A History of Authentic Relating

Authentic relating

Authentic relating. Two simple words that contain multitudes. On the surface, the concept seems easy enough to grasp - people connecting with one another in an open and genuine way. But peer beneath that thin semantic veneer, and you’ll discover an entire world of nuanced practice and technique, of games and guidelines, of facilitated vulnerability and structured intimacy. You’ll find a community devoted to the lost art of human connection.

To understand where authentic relating came from and what it aims to achieve, we need to go back in time - to encounter groups and sensitivity training, to philosophical ideals of dialogue, and ultimately to the flowering of the human potential movement. We have to rewind to a point when people en masse began searching for meaning and identity beyond the material confines of the modern world. For authentic relating was born from a desire for more. More self-awareness. More intimacy with others. More alignment between how we think and feel and how we interact. It arose from a longing for human connection that rings truer.

And so practitioners began gathering in circles to speak and listen from the heart. Weekend workshops offered techniques to share vulnerabilities and hear others with empathy and understanding. A new language emerged to describe modes of sincere expression, deep listening, and interpersonal presence. Bit by bit, a toolkit took shape to nurture authenticity in relationship.

Of course, like any movement focused on inner change, authentic relating has always been easier said than done. Yet its aim remains clear: to enable more presence, empathy, and vulnerability in how we relate - skills more critical than ever in these disjointed digital days. For at its core, authentic relating asserts that people crave connection at levels beyond the superficial. And that together, we can learn to reach through our inner barriers to find it.

To trace the winding path that led to authentic relating, we must harken back to the human potential movement of the 1960s and 70s. This diffuse phenomenon centered around the belief that humans could transcend their current states and access more expansive identities and ways of being. It ushered in a wave of new therapies, trainings, and practices aimed at unlocking greater self-awareness and fulfillment.

One avenue was encounter groups and sensitivity training, which gathered strangers in intimate settings to share themselves openly and honestly. Participants expressed their deepest emotions, frustrations, and desires out loud within the container of the group. The goal was to strip away social pretenses and traverse the rugged landscape of the authentic self.

Encounter groups created a pressure cooker of vulnerability. Facilitators urged attendees to remove their inner filters completely and interact on a profoundly raw level. For many, this provoked terrifying descents into the shadowy recesses of the psyche. They surfaced repressed memories, fears, and shames rarely given voice.  But entering these uncharted waters also brought connection, insight, and self-discovery.

While encounter groups faded, their impact remained in opening a portal to authenticity previously deemed taboo. They demonstrated people's hunger for shedding societal roles and connecting at more profound layers of identity. For seekers of the 70s, surfacing one's true untamed self within a collective forum felt revolutionary. Little did they know authentic relating would soon formalize this into an art and science unto itself.

Encounter groups also honed in on self-awareness and communication with an almost religious fervor. By vocalizing their inner shadows, participants aimed to drag their subconscious into the light. The groups encouraged a brutal brand of honesty that cut through euphemism and pretense. Say what you really feel, they urged. Hold nothing back.

This practice echoed the coals-walking daring of evangelicals, casting out internal demons through voiced confession. It also channeled the tradition of campfire sharing circles, where indigenous tribes forged identity and belonging through candid storytelling. Self-revelation became the path to self-actualization.

And so they spoke. Of wounds and wants, anger and angst. The words came haltingly at first, then torrentially like long-dammed rivers. Catharsis reverberated through the room as strangers united in a collective ritual of unpacking their soul's baggage. Baring oneself before others proved cleansing, but also deeply bonding.

Through this candid communication, the groups learned that identity dwells not solely within, but also in the spaces between us. We come to know ourselves through verbal reflection, but also in how others react to our inner truths. The "self" lives within a hall of mirrors, taking shape through glimpses of self-expression refracted in the eyes of our fellow humans. And so honesty and empathy became the currency of encounter, tendering insight across the circling crowd.

The human potential movement prized authentic interpersonal connection above all else. But translating vulnerability into verbally excavated insight required skill. Early groups often unearthed more darkness than light, spiraling members into confusion or distress. It became clear that while exhuming one's submerged essence has value, doing so without guidance risks unease rather than enlightenment.

And so practices arose to channel authentic relating into constructive channels. Encounter groups incorporated meditations and creative exercises to ground participants in their bodies. Therapists stepped in to hold space for painful memories to surface safely. Slowly, a process took form.

Even the seating arrangements in these rooms reflected intention - the preferred format being circular. Practitioners drew inspiration from King Arthur's round table, symbolizing equity. Circles embody democracy's ideal, all members visible and valued equally. They focus energy inward, containing and directing it like an acoustic chamber. And circles have no head or foot - leadership rotates fluidly to whoever holds the talking piece.

In this bowl of trust, zephyrs of sharing swirled from person to person. Often a single story, candidly told, could transform a room of strangers into confidants. The circle's alchemy spun vulnerability into connection.

While the human potential movement faded, its legacy continued circulating. Encounter groups and sensitivity training revealed the healing force of authentic expression. And they modeled structures and rituals to guide this most elusive of human arts - sincere relating. Their influence streams through countless practices today that use the circle's ancient wisdom to crystallize wisdom from our shared human depths.

The philosophical underpinnings of authentic relating also stem from Martin Buber, the 20th century religious thinker. He pioneered a mode of communication called "dialogue", which centered on directness and wholehearted presence between participants.

For Buber, most human speech falls short of true connection. We participate in "monologue disguised as dialogue", speaking past each other in parallel streams, or worse, using words as weapons of rhetoric and coercion. True dialogue, by contrast, involves turning toward one's conversation partner with sincere interest. It's not just an exchange of words and ideas, but also an embracing of the other's full humanity.

