NLP

by Tom Hoobyar

  Sounds simple, right? While it is simple, it’s not always easy. Interestingly, a long pause in a conversation or an extended silence may truly test your ability to step outside yourself and stay focused on the other person. If this feels painfully awkward to you, you might notice that you fill the silence with your own inner chatter. Some of us tend to berate ourselves for that or something we did, saying to ourselves, “Oh, that was a dumb thing to say. Oh, why did I say that? I’m always doing things like that.” After all this chatter, we’re off in our own little world and we’ve left the conversation completely!

  With people you know and trust, you’ve probably found that silence is comfortable, or at least tolerable. You don’t assume it means something. Instead, you just allow the silence, right? You know they might be thinking about what they want to say, thinking about something else entirely, or not really thinking about much of anything! When it happens during conversation, particularly if it’s the other person’s turn to say something, just smile at them. If the silence has more intention than a pause, you can always explore it if you want to.

  Zoom Out: Visit Second and Third Positions to Get Perspective

  Once in a while when you’re asking questions and exploring someone’s world, they may be thinking, “Wow, the way this person is approaching me is really different.” They may like it and feel felt, or they may feel a little vulnerable because the way you interact is unfamiliar and more personal. If they’re really uncomfortable, they may send you subtle signals to back off. When you get this feedback, just notice it. Then step back a little and use your nonverbal communication skills to reestablish safety and rapport.

  Similarly, if you hear a remark that puts you off or sparks a bad feeling about yourself, zoom out and disassociate from the remark. Your feelings result from your interpretation, right? So it’s always important to keep in mind that a comment may not have been intended the way you heard it. Avoid engaging in a reaction that’s going to shut down your curiosity and openness, because it will limit your ability to hear and gather information.

  When some people hear a remark that seems critical of them, they get angry. With me, if somebody says, “You shouldn’t have done that,” I simply say, “Oh, I shouldn’t have done what?” (Of course, tone is all important here.) Rather than sounding defensive, I try to show that I’m genuinely curious and interested about this person’s concern.

  In response to my request for more information, they might say, “You shouldn’t have talked so angrily to that person.”

  “Hmm . . . what did I say that made you feel I was angry?” Notice how this question is simply gathering information about their model of the world. I’m not arguing with them. I’m not denying anything. I’m just gathering information.

  They might say, “Well, you said this and this and this in that tone of voice.” Once I understand how they reached their conclusion about my behavior, I can either try to correct the impression I meant to give, or I can ask myself, “You know, if I were that person, how might my behavior have seemed?” Going into second position like this allows me to try on whatever was described to me. When I do this, I’m using my own body as an instrument to gauge how that behavior might have looked, sounded, or felt.

  Then I might think, “You’re right. If I had heard that in that tone of voice from a guy like me, that would have made me feel pretty yucky; so I’m going to apologize to them. Thanks for bringing that to my attention.” This allows me to have a very sane reaction, right? It’s not a big deal, and it doesn’t need to become a problem between me and the person who’s sharing their interpretation of something I did, or didn’t, do.

  Here’s another example. Sometimes because I’m so passionate about NLP, I really get on a roll and it’s hard to shut me up. If, in response to my oversharing, somebody said, “You’re pretty stuck on this stuff, aren’t you? You think you know everything,” I’d probably go into third position (objective observer) and say, “What specifically do I do that makes you think I think I know everything?” In asking this, I’m going to get some behavioral feedback that may or may not be useful. What I hear may teach me something about me, or it may teach me something about the other person. Either way, my mind-set is that I’m going to enjoy getting that information.

  Then, with genuine interest, not defensiveness, I’ll say, “Hmm, I don’t think I know everything about NLP. What makes you think I know everything about NLP? Did I say something like that?”

  My openness and curiosity in these kinds of conversations are echoed in my nonverbal communication. My posture and facial expressions are saying, “I’m open and safe.” My tone is sincere and curious. If these visual and auditory cues were incongruent, it would make the other person uncomfortable.

  Slow Down: Watch for Yellow Lights of Incongruence

  In a perfect universe, people would be congruent and it would be easier to get a sense of their distinct inner realities. But we’re human, so we’re not always consistent. I’m certainly not! As a refresher, someone’s ambivalence may result from something simple, like having to choose between going to a great concert or going parasailing. Or it may indicate an internal conflict or some violation of their values.

  When people are incongruent, we read that like it’s a flashing yellow light. Each of us has internal radar that sorts for “Something’s wrong with this picture—slow down, be careful.” People notice our incongruity, and you want to notice theirs. Because people are always communicating in three channels—visual, auditory, and kinesthetic—you get a lot of information to evaluate. And when what someone is saying doesn’t match your experience of them, it’s a good time to give them some space or ask them questions.

