Five Quick Views of the Enneagram

The graphics below briefly summarize various approaches to understanding personality patterns at each of the nine Enneagram points.

First, the most basic self-images, using Karen Horney's phrase "the idealized self," from Neurosis and Human Growth. The idealized self arises from "coping with feeling unsafe, unloved, and unvalued by compulsively moving toward (1, 2, 6), against (3, 7, 9), or away from (4, 5, 9) others" (click graphic for larger view):

This view shows each fixation from the perspective of Helen Palmer's brilliantly brief "focus of attention" (click graphic for larger view):

Here are typical responses when "in the grip" at each point, based on descriptions from Relationships Made Easy by Sarah Aschenbach and Personality Types by Don Riso and Russ Hudson (click graphic for larger view):

And this one from psychotherapist Margaret Frings Keyes (The Enneagram Relationship Workbook) offers some psychological depth (click graphic for larger view):

Finally, in Emotions and the Enneagram, Margaret Frings Keyes framed the nine points in terms of Shadow issues, which I reframed in my work with executive clients who hadn't studied the Enneagram or psychology in depth, using the Enneagram only as a personality model. With those clients, Keyes' label of "Shadow Issue" became Driving Force, "Enneagram Program" became Behavior Set, and "Strength" became Development Need (click graphic for larger view):

When is Personality "Set"?

A prospective client wrote to me,

"I recently began learning about the Enneagram through coworkers. I strongly identify with my Two mentor, and test as a Two myself, although I am under the age of 25 and therefore understand my personality to not be quite "set" yet. Either way, it leads me to consider the popular nature vs. nurture question. My mother is a strong, religious One, and my dad is a Two. I feel like my childhood gave me lots of messages about people serving, and as a female, I get this message culturally anyway.

As I continue to consciously grow, how can I practice growing that both honors the things that have influenced me, as well as define my Self? It seems like a bigger question for a Two, or a Nine, for example, who may tend to take on many aspects of the people they are surrounded by. Can I utilize the Enneagram before my personality has stabilized? Will I be left with my truest self regardless of these aspects?"

This young woman misunderstood when the personality is "set." That happens quite young. David Daniels cited studies indicating that infants are born with one of three energies, easy, difficult, or slow to warm up. You can see, depending on the individual's life history, how these energies will each lead to one of three Enneagram styles (indicated also with terms from Karen Horney in parentheses):*

"Easy"-- moving toward people (compliant) =  1, 2, 6

"Difficult"-- moving against people (aggressive) = 3, 7, 8

"Slow to Warm Up"-- moving away from people (withdrawing) = 4, 5, 9

Consistent with studies of infant energies, many parents see evidence of Enneagram style in their children quite young, and certainly by the teen years. In fact, there are Enneagram programs for teens, and Elizabeth Wagele wrote a book specifically for young people..

In 2013, Ginger Lapid-Bogda wrote in The Enneagram in Business blog:

Even 10 years ago, the prevailing "wisdom" (really, more urban legend!) was that you could not use the Enneagram with people under 40 because they did not have sufficient life experience to "know who they are" ... Even more, it was thought to be unethical to use the Enneagram with children ... At the 2003 IEA Conference, we did a children's panel led by David Daniels, which was extremely controversial... after the fact, a huge success. I was fully aware that my then 10 year old son was using the Enneagram really well. It helped him understand himself as a type 3 and he was using it in several ways....

In fact, most Enneagram tests suggest you consider how you were in your early twenties when answering the questions, because we all loosen some of our programming as we mature and might be less of a fit for the patterns characteristic of a given point.

It's true, of course, that we can have an overlay of parents' Enneagram styles even if different from our own. Tom Condon teaches this, and doesn't limit the possibility to styles Two and Nine--although I think it could be true that Twos and Nines adopt those external qualities more readily.

Age 25 is not too early for deep personal work, and I suggested to the woman who posed the questions above that she observe all her urges toward service (which can show up for any Enneagram style), each time paying close attention to what triggered the urge, what she says to herself, how she feels both physically and emotionally, and how the service plays out. She'll find her real self as well as the automatic, programmed responses of style Two, or Nine, or perhaps another point.

*    *    *

There is some disagreement among Enneagram teachers about the placement of Ones as either aggressive or complaint, and the placement of Sevens as either compliant or aggressive, I am convinced Sevens only appear to be "easy" and Ones only appear to be "difficult." When you explore deeper motivations, Sevens use humor, stories, and apparent lightheartedness to take over a situation. Likewise, Ones may appear to be "difficult" in their efforts to have things just so, but they're deeply motivated by wanting people to like them.

