The Book of Love Isn't Always Easy to Read

"The most changeable aspects of [a] couple's situation, in our view, are in each partner's actions and interpretations of the other's actions. We call this changing the 'doing' and the 'viewing' of the couple's problem." Patricia O'Hanlon Hudson and William Hudson O'Hanlon, Rewriting Love Stories.  

Most people who've been in long-term relationships have settled into at least some patterns that seem frustratingly familiar and frustratingly unchangeable. 

Sometimes we're aware of how we reinforce these patterns, and sometimes not. Often, we interpret the intentions behind a partner's actions (or failure to act), characterizing them in general terms ("stingy," "thoughtless," etc.), and otherwise casting blame - unwilling to acknowledge our own faults for fear our words will be used as ammunition.

So, instead of thinking of your primary relationship as a battlefield, think of it as a book you're trying to understand. The Book of Love has four key sections:  

Part I: The Love Story. In the beginning, we're all reading a love story. We're enthralled, infatuated, paying attention only to the obvious text, seeing only what we want to see, feeling emotionally and mentally alive. We love this book and recommend it to everyone!

Part II: Identifying the Characters. Gradually, we figure out who's doing what in our story, the roles and expectations, and suppressing ourselves somewhat for fear of upsetting/losing our partner. We begin to wonder if our story is what we thought it was going to be.

Part III: The Plot Thickens. We all long to be truly known and show all of ourselves, warts and all. We begin to read and be read "between the lines." When we don't like the way the story is going, our options are to:

• see everyone but the partner as attractive;
• try to make the partner what s/he "should be" through anger, disapproval, or withdrawal;
• refuse to deal with the difficulties (and later repeat the pattern with someone else);
• see this part of the story as an opportunity to pay conscious attention to our patterns and grow beyond them (see Part IV).

Part IV: The Love Story Re-Written. We can be good editors of our own stories. This happens when we shift attention away from how we and our partner "should" be and toward who each of us really is. Some suggestions from Bill O'Hanlon:

1. Acknowledge/validate each person's feelings and point of view. Be specific, give examples, vs. blaming. No need to judge here, just try to understand. Reflect back what you've heard.
2. Move the discussion from complaints about the past to what you would like to have happen.
3. Use "videotalk" ("Imagine it's the future. When I'm showing love what, exactly, am I doing? What, exactly, am I saying?")
4. Agree to what each of you will do that's different, and DO it, with a sense of humor, please.

Soul-Mates

Friends interested in each other at the soul level do not simply look at each other's lives and listen to each other's intentions and explanations. They look together at this third thing that is the soul, and in that mutual gaze they find and sustain their friendship. Thomas Moore.

All enduring relationships are friendships, whether pals, spouses, or other life partners. With truly mutual affection, we listen and are listened to; we know the other and are known.

Sometimes we're blocked from true mutuality, however, by automatic responses that are personality-bound. Some partners may resist giving up control, for example. Others may jump to judgment, suppress their own needs, feel competitive over their partner's successes, dream unrealistically of a more ideal relationship, have difficulty sharing their emotions or trusting others, avoid deep conversations, or give in too quickly to their partner's preferences. 

These and many other personality attributes, while they can bring complementary gifts to a relationship, also have the potential to exaggerate each partner's down side. 

With a couple I've coached, Barb is a highly relational person in partnership with Joe, who's more independent, more focused on thoughts than feelings. What felt like a complementary strength in the beginning had become a source of criticism:

Barb: "You never tell me you love me."

Joe: "It doesn't feel natural to me. You know I love you. Why do I have to say it?"

Barb: "I've lost a lot of weight and have new clothes, but you never tell me how good I look."

Joe: "Well, you can see that in a mirror. Why do you need to hear that from me?"

When Barb and Joe began to examine their relationship as a system, focusing on what Moore refers to as a "mutual gaze," they noticed how, when Barb pushed Joe to share his feelings, that only led him to withdraw. They agreed to two practices that began to change their automatic responses.

First, Barb agreed to pull back some so Joe had space to enter the pool of emotions, one toe at a time. This gradually reduced his fear of drowning in feelings. She and I also explored her sense of self to develop more intrinsic awareness of her attractiveness as a person (not tied to her outward appearance or compliments). 

Second, Joe had a private session with me where we invented some playful ways to interrupt his pattern of shy withdrawal from emotions. To him, saying "You look great in that outfit" seemed superficial, especially because he'd loved Barb equally before and after her weight loss.

Joe does spend a lot of time in his head and has a terrific, Far Side kind of humor. So I knew I had his interest when we played with ways to exaggerate comments to Barb:

"My darling, you are the goddess of the universe!"
"My beauty, you are the oil paint on the canvas of my life!"
"You look so stunning in that outfit; it makes me want to sing!"

