Enneagram groups Archives — Exploring the ENNEAGRAM

Anger in the instinctive triad — grasping the subtleties of the “triad theme” descriptions

Centres of intelligence, Enneagram groups

Recently, I saw the question raised how Ones and Nines were “anger types” — Ones, after all, preferring to not show anger, and Nines seeming do bend over backwards to avoid it, both in themselves and from others. The only “anger type” that seems to live up to the name is the Eight. So, what gives?

There are multiple ways to respond to this question. One perspective has to do with how we process and express anger, and even what we choose to put this label on (and I wrote a whole article on anger before, unrelated to the Enneagram). Another perspective has to do with what plane of experience we are discussing. Let’s look at both — but first, it is good to remind ourselves that anger (as well as shame and fear) is universal.

Universal phenomenon or triad label?

When Enneagram type descriptions tie one trait, tendency or aspect to a certain type or group, it does not mean that other types or groups lack it — it just means that this trait, tendency etc means something particular in relation to the type or group in question. So as for anger, this is obviously something that we all have, process and express in various ways.

So we need to get that the descriptions that put anger with the instinctive triad, shame with the heart triad and fear with the head triad are not about exclusivity. It’s not that instinctive types get angry more often than other types. And it’s not that they get angrier than others. (If you have ever met a seriously annoyed Six, you know what I mean.) Likewise, it’s not that the heart types walk around feeling ashamed (at least no more so than anyone else) or the head types are all scaredy-cats.

Sure, there are examples of all of this, and that is what makes it tricky. A lot of experience with Fours might certainly give you the idea that the shame thing is overt and supposed to be seen. The same with Fives, and some Sixes, and the energy of fear. And certainly so with a lot of Eights and the association with anger (as those occasionally give off the vibe of anger while feeling positively peachy inside!) So the first thing we need to get is that while these are expressions of the overall emotional tone of the triad in question, they also make us stay with the superficial, missing the real point of these descriptions.

As long as we keep this in mind, we can go on to explore the two perspectives I mentioned above: How we process and express anger as an actual response, and what existential plane we are referring to when we talk about “anger types”.

How the types in the instinctive triad process and express anger

So what is it about for the instinctual types? What does it mean that they are “anger types” or “coming from anger”? It means that their common orientation to life and the world gets fed from the instinctual plane of our existence — i e, gut energy. (More about this below in the next perspective.) This energy is rather on/off in nature, and it wants things to be the way I want them to be. How that is obviously varies individually, just as my way to go about making it so varies strongly with type.

Anger in the Eight

In the Eight, this powerful energy is generally directed outwards. And, since Eights often do not mind being angry (that is, they do not see it as a sign of weakness or lack of control), if they get riled up, they have no trouble showing it. (Also they might sometimes see what others label anger in them as “decisiveness” or “just putting it plainly”.) If Eights wants something to happen, they will generally assert themselves — complete with all their instinctual energy — in an attempt to make it happen. And the thing is, the Eight will (also generally) primarily want to affect things in the outside world and thus tend to direct his or her attention outwards, into the environment.

Anger in the One

The Ones also want to affect things in the outside world, but even more so, they want to control their own instinctual energy lest it seeps out and gets the better of them. Thus Ones expression of anger is to a large extent internalised, causing tensions and other physical manifestations. When the Ones want to affect their outside world in the direction they (or, often, their internalised ideals and their superego) believe is right, the anger will frequently come out as pursed lips, reprimands, indignation and/or a sense of contained outrage. Just like the Eight, the One might also deny being angry (although you might suspect they are), but whereas the Eight genuinely just saves the label for a stronger reaction, the One’s objection will be down to seeing anger as a loss of self-control.

