[excerpted from, 9 Keys to Befriending Stress: Personal Growth ©2023]

And while you’re telling your story to others, while that oxytocin is flooding your body precisely because of the stressful event you’ve experienced and you’re filled with empathy as a result: nurture others.

This is directly related to the reduction of your stress response, and a positive outcome of stress. Rather than a distraction, it becomes a sort of feedback loop. Stress causes a release of oxytocin, the ‘social hormone’ which is directly associated with empathy and our need for human bonding. We then engage with others and, if specifically in a way that extends kindness and nurturing toward them as a result of that extra oxytocin production, this then causes our body to release even more oxytocin in return – and on it goes.

Oxytocin is also referred to as the ‘love hormone’ as it increases our emotionality toward one another in various forms: romantic attraction, sexual arousal, mother-infant bonding, recognition, and trust. When we experience stress, our body naturally responds by showering us with love. This is one especially clear benefit of stress, in fact, though of course, oxytocin is produced by other means – including prosocial behavior itself.

The power of kindness, given and received, cannot be overstated; this applies not only to those with whom we have a relationship but also – sometimes more so – when exchanged with strangers, thereby reinforcing our humanity. Kindness toward others has been demonstrated to lower our feelings of stress, decrease anxiety, regulate blood pressure and heart rate, increase our subjective wellbeing, and even improve our vitality. There is a positive psychological benefit to our self-esteem; we feel better about ourselves as a result. It improves our social bonding, even with strangers, and thereby helps us feel better supported and safer. It contributes to our sense of meaning and purpose – and it’s socially contagious, in that being the recipient of kindness encourages one to pass it on.

Prosociality includes but goes beyond kindness. In this, a term developed as the antithesis to antisocial behavior, we’re contributing to the greater good; it may not even directly involve other people. We may contribute to charities, donating goods or money, even anonymously; perhaps we get involved in a beach clean-up or neighborhood patrol program. We might petition our political representatives to create changes for the betterment of society. Or we may advocate for any number of disenfranchised groups. Prosocial behavior has been shown to improve psychological wellbeing, life satisfaction, and flourishing, all of which serve as protective factors for mental health. It acts as a buffer against the negative effects of stress, improves mood, and increases overall happiness.

Engaging in such actions to benefit others in turn increases one’s sense of social connection and belonging, which contributes not only to core human needs of safety and stability but also of identity; we know ourselves through the various contexts to which we belong. It’s a protective factor against stress response, loneliness, alcohol or substance abuse, cardiac disease, and suicide. Generally, our social support bolsters our resilience, along with other factors, thus decreasing our susceptibility to a host of physical and mental illnesses – including negative aspects of stress.

When undergoing stress we do well to reach out to others, even if we’ve worked to build a stress-as-beneficial mindset, abilities such as reframing our thoughts and a mindful regulating of our emotions, and storytelling with a focus on what story we’re telling about this event or period, and how. Not only do we seek others’ support, but we make an effort to provide support and nurturing as well, to volunteer, to give of ourselves, even – especially – when we feel that we’ve nothing to give, and our tendency is for our own survival and isolation instead. In reaching out and doing for others, well beyond distraction from our own stress, pain, or loss, we’re boosting our mental health and causing even more oxytocin to be released into our system as a result.

It’s not strictly necessary that we reach out for the support of others. Introverts in particular may find it more beneficial to go through challenges alone, while knowing that they have a support network even so; that knowledge may be enough. Storytelling, too, as we saw, while very useful, can be either with / to others, or the story told to oneself, while both together tends to have the strongest results. If nothing else, however – if we get through challenges better on our own, resting assured in the fact that we do have a support network but knowing that we need to focus on our internal process, then we still do well to extend our nurturing to others. It will benefit them, and benefit us at the same time, in reinforcing our humanity and our interconnectedness with all.

Nurturing.

[excerpted from, 9 Keys to Identity Crisis & Resolution: Personal Growth ©2023]

One of the newest forms of CBT, which we can also apply to identity crisis and resolution – and, to our personal growth and transformation, is Acceptance & Commitment Therapy [ACT].