No, Joe didn't actually say those things to Barb (though she would have been good-natured about it because they were focused on mutual development). But creating those outrageously inauthentic phrases made him laugh, and then a simple "I love you" or "You look nice tonight" began to seem easy.

This is what's meant by soul-mates.

Alter the Interaction, Not the Other Person

How often when you're having relationship problems, do you focus on how "touchy," "unreliable," "critical" etc. the other person is? Operating from that premise, you may have unwittingly attempted solutions that continued or even exaggerated the perceived problem.

Let's say someone who is operating from Enneagram point One sees her spouse (at point Nine) as not hands-on enough in their family business–she thinks he gives employees too much leeway.

She questions her husband frequently and in detail.

As a consequence, he doesn't tell her about what he does that's hands-on because he thinks She'll just nit-pick anyway.

This confirms her belief that he isn't paying enough attention to details, which leads her to follow up more frequently.

He responds by retreating even more, leading her to check in even more, and so on.

In contrast, you can reframe a situation as an interaction problem. A fundamental premise of this approach is that problems in relationships persist only if maintained by both people–not only the one identified as having the problem:

• Problems that occur between people are situational difficulties–both are doing something to maintain the problem. 
• It's normal and appropriate to resist attempts by another to "fix" us; such so-called resistance can become a source of energy with positive potential.
• It may seem paradoxical, but going with the other person's energy is much more likely to make a difference than lecturing, advising, or scolding.

You can shift focus from what's wrong with the other person to how you both contribute to a self-fulfilling problem. To do this requires two critical skills: 

1. Focus on observable behaviors in the interaction (vs. only the behavior of the other person).
2. Do something to alter the interaction (as opposed to trying to change the other person).

Ideally, both partners in the interaction would talk about the self-fulfilling pattern and decide together how they can interrupt it and do something different. Sometimes, though, one of the partners isn't willing to do this. In this case, it's still possible for one of them to break the cycle.

Paradoxically, changes we seek in other people are more likely to occur if we first accept those people as they are. A particularly interesting application of this concept relies on the paradox of going with a behavior in order to change it. 

Following this premise, the person above could reframe the negative connotation of "not being hands-on enough" and frame the same goals in positive terms, with something like this: "I like the idea of being able to trust our employees to do their jobs well. Let's figure out an approach that gives them more autonomy and doesn't require our checking in on them."


(For a full description of this approach see The Paradoxical Approach to Problem Solving)

Loop the Loop

What do I mean by a "systems approach" to relationships? An analogy is our natural environment, where we easily understand two key principles. 

A stable environment tends to maintain stability (homeostasis). For example, when sunlight is plentiful and atmospheric temperature climbs, phytoplankton on the ocean's surface thrive and produce more dimethyl sulfide (DMS); the DMS molecules in turn increase cloud condensation, and the increasing number of clouds lowers the temperature of the atmosphere. 

Changes in one part of the environment will affect others parts. Think of what happened with the introduction of kudzu, jokingly referred to as "the vine that ate the South." Kudzu was brought to the U.S. from China in an effort to control erosion, but these non-native vines spread rapidly and killed many trees by shading them with leaves.

Those who introduced kudzu to a non-native environment were using what's referred to as "single-loop learning": Hey, this plant grows quickly and would stabilize some ground that's eroding. Let's try it! "Double-loop learning" would have been to consider that basic assumption in light of a bigger picture, the environment into which the kudzu would grow, whether or not it would have natural boundaries or constraints similar to those in its natural environment.

You can use the same principles in your relationships:

What do you do that maintains homeostasis, even when you don't like the results? If your spouse or roommate expects you to manage the finances, for example, and you'd rather not, do you grouse as you balance the checkbook, or do you step back and ask Wait a minute, why does this keep happening even though I complain? Clearly my grousing isn't changing anything. What have you introduced into a key relationship, thinking it would have a positive result, only to find it made things worse?

For example, Gary Chapman's five Love Languages are acts of service, quality time, physical touch, affirming words, receiving gifts, A client whose love language was acts of service thought she would get closer with her partner by doing little things for him, but he withdrew more and more, interpreting these acts as implicit criticism that he couldn't do those things well enough. His love language was affirming words. All she needed to do was tell him what she loved about him, but until they stepped back and examined their assumptions about how to express "love," her attempts to grow closer were only creating distance between them.

Forget everything you thought you knew about change

Greg was a college professor who loved mental gymnastics but wasn't very comfortable with emotions. He especially dreaded extended family holidays because his wife Suzanne thought his relatives were cold and arrogant, and invariably a member of his family would say something that upset her during their visit. She would then go into what he called "a dramatic meltdown." Greg's response? He didn't want to talk about it with Suzanne; he wanted to hide. This upset her even more, which increased his desire to withdraw. Greg wanted Suzanne to stop reacting "so emotionally." She wanted him to "quit being so intellectual and support her."

