Grappling with Conflict and Some Inspiring Stories

It’s sometimes funny, sometimes tragic and sometimes interesting to see what pops up in your social media feed. Often, we search the internet on a topic of interest or concern, research a product or read a random article online and wa-la, when next you log onto your social media feed, it’s clogged with articles on the same topic, a myriad of ads for the product you searched and video “shorts” on related or random “stuff”.

These last weeks, my feed is made up of video shorts of plane crashes over the decades, I guess because I had looked up the plane crash in India some weeks back. There’s the political stuff because I have an interest. There’s relationship advice and mental health tips because I have some fascination with those.

Sometimes, you find moments of real wisdom or real inspiration. Just in the last few days, a series of pretty cool stories of the triumph of human perseverance and will popped up in my feed.

But first, if you haven’t read Tammy Lenski’s book “The Conflict Pivot”, if conflict has been a challenge in your life and in whose hasn’t it been, you really should read it and/or subscribe to her email list or catch her podcasts. The book and emails are quick snapshots of great advice on handling conflict. If nothing else, check out the pictorial below for a summary of her conflict pivot framework. Weirdly, or by some intent of the universe, it popped up in my email this week at the same time I was struggling with a minor conflict that had the potential to make a challenge go south quickly.

The idea of understanding your conflict “hooks” and how to navigate them can be life-changing. Of the six conflict hooks Lenski lists in her book, I wouldn’t have ever picked “status” as one of my highest, maybe thee highest, conflict hook for me. Perhaps that’s because when I think of status, I think of people who are driven by the need for money, prestige, or fame. Most of us highly sensitives aren’t driven by any of these things. I’ll likely never own a high-end car because I simply don’t care about it. I don’t own or want a bigger home and would probably come to loathe fame as an introvert who highly values my privacy.

But that’s not really what she’s referring to by “status”. As someone who’s always felt people look at me and think ‘why would she deserve to have that’ or ‘what she has is of lesser value’, I now realize that’s a “stuck story” in my own head that carries a huge emotional charge for me and has created conflict in some relationships over the years. But my story or your story of any conflict isn’t thee story of the conflict, it’s your story of the conflict. As conflicts are often about our own unmet needs, we have the power to change our stories and meet our own needs without requiring other people (over whom we have no control) to do anything.

Lenski tells a very relatable story in the book about a woman who was caregiving her father while feeling resentful toward her brother who wasn’t helping out and seeing her own quality of life diminish in the process. With some coaching from Lenski, she figured out how she could give herself what she needed and re-establish a relationship she deeply desired with her brother. She said the advice she took from Lenski changed her life.

Find the pictorial here:

https://acrobat.adobe.com/id/urn:aaid:sc:VA6C2:27773703-24d0-4311-80d8-0bfc0662594d

And here’s another piece of great advice I’ve read that goes along with having emotional maturity: when you’re feeling triggered, think or say out loud to yourself, “I’m feeling triggered right now, and I need to step away. I can come back to this (fill in the blank) when I’m feeling calmer.” It works. Later, I honestly couldn’t even remember why I felt triggered in the first place. It was obviously something minor and while reacting in the moment could have taken me back down a path I wouldn’t have wanted, I’d stopped it in its tracks with this simple tactic.

On to the inspiring stories. I thought these two were really pretty cool:

While the Titanic was sinking into the icy Atlantic… one man emerged — not in fear, but with purpose.

He wasn’t an officer.
He had no rank.
No whistle.
Just flour on his hands and calm in his soul.

His name was Charles Joughin, the chief baker of the Titanic.

As chaos erupted and people screamed for their lives, he didn’t run for safety. He ran for bread — gathering food for the lifeboats. He helped women and children on board. He pushed the hesitant to safety. And when there were no boats left, he gave up his place… and stayed behind.

He returned to his cabin. Took a couple shots of whiskey.
And waited for the end.

At 2:20 a.m., the Titanic vanished beneath the waves.
Joughin was pulled into the freezing ocean.

He floated for more than two hours in near-freezing water… and survived.

According to him, he never panicked.
He stayed calm. He barely felt cold.

Was it the whiskey?
Science says no — alcohol worsens hypothermia.

What saved him was something else:
His mindset. His control. His steady presence.

Because in the darkest moments, true strength doesn’t always scream.
Sometimes… it bakes bread, helps others, and simply keeps floating.

Wishing you a peaceful night, dear friends.
Stay warm, stay kind — and never underestimate quiet courage. 

2nd story:

In the frozen grip of January 1945, 21-year-old Gerda Weissmann was forced on a 350-mile death march alongside 4,000 other Jewish women. They trudged across Nazi-occupied territory—starving, exhausted, hunted by cold and cruelty. By May, only 120 of them were still alive.

Gerda was one of them.

She hadn’t bathed in three years. Her hair had turned white. She weighed just 68 pounds. She stood barefoot in the doorway of a factory, moments from collapse, when she saw a vehicle rolling toward her. It bore the white star of the American Army.

A soldier stepped out and walked toward her. He asked if she was all right.
She looked into his eyes and replied, “We are Jewish.”

He paused, then said words that would change her life: “So am I.”

That soldier was Kurt Klein, a U.S. officer whose parents had been sent to Auschwitz. He offered her his hand. He held the door open. And for the next 50 years, Gerda would say, “He never stopped holding it open for me.”

They married in Paris, moved to New York, and built a family—three children, eight grandchildren, and a legacy of resilience and grace.

Gerda became a powerful voice for human rights. Her memoir, All But My Life, tells her story so others never forget.

She survived the darkest of times—and showed the world what hope looks like.
#HolocaustSurvivor #GerdaWeissmannKlein

How ‘bout that for inspiration?

Happy Sunday.

Peace.