This is a model of psychological flexibility, and therefore a method for personal change – well suited for identity transformation. It brings elements of mindfulness into CBT, yet rather than reframing harmful thought patterns (CBT) or irrational beliefs (REBT), it teaches us to accept our circumstances and negative feelings as simply a part of life.

So how can such acceptance be an element of change?

As in mindfulness, an attitude of acceptance – non-striving, as Buddhism terms it – alongside a focus on the present moment allows us to change more naturally, rather than fighting to do so. ACT has also been termed ‘applied positive psychology’; the latter focuses on all that’s right with one’s mental state of being, and on character strengths whereby we can facilitate change, rather than an attempt to address or reorganize our flaws.

I would say that in the process of identity reformation, we can begin with a personal application of CBT principles – looking for and reorganizing any faulty thought patterns, move on to REBT – seeing if we’ve irrational beliefs about ourselves and/or others that we can transform, and then to engage in a regular practice of ACT by which we accept ourselves and our circumstances specifically as a means to personal growth. Any of the three by itself can be helpful to our identity transformation and resolution of crisis; a combination of the three, even more so.

There are 6 core principles of ACT, often depicted in a hexagon shape and all interrelating with one another, and with psychological flexibility on the whole. They are: acceptance, cognitive defusion, being present, self-as-context, values, and committed action.

Acceptance isn’t mere passivity; rather, we accept and let go of what’s not in our control, in order that we may more clearly determine our actions – the part that is, in fact, within our control. As someone once taught me, 4 decades ago now: when faced with any situation, ask yourself: is this in my control? If not, let it go – and don’t worry; if yes, take action accordingly – and, don’t worry.

In cognitive defusion, similar to the mindfulness technique in observing and letting go of emotions, we learn to recognize our thoughts and observe them, rather than react to them. This objectivity allows us to think more clearly, and to separate thoughts and emotions so that we’re better able to work with them instead. For example, if I’m thinking about learning a new language, and have had difficulty with this previously, I can either feel distress and apprehension at the thought – or I can keep my emotions separate and simply consider this idea instead. Or, if I find myself thinking about a former relationship, if I’ve been able to separate thought from emotion, I can think about and remember or analyze the relationship itself without being triggered into an emotional response.

In our earlier chapter on mindfulness, we looked at the value of maintaining a present-moment focus. As part of the ACT model, the more we can maintain our focus on the present, the better we’re able to function; after all, we cannot change the past and while we can work toward our future, we can’t fully control the outcome. This focus is also a matter of grounding, our sense of stability, especially in times of profound change.

In self-as-context, we learn to maintain an observer status, by which a part of ourself notices our thoughts, feelings, and actions, as if from afar, maintaining objectivity. This isn’t disengagement per se; we don’t aim to be on the sidelines of life. What it does is allow us to better understand our thoughts and feelings, and more clearly determine our actions as a result. By this we also become free of faulty beliefs we may have had about ourselves. Rather than, “I’m such a failure,” we observe, “Oh, there’s my thinking or feeling about failure again,” which serves to further defuse its impact so that we can remain objective. As we work to reformulate our sense of personal identity, such objectivity is especially useful.

In the 5th principle, we learn to better identify and live in keeping with our values. While we all have a set of values, developed over time and influenced from a multitude of directions – family, culture, religion, life experience, and much more can be both what we value, and what’s influenced those values – we aren’t always aware of what they are. We can work to increase our awareness, so that daily living, purpose, and values align with one another for a true presence of meaning. In a crisis of identity, our values often shift, and we must relearn what we most value now, in this next new phase of life.

Finally, committed action. We learn to identify and take steps toward our personally valued goals, despite feelings of discomfort or disturbing thoughts; the focus is less on outcome and more on the steps themselves. This is especially relevant in the identity crisis, as we become increasingly clear about who we’re becoming and who we’d like to be, and focus on the steps necessary to fully integrate this new identity.