Anger in the Nine

The Nine, as the primary type of the triad, can be most out of touch with their instinctual energy. That does not mean it is not there, but average level Nines tend to split it off from thoughts and feelings in a way that the moving energy of the instinctual centre is often used in a kind of “autopilot mode” (where others might sense the quality of the Nine’s energy, whereas the Nines themselves are out to lunch, awareness-wise). If the Nines actually gets upset, their impulse is to distract themselves or otherwise diffuse the anger, as there is generally a sense — whether this is conscious or not — that the instinctual energy within might otherwise risk erupting beyond their control in a destructive manner. The Nine, too, will often deny being angry when asked about it (getting even angrier and denying it even stronger if you keep bringing it up).

Anyone who has had a decent introduction to the model is likely to have heard the above distinctions. But then, there is the other perspective, which is more subtle — and therefore often harder to explain, requiring a more in-depth understanding of the model as such.

What are we referring to when we say the types in the instinctive triad are “anger types”?

Looking at the descriptions above, obviously we could just as well go on to talk about how Twos, Threes, and all of the other types typically process and express anger (but, since the instinctual energy is not as paramount to their psychological make-up, that would not be as meaningful as looking at their corresponding energy from the emotional and mental realms respectively). Because, as we already established, everyone gets angry. So what is the deal with these three types?

“Anger” as instinctual energy

Even if we look at the Eights — the type most likely to quite unapologetically direct their instinctual energy outwards and have no qualms about announcing it when they are furious — it’s not like even they are necessarily angry, as a state of mind, all of the time (or in some cases, even a lot). The One and certainly the Nine, even less so. Rather, the common theme of these three types is that they are motivated by the energy of anger, which is to say the energy of instinct; the energy of trying to make the world (or life) bend to how I think it should be and efforts to control (or resist) opposing forces, while at the same time resisting being affected by said forces themselves.

This energy generally operates at a deeper plane of existence than our everyday awareness stretches to. One reason for this is that its pure expression was often frowned upon, reprimanded, shamed or even outright punished in our childhood. When little children experience and experiment with their access to this instinctual energy (which for them constitutes a much bigger part of their overall experience than it does for the adults), adults often become uncomfortable, as they in turn were raised to contain or restrict theirs.

A deeper plane of experience

Another reason, though, is that most cultures and societies do not put the instinctual energy at the forefront of everyday life. We are busy functioning at what is generally considered a “higher” level of existence than the instinctual: the cognitive level, mostly, possibly with a little heart energy dropped into the mix when it’s safe and considered appropriate to do so.

Even in solitude, when there’s no one around to see it, the host of other features in our systems and the lack of societal awareness of the instinctual realm mean that most of us are still largely unaware of the instinctual energy. Alone, we might be aware of emotions, reactions or other parts of our experience that feel private — and sure, for the infamous Eight as well as for others, this might occasionally include feeling mightily pissed off or even raging. But it would be rare for us to just stand in that, experiencing the source of this force itself.

The instinctual energy lives at a deeper level of experience than just mood or reactivity. For most people, when they access this force experientially, it does not even feel like “anger”, but just raw, instinctual power. But closer to the surface level, the ego quickly interprets this experience as “anger” and reacts to it in varying ways — in the Eight, by embracing it and often abusing it, in the One, controlling it and trying to suppress it, and in the Nine, either pretending it’s not there or denying that it could possibly contribute positively to anything.

* * *

Next time you feel angry — for whatever reason, to whatever degree and regardless of which personality type you have, and when you have the opportunity to safely do so — you might experiment with the energy of it. Put the mental narrative about whatever situation gave rise to it aside for a minute or two, and just feel the energy of anger in your body. Let it inhabit you, feel its physical energy within. Give it a shape, or a sound, or both. Move with it. Let it spend itself. The resulting joy might surprise you ❤️

Is “positive outlook” actually a way of bypassing painful or negative aspects of life?

Enneagram, Enneagram groups, Types and typing

In Enneagram circles, we sometimes hear about “positive outlook” as a part of some types’ makeup. The term originally comes from Don Riso’s description of the Harmonic groups, that say something about each type’s coping strategies and habitual patterns of reaction; their go-to response, as it were. I wrote about the positive outlook — what it means and doesn’t really mean — the other day in the article The true meaning of ”positive outlook” in Sevens, Nines and Twos.

