One of the most valuable things I've learned in the last ten years* has been about dancing with mood.
We inhabit moods—or perhaps they inhabit us. Moods are the orientation that we show up in "before our feet hit the floor in the morning," as Bob Dunham puts it. An orientation to our lives, to our interpretation of our future and of the possibilities it holds for us.
They are deeply personal, rooted in the history of our lived experience. And at the same time they are not personal at all. We're all at the mercy of the shared reflections of our culture and the mass mood of the times we inhabit. In the deepening recognition that we face an uncertain and unsettled future, do we do so in moods of resignation and despair? Resentment and rage? Anger and indignation? Or do we enter the unknown in moods of resolution, ambition, adventure, or even wonder? And sometimes serenity in the face of a future we can't possibly predict? (As if we ever could.)
Moods are correlated with, or perhaps expressions of, the assessments and judgments we make. The assessments we make are, in turn, shaped by our moods. As are the observations we make. Loop de loop.
So is mood a trap? It can be—one that we live in all the time, as invisible to us as water to a fish.
But it need not be, since we can dance with our moods, and the moods of our time.
The dance begins by learning to observe moods—our own, the moods of other people, and even of groups and organizations—and to notice their workings, their shifts, their rhythms.
With practice, we can learn to cultivate mood, much as an athlete or musician cultivates her capacity to perform, or a gardener cultivates a patch of soil to provide the conditions for a plant to grow. With practice, I'm told, we can even learn to orchestrate mood, to affect the mood that people we love and the groups we work with inhabit, or that inhabits them. (In fact we do it all the time, just not consciously.) With practice, I imagine, we can even learn to maintain our own ground and not be swept along by the the mood of our colleagues, our loved ones, or even the mood of the mob.
How? As with many things, it begins by observing.
Resignation, for example, like any mood, is tangled with an assessment—in this case that “things are fkd and there's nothing I or anyone can do to unfk them." But noticing and examining the assessment(s) present with any mood is a first step toward shifting the mood. Is the assessment grounded—based on a realistic interpretation of the actual circumstances you're encountering now? Or is it perhaps ungrounded—based on an inaccurate interpretation of current circumstances, or perhaps a ghost of an event long ago? (Or even an interpretation you "always" make, regardless of the circumstances?)
If the related/tangled assessments are ungrounded, well, that's worth noticing too, since that opens the opportunity to form or choose a different interpretation, one that better reflects the circumstances, aspirations, and commitments of now. In fact just noticing this can shift a mood. Even one that feels normal or inescapable.
If the assessments are grounded, well, that's worth noticing too…since that may disclose unseen opportunities. Are there actions I can take, moves I can make, that address the concerns disclosed by the assessment? That I'm willing to make? That I commit (to myself or a buddy) to make? That I actually do make…thereby changing the circumstances, and inviting a new assessment…and a different mood. In fact, I find, my mood can shift anywhere along that sequence of events, from "simply" identifying the mood to interrogating my assessments to actually acting on the underlying circumstances that elicited the assessment that's tangled with the mood.
Learning to dance with mood has become a key element in my work with leaders, emerging leaders, and their teams—and in my own effectiveness, well being, and peace of mind in these wild and crazy times.
What does the dance of mood feel like in your life? How do you experience and cultivate the moods you inhabit—or that inhabit you?
(To be continued.)
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* (with deep gratitude to Fernando Flores, Gloria Flores, B Rousse, and Chauncey Bell.)
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Good point! Actually, now I think about “things I can’t influence” is my shorthand - and back to front. What I really mean is that there are many (important and worthwhile) things I can influence, and that’s where I focus my attention, time and energy.
I find that many people are so fixated on what is difficult for them to influence, that they ignore things they can do. Eg ranting about what government should do, and unaware they could get together with others and raise their organisation’s ambition and action on sustainability.
Not sure it exactly answers your question, but I find letting go of things that I can’t influence, very helpful. Along with trusting other committed and skilled people are working on the issues I can’t influence.