Q:When my grandmother became very ill, my dad and his four siblings struggled to come to an agreement about what was best for their mother. My aunt (the oldest sibling) became very controlling and everyone had a difficult time staying in dialogue with her, including my dad who is exceptional at mastering his stories and building mutual respect and mutual purpose.
This conflict has now ruptured relationships such that after more than thirty years of tradition, we are cancelling my grandma's family Christmas party. I would like to see my dad and his siblings forgive each other and focus on the needs of my grandmother, who is obviously affected the most. How can I help my family overcome past fights and come together for the holidays?
A: I was thinking about your question last week while I took my morning run in the National Mall in Washington, DC. As I ran past the wonderful new Martin Luther King memorial, I screeched to a halt in front of a granite inscription that read, "Darkness cannot drive out darkness; only light can do that. Hate cannot drive out hate; only love can do that."
I've ruminated ever since on the implications of that powerful concept for your situation. Here are some thoughts I hope will help:
1. Patience is the most genuine expression of love. The first thing to keep in mind is that you cannot force forgiveness. You can't compel other people to soften their hearts, examine their own faults, or modify their judgments of others. You have to wait until they want to.
Allowing them to go through the process of challenging their own emotions is an authentic expression of your love for them. It reflects your willingness to patiently wait for the family unity you crave so they can go through the natural process of human growth. Attempting to force the process is more likely to create resistance than reform. Watch—but wait—for signs that others feel some of the loss you feel, then make gentle attempts to help them move forward.
2. Forgiveness is the natural result of a new story. We can't feel differently toward others until we think differently about them—and ourselves. Forgiveness is difficult because we stay stuck in the story we've told ourselves about what happened. As long as we maintain a picture of others' villainy and our own virtue, we feel morally justified in our anger or frustration. We take delight in the suffering we hope the other person is feeling from our withheld affection because we perversely imagine they deserve to suffer or that the suffering is a learning experience. "Perhaps," we reason, "this mutual misery will help them see the error of their ways and become a better human being. I'm a wonderful person for helping them have this life-changing experience!"
Until we intentionally examine our own faults and others' virtues, we feel no need to forgive. The instant we begin this painful but wonderful process, the icy feelings inside us begin to melt. If we continue that process to its natural end, feelings of forgiveness are inevitable. Changing your story is the key to changing your feelings. Don't try to get others to forgive. Instead, help them to challenge their stories. Forgiveness will follow.
3. We'll challenge what we think when we change what we want. Given that challenging our stories is a painful process, why would anyone do so? We do it when our motives change. That's why the first principle of Crucial Conversations is start with heart. When your motives change, your behavior follows naturally. People who resist forgiving are sometimes stuck in self-justifying stories—stories that protect them from the pain of reexamining their view of themselves and others. Sadly, the primary motivator that drags our story into the light is the acute experience of the pain of a lost relationship.
Now, I know your question wasn't about helping yourself forgive, but about facilitating that process in others. So how can we use the principles I outlined above to influence others to forgive? First, don't rush them. That just distracts them from experiencing the pain that could motivate them to change. Second, acknowledge their pain. Affirm the parts of their story you agree with and the hurt they legitimately feel. Third, invite motivation. Let them know you miss the family gatherings and guess they do, too. Tell them you think there is a way back to the former intimacy if they are open to discussion. Then be patient again. Periodically reaffirm the invitation, but don't badger. When they're ready, they'll let you know.
One of two things might happen if you are patient and supportive. First, your family members may just bury the past and reconnect without resolving anything. Perhaps this is an acceptable compromise if all are happy with it. Second, they may respond to your invitation to help. If they take the second route, this will be your big opportunity for a crucial conversation. I'd suggest you invite them to share their story, then request the chance to share a different view of things. Be clear up front that your intent is to help them see what happened differently so they can feel differently, and gain their consent for this process before you dive into it. If they seem resistant, withdraw and assure them you aren't trying to force your view on them. If they are going to change their minds, they will have to invite your influence in doing so.
