It’s the -no-thought that counts!

So, last week we started a bit of a discussion about communication. I made a stab at describing the Western approach to communication, which almost always involves using some form of communication model. I mentioned that Darbella and I use what’s called the "Haven Model," and I would also say that their model pretty well matches the original Couples Communication model I learned as a baby therapist in training, back in 1982.

Here’s the model, since you asked!

I think that the two "hardest parts" of any communication model are,

1. realizing the difference between a feeling and an interpretation (thought) , and
2. doing what you say you will do. (action)

As to the first one, I was talking with a client recently who said, "Yesterday was a really anxious day." I replied, "Days aren’t anxious, so that would be better put, "I made myself anxious yesterday.""

As she was lying face down on the bodywork table at the time, she rapidly pushed herself up into what would be called, in yoga, the Cobra Pose, her face filled with disbelief.

She said, "All my life, I’ve believed that there are good days and bad days—that externals cause feelings. You’re saying I caused my anxiety!"

I replied, "Not quite. You felt something in your body, and interpreted it as anxiety. Declaring yourself (or the day!) anxious is a thought. What were you actually feeling in your body?"

She said, "My muscles were really tight, and I wasn’t breathing much… holy crap, that fits! I almost never breathe very much!"

I then said, "Right. The feeling is tight and breathless. That feeling leads to the thought, "I am anxious." In actuality, you could call the tight and breathless feeling in your body anything you chose. It’s just a label."

So what’s the point here?

Well, often people use their feelings as bludgeons — they suggest, and none too subtly, that others are the cause—are to blame—for their poor little pitiful feelings. So, we work really hard to get people to own their bodily sensations, while also owning the stories they tell themselves about those sensations. This is what we mean by self-responsibility (among other things.) If I say, "Here is the story I’m inventing regarding the tight feeling in my stomach," I have ceased to blame "you" for either the feeling or the thought.

This whole thing is very Zen.

Eastern Perspectives — clouds in the sky, mirrors in the mind

Today, I want to add to the discussion by mentioning two twisty, turny little ideas.

The first idea is this: we know things by their opposite, and all couplets are an essential unity.

The second idea is this: thoughts are not real — they are, in a sense, like clouds drifting along on a blue sky day. You could say that the clouds are there, but they have absolutely no effect on the sky. Or they are reflections in a mirror—seemingly real, but only there until they are gone.

Opposites

My front! It has a back!

I’ve likely mentioned this before, but it is impossible to know anything unless we have something to compare it to. So, for example,

We know that water is hot compared to water that is cooler.

We know that something is tall, compared to something that is shorter.

We know pleasure as it is compared to pain.

And,( here’s where it gets sticky) we know happiness because there is sadness to compare it to.

Which flies totally in the face of all the people out there who want to lead a "happy life," and can’t comprehend why happiness doesn’t exist 24/7.

Here’s the twisty-turny part. You think that you are inside of you. That you live "in there." You might even think that inside includes your outside —your skin. But it is impossible for there to be an inside by itself. Or an outside. Therefore, if something cannot exist without it’s opposite, the "opposites" are, in reality, one thing. So, you are not only your inside, but are also essentially everything outside of you, and the whole thing is one unity! Insides and outside are simply two aspects of the same thing. (Two sides of one coin.)

Many people are caught in the dreamland of thinking that everything should work out fine— and that all people should be healthy, happy, wealthy, and wise.

And yet, these terms are relative, in that they have to, by definition, relate to something else— sickness, unhappiness, poverty, and dumbness. Everyone is somewhere on a continuum — somewhere relative to something or someone else. Thus, for example, perfect happiness cannot exist, because it begs the question, "Compared to what?"

This is just the way it is. Railing against it changes nothing. Indeed, we can take any one of these couplets, and recognize in them the Yin/Yang symbol. Or, visualized another way, if happiness is one side of the coin, unhappiness is the other. In the words of the song lyric, "You can’t have one without the other." No matter how much you wish it were otherwise.

This fits into good communication in the following way.