  Imagine, for example, that you see someone you know at a party and they seem a little off. They’re saying, “Oh, it’s really good to see you,” but they’re looking past you or they’re leaning away from you. In this situation, how would you feel? You might conclude that they didn’t really want to see you, they’d rather be talking with someone else, or that something’s wrong with you.

  Because you kind of know this person and sense that something’s off, you might say, “Is everything okay?” and they say, “Sure, I’m fine.” If they say this in an irritated voice, that’s incongruity again, right? Sometimes honest sympathy will ventilate the issue. Just asking, “Is anything troubling you? Is there anything I can do?” can be helpful.

  You might hear “No, it’s not a big deal. My boyfriend said he’d be here on time and he’s not here yet and I know he forgot that today’s my birthday and I’m just pissed at him.” Or “No, no, it’s nothing. I have something on my mind. My wife’s having surgery and I’m waiting for a call.” So you may find out that what people were too polite to tell you was troubling them, or you may not. If I get two or three denials in the face of my earnest concern, then I respect their privacy and I leave it alone.

  When someone’s tone of voice, posture, facial expression, or body language, and your sense of their energy, don’t match their words, it’s often a reflection of some kind of inner conflict.

  Here’s a simple example. Last week I was watching an actress being interviewed on a talk show. I was fascinated to notice that her body was incongruent, top to bottom. Her feet were under the chair. Her knees were away from the person she was talking to. Her hands were folded very comfortably in front of her. Her shoulders and head were turned to the host. Because she was listening and seemed relaxed, she seemed very comfortable in her conversation.

  Although her hands and her face appeared relaxed, her lower body looked frozen, like she didn’t really want to be there. She was very incongruent. As I watched her, I stepped into second position and actually put my body in this incongruent position. Boy, was that uncomfortable! When I stepped back into first position, I imagined that she was probably very committed to making a point or selling whatever movie she was there to promote. But part of her, the deeper inner part of her, really wished she didn’t have to be there.
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  When I see this kind of incongruity in someone I’m interacting with, the only thing I know for certain is that this is a person who needs a better level of comfort. Usually I’m up for helping them get that. And if they are, too, I do. If not, I don’t take it personally.

  Noticing incongruity is critical to establishing or maintaining rapport, and to gathering good information. Whenever you notice incongruence or some evidence of conflict, slow down and be cautious. You may be stepping into a busy intersection—simply because that person has some kind of conflict going on at that time, which may have nothing at all to do with you.

  Think of this advice as framework for the adventure of exploring someone’s world.

  Detective Mode:

  How Questions Fill in Gaps and Facilitate Understanding

  When people talk about an experience, their verbal description will be incomplete. Let’s zero in on language itself for a moment. As you know, it’s really just shorthand; it’s efficient, but it leaves gaps. In Chapter 4, you learned how you naturally delete information. Now you’ll notice, really notice, how often other people do it, too.

  In NLP, the Meta Model is a way of recovering missing information when you’re being asked to fill in the blanks. Here are some examples that illustrate gaps and what you might say to get more information so you can understand their experience.

  If somebody tells you, “I had a terrible time at that party,” go inside yourself and see what you get. Can you make a representation of that? If it’s even kind of fuzzy, you immediately know you need more information, like who, what, where, when, how, why. In your picture of the party, many of those details were missing, right?

  Clue: Unspecified Nouns and Verbs

  Because so many pieces of the puzzle were missing, you could ask lots of different questions. You could start by asking, “Which party?” (surprise: it may not be the one you both just attended) and get some more details about the party itself. Or, in contrast to gathering these facts, you could say, “When you say you had a terrible time at the party, what made it a bad time? What happened that made it a negative experience?”

  Sometimes, despite well-intentioned body language and tone, when you ask someone such a direct question, it can sound like you’re challenging them. To soften your questions, you can frame them with “Can you tell me?” or “I’m curious,” or “I’d like to know.”

  In addition to missing people, places, and things, some people’s descriptions are missing actions or processes. Imagine, for a moment, that your boss told you, “This is completely wrong.” There are lots of possible reactions you might have, right? You could be frustrated, defensive, angry, indifferent, or anything in between. Those reactions would come from being in your world and filling in the blanks.

  But if you tried to make a picture of what went wrong by stepping out of your reality and into your supervisor’s, all you know is that something isn’t the way he wanted it. Simply saying, “Well, okay, what was supposed to be done?” will fill in the what and the how.

  If he said, “Well, the pages are supposed to be stapled along the top, and these are all stapled on the left edge,” now you have useful information, right? And based on this, you can decide or discuss next steps.

  This kind of communication happens all the time, doesn’t it? It’s kind of amazing that misunderstandings aren’t even more commonplace than they are. If you adjust your attention to pick up this information, you’ll be astonished at how much missing information there is in the things people tell you, and how easily you can fill in the gaps.