Our judgments or demands of others won't drive out their stories—just like hate cannot drive out hate and darkness cannot drive out darkness—only love and light can do that. While I don't think there is any special brilliance in these modest suggestions, I hope you discern the heart of them—patience, love, and an appeal to what they really want is the only path to helping people reappraise their stories and reconnect with loved ones.
Joseph Grenny
According to our recent poll, nearly one in ten people know someone who made their boss's naughty list and was fired for inappropriate behavior at an office party.
The poll also revealed the most frequent concerns employees have concerning office parties:
1. How long to stay
2. Socializing with upper management
3. The level of drinking among coworkers
4. How friendly to be with colleagues
5. How to dress
The key word in the expression "office party" is office, not party. You can party almost anywhere you want, but when colleagues, bosses and possibly even clients are around, that is no ordinary party and you'll need to act accordingly.
Here are five tips for surviving your holiday office party:
1. Linger longer—If you can only come for a moment or two, you'd better have a plausible explanation as to where you're going after—and it can't be a more popular or fun-sounding party. When it comes to leaving, take your cue from the majority. Leave when most people are leaving.
2. Make small talk with the big guys—Socializing with upper management is like eating caviar, a small amount should go a long way. When you do chat, keep the topic light and party-relevant. Don't seek recognition or brag. If anything, be the bearer of compliments.
3. Stay sober—Drink what you want in the privacy of your home. But at work, do not lose control. Ever. No matter what others are doing. If you say things to coworkers that you wouldn't say when completely sober, you could pay the consequences for years to come.
4. Keep it casual with coworkers—Obviously, you're expected to be more friendly, jovial, and personal within a party environment. However, if you've been interested in striking up a more friendly and intimate relationship with a special colleague at work, the office party is not the place to take your first shot.
5. Dress to impress—Ask around and find out what others are wearing. The invitation may suggest the attire, but you never know how the suggestion will be translated, so check with your coworkers. Then, dress slightly above the average.
editor
Q: How do you help "undo" a story that another person has held about you? Last fall, my husband went over to borrow an item from our next door neighbor of ten years. They're very nice people—we wave and exchange pleasantries and small talk, we have sent their kids graduation cards, etc. My husband came back concerned. He said they'd received an anonymous hateful letter ten months earlier and they seemed quite convinced that I'd sent it. I was alarmed and went over right away to talk. The letter was truly awful—calling them morons about leaving their holiday lights up well past the holidays and being the laughingstock of the neighborhood. I didn't write this letter and I told them so.
And yet, I still feel like there is an uncomfortable feeling between us. I'm acting as if the whole thing never happened, but feeling self-conscious about it—for example, sending over a dozen cookies when we've baked, acknowledging their kids' accomplishments, etc. These are things we've done in the past that now I fear will be viewed in a different light—like I'm trying to make up for something.
A: First, congratulations. You said you "went over right away to talk." We firmly believe that if you don't talk it out, you act it out. So, way to go. If you had told yourself different stories, you would have acted differently. If you had become upset because you were wrongly accused and had withdrawn in indignation, you would have acted in ways that probably would not have helped—your feelings would have showed up in your facial expressions, in half-hearted greetings, etc. Because thoughts really cannot be held inside (they leak out), people often resort to gossip, and gossip has a hard time being contained—it seeks the lowest level. It has ripple effects that find their way to the person being talked about. So congratulations on telling yourself stories about the other person, about you, and about your relationship that allowed you to go talk about it. Adding to the pool of shared meaning was the right step to take.
There are two questions here that I'd like to address. First, how do we get over situations where we have been wrongly accused of something we didn't do? Second, how can we help others "undo" their story that we wronged them when we really didn't?
