ThinkBlog

A relic from the humanistic, psychoanalytic self-report diagnostic tools of the 1950s remains at least one designed by Joseph Luft and Harrington Ingham: the Johari and Nohari “windows.” You pick five or six from 55 static adjectives, alphabetically arranged in a grid, about yourself; then you have your friends (or whomever) pick five or six from the same list, and compare your results in a grid (the windows compute this for you).

Kevan has designed one that is particularly useful, sleek, and accessible; I recommend it if you want to give it a go.

What’s curious is that, though the Johari can be for your friends and acquaintances a nice way to pass three minutes while complimenting you, the Nohari is something that almost no one touches. When I posted both links from my IM away message, I got more responses than I expected from the former, and only two from the latter.

Both individuals who responded know that I trust them enough for them to lay bare my heinousness before me. It fulfills Proverbs 27:6,

“Faithful are the wounds of a friend,
But deceitful are the kisses of an enemy.”

Now, I don’t recommend going around stabbing and punching your friends; because you will then be in jail with no friends, and rightly so. But I know that there are a few friends I can remember throughout my life with great fondness and respect because they called me on my bulls—t and didn’t let me get away with dishonesty or bile like some yes-men employed by a corrupt dictator.

It’s a really, really common thing for guys to console other guys in a roundabout way. If they are just enough of a friend to be your yes-man, they’ll get you riled up, let you spew as much nonsense as you can, and then agree with you—”Ya dude she was like totally a total —tch, fah rill.” Then they’ll buy you another round. In light of Mt 12:36 and all the rest, why would you want a yes-man? But there was one time more than half a decade ago that I was going on and on about what “she” had done to me, &c., the usual indignation at that stage of grief—and my friend asked me pointed questions about what exactly I was upset about, and about what perhaps I’d done to “her” (I frankly don’t recall the exact person, isn’t that something?). Not only did it de-fuse (and diffuse!) my anger, it shamed me and brought me back to reality. I didn’t like it at the time, and I pouted like a kid for about twenty minutes that he wasn’t “with me,” but I appreciate that one time more than all the rounds I was ever bought by friends who weren’t willing to come through for me with an honest word for fear of my reaction. (Thanks, Dan. )

If you have the such and such, then, I recommend putting aside two and a half minutes some rainy afternoon and sending out links to both your “windows.” (And for the remainder of the hour, pestering your friends to fill out both….)

Technorati Tags: friendship, wisdom, breaking up, johari, nohari, humanism

A relic from the humanistic, psychoanalytic self-report diagnostic tools of the 1950s remains at least one designed by Joseph Luft and Harrington Ingham: the Johari and Nohari “windows.” You pick five or six from 55 static adjectives, alphabetically arranged in a grid, about yourself; then you have your friends (or whomever) pick five or six from the same list, and compare your results in a grid (the windows compute this for you).

Kevan has designed one that is particularly useful, sleek, and accessible; I recommend it if you want to give it a go.

What’s curious is that, though the Johari can be for your friends and acquaintances a nice way to pass three minutes while complimenting you, the Nohari is something that almost no one touches. When I posted both links from my IM away message, I got more responses than I expected from the former, and only two from the latter.

Both individuals who responded know that I trust them enough for them to lay bare my heinousness before me. It fulfills Proverbs 27:6,

“Faithful are the wounds of a friend,
But deceitful are the kisses of an enemy.”

Now, I don’t recommend going around stabbing and punching your friends; because you will then be in jail with no friends, and rightly so. But I know that there are a few friends I can remember throughout my life with great fondness and respect because they called me on my bulls—t and didn’t let me get away with dishonesty or bile like some yes-men employed by a corrupt dictator.

It’s a really, really common thing for guys to console other guys in a roundabout way. If they are just enough of a friend to be your yes-man, they’ll get you riled up, let you spew as much nonsense as you can, and then agree with you—”Ya dude she was like totally a total —tch, fah rill.” Then they’ll buy you another round. In light of Mt 12:36 and all the rest, why would you want a yes-man? But there was one time more than half a decade ago that I was going on and on about what “she” had done to me, &c., the usual indignation at that stage of grief—and my friend asked me pointed questions about what exactly I was upset about, and about what perhaps I’d done to “her” (I frankly don’t recall the exact person, isn’t that something?). Not only did it de-fuse (and diffuse!) my anger, it shamed me and brought me back to reality. I didn’t like it at the time, and I pouted like a kid for about twenty minutes that he wasn’t “with me,” but I appreciate that one time more than all the rounds I was ever bought by friends who weren’t willing to come through for me with an honest word for fear of my reaction. (Thanks, Dan. )

If you have the such and such, then, I recommend putting aside two and a half minutes some rainy afternoon and sending out links to both your “windows.” (And for the remainder of the hour, pestering your friends to fill out both….)

Technorati Tags: friendship, wisdom, breaking up, johari, nohari, humanism