“Moving stranger, does it really matter, as long as you’re not afraid to feel?”
Kate Bush, Moving
This is the third part of a guide to staying grounded in complexity. The other parts are here.
Part Four: Moving Through
No conversation, session or workshop goes entirely to plan. So, do you know what you will you do when something shifts or surfaces unexpectedly?
The challenges when dealing with complexity are a spectrum, from disengagement at one end to hostility at the other. Each requires a different response, and learning to read where you are on that spectrum is in itself a crucial skill.
When the room goes flat
Disengagement might look like no one lifting their eyes, or the same two people speaking while everyone else stares at their phones or out of the window. It might feel like a heaviness that settles after lunch or late in a long day.
My suggestion is to start with silence. Let it sit. Sometimes people just need a moment to wrap their heads around the question or the topic.
If that doesn’t shift things, respond practically. Ask if the break needs to come forward, and if so, be clear about what you’ll need from people when they return. A light acknowledgment of shared humanity helps here. If it’s the post-lunch slump, name it. You’re probably feeling it too.
And if none of that works, you can just say out loud what you’re seeing, directly and with genuine curiosity rather than judgement. Tell the room you’re noticing a lot of disengagement and you’re wondering why. Check in: are you asking the wrong questions? Is this boring? Are there other pressing demands that this session is interrupting? People who are disengaged are usually waiting for permission to say what they actually think. Give them that permission and be prepared to listen when they tell you. If what they say is that you have just asked them the most boring, irrelevant question ever…well it’s good information if nothing else!
When it goes off on a tangent
Between disengagement and hostility lies a quieter but equally common challenge: the rabbit holes. A comment that opens a door nobody planned for. A conversation that takes on a life of its own and pulls the whole room somewhere unexpected.
The question to ask yourself in that moment is: is this important enough to follow? Unfortunately, there is no rule for this. Again, it requires you to trust yourself, your instincts and the feeling of those present.
Sometimes a tangent is where the real conversation lives. The thing people have been circling around all morning finally surfaces sideways, unexpectedly. When that happens, go with it. The session has found its own wisdom and your job is to follow, not to lead it back to the agenda.
Sometimes it is genuinely pulling energy away from where it needs to go. When that is the case, you can redirect warmly and without apology. A light touch, a smile, an acknowledgment that it is interesting and then a gentle return.
And sometimes what surfaces is important but not for now. Here, you can name it. Write it down visibly so the room can see you taking it seriously. Say clearly that it matters and that it will be returned to, whether later in the session or in a different conversation entirely.
This both honours the contribution and releases the room to move forward without anyone feeling dismissed or unheard. The judgement between these responses is yours - no guide can make it for you (sorry).
That is precisely why the work of the earlier sections matters so much. The more grounded and present you are, the more you can trust the call you make.
When hostility is directed at you
Sarcasm, undermining and gaslighting can happen, particularly in sensitive spaces where your presence or your mandate may itself be contested.
Assuming you are safe, try to keep your eye on what you actually need from this person in this session. Maybe consider whether you can get it through whatever else is happening in the room. You may not need to immediately resolve the tension.
Remind yourself (again, and again if necessary) that it is almost certainly not about you. They may have walked in carrying something you know nothing about.
If it is about you, or if the behaviour is disrupting the room, find a moment during a break and approach them directly to check in: “I’m sensing you might be feeling frustrated. Is there anything I can do to help? And if you feel this isn’t a good use of your time, I won’t be offended if you leave.”
Curiosity, care, and a gentle exit route. And then, if necessary, a quiet reminder about the need for respect and to be able to disagree without it becoming personal. The order is important, because going straight to the boundary rarely works. Lead with genuine curiosity and care and most people will meet you there.
If it feels or becomes unsafe, I hope it goes without saying that you should get whatever help you need.
When the room turns on itself
This is the hardest territory: when the hostility isn’t directed at you but between people who may carry real history, real grievance, real pain between them. Let them say what they need to say. You are not there to pass judgment or police behaviour. Remind yourself of that (as often as required).
If it risks becoming uncomfortable, bring the room back with a calm reminder about the need to treat each other with respect, even in disagreement. Speak privately to individuals if necessary.
Otherwise, my suggestion is to let it be. There is often wisdom in friction. It is certainly rich information and in the aftermath you can analyse how relevant it is to your work. It may shape future engagement.
As always, listen actively and reflect back what you are hearing. Name the consensus where it exists and name the divergence where it doesn’t. And when the room feels most fractured bear in mind that consensus might not be that important at this stage. You cannot build genuine agreement on top of unacknowledged conflict.
Sometimes the most valuable thing a session can do is surface honestly where the divergence lies. Consensus may come later, but first, everything that stands in its way needs to be seen.
Taking care of yourself
Everything in this part so far has been about reading and responding to others. But there is one more thing to attend to in the middle of a difficult session, and it is the most important and least discussed. Yourself.
You are not a neutral conduit. You are a human being, working with other human beings through complexity, and that has a cost. You will feel it. You may feel your chest tighten. Your thoughts race. A creeping sense that you are losing the thread or that the room is beyond you. That is your nervous system doing its job.
Start with the body. Breath is always available to you. A slow exhale will do more in ten seconds than any technique. Press your feet into the floor. If you have an anchor (a gesture, a touch of finger to thumb, a smooth stone in your pocket), use it.
Remember too that your calm is not just for you. When you stay settled, you are actively helping others to settle. People co-regulate with the most grounded person in the room. In this setting, your inner state is a resource you are offering to everyone present.
And if you find yourself genuinely struggling, if the room has gone somewhere that is stretching you beyond what you can hold alone in that moment, you are allowed to say so: “I’m finding this quite challenging. Can we take five minutes to reflect on where we’ve got to?”
This is often the most honest and courageous thing you can do. It models exactly what you have been asking of everyone else. It says that difficulty is allowed here, that we can name it, that we can pause and breathe and continue. It also almost always works too, because everyone else is usually also feeling it.
When it’s going well
It isn’t always a battle. Sometimes everything comes together and the room finds its own momentum. You will know it when you feel it. Engagement that doesn’t need to be coaxed. Thoughtfulness in the contributions. Genuine curiosity between people who may have walked in as strangers or adversaries. A calm, generative energy. Humour that arrives naturally and brings people closer rather than creating distance. People building on each other’s thinking, surprising themselves and each other.
When that happens, notice it too. Let yourself feel it. Try not to immediately look for what might go wrong next.
However it went, whatever occurred, when the session ends, say thank you as a genuine acknowledgment of what people brought into the room. They didn’t have to be here, they chose to. That choice made the work you did together possible, and that deserves to be named.