Critical Judgment

One of the most valuable aspects of intimacy is the willingness (and courage) of your partner to illuminate one's character defects. Ma'ikwe has been working with me lately about how critical I am, making it clear how worn down she feels being in its corrosive presence. (It's not that I'm like that all the time, or even most of the time; yet I'm like that often enough to be an exhausting pattern.)

As you might imagine, the worst dynamic for her is when I'm directing this negativity toward her. However, she's also tired of witnessing my picking apart others, and has been urging me to be both more gracious in my comments and more mindful about when to give criticism.

(While Ma'ikwe appreciates that I'm not one to indulge in false compliments, or to sugarcoat feedback to the point where you have to shift through layers of cotton candy to uncover the substantive nugget buried in the verbiage, her main concern is my tendency toward the caustic; not my willingness to speak up, or my ability to be incisive.)

Like most people, she has some of this in her as well, and I'm nervous about the possibility of my lashing back at her if she points out my doing it at a time when I feel she's giving as good as she's getting. While it wouldn't be fair that I be held to a standard that she is exempt from, she's not asking for that. I just don't trust that the exchange would be constructive (that my pointing out her criticality will come across as deflection, or anything more than another example of my negativity).

Ma'ikwe thinks that I'm mostly unconscious about how much I'm negative, and I suspect she's right. That is, we both agree that I probably drift into being critical without awareness, and she's offered to let me know when she thinks it's happening, with the idea that increased awareness will help me get a handle on it. We've agreed that she can simply say "Ouch!" in those moments as a shorthand signal. Unless I can see her fingers pinched in a door jamb (suggesting that the pain she's feeling may not be caused by me), I'll know that she's having a reaction to my dumping.

To be clear, Ma'ikwe isn't asking me to forego critical judgment; she's asking me to use better judgment about when to be critical. There are definitely times when critical comments are in order (three obvious examples are: a) when they are requested; b) when evaluating proposals; or c) when I'm in a teacher relationship and am correcting ineffective or inappropriate student choices). Ma'ikwe is focusing on my tendency to be critical as one of the ways I share what's going on for me—without her (or anyone else) having asked for that analysis. What I see as transparency (opening up about what I'm chewing on, or what's chewing on me), she experiences as an uninvited dip in an acid bath.

At this point I've been soaking in Ma'ikwe's comments for six days and it's led to considerable introspection, along with some new wrinkles about how to proceed:

1. I'm trying to be more conscious before speaking, screening what's queuing up in my mouth for nastiness. On the whole, this deliberateness has led to my speaking less. While that wasn't Ma'ikwe's intention (at least I don't think it was), it appears that the world is getting along just fine with fewer pearls dribbling from my lips, and it's humbling how little of what occurs to me to say is actually worth voicing, once I reflect on it.

While all of this adds up to a less caustic auditory environment, what's going on inside Laird's head (you might ask), where the printing presses of my mind keep cranking out manifestos, even if the town crier no longer reads them aloud? Good question. While it's early days, and I don't know yet whether I'll be able to transubstantiate my stomach acid into something that will aid others in digesting my comments without experiencing dyspepsia, I see hope.

2. I can still process critical thoughts, even if they haven't been voiced. While talking things out is part of my normal routine, I can journal instead, talk to myself on solitary walks, or meditate. Wrangling with my wife (and close friends) is not my only option.

3. If I'm having a reaction to something (which is far and away the mostly likely reason I'm chewing on it) I have the option to report on the reaction, rather than launching into an attack. This is an important distinction and almost always works better (if I can only remember to do it). Here's how it might look—based on a not-so-pleasant exchange Ma'ikwe and I had on Friday:

Option A (the unmindful bull-in-a-china-shop approach): "Why are you asking me to create a new list without first checking to see what's been covered by the first one I gave you weeks ago?" [Don't miss the pained expression on my face as you read the script.]

Option B (where I report first on my emotional state): "I notice I'm having a reaction to this request. I'm feeling irritated and disrespected that you're asking me to do redo work that I think was mostly already sent to you."

While these two statements mostly convey the same thing, Option B has a much better chance of not starting a border dispute. If you're not sure this would make a difference, just ask Ma'ikwe.

The Fine Line Bteween Wanting to Speak and Needing to Speak

Last week I was in Seattle attending the national cohousing conference on the campus of the University of Washington. Because my partner (Ma'ikwe) and I were running the conference bookstore, we rented a car and drove over 2000 miles each way. (The compact car was so compacted that all we could sight through the rear-view mirror was a wall of boxes and the passenger seat didn't recline more than a couple inches—I mean that car was full.)

In addition to seeing a lot of Wyoming and Montana (which we found to be exceptionally pretty following a wet spring) that meant we were in the car for three days outbound and three days inbound. At the start of the return trip last Tuesday Ma'ikwe and I had an important exchange. It began with Ma'ikwe sharing reflections about a conversation she had with a mutual friend over the weekend. Though I hadn't been present for the conversation, I had long-term observations about how I saw this person in relation to group dynamics and jumped in to share them (in case you ever wondered what professional facilitators talk about when they're alone, it's just as bad as you might have imagined). Ma'ikwe didnt have a good reaction to that and the conversation stalled.

There were a number of factors that contributed to the derailment, and I had all the way from Port Townsend WA to Rutledge MO to sort them out.

1. Ma'ikwe hadn't asked for my opinion
The fact that I felt my comments were both substnative and germane didn't really matter. Ma'ikwe felt that I had hijacked the conversation, and what might have been an interesting exploration became stillborn. As a sat with this across eastern Washington and southern Montana, I saw how it paralleled other situations, and I could see my unhelpful pattern of occasionally being too eager to grab the mic, competing for air space.

2. I'm too critical of others
Perhaps worse than the faux pas of offering unsolicited opinions, my views are often critical. Where Ma'ikwe wanted to celebrate her friend's exploration of what she's doing with her life, I had launched into an unkind analysis. Ma'ikwe was irritated that I had shifted the energy, and questioned my ability to allow people to grow. Ouch! When I asked if she'd rather I changed my opinion or didn't express it, she wasn't sure.

As it happened, the previous night we had been in a dinner table conversation with others and Ma'ikwe didn't like how I had been critical of other process professionals when their names had surfaced in the discussion. So her reaction to my criticality had been building for a while, and Ma'ikwe—to her credit—felt compelled to voice her reaction.

As this feedback incubated in me I went through a sequence of defensiveness, sulking, and then acceptance. Ma'ikwe had the grace to let me sort through this on my own, and I've gradually come to appreciate that there are really very few times when I need to speak—especially when I'm critical of others. The world's mostly doing fine without the steady insertion of my gratuitous "wisdom."

3. Not needing equal air time
As part of my journey to accept this feedback, I went through a phase of righteousness about how poorly I think others tend to use air time in groups (regardless of whether it's formal meetings or informal gatherings). When I caught myslef indulging in my penchant for criticality (it was ony a matter of time before I collided with the obvious), I smiled and reminded myself that life is not about how good you look; it's how well you see the opportunities for enjoyment, connection, and surprise. It really doesn't have anything to do with air time at all.

• • •

The fundamental truth in this exchange with Ma'ikwe was that I was irritating my partner and she was letting me know it—which I had asked her to do. While it probably took me about 1000 miles to sort it all out, I finally arrived at a place where it was OK. While this place is unfortunately not marked on road maps (with suggestive names, such as Enlightenment WY, Deep Listening MT, or New Insight NE), the good news is that it can be found—even though you may have to burn a little ego and retread some ideas to get there.