black-and-white thinking
Survival program with side effects
During my run along the river, I pass a bench that is painted half black and half white. Originally intended as a symbol of unity, for me it is a metaphor for something I often encounter in #coaching: people who view the world in terms of dichotomies.
Black or white. Right or wrong. These thoughts come quickly, feel true, and mercilessly block out everything in between.
A quick internal decision that is made before the nuances even have a chance. This pattern often permeates everyday life: how people judge themselves, classify conflicts, interpret the reactions of others.
Black-and-white thinking is not a mistake. It is a survival program.
The brain seeks orientation and resorts to clear poles because they reduce uncertainty. Under stress, this happens even faster because differentiated perception requires more energy than is currently available.
Our inner system then radically switches to clarity: one side takes control and defines what is now acceptable. Anything that does not fit in with this slips into the background. But this clarity comes at a price: it often leads to too much pressure because it leaves no room for nuances.
A manager tells me: “If I don't take full responsibility, it means I'm not loyal.”
But there are many shades of gray between “I sacrifice myself” and “I don't care.” You can show responsibility and set boundaries at the same time. Not as a compromise, but as both-and. It's about enduring tension and allowing yourself to be ambiguous.
In coaching, the first step is to become aware of your own thought patterns and understand what function they serve.
I find the hypnosystemic perspective very helpful: if one part of me is so focused on performance and responsibility, which other part of me actually wants the opposite? More breaks, more lightness, more “enough is enough.” Simply acknowledging that this part of me exists opens a crack in the door.
I like to work with the image of a slider to make the area between black and white visible. For me, it is also an invitation to the inner parts: How can I listen not only to the loud voice, but also to the quiet one that has not had a place until now?
When I consciously perceive and appreciate both voices instead of pushing one of them away, movement gradually emerges. From an either/or attitude to a both/and attitude.
Black and white. And many shades of gray in between.
Ever since this bench caught my eye, I enjoy seeing it every time I walk by. It reminds me how tempting clear contrasts are and how much truth lies in between.
Where in your everyday life do you slip into either/or thinking?
And what nuances or inner voices could you also perceive there?
