Compassionate Conversations

How to Speak and Listen from the Heart

~ Diane Musho Hamilton, Gabriel Menegale Wilson and Kimverly Myosai Loh, 2020

2. What We Have in Common

We Need to Belong

Sameness is relieving; difference is exciting and problematic, and our work belongs in the tension between the two.

Our Differences Matter Too

Creativity and connection results from engaging difference.

This is one of the deepest values we share - revealing our differences, and not just coping with them. [...] We have each made the choice to stay in the conversation, making many mistakes in the process and making friends with saying or doing the wrong thing.

3. An Exploration of Difference

The Practice

  1. The next time your are triggered, become very interested in your firsthand experience of fight or flight in the body. Stay present. Explore all the sensations in the body without judging or wishing them away.
  2. Focus on the breath, breathing rhythmically and evenly. Extend the exhalation, allowing negative thoughts to dissolve. Notice how the bodily sensations become more manageable.
  3. Remember to encourage yourself. Remind yourself that by staying present and becoming familiar with your own body, you will create the space for new and different responses whenever you feel threatened.

9. A History of Injury

How Should we Listen

Peace circles are a type of talking circle [...]. Circles provide a safe structure for people to express sensitive matters, with the intention of creating mutual understanding and connection.

The safe environment, quality of listening, and one person's willingness to express openly and vulnerably had catalyzed others to follow in kind, providing a natural invitation for people to speak up.

People were allowed to speak, to remember, and to feel, while the others simply listened and witnessed, without blame or judgment.

Awareness per se of and by itself can be curative ~ Fritz Perls

Painting the Cracks with Gold

Las summer, Kim's friend had a favorite black mug smashed to pieces by his cat , who enjoys pushing things off the table. Noticing her friend's crestfallen face as they picked up the pieces together, she told him the traditional Japanese art of kintsugi, where broken pottery is mended wit gold resin or lacquer so that the cracks are illuminated rather than concealed. With a sense of duty and love, they carefully glued the shards back together and traced the cracks with thin lines of shimmering gold paint. As if to symbolize scars from life experiences, the striking gold highlighted the imperfections and kept the event of change meaningful and alive. This ancient process embodies the Japanese philosophy of mushin, or not mind/heart, wherein the concepts of nonattachment and acceptance of change are considered integral aspects of human life and existence.

The way that we remember our own life-shattering events is important. There is immense power in retelling and integrating such events. There is a danger, of course, that we become so identified with out pain that we create more suffering for ourselves. While it is important to acknowledge the ways in which we may have been traumatized, it is also important not to assume the identity of a victim. A Tibetan Buddhist teacher says, "If an arrow wounds you, you can blame the one who shot the arrow for your injury. But if you then take that arrow and grind it deeper and deeper into your wound, that is your ow doing".

Practicing nonattachment to suffering means that we accept our pain, and we also see that we are far more than it. When pain is acknowledged, it can be released. There is freedom in finding distance not only from our injuries but also from all of our experiences, memories, and preoccupation with ourselves. In Zen we cultivate this recognition of what is known as emptiness, the freedom from our stories, identity, and self-referencing. Because we are fundamentally empty, that is, capable of letting go, we have the capacity for healing and forgiveness.

Like the practice of mending broken pots with gold resin, we can be inspired to find meaningful and sacred ways of talking about and receiving one another's recollections of injury. Ans yet, as we attend to the cracks lovingly, we cannot forget abut the body of the pot itself and the motivations behind the act of mending. Our life is based on the principle that whatever hurts other people hurts us; that the injustices experienced by others are also injustices experienced by us. None of us can truly be free, fulfilled, and empowered unless we are working to ensure that everyone can be free, fulfilled, and empowered.

We value a sincere kind of wholeness in our relationships, and our experiences. When we return our attention to the whole, we see the whole pot: its shape and size, its form and function, the golden cracks and the still-formed panels. It has the greatest potential when it is empty. By communing with our shared history of suffering, we can appreciate our imperfect yet precious humanity. An from that point of deep connection, we elevate our changes for a happier shared future.

The Practice

  1. Take time to reflect on an injury in your life.
  2. Is there a story that you tell others about what happened?
  3. Think about the people you have told the story to and how they were able to be present to deeply listen to you.
  4. Set the intention to be present and listen, without fixing, judging, or trying to comfort the speaker the next time someone shares a story of injury with you.

Strong Emotions in Conversation

[...]. What makes Jon's story notable is his willingness to simply name his feelings, and this gesture quickly changed the dynamics of the situation.

Emotions are extremely intelligent, informative, an energetic, but working with them is an art, one that requires intention.

Feelings bring people to life; they communicate powerfully and immediately.

In learning about emotions, it is helpful to begin by making several distinctions. First, we need to practice locating the corresponding sensations in the body - for example, trembling in the hands, constriction in the throat, or pressure in the head. These sensations can be intense, chaotic, or overwhelming. Sometimes we have to practice noting sensations directly, without any mental interpretations, because we have such an sensations with food or drink. Sensations in the body become feelings when they are given names such as "fear", "sadness", or "anger". In other words, when we feel them, we quickly interpret them mentally and then assign a label to them. Full blown emotions arise when the feedback loop between our thoughts and the embodied sensations is synced-up and running. For example, we might experience the direct sensations of anger as pressure in the head, clenching in the jaws, higher volume in the voice, heat in the face, and gripping in the arms and hands. At the same time, our mind i likely fulled with thoughts and judgments like "I'm so pissed," "He was unfair", or "I'm going to put a stop to that!" The more we generate thoughts associated with the feeling state, the more the feelings are amplified and sustained. Sensations give rise to thoughts and labels, and thoughts and labels reinforce sensations in an ongoing feedback loop. [...] There are times in conversations when slowing down and simply feeling for a moment can be extremely helpful. It is sometimes relieving to pause and turn our attention directly to the body, noticing just the physical sensations. We can ask ourselves, Where are the sensations located? What is their texture or qualities? How they are moving or changing? Once sensation is experienced directly, we can ask for the name of the feeling, eliciting words like fear, anger, or sadness. This labeling helps us connect even more deeply with our embodied experience, rather than simply coping with it. Next, we can look for what thoughts come up in relation to the sensations. By learning to pay close attention, we can interrupt the habitual mind-body feedback loop, and we become much more aware, fresh, and considered in what we want to say.