I wrote something similar to the title of this note as my Facebook status one day. The question was sort of a joke (and sort of not!), but actually it is a very good question! Is it okay with you if someone who you see as—well, I don't know how you see me, but some of the nicer descriptions I have heard include wise, self-aware, loving, resilient, someone who "gets it"—loses it sometimes? (Or, in my case, during this past year, rather often?)
The responses from my Facebook friends ran the gamut. Some thanked me for my honesty. Others asked me (in a well-meaning way, or not) if I could absolutely know it was true. A few hoped I would feel better soon. And still others asked me if it was okay with me that I felt the way I did. That is, of course, an even better question.
I can't imagine how not to be other than how I am in the moment, and I'm sure there are those who would expect differently, and might become disenchanted to learn that, simply because I facilitate The Work, write about it, and use self-inquiry as a personal practice, my life is not a choral reading of A Thousand Names for Joy. (If I were to write the story of my life, it would be a book of humorous essays more aptly titled "A Thousand Names for OY!" Or perhaps, "Eat, Pray, Love, Kvetch.")
I have some really good tools for getting balanced and happier in my life when I'm off-kilter, and I love to share those tools. I'm told I'm a good teacher of those tools. I'm inspired by the teachings that inspired those tools as well, even if I don't fully understand or embody them all...even when I'm resistant to using these perfectly simple and effective solutions.
Shocker: since I'm human and I don't always allow myself to "know what I know," I'm sure I have at least as many "bad" days as the average person! I don't always love that I have as many "off" moments, or days, as I do, but I'd rather be authentic and transparent about it than not. And it really is okay with me that I have them, otherwise, instead of sharing this, I would hide behind a happy-happy-joy-joy persona that isn't me 24/7 by a longshot!
So if I am miserable, and I know there is a way out of being miserable, that's how I know it's okay with me that I'm miserable. Nothing wrong with that. In my experience, when I allow myself to keep company with misery, rather than trying to banish it, I end up feeling somewhat less miserable. This allows room in my head and heart to meet misery with understanding. Once understood, misery seems to get bored with me and, eventually, it goes away.
One time I went to a talk by Marianne Williamson. Anyone who has met Williamson in person knows that she is not a happy-happy-joy-joy style spiritual leader; in fact, she's rather intense. She gets angry. During this talk, Williamson said that she was far from a finished product; but that the tools she uses, teaches, and delivers from her own experience (from various religious traditions and A Course in Miracles) have helped; she is better than she used to be. I know this to be true of me too, so I loved that she stood there in front of hundreds of people who paid to see her, and met us where we could really hear her, not separate from or above the rest of us. From where I sat, this didn't diminish the value of what she had come to teach us at all.
Years ago at a New Year's retreat where I was serving on the staff (and not doing a stellar job of it, in my opinion), I bumped into my mentor, Byron Katie. She said something complimentary to me and immediately, and with great embarrassment, I burst into great, sobbing, snotty tears. As she held me and smoothed my hair, she asked me, "What's the belief?" "I don't want you or anyone else to see that I'm not 'on it,'" I confessed. "No," she said, "You don't want you to see that you're not 'on it,' and that's where you mess yourself up." (She used a stronger word than "mess.") Clearly she wasn't at all bothered by my being off my game. Why was I? It felt so good not to have to hide my off-ness any longer, I probably did a better job. I know I found it easier to ask others for help.
Here's another reason why I'm a big fan of this kind of self-disclosure: if it's not okay for me to have days like this, then it's not okay for others to have them, and that would be unrealistic, unkind, and dishonest because everybody in the world, without exception, whether they admit it or not, has them.
I want you to be what you are, and not feel you have to push yourself to be what you are not; not for your sake, not for mine, not for the sake of the world. If I can extend that courtesy to myself, I have half a chance of extending it to my friends, mentors, mentees, clients and colleagues.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
SOUL SURGERY: exercises in inquiry with Carol L. Skolnick, Coach/Facilitator ClearLifeSolutions.com
September 15, 2009
September 3, 2009
Ask a Facilitator: Turning Around "Shoulds"
Q: I have been feeling depressed for some time now, and the fear of fear, anxiety and depression has come up for me. As I question thoughts like "I shouldn't be anxious," "I shouldn't be fearful," or "People shouldn't be fearful," I find it hard to find any turnarounds that are meaningful, and The Work doesn't seem to help here. Do you have any suggestions?
A: "Shoulds" and "shouldn'ts" can be tricky to turn around because sometimes we're approaching them with a motive to feel better or to talk ourselves into our out of something. When we do The Work with that kind of agenda, the turnarounds don't convince us; you may as well do affirmations and save yourself the trouble of The Work. (Just kidding.)
So let's start from the beginning, before the turnarounds, because that's where the majority of self-revelations appear; in your answers to the four questions. Without this, your turnarounds can never be meaningful. Turnarounds expand upon the self-awareness you have developed through the education of the four questions; I find they are not particularly useful in and of themselves.
How do you react, how do you live your life, when you believe thoughts like "I shouldn't be fearful," and the reality is, you are fearful? Isn't it something like compounding pain with suffering, plus interest? Does believing the thought "I shouldn't be fearful" lessen your fear, or result in more depression? I've noticed the "shoulds" and "shouldn'ts" in my life result in self-flagellation, which is depressing.
