Emotional Agility: Get Unstuck, Embrace Change, and Thrive in Work and Life

by Susan David

And yet, even in the relative peace and prosperity of the United States, where I have resided for more than a decade, so many people still struggle to cope and live their best lives. Just about everyone I know is stressed-out and overloaded with the demands of career, family, health, finances, and a slew of other personal pressures along with large societal forces such as an unsettled economy, rapid cultural change, and a never-ending onslaught of disruptive technologies that distract us at every turn. Meanwhile, multitasking—today’s go-to response to being overworked and overwhelmed—brings us no relief. One recent study found the effect of multitasking on people’s performance was actually comparable to driving drunk. Other studies show that low-grade daily stress (from the lunch box that needs to be filled at the last minute, the cell phone battery that dies right as you need to get on a critical conference call, the train that’s always running late, the looming pile of bills) can prematurely age brain cells by as much as a decade.

And yet, even in the relative peace and prosperity of the United States, where I have resided for more than a decade, so many people still struggle to cope and live their best lives. Just about everyone I know is stressed-out and overloaded with the demands of career, family, health, finances, and a slew of other personal pressures along with large societal forces such as an unsettled economy, rapid cultural change, and a never-ending onslaught of disruptive technologies that distract us at every turn. Meanwhile, multitasking—today’s go-to response to being overworked and overwhelmed—brings us no relief. One recent study found the effect of multitasking on people’s performance was actually comparable to driving drunk. Other studies show that low-grade daily stress (from the lunch box that needs to be filled at the last minute, the cell phone battery that dies right as you need to get on a critical conference call, the train that’s always running late, the looming pile of bills) can prematurely age brain cells by as much as a decade.

We all do this in one way or another. We walk (or run) around the blocks of our lives over and over, obeying rules that are written, implied, or simply imagined, getting hooked by ways of being and doing that don’t serve us. I often say that we act like wind-up toys, repeatedly bumping into the same walls, never realizing there may be an open door just to our left or our right. Even when we acknowledge that we’re hooked and could use some help, the people we turn to—family, friends, kindly bosses, therapists—aren’t always helpful. They have their own issues, limitations, and preoccupations.

We all do this in one way or another. We walk (or run) around the blocks of our lives over and over, obeying rules that are written, implied, or simply imagined, getting hooked by ways of being and doing that don’t serve us. I often say that we act like wind-up toys, repeatedly bumping into the same walls, never realizing there may be an open door just to our left or our right. Even when we acknowledge that we’re hooked and could use some help, the people we turn to—family, friends, kindly bosses, therapists—aren’t always helpful. They have their own issues, limitations, and preoccupations.

It isn’t just that these dubious, not-always-accurate stories we tell ourselves leave us conflicted or waste our time or result in some chilly days around the house. The bigger issue is the conflict between the world these stories describe and the world we want to live in, the world where we could truly thrive. During the average day, most of us speak around sixteen thousand words. But our thoughts—our internal voices—produce thousands more. This voice of consciousness is a silent but tireless chatterbox, secretly barraging us with observations, comments, and analyses without pause. Moreover, this ceaseless voice is what literature professors call an unreliable narrator—think Humbert Humbert in Lolita, or Amy Dunne in Gone Girl. As with these two characters, whose accounts of events can’t be entirely trusted, our own internal narrator may be biased, confused, or even engaged in willful self-justification or deception. Even worse, it will not shut up. You may be able to stop yourself from sharing every thought that pops into your head, but stopping yourself from having those thoughts in the first place? Good luck. While we often accept the statements bubbling up from within this river of incessant chatter as being factual, most are actually a complex mixture of evaluations and judgments, intensified by our emotions. Some of these thoughts are positive and helpful; others are negative and unhelpful. In either case, our inner voice is rarely neutral or dispassionate. For exam...

It isn’t just that these dubious, not-always-accurate stories we tell ourselves leave us conflicted or waste our time or result in some chilly days around the house. The bigger issue is the conflict between the world these stories describe and the world we want to live in, the world where we could truly thrive. During the average day, most of us speak around sixteen thousand words. But our thoughts—our internal voices—produce thousands more. This voice of consciousness is a silent but tireless chatterbox, secretly barraging us with observations, comments, and analyses without pause. Moreover, this ceaseless voice is what literature professors call an unreliable narrator—think Humbert Humbert in Lolita, or Amy Dunne in Gone Girl. As with these two characters, whose accounts of events can’t be entirely trusted, our own internal narrator may be biased, confused, or even engaged in willful self-justification or deception. Even worse, it will not shut up. You may be able to stop yourself from sharing every thought that pops into your head, but stopping yourself from having those thoughts in the first place? Good luck. While we often accept the statements bubbling up from within this river of incessant chatter as being factual, most are actually a complex mixture of evaluations and judgments, intensified by our emotions. Some of these thoughts are positive and helpful; others are negative and unhelpful. In either case, our inner voice is rarely neutral or dispassionate. For exam...