The essential skills for ACT, then, include mindfulness itself (see that earlier key), a balanced perspective, identification of changes in our values and our goals and commitment to taking steps in line with same, acceptance of our thoughts and emotions without judgment, and objectivity as we separate our thoughts, beliefs, and feelings from our actions and behaviors – in order that the latter is not propelled by the former.

Acceptance and commitment as a means to change, in our reestablishment of identity.

[excerpted from, 9 Keys to Embracing Change: Personal Growth ©2023]

To embrace change, and go through transitions as wisely as we can, inner exploration is in order. And what better way to do so than with that therapist at your fingertips: a journal?

Or if you don’t enjoy writing, or find that it doesn’t work for you as a means of introspection, consider keeping an audio or video journal instead, through which to explore your thoughts. (Our phones make this exceedingly easy.) The point here is (a) this is only for your eyes (or ears), never for anyone else, so that you’ll feel free in what you write or record; and, (b) to explore your thoughts and feelings in a way that also gets them out of your head and into another format, thereby allowing you to both look more closely at your inner experience and also to decrease or release its mental and emotional impact.

If you’re unfamiliar with journaling, it’s often referred to as a ‘therapist’ because in writing down (or recording) our thoughts and exploring our feelings in this way, we tend to gain insight. A journal isn’t for a simple recounting of one’s day (unless it’s for a specific purpose, such as a gratitude, kindness, or mindfulness journal); rather, it’s for deeper exploration of one’s mind. We ‘tell’ our journal things we’d never say to another person, and sometimes, thoughts or feelings emerge that we didn’t realize we had.

In times of change, keeping a journal can provide a stabilizing factor; it’s one thing that’s not changing, an anchor, and a place to safely express what we’re feeling in the midst of turmoil. We can explore such topics as what currently is and is not within our control, what we can do about the aspects that we do have some control over, and how we can better let go of those that we don’t. We can use the journal to explore what’s particularly disturbing or frightening in this time of change, what we anticipate or dread, and how likely either outcome may be. We can clarify the process of change itself, explore our goals and objectives for this transition – whether we’ve chosen it, or it was thrust upon us by fate or the actions of another, and what steps we can take to get past whatever stage we’re in currently. We can express our sense of loss as we leave the old life or our former self behind, our feelings of being lost while in that middle part, and our sense of relief and perhaps even anticipation as we begin to emerge.

In processes of personal growth or development, journaling can be especially useful for keeping us motivated (“eyes on the prize!”) and exploring our roadblocks as they arise, in planning our next steps and assessing the effectiveness of our efforts thus far.

We can also use a journal to rewrite our story. This is a very useful exercise for making the most of our transition, of this period of change, and possibly of achieving some form of personal transformation as a result. Whatever has happened to us in the past, or is happening to us now, or around us, is only one part of the story. Surely, there are a range of perspectives to be explored. But even more importantly, what has occurred, even if we’re still in the middle of it, took place in the past – even if it was just days ago; what we tell ourselves about it, now and going forward, is our story of this event, this time of change, and we can choose to tell it in a range of ways.

This isn’t to say that we make up a story or deceive ourselves with fantasy. Rather, it’s a matter of the way in which we choose to focus on and later, to remember this event, however major.

Let me give an example. Say something traumatic happened to you as a child. The event itself occurred however it did, and we can’t change that. Nor is it useful, years later now in adulthood, to paint some pretty fantasy of it in order to get past the emotional content; this is the magical thinking of a child, that if I cover my eyes, you’re no longer there. It doesn’t work in adulthood; our brain always knows the reality of what happened.

But what story do we choose to reinforce? That story, that ongoing story, in terms of what perspective we take on the event that occurred, is ours alone to tell. In this example, the story might begin with what happened so long ago; it could then go on to other aspects, such as how we’ve chosen to live our lives, all that we’ve done to ensure our own mental health, the people who love us, the person we’ve become, even what we’ve gained as a result. (Those who’ve suffered trauma as children, for example, often become highly empathetic adults.) All of that is in the ongoing trajectory of the original story – and we decide how it’s told, if only to ourselves.

