boeat ibu-ibu anggota 'dharma wanita' di milis ini ... :) mungkin di jakarta bisa di dirikan sekolah-2 serupa, ato bikin seminar-2 di hotel-2 di Jakarta dengan topik: "bagaimana menjadi pawang yang piawai menjinakkan suami". Di tanggung laris deh. PEO (Profi. Event Organizer) nya pasti untung besar ... :) *** menghadapi suami yang merupakan 'difficult person' ( mis. sering menjengkelkan di dalam komunikasi sehari-hari ). Sebetulnya keadaan yang serupa juga sering dijumpai di dalam organisasi/manajemen, misalnya di instansi-2 pemerintah, atau kadang juga di organisasi lainnya, di mana kita menjumpai staf/member yang behaviournya 'salah' tetapi sulit dikoreksi dengan menggunakan taktik *-carrot & stick-*. Misalnya staf tsb. somehow 'sulit di ancam' (misalnya dengan pemecatan ato demosi). Jadi satu-2 nya jalan ya dengan strategi 'carrot & carrot'. Kalo behaviour dia baik dikasih carrot gede, kalau salah dikasih carrot kecil ato engga di kasih carrot sama sekali :) ( bukankah posisi otot-2 an program nuklir di Iran sebetulnya sudah memasuki situasi serupa, di mana Iran berhasil "meyakinkan" lawan-2 nya bahwa dia tidak bisa di ancam dengan *stick*. They could only give Iran the 'options of different types of carrots". Did Condoliza Rice learned that reality after reading the article I quoted below? < althogh she might never now how it feels to be a wife in such circumstances > ) ... :) ---( IM )------------------------------------- Modern Love: http://www.nytimes.com/2006/06/25/fashion/25love.html?ex=1151553600&en=84fdced0f61d7c44&ei=5087%0A -------------------------------------------- What Shamu Taught Me About a Happy Marriage -------------------------------------------- By AMY SUTHERLAND Published: June 25, 2006 AS I wash dishes at the kitchen sink, my husband paces behind me, irritated. "Have you seen my keys?" he snarls, then huffs out a loud sigh and stomps from the room with our dog, Dixie, at his heels, anxious over her favorite human's upset. In the past I would have been right behind Dixie. I would have turned off the faucet and joined the hunt while trying to soothe my husband with bromides like, "Don't worry, they'll turn up." But that only made him angrier, and a simple case of missing keys soon would become a full-blown angst-ridden drama starring the two of us and our poor nervous dog. Now, I focus on the wet dish in my hands. I don't turn around. I don't say a word. I'm using a technique I learned from a dolphin trainer. I love my husband. He's well read, adventurous and does a hysterical rendition of a northern Vermont accent that still cracks me up after 12 years of marriage. But he also tends to be forgetful, and is often tardy and mercurial. He hovers around me in the kitchen asking if I read this or that piece in The New Yorker when I'm trying to concentrate on the simmering pans. He leaves wadded tissues in his wake. He suffers from serious bouts of spousal deafness but never fails to hear me when I mutter to myself on the other side of the house. "What did you say?" he'll shout. These minor annoyances are not the stuff of separation and divorce, but in sum they began to dull my love for Scott. I wanted needed to nudge him a little closer to perfect, to make him into a mate who might annoy me a little less, who wouldn't keep me waiting at restaurants, a mate who would be easier to love. So, like many wives before me, I ignored a library of advice books and set about improving him. By nagging, of course, which only made his behavior worse: he'd drive faster instead of slower; shave less frequently, not more; and leave his reeking bike garb on the bedroom floor longer than ever. We went to a counselor to smooth the edges off our marriage. She didn't understand what we were doing there and complimented us repeatedly on how well we communicated. I gave up. I guessed she was right our union was better than most and resigned myself to stretches of slow-boil resentment and occasional sarcasm. Then something magical happened. For a book I was writing about a school for exotic animal trainers, I started commuting from Maine to California, where I spent my days watching students do the seemingly impossible: teaching hyenas to pirouette on command, cougars to offer their paws for a nail clipping, and baboons to skateboard. I listened, rapt, as professional trainers explained how they taught dolphins to flip and elephants to paint. Eventually it hit me that the same techniques might work on that stubborn but lovable species, the American husband. ***************************************************************** The central lesson I learned from exotic animal trainers is that I should reward behavior I like and ignore behavior I don't. After all, you don't get a sea lion to balance a ball on the end of its nose by nagging. The same goes for the American husband. ***************************************************************** Back in Maine, I began thanking Scott if he threw one dirty shirt into the hamper. If he threw in two, I'd kiss him. Meanwhile, I would step over any soiled clothes on the floor without one sharp word, though I did sometimes kick them under the bed. But as he basked in my appreciation, the piles became smaller. I was using what trainers call "approximations," rewarding the small steps toward learning a whole new behavior. You can't expect a baboon to learn to flip on command in one session, just as you can't expect an American husband to begin regularly picking up his dirty socks by praising him once for picking up a single sock. With the baboon you first reward a hop, then a bigger hop, then an even bigger hop. With Scott the husband, I began to praise every small act every time: if he drove just a mile an hour slower, tossed one pair of shorts into the hamper, or was on time for anything. I also began to analyze my husband the way a trainer considers an exotic animal. Enlightened trainers learn all they can about a species, from anatomy to social structure, to understand how it thinks, what it likes and dislikes, what comes easily to it and what doesn't. For example, an elephant is a herd animal, so it responds to hierarchy. It cannot jump, but can stand on its head. It is a vegetarian. --------------------------------------------------------------- Amy Sutherland is the author of "Kicked, Bitten and Scratched: Life and Lessons at the Premier School for Exotic Animal Trainers" (Viking, June 2006). She lives in Boston and in Portland, Me. ------------------------ Yahoo! Groups Sponsor --------------------~--> Great things are happening at Yahoo! Groups. See the new email design. http://us.click.yahoo.com/TISQkA/hOaOAA/yQLSAA/BRUplB/TM --------------------------------------------------------------------~-> *************************************************************************** Berdikusi dg Santun & Elegan, dg Semangat Persahabatan. Menuju Indonesia yg Lebih Baik, in Commonality & Shared Destiny. http://groups.yahoo.com/group/ppiindia *************************************************************************** __________________________________________________________________________ Mohon Perhatian: 1. 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