SOUL SURGERY: exercises in inquiry with Carol L. Skolnick, Coach/Facilitator ClearLifeSolutions.com
Showing posts with label Carol Skolnick inquiry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Carol Skolnick inquiry. Show all posts
September 10, 2010
In the Name of The Work, How Do I Abandon The Work?
Byron Katie has said, "If I think you need The Work, I need The Work."
I'll take it one step further: outside of a mutually agreed-upon, facilitator-client relationship, in the moment I invite you to question your thoughts, I have left The Work; it has become something else entirely.
What do I mean by this? Discuss.
I'll take it one step further: outside of a mutually agreed-upon, facilitator-client relationship, in the moment I invite you to question your thoughts, I have left The Work; it has become something else entirely.
What do I mean by this? Discuss.
July 9, 2010
"Dangerous" Turnarounds and the Power of "Sometimes"
Here are some dangerous thoughts; dangerous for us who believe them, because we may stake our very lives on them and create unnecessary stress, suffering and separation.
-I am right.
-My way is the right way.
-I know what's best for you.
When we do The Work on these thoughts we may come upon these turnarounds (among others):
-You are right. (Or) I am wrong.
-My way is the wrong way.
-You know what's best for me.
Notice if you are swapping one funky thought for another! These thoughts, while they could be as true or truer than the original statements, are equally dangerous if we make them into our new religion.
The purpose of inquiry is not to make yourself wrong and another right. It's not to make another into an all-knowing Messiah. Turnarounds need not be sticks with which we beat ourselves, and they're not meant to cancel out our beliefs.
It's important to keep a sense of balance when doing The Work, to remember that the purpose of inquiry is clarity, and the result of turnarounds is balance. One way to do that is to incorporate the word "sometimes" in your turnarounds.
Examine how things can be as true or truer "sometimes."
-(Sometimes) you are right. (Also) I am wrong, sometimes.
-My way is the wrong way, sometimes.
-(Sometimes) you know what's best for me.
When you add "sometimes" to your turnarounds, it may be easier to find specific, genuine (not automatic, not spiritual) examples. For example, "sometimes" you know what's best for me when you have more information than I do. (My chiropractor knows it's not good for me to do certain exercises because he knows the condition of my spine. You know what's best for me, sometimes, when you give me unasked for advice that I don't take because I'm standing on ceremony. Sometimes you know what's best for me when you tell me something I don't want to hear; it brings up all my stuff about you that I haven't brought to inquiry.)
Another way to work with tricky turnarounds: add phrases like "when you do." "If you do." "When I do." "When it is.) "If I do." "In this moment." Examples:
"My way is the wrong way (in this moment when I see myself as knowing what's best for you)."
"You know what's best for me (when you do, such as in when you defy me and I need that "medicine")."
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
-I am right.
-My way is the right way.
-I know what's best for you.
When we do The Work on these thoughts we may come upon these turnarounds (among others):
-You are right. (Or) I am wrong.
-My way is the wrong way.
-You know what's best for me.
Notice if you are swapping one funky thought for another! These thoughts, while they could be as true or truer than the original statements, are equally dangerous if we make them into our new religion.
The purpose of inquiry is not to make yourself wrong and another right. It's not to make another into an all-knowing Messiah. Turnarounds need not be sticks with which we beat ourselves, and they're not meant to cancel out our beliefs.
It's important to keep a sense of balance when doing The Work, to remember that the purpose of inquiry is clarity, and the result of turnarounds is balance. One way to do that is to incorporate the word "sometimes" in your turnarounds.
Examine how things can be as true or truer "sometimes."
-(Sometimes) you are right. (Also) I am wrong, sometimes.
-My way is the wrong way, sometimes.
-(Sometimes) you know what's best for me.
When you add "sometimes" to your turnarounds, it may be easier to find specific, genuine (not automatic, not spiritual) examples. For example, "sometimes" you know what's best for me when you have more information than I do. (My chiropractor knows it's not good for me to do certain exercises because he knows the condition of my spine. You know what's best for me, sometimes, when you give me unasked for advice that I don't take because I'm standing on ceremony. Sometimes you know what's best for me when you tell me something I don't want to hear; it brings up all my stuff about you that I haven't brought to inquiry.)
Another way to work with tricky turnarounds: add phrases like "when you do." "If you do." "When I do." "When it is.) "If I do." "In this moment." Examples:
"My way is the wrong way (in this moment when I see myself as knowing what's best for you)."
"You know what's best for me (when you do, such as in when you defy me and I need that "medicine")."
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
December 10, 2009
What's So Bad About Negativity?
