Tiny Buddha

Tag: open-minded

  • Our Creative Genius Shows Us Possibilities the Rational Mind Can’t See

    Our Creative Genius Shows Us Possibilities the Rational Mind Can’t See

    “There are moments in our lives, there are moments in a day, when we seem to see beyond the usual. Such are the moments of our greatest happiness. Such are the moments of our greatest wisdom.”  ~Robert Henri, The Art Spirit

    In my twenties, I worked for a Fortune 500 company at 401 North Michigan Avenue in downtown Chicago. It was fun to work in the city, and my office overlooked Lake Michigan—I never got tired of the stunning view. Weekends were spent with friends eating at unique ethnic restaurants and visiting comedy clubs, blues bars, art galleries, museums, and theater.

    Chicago is a thriving city with a vibrant cultural life. I had a great time.

    I eventually went on to get a Ph.D. at the University of Chicago, and after I completed the degree, everything in my external world nudged me to “get out there and do great things.” Fellow students were receiving grants, fellowships, and prestigious tenure-track positions at major research universities. My advisor (Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi, the author of Flow) was excited about my dissertation research and wanted me to publish.

    Everywhere I went, freshly minted Ph.D.s were busily writing papers, interviewing, and speaking at important conferences. And if that wasn’t enough incentive, my department was being closed by the University, and administrators, faculty, and students were launching a massive fight to try to keep it open. The centerpiece of their argument was to show how their recent graduates (i.e., me…) were doing amazing, brilliant things in the world. Yikes.

    I pushed myself—secluding myself away at a quiet retreat center for a week to try to focus, write a research article, and finally get serious about my academic career. My writing was stiff, contrived, and boring.

    I was miserable.

    So, instead of launching an illustrious academic career, I moved to the wilderness of northeast Montana.

    Montana enchanted me. Everything was so different. I fell in love with the spectacular natural beauty, but also the people who were so different from anyone else I’d ever known.

    There were backwoods hippies living off the grid, musicians who played on homemade instruments, unique one-of-kind handmade houses, and artists of all kinds.

    I moved in with a longhaired hippy in a teepee. My dog and I could hear the wolves howl at night, and we crossed paths with bears during the day. I immersed myself in the beauty of the wild with its craggy mountains and deep dark winters.

    I was far, far away from the world of exalted professional accomplishments. Here’s what happened instead.

    1. I developed self-reliance.

    One day a bird flew in and got stuck between windowpanes when trying to get out. Another day, a neighbor’s stray dog got his eyelid hooked on barbed wire. (Ouch!)

    In the city, my go-to response was to get the nearest person to help. But here in this remote area, there were no neighbors to be called. I managed to successfully extricate both animals on my own and without harming them further.

    2. I developed a wide skill set.

    In rural and remote areas, by necessity, you become a generalist. I did things I never would have done had I remained in the city.

    I was asked to speak at a church service. I started leading creative writing workshops at the yoga center. I was asked by an artist to write a book about her work and the local paper invited me to participate in a community forum.

    3. I developed openness.

    In the city, I held staunch beliefs about issues such as the need for gun control. Living in the country, I developed a deeper and more fleshed out understanding of diverse views. In rural Montana, churchgoers, new-age hippies, and hunters all mix together at the post office, grocery store, and local cafe.

    My perspectives broadened. I was no longer automatically locked into a particular position. Whereas before I saw the world in stark black-and-white, I now saw shades of gray.

    4. I developed leadership skills.

    In the city, civic organizations can feel large and intimidating. In a rural setting, everyone pitches in.

    I was asked to organize a United Way meeting. I became involved in the Rotary club. The employment agency asked me to lead a staff meeting,

    5. I developed passions for different things.

    I became proficient at river rafting. I spent weekends contra dancing. A band needed a bass guitar player and there was no one else around, so I volunteered to give it a try. (I loved it.)

    I had no idea of the fun to be had in the country.

    6. I discovered a freedom of identity.

    I’d spent my life growing up in a conservative Midwestern family, then following corporate rules as a computer scientist before embarking on a rigorous Ph.D. program.

    In Montana, I let myself break the rules for a while, stepping out of everything I had known and trying on something completely new and different. I discovered what it felt like to be free of roles and expectations.

    A friend of mine, a massage therapist, absolutely loved her work. After several years, she decided she wanted to make more money and she made the rational decision to switch to a career in nursing. Since both professions involve healing work, she naturally believed nursing would be a good choice for her.