On and off, I hear about the positive outlook being (or, at the very least, offering) a bypass mechanism; a chance to disregard bothersome, worrying, saddening or angering bits of life and hiding in “focussing on the bright side”. This, and what part the positive outlook plays in this as part of your personality makeup, is a complex matter.

Let me first of all say that I absolutely agree that forced or compulsive positivism is indeed an obstacle to inner growth. Used like that, “positive bypass” is a potentially toxic and quite interference-resistant way of refusing to look at, explore, or ultimately dissolve disowned, suppressed or dark patches within ourselves and others. However, this is not necessarily what the positive outlook aspect of personality is. Saying “positive outlook equals bypass” is like saying “knives equal murder” or “the sun equals skin cancer”. And possibly, it points to some confusion about the aspects of our personality that the Harmonic groups show us.

A coping strategy is a balancing tool

The patterns and strategies we develop and use are tools, just like an axe is a tool. If I want to chop wood, the axe is perfectly suited for the job; in fact, without the axe, I’d be in trouble. If I want to carve some letters into a piece of wood and all I have is the axe, the tool is not ideal, but still better than trying to scratch with my fingernails. If I want to do acupressure on someone and use the same axe as my tool, the results might be catastrophic. But it’s the same axe. In itself, or isn’t good, bad, useful, redundant or unbalanced. It’s just a tool.

It works the same way with our patterns and strategies. They are there for a reason: they fill a purpose. Sometimes perfectly, other times less than ideal, and occasionally really badly — but if the results were always bad, we would have thrown them out.

The ego — a master of manipulation

So does it happen that Nines, Twos and Sevens use their toolbox to avoid looking at painful stuff? Sure. (Just as it happens that the rest of us to it, too; just because something is mentioned in describing a certain type structure other types are not devoid of that same feature.) But the thing is, it doesn’t have to. It’s not the tool, it’s what you do with it.

It’s the same axe. In itself, or isn’t good, bad, useful, redundant or unbalanced. It’s just a tool.

When it comes to taking whatever’s at hand and running with it, the ego is a star. And usually the running is in the direction of comfort, of the path of least resistance. In the case of pain, sure, the obvious escape might be into positivity, possibilities and optimism. But the ego has hijacked plenty of psychological functions to forward its agendas, not just one. So what about the other two Harmonic groups? Let’s take a closer look at them.

“Competency” — feelings later, thank you very much

On the one hand, we have the competency group, were the Ones, Threes and Fives belong (and where other types, too, dip their toes or, occasionally, go for a more extensive swim). Their coping strategy or patterns of reaction revolve around rationality: looking neutrally, writing lists, thinking strategically, focusing on objective reality (to the extent that it exists) and not getting their emotions involved.

Does this feature sound like it could help you escape looking at yourself and dealing with your personal pain and darkness? For sure. The only reason “positive” had become such a therapeutic red flag is that it’s relatively modern and tries to look evolved. But escaping emotions by going into rationalism and logic is as old as time. The rational is, after all, the very opposite of the emotional. From the ego’s point of view, it offers a safe escape from feeling or even approaching pain on the emotional plane.

So we can see that competency makes just as fine a bypass as positivism. It’s just so common in society that it either goes without saying or you miss it entirely (depending, likely, on how much under work you’ve done and how fond your ego is of this particular flavour of escapism). The third group, however, is a little trickier.

“Emotional realness” — as long as the emotions in question are on the guest list

For a long time, the Riso-Hudson teaching struggled to name this group. First, it was called “reactive”, implying emotional reactivity. But then all these are about reactivity in some form, so that really didn’t cut it. Later, Russ suggested the name “(match my) intensity”, but that also was problematic, as the bit in parenthesis was significant, but often got dropped. And lastly (as far as I’m aware), he started calling the group “emotional realness”.