Most people go through their lives one day out of sync. In other words, rather than living in the here and now, their focus is on tomorrow. Always tomorrow. The judgment is, "Things really suck today, but tomorrow my Prince will come everything will be perfect!"

The same thing applies to how they deal with their partner. There’s the thought that, "He really screwed up today, but if I keep nagging at him, maybe he’ll be better tomorrow."

This, as opposed to, "This is how it is right now, and here is what I will do to shift things in another direction."

In other words, we really do need to stop judging our lives on the basis of how we imagine they ought to be and begin accepting them as they are. Accepting doesn’t mean accepting forever. It means accepting how things are right now as how things are right now. In this way, we stop playing mental games with ourselves, and then blaming the world. We stop pretending that we can force the world to behave itself according to our standards — that our indignation can eliminate the Yin/Yang-ness of life. And the reason we want to learn to do this is it’s simply a waste of time to think otherwise.

Clouds and Mirrors

I know. That one was pretty obscure. Rather than trying to pin it further to the ground, what I’m really trying to say is this.

Thoughts are like clouds in the sky. We see them, and we think, "Wow! Those clouds are huge! They are so big they could knock down a house!" Except, no they aren’t, and no they can’t. They may have some substance — they do exist — but they don’t amount to much.

Just like our thoughts.

Or, think of your mind as a mirror, and your thoughts as reflections. Mirrors have nothing to do with what they reflect. An object comes into view and the (normal) mirror reflects back the image, while taking nothing of the thing reflected into itself. The image is unreal, ephemeral.

And no, I’m not really talking about analytical thought. I’m sure Einstein developed the Theory of Relativity partially in his head. That might have been a useful thought. I’m thinking about the kind of thoughts that lead precisely nowhere.

For example, many people in couples will say stuff like, "I know exactly what he’s thinking." And I wonder aloud if she’s asked him, and she assures me that she doesn’t need to—she just knows. Well, phooey.

Whatever is going on in your head is just your story

What you believe about how you were parented, what you believe about your relationships, what you believe about your child rearing skills, what you believe about your employment — it’s all just you talking to yourself —and it’s all just as relevant as clouds in the sky. In fact, if you’re trying to figure out what Zen is all about, it’s not really about the sitting. It’s about watching your thoughts while sitting, and noticing how fleeting and unsubstantial they are. They arise, they drift by, they go — so long as we don’t grab hold of them.

It’s the "grabbing hold of" that gets people in trouble.

They get an idea about a situation, or an illness, or a person, and they not only believe that idea is true, they demand that others believe it too. They ascribe all kinds of meaning to what other people are doing, with no data other than the stories they’ve invented in their heads, and then they expect the other person to agree with their story. They have all kinds of reasons and justifications for staying stuck, and get quite incensed when someone suggests they drop the nonsense and do something different.

Mirrors do not grab hold of what they reflect.

Dialog becomes a holding up of a mirror—"Here is what I see and hear, and here is the story I am telling myself." There is no attempt to change the other person—there is just mindful feedback.

In Zen, and communication, and in life, what matters is not the stories we tell ourselves inside our pointy little heads, but rather what we do when confronted with a dilemma. Rather than judge it, rather than fervently wish for its opposite, rather than hoping endlessly for rescue, we do something different.

We speak responsibly, owning our stories, describing our feelings and taking full responsibility for all of it. And then we simply concoct an alternative behavior and enact it. If it works, we do more of it — if it doesn’t, we drop it and attempt something else.

What you think doesn’t matter, the external world is as it is, and the only thing you have a modicum of control over is what you do next.

Choose, and enact, well.

Clouds is a post from: The Phoenix Centre's Blog. If you're reading this article anywhere else on the web, let me know!

Related posts:

1. Mirror

The only thing I ever see—is me

Since it seems that what I do most when working with couples is talk about communication, I thought I might write an article or two about this topic.

I suspect that the reason that most couples have problems in this area is that most people have grown up witnessing poor communication. So let me define a few things that good communication is not.

Good communication is not:

• getting another person to agree with you.
• teaching, explaining, or lecturing.
• manipulating another person into doing things your way.
• bargaining, cajoling, or begging.