For years I was involved in a group whose adherents felt very threatened by any view of it that seemed to contradict what it was desperately trying to be: the "perfect" spiritual path. Any opinion (and the one who voiced the opinion) that could be perceived as "negative" with regards to the group was immediately attacked and blocked. You see, on a perfect path, the leader and those in high places in the organization could never make a mistake; were always doing what they did for our highest good; had no ulterior motives; were beyond reproach. If, and only if, you were a good devotee, had full faith and did everything you were told, you'd attract the all-knowing, unconditionally loving guru's grace (which, on the perfect path, you already have unless you do something to repel it), you would become self-realized (though as a good devotee, you could never acknowledge this as it smacks of dreaded "ego") and you'd have your heaven on earth.
If you doubted any of this—if, say, you dared to notice any inconsistencies, or refused to go against personal integrity...if you had questions about the teachings...or you had a problem with underage girls being used sexually by older men in power, or with goods being smuggled in and out of other countries...or with celebrities receiving V.I.P. treatment in a place where we were all told we were equal...or with blatant environmental violations, or with the presence of weapons and bodyguards in an ashram, or with "renunciants" sporting designer clothing and precious jewels—then you were deluded, had limited understanding, had fallen off the path, etc.
Oh the horror and danger of exposure to anything but positivity! Most of us suppressed or denied anything within ourselves that could be construed as anything less than 100% cheerful and agreeable. Needless to say, a lot of the devotees were secretly in therapy and taking anti-depressants...and doing more and more spiritual practices in an attempt to override our perceived impurities.
After many years and many experiences of being chastised for being "negative," I realized something: if our organization, its leaders and its teachings were sacred and sacrosanct, what could threaten them? And yet, there was a pervasive atmosphere of self-righteousness and unkindness which, beneath the surface, was pure, unadulterated fear. It seemed that what was going on in the organization was the exact opposite of one of the main teachings: that love was stronger than fear. Where was the love when all was not handled in an open and loving fashion?
Of course, religious organizations are not the only places where the fear of negativity reigns. Ashrams, like everywhere else, are filled with human beings; and human beings who have not questioned their stressful beliefs attack whatever appears to threaten their happiness (as if true happiness could be threatened). So we try to create safe havens for ourselves where sharing is welcome as long as what is shared aligns with the basic premise of our subculture. If anyone might burst our bubbles, indicate we could be wrong, or cost us our precious stuff, we tend not to welcome them with great respect and love. Places of business, family gatherings, groups of friends or neighbors and political parties are just a few of the places where individuals might not be embraced or even acknowledged—in fact might be shunned, shamed and shut up, even if we have to kill them—if they're not seeing our world through our particular brand of rose-colored glasses.
In the best-case scenarios, we close rank, turn off the TV, stop answering the phone, defriend our Facebook buddies who don't see things exactly as we do, avoid people or situations that might result in being "tainted" by another's "negativity." We have to call those people and things toxic, wrong, bad. We double up on our affirmations, surround ourselves in imaginary white light, run away.
That might work as a temporary measure. Until the bogeyman shows up at the door again. Or you think back on the person who threatened the sacrosanct belief that turned out not to be sacrosanct after all (at least not according to you), and you feel the fear all over again in the form of condescension, resentment, anger, sadness, disgust, stress, disturbance of your peace.
If you fear the "negative," it will appear to come a-calling for you in many guises: "negative" people, situations, thoughts. A loving universe won't let you get away with avoidance. It supports you instead.
What's the worst thing that could happen if you welcomed the "negative," sat down to tea with it, questioned it?
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
If you doubted any of this—if, say, you dared to notice any inconsistencies, or refused to go against personal integrity...if you had questions about the teachings...or you had a problem with underage girls being used sexually by older men in power, or with goods being smuggled in and out of other countries...or with celebrities receiving V.I.P. treatment in a place where we were all told we were equal...or with blatant environmental violations, or with the presence of weapons and bodyguards in an ashram, or with "renunciants" sporting designer clothing and precious jewels—then you were deluded, had limited understanding, had fallen off the path, etc.
Oh the horror and danger of exposure to anything but positivity! Most of us suppressed or denied anything within ourselves that could be construed as anything less than 100% cheerful and agreeable. Needless to say, a lot of the devotees were secretly in therapy and taking anti-depressants...and doing more and more spiritual practices in an attempt to override our perceived impurities.
