Conflict is not only about what we believe; it is about the conditions under which we are asked to think together.
Rather than debating polarisation at the level of content, we can cultivate a countercultural, trust-rich, imaginative way of being together, one that undercuts the soil in which violence thrives.
When we look for questions that soften the ground, honour difference, and invite ease and enchantment, we are calling on presence.
What does calling on presence mean?
It means letting uncertainty, interest, and cocreation without control become allies, a kind of moisturising moss for the imagination. I don’t always manage it. When I rush or feel threatened, my imagination dries quickly.
Lately, I’ve been experimenting with this question:
How can my presence look, feel, sound, or move so that imagination feels both safe and courageous enough to appear?
Here are a few micro-practices I return to. They are simple, small gestures that make dehumanisation and reactivity harder to sustain.
Slow down
When conflict surfaces, my thinking speeds up and narrows. So, I experiment with pauses, deeper listening, and questions that wonder rather than direct.
When a conversation slows and stops trying to master the outcome, it becomes dialogue. Presence deepens. Certainty loosens. We are less likely to react out of fear and more able to stay with complexity without escalating.
Make trust explicit
Genuine dialogue is where trust meets imagination and interest in where the other’s thinking might go. It centres attention, equal turns, and careful listening.
When people feel heard, they are less inclined to dehumanise. When they are not submitted to a deluge of words, but a gentle flow of information that they can absorb and metabolise, they soften.
When you’ve shared your thoughts, land gently and ask: “What do YOU think now?”
Trust turning into habit.
Honour difference, don’t erase it
Instead of erasing divergence, we can hold many perspectives in one relational field.
Stories of I, stories of We, and lived, pulsing experience – what Nora Bateson calls multicontextual mutual learning – help shift us from “us versus them” toward shared complexity.
Invite imagination for tea
Questions like:
What kind of presence helps your imagination feel safe and bold?
What does the tree notice about you as you walk past?
Who do you become when you feel able to think for yourself while learning from others?
Such open questions help people notice the conditions under which new responses can emerge. Imagination quietly widens what feels possible beyond winning, poking or revenge. It works subtly, not dramatically.
Use poetry and metaphor
Image-, feeling-, or song-based language engages parts of us that can hold paradox and emotion without turning everything into argument.
Poetry and beauty allow pain to be expressed indirectly; tension can soften, empathy can re-enter.
Lately, I have been writing many, many short poems, without following any rules, without expecting anything. They are teasing, amusing, can make someone warm, sad or gasp for air… They have become relational gifts. They might stay in a drawer, or be re-read, re-interpreted, or serve to catalyse. I don’t know. It is not for me to say or control.
Practise relational nonviolence
When you’re in a group, offer gentle rounds of equal turns. A few seconds of silence to take notes or reflect. Soft eye contact that says, your thinking matters.
These small, repeatable gestures reopen imagination and make it harder to forget each other’s humanity.
They don’t necessarily end conflict. They help us stay human inside it.
What happens to your breath when disagreement appears? What does curiosity feel like in your shoulders?
These practices are imperfect and ordinary. And that is precisely their strength.
If you’d like to explore these presence-based practices further, I offer Time To Think courses, Future Kind Leaders workshops, and other Imaginaries sessions for groups and teams ready to move beyond relational numbness.