Good communication is:

• clearly differentiating between thoughts and feelings.
• being self responsible.
• being willing to honestly state what you know about your thoughts and feelings.

And lastly:

Learning to embrace the Eastern concept of "mirror mind."

Most people grow up seeing myriad examples of poor communication. They hear the adults around them speaking from a place of self-righteousness. They hear about wounded feelings, and learned (erroneously) that other people or external situations are responsible for what each adult is feeling.

And speaking of feelings, most adults have real trouble grasping the difference between a feeling and a thought. So let’s start there.

Feelings Are Just That

Here’s a 100% rule for you:

Everything that is going on inside of you is about you, or better put, is "caused" by you.

The Buddhist concept of emptiness speaks to this. We’ve talked about this a lot, but when we say "empty," we mean "empty of meaning." In other words, using the illustration of speech, what someone says to you is nothing more than sound. What you do with that sound is 100% up to you.

In a sense, because of this, I don’t believe in emotional or verbal abuse. It’s not that I don’t believe people can say something that they intend to be hurtful. It’s that, and here’s the hard part, the intention of the other person has nothing to do with what I do with his or her action.

In actuality, verbal and emotional abuse is self abuse. Now, I know, those of you who think you been verbally abused are probably looking for the "unsubscribe" button. But hear me out.

Once we become adults, we always have a choice about who we hang around with. If the person we’re with starts using ‘his’ words in an intentionally hurtful way, I can choose not to hurt myself over them, while at the same time indicating that we either do therapy or I will leave.

Instead, what typically happens is the person on the receiving end metaphorically "picks up the knife and stabs herself," demands that the perpetrator stop, and goes immediately to, "This isn’t fair! He shouldn’t be treating me like this!" This victim-based approach changes precisely nothing.

Three things

In any situation, there are actually only three choices.

1. The first is to continue,
2. the second is to leave, and
3. the third is to whine.

Under "continue," there are two sub choices.

1. One is to accept things as they are, and
2. the second is to head into therapy, or something similar, to shift the situation.

I find it odd that most people choose the third option.

More on this down the line.

So, to go back to the 100% rule, words are words, no matter what mommy told you. Here’s how it actually works.

Let’s imagine that Sally says to Sam, "You never listen to me!" Now, let’s remember that Sally’s intention is immaterial to Sam’s response. In other words, despite Sally’s intention, the words only mean what Sam makes of them.

There’s really no way to determine whether feelings or thoughts come first. But what happens is this: the electrical signals that are Sally’s words reach Sam’s brain. At that instant, Sam’s brain simultaneously interprets the words, (decides who "you" is, remembers what "never" means, etc.) and then ascribes meaning, while also, perhaps, attaching a feeling.

All of that is Sam’s doing, and has everything to do with who Sam is, how he was brought up, and what his level of self-awareness is.

If Sam is normal, (meaning broken, and inept at communication…) Sam is going to react instead of responding.

• For example, he might flatly deny what he assumes is an accusation. "Of course I listen to you, you never shut up!"
• Or, Sam might specifically challenge the word "never." "I spent an hour listening to you this morning."
• Or, he might go on the offensive. "What you mean I don’t listen? You never listen to me! And besides, we haven’t had sex in a week!"

And then, depending on the feeling he creates, he might sulk, walk away, start yelling, etc.

A self responsible person, on the other hand, would do two things.
First, he would indicate what choices he is making internally.
Second, he would express curiosity.

Internal Choices

Here’s where we begin to differentiate between feelings and thoughts. According to the communication model that we follow (the Haven Model), all feelings are felt in the body. (Thus, "I feel you don’t understand me" is NOT a feeling.)

For example, we can feel warm toward someone or cold toward someone. We can feel close to someone, or distant from them. We can be attracted, or repulsed. We can feel open, or closed.

Sam might say, "As I hear you say that, I feel cold and distant from you."