Breathe In, Breathe Out

In the 1984 film, The Karate Kid, a teen-aged boy who came to his teacher's home to learn karate was at first given only menial tasks:

Wax these cars--wax on with right hand, off with left hand, breathe in, breathe out. Sand this deck--right hand in circle, left hand in circle, breathe in, breathe out. Paint fence--wrist up, wrist down, right hand, left hand. Paint house, side to side, right hand, left hand.

Finally, the boy exploded: "You're supposed to be teaching me, but for four days I've been busting my ass and I haven't learned a goddam thing!"

"You learn plenty," said the teacher, and as the boy stormed off, commanded him to return. "Look into my eyes. Show me 'sand floor,' he commanded, and as the boy reluctantly made the circles with his right and then left hand, the teacher threw punches that were blocked by the boy's sweeping hands.

"Show me 'wax on, wax off,' show me 'paint the fence,' show me 'paint the house.'" As the boy made these deeply practiced and now spontaneous movements, the teacher demonstrated how each had its place in karate. When the lesson was completed, without a word of explanation, the teacher bowed.

Like the Karate Kid, I didn't "get" it, thirty years ago, during the first few days of an Enneagram workshop with Claudio Naranjo. I came with the expectation that I would be taught the steps to transformation, have my questions answered, and overcome my faults as an Enneagram style Nine.

"So why" I ranted to myself, "is he spending so much time on these meditation and relationship exercises, these visualizations? These have nothing to do with the Enneagram! When is he going to start teaching?"

"Close your eyes," said Naranjo, "breathe in, breathe out, imagine a holy light shining down through the top of your head and filling your whole body with love. Now, open your eyes and look at your partner. Do not speak. Breathe in, breathe out, and let this light shin through you to your partner. Do not respond when it is your partner's turn to speak, do not judge, simply be present with this person and with the light."

And so the workshop continued. "Simple" exercises deepened our understanding of how our habitual responses become engaged, the nature of our unconscious pay-offs for maintaining the status quo, how we stop ourselves from disclosing private thoughts because we have an image to maintain or because we fear the discomfort such disclosure might bring, how we project our shortcomings onto others (especially in close relationships).

With style Nine's self-forgetting, it was so easy for me to criticize events structured by others and so difficult for me to find myself. I saw how I had been captive to key Nine patterns--difficulty knowing what we want, looking for others to provide a structure and through that structure discovering what we don't want. I expected to be told how to remember myself. I didn't yet know I was remembering myself, that these experiences would reflect myself to me.

In Enneagram Spirituality: Compulsion to Contemplation, Suzanne Zuercher described the importance to transformation of active contemplation--as opposed to passive surrender to the process. Active contemplation is similar in concept to the Buddhist notion of mindfulness, carrying a posture of awareness, intention, and readiness throughout your daily life:

Awareness--of your Enneagram style and how it plays out uniquely for you.

Intention-- commitment to your own spiritual path.

Readiness--a holistic stance of invitation, of openness, as well as taking specific actions that shift your focus of attention (doing what is most difficult for you, inviting your unknown and disowned parts to come forth, staying present instead of avoiding or denying or projecting blame).

A Stronger Drink

Humor is a good antidote to untested assumptions and a marvelous way to elicit change at a symbolic level. It shakes us loose.

For example, in a workshop on Enneagram personality styles I handed out a variety of Slammers--bean bag toys that make a sound when you throw them down on a hard surface.

Participants had great fun with these, sometimes slamming them down on the table to make a point during the discussion.

• For those who worry overmuch about what could go wrong, their Slammer was a puppy that shouted, "Oh, no!" 
• For those who are so devoted to others' needs they forget their own, the Slammer had a puckered-up mouth and made the sound of a big, smacking kiss. 
• Those with my own peacemaking style tend to merge with others' agenda and fail to speak up for ourselves. When we threw our Slammers down. .  . they made no sound at all!

A friend says we Enneagram Nines are easy to tease and enjoy self-deprecating humor. That may be true. While reading Iris Murdoch's The Green Knight, I laughed out loud at this passage:

. . . she instinctively made all things better, speaking no evil, disarming hostility, turning ill away, making peace: her gentleness, which made her seem, sometimes, to some people, weak, insipid, dull. "She's not exactly a strong drink!" someone said.

Ironic that my favorite cocktail for many years was a Godfather. Hmmm. I might have been symbolically drinking strength.

As I've matured I've become a stronger drink, stepping up, shouting out; my artwork and my taste in poetry becoming less and less rule-bound.

