Cole: ‘Shock, Uncertainty, and Conviction’

I was in my late 20s, single, and working for an environmental engineering company when one of my colleagues decided to set me up with his wife’s friend. At that time, I was also moonlighting as a bartender for an event catering company and had a gig the night of the planned double date. Fortunately, it was an early event, so I would have plenty of time to meet up at the restaurant.

Unfortunately, the event ran longer than expected and, because this was before the invention of cellphones, I had no way to let my colleague know I would be late. I arrived about a half hour after I was supposed to and was given a rather disapproving look from my “date.” The evening turned out better than expected — given her initial response — and, feeling as though this woman and I had a connection, I was hopeful there might be a second date. At the end of the evening, she somewhat reluctantly gave me her phone number, and we all went our separate ways. 

When I called a few days later, she quickly let me know how disappointed she was in my recent tardiness and that she was looking for a partner who was more responsible and considerate — not like all the other guys she had dated. She made it clear that she was not interested in pursuing a relationship with me. I was genuinely shocked. Not only was she mistaken about my intentions, but she wasn’t even willing to get to know me and see that maybe my actions that evening were not an accurate reflection of who I was. I genuinely thought I was one of the more responsible, considerate, and caring people out there and not at all like “all of the other guys” she may have gone out with. I certainly had many faults and flaws, but I believed thoughtlessness, irresponsibility, and carelessness were not high on the list. 

It was as if the bottom had fallen out, and I felt a very strong urge to defend myself by telling her how wrong she was about me and that she was making a grave mistake and would miss out on being with a great guy. As I was about to start my diatribe, a miraculous realization came to me: It wasn’t about the truth of who I was — it was about the truth of her experience, and she experienced me (through a set of specific circumstances) as irresponsible and uncaring.

Instead of launching into my defensive and angry response, I simply said, “I understand and thanks for being honest with me.” When I say “miraculous” I truly mean it because that’s not how I would have normally responded to that kind of situation. When I hung up the phone, a calm presence swept over me, and I felt truly grateful for having had the opportunity for that kind of interaction.

Little did I know that what took place back then would introduce me to a contemplative concept decades before it was ever taught to me in my graduate program at Naropa University. I honestly don’t know how it turned out the way it did, but it was my first exposure to the construct of “Shock, Uncertainty, and Conviction,” an ego-driven cycle where we experience a challenge to our fixed view of ourselves (ego), then feel fear and doubt about who we believe we are and, as a result, double down on our stories, getting stuck in our fixed mindsets. In many ways, it’s how our ego gets created and then reinforced over and over again.

The “Shock” is our ego’s Code Red or DEFCON 1, where the perceived threat level to the stories we cling to is at its highest level and we are most ready for emotional war. It’s when we feel disrespected, misunderstood, or misrepresented — much like when that woman said I was irresponsible and inconsiderate all those years ago.

The “Uncertainty” is that bottomless feeling we have when our stories get challenged by an external source. It creates fear and doubt, shaking the foundation of who we think we are.

The “Conviction” is that defensive, self-righteous reaction to double-down on our stories and do whatever necessary to hold on to ourselves and prove the threat to be wrong. This all happens within milliseconds, so it is very difficult to observe, but the felt experience of an elevated heart rate, anger, and impulsive reactivity shows that our brains are processing it like a threat.

Tibetan Buddhist nun and author Pema Chödrön (and disciple of Chögyam Trungpa Rinpoche, founder of Naropa) calls it getting “hooked.” It’s the fear of the underlying threat to our ego followed by the impulsive urge to defend, driving our thoughts, actions, and reactions.

We are all going to feel “Shock” at some point (or at many points) in our lives — it’s just part of the human experience. We will also feel the “Uncertainty” as we try to make sense of a perceived emotional threat. This, however, is our choice point. We can either impulsively react, by doubling down on our “Conviction,” or make a pivotal shift and, through mindfulness, self-reflection and authenticity, generate a state of equanimity for ourselves and anyone else involved. We are all capable of this generosity of spirit and the ability to adapt our beliefs in any given situation.

Somehow, during that phone call, I was able to have a moment of clarity and break the “Shock, Uncertainty, and Conviction” cycle. Instead of doubling down on my story, I was able to adapt to the present moment and have compassion and understanding for someone else’s experience and truth.

Jeff Cole is a licensed professional counselor, board certified leadership and performance coach, certified meditation instructor, and graduate of Naropa’s Contemplative Psychology program. He can be reached at jmcole28@gmail.com.