Next, imagine how you would treat yourself differently if you didn't believe the thought, "I shouldn't be fearful." With more compassion perhaps? What else? I don't want to feed you the answers, because my answers can't be meaningful to you. Sit as in meditation and find your own.
Once you have done this, you are ready for the turnarounds, the opposites, the alternatives to what you have been believing.
"I shouldn't be fearful," turned around to the opposite is, "I should be fearful." That's what is; you should be fearful when you are. How can it be otherwise? It does no good to try and change it. You feel the way you feel. I would honor that.
To find specific examples of how you should be fearful, when indeed you are, takes a lot of willingness and an open mind. And this is not to cancel out your original statement; it's simply to see what other options you have, to expand your awareness. For instance, I can find "I should be fearful when I'm believing (uninvestigated) frightening thoughts, such as 'I'm not going to be okay.'" I would have to be fearful if I believe in terrible outcomes. "I should be fearful" because I haven't yet learned how not to be; my fearfulness may have been a survival mechanism in the past.
The longer you sit with "tough" turnarounds, the more examples of opposites you'll find. Some turnarounds will feel truer than others. Freedom lies in being able to recognize that nothing is 100% black or white...that there are always alternatives to believing or attaching to stressful thoughts in what I like to call the parallel universe of peace.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
A: "Shoulds" and "shouldn'ts" can be tricky to turn around because sometimes we're approaching them with a motive to feel better or to talk ourselves into our out of something. When we do The Work with that kind of agenda, the turnarounds don't convince us; you may as well do affirmations and save yourself the trouble of The Work. (Just kidding.)
So let's start from the beginning, before the turnarounds, because that's where the majority of self-revelations appear; in your answers to the four questions. Without this, your turnarounds can never be meaningful. Turnarounds expand upon the self-awareness you have developed through the education of the four questions; I find they are not particularly useful in and of themselves.
How do you react, how do you live your life, when you believe thoughts like "I shouldn't be fearful," and the reality is, you are fearful? Isn't it something like compounding pain with suffering, plus interest? Does believing the thought "I shouldn't be fearful" lessen your fear, or result in more depression? I've noticed the "shoulds" and "shouldn'ts" in my life result in self-flagellation, which is depressing.
Next, imagine how you would treat yourself differently if you didn't believe the thought, "I shouldn't be fearful." With more compassion perhaps? What else? I don't want to feed you the answers, because my answers can't be meaningful to you. Sit as in meditation and find your own.
Once you have done this, you are ready for the turnarounds, the opposites, the alternatives to what you have been believing.
"I shouldn't be fearful," turned around to the opposite is, "I should be fearful." That's what is; you should be fearful when you are. How can it be otherwise? It does no good to try and change it. You feel the way you feel. I would honor that.
To find specific examples of how you should be fearful, when indeed you are, takes a lot of willingness and an open mind. And this is not to cancel out your original statement; it's simply to see what other options you have, to expand your awareness. For instance, I can find "I should be fearful when I'm believing (uninvestigated) frightening thoughts, such as 'I'm not going to be okay.'" I would have to be fearful if I believe in terrible outcomes. "I should be fearful" because I haven't yet learned how not to be; my fearfulness may have been a survival mechanism in the past.
The longer you sit with "tough" turnarounds, the more examples of opposites you'll find. Some turnarounds will feel truer than others. Freedom lies in being able to recognize that nothing is 100% black or white...that there are always alternatives to believing or attaching to stressful thoughts in what I like to call the parallel universe of peace.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
August 13, 2009
The Julia In Our Heads
In case you've been living in a cave recently, let me bring you up to date on the bestselling book that inspired the current hit movie, Julie & Julia. It's the true story of Julie Powell, a woman who, on the cusp of 30, found something to take her mind off of her unsatisfying professional life and fast-ticking biological clock: she decided to prepare all 524 recipes in Volume 1 of renowned cooking teacher/TV chef Julia Child's Mastering the Art of French Cooking in just one year, and to blog about it. She called this the Julie/Julia Project (you can still find the archives online, but I recommend you read the book instead).
In the process, Julie became very close to Julia Child, if only in her mind; in fact the two women never met, never even spoke on the telephone, and had but one brief correspondence.
My favorite part of Julie & Julia occurs when she discovers that her 91-year-old "guru"—whom she all but credits with saving her life—might have had feet of clay—or at the very least, was not exactly the person Julie thought she was. Yet, Julie comes to see that her relationship with the Julia in her head—the supportive teacher-narrator of Mastering the Art of French Cooking and the personable, bizarrely-voiced, often humorous Julia-persona on TV's "The French Chef," plus Julie's mental projection/construct that she calls "Julia"—has been the real relationship, the one that matters, the only place where the two women could have possibly met as friends.
Reading Julie & Julia, I recognized a classic thread that perhaps began with the story of the tribal boy Eklavya in the Hindu epic Mahabharata. Eklavya, who desires to study archery, is rejected by the master teacher Dronacharya due to Eklavya's low caste. Undaunted, the boy makes a clay statue of the master and teaches himself to shoot in its presence, imagining he has the teacher's guidance and blessings. Eventually, Eklavya comes to achieve a level of skill unsurpassed by Drona's star pupil, Arjuna.
