“Our brains are pattern-recognition
machines and belief-forming engines. We connect the dots and form beliefs about
the patterns we think we find.”
Michael
Shermer
We all have stories about ourselves and the world around us.
The patterns and beliefs that Shermer refers to above form the basis for our
personal and collective narratives, and those narratives provide a sense of
clarity and certainty for each of us. They help us make sense of the world so
that we can cope psychologically, and they provide valuable advantages so we
can survive physically. (After all, those of our ancestors who could infer a
connection between rustling bushes and lurking lions lived to breed another
day.)
While this capability serves some very necessary functions,
it can also cause us to become stuck in outdated narratives. Since the brain
loves patterns, and will create them even when they don’t exist, our Story
quickly becomes calcified: We form opinions and beliefs and prejudices about
ourselves and our world that, even if they were accurate when first formed, can
quickly become obsolete. Behaviors based on our Story quickly become habitual
and when the world changes around us we often react to it in inappropriate and
ineffective ways.
When working with my
clients I help them expose the persistent themes of their Story—the collection of
micro- and macro-narratives; tales large and small about themselves, their
coworkers, the business climate, or life in general—that may be hampering their
growth. Of course, their Ennea-type is at the heart of their Story; it’s the
prism through which they see the world and it colors everything, and
recognizing their Ennea-type and the role it plays in shaping their thoughts,
feelings, and behaviors is invaluable in efforts to improve. Once they
understand their unconscious and habitual story they can become active
dismantlers and rebuilders: challenging their own assumptions and beliefs when
they see the influence of Ennea-type and rewriting their Story in adaptive ways
rather than continuing along maladaptive paths. Rather than being characters in
the story of their lives they learn to become active and deliberate authors of
the Story, taking control and re-scripting the narrative with more-adaptive
themes.
While most of my clients become interested in the Enneagram,
only a few become aficionados. Oddly enough, this light embrace works to their
advantage in some ways because they use the Enneagram to recognize its affect
on their worldview, make some changes to the way they see their world, and then
go back to living their lives. The danger of being an Enneagram aficionado is
that our perception of our type and the types of others can become a new,
just-as-calcified story. It can become simply another form of habitual,
stereotypic thinking that we should be trying to eradicate.
Zen teacher Sunryu Suzuki Roshi once said, “Zen is like
soap: use it to clean, but then rinse it off.” The Enneagram should be used the
same way; but often the opposite is the case. If you’ve been to a conference or
workshop you’ve seen the behavior: People seem to love their type, regaling
others with evidence that shows they are a Six or a Nine or a Three,
breathlessly pointing out when someone demonstrates type-related behavior,
debating the Ennea-types of the people in their lives or on TV. It becomes a
badge of honor, almost, and witnessing it I can’t shake the image of people
caked in suds.
It’s understandable behavior, of course; the Enneagram is a
mesmerizing tool and can make us feel like we are seeing life clearly for the
first time. Once we have this clear vision we fear losing it, so we hold on to
it. We seem to see a deeper layer to the people around us, and the Enneagram
becomes like a decoder ring, helping us to fathom the otherwise strange-seeming
behavior of our fellow travelers. We benefit so much that we want to share it
with the people we care about and, like most converts, we can become a bit
obsessive.
But it’s very easy for the Enneagram to become a central
part of a new but similarly calcified Story about our world. We believe a
coworker is a Three so we assume all of her actions are driven by a focus on
image and surely she couldn’t do charitable work because how could a Three find
success in that, and, now that you mention it, I never did trust her because we
know Threes are “deceitful.”
Such automated and clichéd characterizations rob us of the
opportunity to see the individuals around us as they truly are: complex and
contradictory and human. They lead us to make inaccurate assessments about
people as we start to believe the Enneagram is some sort of fool-proof
predictive model that will tell us everything a person can and will do, rather
than seeing it as a descriptive model that helps us to understand past behavior
in a deeper context or to be open, responsive, and non-judgmental in the
present moment.
A case in point: At a recent conference someone asked me to
read an article, prefacing the request with the assurance that it was short and
he knew that I was an Eight and that “Eights aren’t readers.” I couldn’t
imagine that someone who would say that could write anything I’d be interested
in reading and the article in fact remained unread.
Worse still, these characterizations are simply boring. Each
time I hear someone say something to the effect of “Oh, I’m such a Seven!” I
simply want to scream.
Don’t get me wrong, I’m not trying to disaffect the reader
from the Enneagram; nor am I saying that our knowledge of the Enneagram should
not be used in our daily lives. I love the Enneagram and I doubt an hour goes
by when I don’t think about it in one way or another: I’m on the board of
directors of the IEA; I’ve co-authored a book about the Enneagram; the
Enneagram is central to my work. But we must be careful that the Enneagram does
not become another static, repetitive Story for us. We must ensure that we use
it to help us see our maladaptive habitual patterns and begin to dismantle them
so we can respond to life more openly and appropriately. We should use it to
understand the traps that others can sometimes fall into and to ensure that we
are more compassionate toward them in our interactions. Each time we feel the
nagging dis-ease or frictions brought about by unsatisfying relationships with
the people around it, we should pull out the Enneagram and give ourselves a
quick scrub, followed by a thorough rinse.
Walt Whitman proudly wrote “I contradict myself; I am large,
I contain multitudes.” He also understood himself, and a central truth about
human nature. We should embrace those same qualities about ourselves.
So, should be meet, don’t tell me your Story, but do tell me
about yourself: the unscripted you, not the type-bound cliché. I’ll probably
see your Ennea-type, given time, but let me see the multitudes, the real you,
the one that contradicts and surprises even yourself.
That’s how I’ll know the Enneagram has really taken root in your life.
Mario Sikora