You know those stages of moral development you learn about in Psych 101? – Kohlberg, I think, is the name of one of their theorists. The idea is that each stage of development more aptly responds to moral dilemmas (read: works better for facing such things) than the stage that precedes it. And that each stage is a natural and necessary step along the path to the next one.
I’m wondering whether there might be identifiable stages in trust development as well, and whether it could be life-transformingly helpful to name them and situate ourselves among them in the various situations where we face fear. Something about honoring where we’re at while simultaneously recognizing that more effective ways of dealing with fear lie further on is both hopeful and comforting to me. It’s like wind at my back, taking me more quickly down the road toward trust than I’d otherwise naturally move.
I haven’t thought enough about this idea to offer a theory (yet!), but I want to try a test case with the mere idea of it.
I’m wondering whether fear of failure – which is so ubiquitous when starting or dreaming about something new – could be an arena where trust could grow this way:
- Fears of failure shift from being subconscious to conscious.
- Definitions of what failure means shift from being broad and encompassing to being much more narrowly focused.
- Failure becomes an antiquated label and a concept that, for lack of accuracy and usefulness, falls out of use altogether.
I personally oscillate between stage one and two most of the time.
So what if, according to this model, this definition of failure:
Could helpfully shift into this definition of failure*:
And eventually become something more like this:
What if, in the new things we start or dream about doing, we look around at the first definition above, thank it for being a step along the way, and then continue on our way toward greater trust?
Everything Belongs
Seasons are universal. Treat yours uniquely.
To put it into a framework of “developmental stages” is a great idea. I’ll bet there’s fertile ground there, and I’ll bet you could even use the already commonly recognized developmental stages as touchstones, as it were.
On another note, here’s something I’d like to see addressed this month: Sometimes the old lizard-like survival-oriented part of our brains (I forget the name of the physical part of the brain where they suppose it’s located, but everyone is familiar with the kind of thoughts it produces) seems to fear, not just failure, but the new thing itself, i.e. ANYTHING new. Certainly you would think a genetic-psychological predisposition toward safe knowns, as opposed to risky new unknowns, would’ve served well for survival purposes in ancient times. But when it carries over into places where survival isn’t truly on the line, that’s where it gets to be overkill and limiting. So it seems like this entire trust thing in a nutshell might be the attempt to short-circuit or tame this old conservative survival-obsessed, newness-averse part of the brain… whaddya think?
Comment by Rol — April 10, 2011 @ 7:25 pmRol, that sounds really right to me! The thought I might add is that while our lizard brains have their own hardwiring, they (or maybe some other part of our brain? – need to look it up!) also have a lifetime of data points that seem to support and endorse their reactions to newness. So the work of tending trust feels like shining all (or even just some) of those data points in different lights so that when our lizard brains reach for them in support of fight-or-flight, they have way, way less to reach for, and in fact may inadvertently grab onto something that makes them feel all safe and cozy instead. I get the biggest kick out of reframing the very experiences that left/leave me in knots in ways that give me hope and make me feel able to learn and do something positive with whatever happens.
Maybe all of this is what you’re saying already; I’m just connecting dots in my own mind and trying understand what the work of tending trust is actually doing.
You have me so curious to learn more about neuropathways and what’s actually being changed in our brains as we learn to trust.
Thanks for your reflection; I’m going to think more about it and see whether a post gets written in response!
Comment by Kristin — April 10, 2011 @ 8:41 pmOh – such richness here! And a sudden desperate need to connect you with my dear friend Tink (http://tinkstephenson.com/ or @Tink_Stephenson on Twitter) who quoted a monk on her blog today saying: “Fear nothing except the failure to experience your true nature.”
AND who organised an evening for women here in Wellington last week with a guest speaker on neuropathways and what actually happens in our brains when we encounter stress and change.
Bing!
Comment by Marianne — April 10, 2011 @ 9:31 pmGah! Wow!! Thanks so much for this connection, Marianne!!!
Comment by Kristin — April 10, 2011 @ 9:53 pmAnd how delightful to meet you too Kristin! Synchronicity indeed. Your wonderfully perceptive post resonates in so many ways I’m not going attempt to reply here, except to suggest a skype conversation sometime soon so that we can connect a few more dots.
(Thank you lovely Marianne, for the connection.)
Comment by Tink — April 10, 2011 @ 10:37 pmDone! :)
I’ll email you and we can set something up.
Comment by Kristin — April 10, 2011 @ 10:42 pmI love this idea, that rather than fighting something that just is, we learn to transform it into something more productive. Of course our thinking is a great way to do that, and with this one post you’ve really inspired me to fully consider this idea and how I could slowly integrate it as a natural mindset.
Comment by Christine @ Coffees and Commutes — April 11, 2011 @ 10:42 amChristine, I’m shouting a big YESSS inside. :) Reminds me of what little I’ve learned about the martial art Aikido, where instead of meeting resistance with force, you use the momentum of the resistance itself to take it to a different place. Seems not only less exhausting than the use of force, but potentially more effective, too.
Comment by Kristin — April 11, 2011 @ 11:31 am[...] about overcoming fear and developing trust in ourselves, others, and our world. She suggests that failure helps us develop trust. As we try new things, we develop greater trust and confidence in ourselves, others, and the world. [...]
Pingback by Failure Is Not What We Think It Is | rainbow gryphon — June 17, 2011 @ 6:17 amThis article is beautiful in every sense of the word.
I’m just wondering, how did you come up with your redefinition? I ask because you must have found a way through all that jumbling chaos, to come out with something spot on & concise. You got to the bottom of it.
How?
Comment by Burke — July 7, 2011 @ 5:11 pmBurke, I’m not sure what all to point to, but one book that caused an ENORMOUS shift inside of me when I first read it and that continues to change me daily is called “Mindsets”, by Stanford prof, Carol Dweck. She’s done some amazing research to uncover the mindset that leads to positive, hopeful responses to what some might call failure, and what mindset leads to shame and fear in response to “failure” (or even in response to the very *thought* of it). The book feels a bit repetitive at times, but I swear, the results of reading it are totally worth the effort.
Comment by Kristin — July 7, 2011 @ 8:46 pm