After many years and many experiences of being chastised for being "negative," I realized something: if our organization, its leaders and its teachings were sacred and sacrosanct, what could threaten them? And yet, there was a pervasive atmosphere of self-righteousness and unkindness which, beneath the surface, was pure, unadulterated fear. It seemed that what was going on in the organization was the exact opposite of one of the main teachings: that love was stronger than fear. Where was the love when all was not handled in an open and loving fashion?
Of course, religious organizations are not the only places where the fear of negativity reigns. Ashrams, like everywhere else, are filled with human beings; and human beings who have not questioned their stressful beliefs attack whatever appears to threaten their happiness (as if true happiness could be threatened). So we try to create safe havens for ourselves where sharing is welcome as long as what is shared aligns with the basic premise of our subculture. If anyone might burst our bubbles, indicate we could be wrong, or cost us our precious stuff, we tend not to welcome them with great respect and love. Places of business, family gatherings, groups of friends or neighbors and political parties are just a few of the places where individuals might not be embraced or even acknowledged—in fact might be shunned, shamed and shut up, even if we have to kill them—if they're not seeing our world through our particular brand of rose-colored glasses.
In the best-case scenarios, we close rank, turn off the TV, stop answering the phone, defriend our Facebook buddies who don't see things exactly as we do, avoid people or situations that might result in being "tainted" by another's "negativity." We have to call those people and things toxic, wrong, bad. We double up on our affirmations, surround ourselves in imaginary white light, run away.
That might work as a temporary measure. Until the bogeyman shows up at the door again. Or you think back on the person who threatened the sacrosanct belief that turned out not to be sacrosanct after all (at least not according to you), and you feel the fear all over again in the form of condescension, resentment, anger, sadness, disgust, stress, disturbance of your peace.
If you fear the "negative," it will appear to come a-calling for you in many guises: "negative" people, situations, thoughts. A loving universe won't let you get away with avoidance. It supports you instead.
What's the worst thing that could happen if you welcomed the "negative," sat down to tea with it, questioned it?
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
November 23, 2009
Why Do We Blame Victims?
You hear it in New Age circles, therapy groups and arguments between "friends" (I've done it myself) all the time: "Stop being such a victim!"
This stance smacks of a current, odious trend of faulty reasoning: if something bad happens to you, "you must have attracted it."
Why has victim-bashing become so fashionable? It may be due to a misinterpretation of karma, the spiritual law of cause and effect. A simple example of karma: if you stick your hand in a fire, you're going to have a burnt hand; if you break the law and you go to jail it was your own doing; you may be happier for continually helping little old ladies and blind men to cross the street than if you ignore them or run them over with your car.
The more complicated way to see karma—and a convenient way to blame victims—is to say, "If you fell into the fire and got burned, you probably did something to deserve it." According to this theory, your thinning hair, your low-paying job, your inability to find a life partner, the fact that you were raped, or your having being born with HIV in a rat-infested third-world prison is your fault. You have no right to complain! Find your part in your pain and unhappiness and move on! There's not even a remote possibility that life isn't always a bowl of cherries except for you screwing things up for yourself.
Why are we "spiritual" and "personal growth" types so intensely down on victimhood? Whatever happened to "we're all one and it's all good?"
I think it's because victims make us afraid. We fear them because we fear our own inadequacies.
Let's first look at the dictionary definition of "victim."
VICTIM (Noun)
1. One who is harmed or killed by another: a victim of a mugging.
2. A living creature slain and offered as a sacrifice during a religious rite.
3. One who is harmed by or made to suffer from an act, circumstance, agency, or condition: victims of war.
4. A person who suffers injury, loss, or death as a result of a voluntary undertaking: You are a victim of your own scheming.
5. A person who is tricked, swindled, or taken advantage of: the victim of a cruel hoax.
No one can sanely deny that the blameless kinds of victims exist (definitions 1-3 and 5). What seems to make us so uncomfortable is not victims of disaster (we feel great about people like that because we can play superhero and help them) but the "victim mentality," the assumption that because something terrible has happened, that things will always be terrible. Those who we call victims appear to live out of fearful stories of the past. "I just lost my home to a hurricane" = acceptable victim. "I lost my home to a hurricane, my wife left me, my child is sick, I have no money and I can't get a job" = somewhat more difficult to deal with victim. "I've tried everything and my luck has run out" = VSM (Very Scary Victim).
VSMs bring out many unquestioned assumptions and fears in the suddenly ineffective, thwarted hero, such as:
"They want something from me."
"They are blaming me."
"I have to make it better for them."
"They're not doing enough to better themselves."
"They should be more positive."
"They pretend to be weak."
"They brought it upon themselves."
