Learning the Art

When I make bread I usually follow my Grandma’s recipe.   Likewise when I make cheese I closely follow directions.  Even so, I have spent considerable time over the last several years learning these skills.  My poor family ate many loaves of flat, dense bread, and cheese failures dubbed “unidentifiable white mass.” 

 

So what’s the deal?  Am I just below average at following instructions? Perhaps, but I like to think that the learning process took time because these skills, like many others, are both theory and art. 

Here’s an example:  At some point most cheese recipes tell you to heat the curd. What they neglect to tell you is that if you heat the curd too fast, it breaks down creating paste instead of hard or semi hard cheese. Heat no more than two degrees every five minutes, theory says.  I’m learning the art of recognizing quickly approaching cheese failure.

Or take bread: Recipes usually tell you about how much flour is needed, say 6-8 cups.  Yet if you dump that much flour in at once you have a mess!  Experienced bread makers usually don’t measure their flour.  They add in a little at a time, let their bread rest, and stop adding flour when it feels right. 

I think that the act of doing conflict well in order to further peace shares this trait of being, at it’s best, influenced by both theory and art.

When my colleagues and I at Common Ground Conciliation Services Inc. conduct trainings about conflict much of what we offer is theory gleaned from social science:

We can tell you about the conflict escalation scale as well as ways to increase or decrease it.

We can tell you about the incredible power of real listening and some tips of what that might look like.

We can tell you about different styles or ways of doing conflict and times when each method may be appropriate.

And the list goes on.

This theory is valuable information; yet knowing it isn’t the same as living so as to further peace in the world around you. I can’t say I am a cheese maker just because I know the theory of how cheese is made. 

Conflict theory at it’s best isn’t something we can put on or put off depending on what we think will benefit us most.  To be most effective conflict theory must cease being theory, and become a part of who we are.

Even though the outcome of what I make sometimes disappoints me I am a baker and cheese maker.  With every batch I try to do just a little better, to learn more of the art.

Working toward peace through intentional everyday interactions is the same way. We are never going to arrive because no conflict is ever the same as the last. However, if we keep practicing despite our failures, we can always get better. And, isn’t that part of the fun?

Walk beside me!

My family names just about everything.  We have tractors Bill, Gene, Joe, and Lewis. We’ve named fields: Tennessee, Rhode Island, the Bayou… I sometimes name in haste and repent in leisure though. Take my cat Gabby, for instance.  I named her too early in our friendship.  It turns out she isn’t much of a Gabby; she much prefers being called Nellie.

Naming goes beyond dishing out handles for ease of conversation though.  Naming requires awareness. We need self-awareness to name our own needs, emotions, and trigger behaviors.  Likewise, by listening attentively we can create a safe place for others to name their needs and emotions too. This awareness helps us diffuse tension and find ways to move forward.

Here are two anecdotes to show you what I mean:

Self-awareness: I play the fiddle in our little family band and we worked up a few old ballad songs this summer. These songs have been sung in our family for generations and while we’ve written the words down, we’ve always learned the music by ear.  I can sing these songs just fine, but after working for months to learn the simple tunes on the fiddle they still wouldn’t stick.  As performance day drew closer and the pressure mounted I was just about ready to throw in the towel.  It took several tries, some incorrect naming, to finally pin down the problem.  Being a visual learner, every time I picked up my fiddle to play those tunes I had to RE-learn them before I could make the notes sound like the tune in my head.  Especially because of the time constraint, I needed the music in front of me before could I get to work with some hope of success.

Have you ever experienced the relief of putting words to some emotion, or need? It’s like a sigh or relaxation, a step in a helpful direction.

Other-awareness: It seems most respectful to those I live with and interact with to illustrate this with another animal story.  The other day the cattle came from the pasture to the corral.  My cow, Miss Molly was among them.  Since she is on her several month vacation our interaction has changed from twice daily to perhaps weekly.  As I peeled back the husk from the ear of corn I held I called for Molly and out she came, separating herself from the herd. This was only possible because of the “naming” I had done earlier in our friendship to gain her trust.  I noticed when she was hungry. I observed that she likes the tuft of hair on top of her head scratched.  She loves third cutting hay, and doesn’t care much for grain. Finally, what took me the longest to name accurately, she hates to be chased or led but will usually walk beside me in a most friendly manner wherever I want her to go.

Naming in other-awareness means noticing what others like and dislike, their triggers, what makes them tick... And then, when possible, behaving in such a way as to build their trust.  This is a gift we can give to each other since many people crave being known.

Look for the power of naming; the act of noticing and becoming aware.

Legacy

Across my dining room table sprawl large pieces of poster board littered with rulers, pencils, and open books of family history. You see, I’m drawing a family genogram of rather large proportions, and in the process I am learning much about myself through the mirror of my ancestors. 

