When I asked my kids about their favorite and least favorite aspects of our recent road trip, I got:

“The oil fields were interesting.”

“There were weapons sold at every rest stop!”

“I wish I had tried Popeye’s buffalo chicken strips.”
Umm… were we all on the same trip?  I was momentarily horrified.  Here I thought I as providing cultural exposure and quality family time for my offspring.  And the best my 15 year old can come up with is a wistful wish for Popeye’s buffalo chicken strips?

Even while on the same path physically, we were on different mental and emotional journeys.  Have you ever left a meeting and heard a coworker complain, “I can’t believe he said that!” and go on to vent about a comment that you had interpreted as innocuous?  And suddenly you realize that your coworker’s interpretation of the words has more to do with what she is thinking and feeling rather than the meaning of the words actually uttered – or the intent of the speaker.

This is how a lot of miscommunication happens. I may be in the shade of a tree with a bird ready to poop on my head, while my coworker is soaking up the warmth of the blazing sunlight less than two feet away. And my sunbathing pal is horrified at the bird droppings adorning my head, but being of Russian descent, I believe this is a symbol of good luck and coolly use a handkerchief to clean up my good fortune. Different perspectives.  Same path.

It can be easier to spot these gaps in perspective with your family or your coworkers when you’re experiencing the same event from differing points of view.  But what happens when conflicting points of view are warring within yourself?

A few years ago, I was standing in my boss’ office being berated for the way I handled a confrontation with a coworker earlier that week.  I stood there, a bundle of conflicting feelings as I run the scenario over again in my head and consider how I could have handled things differently.

• I am upset with myself that I mishandled the situation.
• I am not sure I mishandled it.
• I am confused at the context in which I am receiving the feedback, as this was not the intent of the meeting with my boss.
• I want to apologize for my error and ask how to make it right. I want to point out that idiots are idiots and I am not responsible if they misunderstood my comment.
• I want to find a way to soften my approach in the future.
• I want to rebel against any suggestion that I cannot be myself.

The paths clashing within me were not my view of the confrontation versus my boss’… the conflict waging was how to respond in that moment.  My head was trying to rationalize what felt like an attack, not feedback, by my boss.  My emotions wanted to vigorously defend how I handled my coworker.  My head said this is not my best course of action.  I felt battered and picked-on. I thought, if I speak rationally, I can make her understand my point of view.  I thought, maybe there is a hard truth I need to hear.  I wanted to burst out with all the passion I felt building in me.

So what do I do?

Nothing.  I did not acquiesce that I made a mistake nor did I defend my actions.  I took it in.  I watched everything I was feeling and thinking.  I watched my boss continue to talk.  This resulted in two
important realizations:

• By not responding with my heart and launching into a vehement defense, I did not escalate a conversation that was already not going well.  I gave myself space to feel uncomfortable and unhappy, but didn’t give in to a resume-producing outburst.  The feelings passed – but believe me, I felt them very thoroughly first.
• By not responding with my head, I gave myself the space to acknowledge that while my head is logical, my gut sometimes knows what it’s talking about, too.   I didn’t submit to the initial, “smarter” impulse to agree with my boss and try to fix things.   Instead, I let her present her argument and gave myself space to consider it.

Those two things allowed me to walk out of that meeting without having lost my head or my self-confidence. I gave myself time and space to evaluate the situation more objectively.  And by letting silence be my response, my boss over-explained her view which revealed other motives for this unexpected “feedback session.”  And I realized, we were in the same meeting but she was coming to the crossroads from a completely different direction.  Understanding that direction let me put the feedback into context – and let me re-examine the confrontation with the coworker in a new way.

Did I learn from it?  Absolutely.  I learned how easy it is to have a different perspective of the path. Even in our own minds and our heart.  And I learned that for mine to work together, sometimes I have to give them a bit of space.

And now… I have to take my 15 year old to Popeye’s… some buffalo chicken is calling our name.