Solutions Through Compassionate Communication.
Usually I toss my copy of the annual Medicare and You Handbook into my ‘read file.’ But with our book coming out in January (see below), I carefully reviewed this year’s issue. Its 122 pages are chock-full of information on coverage like chronic care management services (p.34) and yearly wellness visits (p.49). But the following three items, I believe, merit special attention.
When my friend Bill’s mother’s primary care physician informed her that she would need round-the-clock support (because of one unexplained blackout), it was a shocker to her and her family.
What to do? Bill and his brother lived far enough away that they couldn’t provide their mom the required level of personal care. And their Mom was determined to remain in her hometown.
So, they checked out a few assisted living residences, and in an all-too-brief period decided on one. It had a good enough reputation and wasn’t far from her apartment. So, she moved in… and was pretty miserable for her remaining years. Given her temperament, she might have been unhappy no matter where she lived. But I can’t help wondering whether the residence where Bill’s mom moved was the main cause of her upset.
Most of the time when I am confronted by another person’s emotions, I mirror back their behavior. If someone’s angry with me, I tend to respond in kind. If someone’s pleasant, I’ll react similarly. If we find ourselves in a frightening situation, we often become scared. And so on. This is called ‘complementary behavior.’ Another name is ‘feedback loop.’
But what if we ‘flip the script?’ What happens when we confront anger with empathy or kindness? A 2016 NPR episode of Invisibilia recounted how a group of friends who were dining together were suddenly confronted by someone threatening to rob them at gunpoint. One of the group invited the would-be thief to join them with a glass of wine. In time the thief put away his gun, asked for a group hug, apologized, and departed without incident.
[My last post reflected on my training in Reintegration Support Circles. This post continues to track my experience, especially in role-plays where we practiced how to conduct a Reintegration Support Circle with a returning citizen, his or her family members, and perhaps a clergy person or a community member.]
iStock.com/AlexMax
After reaching consensus on Guidelines, a Keeper asked us to write on 3 x 5 cards a Value that we wanted to bring to the Circle and explain why the value is important to us. According to author Kay Pranis*, values “help people remember who they want to be in their best selves before they want to work together.”* I wrote “generosity.” Others wrote honesty, compassion, commitment, and authenticity. And so on.
The process deepened my engagement. I knew I was on to something very special and different from my experience mediating.
Next came Story Telling: Beginning with the Keeper, participants shared stories about a life experience. Examples ranged from what it was like to return home after a long absence to a how we felt when someone gave us unexpected but needed support.
Imagine how this process was intensifying: From identifying ourselves and sharing our feelings about taking part in the circle, to our relationship with the RC, to suggesting guidelines and sharing values, to telling a personal story, I felt an ever deeper connection with those in my circle. (And this was only a role-play!)
iStock.com/AlexMax
Since my January 4th blog “Surmounting Tough Conversations After Incarceration,” I took a 30-hour training in Reintegration Support Circles. Support Circles are a means to resolve issues without shame or blame or winners or losers. Reintegration Support Circles seek, among other things, to re-unite Returning Citizens (RCs)* with family members, friends, clergy, social workers, and maybe other supportive members of the RC’s community (usually 6 or 7 persons) in a structured and circular setting. The aim is to generate a shared, positive vision for a Returning Citizen.
Circles are one of many processes associated with Restorative Justice, a conflict resolution process, philosophy, and set of practices, that is fast finding its way into schools, juvenile justice systems, and even adult criminal proceedings. Circles have their source among the ways of Indigenous peoples in North America, New Zealand, South Pacific, Africa, Alaska, and elsewhere.
Revealing that I’m eighty-years-old makes this one of the toughest blogs I’ve written. It shouldn’t be, but it is. Just as one’s sexual identity or race or economic status shouldn’t evoke raised eyebrows or muffled comments, neither should one’s age.
For years I dreaded mentioning my age. If someone found out, I’d hear one of those inevitable comments: “I had no idea. I thought you were 65 or 70.” Or, “I hope I look like you when I’m your age.” Or, “You look REMARKABLE (hate that word) for your age.” So-called compliments may sound positive, but they’re negative because they betray an ageist stereotype in the speaker’s mind.
For several years, our Tough Conversations blogs have mainly focused on families and aging. Sig’s current blog explores a different but equally challenging area of family interaction: namely, how families and returning citizens can prepare to reunite after the latter’s release from incarceration.
One of the toughest conversations I can think of is that of a returning citizen (ex-offender) with his or her family members prior to or after release from prison. After years of incarceration, how does an individual re-unite with his or her family?
Maintaining family contact while incarcerated is challenging. It’s said that when a person enters prison, the entire family (figuratively) accompanies him or her. Imagine a Dad not seeing his kids grow up for 15 years. Or a Mom, sentenced to 10 years behind bars and separated from her baby before its first birthday. This happens constantly.
For years we have advocated greater transparency among family members when addressing issues, such as:
— the location of a parent’s will and other important documents;
— how a parent intends to bequeath her assets;
— whom the parent designates as executor of his will and his powers of attorney;
— the terms of their living will and who will make healthcare decisions for them should they lack capacity to voice their preferences; and where they would reside if they can no longer live independently.
We consistently urge parents to share this information with ALL their adult children. No exceptions. To exclude an adult child risks troubled relations among their children long after they’ve left this life for the next.
Worthy counsel indeed. But let’s remember that transparency is not an end in itself. The goal is family harmony, ensuring adult children understand their parents’ wishes, that they are willing to take the helm if a crisis affects their parents’ well-being, and honoring their wishes should they suffer a life threatening illness.
But what happens if these good intentions go awry? What if an adult child resents that another of his siblings is named financial power of attorney? Or a family member objects to an older adult’s aging in place rather than entering assisted living? Or a sibling takes issue with a parent who opts for hospice care rather than undergo high-risk medical treatment for a chronic illness?
In May 2017 my wife and I visited Portland, Oregon, for a week. We had a wonderful time. There’s plenty to do. The weather was awesome. Our hotel was top-notch. Everything clicked.
Our first evening there we saw a play. The theater is in a building that houses several art galleries. One is called “The Geezer Gallery.” After years of writing about ageism and the need for us older Americans to face life squarely and with self-respect, I was honestly appalled that an organization could call itself that. (My online dictionary defines geezer as an odd or eccentric man, usually an elderly person). [Read more…]
These days we hear a lot about people living in ‘bubbles.’ In mediation I often encounter parties whose positions are encased in a bubble, reinforced by an interior monologue that strengthens their conviction that they are right and the opposing party is wrong. In time it’s possible to pierce these bubbles and engage in conversations about mutual concerns and interests they share with the other party.
In politics bubbles have taken a more sinister significance. Living just 12 blocks from the U.S. Capitol, I’m sure many think I not only live in a bubble, but in ‘The Swamp’ as well.
If I live in a bubble, don’t an unemployed factory worker in Youngstown, Ohio, or a rancher in Oklahoma live in bubbles as well? One could argue we all live in bubbles.
Bubbles can be perilous places. While they may provide a protective ‘skin’ to keep out opposing, even ‘dangerous’ ideas, and exposure to the ‘other,’ they also prevent us from enlarging our understanding of the world beyond us.