However, the story of Eklavya and Drona ends badly, as the master somehow views this as theft of services and demands Eklavya give him his right thumb as gurudakshina (the teacher's fee). Eklavya, revering the teacher nonetheless, severs his thumb and renders himself unable ever to draw a bow again.
Julie, thankfully, does no such ridiculous thing; in fact, buoyed by and grateful for what she has learned/self-taught in the presence of the equivalent of a clay idol, she even makes a symbolic pilgrimage to the Julia Child kitchen at the Smithsonian. And, of course, she appears on TV, writes an irresistible and very successful book which gets made into a movie, and gets to quit her thankless job and move to a better apartment.
The Julie in my head instructs me so well on how to treat the Julias in my head. There have been more than a few people in my life who have been major influences, but with whom I have become disenchanted or who became disenchanted with me: friends, teachers, students, clients, employers, romantic partners, not to mention those people I've liked and admired who have not liked or admired me in return. Truth be told, I haven't forgiven them all. I'm frankly amazed by some of the ones I have been able to forgive and the gratitude I feel to them in spite of everything that went down between us, or that I imagined went down. And some who I imagined would never speak to me again made peace with the me in their heads and we're friends again.
I've been the ungrateful daughter/student/employee, the facilitator who didn't do a damn thing of value for you, the teacher who didn't care about you, the girlfriend who wasn't the person you thought I was, the fair-weather friend who didn't follow through on my promise. I've also been the one you think so highly of that it blows my mind and makes me wonder what drugs you're on.
For better or worse, the primary relationship between two people, whether it's a fan and a remote rock star, or two longtime companions who have shared a lifetime together, seems to be the relationship in the head. We can't control people, we can't make them love us, we can't take back what happened; so we may as well make it right with the one in our head. That's what so much of my self-inquiry has been about.
So, thank you, former spiritual teachers; because of my story of you, I learned how to feel devotion and reverence, how to listen and learn. Thank you, former lovers: because you were attracted to me until you weren't any longer, I learned to see myself as a beautiful, desirable woman. And thank you, those from whom I sought love, approval and appreciation. Thank you for giving it to me when you did, for I must have needed it. Thank you for not giving it to me when you didn't, because that left me with my one and only, the one who will stand with me till death do us part.
I'm happy for Julie that she didn't dismiss an amazing year of her life, put her life on hold, or discount and dishonor a beneficial relationship, just because someone withheld the approval she didn't have and never needed in the first place. I aspire to it.
"When I walk into a room, I know that everyone in it loves me.
I just don't expect them to realize it yet." —Byron Katie
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
August 3, 2009
Belieftown's Greatest Hits
I was just telling some friends that the other night while watching a PBS disco special (that is not a typo, my friends), I found myself singing along to all of the dance hits from the '70s, including the ones that I never even liked to begin with. I chalk it up to loving the familiar.
That's okay if it's just some silly old tunes. It's not quite as much fun when I start singing, once again, my old songs of sorrow and complaint. Sure, there was a time that I loved those old ditties, but today they are taking up too much shelf space.
And yet, don't you find yourself humming those greatest hits to yourself from time to time? Or singing them to others, much to their chagrin?
Who could forget (and who wouldn't want to?) these old-time extravaganzas and their catchy tunes that by now have become annoying earworms...
Blame—the rock opera best remembered for such toe-tapping favorites as "You Don't Know How to Love Me" and, of course, the title track. ("Blame! It's gonna live forever, baby remember your shame.")
Single! The Musical—featuring the chartbusters "If I Were a Size Six" and "Match.com, Match.com."
For opera fans, there's Boris Notgoodenough. Who could forget Pavarotti's rendition of "Messin' Dharma"?
In order to shake an earworm, they say you have to think of something else, but then run the risk of the replacement being an earworm as well. The fact of the matter is, everything repeated over and over becomes annoying.
So my recommendation is to deconstruct the same old songs. "He doesn't love me; is that true?" "If I were a size size I'd be married by now; how do I treat myself when I believe that thought?" "Who would I be without the belief, 'I'm not good enough'?"
Then you'll have more time and energy for going through those dusty old books on the shelf that are so hard to give away (because no one else wants them either) and that you find yourself flipping through again and again, including Gullible's Travels and Me: The Unauthorized Autobiography.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
That's okay if it's just some silly old tunes. It's not quite as much fun when I start singing, once again, my old songs of sorrow and complaint. Sure, there was a time that I loved those old ditties, but today they are taking up too much shelf space.
And yet, don't you find yourself humming those greatest hits to yourself from time to time? Or singing them to others, much to their chagrin?
Who could forget (and who wouldn't want to?) these old-time extravaganzas and their catchy tunes that by now have become annoying earworms...
Blame—the rock opera best remembered for such toe-tapping favorites as "You Don't Know How to Love Me" and, of course, the title track. ("Blame! It's gonna live forever, baby remember your shame.")
Single! The Musical—featuring the chartbusters "If I Were a Size Six" and "Match.com, Match.com."
For opera fans, there's Boris Notgoodenough. Who could forget Pavarotti's rendition of "Messin' Dharma"?