    Years and tens of thousands of dollars later, she admits that she hates nursing. Logic doesn’t help us find our next step.

    By the way, I also have a dear friend who loves being a nurse. This is not a story about nursing (or academia). It’s a story about uniqueness.

    What are the unique paths that inspire each of us? What are the unique places, people, and situations that help us grow?

    When we’re stuck, it’s often because our minds are dead-set focused on the direction that seems reasonable. It’s the only direction that our minds can see.

    Our creative genius has a much different approach. It offers us unique, peculiar possibilities that our rational mind can’t see.

    Your creative genius will take you in directions that you don’t expect and can’t predict ahead of time. Directions that aren’t a linear, incremental next step. Instead, they open up entire new worlds that you didn’t know existed.

    Here’s a tip…

    When you’d like to make a change, feel blocked, or frustrated that whatever you’re doing is no longer working, consciously step back and imagine opening space for possibilities you hadn’t considered. This can be a challenge—your mind may have a hard time letting go of the reins.

    You are more than your thinking mind. You have another, non-cognitive creative intelligence operating in your life as well. It’s your creative genius and it’s worth listening to.

    Opening space for it will give it a chance to express itself.

  • When You Strongly Disagree with Someone: How to Find Common Ground

    When You Strongly Disagree with Someone: How to Find Common Ground

    “The truth you believe and cling to makes you unavailable to hear anything new.” ~Pema Chodron

    I was recently having dinner with a group of friends, and I casually mentioned that I’ve been making more effort in my life to help prevent climate change.

    Across the table, someone looked straight at me and said, “You know human-induced climate change isn’t real, right?”

    I was shocked because I’ve known this person for years, and we’ve always agreed on important topics in the past. I immediately shot back with, “Umm, yes it is!” and proceeded to tell him exactly why he was so wrong.

    I’ll spare you the gory details, but let’s just say the rest of the conversation didn’t go well. It gradually got more and more heated until we were the only two people talking (read: yelling) at each other across the table.

    In the end, someone shut the argument down by saying, “You’ll just have to agree to disagree.” We both took the hint, retreated into our corners, and glared at each other for the rest of the evening.

    A few days later, I was relating the incident to another friend. In all honesty, I was looking for an ally who would help stoke my righteous indignation. But instead of nodding and agreeing with me, she said, “It sounds a lot like you were trying to force your beliefs on him and got mad when he wouldn’t back down.”

    This comment stuck with me, and over time I was forced to admit she was correct. I was so caught up in being right that I had refused to accept anyone could believe differently. Even worse, emotion had completely taken over, and I’d made no effort to find common ground or try and see things from a different perspective.

    In hindsight, I’ve realized I was missing the larger truth that we all believe we are seeing the world as it should be. Our entrenched beliefs become part of our identity because they help us make sense of the chaotic world we live in. And when someone holds a radically different view to our own, it shakes the foundation of our own beliefs and makes us feel off balance and insecure.

    But the good news is, no matter how differently you see the world from someone else, there’s always a way to find some common ground. Here are six tips I’ve learned to help have productive, respectful conversations and open your mind to different perspectives.

    1. Focus on the outcome.

    When you get bogged down arguing about specifics, take the argument up as many levels as you need until you find common ground.

    For example, in the case of climate change, we could have both easily agreed that the environment is important and we want to leave the world a better place for our kids. We just have different views on how to get there. This is a great way to reset the conversation because you’re focused on discussing the outcome rather than winning the argument.

    2. Understand their perspective.

    Learning the underlying reason why someone believes something can help you see a different side of the issue. It might not change your mind, but it will help you treat the other person with more empathy and give you fresh ideas to discuss.

    For example, someone’s refusal to accept climate change might be caused by concern about the negative effects it will have on their life. Maybe transitioning to renewable energy means they will lose their job or be forced to change their lifestyle in ways they don’t want to accept.

    If you can understand these underlying concerns, you’ll be much more likely to find common ground and have a productive discussion.

    3. Separate emotion from logic.

    A stressful argument can hijack the prefrontal cortex—the part of the brain responsible for critical thinking and decision-making. When this happens, you go into “fight or flight” mode and become more likely to react emotionally, think less creatively, and say things without thinking them through.

    The next time you find yourself getting angry or defensive in an argument, take a step back and try to de-escalate your emotions by acknowledging them. Once you’re feeling more logical and calm, you can start to look for common ground again.