So, you can use your journaling to explore how you’ll tell this story in the future. It’s a very effective way of getting through the change itself, right now. If you can’t detach from the emotions of it, try writing it simply as a story happening to someone else – someone else who lost their job, or a person, or a marriage, or who’s about to have their first child and is anxious about how life will change, or who is—you get the idea. Write that story. How will you tell this, in years to come?

Another way to lessen the emotions as we go through a transition is to write about them. By exploring what we’re feeling in this form, by putting emotion to paper as it were, we’re also releasing it to some degree. We can explore the grief and loss that accompany letting go of the old, in order to ultimately embrace the new. We may find ourselves writing (or recording, or your method of choice), “I feel really anxious about this because I’m filled with doubt that I’m not good / strong / worthy enough to … be a parent / take on that new role at work / be single again,” and this helps to defuse the emotional impact. We can then explore the reverse: I feel that I’m not ready / capable / sufficient – but in what ways could the opposite possibly be true?

Our internal exploration, during our time within the cocoon of change.

[excerpted from, Intercultural Competence ©2023]

Our Big Question: What is intercultural communication, and what are its challenges?

Of all the skill sets and knowledge bases we seek to obtain, in order to reach any measure of intercultural competence, communication across cultural divides is key. Culture and language are inextricably linked, after all, and in order to achieve any facility with one, we must also focus our efforts on the other. And yet, most of us cannot learn more than a few languages (a polyglot, typically not more than 10-12), any more than we can learn the features of each culture – so how do we go about this?

Often, of course, English serves as our current common language (French, a century ago; perhaps Chinese in the future), or we engage interpreters to come to our rescue. Even so, communication styles and speech patterns differ widely, body language and facial expressions are tricky at best, and there are other considerations as well.

Let me give you some examples of variations in communication styles. English is generally direct and to the point (though among the British, less so); conciseness is valued and theme expressed, speakers talk one at a time with a pause in between, and language style reflects individualism (I/my). With Latinate languages, detours away from the main point are expected, to maintain interest and politeness; talking over one another is most common, with overlap rather than gap between speakers. Hebrew falls between English and Latinate: mostly direct, with many short sidebars. Arabic is a high-context language, with speakers unconsciously assuming that listeners already understand the subtext; thus, little detail is given and it may seem that only half of the story is there, as others in that linguistic group would have already completed the meaning in their minds. Finnish, a nearly unique language (not Indo-European, used only in Finland, Estonia, and a few small groups in western Russia) is very direct and succinct with no small-talk; long pauses between speakers allow what’s said to be politely considered. Asian communication styles tend to be very indirect, circular, and floral or poetic, in order to avoid being perceived as too assertive or egotistic which would cause loss of respect; the collective ‘we/our’ (even ‘our’ wife, for example) is common.

You may ask, if we aren’t focused on mastering many languages, what’s the point of this? But even if speakers are using a common language such as English, they’ll still tend to follow the communication style most familiar to them. Can you imagine, for example, conversation between an Italian and a Finn? The former will continue to talk, with an expectation that the latter will simply jump in, while the Finn will wait forever for a polite break that never comes. Or in a conversation between an American and a Korean in which the Korean may feel insulted by the American’s bluntness, while the American is likely to feel frustrated as the Korean uses all manner of flowery and polite language before ever getting to the point.

And so, we learn general communication styles, which often reflect larger cultural features – such as collectivism vs individualism.

First, we must learn whether the communication style of a culture is low or high context, as mentioned in the above example of Arabic. Low context is presumed to hold essentially the same meaning no matter where it’s used, and is consistent with nonverbal cues; it’s highly structured and detailed, often meant literally, tends to be direct and factually-based, and can easily disagree or decline. High context, on the other hand, is contextually dependent, and the same message may differ widely in meaning according to where or to whom it’s given. It tends to be more succinct because members of that culture or language group, and setting, would already inherently understand the subtext or context, and can seem ambiguous in talking around the point or avoiding the use of ‘no’, for example.

