Separation

In truth there is but one problem and therefore only one answer ... the root problem is separation.

~Peter Erbe

The Human Story

We chose to introduce this book with our personal stories not to garner sympathy or set ourselves apart in our suffering, but because they serve to illustrate the larger human story. As leaders in the coaching field, we've both taught and trained all over the world, hearing life stories from many people across many cultures. The essence of the stories is the same — do I belong? Am I good enough? Am I a part of things? The experience of separation and the fear of not belonging is universal, and it affects us in every area of our lives.

This sense of separateness affects our professional careers, our family life and has a profound impact on every relationship we have. In this chapter, we'll explore the many ways we experience separateness as human beings — from ourselves, from each other, from life and nature, and from however we choose to define and inhabit our spiritual lives.

Separation from Self

For most, life is a search for the proper manila envelope in which to get oneself filed.

~Clifton Fadiman

It's heartbreakingly common to feel separate from oneself, not fully knowing our own passions and preferences, living lives out of synch with our natures and misaligned from a sense of true purpose. Even pondering the question "why am I here?" takes a fair amount of courage, and thus is not something many of us do in our day-to-day lives.

It's interesting to note that a recent study found human beings feel the unease known as "existential angst" in the same area of the brain associated with both physical pain and the pain of social rejection. It's painful and distressing to ponder the meaning — or meaninglessness — we fear is inherent in our lives, and thus most of us generally avoid it, staying separate from ourselves, never really knowing our own core.

We come by this honestly, as most societies encourage a "go along to get along" approach to life, rewarding those who fit in and punishing those who don't. Modern public schools as we know them were designed to create workers who are ready to fit into existing systems, and even to this day far too often prefer to have children sit in rows without asking too many questions.

Karen knows the impact of needing to fit in and please. Growing up as the eldest of three in a military family, she learned to help out, stand up straight, and appear neat, pressed, and well behaved at all times, meanwhile never developing the capacity to know what she wanted and needed herself. "The summer I was seventeen, I was deciding where to apply to college. I wasn't sure whether I wanted to go to a large campus with lots of people and activities, or somewhere more intimate, quiet and small. And as I thought about it, I realized that, not only did I not know, I had no idea where to look to find out. I had no tools for understanding or knowing what I, from inside myself, truly preferred."

Karen's dilemma illustrates a common human problem: when we are encouraged (or required) to focus our efforts on getting along and fitting in, how do we determine what we ourselves want? And if we don't know what we want, how do we ever know who we are? And if we don't know what we want or who we are, how do we contribute our unique value to the world?

In 1968, George Land gave 1,600 five-year-olds a creativity test used by NASA to select innovative engineers and scientists. He then retested the same children at ages ten and fifteen. The test results were amazing: at age five, 98% of children registered genius level creativity; 30% at age 10; and only 12% at age 15. The same test given to 280,000 adults placed their genius level creativity at only 2%. This study shows us that noncreative behavior is learned, that creativity is inherent in human beings, our very birthright. In losing this, we lose ourselves.

Years ago Karen was planting marigolds with her five-year-old niece. She put the seed packet on a stick to mark the rows, and her niece turned it around to face the flowers. "Why did you do that, honey?" Karen asked. "Because otherwise they don't know what they should look like," her niece replied.

We have learned, even at young ages, to look outside ourselves to see who we are supposed to be, what we're supposed to wear, what we're supposed to look like. We grow up knowing what is "right" in whatever society we are raised, but often not knowing who we really are. And we shut ourselves down in shame, afraid who we are is not good enough, not right, not the norm. We try to take up less space, apologizing for who we are, betraying our own truth and abandoning our precious selves. As Brené Brown, the well-known researcher on shame and resilience, reflects, "When we are feeling shame, the camera is zoomed in tight, and all we see is our flawed selves, alone and struggling. We think to ourselves, 'I'm the only one. Something is wrong with me. I am alone.'"

Separation from Each Other

We have all these devices that keep us connected, and yet we're more disconnected than ever before. Why is that? ~Emilio Estevez

We not only feel this deep separation from ourselves, but from one another as well, both personally and globally. Because we don't really know ourselves, too often we don't really know and see those around us either, even friends or family, not to mention people very unlike ourselves.

One of the things that is inspiring (and perhaps a little sad) is how amazed people are when they realize how much deeper and rewarding relationships in their lives can be. We see it in the classroom during CTI coaching courses as people easily bond and connect much more deeply than they are accustomed to. Coaching clients also often comment how quickly they end up confiding in their coaches, opening their hearts with true vulnerability. It's as if we are all dying of thirst in the desert and have forgotten water exists. Somehow it has become "normal" to feel disconnected and remarkable to feel connection.

Even though we have methods of communication that easily bridge continents, we are losing more and more of any sort of feeling of community. We manage from afar, have "virtual" meetings, and call it more productive. One of Ann's coaching clients struggled with managing a direct report who was in a different city (a more and more common practice). "I don't really know her," he said. "She's worked for me for a year now and she does a good job, but we don't have that 'pull the plow together' sort of relationship I've been able to create with others." He went on to add, "I never thought the little things mattered that much, the quick chat by the coffeemaker, even walking down...