I joked recently with a client that half of life is spent managing our own or other people’s anxiety. She agreed. We both laughed, and then we quickly sobered at the realization of this truth.
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Every difficult conversation, decision, negotiation, request, compromise, declaration, or directive stems from a sensation that something needs to shift or be different.

Passivity or sameness in life can create a sense of anxiety as boredom can be a freedom killer. Others have anxiety at the mere idea of change, let alone living through one. Freedom can manifest unease and apprehension is born when

• Things do not move fast enough or they move too quickly
• A decision is made or not made
• There is uncertainty or too much predictability
• You are isolated or you are not alone

What some love, others see as their version of hell (and vice versa).
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The problem is rarely the problem. The problem is anxiety and our response to it. When anxiety goes unaddressed or unexplored, it can fester into difficulties. Then it becomes a ‘whack-a-mole’ approach as we try to fix one problem after another versus the underlying root – our response to anxiety.
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It’s like that one dandelion at the edge of the yard. It’s not hurting anyone, and it bugs you that you have a weed, but it’s only one. We think if we ignore it, perhaps it will go away. Three weeks later, it is shocking to see the yard overrun by gangly stems with heads of white fluff that seem to have spread overnight. Now that darn weed has hijacked your front yard, and you react to this new problem by harshly mowing everything down hoping unwanted wildflowers do not grow back. They do. They always do.

For twenty years, I have had at least one Peter Koestenbaum quote thumb tacked to whatever bulletin board is in my office. He is a master at redefining the role of anxiety in our lives. One of my favorites is the following:

Anxiety is the experience of growth itself. In any endeavor, how do you feel when you go from one stage to the next? The answer: You feel anxious. Anxiety that is denied makes us ill; anxiety that is fully confronted and fully lived through converts itself into joy, security, strength, centeredness, and character. The practical formula: Go where the pain is.

Koestenbaum also has a beautiful way of reminding us that we truncate our lives when we resist or run away when faced with anxiety. We must move towards it. We often have to get closer to the issue and study it; by understanding, it we learn, and then we grow. We may never be weed free, but we can create new environments that hamper the spread of weeds. We can also be intentional with what we plant.

Where are your weeds? Where is your pain? This is where you need to go.
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Photos by James Peacock on Unsplash

​Do you ever feel wordless? I had a client recently say she felt like she had a conversation bubble floating over her head like a word cloud. She could not string the elements together to form a complete sentence. Labels, names, adverbs, adjectives, nouns, verbs – all dangling in space waiting for some resemblance of order, narrative or expression. It’s a head-scratcher to have so many thousands of choices available in the spoken language and not be able to find a few to summarize your thoughts, feelings or reactions. It can be an odd sensation.

The current headlines alone can certainly cause a lot of wordlessness:

• Privileged parents buying their kid’s education when the silent majority follow the rules wondering if they are good enough.
• Senseless acts of violence in places of worship, transit, work, or neighborhood; where are the safe spaces?
• Barbed statements sent through cyberspace by bullies for the world stage to see and comment.
• Storms, floods, fires, blizzards, and extreme weather patterns that have us questioning the environment.

Lots of issues can cause speechlessness. Then there are the slights we experience daily. Whether it is an unresponsive boss, an eye-roll, a rude comment, or an organization culture that silences new ideas in favor of the old way of doing things – it can create a wordless sensation.
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Before we all resort to cussing it out, I have a suggestion. We may need to express that we feel speechless. From a physical perspective, we are never truly without words. Unless there is a physical condition – the vocal cords still work. We can speak, but the emotion can be too strong, leaving us unable to find the right declaration to fit the context. These moments of vulnerability invite your leadership.

Have you ever been in a meeting and said, “I am without words, and I think we need to all sit in silence for a bit and reflect?”

When was the last time you refrained from problem admiration to admit you did not know how to get past the present obstacle because your emotion was clogging your thinking?

Do you permit yourself to slow the constant chatter of achieveachieveachieveachieve hurryhurryhurry talktalktalktalk complaincomplaincomplain directdirectdirectdirect or answeransweransweranswer?

Leadership is most often expressed in words, but it can also be felt in silence.

There is a time for language and a time to be quiet – good leaders maximize both opportunities and do not let the weird wordless feeling go unexplored. When those moments hit - Let them be. Choose silence and see what emerges. There is an invitation in the space that language cannot fill – we do not always realize we need it, but once there, the body will take some big deep breaths.

Where are you wordless and how do you want to manage that?

Photos by Tim Mossholder on Unsplash