My post-mastectomy t-shirt almost nine years ago read I LOST MY BOOBS, NOT MY SENSE OF HUMOR. And my son Dylan Schwab helped me create a Ta-tas rap.

I was inspired by Anne Hathaway, who is Sweetness personified (and I'm sure has very nice breasts), performing her paparazzi rap:

Out of the Box!

"I interpret things differently than most people," said Geier. "I find ways to innovate systems, but more often than not my suggestions are rejected without valid reasons. Instead of congratulations, I get resentment. This leaves me feeling bitter, I become disenchanted, my dedication starts to deteriorate, and I feel I've wasted my productive years aiming at the wrong goals. I cannot bear authoritarian organizations. Do you think there's any chance of finding a job that allows room to explore my ideas?"

Plato's "Allegory of the Cave" in Book VII of The Republic offers an apt metaphor for Enneagram style Four's experience that others can't see the possibilities they see. In this excerpt, Socrates symbolized the predicament of humankind:

Human beings have been living in an underground cave since childhood, their legs and necks chained so they can see only in front of them. Behind them is a fire, and between them and the fire a raised stage with marionette players working puppets. The truth they see is nothing but "the shadows of the images."

My Enneagram Four colleagues are excellent consultants who bring this gift of looking in from the outside. Because it's their job to figure out a way to communicate with organization members, consultants experience less frustration with the cleverness and subtlety required. They know they must listen patiently, to understand their clients' perspectives in order to influence them to change.

When internal to an organization, though, innovative thinkers typically become frustrated when people more interested in maintaining the status quo don't understand or accept their ideas.

They may assume if they can find a better way to describe their vision, people will say, "Ah, wonderful, let's go!" Not so.

To find appreciation for out-of-the-box ideas among others who play by the rules, you have to GET IN THE BOX WITH THEM and, from inside, examine the barriers to looking outside. You might find it's sufficient to simply improve what's already being done. If you're open to learning what the world looks like from inside the box of others' way of thinking, you'll see opportunities to help them break through from the inside.

We all trap ourselves in belief systems and then perceive the world through filters that reinforce our beliefs. So we all live in boxes of one sort or another, and until we're enabled to see the light outside the cave, we don't know how to break through.

The Enneagram is a powerful diagnostic tool precisely because it helps us see the boxes we're in. Style Fours are deeply in touch with their feelings, and tend to sink into moodiness if met by resistance to their ideas. The same talent that allows them to look outside the box can lead  to wondering why they never see things the way others do, and subsequently to question if they're flawed.

If you're sinking into bitterness from feelings of rejection (typical of Enneagram style Fours but not exclusive to that personality), say to yourself "Ah, I'm inside a box where I compulsively focus on myself as an outsider, a misfit. I've bought into this belief and keep myself from seeing the light outside." When you're feeling disenchanted, notice, "Ah, I'm inside a box again, playing out the belief that the grass must be greener somewhere else." When you see yourself as odd, say "Ah, I'm in a box of focusing on my flaws."

Even when thinking, "Oh, God, I'm in this box again, I can't bear it," continue to observe yourself without judgment. As you develop your capacity to be non-judgmentally mindful, you may seek a more rewarding job, but you'll also discover the possibilities of the job you're in. You'll see the whole picture, notice how your "flaws" are also strengths, and learn to champion your ideas in ways that inspire instead of challenge cohorts who do things "because they've always been done that way."

Self-Fulfilling Prophecy: Back Into My Trance!

Psychologists have found strong evidence for the impact of our beliefs and expectations on outcomes, particularly when we are convinced that our predictions will manifest, and even when we don't necessarily consciously know that we hold the expectation. Self-Fulfilling Prophecy in Psychology: 10 Examples and Definition, emphasis added)

One of my Enneagram style Nine clients wrote to me, "Hi Coach, I don't understand today's 9" (from the Enneagram Institute's Type Nine EnneaThought for January 30th):

"Remember that Nines make a fundamental mistake in believing that to stay connected to others they must not be connected to themselves. Watch for this tendency in yourself today. (The Wisdom of the Enneagram, 327)."

As I wrote to my client, entranced Nines only feel safe when following someone else's agenda because of the belief, "If I speak up, especially if I disagree, I'll cause conflict and lose that connection." In staying silent, they deny connecting to what they want -- and the constant reinforcement of this belief makes it difficult to even know what they want.

This belief doesn't have to be conscious. The entrancement of Enneagram patterns runs deep, and even when it's your goal to stay present and interrupt old patterns, a saboteur from the unconscious can play the old game right under your nose.

For example, a developing style Nine who has to overcome some inertia to speak up (perhaps having experienced "Nobody hears me!"), may be more blunt than necessary or blurt out in a way that seems offensive to the other person, causing problems in the relationship.