Whichever term we prefer, it requires some unpacking. The Four, Six and Eight, who make up this group, are all in some way emotionally expressive and in touch with how they feel. But already, we need to back up a bit. It’s not like they are comfortable with feeling, let alone expressing, all emotional nuances. (Eights are famous for happily expressing anger, but not really comfortable with sadness and certainly not with fear — for example. Et cetera. Our ego-personality as a whole has a lot to say about which emotions are okay to express, to whom and in what situations.)
But its not only that. This group is also characterised by its request — or hard claim, as the case may be — for a response. It’s not that the other has to agree, per se, but at least s/he has to respond. (This is why the parenthesis matter in the term “(Match my) intensity”.)

When the ego appropriates our psychological functions, it’s usually not an upgrade in terms of presence and awareness.

Anyway. This group does acknowledge feelings, especially negative ones, it seems. These types are emotionally expressive. So aren’t they doing it right? This is where it gets interesting. It turns out you can successfully hide from experiencing your feelings by expressing them.

Hiding in plain sight — cameo style or in disguise

Obviously, this is not always the case. Sometimes it is through expressing that we actually get in touch with emotional material, especially if the expression happens in a therapeutic setting — in front of a canvas, on a dance floor … you get the picture. But just as often, that’s not what happens.

One way we can escape what’s really going on inside is by ramping up an emotion that covers up another. This is what happens when the Eights mentioned above gets angry and rowdy, when the truth might be that the anger is a reaction to a fear that he does not want to acknowledge (or even realises exists), or covers up some other feeling that he deems “weak” and prefers not to explore.

It turns out you can successfully hide from experiencing your feelings by expressing them.

Another form of “emoting” that the ego employs is drama. Say, for example, that something happens that makes me sad. But instead of experiencing the true “sad” inside, I express it, dramatise it and possibly exaggerate it. I might cry and wail, I might sob my heart out — but I’m actually occupied with the story of my sadness rather than feeling and processing it. (This ego strategy might, in contrast, bring to mind type Four — but again, obviously, all of us can employ all kinds of strategies at one point or another.)

”Awareness is right; unawareness is wrong”

The late mystic Osho once said, Awareness is right; unawareness is wrong. This was in response to a question about right and wrong, and an attempt to say that it’s not necessarily what you do, it’s your motivation and, ultimately, the presence of mind (and heart, and gut) with which you do it.

This goes for almost everything in life, and it’s certainly applicable to our coping strategies and patterns of reactivity. When the ego appropriates our psychological functions, it’s usually not an upgrade in terms of presence and awareness 😉. What the Enneagram can do is show us where our tendencies lie and gently point us to patterns and “just how I am!” that we might want to take a closer look at ❤️

The true meaning of ”positive outlook” in Sevens, Nines and Twos

Enneagram groups

Often in Enneagram descriptions, we see Nines, Twos and Sevens described as having a “positive outlook”. But what is this about? Surely, there are plenty of surly Nines, nagging Twos or impatient Sevens around? Are they really all that “positive”? Let’s clear up some of the confusion 😊

The term “positive outlook” came about when Don Riso discovered the set of Enneagram groups that he called the Harmonic groups — groups that don’t match the centre triads or the Hornevian groups, but have their own symmetry. This grouping refers to how the types respond to conflict, difficulties and, well, life happening, revealing the types’ go-to response and general patterns that they tend to fall into.

Positivity, competence and emotional realness

The three groups that Don Riso identified were the “Competency” group (the Three, One and Five), the “Emotional realness” group (the Six, Four and Eight) and the “Positive Outlook” group (the Nine, Two and Seven). Attentive readers might notice that they all, just like the centre triads and the Harmonic groups, centre around one of the primary types (the Three, Six and Nine) on the unilateral triangle, then include the “neighbour’s neighbour” on each side. All of these need some amount of explanation, as names can only cover so much, but for this blog entry, we are focussing on the positive outlook group. This seems to be the one most often falling prey to misinterpretation.