I asked Greg to think of a way to go with the pattern instead of trying to avoid it. He decided he'd suggest to Suzanne that when with his family they'd find a private space every hour and take ten minutes so she could vent. He would take her feelings seriously.

Greg loved the idea of expecting and planning time for Suzanne to blow off steam, because he wouldn't be distracted wondering when or how it might happen. When he told Suzanne, she was pleased that he was acknowledging her right to her feelings about his family.

As it turned out, they didn't need to take ten minutes every hour. Just knowing they could do it was freeing. "That outing," Greg later said, "turned out to be our very best family visit. While we hoped to be able to make it through two days, we actually stayed three days extra."

More in Out of the Box Self-Coaching Workbook.

Transforming the Interaction Patterns

No matter how deep our individual developmental work, it's only truly tested out in the world, with our friends, partners, and social groups. And it's a beauty of the Enneagram that we more easily see potential interaction patterns among different points.  

We know the particular filters at each point, as well as characteristic ways of interacting. Responses from the other eight points will also vary with each. 

So, a couple operating from points Eight (female partner) and Nine (male partner) might be drawn together initially because of their mutual comfort with point Eight providing structure, then both begin to feel some pain from that same dynamic. Point Eight has plenty of ideas but may forget to include point Nine, who hasn't initiated any ideas. He goes along with her, then obsesses over being left out. Over time, she's exhausted from having to "hold up the world" (a belief typical at point Eight and thus sustained, of course). He is equally tired of feeling "invisible" (though his fixated behaviors, of course, tend to evoke that feeling).

The gift in mutual development is that neither partner is on the hot spot because both are learning about themselves within the relationship. This does require courage, however—to take personal responsibility for the relationship, to deepen our own self-awareness, to accept and integrate parts of ourselves we have not wanted to know and see, moving attention away from how we and our partner should be and toward who we are.

Step 1: Each share with the other your understanding of your Enneagram point in general and how, specifically, that plays out for you. What doesn't fit for you about that point's dynamics? What are your gifts? What problems do you think your motivations and behavior do or could create in the relationship? Ask each other for feedback and listen to it.

Step 2: Create a clear picture of what the transformed relationship will look like and commit yourselves to learning as you go. Pick two or three areas of mutual development (don't overwhelm yourselves with too many promises); set some priorities and work on them one at a time.

Step 3: Be alert to how you get in the way of your own progress and stay committed to the transformation—notice and affirm each other for the ways in which you stick to the plan. When one of you gets hooked into an old reaction, instead of placing blame, try to understand how it happened and what either of you could do the next time to keep from getting caught up in the old pattern.

Mother and Child Reunion

Because many people are worried about their adult children in a tough economy, let's explore a relationship pattern that can emerge when parents help so much that they actually create dependence.

What if one of your adult children needs a car to get to work, requires a lawyer, has a medical emergency, can't provide for your grandchildren? When operating from inside the relationship's patterns, the solution appears to be simple: If you have the resources, you offer them to your son/daughter/grandchild. What could possibly be wrong with this picture?

Consider this story:

A naturalist watched a big worm spend many hours squeezing through a tiny pinhole in its sack, until a slender butterfly with powerful wings emerged and vigorously flew away. Observing a second cocoon, the naturalist became impatient and made a thin cut in the sack so the creature wouldn't have such a struggle. This butterfly emerged after twenty minutes, but with weak wings and a heavy bottom. Without the exertion that pushed juice up into its now flaccid and flabby wings, it couldn't fly!

Upon hearing this story, my client Maureen significantly changed her approach with her adult son. Mike had finally found a job after a long struggle and had managed to pay $800 for a friend's old car and ante up for car insurance on his own. After a few weeks of work, he'd found himself stranded on the freeway when the car's engine seized up (oil leak) and couldn't be repaired. Searching for options and knowing he didn't have good enough credit to finance a car, he'd called Maureen to discuss the possibility of a loan.

She'd immediately dropped her plans for the day and flown to his rescue, helping him choose a better used car and paying for it up front so the title could be in his name. Two days later, when that car broke down, Mike contacted the dealership, arranged for a pick-up and loaner car, then called Maureen to talk over options. Again, her first response was to take it on as her problem but this time she suffered an anxiety attack which spilled over into resentment that "he couldn't do anything for himself."

When Maureen and I observed her relationship with Mike as a system of interconnected parts, where each element in the system sustained another element that contributed to the whole, she realized that her generosity had not been free of strings. Yes, she wanted him to "grow up" and take care of his own problems, but she also had a fundamental story: "If I don't take care of people, they won't love me." Her unconscious motivation was "I need your appreciation," whereas the message to Mike was, "You can't get along without me."

