In the book “Thanks for the Feedback: The Science and Art of Receiving Feedback Well”, the authors describe “flooding” as the psychological event that multiplies the impact of a negative feeling. For example, “flooding” is when you find that the printer isn’t working and somehow that feeling becomes everyone here at the office hates me.
Yes, I’ve seen that example happen. It also may have been me.
When I notice the oncoming “flood” happening there are three things that help me get out of it.
Breathe – watch your breath, let things settle. Exercise is good here too.
Get context – Write out everything that is happening to you and read it back. The printer broke, not you.
Get thankful – The fact that you zipped up your pants before you left the house? That’s a win.
Floods are going to happen based on your disposition. I know a lot of creatives are on the “open” side of that scale, meaning we tend to “flood” more often. It’s OK when it happens, it’s human, but the key is to not stay there.
I based my personality in “the know.” I was proud. I built opinions on “knowing” things. I judged people on how “much they knew.” My religion was my perception of knowledge and I made sure you knew it. If you didn’t know anything then why were we talking. I needed to talk to people who were confident, and if you didn’t know you are scared since you didn’t pick a side.
I don’t think that way anymore. In fact, I go in the opposite direction. I am more impressed in what you don’t know. Anyone who tells me they don’t know something gains that much more credibility in my book, I am more apt to trust them, and get curious about who they are and what they do “know.”
What caused this change
Studying human psychology, philosophy and management shifted my thinking. Spending time digging into Jiddu Kristamurti, Peter Drucker, and David McRaney, along with the ancients like Confucius, Socrates, and Seneca, got me to understand that the minute you think you know, you stop thinking.
In fact, the two thoughts (thinking and knowing) are diametrically opposed. When you know you don’t question, and if you don’t question you don’t think. You can’t know a subject and think about it. Your brain has already created the model and the brain hates moving on from what it “knows.” Thinking takes a ton of energy, knowing doesn’t.
So why trust people who don’t know?
Saying you don’t know is a direct assault on the ego, and the starting point to think about every subject you don’t know about. When I hear that, I get comfortable because I know that we can start to talk, and maybe an opinion can change. Talking to someone who knows is like talking to a brick wall. It may feel better to scream at that wall, but you aren’t going to change the form.
From the desk of Adam Thomas 