Oops, Ouch and calling a man in

A simple tool to turn conflict into connection

Him: “I judge you avoid emotional connection because you don't hold eye contact”

Me: “Ouch… I'm autistic and eye contact is very intense for me”

The Mankind Project

I spent this past weekend on Staff Training with The Mankind Project (MKP). It was an uplifting and beautiful couple of days.

The official purpose of the weekend was to learn more about how to facilitate MKP's New Warrior Training Adventure - a modern male initiation weekend, and a powerful experience for those that step up to it.

A lot happens on the Training Adventure. I’ve been through it as an initiate and returned as a staff man twice. This Staff Training was designed to help us learn about the detail of how it works.

We covered a lot of practical stuff that was important, but the impact was far deeper than just learning how to deliver training.

What MKP do brilliantly is get you looking at yourself with extraordinary depth. The deep personal work we did on this weekend was eye-opening.

There’s a lot that has to be in place to make deep personal work safe for people.

One concept that makes it possible is the idea of a ‘container’. A container is a temporary micro-community of people with a shared understanding and trust.

Building strong containers.

A strong container has no hidden charges between people. There is a common purpose and deep trust. Every member is committed to supporting every other member.

That's critical when we are inviting a man to share his deepest hidden truths. To be open and vulnerable. To cry. To shout. To dance. To express all his emotions fully and look at what lies beneath them.

Feedback is also a critical element. We ask for feedback and offer it freely. An honest and direct statement of our judgements & observations.

These environments can be uncomfortable.

The strength of the container is a function of trust.

The necessary levels of trust only come when there is no hidden conflict or charge between the men. We call this getting “clear” with each other. That’s one of the reasons why this blog is called The Clear Man.

A charge between two people can arise for many reasons. Maybe someone who hasn't kept a promise. A boundary that was crossed. A stray comment that landed badly.

On this weekend I learnt a new way to address those stray comments. Often they are caused by unconscious prejudice that causes clumsy language, and words can hurt.

The process is called Oops / Ouch.

Oops / Ouch

The idea is simple. If someone says something that lands badly with you, you say “Ouch”. That lets them know that they may have had an unintended impact. Or, if you notice something you've said, you say “Oops”.

Those gentle flags enable a calm, clear conversation about what was said.

Key to this is the energy behind the “Ouch”. The Ouch must be an offer to the speaker; an invitation to learn. It must come from a calm, generous place.

The idea is to call the man in, not to call him out.

The alternative is dangerous. It comes from a place of victim, of anger. An accusation more than an invite. Usually, that doesn't serve to help either person.

A story from this past weekend

It was Sunday afternoon. We were running a “hot seat” process. I was in the seat. Eight men were in a horseshoe looking at me, ready to help me do my work.

This wasn’t even a process from the Training Adventure. At this point we were just maximising the power of the container we’d spent 48 hours in.

I invited the eight men to share what they judged to be my darkest shadows. The things I hide, repress, and deny. Destructive behaviours I may not be consciously aware of. My shame that I don't want the world to see.

Pretty brutal process, right?!

This is why strong, safe, containers are so important.

For two minutes they shared what they saw. All I said was ‘thank you’ each time.

Towards the end of the process a man said to me “I judge you avoid emotional connection because you don't maintain eye contact”

This landed badly with me. It brought up some anger and fear of rejection. This was a man I admired.

All I could say was ‘Thank You’. Then I sat with the feelings for a bit.

When the process was finished I went to speak to him. I said “I've got an Ouch. There's something you may not be aware of and I judge you may benefit from discussing it, if you're open to that?”

He was open to that conversation.

I explained about my recent realisation that I'm autistic. How one of the ways that shows up is in challenges with holding eye contact. It's an intense, draining experience for me. These weekends have a lot of eye contact, and I’ve found I need to be careful with how it impacts my energy levels.

He reflected on what I said and identified a potential blind spot he has. He was able to say “Oops”.

This a huge change for me. In the past I might have been left stewing for hours or days. This time the conflict was resolved in minutes.

Even more, our relationship was tighter afterwards. Because I’d called him in, to see if there was something he wanted to learn, rather than calling him out. I’d reconnected to help, not accuse.

The more I go through these processes the more I feel able to step forward and have these types of conversations. Every time I’ve taken that risk it’s had a positive outcome. The Oops / Ouch approach is one way to make those risks less risky.

Have you had an “Ouch” recently, or an “Oops”?

Is there an opportunity to calmly call the other person in, and use it to build connection?

Deri.

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A Ritual to Read to Each Other

By William E. Stafford

If you don't know the kind of person I am
and I don't know the kind of person you are
a pattern that others made may prevail in the world
and following the wrong god home we may miss our star.

For there is many a small betrayal in the mind,
a shrug that lets the fragile sequence break
sending with shouts the horrible errors of childhood
storming out to play through the broken dike.

And as elephants parade holding each elephant's tail,
but if one wanders the circus won't find the park,
I call it cruel and maybe the root of all cruelty
to know what occurs but not recognize the fact.

And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,
a remote important region in all who talk:
though we could fool each other, we should consider—
lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give — yes or no, or maybe —
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.