    4. Practice active listening.

    Active listening is a communication technique that involves hearing, paraphrasing, and responding to what the other person is saying. It’s an essential skill for finding common ground because it shows that you’re genuinely interested in understanding their perspective.

    The next time you’re in an argument, try repeating back what the other person has said in different words to make sure you’ve understood them correctly. Then, add your perspective to what they’ve said. For example, “I can see why you feel that way, but I also think…”

    5. Be mindful of your own biases.

    We all have biases—it’s part of being human. We want to win arguments, be right, and be liked, so it’s easy to fall into the trap of only listening to information that supports our point of view.

    In this case, I was forced to admit that I haven’t actually read any of the climate change research myself. My beliefs are almost entirely based on existing in a bubble with other like-minded people who reinforce those beliefs.

    Exposing yourself to different perspectives—even if you don’t agree with them—can help you think more critically about your own beliefs. It might even help you find common ground where you thought there was none.

    6. Remember that differing views are important.

    If everyone agreed on everything, the world would be a pretty boring place. But even more importantly, differing ideas help to push society forward. They challenge us to think critically about our own beliefs and come up with new solutions to problems.

    So the next time you find yourself in an argument with someone, try to see it as an opportunity to learn and grow rather than a chance to prove your point. You might just be surprised at how much common ground you can find.

  • Open-Minded People Don’t Care to Be Right

    Open-Minded People Don’t Care to Be Right

  • How To Be Open-Minded When Others See the World Differently

    How To Be Open-Minded When Others See the World Differently

    “Most disagreements are caused by different perceptions that created different realities.” ~Unknown

    When I was thirteen, I experienced a monumental change in my young life.

    It wasn’t a big move, no one close to me died, and although puberty was rocking my world in the worst way, it was something else altogether that shook me to the core:

    The movie Titanic came out.

    I know, I know, it’s just a movie, and I was just another swooning teenager wishing that I was the one Jack never wanted to let go of, but it hit me hard. Truth, love, the pain of loss: a woman following her heart and risking it all for true love. I relished every second of its three hours and fifteen minute run time.

    So much that I saw it multiple times over winter break at school—usually with my equally enamored mom, sometimes with my best friend, always with a lump in my throat. I held back tears as I saw Jack’s face disappearing into the icy waters, always wondering why Rose couldn’t make room for him on the raft, each time imagining myself in the situation: falling in love, making tough choices, persevering through loss.

    (Spoiler alert: the ship sinks.)

    Returning to school a few weeks later, I knew I’d been changed. Titanic was helping me to sort out the girl I was from the woman I was becoming, and I figured it was having an equal effect on those around me. I was pleasantly surprised when I walked into class on the first day back at school and read an obviously related quote on the white board:

    “’Tis better to have loved and lost than never to have loved at all.” ~Tennyson

    I smiled inside, realizing that my eighth grade teacher must have seen Titanic too, feeling a kindred recognition of just how important this epic film was. After all, it was a sweeping success across the country, breaking records and hearts and box office sales.

    As I settled into my seat and he began to lecture, I prepared to listen to what his thoughts were about the film: maybe he had a historical critique, or an interpretation of the film’s depiction of the human condition?

    Oh, how wrong I was.

    It turns out that the local football team had gone to the super bowl during this same break, and while I was losing it over Jack and Rose, many others were losing it over this team’s big loss.

    As my teacher began to lecture and joke with classmates about “the value of making it to the super bowl at all” I hung my head in frustration and confusion. There was a life-changing movie in theatres, cataloguing one of the worst catastrophes in history. Why didn’t anyone care about this? Isn’t this quote on the board far more applicable to a love story than to a football team?

    Doesn’t everyone feel the way that I do??

    In retrospect, my Titanic example is funny (and somewhat ridiculous). Of course not everyone felt the same soul shaking connection to a movie, and of course not everyone had the newly awakened hormones of a teenage girl. (Say Leeeeoooo with some longing in a whispery voice, and you’ve got my thirteen-year-old daydreams pegged pretty well.)

    When we’re that young it’s easy to make major mistakes in our perception of others, but within this comical event are the seeds of an issue that would continue to show up, both in my life and others.

    There’s Imperfection in Perception

    My misinterpretation of a teacher’s quote on the board is an early mistake in “encoding” and “decoding.” Those two words are just fancy talk for the complicated interaction that is communication, and how they’re related to something called the “confirmation bias.”

