Simplifying a Complicated World

The world is not easy to navigate. It’s complex and drains a lot of energy from you. Complicated connections. Pull one thing and a whole lot of others come apart, too.

Lots of tangled wires, all connected.

Sometimes, when we don’t do anything except witness–watch and wait, take notes before acting or jumping to conclusions–we get more information. That step–being a witness instead of a fixer–holds the space for learning.

Choosing to be a fixer means we rush in with an answer, a suggestion, a solution as soon as we sense the connection is complicated. We want to simplify it, cut it apart, all before we are sure what  the problem really is. Because solving problems gives us a shot at being a hero. If we are a witness, and wait for information, well, time could be lost.

It’s a twisted fence, ugly from this view. Complicated, too.

Time doesn’t get lost. We do, but time does not. Time knows exactly where it is. When we stand still, stay calm, witness, take notes, don’t give advice till we know what we are doing, we catch up with time. We gather information. We don’t take on work that isn’t ours to do. We see what is ready to resolve itself without our help.

A simple pattern evolves.

And then, in the sharp shadow of understanding, the information becomes not only clear, but beautiful. Sometimes without our getting involved at all. The shadow of the fence on the sidewalk shows, not the complicated twisted pattern, but a simple light and dark outline of connections.

The other side of complicated is not simple, it’s waiting. So we can learn more.

—Quinn McDonald is a creativity coach who learns on her walks every day.

Listen First, Witness Next, No Fixing Allowed

My friends are helpful and caring. I post a blog on a problem, and I’ll be smothered in advice and how-to’s to fix my problem. Even if I didn’t ask for help.

We’re a helping culture. Business prize problem-solvers and frown on those who don’t take action and take it quickly. To-do lists are touted as the traction in action. That’s all good. I’m a person of action myself, and I value getting busy and getting it done.

It’s a natural reaction to hear a problem and think about a solution. We’ve been trained to do it. Women do it because we are natural helpers. Men do it because action is presupposed to move toward an answer. In truth, action is often not what is needed in friendship.

Yesterday, a client told me, “When I need support and I get a to-do list, it just exhausts me.” And the client is absolutely right. What we want most from friends is to be heard. To be listened to. Often an answer isn’t needed. Just a nod of the head, or a hug.

We can’t fix other people’s hearts. We can witness their grief and validate their difficult feelings. Fixing is a natural impulse, but people who are angry, sad, or confused don’t need to be “should” on at that moment. They want to know that someone is on their side. Hears them. Sympathizes with their predicament.

We don’t do that, because empathy is much harder than advice. It demands looking into our heart and finding room for empathy. Grabbing a quick fix, an emotional bandage is much easier than sitting in silence, or asking a good question, or saying, “Wow that sounds tough for you right now,” and then being silent. We don’t like to admit we don’t know. We want our cheerful friend back, so we do something to make ourselves feel better. And that doesn’t help a friend who needs listening.

When I blog and ask, “What would you do?” I often get, “You should. . .” followed by well-meant intentions, usually suggestions the writer would never do–
“Sit down and write a gratitude list”
“Sit down and write a list of 10 reasons why [you should feel better].”
“Call up the person who hurt your feelings and tell them you love them”

Notice I said, “what would you do?” not, “tell me what I should do.” We want to fix things, so we reach for the emotional equivalent of kissing a boo-boo to make it better. We also want all this messy anger and tear business out of our lives, so fixing another person’s life is a handy reaction.

The best part is that if the other person’s life isn’t fixed, it was because they didn’t take our advice. Their fault. We are out of it. We can give them more advice on how to do it better next time.

Here’s a challenge: the next time someone pours out their heart to you, resist the urge to fix. Listen. Witness. Nod, repeat back some of the things you hear. Don’t tell your story, don’t tell a friend’s story. Listen. It is the best help of all.

–Image: Raven Listens (c) 2008, by Quinn McDonald

–Quinn McDonald is a certified creativity coach. See her work at (c) QuinnMcDonald. com. (c) 2008. All rights reserved.