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What About Love? (and Conflict Management Training)
Last week I attended a work-place training entitled “Conflict Management–Dealing with Difficult Conversations in the Workplace.” I do not do much training at work; the several hours a week I spend doing professional reading generally satisfies the needs of my position. When the offer for this two-day training came into my inbox, I decided that it might be useful. I am responsible for a project that involves several different offices in multiple government agencies all of which have perceived differences in agendas and jurisdiction and real differences in expertise and personality. I am also about to get another new supervisor, and people in my division have been edgy.
The training, which had about 15 attendees even though it was the Tuesday and Wednesday before Thanksgiving started simply enough. We all identified ourselves by name and job function and where in the agency we worked and then took the Thomas-Kilmann Conflict Mode Instrument, which helps give a broad general idea of how one typically reacts in situations that involve conflict. All pretty straightforward workplace training stuff. Then the facilitator suggested that most conflict between people (and within ourselves) arises when our feelings of worthiness are or are perceived to be threatened. My ears perked up. “Anavamala,” I thought. It’s just like what the tantric philosophers teach us, that the unreal cloak of unworthiness is what leads to suffering and discord.
The workshop continued. We did some roleplaying and engaged in discussion to consider how we can better lead the best out of each other and ourselves, whatever type of negotiator we are. It was interesting to see how this fairly diverse group of workers — young, old, experienced, brand new workers of varying levels of seniority in the agency — were able to be engaged and brought together in exploring these issues, but nothing was particularly surprising. It was almost time to break for lunch on the first day, when the facilitator asked, and then let drop the question, without discussion or seeking a response, “what about love?”
“What about love, indeed?” I thought. That’s a word we do not hear in the workplace unless it is in an interview and someone claims to love their work, or it’s idle conversation and someone declares that he or she loves a sports team or a restaurant. The next morning I commented privately to the facilitator that I thought it a great question, but was not surprised, given the context, that he had not discussed it further. He said that he would bring it up more, and he did. He suggested that when we love, we are more willing to allow, respect, and listen to differences of opinion; when we love, we are also more motivated to resolve conflict in a way that serves best those with whom we are in conflict. This teaching made sense for most of the participants with regard to conflicts with friends and family, but it was harder for them to see in the context of the workplace because they did not think of love (as this society has come to classify it) as something that is part of the workplace.
How can we bring love into our non-intimate relationships (although I would argue that in some ways, the workplace is very much an intimate relationship as it so deeply relates both to our sense of purpose and to our survival)? The tantric teachings suggest that there is a universal ground to all being, one aspect of which is, in essence, love (prem). When we recognize that we are all made of the same stuff and that an aspect of the universal is love itself, then we are invited to see the unity in diversity and to respond in the highest in the face of difficulty or challenge. (Quakers similarly teach us to recognize the light or good in every being and to treat all as divine). Truly loving universally does not necessarily come naturally and can be a challenging and advanced practice , but it has been my experience that it is a practice that is worthy of all our relationships, including those in the workplace. It may be too much to ask us to like our co-workers, but seeking to recognize that they are worthy of love can go a long way to making our work day a brighter, more productive, more effective, and more compassionate place.
- Art and Culture | Asana, Pranayama, and Yoga Practice | Community and Family | Food for the Body | Food for the Mind (Yoga Philosophy, etc)
Rosa’s Pizza (and a Planned Trip to India)
Rosa’s Pizza is on the Long Island Railroad level of Penn Station. To my best recollection, it has been there since before I started taking the LIRR regularly in the early 1970s, and I still go there occasionally when I connect through Penn Station to visit my parents a few times a year. Rosa’s makes an eggplant slice that tastes like eggplant parmigiana on decent pizza crust. Yup, it’s got cow dairy and gluten and lots of fat, but it is one of those foods that is so strongly associated with both place and belonging for me that it gives me great delight to eat it once or twice a year.
When I was meditating yesterday morning, I had a vision of myself jet-lagged and groggy from landing in JFK and taking the train from the airport to Penn Station to head home after two and a half weeks of a study tour led by Professor Douglas Brooks of Tamil Nadu (including Chidambaram), which I am planning to do at the winter holidays. In this meditation moment, I was ecstatically happy to be eating an eggplant slice from Rosa’s after taking my seat on Amtrak. I enjoyed the moment and then let go of this reverie to slip deeper into meditation.
At work, I told a friend of mine about this vision. He said that was not the right approach to a trip to India — shouldn’t I be eagerly anticipating what I would experience in India itself? I begged to differ. The excitement and anticipation of what I will see and experience and learn is a given. It was sweet to have pierce my meditation how happy I will be to return home. It helps me remember that for all the ups and downs of my choices, I am comfortable enough with them to be finding meditative bliss in the idea of something that is part of “home.”
- Art and Culture | Asana, Pranayama, and Yoga Practice | Community and Family | Food for the Body | Food for the Mind (Yoga Philosophy, etc) | Gardening
Sunchokes (and Anusara “first principle”) (a bit out of date, but not really)
I realize that this blog entry was in my drafts page; I never hit the publish button. As I ponder the few intervening weeks of snow (in some ways it feels as if time just stopped, except for the work that piled up and the lengthening of the light of day), I treat this as a reminder to myself to come back to “first principle” to respond with the most light — even in this unusually harsh winter:
On my way to Friends Meeting yesterday, I stopped at the Dupont Circle Fresh Farm Market yesterday to buy whatever was fresh. When I got in line with a daikon radish, a bunch of turnips, and a couple of leeks, I noticed the way the woman in front of me in line was holding her selection: sunchokes. Her hands were held as if she had just received prasad — the offering sometimes made after a puja so that the fruits of worship may actually be tasted and injested, incorporated with our senses and our whole bodies into our being. “Your hands and those sunchokes are so beautiful,” I said, “may I take a picture and use it for my blog?” “Sure,” she replied, “and shifted her hands a little so that it would be easier for me to frame the picture.” We talked while we waited in line about potential ways to cook sunchokes and how happy we were that the farmers (these particular farmers’ must be incredibly good at working with cold frames) were out all year.
Seeing this offering of the earth itself, the farmers who tended the earth and grew the vegetables, the workers who made and repaired the vehicles that enabled the food to be brought into the city, the city and neighborhood for allowing the market to block off a street, the shoppers for supporting it, brought me back to my contemplations this week of what “first principle” means to me. I mentioned in an earlier post that my focus for winter classes would be Anusara sequencing principles. No matter what else we are doing or focusing on, it always starts with “first principle.” The “first principle” is what we call in Anusara “opening to grace.” For me, a large part of “opening to grace” is a recognition that all the nourishment we receive is a gift. When we practice such a recognition, then we practice receptivity, openness, gratitude, courtesy, respect, delicacy, and reciprocal desire to serve and make offering. How could one mindfully receive nourishment such as this fresh, beautiful food on a bitterly cold winter day, and not want to celebrate it by giving thanks, nurturing the earth, supporting the farmers and the market, learning how to prepare it as tasty and healthful as possible, and share it and other things with those around us?