In order to shake an earworm, they say you have to think of something else, but then run the risk of the replacement being an earworm as well. The fact of the matter is, everything repeated over and over becomes annoying.
So my recommendation is to deconstruct the same old songs. "He doesn't love me; is that true?" "If I were a size size I'd be married by now; how do I treat myself when I believe that thought?" "Who would I be without the belief, 'I'm not good enough'?"
Then you'll have more time and energy for going through those dusty old books on the shelf that are so hard to give away (because no one else wants them either) and that you find yourself flipping through again and again, including Gullible's Travels and Me: The Unauthorized Autobiography.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
July 8, 2009
Ask a Facilitator: Affirmations...Yes, or No?
Q: I do The Work and I also practice daily positive affirmations because I really believe in their power to attract good things to life; for example, "I am perfect just the way I am," "I am an-all loving being," "I have infinite patience and love for others." However, the turnaround portion of The Work seems to be contrary to these positive affirmations, since when I turn a judgment around to myself, I have to think that I am not doing something right, that I have the defects and bad character traits that I see in others. Is there a way to reconcile doing The Work with my practice of positive affirmations?
A: Affirmations work only if you believe them, and they don't work if you don't believe them. You can't make yourself believe you are all loving or patient if you have doubts about your loving, patient nature. Conversely, you can't make yourself believe you are unloving and impatient if you are indeed loving and patient at least some of the time. To do so produces stress.
Turnarounds can be positive too: "I am impatient" turns around to "I am patient." But without the education of the four questions, a positive turnaround is meaningless. Repeating affirmations that you don't believe will lead to disconnection, just as continually telling yourself you're not good enough doesn't give you the tools to see yourself as good enough.
I don't do The Work to be "positive" (or negative); I do it in order to reduce stress and understand and welcome all thoughts as friends. "I am impatient." Have I ever been impatient in my life? I can find it, so I can see why someone else might see me that way and call me on it. I am also patient; I have ample evidence for that as well. You would have to embody the traits you criticize in others at least in part, otherwise you wouldn't recognize them. The same is true for admirable traits. You are seeing your own reflection, always.
The Work is a way to identify and question stressful thoughts, period. We don't bother with the happy ones; we get to keep those! To put the stressful mind on paper and examine how we live life out of our beliefs is to see what else is available to us.
At first, I came to The Work in order to feel better, but that is doing inquiry with a motive to change myself or to change outer circumstances. When I do The Work for the love of truth, I notice I don't have to force affirmations on myself; my life becomes an affirmation.
And by all means, if affirmations or any other practices are working for you, don't give them up! I haven't yet seen a practice that couldn't be done in conjunction with The Work...except perhaps the practice of self-hatred.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
A: Affirmations work only if you believe them, and they don't work if you don't believe them. You can't make yourself believe you are all loving or patient if you have doubts about your loving, patient nature. Conversely, you can't make yourself believe you are unloving and impatient if you are indeed loving and patient at least some of the time. To do so produces stress.
Turnarounds can be positive too: "I am impatient" turns around to "I am patient." But without the education of the four questions, a positive turnaround is meaningless. Repeating affirmations that you don't believe will lead to disconnection, just as continually telling yourself you're not good enough doesn't give you the tools to see yourself as good enough.
I don't do The Work to be "positive" (or negative); I do it in order to reduce stress and understand and welcome all thoughts as friends. "I am impatient." Have I ever been impatient in my life? I can find it, so I can see why someone else might see me that way and call me on it. I am also patient; I have ample evidence for that as well. You would have to embody the traits you criticize in others at least in part, otherwise you wouldn't recognize them. The same is true for admirable traits. You are seeing your own reflection, always.
The Work is a way to identify and question stressful thoughts, period. We don't bother with the happy ones; we get to keep those! To put the stressful mind on paper and examine how we live life out of our beliefs is to see what else is available to us.
At first, I came to The Work in order to feel better, but that is doing inquiry with a motive to change myself or to change outer circumstances. When I do The Work for the love of truth, I notice I don't have to force affirmations on myself; my life becomes an affirmation.
And by all means, if affirmations or any other practices are working for you, don't give them up! I haven't yet seen a practice that couldn't be done in conjunction with The Work...except perhaps the practice of self-hatred.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
July 1, 2009
A Subtle Difference and Sameness
Existentialist:
"There's nobody. There's nothing."
Nondualist:
"There's nobody! There's nothing!"
It's just a matter of inflection.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
"There's nobody. There's nothing."Nondualist:
"There's nobody! There's nothing!"It's just a matter of inflection.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
June 28, 2009
The (Wo)Man In the Mirror: Thanks, Michael
And no message could have been any clearer
If you wanna make the world a better place
Take a look at yourself and then make a change
June 2, 2009
10 Ways We Make The Work into Too Much Work
Byron Katie is fond of saying, "I don't call it The Work for nothing," meaning The Work works best when we put in some effort to see things differently...and if we are willing to put aside what's comfortable in place of what's true.
This doesn't mean doing The Work is hard to do. If you're finding The Work to be too much work, you may be doing one or more things on this list.
1. Trying to work with complex, run-on sentences. "Daniel should pay attention to me so that I can make him understand why I am so upset with him and what he can do to change." This sentence requires a meat cleaver! "Daniel should pay attention to me" is enough to work on all by itself. Other thoughts that can be worked on separately are "I need to make Daniel understand." "Daniel should understand why I'm upset with him." "I want Daniel to change." "I am upset with Daniel." "Daniel can change."