Getting yourself hooked begins when you accept thoughts as facts. I’m no good at this. I always screw it up. Often, you then start avoiding situations that evoke those thoughts. I’m not even going to try. Or you may endlessly replay the thought. The last time I tried it was so humiliating. Sometimes, perhaps following the well-meaning advice of a friend or a family member, you attempt to will these thoughts away. I shouldn’t have thoughts like this. It’s counterproductive. Or, soldiering on, you force yourself to do what you dread, even when it’s the hook itself, not anything you genuinely value, that’s driving the action. I’ve got to try. I’ve got to learn to like this, even if it kills me. All this internal chatter is not only misleading; it’s exhausting. It’s sapping important mental resources you could put to much better use.

Getting yourself hooked begins when you accept thoughts as facts. I’m no good at this. I always screw it up. Often, you then start avoiding situations that evoke those thoughts. I’m not even going to try. Or you may endlessly replay the thought. The last time I tried it was so humiliating. Sometimes, perhaps following the well-meaning advice of a friend or a family member, you attempt to will these thoughts away. I shouldn’t have thoughts like this. It’s counterproductive. Or, soldiering on, you force yourself to do what you dread, even when it’s the hook itself, not anything you genuinely value, that’s driving the action. I’ve got to try. I’ve got to learn to like this, even if it kills me. All this internal chatter is not only misleading; it’s exhausting. It’s sapping important mental resources you could put to much better use.

Here’s how a random thought can turn into a persistent hook: Internal Chatterbox + Technicolor Thought Blending + Emotional Punch = Hooked 1. It starts when we listen to our Internal Chatterbox . . . I haven’t spent any mother-daughter time with Jane for a few days. I’m just not around enough. I need to be with her more. But how do I manage that with everything I’ve got going on at work? I just can’t keep up. Michelle Smith seems to have the time to create special moments with her daughter. She’s such a good mother. She really has her priorities straight. What’s wrong with me? I’ve got it all wrong. 2. Thanks to Technicolor Thought Blending, the chatter mixes with memories, visual images, and symbols . . . Just look at my little girl. She’s growing up so fast. I can almost smell the snack my mother used to make for me when I got home from school. I should bake treats for Jane. I can already see her, graduated from high school and leaving home—with that no-good Ricky Petersen!—and hating me. Why is this client emailing me about work on a Saturday? I’m going to give that jerk a piece of my mind right now. And NO, JANE. I CAN’T TAKE YOU SHOPPING. WHAT PART OF “I HAVE TO WORK” DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND? 3. Add the Emotional Punch . . . I can’t believe I just snapped like that at my beloved child. I feel so guilty. I’m going to die alone because my daughter hates me. I used to love my job, but now I hate it; it’s robbing me of my family time. I’m a rotten, miserable failure. My lif...

Here’s how a random thought can turn into a persistent hook: Internal Chatterbox + Technicolor Thought Blending + Emotional Punch = Hooked 1. It starts when we listen to our Internal Chatterbox . . . I haven’t spent any mother-daughter time with Jane for a few days. I’m just not around enough. I need to be with her more. But how do I manage that with everything I’ve got going on at work? I just can’t keep up. Michelle Smith seems to have the time to create special moments with her daughter. She’s such a good mother. She really has her priorities straight. What’s wrong with me? I’ve got it all wrong. 2. Thanks to Technicolor Thought Blending, the chatter mixes with memories, visual images, and symbols . . . Just look at my little girl. She’s growing up so fast. I can almost smell the snack my mother used to make for me when I got home from school. I should bake treats for Jane. I can already see her, graduated from high school and leaving home—with that no-good Ricky Petersen!—and hating me. Why is this client emailing me about work on a Saturday? I’m going to give that jerk a piece of my mind right now. And NO, JANE. I CAN’T TAKE YOU SHOPPING. WHAT PART OF “I HAVE TO WORK” DO YOU NOT UNDERSTAND? 3. Add the Emotional Punch . . . I can’t believe I just snapped like that at my beloved child. I feel so guilty. I’m going to die alone because my daughter hates me. I used to love my job, but now I hate it; it’s robbing me of my family time. I’m a rotten, miserable failure. My lif...