Buber believed authentic dialogue creates a space he called the "between" - an interpersonal field alive with mutual understanding. When dialogue flows, speaker and listener expand each other's existence. We feel seen, known, validated. For those precious moments, we overcome separateness.

Buber's conception of dialogue, while philosophical, resonated with practitioners of authentic communication. It provided an aspirational vision for what they hoped to achieve in their intimacy circles and empathy exercises. His words lent theoretical heft to the unnamable magic that arises when people transcend superficial talk and connect mind-to-mind and heart-to-heart.

So while Buber himself never sat in on an encounter group, his writings helped shape their ethos. His depiction of ideal dialogue conjured their yearning for a raised human discourse beyond ego and artifice. For many, achieving Buber's vision of mutual understanding even once could sustain them through lives of mundane miscommunication. They had glimpsed the mountain tops beyond.

As the human potential movement evolved, practitioners found the circle to be the ideal format for authentic interpersonal connection. Sitting in an unbroken ring, without hierarchy, perfectly mirrored their egalitarian ideals. It created a natural container for vulnerable sharing.

Particularly on intensive retreats, participants would remain in circle for hours or even days. There they journeyed along the spiraling path from superficial small talk to intimate self-disclosure. With each loop around the circle, they delved deeper, fanning the flames of trust.

At its best, this practice produced startling openness, even among strangers. With knees nearly touching, sustained eye contact, and no distraction or judgment, masks fell away. People unearthed memories and feelings long unexpressed. Renewal arose from being truly seen.

Yet circling also kindled controversy. Some criticized its pressure towards forced emotional expulsion, likening it to an amateur form of group therapy. They argued that not every feeling benefits from uncontrolled airing. Restraint and privacy have value too.

Still, at its core, circling reawakened the ancient ritual of gathering in council for wisdom-sharing. The unique acoustics of a circle focus attention inward, toward each speaker. Even silences thrum with connection. Though deceptively simple, when done with intention circling powerfully channels human energies - the raw stuff of authentic relating.

As one circle participant described, "After a weekend together, we felt like a band of war buddies. You can't help but feel profoundly close to people with whom you've faced your demons." For seekers, that taste of interpersonal intensity became addictive.

By the 90s, many veterans of the human potential movement felt something was missing. They had unearthed their core selves through intense encounters. But how could they bring more authentic connection into their daily lives?

Seeking to harness emotional openness outside structured workshops, some began practicing "relating" - conversing with friends and partners with conscious authenticity. Drawing on humanistic psychology, they approached even casual interactions as opportunities for vulnerability and growth.

In Colorado, California, and elsewhere, informal groups coalesced to experiment with relating. Deceptively simple exercises broke through habitual conversational ruts to reveal often surprising depths. Even brief practices induced fresh insights and bonding.

Participants found that while circling had its place for intensive self-inquiry, these lighter relating games better met their everyday social needs. Less emotionally draining, they could be woven into dinners, picnics, road trips. Soon, an ethos and identity formed around "authentic relating".

Early adopters became evangelists for its capacity to foster instant intimacy with strangers and loved ones alike. They spoke of games able to conjure the "between” - that magical space of complete empathetic union. While rarely fully achievable, having once tasted genuine presence, they were hooked on its sweetness.

Thus authentic relating took form as a container for circling’s fire, channeling it into bitesize moments of grace. Seekers realized relating's simple practices made integrating openness into daily life deliciously attainable. All you needed was willingness to speak and listen from the heart.

Defining Authentic Relating

In those fertile early days, "authentic relating" remained loosely defined. Essentially, it described practices intended to foster more presence and connection between people through vulnerable sharing. But what specific skills comprised authentic relating? And how could they be transmitted?

Some relationers likened it to learning a language - requiring sustained practice to assimilate its nuances into instinct. Others invoked dance, with partners blending gracefully via unspoken cues. Ultimately though, relating skills defied tidy taxonomy.

Like circling, groups organically gravitated towards deceptively simple formats.Dyads, triads, and fishbowl sharing circles allowed experiential learning. Games elicited vulnerability through reciprocity - you reflect me, I reflect you. Intentionally airing doubts, hopes, and fears bred understanding.

Key themes emerged: deep listening, dropping pretense, sitting with discomfort, expressing affection. Yet no curriculum could capture relating's ineffable spirit. At its core, it was about bravely bringing one’s whole self to interpersonal encounters. The practice was the path.

Formats and Games

Relationers continued developing structures and games to scaffold authentic interactions. Popular formats included Insight Share, which builds empathy through dyad listening. Or Connection Games using prompts, like "Tell a hidden childhood memory."

Some games aimed to nonverbally deepen rapport, like sustained eye gazing. Others encouraged risk-taking, making participants earn conversation through vulnerability. Whatever the format, a single authentic sharing could erode years of deflection between players.

Games also created "containers" for constructive disagreement. Rules enforced deep listening and suspended judgment amid conflict. The goal was understanding, not converting. Players stayed present and open-hearted.

While detractors found some games manipulative or contrived, insiders knew their power. Even long-time practitioners could be stunned by the vulnerability games elicited in themselves and others. Moments of realness surfaced unplanned.

Evolution of a Community

By the 2000s, a loose global network had cohered around authentic relating. Groups met regularly in cities to practice. Weekend workshops and annual retreats attracted new cohorts. Regional tribes emerged, blending relating with other approaches like circling and nonviolent communication.

A shared lexicon evolved, demystifying the arts of deep relating. Online groups connected distant practitioners. Seekers could now dive into authenticity trainings even in isolated areas.

Authentic relating continues spreading organically, person-to-person. At its heart remains a faith that below our armored egos lies a shared reservoir of wisdom and compassion. By relating authentically, we tap that communal wellspring and help awaken it in others. We reconnect to our humanity.

Photo credit: Toa Heftiba @Unsplash