Now, notice that Sam did not say, "You made me…" He uses his language to own his feelings. There is a very practical reason for doing this. If Sam were to say, "You are making me sad," Sam would be declaring himself to be a victim, and it’s quite possible that the conversation will get derailed — either Sam and Sally end up talking about Sam’s sadness, or they end up arguing about whether making Sam sad was Sally’s intent. In either case, Sally’s (poorly expressed) issue gets trumped by Sam’s.

Rather, the self responsible person uses "I" language to describe their internal, self-created "feeling-state."
" Here’s who I am, and here’s what’s up for me."

Sam might then shift to what he is thinking.

Darbella and I love to use the following clause — "So, the story I’m telling myself is…" You could substitute "judgment," or "interpretation" for "the story I’m telling myself."

Sam: "So, the story I’m telling myself is that you’re trying to pick a fight —and I am making myself anxious, and judging that you no longer love me."

Now, while the language is a bit kludgy, this is actually a description of what’s going on inside of Sam, and it’s devoid of any blame directed at Sally.

Curiosity

If Sally is wise, she hears what Sam is saying — that he’s describing his internal experience and in no way is he blaming her. So Sally can have a breath, as opposed to getting all defensive. In other words, at most, Sally might say, "Tell me more."

If Sam is wise, having expressed what’s up for him, he might remember where the conversation started. Sally was raising an issue about thinking that she was unheard. (Remember, you can’t "feel" unheard — it’s a thought, not a feeling.)

Sam might say, "I’m curious about what you think I’m not hearing." This is an open invitation for Sally to share more information, while also noticing her own thoughts.

This is Sam, mirroring Sally.

The curiosity question is a very clear mirror — "Here is what I heard — please tell me more." And it’s called a mirroring question because it acts like a mirror. The reflection in a standard mirror is neither more, nor less, than the object reflected.

Now, as some of you are going to want to argue that real people don’t talk like this — that fighting and arguing and name-calling are the basis of relating.

In the words of Dr. Phil, all I can say is, "How’s that working for you?"

The only thing the "normal approach" gets you is more of the same — resentment, more fights, the silent treatment, anger, drama.

If that’s what you want, by all means keep doing it.

Or, you could grow up, and get over yourself.

Next week, we’ll talk about mirroring from an Eastern perspective.

Mirror is a post from: The Phoenix Centre's Blog. If you're reading this article anywhere else on the web, let me know!

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3. Do not use force. Use example.

So, 20 years ago, Darbella and I were "playing at" Ninjitsu. After a strenuous 6 months, we both tested for our first Black Belt. And passed, having each been "attacked" by 5 people at once.

I remember one funny moment. Sensei said, "Wayne passes, and he did this even though he is almost 40!" I thought his comment hilarious.

What I was most impressed by was this sweet little 70 year old lady, whose goal was to learn to do a forward roll. Basically, when someone trips or throws you, you need to know how to land. This video is helpful, so have a look.

After the same 6 month period, the lady could actually do this from a standing position, most of the time.

I mention this to talk about levels.

Our wonderful Iyengar Yoga instructor, Fay Gascho, when teaching a new asana, will break it down, teaching ever-increasingly difficult steps to the actual asana. She typically says, "This (stage) might be the bus stop you want to get off at." She means, if this is as far as you can get, comfortably, right now, then go this far.

Bus Stops along the Way

Dar and I are a few weeks away from starting our injured worker’s group. There will be "bus stops" along the way. The idea is to encourage the participants to go 1-2% past their comfort level. If they pull up too soon, nothing will change. If they go too far too soon, they’ll get injured.

So, you need to see where you are, and push yourself just past your comfort point. Again and again.
And, getting off at a bus stop does not mean staying there. It’s simply a stop along the way.

The Ninjitsu story is just a cute little story about expectations.

That Dar and I passed our 1st Black Belt test meant that we could stop there, or keep training. That does not mean that we were somehow "better" than the lady who accomplished forward roll.

To the Eastern mind, levels are nothing more than viewpoints along the way.

To the Western, linear mind, higher is better. So, instead of a gentle journey, everything is a competition.

We encourage the gentle approach.