If you fill out your Judge-Your-Neighbor Worksheet in short, simple sentences, you'll find it's much easier to identify and work with your thoughts. A little editing in the beginning, a little less writing, can make for less work—and more meaningful Work—in the long run.
2. Writing a Judge-Your-Neighbor Worksheet about yourself. Many people come to The Work saying, "I know I'm my own problem." Is it true that you know that? As Katie says, when you're new to The Work, it's better to point your judgments outwards. We've been beating ourselves up, judging ourselves, making ourselves wrong all of our lives. It hasn't changed us yet; it can, in fact be brutal. As you will see, some of the turnarounds on any worksheet will be "I" thoughts and you can sit with these later. Instead of "I should have more self-control," why not start with someone else about whom you have had the same thought? You'll see how you treat them, and in doing so, how you treat yourself when you believe that thought about yourself.
3. Spinning, as in not taking your original belief all the way through inquiry in favor of switching to another. "Mary is needy. How do I react when I believe that thought? I avoid her, I don't want to be around her. I don't want to be around her, is that true?" You leave the inquiry when you switch beliefs this way; the original belief has not been fully understood. You lose your train of thought and you may find yourself back-tracking. That makes a simple process more complicated.
4. Spinning a turnaround. This takes you into entirely different territory. "Mary is needy, turned around: Mary is not needy; I am needy." These are good turnarounds. "I am not needy" is a spin, not an opposite but an affirmation that has nothing to do with your original work. It may make you feel better, but it won't do the work of investigation for you and you may find yourself having no resolution.
5. Yeah-butting. You leave inquiry when you stop answering the questions. "Yeah, but..." is a defense, an excuse, a block to learning the truth. It throws away any prior work you've done on the belief and you end up having to start over.
6. Changing your belief statement after a few minutes. "I need Daniel to change. Is it true? Yes. Can I absolutely know it's true? Yes. How do I react when I believe that thought? I get frustrated...I lean on him...I nag him...but you know, that's not really the issue, it's more like, I need Daniel to be more flexible...I want to work on that instead." Well, if you want him to be more flexible, it does mean you would like something to change. If you stick with your original statement, you may find what you were looking for when you began waffling. You can always go back to the other belief statement later, if you still believe it.
7. "Shoulding on yourself." "I should exercise" could be a covert way of trying to make yourself exercise, or excuse yourself from exercising. This work is about noticing how you live your life when you believe a thought that isn't true for you; it's not meant to be a motivator or to shame you into doing some or into stopping doing something. ("I shouldn't smoke.") So just notice your motives when you question "I should" thoughts. It may be easier to work on underlying beliefs here, such s "If I don't stop smoking, it means I'm weak" or "If I don't exercise, it means I'll die too young, and that means my children will be fatherless, and that means..." What is the core issue? The direct route would be to work on that one.
8. Using turnarounds as a medieval torture device. "Mary is needy. Turnaround: I am needy - beat, beat, beat. Oh yes, I am, I'm a terrible person, no wonder no one wants me around! I have to stop being so needy!" Oh gosh, don't go there! Simply sit with "I am needy." Is it sometimes true? Have you ever been, needy, especially with Mary (needing her to stop being needy)? This is just an opportunity to notice, no shoulds, no judgments involved. The Work is about self-awareness...which is a gentle noticing and if indicated, a gentle correction. Most of all, with turnarounds like these, we see that we are not too different from the one we've been putting on the torture rack and we can let both them and ourselves off the hook. Whew!
9. Long explanations. Notice when you start using "because" when answering a question: "How do I react when I believe the thought, 'My partner lies'? I feel angry, because it reminds me of when I was a little girl, and my father used to lie about where he was, when we knew he was at the bar drinking anyway." Not only is this justification, it's story-telling, and it takes you out of inquiry. Then you get lost and you have to reel yourself back in. More work than needed.
10. Writing your worksheet in the past tense. It's not wrong or bad to write a worksheet in the past tense; however it can leave you feeling disconnected from the uncomfortable feeling that led you to write the worksheet in the first place. There will be less of a tendency to say, "Well, it was such a long time ago, I don't remember much about it," or "It's really irrelevant, it's over." Try writing in the present. Instead of "My father shouldn't have lied," write, "My father shouldn't lie." Even if the incident happened 40 years ago, writing your statements in the present puts you right back in the place where you first believed the thought. The experience will be more immediate and relevant to you and you won't have to dig so deeply to find your answers.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
ADDENDUM: My friend Nicole writes, "Thinking you have to answer all the subquestions on the blue sheet [facilitation guide] each time you do inquiry (exhausting!)." Indeed. If you have any others, I'll post them here.
This doesn't mean doing The Work is hard to do. If you're finding The Work to be too much work, you may be doing one or more things on this list.
1. Trying to work with complex, run-on sentences. "Daniel should pay attention to me so that I can make him understand why I am so upset with him and what he can do to change." This sentence requires a meat cleaver! "Daniel should pay attention to me" is enough to work on all by itself. Other thoughts that can be worked on separately are "I need to make Daniel understand." "Daniel should understand why I'm upset with him." "I want Daniel to change." "I am upset with Daniel." "Daniel can change."