First, how do you deal with your emotions when you've been wrongly accused? Key to understanding your options is what we call the path to action. This model helps explain where emotions come from. A brief overview:
The important thing is to explore why the emotions are still lingering. Why are you still worrying about how your neighbor is interpreting your actions and motives? Re-examine your path to action back to your actual observations. Are there more helpful stories you could be telling about what you've observed? Or do your observations point to the need for another crucial conversation?
When you're deciding whether or not to bring up a subject, ask yourself if "that little voice in your head won't go away," or if you are "acting it out" even after you've re-examined your stories. If the answer is "yes" to either, you probably need to talk it out.
In your comments, you stated that you fear your neighbors still think you did write the letter. That could be the topic for another conversation. Mention the first conversation, and that you just want to check in and see how your neighbors are feeling now. Share your goal to be a good neighbor and have a positive relationship.
If you have observed actual behaviors that are leading you to believe there is still an issue (e.g., if you saw nonverbal clues like half-hearted greetings, lack of eye contact, or avoidance on your neighbors' part), you may want to bring them up and hold a crucial conversation to address the story they may be holding onto. In that case, ask to talk to the other person and start by making it safe. Have a private talk. Don't be emotional, be honestly inquisitive. Try to explore the other person's path to action by starting with your observation. For example, "I've noticed that when we see each other in the neighborhood, you don't look directly at me and you tend to hurry out of any conversation." Don't offer judgments about their emotions or motivations. Simply describe the facts. Then tentatively share your concern: "I'm beginning to wonder if you still have feelings about that letter you received. Can we talk?"
You are trying to learn what "story" your neighbors are telling—you are trying to understand their data. Then, when you're in dialogue, you can share your perspective and your purpose.
The other alternative is to be patient. Suppose your neighbors say they don't think you wrote the letter. Suppose you don't see them acting it out. That means most of your energy around this issue is coming from your stories. In that case, wait. Continue with your strategy of being a good neighbor. Often, when we don't have any additional data, our stories and emotions fade. Our worries decrease. That's effectively self-managing your own path to action. Such an approach reminds me of the saying attributed to the great Anonymous: "At twenty, we worry about what others think of us; at forty, we don't care about what others think of us; at sixty, we discover they haven't been thinking about us at all."
Thank you for your inquiry. Hopefully there is a lesson that we can find here that will help us get in touch with our own stories, cue us up when we need to talk, and be more patient with our emotions. All of these can lead us to dialogue.
Al Switzler
Q:I own a furniture consignment shop. We have a new customer who is seventy-five years old, very lonely, and needy. He constantly comes in the shop or calls to talk about how he used to be a Hollywood star and a millionaire, or to tell us about each of his seven marriages.
I don't know how to tell him we are busy, but we have each heard his story three or four times and it's starting to make us all feel uncomfortable. How can I tell my needy customer that I don't have time to talk without offending him?
A: Thanks for the question and for your genuine concern for a person in need. Let me start by suggesting that this situation calls for a tactful discussion instead of a full-blown crucial conversation where you jointly brainstorm a solution.
You're right in worrying about hurting the fellow's feelings. He's a human being and like all of us, he deserves to be treated with respect. Obviously, you don't want to bluntly tell him to stop talking so much or repeating himself so frequently. And while it's true that he may be lonely and is looking for simple conversation, even companionship, it's not the responsibility of a shop owner to meet those needs (more on this later).
The kind thing to do is to pull the gentleman aside and set your ground rules. Explain that you appreciate his business and enjoy the conversation, yet you face a challenge. The shop requires your careful attention and does not allow you to carry on long conversations, enjoyable or otherwise. So you're asking him to conduct his future business quickly—without lengthy discussions—so you can fulfill your responsibilities as a shop owner. Then thank him for his cooperation.
All of this should be done pleasantly, with a slight smile, and with genuine compassion for another person. You're not opening the conversation up for debate, nor are you asking for suggestions. You're professionally and politely defining the boundaries of your relationship.