This applies in counselling/bodywork. Often, clients come in wanting symptom relief. This is the very first bus stop. I encourage my clients, on the other hand, to keep going. Gently, but persistently.

The reason people stop is fear.

Fear of crossing a boundary, fear of "the new," fear of "what might happen." Of standing out. Of being different. Of having feelings that are judged "inappropriate, or too chargy." Fear of being alive.

The game Dar and I play, as we work on ourselves, and with clients, is how to provide the optimal inspiration, so that both our clients, and we ourselves, are challenged to keep moving.

Stuck at a Bus Stop

It’s odd. I remember one client, a long time ago, who was making progress, pushing boundaries, finding herself. Suddenly, she stopped coming in. A mutual friend asked her why. She replied, "Gotta keep going, trying new things!" Oddly, each time she tried something new, she covered the same ground.

In other words, each time she hit her growing edge, the chargy, scary edge, she started over.

Many clients play this game, and endlessly loop over the same ground, maybe marginally moving, but seemingly unaware they are stuck.

Now, we have no magic answers, other than persistence. I wouldn’t want to guess how many really bad forward rolls the lady did, prior to figuring it out. Months worth, 3 times a week. Her persistence paid off the day she threw caution to the wind and actually rolled instead of flopping.

Same for us, in Ninja-land. While we may have sort of mastered the 8 techniques necessary for the test, we could also see how little we really knew about the elegant mechanics of it all. We were more proficient, and there was a lifetime of "more" to learn.

The Point? Personal depth work has no end.

Well, it does, but it ends at death, so while we are living, we are on a path. While different people may be a different places on the path, it’s all about the walk. Those further along the path help those coming along, in an endless stream of hand-holding.

Sitting by the side of the road, for a moment’s rest, is OK, as long as you see that sitting there is just and only that—sitting there.

We therefore encourage getting back up and walking. This requires being willing to examine your sticking places, and to move through them, no matter how scary.

Also required is not distracting yourself. I know a ton of people who focus on externals like work, their partner, their kids (hey Jim!,) whatever, and miss the exhilaration of the walk. Depth is never found in an external focus. It’s found in self-depth—from there, you can play any way you want to.

If your walk has slowed or stopped (or if you are using excuses for not starting (and I’m amazed, for example, at how many people use finances as an excuse…)) reconsider. Find someone to work with, and start.

Push your boundaries, stop sticking yourself, and remember, this walk is not about how hard you worked at work. It’s about how willing you were to go deep… and find… yourself.

Levels is a post from: The Phoenix Centre's Blog. If you're reading this article anywhere else on the web, let me know!

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So, last week I tossed out the idea of delusion being one of the three things we cling to (the other 2 being attraction and aversion.) Which of course begs the question:

why would we cling to delusion?

Well, think of it this way.

If only he’d see it my way!

Often, when I talk with clients, they give me a list of all the things others in their life are doing wrong. (By wrong, remember, they mean, "Not how I want them to do it!")

They present a full and rich story of all of the other person’s sins, both of omission and commission. Then they sit smugly back, and ask me to help them fix the other person!

Now, I wouldn’t even if I could, because everyone has the right to be however they are, but that’s not the point.

What people tell me about the others in their life is a figment of their imagination. A story. A tale.

An illusion.

So, my job, if you will, is to dis-illusion them.

One client recently decided to change something in her relationship, and then she told me, in glowing detail, how her husband was going to sabotage things, and how he was going to mess up her plan. Then (I love miracles) during bodywork, she said, "You know, I just realized that I could make that change, and not make a big deal out of it, and I’m sure my husband would agree completely with the change."

Now, get this straight.

I don’t think that her illusion was merely her first story — the part where she told herself, in glowing detail, about how her husband was going to sand-bag her idea — and that the second story she told herself —with him cooperating fully —was "true." Only time will tell what happens, should she actually choose to do something different.

No, the first story was a story, and so was the second. It was just a more benign story.

All illusion, all made up.

To dis-illusion her, I might say, "Why don’t you just shift the thing, drop the stories, and see what actually happens?"

