“Maps are the most important documents in human history. They give us the tools to store and exchange knowledge about space and place.”
-Dr. Kirk Goldsberry
The idea that maps are crucial for understanding our world is a central theme of Brené Brown’s latest book, Atlas of the Heart. But instead of mapping physical reality, Brown is focused on mapping our internal reality.
Early in the book, she points to the curriculum she first introduced fifteen years ago. It is based on shame resilience research she conducted where participants were asked to “list all of the emotions that they could recognize and name them as they were experiencing them.”
After 5 years and more than seven thousand participants, they found the average number of emotions named was three — happy, sad, and angry.
This highlights the central theme of the book.
Language is our portal to meaning-making, connection, healing, learning, and self-awareness. Having access to the right words can open up entire universes.
Imagine trying to communicate with a doctor about belly pain. Now imagine we don’t have words like abdomen, stomach, and intestines to better pinpoint the location of the pain. Suppose we also don’t have words to better describe the pain itself, like sharp, dull, or throbbing.
Many of us live with emotional vocabulary that resembles this hypothetical.
It was here in the book that I had my first real moment of clarity. Just a few days back my son was having a somewhat common reaction to drawing a picture. He was trying to surprise me, but his drawing kept getting messed up. He became so frustrated trying to make things perfect that he couldn’t finish the picture and we had to help him calm down.
We always try to help him calm down by asking questions about what he’s feeling. He lacks the words to convey what he’s feeling. He’s only 5, so he’s still learning both his vocabulary and what these feelings actually mean.
So for now, the best solution is to distract him with a book. This works, but then he always wants to go right back to drawing his picture, which usually leads to meltdown round 2.
We become terrified of feeling pain, so we engage in behaviors that become a magnet for more pain. We run from anger and grief straight into the arms of fear, perfectionism, and the desperate need for control.
This makes me wonder how much my son’s behavior is driven by anger and grief. Hard to imagine those are what is driving him. However fear, perfectionism, and desperate need for control seem to be the best way to describe what he’s feeling. From the outside looking in, at least.
Either way, this passage reminds me of how much our behavior is caused by feelings we may not fully understand. Or even feelings we know are there but refuse to acknowledge. As Brown puts it…
I’ve learned that… using power over others is the opposite of courage; it’s a desperate attempt to maintain a very fragile ego. When people are hateful or cruel or just being assholes, they’re showing us exactly what they’re afraid of. And subjecting ourselves to that behavior by choice doesn’t make us tough — it’s a sign of our own lack of self-worth.
My internal reaction when my son throws a fit is frustration and impatience. I’ve done a lot of practicing and am pretty good at putting those feelings aside and just following my wife’s lead — comfort and do our best to help. We talk and try to get him to communicate his feelings, but the fit usually doesn’t subside. It almost always takes the aforementioned books, no matter how much patience and understanding we display.
My initial reaction (impatience and desire for tantrum to end) likely betrays exactly what I’m afraid of — emotional reactions. I’m just not good at dealing with them. I want to snuff them out and get back to equilibrium as quickly as possible. In fact, my natural reaction is to use my power as DAD to force those cries down.
But luckily I’ve been working on my anger and authoritarian side since my early 20’s. It was one of the first weaknesses I noticed as I entered adulthood. I am solidly in the authoritative parenting camp. But if anything tests my resolve, it’s an overly emotional reaction.
Brown goes on to bring up the idea of shame. According to Brown, when we hold someone accountable for hurtful behaviors, they may feel shame. This is not the same as shaming someone.
I’m responsible for holding you accountable in a respectful and productive way. I’m not responsible for your emotional reaction to that accountability.
This has always been difficult for me. I don’t do well with having tough conversations with people. I fear the backlash that may come. My responses likely signal to everybody this exact fear. I usually stay quiet and share glances with others around the room. If forced to hold someone accountable I tend toward a moral lecture, boxing them in so they really have no way to object.
But neither approach helps. Staying quiet gives a pass to the asshole. It also signals to anyone on the receiving end that I’ll only have their back after the fact. I’ll be there to help pick up the pieces, but I won’t stand up to stop before they’re shattered. And the moral lecture just leaves them feeling shitty with little way to save face.
Possibly worse is when I’m on the receiving end of bullying/abuse. I signal to everyone that I lack the self-worth to stand up for myself. Growing up I used this method a lot. Take the talking to (or bullying or whatever) and then adjust my behavior with the individual (or group) in the future. I saw it as my way of getting back at them. “Haha, now I think less of you and you’ll never know since I didn’t verbalize.”
But this clearly isn’t healthy. And it’s certainly not courageous. For someone who wishes to live with integrity, such behavior is unbecoming.
In recent years I’ve improved by taking in the lessons of Never Split the Difference, a book on negotiation. Written by a former FBI hostage negotiator, two of the important points are on mirroring and labeling. Mirror back what someone says to get them to expand, and label the feelings lying under the words.
I feel like I may need a refresher on these lessons, but for now, back to Brown.
Eduardo Bericat, a sociology professor at the University of Serville, says “As human beings we can only experience life emotionally.”
…our emotions help us make sense of our surroundings and provide needed input for managing ourselves and responding effectively to others.
I’ve been thinking about emotions more and more over the last few years. In fact, it was Never Split the Difference that first introduced me to research that shows humans make decisions from the same portion of the brain that experiences emotions. When someone's “emotional center” is damaged, making a decision becomes nearly impossible.
I really like the map analogy that Brown uses, because I often find myself thinking this way naturally. I’ve written before that my self-employed journey feels like a trek through the woods with no map. I have occasional signposts and trails, but often find myself off the beaten path.
A map for emotions sounds like the perfect framework to expand my inner “territory” and become a beacon for others who are lost. At the very least, I expect to learn a bit more about myself and the human condition.
Not sure what I’ll find in the rest of the book, but I’ll share anything I consider particularly insightful.
Putting the Pieces Together
In this piece, I discussed my own inability to hold people accountable. It is the fear of confrontation, but also a fear of letting people know exactly where I stand. I tend to be a chameleon and let people see what they want to see.
And what is the point of this project if I’m not holding myself accountable? I may have trouble doing so with others, but I can always start with me.
To help work on this I’m going to make my next post a recap of the other book I kept referencing, Never Split the Difference. I have the notes already created in google drive. Just a matter of going back through and putting the pieces together. It'll be nice to review the lessons and sharpen my skills.
Until next time… ✌️