropic.  Over time, they orient themselves according to the light source in their environment, bending either toward the light or away from it.

Many people are power-tropic.  They bend toward (or away from) those that they perceive are in power, and reflexively take on (or react against) their characteristics.

Seeing this phenomenon can help us understand our own motivation, the motivation of others, and, then, how to shape culture in a just way.

A Fresh Piece of Paper

Growing up, when we (one of my siblings or I) had convinced ourselves that a homework problem had stumped us, our father would do the following.

He would bring us to his desk, turn on the desk light, give us a blank sheet of paper, and sharpen our pencil.  He would talk out the problem with us if we wanted and then (this part was key) would leave.  He showed that he trusted us to solve our own problems.   

And, surprise!  We always figured it out.

I think often about that exercise, particularly when I feel momentarily stuck.  What a gift to be given the habit of trying again, at a different angle, with a fresh piece of paper.

Difficult Conversations

One of the things that makes difficult conversations so difficult is that there are actually multiple conversations going on.  In a truly tough talk, there is probably:

1) The Feelings Conversation: Narrative spun out of the reality of how I am / we are feeling

2) The “What Happened” Conversation: Narrative establishing the facts the conflict

3) The Identity Conversation: Narrative and analysis about what this means for how I see myself / us.

If two people are stuck in different “conversations,” they can neither attend to each other nor communicate effectively. 

So, in a relationship where conflict is possible, it is an enormous help to have the ability to talk about and refer back to these three conceptual hooks before a conflict begins. (For more, check out the book on difficult conversations.)

The Analysis Tax

My mind can be running analysis on my situation (i.e. “This is good, bad, boring, fun, a waste, meaningful, etc.”)…

Or it can be spacious and present.

I’ve come to think of this analysis as a tax on my ability to interact with reality. 

This hyper-analysis is often involuntary, but noting it drains it of its power.

Giving up analysis (and so the tax) for a day or a week or longer has the potential to be a deeply freeing experiment.

Making a Point, Making a Connection, Making a Difference

Making a point is, in the short term, quite fun.  With a rhetorical flourish, we spin a narrative about how we see the world.  Sometimes, this involves putting someone in their place in a way that activates the defensiveness of their ego (and ours).  Little positive change can come from this.

Making a point is different from making a connection.

Making a connection is harder than making a point.  It begins with listening.  Truly, humbly listening.  And then, with prudence and patience, willing the good of another.

Put another way, in order to make a difference in the world, first we must make a connection with a person.  This path is far better (and more courageous) than simply making a point. 

Be Careful or Pay Attention

A month ago, our family spent a week on a ranch with a group of lifelong friends and their children.  As a group of our children scaled a rock wall together (and I became increasingly nervous), I asked another dad how he considers the physical risks that his children take.  He responded with the following.  

“My wife and I don’t really say ‘be careful’ to our kids because we don’t want them to be fearful, or necessarily careful, as they interact with the world.  Instead we say, ‘pay attention.’  We want them to pay attention to their surroundings and how they are feeling at any moment.  To be able to assess risk clearly and learn from any situation that they encounter.”

That sounded right to me, and honestly like advice that I should take.  

Now, as I remind my children to “pay attention” when they take risks, I am reminded in return of a profound hope for them and for myself.  I hope for our ability to attend to the world and the inner life with sensitivity and intuition, rather than with fear.