Sometimes it’s worth asking: what could the opposite look like?

Purpose-driven work often feels like being in a fight for, against or with something.

The fight against climate change.

The fight to end slavery.

The fight for peace.

The fight with that colleague who just won’t collaborate.

The fight with that contractor who just doesn’t want to understand.

The fight against ourselves, which we often don’t even notice is happening.

It’s a narrative of competition, where we must fight to stay ahead, and its shadow — where prosperity is built on the backs of the most vulnerable among us, and the fragile generosity of our planet. The survival of the fittest.

Darwin’s theory itself was a shaped by the emergence of capitalism as a theory and organising framwork (but that’s for another post).

In this story of competitive advantage, we are always fighting to defend or achieve something as a means of evolution. It’s exhausting, and it’s driving us further apart than ever. Driving us into depression, loneliness, or groups defined by their opposition to an “other".

I have always been fascinated by bringing opposites together. Its shaped my peacemaking tendencies, an ability to see things from multiple perspectives, and my capacity to make sense of complexity and find the connecting points between different views, approaches or possibilities.

In my coaching practice, I’ve often seen the power of exploring the opposite when someone is pained or feeling cornered by a conflict, especially when a fight seems like the only way out of a situation.

By facing and accepting the feelings that drives us towards conflict, we can uncover a new strategy for resolution, based on connection.

One recent client was feeling rage after a negotiation in which she felt defensiveness and resistance to engage from a major business partner. When she gathered the courage to compassionately accept her rage, she realised that it was covering a feeling of powerlessness that mirrored her business partner’s position: they lacked decision-making power to immediately and meaningfully respond to her needs, but were not able to express this for fear directly.

She saw that the situation, and the brewing conflict, could fuel a vicious cycle of disconnection that would be even more costly to her work.

Exploring the opposite response revealed “invitation to engage” as an alternative to “demanding support”.

By accepting that the situation had no immediate resolution, she was able to consider making an invitation to compassionately bring her partner back to the conversation. She could acknowledge their predicament, celebrate the impact they had created together to date, engage them with her vision for the future, and propose an exploratory exchange over time towards shared goals.

It wasn’t the resolution she originally wanted, but a more generative way forward given the reality of the situation.

Exploring the opposite brought her back to a position of power by opening the door to connection. An outstretched hand to bridge a dark moment for both parties.

It also opened up a sense of possibility and creativity, now that she wasn’t backed into a corner.

When we open to connection, aided by curiosity, courage and compassion, we can stumble upon possibilities that go beyond resolution towards transformation.

After all, we are all in this together.

So next time you feel yourself reaching for your armour because you don’t feel you have a choice, consider what the opposite might look like.

Sometimes the most powerful retaliation is curiosity...

Sometimes the most radical activism is joy...

Sometimes the antidote to uncertainty is to lean deeper into the questions.

Sometimes.

Not always.

But it’s worth asking: what would the opposite look like?

Thanks for reading. I’m Amayah. I help people unleash creativity and thrive. Follow me here for tips and stories about thriving in life and leadership, and sign up to my newsletter, The Field, for courses, content and more.