In actuality, Mike did not lay the whole problem on Maureen. He wanted to discuss options in the first call, and when the second car broke down, it wasn't clear to him that it was his car. Yes, his name was on the title, but she'd paid for everything and sent him off with a smile. Yes, she was angry when he called to tell her it broke down, but would she have been angry if he hadn't called her? Hard for him to know.

Also, they had a history of the same dynamic showing up time after time, so Mike was conditioned to look to Maureen for help, even though he thought less of himself when he couldn't seem to manage on his own.

With my encouragement, Maureen shared with Mike the idea of their relationship as a system, and how they'd both played a part. Together they agreed that Mike was responsible for his own life and Maureen was available if he wanted to bounce around ideas before he made his own decisions.

Maureen did slip into her old pattern a week later when she sent an email asking him to please call because she didn't know if his not contacting her was good news or bad news. This was his response: 

All is well and everything will be great with my car. They're putting in a "new" engine which will have fewer miles than the original and they're going to warranty the whole car. We're cool, Mom. Please get some rest, don't worry, and I will call you on the weekend.

New Perspectives

Understanding your Enneagram personality patterns will certainly enhance your personal effectiveness and spiritual development. This work is even more powerful when explored in the context of your relationships with others.

Changes you make may confuse, or even alarm, your friends and intimates. But when you commit to actions of benefit to both of you, the partnership becomes mutually supportive--which reinforces desired changes and builds greater intimacy.

Exploring your Enneagram subtypes can be an added and important element in illuminating the dynamics of a relationship, as illustrated below with an interaction between two friends.

Sally and Oona, both at Enneagram point Nine, had been good friends and colleagues for more than a decade. Sally's instinctual subtype preference, however, was social and Oona's was one-to-one. They had similar values of honesty and integrity in relationship and shared growing concerns about social and environmental problems. Yet Oona made two criticisms of Sally at a dinner party where several other friends were present. It was New Year's Eve, and Barack Obama had just been elected U.S. President.

When their mutual friend, Betty, expressed concern about possibly losing her government-supported job, Sally responded with a passionate discourse about state politicians and their poor allotment of financial resources. Oona listened for a while, then said, "What does that have to do with Betty's concern about losing her job?"

A while later, Sally said she thought Obama's choices of cabinet members would lead to more of the same problems experienced with the Bush administration, but she was, however, happy the U.S. had progressed enough to elect a Black president. Oona said, "I find it interesting that even though Obama had both a white and a Black parent, people refer to him as "Black." Sally said she meant her comment as a celebration of liberalism, but Oona--in what she consciously considered to be a statement of philosophy, not a personal criticism of Sally--looked toward the ceiling and said, "Well, I find it offensive."

Oona promptly forgot about both of her comments. But Sally agonized over them for two days, worried that she seemed insensitive to Betty's job situation and that she'd expressed her political views in ways that turned people off. She called Oona and explained how terrible she felt. Oona, upon being reminded of what she'd said, worried she'd been unfairly harsh. They agreed to meet for lunch and talk things through.

Each took time to think about and take responsibility for her own behavior, and both were committed to work out their differences. Notice how the changes they envisioned were mutually developmental:

Oona admitted she'd been missing one-to-one time with Sally, because they now usually met with a group of friends. She also said she'd been overwhelmed by all the social and political problems Sally raised because she felt powerless to change anything but had tamped down her feelings instead of talking about them openly.

Sally knew she sometimes talked overlong when impassioned about global concerns, but said this was in part because she didn't always feel heard, because her friends didn't respond with interest or take the kinds of actions she felt were vital. She asked how she might talk about her concerns in ways that invited responsiveness and action.

Sally agreed to stop periodically, give Oona time to assimilate and ask questions, and help her think through what actions she could take so she didn't feel so powerless. She also agreed to more one-on-one time with Oona.

Oona committed to speak up when she felt overwhelmed and, instead of tamping down her panic, to ask for specific actions she could take where they shared mutual concerns.

Notice how, even though both were at Enneagram point Nine, the focus of attention for each was quite different, explained in part by the difference in their instinctual subtype focus--social for Sally, one-to-one for Oona.

Note, also, how their agreements to change were mutually developmental and reinforcing:

By speaking up more directly when overwhelmed, Oona could act against her habitual tendency to tamp things down, while also helping Sally break her pattern of talking so long and so intensely that Oona (and probably others) would screen her out.

Sally could feel appreciated that her passionate social concerns were important to Oona, while giving Oona one-to-one attention by discussing specific actions in Oona's areas of interest.

