Thanks for being here, everybody. My name is Nate Mitchell. It’s 2022, and we're taking you into one of the closed-door sessions at the Arbinger Summit to listen in on a discussion with some Arbinger clients and facilitators who deliver Arbinger’s work within their own organizations.

Today, I want to talk with you about a subject that everyone loves to talk about—pain, and in particular, hidden pain.

Nate Mitchell is a licensed mental health counselor, an adjunct professor of family sciences, and a seasoned facilitator of Arbinger’s work, having led hundreds of workshops for parents navigating some of life’s toughest moments and providing ongoing support for families in crisis.

When I was a freshman in college, I took a course on communication. The professor went to the whiteboard and drew two stick figures, side by side, just like this.

She said, “Anyone who can come up here and circle the human being gets 50 extra credit points.” Everyone rushed to guess, circling either stick figure, but each time the professor said, “That’s not the right answer.” After a full lecture and leaving us with a riddle over the weekend, she finally revealed: “The human being is right here.” She circled the space between the two figures.

That stuck with me more than anything else she ever taught. People don’t exist in isolation. The essential quality of a human being is found in what happens between them—the connections between people. This is not just a feature of being human, it’s at the root of our existence. Even if we try, we can’t fully isolate ourselves. We only exist in relation to each other.

Welcome to Leading Outward, the Arbinger Institute podcast, where we explore the tools and ideas we've used for over 45 years to help people solve their toughest leadership and organizational challenges by leading with an outward mindset—seeing people as people. I'm McKinlay Otterson.

When I was first introduced to Arbinger’s ideas, I was already formally trained and educated in mental health. Learning these concepts turned everything upside down. Every person you meet is carrying a burden you know nothing about. One of the most powerful steps we can take is to consider the burdens that another person is carrying. What’s that hidden pain? How does that pull us into their humanity?

There’s pain that we hide. There are all kinds of pain: physical pain experienced through the body, and the universal nature of that pain. Some philosophers say it’s the most real part of our experience. But why do we have pain in the first place? Why do we try to end it—ignore, distract, medicate? Some strategies make it worse, others better. But if you could magically eliminate all physical pain, you wouldn’t last long. Pain is helpful; it warns, teaches, and protects us. The body is made to heal itself (with a doctor’s help to set the right conditions), but the actual healing comes from within.

This is also true of our non-physical pain—the social, mental, and emotional part of us. We were also made for connection with others. Children who lack human connection, even if their physical needs are met, can suffer terribly.

So, how do we discover the hidden pain of another person? Have you ever been on the other side—seen, not just for what you show, but for your hidden pain? Because just like with our physical pain, we do a lot to hide it or avoid it.

There’s a story about a little boy—let’s call him Jake, about five or six years old—watching his mom use a sewing machine. Fascinated, he eventually got his finger under the needle, got hurt, and instead of running to his mom, he ran away, knowing he’d be in trouble. Why do we do that, when we’re built for connection?

Do we have the right to investigate or really dig into someone else’s pain?

Have you ever watched an amazing feat of athleticism and felt inspired—felt, “That’s what a human can do!”? But then you think, “Humanity’s got it covered. Some people are just that amazing.” But those stories call us to action. Human beings understand objects and processes with their brains—but people and principles must be understood with the heart.

What excites me about hanging out with Arbinger people is that they get this distinction; they apply their hearts first to understanding people, then apply their brains to solving problems—in that order.

We’ve got a problem of hidden pain. I don’t need to bring statistics—you already know the terrible, catastrophic cost of isolation driven by radical individualism. We distract ourselves from emotional pain, even the pain of boredom. Technology ensures we never have to be bored again, but boredom can be important for creativity, especially in connection with others.

So, do you feel we have the right or obligation to dig into someone else’s pain? As Arbinger facilitators, we might feel we do. But if the shoe’s on the other foot? “I’m good. I’ll let you know if I need help.”

Can you think of a time when someone saw your pain? What was that like?

Participant:

My wife and I are manifestly elderly—we just celebrated our 60th wedding anniversary. We’ve wondered, sometimes, why we needed to continue in this condition, as our capacities and visible abilities diminish, and our pains get more pressing. But responding to each other’s pain has mobilized us to help each other in ways that never occurred to us before, when we were fully capable. Instead of just understanding intellectually, we actually do something. We don’t talk about it, we just do little things for each other, because we can’t do things alone anymore. That has made us more together than ever.

Nate Mitchell:

Old ways of thinking focus on the individual: if you have a problem, you solve it alone, maybe with therapy, and only then are you worthy to rejoin others. That’s why I love the symbol of community—like this piece of pottery I’m holding, with figures painted around it, hands connected in a never-ending circle. We talk about community as “we.” It’s not just teamwork or synergy—it’s almost sacred to walk as “we,” as a family or community.

Nate shares a personal lesson:

I had difficulty at work once, and thought I shouldn’t burden anyone. But a staff member saw I was suffering and said, “You’re not asking for help.” I replied, “No one can really help.” She said, “That’s not the point. The whole idea of ‘we’ is one rule: don’t be the one to weaken the hoop.” Gifts come to us indirectly—passed along hand to hand in the circle. That strengthens the hoop. The lesson for me: ask, “Is this move going to strengthen the hoop? Is that going to strengthen ‘we’?”

Old thinking says positive emotions are good, negative are bad, and we should eliminate the negative ones. But, just as numbing all physical pain would be disastrous, the same goes for eliminating “bad” emotions; you lose the signal to connect. Adolescents sometimes think a good relationship has no friction, but friction is not bad—it’s essential for real connection. Every fire starts with friction. That spark, warmth, and safety in real relationships comes from working through difficulty together.

When we consider sharing or uncovering pain—ours or others’—another question: where’s this friction coming from? Is it the kind that refines and draws us toward our goals, or just drains us? Maybe it’s enough to be curious: is my curiosity in my brain (solving someone as a puzzle) or my heart (truly wanting to understand them)?

There are two ways to exit isolation:

As a unit in a collective

As a member of a body

A unit in a collective is like being one gear in a machine, easily replaceable. But a member of a body—a hand, an organ—has a unique, irreplaceable role. If a body part is missing, the body suffers. When we exclude ourselves, we “dismember” ourselves from the body, by not sharing, opening up, or asking for help.

Participant:

My sensitivity to my wife’s pain is a response to her sensitivity to mine; life happens between us, not just within. Our story isn’t just about two independent people coming together, but about being part of a loving whole, never in danger of being truly excluded. That’s a fundamentally different way to be alive—giving yourself over to someone else isn’t losing yourself, it’s actually how you are most yourself.

Nate Mitchell:

The tendency to isolate is learned; being together is inborn. Joining lives and living as “we” is a process of unbecoming who you never were—unraveling the lie that you exist alone or apart.

It isn’t easy to unravel the individualistic lie that we live apart, but the truth is we are intrinsically connected, inseparable members of each other. That’s the heart of Arbinger’s work.

In next week's episode, we’ll return for the second part of this conversation as those in the room share their own experiences and struggles living in the recognition of this truth—and powerful solutions to their challenges as a result.

Leading Outward is produced by the Arbinger Institute, the premier provider of leadership development and organizational transformation. If you’re ready to build high-performing teams that drive results, explore our solutions at arbinger.com.