If you fill out your Judge-Your-Neighbor Worksheet in short, simple sentences, you'll find it's much easier to identify and work with your thoughts. A little editing in the beginning, a little less writing, can make for less work—and more meaningful Work—in the long run.
2. Writing a Judge-Your-Neighbor Worksheet about yourself. Many people come to The Work saying, "I know I'm my own problem." Is it true that you know that? As Katie says, when you're new to The Work, it's better to point your judgments outwards. We've been beating ourselves up, judging ourselves, making ourselves wrong all of our lives. It hasn't changed us yet; it can, in fact be brutal. As you will see, some of the turnarounds on any worksheet will be "I" thoughts and you can sit with these later. Instead of "I should have more self-control," why not start with someone else about whom you have had the same thought? You'll see how you treat them, and in doing so, how you treat yourself when you believe that thought about yourself.
3. Spinning, as in not taking your original belief all the way through inquiry in favor of switching to another. "Mary is needy. How do I react when I believe that thought? I avoid her, I don't want to be around her. I don't want to be around her, is that true?" You leave the inquiry when you switch beliefs this way; the original belief has not been fully understood. You lose your train of thought and you may find yourself back-tracking. That makes a simple process more complicated.
4. Spinning a turnaround. This takes you into entirely different territory. "Mary is needy, turned around: Mary is not needy; I am needy." These are good turnarounds. "I am not needy" is a spin, not an opposite but an affirmation that has nothing to do with your original work. It may make you feel better, but it won't do the work of investigation for you and you may find yourself having no resolution.
5. Yeah-butting. You leave inquiry when you stop answering the questions. "Yeah, but..." is a defense, an excuse, a block to learning the truth. It throws away any prior work you've done on the belief and you end up having to start over.
6. Changing your belief statement after a few minutes. "I need Daniel to change. Is it true? Yes. Can I absolutely know it's true? Yes. How do I react when I believe that thought? I get frustrated...I lean on him...I nag him...but you know, that's not really the issue, it's more like, I need Daniel to be more flexible...I want to work on that instead." Well, if you want him to be more flexible, it does mean you would like something to change. If you stick with your original statement, you may find what you were looking for when you began waffling. You can always go back to the other belief statement later, if you still believe it.
7. "Shoulding on yourself." "I should exercise" could be a covert way of trying to make yourself exercise, or excuse yourself from exercising. This work is about noticing how you live your life when you believe a thought that isn't true for you; it's not meant to be a motivator or to shame you into doing some or into stopping doing something. ("I shouldn't smoke.") So just notice your motives when you question "I should" thoughts. It may be easier to work on underlying beliefs here, such s "If I don't stop smoking, it means I'm weak" or "If I don't exercise, it means I'll die too young, and that means my children will be fatherless, and that means..." What is the core issue? The direct route would be to work on that one.
8. Using turnarounds as a medieval torture device. "Mary is needy. Turnaround: I am needy - beat, beat, beat. Oh yes, I am, I'm a terrible person, no wonder no one wants me around! I have to stop being so needy!" Oh gosh, don't go there! Simply sit with "I am needy." Is it sometimes true? Have you ever been, needy, especially with Mary (needing her to stop being needy)? This is just an opportunity to notice, no shoulds, no judgments involved. The Work is about self-awareness...which is a gentle noticing and if indicated, a gentle correction. Most of all, with turnarounds like these, we see that we are not too different from the one we've been putting on the torture rack and we can let both them and ourselves off the hook. Whew!
9. Long explanations. Notice when you start using "because" when answering a question: "How do I react when I believe the thought, 'My partner lies'? I feel angry, because it reminds me of when I was a little girl, and my father used to lie about where he was, when we knew he was at the bar drinking anyway." Not only is this justification, it's story-telling, and it takes you out of inquiry. Then you get lost and you have to reel yourself back in. More work than needed.
10. Writing your worksheet in the past tense. It's not wrong or bad to write a worksheet in the past tense; however it can leave you feeling disconnected from the uncomfortable feeling that led you to write the worksheet in the first place. There will be less of a tendency to say, "Well, it was such a long time ago, I don't remember much about it," or "It's really irrelevant, it's over." Try writing in the present. Instead of "My father shouldn't have lied," write, "My father shouldn't lie." Even if the incident happened 40 years ago, writing your statements in the present puts you right back in the place where you first believed the thought. The experience will be more immediate and relevant to you and you won't have to dig so deeply to find your answers.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
ADDENDUM: My friend Nicole writes, "Thinking you have to answer all the subquestions on the blue sheet [facilitation guide] each time you do inquiry (exhausting!)." Indeed. If you have any others, I'll post them here.
May 26, 2009
Ask a Facilitator: I Shouldn't be Thinking These Thoughts!
Q: I love using The Work of Byron Katie. However, when I go into question three—"How do you react when you believe this thought?"—the array of underlying beliefs I carry shocks me and I find it hard not to beat myself up for thinking them. I can pull myself back to continue the worksheet, but I experience a lot of shame, despair and overwhelm about the thoughts I have uncovered. I'm finding it difficult to see that these are all "just" thoughts and not me.
