Another metric for our behaviour
Often, when we consider a behaviour, our evaluations are based on metrics such as good or bad, right or wrong, healthy or unhealthy and so on. Of course, these are useful rules of thumb, with a simplicity and logic to them. They also have a sense of obviousness to each of us (despite the fact that to someone else, the opposite might be just as obvious). I’m sure we know people who believe that diets are obviously good, or obviously bad… and so on.
What’s another way to look at this?
Outside of those that unequivocally harm ourselves or others, it’s harder to define many behaviours as inherently and always right or wrong. Intention, context and impact all have a part in this equation.
Therefore, some alternative lenses through which to consider our behaviour would be:
Is this behaviour conscious, or unconscious?
Is this behaviour compulsive, or a choice?
Let’s look at the first part…
Firstly, is this behaviour conscious or unconscious?
We’ve all seen, in ourselves or others, patterns of behaviour that seem to operate entirely below the conscious awareness of the person involved. This could range from intentional denial to genuine obliviousness. An example would be someone propounding family values, while privately mistreating their own, or someone who views themselves as logical and level-headed, despite being prone to outbursts of anger that they don’t seem to acknowledge.
We all have blindspots, which, by definition, are difficult for us to see for ourselves.
What can we do about this?
How can we create more awareness around habits and behaviours that we might be doing on autopilot? First off, we can take a closer look. Simply taking some time to think, talk or write about our actions can help. Any attempts to simply notice, create some distance and aim for objectivity are useful. Inventory, and introspect. This could involve taking a specific behaviour, such as social media scrolling, spending, drinking etc. as asking ourselves:
How do I feel about this behaviour?
Is this affecting my relationships?
What are the costs? What are the benefits? (Financially, time and health-wise, emotionally etc.)
Next, is there anyone else who can help with this?
One of my refrains in coaching is that it takes a village to raise an adult. We all need others to support us in working towards health.
Unsurprisingly, I’d suggest working with a coach, therapist or counsellor if you feel you have an issue that needs professional input, but any safe and supportive person can contribute. Naturally, we need to choose who we listen to with care, particularly when it comes to the sometimes painful work of honest self-observation. The challenge here is learning to at least tolerate, if not welcome, any feedback that has a sting of truth to it.
As Bruce Tift says:
“…in a therapeutic session, a lot of times there’s a process where somebody claims that they want to change their habitual patterns, but when we actually start to investigate what would be required, which is - to feel exactly the feelings that that person has dedicated their life to avoiding - a lot of very mixed feelings come up. If somebody persists, they have to in my experience be committed to tolerating a fair amount of panic, at least for a while. And I have the opinion that it’s worth that work.”
He goes on to say that almost all of us turn out to have “an annihilatory level of panic” associated with our core vulnerabilities, which means that we need to undertake any deep self-exploration with compassion, patience, and kindness, and work with people who embody these characteristics.
I’ve often pictured self-reflection as standing in front of a roped-off statue in a museum. From our vantage point, try as we might, there are only so many angles of the statue that we’ll see. Imagine then someone who was able to walk behind the rope and see the statue from behind. Think of what else they could see, and what they could tell us if we’d listen. Even with honest effort, we can’t see what we can’t see. There are insights that we can only access from another viewpoint, which we need to receive from others - ideally others who will share this with respect and gentleness.
So really the point here is to bring each of our behaviours into focus with as much objectivity as we can generate, from ourselves and from trusted others. We can at least move towards awareness. We might not always like what we see, but there’s something solid in seeing the truth. Awareness may not always lead to growth, but it’s the necessary starting point.
Secondly, is this behaviour compulsive, or a choice?
I once heard the goal of coaching described as moving us “from compulsivity to choice”, and I’d suggest this as another useful metric to evaluate our actions.
Say we’ve grown awareness of a pattern, such as a drinking habit, or a communication pattern with a family member. That simply means: “I recognise that I do this”. The next question is: How much choice do I have in this behaviour? Can I stop or change this pattern easily, or does it feel even slightly out of hand? The word compulsive might sound harsh, but all of us, if we’re honest, do things we don’t fully choose, even if it’s just watching more Netflix than we planned, or putting something on a credit card that we really feel we shouldn’t.
This of course doesn’t just apply to full-blown addiction. If we give it our attention, we can all feel the biting point where our actions overrule our intentions, and our behaviour feels even a little out of our control. If we have for example promised ourselves to keep calm around someone, and we can feel the irritation ratcheting when we’re with them, we’re not really exercising complete choice at that point - our actions are being dictated by our feelings rather than our decisions.
The point here is not to make ourselves wrong about every little slip-up or “bad habit”. I’ve yet to meet someone who could eat half a Snickers and put the other half back in the fridge (and if I did I’d wonder what other atrocities they’d be capable of) - it’s simply to notice where that biting point is for us, and to give some attention to the part of us that kicks in and compels us, and to examine its origin and cost.
The hope would be that with a better understanding of our behaviour, including its (in my experience) always honest if sometimes misguided origin and purpose, we can at least hope to make some lasting change, if that’s what we want.
If we take anger as an example, we could argue that anger is either right or wrong, justified or not, and so on, depending on our own definitions and viewpoint. However using the criteria of consciousness and compulsivity, I could see that losing my temper and lashing out, then denying any responsibility for my behaviour, means I’m operating without much awareness (I’m denying it) or choice (I can’t control it).
However feeling anger (which may be proportionate and justified depending on the situation), but pausing to create a moment’s space and making an effort to respond, rather than react, does enable me to act with a little more choice, with extra points for introspection or inviting an objective opinion afterwards. This approach moves us more towards awareness, and away from compulsion.
The most obvious application is any addictive behaviours, where the combination of compulsiveness and unconsciousness can cause destructiveness beyond belief. But the same behaviour - such as the occasional drink for example - with complete choice and awareness, won’t for most people be a cause for concern.
Bottom line - I’d invite you to consider any behaviour - particularly any one that concerns you even a little - and run it through the criteria of consciousness, and choice.