I don’t know about you, but I still spend way too much time up in my head, telling myself stories, and I even know I’m doing it. In fact, I’ve spent years learning to watch my drama, calmly. As I said last week, mostly I catch myself and stop. Occasionally, I need a nudge, and Darbella’s more than glad to give me one.

And here’s the kicker: it’s easier for me to see the story-ness about the stories I tell about others. It’s much harder to recognize that not only are the stories we tell ourselves about others total fabrications of our imagination, but so are the stories we tell ourselves about ourselves.

“What do you mean, I’m missing something???”

We lie to ourselves, all the time, and often choose not to notice, to challenge ourselves. To stop ourselves.

While it’s lame and facile to say it, when you think about it, most of us have little, niggling issues that we blow up into earthshaking dramas.

And they are especially minuscule compared to the people, say, of Haiti, where the earth really shook.

But we whine and moan and complain about all of our little dramas, and typically gather with others and whine some more.

And nothing, really, is going on.

And even in the midst of a real situation (like Haiti, or a serious illness, or death…) there is only this: I will do what I can do. Sitting down and giving up accomplishes nothing, so I will act, and see what happens next.

Now, I know that some of you want to say, "Yes, but all this crap in the world (and especially in my little world!) is just not fair!"

Well, phooey.

Life isn’t fair. Life just is.

So, what do we do?

Well, we start to notice our own bullshit. Our stories, evasions, half-truths, and unwillingness to accept total responsibility for ourselves, and only for ourselves.

Once I accept total responsibility, I can do whatever I choose to do. If I will not change my story (about others, about myself) I am doomed to sit in the mud-pile, slinging clods of dirt at imaginary ghosts.

Here’s a little story:

The Plane! The Plane!

I used to hang out with a guy who was a pilot. I’d go flying with him, and he’d even let me steer, once we were up. One time, he decided we should do a series of "touch and go" thingies. This means you fly to an airport, ask for permission, and then sort of land, but you just touch down, and then accelerate again and take right back off. It’s actually landing practice.

Here comes the illusion part.

We headed up to an airport near Port Elgin in Ontario. We were chatting away, and he’d glanced that the big book that has all the maps of runways. He’d found the airport location, we spotted it, and headed in for the touch and go.

So, we’re heading for the runway, and suddenly, he says, "Oh shit."

Now, these are 2 words you’d rather not hear in an airplane.

I can’t give you the actual measurements, but let’s do it this way. Standard small airports have 40 foot wide runways. This airport’s runway was 25 feet wide. My pilot buddy was landing "eyes only," had not looked up the width of the runway in the book, and was not looking at the altimeter. So, when he said what he said, he’d just realized that he was a whole lot closer to touching down than he thought he was, given that 25 foot runway and all, and we were heading in at a much-too-brisk pace.

I remember thinking (I kid you not…) "Oh well, lovely day for a crash landing."

So, his illusion was where the plane was in relation to the ground, in space and time.

Now, if the pilot had demanded that his story was true (that we were really higher than we were) we’d have eaten the runway. We’d have also eaten it if he froze, and said, "It’s just not fair!"

Instead, he dis-illusioned himself.

He jerked back on the stick, goosed the throttle, and said, "Hang on!" (I always laugh when I hear that. It reminds me of "duck and cover" as a protection against an atom bomb…) so I just had a breath and watched the runway rush up.

We hit with quite the bang. We even had to fly past an airport tower to get the guys to make sure the wheels were still attached. They were…

We were flying a STOL plane (that’s Short Take Off and Landing, and that’s it in the photo above) so goosing the throttle actually worked, and the sucker shot right back off the runway.

In short, we didn’t die, nor crash. (Wink.)

We might have, had he not noticed the illusion (a real optical illusion, yet no different from the bullshit stories we tell ourselves.)

He snapped out of it, pulled up, goosed it, and we lived to talk about it.

So, there you go!

Snap out of it, pull up, goose yourself, and get over it.
Now – before you crash and burn.
Yet again!

Disillusionment is a post from: The Phoenix Centre's Blog. If you're reading this article anywhere else on the web, let me know!

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