They practiced this mutually reinforcing approach right away. Oona said she was interested in leadership attributes that could lead to new perspectives on world problems. Sally told Oona about a book that spoke to this interest and brought the book to Oona's house later that afternoon. This became a shared, passionate topic for both of them in their future encounters.

Hands Off

Often when we experience relationship problems we conclude it's the other person who's "touchy," "unreliable," "critical," etc. Operating from this premise, you may unwittingly attempt solutions that reinforce or even exaggerate the perceived problem.

Let's say Anne and Bill have a family business and Anne, a perfectionist, thinks Bill gives employees too much autonomy. 

Anne presses Bill to be more hands-on, questioning him frequently and in detail. Bill doesn't keep her posted on the ways he is hands-on because "She'll just nit-pick anyway." This confirms Anne's belief that Bill isn't paying enough attention to details, which leads her to follow up more frequently. Bill responds by retreating even more, leading Anne to check in even more, and so on. 

Instead, they could reframe the situation as an interaction problem:

• Problems that occur between people are situational difficulties -- both are doing something to maintain the problem.
  
• It's normal and appropriate to resist attempts by another to "fix" us; such so-called resistance is more usefully labeled as a source of energy when released for positive purposes.
• It may seem paradoxical, but going with the other person's energy is much more likely to make a difference than lecturing, advising, or scolding.

This approach requires relationship partners to develop the ability to:

1. focus on observable behaviors in the interaction (vs. only the behavior of the other person),
2. do something to alter the interaction (as opposed to trying to change the other person).

A particularly interesting application of this concept relies on the paradox of going with a behavior in order to change it. Following this premise, Anne could release the positive potential of Bill's management style by saying something such as "I respect your value of trusting our employees to do their jobs well. Let's talk about how we can help them be more autonomous." This is a win-win situation:

• If Bill "resists" Anne's suggestion, he becomes more "hands-on," increasing his oversight of employees and eliminating her basis for criticism.
• If they work out standards that ensure employees do their jobs without frequent follow-up, again there is no longer a basis for Anne's complaint.

For more about this approach, read The Tactics of Change, by Fisch, Weakland, and Segal.

Owning Up

As follow-up to exploring how both people in a relationship contribute to interaction patterns ("Hands Off"), the following exercises will be most useful if both complete and discuss them. Nonetheless, it's possible for even one person to significantly change a relationship if you think through and write down your responses to the following:

First, what is characteristic of you in relationships? 

• Think of a recent situation with your partner or a close friend where your characteristic behavior played out. Run through it mentally from the beginning. 
• Now think of another situation. And another.
• What do these three situations have in common? What do you notice about yourself and intimacy with others?

Second, identify ten things that annoy you about your close friend or partner. For each, explore: 

• What is your reaction to their behavior?
• How do you provoke that behavior?

Next, describe five painful situations that have occurred in your relationship:

• What were the consequences for you? 
• What was your responsibility in each situation?
• What keeps the situation alive for you (what is the pay-off in the present)? Examples are illusion of control, getting a charge from the anger, not having to face your own fear of intimacy, etc.

Finally, describe ten positive characteristics of the other person and the effect of each on your relationship. Reflect on how you might integrate more gratitude into this relationship and into your life.

Romancing the Shadow

"Most intimate relationships have some version of this story: one partner (or both) turns the other into a parental figure . . . We call this downward negative spiral the roller-coaster ride because the lovers get on at the same place, seem to spin out of control, but end up getting off at the same place--and nothing has really changed." (p. 158, Romancing the Shadow by Connie Zweig, PhD and Steve Wolf, PhD)

In a blog post at her web site, Connie Zweig explains what "romancing" the shadow means. Because this deeply unconscious aspect of yourself needs help in coming to awareness, it's necessary to seduce it with attention and questions: "Who are you? What are you trying to tell me? How did you form? What do you need?" 

I've often paired coaching with Jungian shadow work to explore relationships in work, in friendships, and in romantic pairings with clients. Here, I offer insight from my own first marriage at age 22. when I was stuck at Enneagram point Nine, before I had in-depth self-knowledge, but illuminated by what I've learned since.

Later I could see I'd married my father, but I thought I'd found his opposite in my husband, Dave. My father was a military officer and stern disciplinarian, probably mostly at Enneagram point Eight. I always felt an emotional distance from him, though he and my mother were responsible parents and he drove me wherever I needed to go as a teenager. Those rides were agonizing for me because neither of us could think of a word to say to the other.

Dad wore his toughness on the outside, however, so when I met Dave, I fell immediately in love with his sweet, quiet demeanor and our in-depth conversations. He was then at Enneagram point Five, I believe (he's long deceased), and his tendency to hoard emotions eventually began to feel very much like interacting with my father.