A: I really understand; I used to react that way also and I, too had to learn how to be a gentle observer of my thoughts rather than to identify with them. As you continue to unravel your stressful thoughts through The Work, you'll see that all you are doing is noticing what happens when you attach to beliefs that don't serve you. It's what we all do, so innocently.
At first it can be quite upsetting to see what's been festering under the surface; even now after doing The Work for so many years, uncovering those thoughts can move me to tears. However, once you these thoughts see the light of day, they can be met with understanding and you may find you are left lighter and freer.
I hope you will continue to take the "juiciest" of these "nasty" beliefs to inquiry. They have come to your awareness so that you can come home to yourself. (I would also question this belief: You shouldn't be having thoughts like these; is that true?)
If your stories are very tenacious and painful, you might find it useful to work with a Certified Facilitator. You can also call the Hotline free of charge, where facilitators in training will walk you through any thought that is troubling to you.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
May 19, 2009
Addictions and Subtractions
I found and liked this definition of addiction on a coaching website:
"...behavior that does not create lasting emotional satisfaction. From this broad perspective, addictive behavior can be seen as habitual ways of thinking and acting that limit our possibilities and satisfaction in life--including drug use, eating, relationships, money, sex, entertainment, power, and work."
What a wonderful opening for questioning. "Drug use (drinking, power etc.) expands my possibilities." "Overeating (sex, money) satisfies me."
Seeing as I have been overindulging in my self-limiting behavior of choice lately, I took the opportunity to inquire into one of my may justifications for doing so.
I invite you to take the trip with me. What habitual, fleetingly satisfying behavior backfires or ends up being too costly for you to continue....and how would you answer these questions? Who would you be if you showed up in your life without your addiction?
"Overeating satisfies me."
Is it true?
No (not in any lasting way).
How do I react when I believe this thought? What happens?
I use food (especially foods that are better for me to have in moderation, very limited amounts, or not at all) to distract myself from other feelings or from my "to do" list, to self-medicate, entertain myself when bored, to keep others company when they're eating things I know not to eat and in amounts that I know not to eat.
I get upset when people question what I eat; then justify or tell them to butt out. I get spiritual or existential about the body (it's not who we are, we all have to die of something, etc.).
I substitute food for whatever is lacking in my life at the time: employment, sex, attention, busy-ness.
I get overly interested in food and eating to the exclusion of other things that could be equally if not more satisfying (long walks, creative writing, inquiry).
I justify spending large amounts of money on special ingredients where others would do and fit better in my budget. (Does someone with $1550 rent who rarely pulls in more than $1000 a month income need to buy a $10 per 2-ounce jar of salmon caviar on a regular basis?)
I make eating about taste sensations, fullness sensations, fun, socializing, guilty pleasure, etc. rather than about fueling the body. I don't take time to notice and appreciate my food, especially when I'm "limiting" myself to "healthy" eating.
I am greedy, needy and scared. I get anxious when I think I won't get enough of something.
I seek collaboration and affirmation from fellow big eaters. I prefer to dine with people who indulge in food--especially the ones who eat more than I do, and especially specially specially those who eat a lot and aren't overweight--so that I can continue to justify my actions to myself.
This belief started in early childhood when I always wanted a second cookie or a larger helping of a food I liked, especially if my mother said "no." It became a game, a strategy and a battle of wills to get what I wanted and I did not feel satisfied and didn't give up until I did. (Sometimes I'd just sneak the extra cookie.)
Alternately I have used dieting as a way to punish myself, to give myself no undeserved satisfaction.
Holding this belief "Overeating satisfies me" costs me health, peace of mind, money, integrity, individuality...and I could go on.
Who would I be without this thought?
As I certainly have been without this thought, as recently as last night, I can speak from experience: I would be most satisfied and happy with a wonderfully fresh California-grown salad in a reasonable amount.
I would eat only when I am hungry and in the amount I really want...with common sense, weighing the pros and cons of doing it differently and being very clear about what I want to eat - no shoulds, no shouldn'ts.
I would experience no guilt over an occasional slice of (fattening, allergenic) pizza. No need for a second slice of said pizza. Enjoying the hell out of every bite of it. Not beating myself if I go for that second slice as long as I'm conscious about my decision and loving it as equally as not eating it.
I'd ask myself what it is I really want and need in the moment I think I want to (over)eat. If it's really a big slushy umbrella drink at poolside that I want, that's fine...and maybe I want something else instead, such as the feeling of belonging (in which case, start belonging, Carol!). It's the way I stopped napping in the middle of the day. (I discovered years ago that regular midday napping would turn into two hours and made me feel sluggish for the rest of the day, so I found other things that were both restful and satisfying and better for me.)
I would stop to be present with my food, my body, my life...tapping into natural satisfaction...giving myself what I want from that extra food.
I might leave food over. (Gasp!)
Turn the thought around:
To the opposite: "Overeating doesn't satisfy me." Just as true. Examples:
1. Never for more than a few minutes.
2. It doesn't satisfy me that I've re-gained weight that I worked hard to lose.
3. It's often really uncomfortable in terms of feeling stuffed, logy, sugar-buzzed out, etc.
To "my thinking": "Overthinking satisfies me."