  Clue: You Can’t Put It in a Wheelbarrow

  Here’s another example of how meanings are hidden. These are action or process words that are turned into things, like frustration, production, knowledge, and freedom. Those descriptions really ought to be verbs or adjectives such as frustrating, produce, knowing, and be free. So, in NLP, when somebody uses these kinds of words, we call them “Nominalizations.”

  A nominalization is an abstraction that is undefined. Now, what’s hiding in this bit of jargon is a powerful concept. It’s something theoretical pretending to be something with a real existence. An easy way to recognize a nominalization is to ask, “Can I put it in a wheelbarrow?” It’s like truth, beauty, and the American way. None of us really knows exactly what those things mean because they’re pretty abstract.

  If somebody says, “This is another day of frustration,” you’d have to say, “Oh, who’s frustrated?” When the person says, “I’m frustrated!” then you can say, “What was it that made you feel frustrated?” “I worked all day to get the proposal out this afternoon, then the delivery guy didn’t pick it up in time to get to the prospect by the deadline.”

  Ah, now you have a better understanding of that person’s frustration, right? The lesson here is don’t understand too quickly. It’s really important that you slow way down, and then you’ll get an accurate sense of what’s going on in the other person’s head. If you try something on, either by making a picture of it, or sensing how it feels, you’ll know if you have enough information.

  I have a friend who often tells me a story and ends it with “See what I mean?” And then we’ll laugh because we do this dance all the time. We’ve been friends a long time, so she’s used to me saying, “No, I don’t really know what you mean, but I want to. Let me tell you what I think I heard you say and I’ll ask a few questions so you can help me fill in the gaps, okay?”

  Clue: Always/Never, All/None, Everyone/No One

  Another way that people leave out details is by using what we call “Universals.” For instance, when you hear somebody use words like all, none, everyone, never, or always, you know that’s really exaggeration, right? Other than gravity, there are VERY few things that are always so.

  Here are some examples. “You never help me” or “His family always hates me; nothing I do ever pleases them.” Or “I’m never going to learn to use this computer program.”

  When most people use these words, they’re usually describing behaviors. These universals show the limits of that person’s world, the limits they’re experiencing at a specific time or about a specific subject or person.

  In these situations, you can really do someone a favor by injecting a little good-humored perspective with questions like “Really? All the time?” or “Really? You’ve never ever done anything right, ever?” When I ask these questions, it’s usually with kind of a half smile. What I get in return is kind of “Well, yeah, sometimes I get things right, yeah, maybe when I was fifteen.” Now they’re laughing, you’re joking, and the two of you can get back to reality because those universals are “never” realistic.

  Clue: Have To, Should, Must, Need

  Another information gap that’s less obvious is when people can say, “I have to do this. I’ve got to be there. I should call them. I really must meet the deadline.” When they’re using those kinds of words, these seem reasonable and you might be tempted to just accept them at face value. Yet if you did, you wouldn’t really have a complete picture. To get one, you could say, “Hmm, I’m curious, what would happen if you didn’t do it?”

  Well, most likely something would happen if they didn’t get it done . . . maybe they’d get a fine . . . maybe they’d get a lower grade on a paper . . . maybe they would miss a birthday. But the world wouldn’t end. And maybe nothing would happen, no one would notice, and that would be a different kind of something to deal with.

  Here’s the thing. In the human mind, when you say words like have to, must, or can’t, what your brain does is stop at that word and think, “Okay, I can’t, because if I do the universe is going to end. I’m going to die. It’s all going to be terrible.” Whenever you hear somebody using these words, called words of “Impossibility” or words that are “Required,” the best thing to do is to invite the person to examine their limitation. Asking, “What prevents you from doing it?” or “What would it be like if you could do it?” encourages the brain to consider other possibi
lities.

  Clue: Absence of Criteria or Evidence

  Another glimpse you might get into a person’s world is when they say, “Oh, it’s bad,” or you hear them say, “It’s all good.” What’s all good? In NLP, we call this the “Lost Performer.” Who is the judge of whether something is good or bad? How do you know it’s good? “That’s the best kind.” “That’s a fact.” Really—according to whom? In each of these examples, there are big information gaps.

  If a woman says, “My husband certainly loves me,” you can say, “Oh, that’s wonderful. How do you know he loves you? How does he show his love?” and then she’ll tell you what, in her inner world, means he loves her. “It’s because he said so this morning, because he bought me a ring, or because he always takes out the garbage.”

  Clue: Effect with No Known Cause

  The last illustration of a person’s limitation is called “Cause-Effect.” Imagine that somebody says, “He made me angry.” You’d want to know how that happened, right? So you’d ask. In response, they might say, “Well, it was his tone of voice.” Now you’d probably ask what his tone was like, and they might say, “He was just abrupt and pissy with me.”

  By asking questions, you can start unpacking people’s conclusion-making and find out whether that’s really an accurate conclusion. You can discover if that’s something they believe, and if it is, that’s useful. And if it’s not, it allows the other person to give you more information.