Unfortunately, I was young and naive, hadn't yet studied Jungian psychology, and was years away from learning the Enneagram, so I saw Dave as "the problem," having no notion that projections of my own shadow were keeping me from seeing our relationship as an opportunity for consciousness.

In their analysis of one couple cited in Romancing the Shadow, Zweig and Wolf suggested "The couple's parental complexes are shadow-boxing with each other . . . they can put on the brakes only by taking responsibility for their own feelings, romancing their projections, and moving out of the past into present time."

As we do our shadow work, waking up to unconscious drives, we can acknowledge that no one person is "the problem;" both contribute to the interaction dynamics that feed a self-fulfilling downward spiral. We look differently at feeling hooked and--instead of reacting as usual--we romance the shadow, describing to ourselves, our mate, partner, or friend what's happening inside, and asking for space or support or conversation to help us move through it in a way that doesn't perpetuate the cycle.

I don't take these suggestions lightly, nor do I expect anyone else to do so. But what relationship have you ever had that was easy, day after day, year after year? You know the pain of compromise, you know the depression of defeat. Romancing your own shadow will help you engage in the disquieting and lifelong task of being truly open and authentic in relationships:

No more blaming, manipulation, false diplomacy, retreating into melancholy, withholding emotions, casting worst-case scenarios, skating away from personal responsibility, shutting people down, or passive-aggressiveness.

"Oh, is that all?" you must be thinking.

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose

You've no doubt heard the epigram first made public in January 1849 by Jean-Baptiste Alphonse Karr, founder and editor of Les Guêpes:

Plus ça change, plus c'est la même chose.

Usually translated as "the more things change, the more they stay the same," plus ça change refers to what happens when we attempt to resolve problems within the paradigm in which they were created. What does this mean in everyday terms? To borrow again from the French:

On ne fait pas d'omelette sans casser des œufs.

Translation: "You can't make an omelet without breaking eggs." I'm tempted to leave you with these powerful metaphors. But I'll illustrate how plus ça change became the code for a married couple to interrupt an interaction pattern that was frustrating to both of them - to "break the eggs" they'd both been hatching and create a new "omelette."

This had been their pattern: When the husband perceived the wife as "interrupting" in conversation, he would shut down and "pout" (according to the wife). The wife, annoyed that he would blame her instead of speaking up for himself, kept talking while pulling back emotionally. He saw her withdrawing emotionally, wanted to have peace between them, so bypassed his feeling of being ignored and tried to draw physically closer. She felt "schizophrenic" - "He's critical and wants to get closer? Doesn't compute!"

In the past, the pattern had been the opportunity for each to give "feedback" to the other, not realizing that his telling her she interrupted, and her telling him he should speak up if he so desired, fed the plus ça change pattern so that it kept occurring, over and over. When they looked at their interaction systemically and saw how both of them kept it going the way it always had (plus c'est la même chose), they stepped back, let go of blame, and agreed that whoever saw the pattern occurring would simply say, "Plus ça change..."

What's Good Enough?

Several of my clients worked with me to look more closely at their marriages, for a variety of reasons. One couple -- while their marriage was already more than good enough -- wanted some fine-tuning and gave rave reviews of a workshop I recommended with Doctors John and Julie Gottman in Seattle, "The Art and Science of Love." 

With a client who wanted to refresh her marriage, we began exploring "what's good enough?" I learned about this concept from Carolyn Bartlett, who uses it in The Enneagram Field Guide. Initially coined by psychoanalyst D.W. Winnicott, "good enough" describes a nurturing relationship that provides the basic safety, love, mirroring, and containment needed by a developing child. It's also a template for effective therapy. And we can easily extend it to effective partnering in adult relationships.

Interestingly, healthy "containment" is not restrictive. Quite the opposite: the term refers to an emotional, mental, and spiritual space where both partners are available, expansive, and secure; where both feel calm and safe; where each can experience and express perspectives and emotions -- with the expectation of support and comfort, and without fear of judgment or rejection.

Clearly, this definition of "good enough" does not mean compromising or lowering standards. It simply recognizes the fact that no human being and no partnership of any kind is or has to be perfect. And it inspires open communication to make sure each partner's needs are being met.

In "Bad Relationships: Change your Role and the Rules of Engagement," Dr. Tara J. Palmatier quotes Gottman's "Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse:" criticism, contempt, defensiveness, and stonewalling. Palmatier suggests two scenarios that can have "mutually satisfying, long-term relationship outcomes" (the remaining eight are "either 'get out now' or 'live a life of resignation' outcomes"). In response to your concerns, your partner could:

1. Hear what you say, be accountable, respect your feelings, and actively try to change.
2. Hear what you say, be accountable, respect your feelings, communicate which of your behaviors are contributing to the situation, and you both actively try to change.