Of course, like all names for various groups and phenomena in the Enneagram world (and most other worlds, too), the term “positive outlook” cannot be taken at face value. It’s not a term that is meant for me, the listener, to take and interpret freely. It points to something, and as such a pointer, serves to remind me of what it encompasses. No name will ever cover the whole meaning of what it represents. It’s like the map and the territory again; if the name (the map) were to cover all of what or represents (the territory), then it would be very long (or large) indeed. So we need to remember that “positive outlook” is the name, not the description.

But then, what is this positivity about? Well, it certainly doesn’t mean to say that Nines, Twos and Sevens are chirpy all the time or only ever seeing the positive side of things. As I said already at the beginning of this article, we all know grumpy Nines, nagging Twos and impatient and restless Sevens, none of which really make poster children for words like ”positive”, “upbeat” or “uplifting”. So what does “positive outlook” actually mean? Well, in one way we actually come closer to the answer if we look at it as negativity-averse rather than positive.

Modes of “negativity-aversion”

Many descriptions paint these types as donning rose-coloured glasses when times get rough, but that is a gross over-simplification. This can happen, and as a group, they can risk erring on the side of “ohh, but it’ll be okay, surely …” rather than over-worrying. As a group. In general. This is when the positivity borders on (or falls downright over into) a bypass of pain, discomfort or garden-variety bad stuff, a phenomenon which I’ll write about in later blog post. (Also, please note that this is not exclusive to Nines, Twos and Sevens. It’s just more relevant as a part of their general description than it is for the other six types. That, btw, goes for the bypassing well as the outlook in general and the different expressions below.)

So what does “positive outlook” actually mean? Well, in one way we actually come closer to the answer if we look at it as negativity-averse rather than positive.

So if it’s not rose-tainted glasses, what is it, then? It’s generally something in the direction of:

an orientation away from the uncomfortable “negativity”
an orientation towards the future, looking at possible solutions (at best) or anything else on the horizon (at worst)
soothing the spikes, talking it through

An orientation away from

This where we’d find the textbook Nine (but, obviously not, every Nine individual, and certainly not every time). If something disappointing/painful/inconvenient happened, the attitude is something like: “Fine, this happened. Can’t be helped now. Let’s focus on something else.” If the negativity is people in the immediate environment not agreeing (or worse, loudly and aggressively not agreeing), it’ll be something like “Keep me out of it.” As we see, it’s not necessarily that the Nine is happy and smiling (although s/he could be trying to smooth over a disagreement, depending on the circumstances). It’s not like s/he necessarily, or even most often, forcibly tries to change the atmosphere to a more upbeat or happy one. It’s more an avoidance of negativity, pain, discomfort and discord.

An orientation towards the future

This shows strongest in the Sevens. Just like the Nines, they say: Why wallow in the pain/misery/inconvenience of here and now when it’ll be different tomorrow (or over there) anyway? But when Sevens do this, it’s with an air of, “Fine, this happened, but now, the interesting part is how we proceed!” Where to from here? Sevens want to go somewhere — there might have been a mishap, but if they are going to take that mishap into consideration at all, it’s going to be to see how it can be different next time.

Soothing the spikes

For the Two, it’s not primarily about moving away — neither “from the bad” nor “into the future”. The Two personality does not need to shy away from negativity as such; at least as long as it not theirs, personally. If “you” suffer, after all, “I can be there for you”. And that, as a Two, I don’t mind at all.

I’m there to take care of you, to offer something positive, to be interested in you and what you are going through; what we are, at this moment, going through together. You can talk to me, and you will get through this.

If the bad stuff happening is happening to me, my negativity-aversion primarily takes the form of focussing on helping someone (or something) else, so as not to sink too deep into it.

Mostly, it’s about what it’s not 😊

All these versions of positive outlook has an overtone if we will get through this, tomorrow is another day and a hint of if I stare to long into the abyss I might get sucked into it. It’s not about cheer or outbursts of optimism. Both these things might spring from the positive outlook, but they are not what it, in itself, is about. Rather, it’s about not getting stuck in the negative swamp, not letting it get to you or take over. It’s not necessarily that you always feel optimistic; rather, it’s about a reluctance to give in to adversity and pain.