    See, when I read those words on the white board, they confirmed something that I (unconsciously) assumed to be true: everyone cared about this thing that I did (ahem, Titanic, cough) and of course this quote about love must relate to it. The words on the board spoke to me in a way that I thought was universal: my thirteen-year-old brain knew exactly what they meant.

    When words are spoken, however (or written on a white board in eighth grade), the intention of the communicator can get lost in the understanding. When I say something to you, I’m “encoding” information that I want to communicate; I’m trying to get you to understand me.

    The trouble comes when we forget that each person understands (or “decodes”) information differently—we hear what we know, we hear what we want, and we hear what makes sense based on our life thus far.

    See, this variability in perception happens because each of us views the world through a slightly different lens. What the word “love” means to me could be different than what it means to you; for example, what has the word “love” meant in the past? Has it been controlling or unconditional, loaded with expectations or adoration?

    The actual words we use are simply a jumping off place, and then they’re strung together in beads of sentences that can appear a different color to each person listening. The “colors” (or meaning) we assign to words vary because all of us do; and because our minds are expert categorizers, we often understand things in a way that already makes sense with our existent worldview.

    It’s for this reason that two people can read the same news article and come away with different interpretations, or feel entirely different about the events going on in the world: We tend to pay attention to information that confirms what we already believe to be true, and disregard the rest of what we see. It’s not due to callousness either; it’s the way that we’re wired.

    Our brains are really good at simplifying and organizing. In order to cognitively make sense of a complicated and busy world, we have to become expert categorizers. This is adaptive, and it helps our overworked brains make sense of things.

    The hiccups only come when we forget that the way we’ve organized the world is different than the way that others have; when we assume that each person interprets the world and its events the way that we do.

    So, what do we do? If everyone could mean something different when they say “I love you” or “let’s go get some ice cream” then how on earth are we ever supposed to understand each other? Is all social coherence lost?

    The answer is simple, but not easy: We must keep an open (and present) mind.

    Open-mindedness

    Keeping an open mind is realizing that we all perceive the world that we live in differently. It’s remembering that when we read (or listen) we are “decoding” at the same time—trying to understand and make sense of information, all through our unique and limited worldview.

    It’s being patient when we feel misunderstood, and allowing for the possibility that we’re also misunderstanding others.

    Open-mindedness is being forgiving of people who hold different opinions and reminding ourselves that we’ve really only ever been one person; we don’t necessarily know what the world is like for others.

    Being open-minded is another form of mindfulness, really. It’s pausing before responding, and asking ourselves: What do I already believe to be true about this person, this event, this political party? What in my past is causing me to feel agitated, or generous, or suspicious? What does the person speaking to me actually mean?

    Even if we don’t always have the answers, simply allowing the questions to percolate our perception can open us up to the world around us.

    Not having answers also gives us the chance to ask questions; if we don’t know what someone means by a statement, we can ask them to clarify. If that’s not an option (because who likes to feed trolls on the internet, right?) then can we at least hold space for a worldview that varies from ours?

    Even if we don’t agree with it, even if it makes our blood boil, can we pause while we try to understand it? Slow down our categorizing minds and realize that the world looks different from varying angles?

    It’s difficult to pause when we’re agitated, but it’s definitely possible. Practicing mindfulness in communication (whether it’s with a loved one or a stranger on the internet) can give us space to ask these questions, extend our understanding, and allow for differences.

    Listening to an idea with an open mind is letting go of all the reasons it’s wrong, or right, and allowing the person (or words) to be what they are. It’s digesting things with the knowledge that we’re bringing our own “stuff” to the table; keeping in mind that our history colors each and every interaction we have.

    It’s a complicated world that we navigate, and there are benefits to the assumptions we jump to minute by minute. But in order to sift through assumptions we’ve first got to be aware of them, and that involves being vigilant of our monkey minds as often as possible. It involves pausing, taking a breath, and asking ourselves: Is this person talking about Titanic, or football?

  • Open-Minded People

    Open-Minded People

    Open-Minded People

    Source: The Mind Unleashed

  • Become Open-Minded: The Benefits of Embracing New People and Ideas

    Become Open-Minded: The Benefits of Embracing New People and Ideas

    Clearheaded

    “You have your way. I have my way. As for the right way, the correct way, and the only way, it does not exist.” ~Friedrich Nietzsche

    Toward the end of last spring I was feeling a little restless in Los Angeles, so I decided to take some time in the summer to live on a yoga retreat in Hawaii. I was set on recharging and finding comfort in like-minded people who valued slowing down and mindfulness.