Now, having said this, let me return to the issue of a lonely gentleman who appears to be looking for more than a simple purchase. Let me write, not just to you, but to all of us—myself included.
Not long ago, I was taking a brisk walk when I passed near an older fellow, a complete stranger, walking the other way. He signaled me to stop and when I did he chatted me up for a full five minutes. I was in a hurry to get back to work, but the gentleman seemed oblivious to the fact that I was trying to exit the conversation at every turn. Later that same day, I stood in line to buy a handful of groceries while an elderly woman in front of me wrote out and recorded a check—seemingly in slow motion—while casually chatting with the clerk. I almost climbed out of my skin.
At the end of the day, my mind turned to the intersection of two factors. One, my own lack of patience, and two, a growing number of elderly people who are likely to tax my ability to slow down and smell their roses. As I thought of these two events, I remembered the fact that as baby boomers age (and I'm one of them), they'll put a massive burden on the healthcare system—leading to a huge shortage of healthcare professionals. I also recalled reading that, in 1950, for every person over 65 there were twelve people of working age, but in 2050, that number will drop to three—burdening social security. I was aware of both the medical and financial burden that will accompany the gray wave. We hear about those issues nearly every day. What I hadn't thought about was the need for love, kindness, a gentle word, and yes—time—from those who will have so much of it on their hands.
The awkward situation at your shop provides evidence that there will come a clash between those who are frantically running about their daily tasks—stretched to do the job of two people—and those who will want to slowly write out a check, go on casual walks, and talk with shop owners about the old days.
And while it's true that the shop owner can't always meet the needs of aging customers, it is equally true that the rest of society will have to come to grips with living alongside a growing number of seniors who are finding their senior years more lonely than golden. As our life paces and interests come in conflict, we'll continually face the question: What do I really want here?
I wrote earlier about my father who had largely gone blind, working on my pride and joy—the flowers in front of our house. Dad really wanted to contribute to the effort and eagerly put on his gloves every time I watered, mulched, or planted. Because dad couldn't see all that well, he often damaged or even killed flowers every time he lent a hand. This bothered me until one day I asked: "What do I really want?" I decided I wanted my dad to work alongside me more than I wanted perfect flowers. We'll be faced with the same question in years to come as more and more elderly people will ask for our time and attention at a stage in our lives when our free time will, if anything, be growing scarcer.
Hopefully, as we ask the question of what we want for ourselves and for others, we'll find both the desire and the methods to spend time with those who have given us so much. Perhaps outside the shop someone will talk with your needy customer about the good old days. Maybe a neighbor will bring by a fresh-made loaf of bread, and then sit and chat for a while—doubling the gift. Perhaps his son will call with a short item of business, and then lengthen the conversation to cover whatever Dad wants to discuss. Perhaps all of us will learn to find ways to stop and smell the roses.
Kerry Patterson
Q:I have just confirmed that my daughter is using drugs and I am beside myself with worry. I have always been very frank when I talked to her about drug use and I fear that because I made her feel safe to talk to me about it, I may have also made her feel like I condone the use of drugs. She confides in me because she feels like she can tell me anything and I don't want to lose this relationship.
How can I express concern for my daughter's behavior and drug use without damaging our relationship and losing her trust?
A: Good for you for thinking about both sides of the parenting problem you have to solve. You're not just worried about expressing disapproval of a self-destructive choice. You're also worried about ensuring your daughter feels safe maintaining dialogue with you. And in my estimation, doing these two things is the heart of parenting.
Now to answer your question, let me make a huge assumption. The fact that you're worried you sent a message of tacit approval of drug abuse makes me suspect you probably have. I assume this worry is fed as you review past interactions with her and find it hard to recall a consistent pattern of clear expressions of disapproval. With that said, don't give yourself an "F" on being a positive influence, as your own personal decision to not abuse drugs is an important force for good. However, clear influence has to go beyond silent disapproval.
