The Peaceful Pugilist: First steps in learning to love conflict
So what about this issue of conflict? And what about this notion that you could
actually love conflict? What does that
mean, going out and joyfully picking fights?
Or relishing squabbling with colleagues?
Or not doing the dishes at home in eager anticipation of our spouse
getting home and flipping out? Is it
actually possible to have anything but a, well, conflictual relationship to
conflict?
First, I believe the answer is a definitive "yes!" but want
to distinguish that optimism from any idea that loving conflict is an easy
task. Also, what I mean by conflict
needs to be defined. Basically,
conflict here is that state/situation where two or more forces come together
disharmoniously. It's not what we think
about that meeting, or how we may habitually react, or how our
family/culture/society tells us we should
act. Those are actually all
after-the-fact responses. What comes
first is the contact that sparks; what
we then do with it is another matter.
The reasons for not
loving conflict are manifold, but what I want to stress is that we are actually
reacting to the associations to
conflict, not to the primal experience itself.
In other words, our experiences of the "state/situation where two or
more forces come together disharmoniously" are the real problem. Which actually is quite good, because given
the state of the world, if we could not make peace with conflict because we had
no choice about how to respond, then given how often things come into conflict,
we'd be in pretty sorry straights.
Most people I've met, especially those struggling with the
wild moods of anxiety and depression, do not have positive associations with
"conflict." Some have a cluster of
memories from their childhood, of conflict between parents leading to violence
or chaos or the breaking of the family.
Others have a difficult-to-define sense that allowing conflict is either
just wrong, or will lead to some deep
destruction. Others, when meeting
conflict, react with a fear that itself is so threatening, they overcompensate
and come to look, from the outside, habitually aggressive and bullying.
But the short of it is:
conflict means something terrible.
But does conflict have to be experienced this way? And if not, how do we develop a different,
more accepting and loving, relationship to this ubiquitous experience?
And why would I want to do this?
Changing our relationship to the experience of conflict involves, first, simply recognizing the
difference between the "primal" experience, and what we've learned to think about
that experience. We can't change the
existence of conflict, but we can certainly reassess our beliefs and change
them.
For instance, take a not-so-overwhelming conflict, say, a 3
on a scale of 1-10. Maybe that's an
office disagreement, or a tiff with your partner, whatever it might be in your
life. The next time it happens, see if
you can feel the actual signature of
conflict as you experience it. Does it
cause tension in your belly? Is there a
surge of energy? Does your face flush? Whatever it may be (everyone will have
different experiences), notice how the body registers conflict just as a
pattern of sensations. Then see if you
can catch the thoughts that arise about
this embodied conflict. What is the
interpretation of this event, for you, in the moment? Is it, "I need to win this no matter
what." Or, "This is going to get out of
control if I don't do something." Or
perhaps, "I need to throw this match in order to win the game."
The point of this is not to process through the beliefs
(that's more the realm of your work with a therapist), but as just a small
illustration of the difference between the core, embodied, experience of
conflict, and what then comes after in the form of interpretation or belief.
This is the bedrock experience for beginning to love
conflict, because as you deepen the experience of the "primal conflict," you
come to realize that there's actually a gap between the body's registering of
the conflict, of "things clashing," and what thoughts arise to explain it. And seeing this gap, this essential
separation of these mental and physical events, you get to challenge your
belief: "Well, ok, but is that
true? If I don't shut my opinions down
in this conflict with my boss, will I really
suffer something dire?"
And that is the breathing room that will expand over time,
so that when conflict comes, you are not immediately thrown into reactive
mode. Your mind gets to ponder the
experience for a longer period of time before the fight-or-flight circuits get
flipped on.
And it's in this gap between the base experience and the
reaction that lays the fertile soil for a love of conflict to arise.
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