Not true, but that's what's going on when I think I want more of something. I think, "If I eat this, I will be happy, satisfied, mollified." When this doesn't work, then the thinking has to stuff itself with something else, whether it's food or another addictive item/action/thought.
To the opposite (another angle): "Overeating dissatisfies me."
Truest.
1. I don't like myself when I overeat (and that's another worksheet).
2. I am dissatisfied with the resulting indigestion, fatigue or weight gain.
3. Going against my better judgment cancels out any satisfaction I might temporarily experience at the all-you-can-eat buffet.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
"...behavior that does not create lasting emotional satisfaction. From this broad perspective, addictive behavior can be seen as habitual ways of thinking and acting that limit our possibilities and satisfaction in life--including drug use, eating, relationships, money, sex, entertainment, power, and work."
What a wonderful opening for questioning. "Drug use (drinking, power etc.) expands my possibilities." "Overeating (sex, money) satisfies me."
Seeing as I have been overindulging in my self-limiting behavior of choice lately, I took the opportunity to inquire into one of my may justifications for doing so.
I invite you to take the trip with me. What habitual, fleetingly satisfying behavior backfires or ends up being too costly for you to continue....and how would you answer these questions? Who would you be if you showed up in your life without your addiction?
"Overeating satisfies me."
Is it true?
No (not in any lasting way).
How do I react when I believe this thought? What happens?
I use food (especially foods that are better for me to have in moderation, very limited amounts, or not at all) to distract myself from other feelings or from my "to do" list, to self-medicate, entertain myself when bored, to keep others company when they're eating things I know not to eat and in amounts that I know not to eat.
I get upset when people question what I eat; then justify or tell them to butt out. I get spiritual or existential about the body (it's not who we are, we all have to die of something, etc.).
I substitute food for whatever is lacking in my life at the time: employment, sex, attention, busy-ness.
I get overly interested in food and eating to the exclusion of other things that could be equally if not more satisfying (long walks, creative writing, inquiry).
I justify spending large amounts of money on special ingredients where others would do and fit better in my budget. (Does someone with $1550 rent who rarely pulls in more than $1000 a month income need to buy a $10 per 2-ounce jar of salmon caviar on a regular basis?)
I make eating about taste sensations, fullness sensations, fun, socializing, guilty pleasure, etc. rather than about fueling the body. I don't take time to notice and appreciate my food, especially when I'm "limiting" myself to "healthy" eating.
I am greedy, needy and scared. I get anxious when I think I won't get enough of something.
I seek collaboration and affirmation from fellow big eaters. I prefer to dine with people who indulge in food--especially the ones who eat more than I do, and especially specially specially those who eat a lot and aren't overweight--so that I can continue to justify my actions to myself.
This belief started in early childhood when I always wanted a second cookie or a larger helping of a food I liked, especially if my mother said "no." It became a game, a strategy and a battle of wills to get what I wanted and I did not feel satisfied and didn't give up until I did. (Sometimes I'd just sneak the extra cookie.)
Alternately I have used dieting as a way to punish myself, to give myself no undeserved satisfaction.
Holding this belief "Overeating satisfies me" costs me health, peace of mind, money, integrity, individuality...and I could go on.
Who would I be without this thought?
As I certainly have been without this thought, as recently as last night, I can speak from experience: I would be most satisfied and happy with a wonderfully fresh California-grown salad in a reasonable amount.
I would eat only when I am hungry and in the amount I really want...with common sense, weighing the pros and cons of doing it differently and being very clear about what I want to eat - no shoulds, no shouldn'ts.
I would experience no guilt over an occasional slice of (fattening, allergenic) pizza. No need for a second slice of said pizza. Enjoying the hell out of every bite of it. Not beating myself if I go for that second slice as long as I'm conscious about my decision and loving it as equally as not eating it.
I'd ask myself what it is I really want and need in the moment I think I want to (over)eat. If it's really a big slushy umbrella drink at poolside that I want, that's fine...and maybe I want something else instead, such as the feeling of belonging (in which case, start belonging, Carol!). It's the way I stopped napping in the middle of the day. (I discovered years ago that regular midday napping would turn into two hours and made me feel sluggish for the rest of the day, so I found other things that were both restful and satisfying and better for me.)
I would stop to be present with my food, my body, my life...tapping into natural satisfaction...giving myself what I want from that extra food.
I might leave food over. (Gasp!)
Turn the thought around:
To the opposite: "Overeating doesn't satisfy me." Just as true. Examples:
1. Never for more than a few minutes.
2. It doesn't satisfy me that I've re-gained weight that I worked hard to lose.
3. It's often really uncomfortable in terms of feeling stuffed, logy, sugar-buzzed out, etc.
To "my thinking": "Overthinking satisfies me."
Not true, but that's what's going on when I think I want more of something. I think, "If I eat this, I will be happy, satisfied, mollified." When this doesn't work, then the thinking has to stuff itself with something else, whether it's food or another addictive item/action/thought.
To the opposite (another angle): "Overeating dissatisfies me."
Truest.
1. I don't like myself when I overeat (and that's another worksheet).
2. I am dissatisfied with the resulting indigestion, fatigue or weight gain.
3. Going against my better judgment cancels out any satisfaction I might temporarily experience at the all-you-can-eat buffet.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
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