In the first chapter of Out of the Box Coaching with the Enneagram, Clarence Thomson and I described the self-fulfilling nature of Enneagram style One's belief in the necessity of striving for perfection:

A flow of energy necessarily follows our narrow focus of attention. This energy supports a particular trance in a self-fulfilling way. Enneagram Ones, for example, will habitually look for something wrong, then receive satisfaction from making a correction. This reinforces their worldview that they must strive for perfection.

The self-fulfilling nature of our Enneagram patterns isn't unique to style Nine or One, of course. We all create occasions that allow us to say to ourselves at some level, "See, I knew it wasn't safe to do that... back into my trance!"

The Ecstatic Skin of the Earth

One of my favorite stories about C.G. Jung is a reported dream where he was drowning in a vat of human waste and calling "Help me out!" to his therapist, who stood on the rim of the vat. Instead of taking his outstretched hand the therapist pushed Jung's head down into the liquid, saying, "Through, not out."

That's often what it feels like when we commit to greater self-awareness and then see what we've gotten ourselves into: "Get me out of this!" No matter how innovative our efforts, there's a quality of struggling in, yes, a vat of shit.

In an episode of "John Adams," Adams teaches one of his sons about the virtues of manure, insisting that the young man mash it around with his hands. His recipe for compost would delight today's organic gardeners -- seaweed, marsh mud, dead ashes, rock weed, livestock waste, kitchen scraps.

Our own dung has a similar variety -- scraps of history; ashes we thought were dead; a deep sea of muddy droppings from unconscious creature selves; weeds we'd imagined pulled forever; the waste of years spent serving an ego-image.

Keep in mind this quote from William Bryant Logan's Dirt: The Ecstatic Skin of the Earth:

Not only the grain in the mealbag, but the full-blown rose are, in one sense, the gift of turds.

What's the Point? Enneagram Nine? or Five?

One of my clients was trying to decide between Enneagram styles Nine and Five. He was well aware of his tendency to talk at great length, but was confused between the Five's dissertation talk style and the Nine's epic tale.

As I explained to him, you can tell the difference by paying attention to both the linking together of concepts and the apparent purpose of someone's story. Style Fives tend to be well-organized and logical when they talk, and you can see their attempt to influence the other person's thinking. This reflects the way their minds work. They'll collect a mountain of information and synthesize it, cull it down (they can even be too reductionist in doing so). Listen also for the words and metaphors they use -- many of which will reflect style Five's exactness.

For example, in The Doors of Perception Aldous Huxley writes:

To be enlightened is to be aware, always, of total reality in its immanent otherness--to be aware of it and yet to remain in a condition to survive as an animal, to think and feel as a human being, to resort whenever expedient to systematic reasoning. Our goal is to discover that we have always been where we ought to be. Unhappily we make the task exceedingly difficult for ourselves.

Huxley may or may not have been Enneagram style Five. Some have suggested he might have been style Four with a Five wing. Nonetheless, the cited section from his book is clearly somewhat professorial.

In contrast, Nines will wander in their epic tales. They can be distracted by one thought, then another, go off on tangents, perhaps even forget what point they were trying to make. I'm style Nine, and over the years I've learned to stay focused, especially in writing, but when I first started my web site in 1999, you could start reading one of hundreds of articles and eventually link to most of the others without finding a trail back to the home page.Every section of the site had different background colors, fonts, and designs.

My computer-whiz daughter pointed out the lack of consistency or identifying information on the linked pages (who is this, how do I contact her, how do I return to the home page?), and the links were full-frame instead of new windows. So, for example, you could go from my home page to "Articles," from there link to an article on "Anger," then to an outside link about anger and thus leave my site completely! My whole web presence was an epic tale.

Sitting in the Fire

"They both seem lost in space," said one of my clients, "Arlene," in our first call. she was focused on helping her daughter, who "doesn't know what she wants," and her son, who "is getting into big trouble. "Also," she added, "please tell me what I can do for myself--I sometimes feel I'm more relaxed, but there are certain things that really drive me mad. How can I be patient if I've never experienced patience?"

Arlene's desire to help her daughter and son was, of course, a legitimate concern for a mother. But first, I asked her to explore the question, Why must I fix them? She learned to sit with wanting to fix them, without actually doing so, developing a mindful observer to explore the repetitive internal pressure to act in a patterned way. 

She was right, of course. We can't "try" to be patient. Patience isn't something we can simply dredge up when we're feeling angry. The way to learn patience is to stay with the pressure to act but not acting on it, just sitting with it. 