Communication styles are further classified as direct or indirect, and elaborate or succinct, as seen in several of our examples. Language use can be person-centered and informal, or context-centered and more formal; self-enhancing (typical of individualistic cultures) vs self-effacing (collectivist; ‘don’t be the tallest tree’); instrumental or functional vs affective, meant to convey emotion; oriented to outcome vs to the communicative process; explicit or implicit. Further, the communicative focus can be on either the sender or listener; for example, it’s common for me as a product of American culture to restate my message or ask the listener if he/she understands, because I as speaker am responsible for communicating my meaning clearly; a Chinese person, however, would never ask questions because this would be insulting, and would go home and look up the information instead – as the responsibility of understanding is on the listener.

Politeness in communication is another area of cultural understanding, as we also saw in our examples; is it polite to wait for the other to pause in his or her speech before contributing, or to break in so that there are no gaps in the conversation? Is it polite to respond immediately or to first consider what the other has just said? What about small talk – conversational softener and relationship builder, or superficial and a waste of time? How about privacy vs inclusion? Are compliments friendly or invasive, or manipulative? What about the use of humor, or irony? In many cultures, humor is not used in communication as it trivializes, while in others, it eases tension; irony simply isn’t understood in a multitude of cultures that don’t use it and will take what’s being said as literal instead – and likely insulting.

We must learn and be aware of what’s considered polite, when speaking across cultures – and if we don’t know (say, in a multicultural setting in which we simply can’t know this for all cultures represented), err on the side of caution. Irony, humor, small talk: out – though do use a certain amount of softening. (Attempts at humor often fail to cross cultural lines, at any rate.) Direct / indirect, or private / inclusive, or explicit / implicit, for example: aim for middle ground.

In fact, aiming for somewhere in the center of any such continuum is a high skill of intercultural communication. This, we can learn and practice – but first, we must be aware that such distinctions even exist. So now you are.

Our perception, interpretation, and evaluation of communication across cultural lines is also essential, and an area in which we can hone our skills. We must seek contextual cues – do you already know what’s being discussed, or what the speaker thinks or feels about it? Does this conversation build on prior knowledge or experience? Is there an implicit hierarchy in the conversation – staff member / manager in a business meeting, senior / junior scholars at a conference, age / generation differential, host / guest? We also consider intonation, pitch, and volume, bearing in mind that this varies from one culture to another; within the same communication, however, we can take note if a speaker changes his pitch, lowers her volume, or anything that contrasts with that person’s dominant style. We want to ensure, if possible, that we communicate and understand not only the ‘what’ of a topic, information or facts, but also the ‘how’, process and response – and the ‘why’, or meaning. And any time that meaning is even slightly less than clear, or you feel less than 100% certain that you understood (or even when you feel confident): ask for clarification. Ask another listener afterward if he/she understood the meaning in the same way that you think you did. And, reflect later – revisit that conversation in your mind, to see if there’s any possible alternate meaning.

There are many sources of cultural barriers in communication. The first is simply one of vocabulary, in which the social meaning of a word may differ from one society to the next (one of the reasons, as earlier referenced, that UK and US have been famously described as ‘one people separated by a common language’). Other sources for potential misunderstandings include how things are said: speech acts, speech act sequence, and behavior sequences; organization and conventions of dialogue, as in our examples above; choice of topic, which may be unfamiliar to one party, mean something different, or be sensitive or controversial; direct vs indirect communication styles as mentioned; register (formal or informal language); nonverbal factors, famously easy to misinterpret; and, culture-specific values, attitudes, and behaviors.