I know you asked how to "talk," but I'm going to broaden the issue to the larger topic of influence. Here's the picture we, as parents and guardians of our children, need to have: there are six powerful sources of influence that shape our children's (and our own) choices. And most of them line up in support of experimentation with harmful substances. For example:
Personal Motivation: Kids are told it feels good. Experimentation is pitched in morally appealing packaging—as a way to experience life, demonstrate independence, be your own person, learn about new options, etc.
Personal Ability: Information about options, dosages, delivery methods, etc. is widely available.
Social Motivation and Ability: Powerful peer influences can encourage participation and shame those who don't engage. Kids mentor each other in new ways to get high, ways to get money to get high, and ways to avoid detection. The messages kids get from peers through Facebook, YouTube, movies, television, and other media tend to be pro- not anti-drug abuse.
Structural Motivation: Costs for drugs have declined over the years in a perverse version of Moore's law, the drug high gets stronger as the prices get lower.
Structural Ability: At school, kids are probably never more than five minutes away from access to illicit drugs or alcohol.
I've only scratched the surface in describing how the various methods of influence shape the world your daughter inhabits far more than they did when you and I were walking school halls. I share all of this as a backdrop to a resounding answer to your question. Kids today need much more than a passively disapproving parent in order to avoid succumbing to an overwhelmingly potent influence strategy to engage in harmful behavior—they need parents who are aware of how all six sources of influence are affecting their children, and who take action to offer their children an environment that supports positive choices.
With that said, a conversation is a good place to begin. It could very well begin with, "Sweetheart, I worry that I've been derelict in a very important responsibility. I want to begin remedying that now. . ."
You then need to confront her with the information you have about her drug use. Do so factually. Do not use judgmental language, lay out the case that convinces you there's a problem. For example, a horrified parent might be tempted to say, "Don't you dare lie to me, I know you've been using. You've already been sneaking out with friends and lying to me about what you're doing."
The "facts first" version would sound more like, "When you asked me to bring your cell phone to you at school, a text came through. It was from Denise. She said, 'Does your Mom have any more oxy? I need some.'" Resist the temptation to embellish or exaggerate the information you have. Simply lay out the facts then share your conclusion: "Sweetheart, it's clear to me you have used drugs."
At this point, you need to reassure her she is safe discussing this with you. After you lay out such embarrassing and sensitive facts, most teens will worry that your motive is to judge or punish them. Let her know that's not the case. For example, you could tell her, "I am not bringing this up because I am angry at you or to try to embarrass you. I love you, and I want to help you make choices that will make you happy. Can you tell me what's going on?"
Your goal is dialogue. Only through a healthy dialogue can you influence her heart and mind rather than just her behavior. But similarly, you won't influence her heart and mind if at some point in the dialogue you don't make a strong and clear statement of disapproval—not of her personally, but of this choice.
A few years ago, we worked with the White House on the campaign, Parents. The Anti Drug. We conducted research and created a list of Crucial Conversations tips for speaking up to your kids about drug abuse. These tips can help you in this very crucial conversation with your daughter. I encourage you to check them out.
I am thrilled to know that you have carefully established trust with your daughter that enables her to talk to you. Just make sure you haven't done so in a way that diminishes your ability to have her listen to you. That would not be dialogue, but monologue. Find a way to get your voice into the dialogue while still preserving the wonderful safety you've so effectively created.
Joseph Grenny
Q:As we all know, this is a tough job market for both job seekers and employers looking to fill specific and highly skilled roles. I have been lucky enough to land a great job at an admired company and several people have asked me to refer them for our open positions. These are skilled and qualified candidates, but the trouble is I can't recommend everyone in good faith. Their weak points (communication skills, in particular) or past behavior I observed at work give me pause. I don't feel comfortable pointing this out and I can't ignore their requests without looking like a jerk! How can I take the high road here?
