1: Author Joseph Grenny had been married for just a few years when his travel schedule became hectic.
He and his wife, Celia, had two young toddlers, and she served as the sole parent when Joseph was on the road.
One evening, he arrived home from a long trip, Joseph and his co-authors write in their classic book Crucial Conversations: Tools for Talking When Stakes are High.
“Celia was sitting on the couch reading,” he recalls. “I was about to say hello when the phone rang. I had two immediate thoughts: (1) Answer the phone; it could be an international emergency that only I can solve. (2) Don’t answer the phone! The love of my life would like time with me.”
Joseph knew what he should do. But that’s not what he did.
Instead, he answered the phone. It was one of his business partners, and they began a conversation.
“At that moment, I felt a burning sensation in the middle of my back,” he remembers. “I looked around to find the source of it, and there was Celia across the room, staring a hole in the middle of my back. She wore a terrifying, angry glare.”
Joseph looked at her for a moment, rolled his eyes, and turned away.
“I heard her book slam shut, and she stomped out of the room. I looked over at her as she passed and shook my head condescendingly,” he writes.
How was our Crucial Conversations author doing in this crucial conversation?
“I could not have done worse!” he says.
What did Joseph want most when he arrived home after being away all week?
“Time with the love of his life,” the authors write.
“And when he walked into the house, guess what Celia wanted most? Time with the love of her life.”
The irony here? They both acted in ways that got them the opposite of what they really wanted.
2: So, what happened here and why?
Yesterday, we looked at how the stories we tell ourselves create our emotions.
In between what happens to you and how you react, you tell yourself a story.
These stories create your reality. “In the moment, both Joseph and Cecilia believed their stories were accurate,” the authors explain.
“When Joseph felt the burning sensation and observed Celia’s expression,” they write, “he told himself that Celia was unappreciative. She was judgmental. She was trying to control him.”
He thought to himself, “I’ve been working hard all week, and this is the treatment I get!”
The story in Joseph’s head made him feel defensive and resentful. Which is why he rolled his eyes.
What happened next? Celia closed her book loudly and stormed out of the room.
Joseph believes his story is true: “Celia is judging me. And she is being unappreciative!”
What’s missing? His part in the story.
What story did Celia tell herself when Joseph answered the phone and then rolled his eyes? That he was selfish and unappreciative. Which made her angry.
“He was a full partner in the downward spiral,” the authors note.
The unlocking move? Learning to examine your role in the story you are telling yourself.
Why? “Because it’s a necessary step on the path toward what you really want,” they write.
3: This is not easy, the authors warn us. Learning to expose, examine, and improve your story takes hard work.
Doing so requires “focus, concentration, and humility,” they write. “Many readers make it halfway through this section and shout at the book something akin to, ‘Why do I have to do all this #^&(@ work?!’”
But what they are really saying is: “Why not live the simple life of blaming others for causing my emotions?”
Do you have to do this work? Of course not. You only have to do it if you want different results.
Because different results require different emotions. Which means you have to pay attention to and ultimately change the stories you are telling yourself.
“Mastering our stories isn’t about letting someone off the hook for bad behavior,” the authors point out. “Instead, it is the first step toward addressing that behavior through dialogue.”
Mastering the stories we tell ourselves allows us to “take ownership of the emotional energy we bring to the conversation,” they write. “And when we do that, we begin to change the conversation.”
The other option is to defend the story you are telling yourself. To believe that your story is an accurate reflection of reality.
“The reality came first, and their story merely captured it,” you say.
“Maybe. But when you dig deeper, it is not uncommon to find that the story itself created the reality. Or at least contributed to it.”
This is the “downward spiral” you want to avoid.
More tomorrow!
Reflection: Is there a difficult relationship or conversation in my life where I am focusing entirely on the other person’s role while ignoring my own contribution to the situation?
Action: The next time I feel hurt, frustrated, or defensive, pause and ask: “What story am I telling myself? And what is my role in creating or sustaining this situation?”
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