    Learning was not at the top of my list; I was there to unwind from a tough semester and recharge for the semester ahead of me.

    I was in for a big surprise. 

    When I got there, I was greeted by the expected tanned-skin and white smiles of mostly 20-something-year olds in yoga pants. They shared more than yoga tips; there seemed to be an underlying philosophy they shared that, honestly, made me very uncomfortable at the time.

    You see, even though I am really into yoga, slowing down, and the like, I am also a very political person. And by political, I don’t just mean involvement and interest in what is going on around me in the world; I mean that I feel active in my existence on earth and cherish my ability to create.

    This is why I found myself being annoyed by the constant sayings around the dinner table like, “I can’t wait what tomorrow has in store for me” and this talk about going with the flow and letting go.

    The emphasis placed on receptiveness, passivity, and ease seemed antithetical to what I stood for at the time.

    So I left the retreat early. I thought I would feel better surrounded by people who thought like me, and were interested in outrospection versus constant introspection. I wanted to be around people that were a little less hedonistic and self-indulgent—or so I thought.

    When I got back, I got sick. Just a few months back in Los Angeles, I received six biopsies that confirmed I had Celiac’s disease. This explained the incurable anemia, constant nausea, and incredible exhaustion.

    My friends and family here could hardly relate, and they urged me to get back “on track” as soon as I could, to join in the projects I was a part of with them, at my university and at work.

    The “get over it” attitude made me feel so lonely and objectified, and really started making me think, what am I going to do now?

    The pressure to get myself back on that productive momentum was straining me, and made me reconsider my previous judgment about the power of letting go.

    Although I realized that embracing this philosophy would mean I would be contradicting what I previously asserted for myself, it was a small shift in my mindset that would gradually set up a path for my personal enlightenment.

    After pensive thoughts about who I should start surrounding myself with, I realized I should focus on that less and start putting my energy into the kind of person I wanted to be.

    I asked myself, “Will my values continue to be deep-rooted in constructivism, politics, and action, or will I be like the bohemian girls I met on the retreat?”

    The truth is, neither of these perspectives truly satisfied me. After swinging from one extreme to another, I realized I felt more comfortable picking and choosing my philosophies as opportunities and experiences unraveled themselves over time.

    I shifted my mindset to discard my dreams of finding a one-size-fits all philosophy, and settled for middle ground.

    This new perspective has influenced my own work in the field of political psychology; it has shaped way I approach politics; I now analyze it from a bottom-to-top perspective versus a top-to-bottom paradigm.

    I have decided I feel better when I am nonpartisan, and simply support platforms based on how they fit with my values at the moment.

    I am learning to trust myself, because I am learning that with new experiences, values can shift, and that is okay.

    I am going back to this yoga retreat this summer, and hope to go in with a better attitude and more openness so that I get more out of the experience. The whole approach of going in with my mind made up with “who I am” and “what others should be like” has not worked for me.

    This is not to say that I am giving up on reasoned judgment, but that I will place more emphasis on learning and being receptive to change, since it is inevitable anyway.

    So in retrospect, when I went to this retreat in Hawaii last summer, I didn’t think I would learn valuable skills that would serve me in sickness. That’s the beautiful thing about traveling—trying on different perspectives that make you into a more multilayered, understanding person.

    I realize that we may not all get the opportunities to travel, and it can be easy to get so immersed in our own perspective and way of being that we fail to grow from the contrast that travel can provide.

    As Alexis de Tocquevilleonce said, “Without comparisons, the mind does not know how to proceed.”

    I hold the belief that without regular checkpoints and contrast in life, we may develop tunnel vision, which can influence us to think and behave in ways that limit us. Here is some insight and advice I have gathered to bring some perspective:

    Embrace fear in your life.

    Yes, expanding your mind and challenging what you firmly held onto before can be scary. However, know that embracing the unknown can open you up to new experiences, people, wisdom, and insights.

    Keep your priorities clear.

    This means to remember that if you are trying to gain perspective, to keep your mind open no matter what. Place learning at the top of your list of things to do so that receptiveness, openness, and controlled passivity will naturally follow.

    Don’t forget to share!

    Chances are, if you are traveling or even planning on broadening your perspective at home, others can learn from yours as well. In my experience, there is nothing more profound than sharing perspectives and having both parties walk away with an enriched view of life.

    Photo by ePi.Longo