About nonverbal communication – this is an area rife with ethnocentrism, as we all commonly assume that we understand the nonverbal cues of others. Body language, gestures, facial expression, eye contact, the use of touch, sense of personal space, posture, use of silence – best to minimize your own nonverbal communication, and to consider that you likely don’t understand that of the other after all. Not making eye contact, for example, can mean dishonesty, distraction, or respect for a senior, or something else entirely. Touch may be a sign of relating or sincerity (Brazilian, Italian) or perceived as violating (German, Swedish). That ‘thumbs-up’ of encouragement to some could be an obscene gesture to another. (In Korea, the ‘come hither’ crook of a finger or inward wave of a hand is generally demeaning, only used with young children – or a dog.) Differences in personal space can be amusing, as one person unconsciously keeps moving closer while the other just as unconsciously continues to step back, and they dance across the room; it can also be uncomfortable, however, and easily misunderstood if one is perceived as too close – or too distant. Movement is another area: is it common to ‘talk with one’s hands’ (Italy, all of Latin America) or not (all of Asia)?

Cultural differences in concepts of time also affect cross-cultural communication. Time can be perceived as monochronic or polychronic (and we can learn this about any cultural group); monochronic cultures are task-oriented, generally one by one in sequence; they’re planners, organized, efficient, tend to start tasks well in advance of deadlines and methodically progress, as we see in Lewis’ linear-active category. Polychronic cultures, on the other hand, are relationship-oriented; they multi-task and are especially flexible, with little or no advance planning, seen as both multi-active and reactive in the Lewis system.

I gave an example of this earlier, in the Korean style of last-minute event organization which was difficult for those from monochronic cultures to accept as not being ‘behind-schedule’. In another experience, a conference was organized by a Germanic-Swiss team and hosted in Italy; the Swiss organizers had planned a precise schedule that they worked to keep on time, while the Italian hosts felt it far more important to have a coffee and build relationship, after which all tasks could be done more or less simultaneously. Near-disaster, and a great deal of tension, but with cross-cultural communication regarding differing concepts of time, they were able to reach a compromise.

So, in this especially challenging area of intercultural communication, how can we obtain the necessary skills?

As with anything else, we build a knowledge base that includes cultural norms (for example, do women speak freely if men are present? Are elders, or senior-ranking, expected to speak first, or last? Do children speak at all?), history and conflict, beliefs and values. We work to increase our sensitivity (aim for middle ground; don’t misinterpret nonverbal communication, and minimize your own use) and our empathy (look for commonalities). We become comfortable with being wrong, or certain, and let go of that all too common need to be right. We adapt a communication style that’s flexible, so that we can more effectively communicate with those whose style is very different from our own, and we become more adaptable, in order to better compromise and find middle ground. And as always, we must be on our guard against our ethnocentrism (our way isn’t better nor any norm), and any stereotypes we may unconsciously hold about the culture of the other.

In short: prepare, observe, compare, reflect, inquire, respect, empathize, and take risks.

As starting points, we can be willing to learn a few words or phrases in the language of the other. We can ask experts on that culture and communication style about common problems and traps, challenges between their culture and our own. We can check our understanding, and also that of the other person. We must be willing to laugh at ourselves, and to always apologize as needed for our misunderstandings and miscommunication, even when a simple mistake; what seems simple to you may be insulting to the other. And as always, we learn to reflect on each interaction and experience afterward, making it our habit to assess and consider whether we understood accurately after all.

The question often arises: who adapts? Does the visitor in another country try to adapt to local ways, or do locals as hosts try to understand that the guest’s ways are simply different?

Yes. To both.

If you’re a guest in another country, it’s your responsibility to learn and adapt – while locals will typically be patient and understanding of your mistakes, and greatly appreciate your attempts. If you’re hosting someone from another country or culture, this responsibility becomes theirs, while it’s yours to help them understand, to bridge that gap. If meeting neutrally (e.g., at an international conference or event in a country where neither of you is a member of the local culture), everyone must compromise and meet in some relatively neutral middle-ground.

In the bigger picture, however, wherein you’re working to become interculturally competent overall, this responsibility is surely yours. You’re aiming for expertise, after all.

EXERCISES:

Discussion or Contemplation: In communication with members of my own culture, what are my strengths and weaknesses?

Writing or Recording: What additional challenges do I expect to face in cross-cultural communication, and what steps can I take now to develop better skills?

Further Reading: The Six Steps to Great Intercultural Communication