A: For most of us, deciding how to be candid and truthful is often challenging and uncomfortable. And yet, there are some people who don't seem to have any problem with candor—in fact they vote by their words and actions for being brutally honest. In your situation, these folks would have no problem saying something like, "Are you kidding? You have a lot of skills, but interpersonally you're a cross between a dweeb and a jerk. Forget it." If someone challenged them about their civility, they would wax eloquent about being one of the few with the character and courage to speak the truth.
Others vote for the opposite approach—brutal silence. In the situation you're talking about—employment references—they create a policy or hide behind a policy that allows them to say something like, "In our company, references that come from friends or acquaintances do not count. Sorry." Or, "Only references from managers count in this new company." They find a way to sidestep the real issue. I imagine the foundations of this kind of dishonesty come from the old adage, If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all.
Either tactic will ultimately have negative consequences. The brutally honest tactic will no doubt hurt the relationship immediately and the speaker will justify it by saying, "I told him the truth." Brutal silence or kind dishonesty may not hurt the relationship immediately, but the lack of honest feedback also has the potential to hurt the person who asked for help.
Of course, neither of these tactics is ideal. Both are forms of what we've called the "Fool's Choice" in our new edition of Crucial Conversations. People who make the Fool's Choice think they have to choose between these two bad alternatives: "I can tell them the truth and lose them as a friend or I can be less than candid and keep them as a friend."
The masters we've studied over the last thirty years use a different tactic. When they feel that they have to choose between two bad options such as candor or kindness, they avoid the Fool's Choice by pausing and looking for the "and" instead of the "or." They might say something like, "How can I tell this person that I don't feel comfortable writing a recommendation and show him that I truly want to be helpful?" Or it might sound like this: "How can I say 'no' and keep her as a friend?" In both of these statements, we are trying to find the "and." We are trying to clarify what we really want and what we really don't want.
I suggest you do the following.
I think the high road is being able to tell someone the specific reasons you are not able to refer him or her in a way that shows you are a friend. What you don't want to do is try to soften the message by beginning with a string of praises before delivering the whammy. For example, "I think you are very technical, have great computer skills, and work very hard, but I think your communication skills would not allow you to perform well in the jobs available at this company."
What is a better approach? After you consider the person's whole resume, find a private and safe place to talk. Begin by saying that after your consideration, you find yourself in a dilemma. You want to be helpful to your friend and helpful to your company. Tell your friend that you can't recommend him or her because you don't think it would be a good fit. Ask if you can share your reasons why, then tell your friend the specific reasons and try to give some suggestions that you think might help him or her improve. Tell him or her this was a tough decision but you wanted to be a friend as well as be honest with your company.
One approach won't work for every friend. But regardless of the person, make sure that before you speak up, you find out what you really want (to help your friend) and what you don't want (to refer someone to your company who isn't a good fit or to lose a friend).
In your efforts to avoid making the Fool's Choice you will find yourself on that high road.
Al Switzler
Your response to my question was very helpful because of your comments on the kind of culture I would create if I intervened every time someone came running to me with a concern. I was not trying to avoid a "confrontation" with an issue, but in this case I would be enabling a person who likes to manipulate others through my authority. Furthermore, I knew that this person's version of the story was almost always quite different from that of others.
I have taken an opportunity to talk to my direct reports about the importance of talking to each other when issues arise. I know that they often worry about these conversations, but most of the time, these conversations are about relatively small things that will make our company run better. Still, having the conversations can be stressful for some people. We have been emphasizing that as we use Crucial Conversations techniques, the atmosphere is conducive to both parties reaching understanding.
The individual who I am most concerned about has not changed her basic tactics. She still wants to work behind the scenes. For example, there was a dispute while I was on vacation, and when I returned, she wanted to have a meeting to tell me all about it. In this case, I decided it was best to get both parties in the room at the same time and ask them to explain the chronology of events and what they were thinking as events took place in a factual way. This took out the part of the conversation where Party A tells how Party B did something because they wanted to undermine them (stories made up in their mind).