Arlene also said, "There are certain things that really drive me mad." Generally, this internal battle is characterized by asking, Do I say something, or do I sit here and boil? 

I suggested that she encourage different questions: What's going on with my anger? Where do I feel it? What is it like? What does that tell me about myself?

Amy and Arnold Mindell help groups resolve conflict by owning and working openly with the issues at stake. The title of their book Sitting in the Fire is a terrific metaphor for anger. It's common to resolve anxiety through anger, instead of staying with the anxiety and learning from it. 
 
The Mindells developed a form of bodywork that helps surface the underlying dimension of anger.

Think of a time when you were furious, bring up that feeling again and even exaggerate it. Now ask one or both of the following questions: If I could see you, what would you look like? If you could speak, what would you say? Then play with whatever images arise and see what can be learned from them. 

The bodywork practice invites the unconscious to show what's been hidden. Here's an example from my own experience:

For weeks I'd been experiencing severe neck pain. I asked the pain What would you look like if I could see you? and an image appeared of a wooden yoke holding two oxen ins place. When I asked What would you say if you could speak, I heard "I'm feeling the burden of oppression." As I continued this imaginary conversation, I became clear the neck pain was a reaction to not having stated my own wishes clearly, then not liking the decision others made.

Eugene Gendlin's focusing technique is another way to bring unconscious issues to the surface, exaggerating the emotion and trying out different labels to describe it until a felt shift signifies a fit. And similar to focusing is Carl Jung's active imagination, which can be used separately or in conjunction with focusing or bodywork.
 
The anger that's typical at Enneagram point One is usually caused by frustration over trying to meet impossible standards that are either self-imposed or projected outward onto others. So, the drive to fix people articulated above by Arlene is an attempt to manage the frustration caused by an impossible task. I coached Arlene to become acquainted with her internal critic.  

When you feel yourself becoming angry, picture that anger arising from a specific part of you. What is that part's gender? Tone of voice? What is that part saying? Where in physical space is the voice located? Is it talking into your right ear? Does it live inside the front of your brain? Where is it? 

Once Arlene became familiar with her internal critic as a separate entity, she learned to dissociate herself a bit from her anger. To further weaken the critic's influence, I encouraged her to imagine what she could do that would be different from her usual response, and to make that at least slightly humorous.

Humor is often used to break people free from an outmoded way of thinking. That's why it's standard fare in creativity training. One of my clients saw his internal critic as a little devil that sat on his left shoulder, snarling into his left ear. His playful shift was to picture the devil as Jiminy Cricket singing a Disneyesque song about anger. Subsequently, every time he became angry, he saw the singing cricket--again, a way to dissociate himself from the anger in a healthy way.

Give Me Liberty, Or Give Me Death!

I once wrote, The determined cheerfulness of Enneagram Sevens is a coping strategy developed as children to blunt or cover up any pain. Their pain threshold is low because they've avoided it all their lives, and they feel pain very deeply. . . we can all identify with the urge to escape pain by doing something pleasurable.

In response, a friend asked, "Were you implying our fear of pain is fear of physical pain? My fear is not nearly so much of pain as of confinement. The enthusiasm you so accurately describe is a type of inner expansion. I bear my arthritis pain quite nicely, but the confinement of it really gets me down. We Sevens fear we'll be bored, have no options, and if I had to face life imprisonment or death, I'm with Patrick Henry, Give me liberty or give me death."

It's true of those I've coached that pain refers to whatever brings discomfort, and being confined is uncomfortable for those with Enneagram style Seven. Their avoidance of pain is more accurately understood as a passion for pleasure, a compulsion to seek variety because reality itself is not satisfying, and that's the real burden of such pain.

One of my style Seven clients was also an ENTP on the Myers-Briggs Type Indicator, which substantially exaggerated his Seven-ness. Read this ENTP description and you'll see what I mean. Neither Enneagram Sevens nor Myers Briggs Type ENTPs like to bother with detail; both are future-oriented, like to leave things open, crave activity and variety.

That same client (also described in Out of the Box Coaching with the Enneagram) said the worst possible thing he could imagine was being jailed. And he'd felt almost unbearably imprisoned in his job because the newness had worn off and he was stuck dealing with corporate politics. He'd been fantasizing about people he could connect with in the hierarchy to "Get me out of here!"

I suggested he use his discomfort as a clue that his habitual patterns were kicking into gear; that he was "in jail" then and there, feeling compelled to be released. To his credit, he did stick with it, became less constrained by his own compulsive wish for escape, and eventually succeeded his boss as division manager.

I'm not sure that was a happy ending.