From a systemic view, I prefer the second scenario, and suggest that you also (1) look together at how the pattern operates that you've created together, and (2) agree on an interesting and inventive way to interrupt the pattern. Michelle Weiner-Davis addresses this in Divorce Busting, especially Chapter 6: "Breaking the Habit: Interrupting Destructive Patterns."

 

The Partnership Path to Self-Knowledge

(From Margaret Frings Keyes' The Enneagram Relationship Workbook)

1. Falling in Love: Infatuation marks the first phase of relationships, when the floodgates of the unconscious are opened and we glimpse a possibility of our own wholeness. We project our unconscious positive images of the opposite sex onto the other person and we feel spiritually and mentally alive, because each sees the other only in terms of desired aspects and traits.
2. Adaptation to Power Roles: Now we begin to divert attention away from our own unacceptable traits, urges, feelings, etc., and project those that are negative onto the partner. We also endow our partner with collective authority, and thus rebel or conform to what our partner expects. The relationship shifts as we create rules, roles, and expectations. To some degree we suppress ourselves for fear of losing the partner. Liveliness and compatibility are reduced as we begin to operate from our defenses. 
3. Darkening Conflict: In this phase our unknown and unconscious aspects demand to be seen. We may become depressed, angry, and/or hurt, and one or both will engage in fantasies of separation, longing to ESCAPE! Positive aspects of life are projected onto the outer world (e.g., new career, new associations, new interests), so now everyone but the partner looks attractive. Our feelings and perceptions about power, betrayal, and abandonment deepen as our unconscious issues are reflected in even more negative projections onto the partner. Transformation depends entirely on our conscious involvement in our own drama, the decision to focus on our own need to change. Depending on our level of consciousness, we can:
   • Refuse to recognize and deal with differences (and later repeat the problem with someone else). 
   • Try to control the partner by anger, disapproval, withdrawal, or pouting. 
   • Experiment with separation (this can be positive if the goal is to achieve consciousness and choice, but remember that eventually even our work on ourselves will have to be completed in relationship). 
   • Begin the true work to integrate the Shadow. Although uneasy and ambivalent about it, we move our attention away from how we and our partner should be and toward who we and our partner are. 
4. Remembering Self and Completion in Union: If we have the courage to deepen our own self-awareness and take personal responsibility for the relationship, we accept and integrate parts of ourselves that we have not wanted to know and see. We examine how our partner has characteristics that we have been unwilling to acknowledge in ourselves. We feel the pain that results from knowing ourselves, as we recall not only of the pain done to us, but also the pain we have created. Our gifts and strengths are heightened as we re-own our Self, instead of reacting solely to our partner. We develop the ability to observe our interactions without judgment and see our prejudices as distortions. Our love becomes based in reality, and the well-being of the other becomes essential to our own as we forgive our partner, our parents, and ourselves.

Playing a Bigger Game

Remember Games People Play? The relationship games described by Eric Berne are so familiar from our own interactions, it's relatively easy to notice when someone else plays them. In truth, though, if you're in a game, you're a player, too. When we view relationship interactions as systems, we can see how all players contribute to the pattern.

The popular "Why don't you--yes, but" game is described in 50 Psychology Classics as beginning "when someone states a problem in their life, and another person responds by offering constructive suggestions on how to solve it. The subject says 'Yes, but...' and proceeds to find issue with the solutions. In Adult mode we would examine and probably take on board a solution, but this is not the purpose of the exchange. It allows the subject to gain sympathy from others in their inadequacy to meet the situation (Child mode). The problem solvers, in turn, get the opportunity to play wise Parent."

The Parent, Adult, Child references are from Transactional Analysis, popular since the sixties and still highly relevant.


Now look again at the players in "Why don't you--yes, but." Either party can start the game. The problem solver might be in the role of wise Parent, or might be playing parent, period, whether reacting to the other or initiating advice. How many times have you described a situation to a friend, co-worker, or life partner where you wanted a listener or someone to brainstorm with as you talked it through, only to have the other person jump in and tell you what you should do about it?
 
When you re-read the above example of "yes, but..." notice the assumption that one player (the "Child" in this case) creates the pattern, and the "wise" Parent is the blameless bystander. Looking at our interaction patterns this way promotes blaming and judgment. Yes, we all play games, and yes, sometimes one party is less emotionally healthy than the other, but by definition an interaction takes two people.
 
Instead of judging the interaction games in your relationships as someone else's fault, notice how a pattern is perpetuated, by either or both of you, and look for inventive ways to interrupt the pattern. If asked for your opinion by someone who's typically responded with "yes, but," for example, say "I'm not sure what the best thing would be for you," or "What have you considered?" or "What do you think might work?"
 