This year our family farm turns 100 years old, and come the end of June we’re hosting a big bash with people coming from far and near.  Part of the day will be a multi-branch family reunion.  Of course, when you get cousins and second cousins from various family lines, those whom we call family can hardly be expected to know each other.  Thus the need for a family tree: a visual of how we are all connected to each other and to this place.

As I draw and label I recognize names and remember stories.  There’s Magdalena who went by Mattie, Maggie, and Molly.  So that’s where my family’s propensity for nicknaming came from! Great Granddad played the mandolin and fiddle, and many in the family sang with voices mixing in beautiful harmony.  It’s no wonder music seems as necessary as breath.  If my ancestors could look at a section of desert, envision making a living there, and actually pull it off, there must be a healthy streak of optimism, persistence, and stubbornness!   

We learn from our families.  We test behavior on those closest to us and hear what actions are appropriate.  As children we mimic our parents.  And of course, there are genetics.  Because of a combination of inheriting and learning, family stories can give us hints for self-awareness. 

We can look for patterns in our family history for many aspects of life, including how we engage with others during conflict or other times of stress.

In your family culture what is the most appropriate way of dealing with disagreement? 

What fights, breaks in relationship, or ruptures have happened in your family history?  How does that affect your response to relational crisis? 

When you hear family stories, in which of your ancestors do you see yourself most often?

Side by Side

A rather remarkable bottle of olive oil sits in our kitchen cupboard.  Square, beautiful dark green glass, with a dark yellow and green label that, among other things, says “Sindyanna of Galilee.”

Sindyanna of Galilee is a non-profit organization located in Western Galilee.  Founded by women, this organization works to provide employment opportunities for both Arab and Jewish women, to bolster the local olive oil industry, and to do fair trade commerce.  According to their website, “Sindyanna symbolizes a unique cooperation between Arabs and Jews, striving to strengthen the economy of the Arab population in Israel. Sindyanna is not only a means of helping farmers and growers from the North, but also a way of showing that a solution to the Middle East conflict begins with creating real economic opportunities.”

You read that correctly.  In one of the most conflicted areas in the world there is a place where Israeli and Palestinian women work side by side.

Often in conflict, especially interpersonal conflict, we focus on words.  We talk about healthy communication; we talk about what kind of words hurt and which help.  We spend considerable amounts of time talking.  Sometimes the outcome seems clear after such conversations.  Other times, however, I agree with Eliza Doolittle who sings in My Fair Lady, “Words, words, words, I’m so sick of words…!”

Growing up I fought with one of my brothers a lot.  We were best buddies who did many things together.  However, since we were, and still are, definitely different individuals there were eruptions of squabbling.  One day our mom, probably past all patience with our fighting, ordered us to clean out the flowerbeds. Not only that, there would be no starting from each end for us.  We were to work side by side. 

There is something powerful in working together, in accomplishing a task, in building a common memory.  There is most definitely a place for words and conversation in conflict.  However, words aren’t the end all.  Next time you’re at odds with someone, DO something together.  Accomplish something.  Work toward a common goal.  Then talk.

In case you're interested in learning more about Sindyanna of Galilee: http://www.sindyanna.com/sindyanna_of_galilee/

Bin Building

Sitting up in one of my brother’s hay fields is a concrete slab with the makings of a grain bin sitting on it.  My brother owns a wheat seed business and is gradually adding storage.  We built one bin last year, and now assembling another climbs higher on the to-do list. 

I know what I’m getting myself into this year.  These bins are made of sheets of corrugated metal shaped in an arc.  The metal sheets are bolted together until they form a circle.  You start with the top ring, lift it, bolt the next ring underneath, and so on making the bin grow taller and taller. 

One of the major building blocks of sturdy relationships is trust.  Significantly, when conflict occurs trust can easily be broken. Though counterintuitive, that doesn’t necessarily mean the relationship is over, it just means trust must be intentionally built again.

I wonder if building trust is like building grain bins. 

Structure: In order to keep the partially completed bin safely elevated enough to attach the next ring you need to have significant support. Similarly, support can be necessary in the process of trust building.  We build trust through positive interaction and constructive communication. If people trust each other already fewer supports are needed.  However, if trust is shaky or has been broken a great deal of support is needed while building takes place.   

In bin building this support took the form of forklifts bolted to the bin to lift and steady it.  When building trust support can take a great number of forms but here are a few: communication guidelines to remind us to be respectful, contracts to clarify expectation, conversations about what we need from each other, or having a third person in the room when interacting.

Little things add up: There is no doubt that grain bins are made up of large pieces. However, those pieces are linked together and stabilized by thousands of nuts and bolts.  When you’re working to reinforce trust pay attention to the little things.  Many moments of positive interaction add up to a great whole of strengthened trust.

Sustainability: the goal in building is that this bin will someday stand on it’s own built in structure; not only stand but withstand wind, storms, and everyday use.  Even though trust is easily cracked in conflict, trust also helps relationships withstand conflict.  Create strength in your relationships by building in respect, mutual care, and kindness thus giving your relationships greater likelihood of holding up not only in everyday interaction, but storms too.