Also, as I said many times already, it’s not that this describes the individual at every turn. This group get bummed, too. They fall apart. They suffer. We are all equally human, after all. To get the most out of this label, we need to remember that it describes type structures, not necessarily people. Often, with various expressions depending on the individual’s psychological health, it does a good job of describing the average individual, too — but when it doesn’t, there are plenty of explanations for that.

Like so many of the names or “representative terms” of the Enneagram, “positive outlook” points to something. When we get a feel for that something, rather than staring at the words in the name, we come closer to the types that it describes.

Bringing the space — our collective need for room to digest and process

Enneagram, Enneagram groups, Inner growth

When I have had Enneagram courses, we’ve looked into the Hornevian groups. We look at the different social strategies, what they are and what they contribute. Usually, we have the different groups gather and reflect on themselves and the others. And often, the same thing happens — a thing which, as I see it, illustrates a deep need in our current society.

You know the Hornevian groups? It’s the three-by-three cut out of the types that Don Riso and Russ Hudson named after the German psychoanalyst Karen Horney. Horney, in turn, identified three interpersonal trends in people: moving against, towards or away from others. Among the Enneagram types, Riso-Hudson identified the Three, Seven and Eight as “moving against”, while the One, Two and Six were the “moving towards”, and the Four, Five and Nine were “moving away from”.

How the different groups respond to their environment

As you might already have gathered, this says something about how each type moves in response to being poked, approached or basically just energetically touched by others. This movement is on a neurological level, but often in practice, too. The first (“moving against”) group, that they called the assertives, will rise in response to others and meet the energy of the request, event or person.

The second group (“moving towards”), got the label duty types (after initially being called “compliant types”). They respond by taking a a kind of inventory. What they take inventory of differs, but it will be some form of authority other than themselves: other people present, a group they belong to, or an internalised set of rules, for example. Then, after this orientation, they can decide how to proceed.

And the last group of three, called the withdrawn types, will respond by taking a step back. This step might be physical, but whether it is or not, it’s always energetic. They need space to process the request, event or whatever happened, before deciding how to respond.

Different processes, same (or not) outcome

This might make it sound like the withdrawn types are slower, which is not necessarily be the case. Sometimes, they are just not prepared to release half-baked thoughts the way other types might be comfortable doing; they want the whole thing complete in their mind before they open their mouth. And the same might go for feelings: they need time to sort them out, or to let stuff percolate — but then the brew is finished, they might know for much surer than someone else (or not, of course 😉). The point is, we just process things differently.

Invisible space; silent emptiness

Looking into how each group contributes to the whole, sometimes people struggle with the withdrawns — not least the withdrawns themselves. Its traits and preferences seem offer a subtraction rather than an addition). So how does this group contribute?

As a contribution, things like space and emptiness are notoriously easy to miss. Space, after all, is a nothingness, a no-thing. If someone gives nothing, they haven’t contributed anything – right? Well. A universe devoid of empty space would be a useless, infinitely dense clunk of matter. And picture a gathering where everyone asserted themselves, or tried to orient themselves towards something to adjust their aim. There would be no room to think, feel, digest or process.

Life needs space

For things to develop, grow and mature, space is needed. Stillness and pauses are needed. And as far as what the withdrawn energy contributes, in my experience, this is it 🧡.

Of course, it takes some measure of grounding for withdrawn types to bring this into a room full of non-withdrawns. If you wait for an opening before you introduce your energy, you easily get drowned out. As for the rest of us, it takes at least a bit of openness to not just plough on. It’s hard to force-feed anyone space.

But still, space — pauses, stillness and room for reflection and gestation — are so desperately needed in our world today. Increasingly, we tend to sacrifice all things “invisible” in our quest for (what seems like) greater efficiency, and this is not good for anyone. Our fellow Four, Five and Nine friends have a precious gift to share with us. Please, do ❤️