Harmonizing with Words Amidst Conflict

Conflict. It's everywhere. It can be as extreme as bullets flying, or it can be a low key as a few harsh words. Regardless of the scale, it always begins somewhere. Then it escalates as emotions start to spiral out of control. Next thing you know, someone pops.

I work as a online forum moderator. Dealing with conflict is a part of the job. It's not a bad part; I actually like it. It's a headache going through the process, but when it's done I find we are usually better off than when we started. Over the years, I have developed my own approach. I find it interesting how much it reflects what I learn in Aikido. In many respects, the principles are the same.

Connect with the other: The most important part of conflict management is trying to understand where the other person is coming from. Listen, and listen deeply. While doing so, suspend judgement.

Connect with yourself: Know where you are coming from, which includes your bias and where you are emotionally. A strong sense of self will keep you from being pulled in by the other's emotional whirlwind.

Draw the other into your center: When communicating your perspective, make sure to use "I" messages. Tell them "I see this" or "I feel that."  Avoid "you" messages.  When emotions start to flare, the fight or flight reaction kicks in. As you tell others what you see and feel, it draws them out of their own perspective. This pulls them out of their emotions and into rational thought. Effectively you are moving them from their center of power into yours.

Do not fight force with force, but accept it: An angry person can use hostile language. The temptation is to return the favor. However, rather than pushing back, receive the energy. The person before you is giving part of her or himself to you. Consider this a gift, rather than a threat.

Move into the void: In conflict, two forces of stability exist: them and you. Both would rather prefer their own foundation. The void is where neither of you are. That is precisely where you need to go, together. When the two of you go on a journey where neither of you have been, you are entering a new world of creative solutions. You don't necessarily know where you will go next, but the mutual sense of vulnerability becomes a tie that binds.

Nurture malice and transform it into compassion: Fights end with winners and losers. Whenever someone enters into conflict, they need to win because the only other option is to lose. This fear of loss is what keeps conflict going. Angry energy, once accepted, can be transformed. Once another has seen our point of view and considered with us creative possibilities, they have the option of letting go of the anger. But, they can only do that if they feel safe. That's why it's important to walk into conflict without seeing the other as something to be dominated.  In conflict, it takes two to tango.  If your desire is not to win, then the other cannot lose. Once the other realizes that, it becomes okay to let go of the negative emotions.

Intent matters: Perhaps this is the most important one of them all. If someone tries to draw you into conflict and you desire to dominate and feel powerful, then the situation will indeed become critical. If, however, you see the situation as an unfortunate side effect of an inability to work together, then you have an opportunity before you. If you see the other as an enemy, then an enemy that person will remain.  If however, you see before you another who struggles with fear while feeling threatened, then your entire posture changes. When our intent is such that we seek to truly connect with another, we can begin to identify with that person. When we identify with another, that which becomes possible is love.  Love does not seek to win; it seeks to flow and flourish. As we allow it to do so, new possibilities emerge and new life is found.

Those are only a few of the principles that translate from Aikido to conflict management. As I reflect here, my point isn't to draw out all of the similarities. I'll let someone else do that.  Rather, the point is to try to look at Aikido principles in a more holistic way. Yes, they are strong foundations for powerful technique on the mats. But, they can be more than that, if we allow them to. For me, Aikido isn't just about centering, imbalancing, and locking. It's about living. When I practice Aikido, I do so in order to participate in a more creative, harmonizing love. That's my intent, anyway.

Aikido as Divine Liturgy

Founder of Aikido
Morihei Ueshiba (O Sensei)

For half my life (about 20 years) I've been fascinated with the martial art Aikido (which can be translated as "the way of the spirit of harmony").  I was introduced to it in my mid-20s.  At first, it confused me.  I thought martial arts were about taping into one's inner animal, unleashing it, and overpowering one's opponent, thus winning the fight.  Aikido turned all of that on its head.  In class, I heard things like, "You want to take care of your uke (the person you are throwing)," and "Don't do that, because you could hurt someone.  Do this instead."  I was confused, yet enthralled.

I only studied the art a few months before life changes made it too difficult for me to attend any longer.  But it was enough to for me to realize that this was the art I wanted to study.  So I didn't study anything else until I found a class in my area a little more than a year ago.   It has been a great joy to return to the martial art I love most.  

When practicing Aikido, techniques begin with an "uke" attacking a "nage".  In contrast to many arts, the nage's mindset is not one of defensiveness toward an enemy.  Even though uke's attack is (theoretically) that of malice, nage perceives the relationship as one of mutuality and partnership.  When the attack comes in with its malicious energy, the nage accepts the energy as a gift by absorbing it in some way (or at least not impeding it).  The nage then blends her energy with the aggressive energy, thus redirecting it into her center to make it her own.  Once the energy is her own, her concern for the well-being of her aggressor cleanses the energy of malice.  After her perspective and intent have transformed the energy into that of compassion, she returns it back to her uke, her own life-giving gift to him.  

Of course, my life has taken many turns since I first encountered Aikido, one of them being ordination.  Those years of experience have led me to look at this martial art differently. In the early days, I thought of Aikido as merely a non-violent martial art.  Now, I look at it as a magnificent form of liturgy.  

Liturgy, when done well, is far more than "mere ritual."  It is about participating ritualistically in a story of becoming.  In basic Presbyterian liturgy, we begin with an opening call to worship in which the leader calls out to the people, and the people respond.  It's story that begins with a divine word that creates, in this case, a people.  But then we have the confession of sin and assurance of pardon, through which we act out the fall and restoration.  Having been restored, we now listen to the Word of God (the scripture and sermon) with new ears, ears informed by the experience of our fallen/renewed lives.  Having heard our calling, we are then sent out into the world as expressions of the grace that we have received.  

Attentive liturgy has a shaping effect upon our lives.  When we intentionally participate in a story repeatedly, that story helps to shape how we see things and how we respond to them.  Christian liturgy is a story of redemption, a story in which the power of divine love draws in the darkness to itself and transforms it, sending it out again as new light.  Or, to put it another way, it is a story of transforming malice into compassion, of transforming sin into grace. 

What does it mean to become more "human"?  What would the world look like if we were to transcend our bestial drive to survive and the ensuing need to conquer?  It seems that a worship service that relays our calling to become agents who redeem malice through compassion and a martial art that nurtures an attitude of caring for one's neighbors are both wrestling with the same question.  As they wrestle, they tell their stories.  And in their ends, they present new visions of human possibility in which we can all participate.  Whether I partake of cup or twirl people around me, I experience both as liturgical expressions of the Divine. 


Originally posted by author on Evolving Christian Faith Network.