In this case, the relationship was already strained, and they needed a referee to make sure it was a clean conversation. The individual I have a problem with did not like this one bit. I am now stuck with the problem of dealing with a person who does a great job 90 to 95 percent of the time but causes relationship issues with her fellow managers. As a manager, I have to keep working through the situations—trying to teach your art! I must say that your book is the most helpful management tool I have ever come across. Management and leadership are about relationships, and Crucial Conversations is so practical and earthy. It is easier to apply than anything I have ever read.
editor
Q:I am a recently divorced Dad. I have been trying to restore a civil and respectful relationship with my ex-wife, especially for our four wonderful children. However, she seems to respond to every effort with bitterness, sometimes in front of our young children. We both seem to be struggling to establish safety and mutual respect. How can I begin to rebuild safety and mutual respect with my ex-wife, when it is so hard to find and establish?
A: When I read your question, I did what I sometimes do when I get a question (like yours) that requires some specialized knowledge. I panicked.
Then I called my dear friends Elaine and Michael Shimberg, co-authors of The Complete Single Father—a terrific book that I highly recommend. Here's their advice:
"It's normal in the first months and years after a divorce for former spouses to react fearfully to each other as they try to establish a new sense of safety and mutual respect in the new arrangement. One of the best ways to begin building trust is to do all you can to gain agreement to one ground rule: 'We will not disagree or show disrespect to the other in front of our children. We will protect them. Just as I am their father, you are their mother. We will respect those positions.'
"It seems his ex is still very angry. Whatever the situation was that caused his divorce, if he wants to have a better relationship he needs to apologize that things didn't work (whether it was his fault or not), tell her their kids deserve a mother and father who can get along amicably, and that every time either criticizes the other in front of the kids, the kids take it as a criticism against half of them—whether consciously or unconsciously.
"Most divorcees don't realize the direct effect criticizing their ex-spouse has on their kids. If he makes an agreement to her that he will not talk poorly about her in front of the kids (a concern that is probably fueling her fear) and communicate either by e-mail or in person about anything going on in their lives, it may help rebuild that trust and respect. However, if it doesn't happen right off the bat, he needs to keep trying as it may take time to get her on board."
I think this advice is right on target. For many, a divorce feels like a loud and clear message that, "I don't respect you." So it shouldn't be a surprise that both parties can feel self-protective and defensive in the raw months after the traumatic separation—especially if they're concerned their former partner is saying things to damage their children's respect for them.
The physics of building—or rebuilding—trust is simple: Trust grows as we generate data that demonstrates trustworthiness. Trust will never exceed the cumulative data to date.
I love Elaine and Michael's suggestion that you focus on one simple ground rule in your crucial conversation: We will never, never, never do anything that would undermine a child's respect or loyalty to a parent. If you make that commitment unilaterally, then do your best to intentionally generate data that shows you are acting consistently with the agreement. Doing so will begin to help your ex-wife feel she does not need to go on a preemptive strike against you with the children.
For example, you may want to praise your wife in front of your children for any accommodating action she takes. If your children mention fun things they have done with your ex-wife, go out of your way to encourage them to show appreciation to her. These private actions will likely bubble up publicly at some point in a natural way and will help her know you are keeping your promise. Trust will grow. And she may feel safer laying down her sword and shield.
In addition, you need a remediation ground rule. Given the emotional sensitivity of these months and the increased physical and psychological distance between you and her, it is inevitable that some ambiguous event will occur that she will interpret as you criticizing her in front of the kids. The kids will say something or she'll hear something from a mutual friend and conclude you've violated the agreement—even if you haven't. Create an easy way to clear the air with her when this occurs or it will inevitably fester and obliterate the fragile trust you're working so hard to establish.
I salute you for putting your children first and for being willing to take a first step in creating a livable and respectful situation for all.
Joseph Grenny
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