And, of course, pay close attention to the games you initiate. They wouldn't be games unless both people wanted to play.

Parenting From the Inside Out

Implicit mental models that cast shadows on our own decisions and the stories we tell about our lives can be made explicit through focused self-reflection. We are active shapers of our own construction of reality. (Siegel and Hartzell, Parenting From the Inside Out). 

If you're reading this blog post, you probably want to be a good parent to your young children or perhaps have issues with adult children you'd like to resolve. One way to view these issues is through the lens of attachment theory.

Childhood Attachment	Adult Attachment
Secure Distress when mother leaves Greets mother when she returns	Secure Comfortable in relationships Able to seek support from partner
Avoidant Does not seek mother when she returns Focuses on environment	Dismissing Greater sense of autonomy Tends to cut self off emotionally from partner
Ambivalent/Resistant Very upset at departure Explores very little	Preoccupied Fears rejection from partner Strong desire to maintain closeness

A child's security of attachment is strongly connected to parents' understanding of their own early life experience. Whether you had good parenting, good enough parenting, or even traumatic parenting, making sense of your childhood can lead to healthy relationships with your children. The universal cure-all in any personal growth approach is to develop nonjudgmental self-awareness -- in this case, mindfulness of your own childhood dynamics and consequent worldview.

Siegel and Hartzell introduced the concept of mind-sight, the ability to perceive the minds of others as well as our own. Resolving issues with your children means mindfulness about your own personality and mind-sight about your child's personality. Research further indicates that intention, when followed by changes in behavior, can change how our brains function. I'm particularly heartened to know this can be done backwards. No matter how old you or your children are, you can re-live your own childhood and your child's, affecting brain chemistry in a way that heals long-held wounds. 

All personality styles have strengths and challenges as parents, whether you had a secure or insecure attachment when growing up. Barbara Whiteside, in "Seeing Your Child" (September 2009 Enneagram Monthly), gave the example of a mother at Enneagram point Three who "had a very easy time with her point Seven daughter because they both had assertive energy and enjoyed lots of activity (but) struggled in understanding her point Four daughter. . . ."

Many of you with grown children will believe you could have done a better job as a young parent. However, thinking If only I'd known then what I know now will be wishful thinking unless what you know is based on deep self-reflection about your own personality style along with mind-sight about your child's, especially if very different. This is a potent exercise recommended by Siegel and Hartzell:

1. Think of an experience from your childhood when your reality was denied. How did you feel?
2. Think of a time when you and your child had a different reaction to the same experience. Now try to see the events from your child's point of view.

When my daughter's personality was barely forming, I naively assumed she would be like me. This was long before I learned about the Enneagram, and I had little capability as a young point Nine mother to be present to a daughter at point Eight. My poem "Swamp Magic" likens my daughter as a baby to a tadpole, sleeping face-down with knees bent outward, "still swimming in the amnion," ending with these lines:

What could we talk about?
I was brought up to behave,
bewildered by a frog princess
who could be heard for miles.
A ring-tongued, Mohawked 
Tarot reader, a hefty bike babe,
she teaches me computer skills,
and I accommodate the real.

As do all families, we had good times and bad times over the years, but I tended to forget the bad times and reacted defensively when my daughter's recollections were different from mine. then she decided I'd never see the world through her eyes and we became politely estranged. I labeled this as her problem until I finally dropped my defenses and invited her to join me with a mother/daughter therapist duo. Only then did I develop retrospective mind-sight about my daughter.

Among many insights was accepting the reality of myself as an unaware young mother. I could see I'd shown little of point Nine's healthy attributes (I encourage her differences from me and we co-create a playful environment), was mostly average (I see myself as nobody special but see my child as idealized. . . not the actual person), and to some degree unhealthy (She needs my full presence, and she doesn't have it). Because of my young self's lack of awareness, my remoteness and blindness to the significant differences between us, I truly did not know who my daughter was.

When we first started therapy together, I knew no words would convince her I could be authentically present to her worldview, and I'd only gain her trust by hearing and acknowledging what her childhood was like for her, not what I wanted it to be. During our second session, she was beginning to accept that maybe I'd changed. Then, in a long phone conversation outside therapy she said, true to her personality style, "It's clear you've worked your ass off, Mom." 

Affirming that both of us had matured significantly, we joked about the Work Your Ass Off School of Coaching, a playfulness long missing from our relationship. I hope my story, and Parenting From the Inside Out, will help you get your own you-know-what in gear.

Making sense of life can free parents from patterns of the past that have imprisoned them in the present. By deepening our ability to understand our own emotional experience, we are better able to relate empathically with our children and promote their self-understanding and healthy development (Siegel & Hartzell, Parenting From the Inside Out).