"Switching Stations," Excerpt from Culture Shift: Nonviolence at Work

It’s no secret that the world around us can feel overwhelming. We live in polarized times, heightened by the intensity of election-year politics in the US, that can make it difficult to keep despair at bay. Practicing nonviolence allows us to recognize that these narratives play a big role in our outlook and resulting behavior. So how do foster hope? Read the excerpt below from Culture Shift: Nonviolence at Work to find Kit Miller’s recommendation, and for some encouragement about how we can all benefit from this discipline.

Imagine yourself in Kit Miller’s sunlit kitchen, where over several cups of good coffee she generously shares her abundant recipes for transforming a workplace, organization, neighborhood, or community. Throughout the conversation, she invites you to share and reflect on your own embodied experience. Using the practical and accessible tools of nonviolence, she weaves wisdom from both known and unknown heroes. Kit provides all you need to nourish your own brand of humble, skilled, dynamic, and inclusive leadership—the kind of leadership her life and work exemplify. I celebrate this book which demonstrates how heroic acts of everyday life can and do transform the world.
— Anne Symens-Bucher

In 2004, I was driving through Oakland, California, listening to a radio interview with author Mary Catherine Bateson. She described living with coexisting, often contradictory narratives and said that which narrative showed up depended on who she was with, how she was feeling, and what she was doing.

Listening to her speak, I realized that I too have a couple narratives running like a low-level radio playing in the background. Depending on who I’m around—and how I’m feeling—I’m listening to one or the other story, tuning into that narrative like talk radio. When I feel good, the “shiny” narrative emerges—the good stuff. “Things are great. I feel hopeful about x, y, and z. We/I can make significant contributions that will make a difference to the future.” This also happens when I’m in the presence of someone I don’t know well or want to impress. Or sometimes, the shinier narrative emerges when I’m with a younger person and I want to inspire hope. 

When my internal resources are low, or when I’m in the company of a sympathetic ear, I switch stations. The narrative that comes to the foreground is the one of discouragement and worries, of challenges, rather than possibilities. 

Have you ever experienced anything similar? We can find ourselves steered by these powerful narratives unless we do one important thing: notice. Without awareness, either narrative can swiftly balloon into feeling like our whole reality, forgetting that just a few hours—or moments—ago, we were immersed in a different story. There is power and grace in noticing stories without believing them. I call it living between stories. Freeing ourselves from the influence of a single story gives us the perspective needed to see pieces of truth in all narratives, opening us up to more possibilities. 

The stories we carry regarding colleagues, projects, and efforts frequently dominate our consciousness and conversations about work. 

Growing this awareness can also make us more conscious consumers of media, noticing which stories are fed to us and by whom. When I read or watch mainstream US media, I notice feelings of overwhelm, fear and frequent fury about what is happening politically, economically, and environmentally. For balance, I make efforts to consume local and alternative media. I read Yes Magazine as a resource that highlights innovation and systemic change, the weekly edition of Nonviolence News, and media outside the US to open my perspectives. I learned the importance of disciplined media consumption from conversations with two colleagues from Rwanda who reflected on the role media played to incite genocide in 1994.

When our thinking is consumed with grief or despair, we can look for the “other narrative” and then attempt to rest between them, like a relaxed spider on her web. 

From these efforts, I have come to believe that despair is a form of arrogance, implying that I somehow know the outcome of a situation when I, of course, cannot. Life is full of surprises and unintended consequences. Since despair is an old companion of mine, this awareness offers me strength and clarity in difficult moments, to question assumptions that seem inevitable when I feel overwhelmed. 

Victor Frankl, psychologist, author, and Holocaust survivor, speaks of despair as “suffering without meaning” and suggests that a way out is to find and increase meaning in our lives. This could take many forms, including at places we volunteer or work. There’s a million ways to grow meaning!


The wait is nearly over—less than two weeks until Culture Shift: Nonviolence at Work is released. Preorder your copy here.