Using "clean language"

As Murphy’s Laws state, things eventually go pear-shaped – “If anything can go wrong, invariably it will". There will be times when our partner, colleague, friend is enduring real pain, is feeling greatly stressed. Their inner feelings may well be contorted, complex, even incoherent. What is our role now? How can language and listening help? Sometimes our friends will be struggling to express themselves, they may be using metaphors and imagery that is almost meaningless to us:

  • "It’s like hitting your head against a wall"
  • "I can’t see any light at the end of the tunnel"
  • "I’m drowning"
  • "I can’t go on"

Most of us use these metaphors as implicit invitations to jump into the debate with often well–intentioned, but usually counter–productive and confusing "help". We sense the man or woman needs support, so we rush to give it. But, as with all the facets of "listening" we have discussed so far, and here more importantly than most, we actually do not know precisely what is meant by "I’m drowning", except that we can hopefully rule out the literal meaning. Here, above all, is the moment to allow time, space and silence for the speaker to express themselves gradually with more and more clarity. Here, above all, is the moment to clean all our own thinking and interpretations from our minds, and simply to hang in there with them.

The intention of "clean language" is to take focussing on the speaker to its logical conclusion (Metaphors in Mind" Lawley & Tompkins: The Developing Co. 2000).  Faced with severe stress, we will no longer be interested in learning for ourselves, but purely focussed on the speaker learning for themselves. How do we do this? As far as possible, we use the client’s own language, pace our breathing and voice sound to match theirs, and act as an empathetic mirror. It may even be that we hardly need to say anything; an encouraging nod of the head, allowing a pause to develop in a sympathetic way, may give them the unthreatening space to think their way to a solution.

I worked for several years with a wonderfully empathetic lady. Sometimes as I wrestled with a complex problem, she would seem to do nothing but nod, smile, make encouraging sounds and then, like a flash of light, I would have found a solution. When I have discussed this with her, she has agreed that sometimes she did not know what I was thinking about, but she knew she was helping.

Let me give an example. The Head of Communication at a client had, unbeknown to me, been systematically abused by her stepfather as a child. She had spent the last two years working for a bullying micro–manager of a CEO. He had been recently replaced and I was helping the new man and his team find its feet. The new CEO was unsure of her ability to handle her responsibilities, and asked me to see her.

When she came into the room she was highly stressed. Her eyes darted about, she licked her lips, her hand was hot and slightly damp, she was taking fast shallow breaths – though her own office was just down the hallway.

"Jo" I smiled at her "I’ve been so looking forward to seeing you." She stood there, like someone caught in the headlights.

"Can I get you a drink – coffee, tea, water?"

She shook her head looking down at the ground.

"No, water, please" . Her first words were quite soft and she paused between them. I slowed my own speaking and dropped my voice.

"And so, how are you feeling, now" very quiet, slow speaking. I then left the pause alone, smiled gently, tilted my head "Hm?"

After a moment she said: "I’m not sure I’m cut out for this….."

Again I waited for a second, not reassuring her, as I wanted to, nor assuming any particular meaning, as I also wanted to.

"And you’re not sure you’re cut out for….?"

"I feel I’ve let everyone down."

"And in what way "let down"?

"It’s happened before, I get confused, I can’t stand up for myself, I let myself down" .

"And it’s happened before……"?

At this point I have no idea what is worrying her so much. I can see and sense that she is reliving internally a crisis that is very real for her. In the pause I make a mistake, I try to help her find the meaning by anticipating it.

"You think you may not be up to the job?"

She looks at me in amazement. I have almost broken the empathy between us.

"No, no, nothing like that – it’s not that, it’s what I’m about, what I’m failing to do and be."

I’ve learned my lesson. I just lean forward, and say nothing. She is back inside her own head. After a second or so she too leans forward. "It’s so difficult to talk about it. Just what it’s been like. No–one else wants to listen. You are the first."

Our conversation goes on like this for about five minutes. Her thinking aloud – me just playing back key words, nodding, pacing her,

watching and sharing her feelings. I am giving her as much intense and unconditional support as I can. I am not trying to move her along, I’m just being there for her.

All of a sudden she looks at me, gives me a lovely smile: "Can I give you a hug?" she says.

"I’d love it".

"You’re the first man I’ve been able to talk to". Tears are rolling down her cheeks, but she is looking relaxed and happy for the first time.

"You must think I’m very silly," she says, "what are you thinking?"

"I’m thinking you look happy and more relaxed, and I was wondering if you’d like to have lunch with me".

I did not know what she had been thinking. We were both drained from the experience. We needed to have a break, walk across the garden to the local Italian, breathe a little. She would want to talk again, but in her time. But for the moment it was a wonderful feeling – we had found a relationship, she had trusted me, and somewhere she had found a new resolve and strength.

Let’s look at the approach , and at the use clean language. First of all I had watched her physical reactions very carefully. Then I had mirrored the pace, tone and volume of her voice. I had been there, but not tried to butt in, lead, take over in any way – except for my mistake. That, by the way, was particularly incompetent on my part. I had forgotten her, felt the need to push things along and to get back to my original agenda. I might just as well have said.

"Come on, pull yourself together, I’m sure you can do the job. I know it’s stressful. Let’s talk about your departmental plan…."

And where would that have got us? In all probability we would have covered the agenda, but we would not have built trust. The apparent gain would have only been superficial. There would have been no lasting basis for helping her to fly. We were able to deal with her departmental plan quickly and easily later that day anyway.

It is not particularly difficult completing most management tasks, filling in a planning form, doing some research, or organising a budget. As we have been describing, things go pear–shaped, not because these tasks are difficult, but because we have inner fears that we feel we cannot share with others. There is no more valuable moment for leaders than when they take the opportunity to allow a colleague to be vulnerable, and to help them through the experience.

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