Life is just a hell of a lot easier when you don’t have to analyze every choice (as at those trendy restaurants where the waiter keeps asking you ever more exquisitely detailed questions about your preferences until you want to scream, “Just bring me the damn salad! Dump mayonnaise on it! I don’t care!”). We would all be stuck in paralysis through analysis without our own personal rules of thumb, which allow us to get through the routine stuff without expending a lot of mental energy.

Life is just a hell of a lot easier when you don’t have to analyze every choice (as at those trendy restaurants where the waiter keeps asking you ever more exquisitely detailed questions about your preferences until you want to scream, “Just bring me the damn salad! Dump mayonnaise on it! I don’t care!”). We would all be stuck in paralysis through analysis without our own personal rules of thumb, which allow us to get through the routine stuff without expending a lot of mental energy.

If human beings lacked the predictive ability of heuristics (“strong handshake, nice smile—seems like a nice guy”) and needed to consciously process every facial expression, conversation, and piece of information anew, we’d have no time for actually living life.

If human beings lacked the predictive ability of heuristics (“strong handshake, nice smile—seems like a nice guy”) and needed to consciously process every facial expression, conversation, and piece of information anew, we’d have no time for actually living life.

Unfortunately, though, our snap impressions can be wrong. They can be based on unfair and inaccurate stereotypes or manipulated by con artists. And once established, they can be tough to reconsider and change. When we make quick judgments, we often overvalue the information that is readily available and undervalue subtleties that might take a while to dig out.

Unfortunately, though, our snap impressions can be wrong. They can be based on unfair and inaccurate stereotypes or manipulated by con artists. And once established, they can be tough to reconsider and change. When we make quick judgments, we often overvalue the information that is readily available and undervalue subtleties that might take a while to dig out.

In Thinking Fast and Slow, the psychologist Daniel Kahneman described the human mind as operating in two basic modes of thought. System 1 thoughts are typically fast, automatic, effortless, associative, and implicit, which means they are not available to immediate introspection. They often carry a lot of emotional weight and are ruled by habit and, as a result, are very good at getting us hooked. System 2 thoughts are slower and more deliberative. They require much more effort and a deeper level of attention. They are also more flexible and amenable to rules that we consciously establish. It is these System 2 operations that allow us to...

In Thinking Fast and Slow, the psychologist Daniel Kahneman described the human mind as operating in two basic modes of thought. System 1 thoughts are typically fast, automatic, effortless, associative, and implicit, which means they are not available to immediate introspection. They often carry a lot of emotional weight and are ruled by habit and, as a result, are very good at getting us hooked. System 2 thoughts are slower and more deliberative. They require much more effort and a deeper level of attention. They are also more flexible and amenable to rules that we consciously establish. It is these System 2 operations that allow us to...

I remember once watching Bill O’Reilly talking with David Letterman. The conservative pundit posed some question and then began to badger the comedian, saying, “It’s an easy question!” Letterman res...

I remember once watching Bill O’Reilly talking with David Letterman. The conservative pundit posed some question and then began to badger the comedian, saying, “It’s an easy question!” Letterman res...

The lesson: Once our minds slip into default mode, it takes a great deal of flexibility to override this state. This is why specialists are often the last ones to notice commonsense solutions to simple problems, a limitation economist Thorstein Veblen called the “trained incapacity” of experts. Inflated confidence leads old hands to ignore contextual information, and the more familiar an expert is with a particular kind of problem, the more likely he is to pull a prefabricated solution out of his memory bank rather than respond to the specific case at hand.

The lesson: Once our minds slip into default mode, it takes a great deal of flexibility to override this state. This is why specialists are often the last ones to notice commonsense solutions to simple problems, a limitation economist Thorstein Veblen called the “trained incapacity” of experts. Inflated confidence leads old hands to ignore contextual information, and the more familiar an expert is with a particular kind of problem, the more likely he is to pull a prefabricated solution out of his memory bank rather than respond to the specific case at hand.

In another study, psychology professionals were asked to watch an interview conducted with a person they were told was either a job applicant or a psychiatric patient. The clinicians were instructed to apply their expertise and evaluate the interviewee. When they believed the interviewee was applying for a job, the professionals characterized him as normal and fairly well adjusted; when told that he was a patient, however, they described this same person as distressed and impaired. Instead of paying close attention to the actual person in front of them, the clinicians relied on the superficial cues that, through longtime experience, allowed them to make diagnoses “in their sleep.” Truth be told, they might as well have been asleep.

