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Most powerful is he who has himself in his own power.

-Seneca

“Think of something that makes you angry,” the instructor says. “Close your eyes and get it in front of you. Do you have it?” The small woman nods, face tight. He places the soft bat in her hands. She grits her teeth and hauls back, knocking a padded bedroll from her partner’s grasp. Whomp! The class jumps. Such force from a tiny person catches us all off guard. The woman and the partner both let out shaky giggles.

“Close your eyes and let that go,” the instructor tells her. “Now, I want you to call up something that fills you with love. Not just something that makes you happy, but something that brings you true joy. Let the experience of it radiate through you. Picture it and feel it. Are you there?” The small woman’s shoulders drop. She smiles and nods gently. “Okay,” he says. “Now.” He hands her the bat.

She winds up again. With a clean, wide arc, she brings the bat down. Crack! The class draws collective breath, her partner lets out a cry, and the bedroll skids across the floor. “Woah!” the woman breathes. She is glowing.

“Man,” says her partner, nursing her hands. “You’re stronger than you look!”

It all seemed little silly at the start. Several of the participants have had to swallow back disdain at the metaphysical, "radiant symmetry" kind of language the instructor uses. However, we suspend disbelief for the sake of the course credit, engaging and observing.

Over and over, twenty-four separate goes, the scenario above plays out. Every participant tries each side of it at least once. And every time, every single time, the force of the latter blow is measurably stronger than that of the former. Both witnesses and participants note the contrast:  The angry hit is sloppy compared to the long, clean swing and satisfying contact of the joyous one. The tightness of the angry hit cannot compare to the way the loving one draws on an unleashed, wide-open momentum. Precision, force, and explosive success are evident in every joyous blow.

So often, we equate power with aggression. Power dominates, and powerful people use force and fear to gain ground. To win. 

Yet, as I sit in this decidedly inside-out kind of class, I watch as aggression falls short. A mightier power overtakes it, outpacing anger and dominance every time. Joy and love win. 

How is this possible?

The purpose of this course for conflict resolvers is twofold. First, we learn to identify the physical manifestations of stress. Second, we develop a physiological aptitude for staying grounded in the midst of highly charged conflict situations. 

Traditionally, social workers, mediators, and other practitioners learn numerous verbal, mental, and even emotional skills to navigate stressful interactions. We think we have a full toolbox at our disposal, but we may not realize the ways our bodies can sabotage our best thinking. Self-protective mechanisms kick in when faced with danger, real or imagined. These reactions are built into our DNA. We feel stress, and our posture contracts. Blood flows away from the brain, our breath quickens, our muscles tense. All of these physical processes prepare us to fight, flee, or submit.

They protect us, certainly, but they do not allow us to provide good attention for the people we aim to serve.

They also don't make us very smart. 

The exercise with the bat and bedroll is just one of many during the two-day class. Each experience illustrates a stunning, measurable link between the body, the brain, and an expansive kind of power. Clearly, calling to mind an experience of joy has an impact on the physiology. The more surprising discovery is that physical choices have a parallel effect on thought. 

 

We breathe deep in our bellies while keeping our stance strong and our eyes open. Doing this, we notice how much more we are able to stay calm and keep our wits about us when someone is hurling insults at us. Paying attention to just these three details – breath, posture, and vision – allows us to keep thinking well, even when someone strides up, snarling into our faces.

By the end of the class, even the swaggering young Palestinian dude and the tough Chicana with the attitude are speaking with excitement about using these skills in practice. Experiencing the contrast repeatedly over two days whittles down our resistance.We may face disdain from peers and scholars, but most of the participants leave the class a little high on the possibilities.

Being able to tap the knowledge available to us even under stress is quite a talent.We are better at what we do when we attend to our physical state. We are able to take in more information about our environment. We are attuned to our surroundings and more perceptive to the opportunities available to us. We can serve. We can lead. We can succeed. Attending to the body, it can be argued, might even make us smarter. 

And with that kind of resource available to us, we are powerful indeed.