Be A Lighthouse in These Times
As we leave 2020 behind, recent events in DC starkly remind us, we need much more repair and healing of the divides in our society.
Take heart, we can each take meaningful action and make a positive difference. Each of us—you, me, our friends and family—have an opportunity to be a lighthouse in the darkness of fear.
No doubt, the challenges seem daunting: flaming social divides, hyperpartisanship, a raging pandemic, roiling financial and job insecurity, shootings of unarmed citizens, suffering refugees, and more. Just thinking (or feeling) about these produces physical (and emotional) reactions that may range from subtle to quite obvious.
Research shows that the physical sensations of fear, usually some type of contraction, are directly linked to a contraction of the heart muscle. As it turns out, those contractions correspond to a shrinking of the attributes we associate with “heart": our innate kindness, empathy and compassion. And, that contraction also cuts us off from our higher cognitive functioning such as discernment. Psychologically speaking, it's virtually impossible to have a closed heart and an open mind.
And, practically speaking, it’s almost impossible to have a productive interaction with anyone—let alone someone with a different perspective—with a closed mind and contracted heart.
A Time for Courage
Fearing fear itself, as FDR famously reminded us, drives a tragic human paradox: it is not physical threats that pose the greatest danger; rather, our unconscious reactions to fear rob us of our ability to respond effectively and with the best of our humanity.
Unchecked fear sadly can render us callous, reckless…and stupid. Tragically, as our advisor, Van Jones warns, we can easily become the thing we’re fighting. And because social behavior is highly contagious, whatever we do, we’re likely to see in others.
For example, remember, what we see on social media is not indicative of the majority of Americans. 10% of Twitter users drive 97% of political tweets. Although recent research from the APA shows 77% of Americans fear for the future of our country, a report from More In Common shows close to 80% of American think even with our differences we can work together.
With practice and support, we can meet uncertainty with open-hearted courage, and inspire a sense of calm and belonging for ourselves and others. We can learn to open our own hearts (and minds) to create a different outcome in our relationships, our community and our democracy.
Get Familiar with Our Fear-based Reactions
Notice our fear-based thinking patterns, but don’t buy them
We can increase our wise and compassion action by observing—but not following—our negative automatic thoughts in the face of fear. Our brains, fired up with stress hormones, are designed to shut down nonessential systems, laser focus on the perceived threat and secrete exaggerated, scary stories in order to get us out of (perceived) harms' way as quickly as possible.
Alas, humans have a terrible time distinguishing exaggerated negative automatic thoughts from real danger signals in the environment. So unless the threat is immediate, physical peril, our response is almost always inappropriate at best, and extreme and highly destructive at worst. Over time, we can get stuck in black and white, us vs. them, zero-sum, highly distorted thinking that destroys a sense of possibility and belonging for ourselves and others.
These automatic thoughts cause us to be silent, to lash out, or to silence or dehumanize others. This diminishes our relationships and our positive impact in the world. On the individual level, this can be tragic. In aggregate, it can be catastrophic.
Embrace Complexity, Common Humanity - and Pause
Under stress, our brains collapse complexity. Uncertainty feels unbearable to the anxious mind. (This of course, makes sense. If we were in physical danger, we would need to know RIGHT NOW what is happening so we could react instantly.)
But by collapsing complexity, we can misread what is actually happening, the potential for alternative interpretations of motivations and actions, and any inherent potential for positive outcomes. Often hope dies and despair rises.
Politics today is a morality play a story of good and evil. We are told over and over that roughly 70 million Americans are the “good guys,” and roughly 70 million are the “bad guys.” Although our anxious brains embrace this familiar, simplified plotline, it's a story that inevitably ends badly, often in violence. No wonder so many of us feel hopeless.
Our society will only survive and thrive if we step back and embrace complexity. Are there aspects of ourselves (as “good guys”) and others (“bad guys”) that don’t fit that simple narrative? Can we, as Whitman wrote, recognize and embrace the contradictory multitudes of humanity? Whenever I can catch my inner dialogue filled with “always” or “never” or a sense of disdain for another human being, I try to pause and connect with the root of courage, heart. I put a hand on my heart and remember my values, I sincerely want a more kind, caring and fair world for all. And I try to remember the good hearts of others.
Betty next door may have voted differently but I know how much she cares for our vulnerable neighbors and my family. When we see our common humanity, we appreciate the ways we’re similar: we all want to be loved, we all want to avoid suffering, we will all lose loved ones, and we all have our limitations and contradictions.
Cultivate Compassion, Calm and Connection
In this moment, I’m asking myself who and how I want to be. What will I be proud of when I look back at the end of my life? How will I have been a lighthouse, offering a little more compassion, calm and connection in the darkness of fear?
To see this better world, I’m practicing these techniques to move out of blind fear and back into connection with my values, greater perspective and shared humanity.
1. Find a point of care.
Remembering that I can’t have an open mind with a closed heart—and neither can the person I’m interacting with. I’m trying to find a way to feel warm-hearted toward the other person Although we have multiple identities, we tend to adhere to the one that feels most .threatened. If we can find an area of commonality or compassion, we loosen our attachment to one identity and remember others. If I feel safe enough, I try to use my own suffering as a way to connect. I lost my brother a year and a half ago, by far the hardest thing I’ve ever experienced. There were times I truly didn’t know how I’d live the rest of my life without him. I will sometimes ask a person I’m struggling with, “Do you have any tips for grief?” So many people will share a significant loss they’ve had, meeting me in a place beyond backgrounds, ideologies or perspectives. This can shift our relationship in profound and often permanent ways.
2. Expand our sense of family.
My dear friend and colleague, Juanita Capri Brown, calls this “360-degree Compassion.” When we were doing a racial justice and equity program for a large organization, a division leader, Elizabeth, was clearly very anxious. Her anxiety was often derailing our work. As I got increasing annoyed, Juanita responded, “Oh, scared sister Elizabeth. She’ll come around.” That simple reframe to “scared sister” changed everything. I felt care and compassion for Elizabeth and her fears, and, of course, her response to me softened, and she became more open to the work.
3. Practice humility.
One of the best and somewhat surprising practices for greater calm, courage and belonging is humility. I personally find humility incredibly effective for opening my heart and cueing my curiosity, while reducing my fear, anxiety and, surprisingly, my loneliness. No one expects me to solve everything or be perfect. I’m not alone. I am part of a vast whole that want a better life for all. As Professor Ron Heifitz from Harvard Kennedy School once said, "There are no experts. The best we can do is say, ‘I know something and you know something. I promise to stay with you so we can learn something together.'”
In honor of this new year especially, I'm giving thanks for the profound fact that I'm here, and here at a moment when we have the choice and tools to respond in ways that expand our humanity, and possibly our human future on this planet.
“Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching to mend the part that is within our reach.”