In another study, psychology professionals were asked to watch an interview conducted with a person they were told was either a job applicant or a psychiatric patient. The clinicians were instructed to apply their expertise and evaluate the interviewee. When they believed the interviewee was applying for a job, the professionals characterized him as normal and fairly well adjusted; when told that he was a patient, however, they described this same person as distressed and impaired. Instead of paying close attention to the actual person in front of them, the clinicians relied on the superficial cues that, through longtime experience, allowed them to make diagnoses “in their sleep.” Truth be told, they might as well have been asleep.

Imagine an exceptionally bright, hardworking student who graduates at the top of her high school class and heads off to one of those best-of-the-best colleges everyone wants to get into. She arrives at college to find that everyone around her is just as smart and dedicated as she is. In fact, some of her new classmates are even more accomplished, come from sophisticated families, and went to fancier high schools. If our student identifies too narrowly with herself as the “geeky brainiac” or “the smartest kid in the class,” as she always has, what’s going to happen to her sense of self? As she struggles to keep up with all the elite students surrounding her, she’ll need a healthy dose of emotional agility to define herself in a new, broader, and fluid way. To do that, she’ll need to have compassion for her struggles as a small fish in a suddenly bigger and more competitive pond. Compassion gives us the freedom to redefine ourselves as well as the all-important freedom to fail, which contains within it the freedom to take the risks that allow us to be truly creative.

Industrialized society, especially now that it’s amped up with so much technology, encourages us to push ourselves to our limits. Certain professions—law, medicine, investment banking, business, technology—bake that intensity right into the job description. But even people in less competitive careers feel the pressure. We all now run faster, work harder, stay up later, and multitask more aggressively just to keep up. In this environment, in which we’re expected to approach life like an endless Ironman competition, showing yourself compassion can be seen as a sign that you lack ambition or don’t care about success as much as the person next to you does. There’s a misconception that you need to be tough on yourself to maintain your edge. But people who are more accepting of their own failures may actually be more motivated to improve. Self-compassionate people aim just as high as self-critical people do. The difference is that self-compassionate people don’t fall apart when, as sometimes happens, they don’t meet their goals. It could be that self-compassion actually sharpens your edge. After all, it’s associated with health behaviors such as eating right, exercising, sleeping well, and managing stress during tough times, which is when you need to care for yourself the most. It even strengthens your immune system, helping to ward off illness, while encouraging social connection and positive emotion. All of this helps you to keep on truckin’ and be your best self.

When I work with executives in groups, I often do an exercise that seems like a silly game for little kids but that has a surprisingly profound effect. I ask everyone to write on a sticky note the deepest fear they have about themselves, or any unsurfaced “subtext” they carry with them into their work, relationships, and lives: “I’m boring,” or “I’m unlovable,” or “I’m a fraud,” or “I’m a bad person.” Then I invite each executive to slap that sticky note onto his or her chest, and we put on some music and pretend we’re at a party. Everyone shakes everyone else’s hand, looks that person in the eye, and introduces himself or herself with “Hi, I’m boring. Nice to meet you,” or whatever they’ve written down. (By the way, “I’m boring” is my label. I was always “the boring one,” or so it seemed to me.) This is an enormously powerful experience. Afterward, the executives invariably tell me that the ugly “truth” they have stuck on themselves, the harsh evaluation that has had so much power over them, has been tamed. I get emails years later in which people tell me what a relief it is to be able to see a thought as just a thought. They’ve given their fear a name, and then are able to have had some fun at its expense. By doing so, they create more space to be themselves. They’ve stepped out. You can get a hint of this phenomenon simply by staring at the letters that spell your name. You’ve seen them so many times that you skip over multiple levels of representation and interpretatio...

If you rise high enough in an organization, eventually you’ll get a staff, and the staff will send reports. But you, the executive, need to decide which report to act on and which to set aside, remembering that, like self-serving courtiers, thoughts and emotions don’t always speak the truth and that they come and go. Which is why we need to treat these reports as mere position papers, subject to our evaluation, rather than as representations of solid reality leading to action points. Thoughts and emotions contain information, not directions. Some of the information we act on, some we mark as situations to be watched, and some we treat as nonsense to be pitched into the circular file. Emotional agility means having any number of troubling thoughts or emotions and still managing to act in a way that serves how you most want to live. That’s what it means to step out and off the hook.