Barbara Ehrenreich has recently written a book about the cult of positivity. Curmudgeon though she may be, I think there's a lot of truth in what she says. Some of us don't pursue happiness for the joy of it but as a way to avoid pain. There is nothing wrong with that as long as a) you know what you're doing and b) you don't disdain another's (perhaps more realistic) path.
If your life is going great, or if you yourself have overcome great obstacles and found some measure of hope, you may find it hard to believe that this may not be available to everyone. If you feel your own happiness is on shaky ground, it may be especially hard to be around someone who is often fearful, angry or feels hopeless. We don't want them messing with our vibe. We don't want to see that, at any moment, we too could come down from our self-realized high. We don't want to acknowledge any family resemblance.
There's a Byron Katie quote that's become a big favorite among those who who are uncomfortable with others' unhappiness: "Victims are violent people." It's important to understand the spirit of this quote: it was never meant to blame the victim. Katie says this when she sees people lashing out at themselves or others...not to tell them not to do that, but to provide insight that may lead to a lessening of suffering. It's true that we are sometimes violent in the name of "violence was done to me." That's the nature of war.
When we inquire into our stressful thoughts about our own victimhood, we see where we have been overly harsh with our victimizers, with ourselves, with those we perceive are not helping us enough or at all. This is the first step in getting free of suffering. It's not something to prescribe to VSMs and even if they take the suggestion, it doesn't mean that these perceived victims will suddenly rise and shine and prove your spiritual theories of unlimited abundance to be correct, that they'll get happier so that you can feel better around them, or that they'll never ask you for anything that you don't feel like giving them again.
So that leaves us, the ones afraid of the VSMs, to do more of our inner work. Someone should stop being such a victim—why? Can you know what is best for them in the long run? If they did what you wanted, what would you have that you don't have now?
When you complain about someone being a victim, what are you reacting to...the victim, or your fear of being...victimized by them?
Could it be that the Very Scary Victims, like others we fear or resent, are here just for us, to take us ever closer to Home Sweet Home?
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
This stance smacks of a current, odious trend of faulty reasoning: if something bad happens to you, "you must have attracted it."
Why has victim-bashing become so fashionable? It may be due to a misinterpretation of karma, the spiritual law of cause and effect. A simple example of karma: if you stick your hand in a fire, you're going to have a burnt hand; if you break the law and you go to jail it was your own doing; you may be happier for continually helping little old ladies and blind men to cross the street than if you ignore them or run them over with your car.
The more complicated way to see karma—and a convenient way to blame victims—is to say, "If you fell into the fire and got burned, you probably did something to deserve it." According to this theory, your thinning hair, your low-paying job, your inability to find a life partner, the fact that you were raped, or your having being born with HIV in a rat-infested third-world prison is your fault. You have no right to complain! Find your part in your pain and unhappiness and move on! There's not even a remote possibility that life isn't always a bowl of cherries except for you screwing things up for yourself.
Why are we "spiritual" and "personal growth" types so intensely down on victimhood? Whatever happened to "we're all one and it's all good?"
I think it's because victims make us afraid. We fear them because we fear our own inadequacies.
Let's first look at the dictionary definition of "victim."
VICTIM (Noun)
1. One who is harmed or killed by another: a victim of a mugging.
2. A living creature slain and offered as a sacrifice during a religious rite.
3. One who is harmed by or made to suffer from an act, circumstance, agency, or condition: victims of war.
4. A person who suffers injury, loss, or death as a result of a voluntary undertaking: You are a victim of your own scheming.
5. A person who is tricked, swindled, or taken advantage of: the victim of a cruel hoax.
No one can sanely deny that the blameless kinds of victims exist (definitions 1-3 and 5). What seems to make us so uncomfortable is not victims of disaster (we feel great about people like that because we can play superhero and help them) but the "victim mentality," the assumption that because something terrible has happened, that things will always be terrible. Those who we call victims appear to live out of fearful stories of the past. "I just lost my home to a hurricane" = acceptable victim. "I lost my home to a hurricane, my wife left me, my child is sick, I have no money and I can't get a job" = somewhat more difficult to deal with victim. "I've tried everything and my luck has run out" = VSM (Very Scary Victim).
VSMs bring out many unquestioned assumptions and fears in the suddenly ineffective, thwarted hero, such as:
"They want something from me."
"They are blaming me."
"I have to make it better for them."
"They're not doing enough to better themselves."
"They should be more positive."
"They pretend to be weak."
"They brought it upon themselves."
Barbara Ehrenreich has recently written a book about the cult of positivity. Curmudgeon though she may be, I think there's a lot of truth in what she says. Some of us don't pursue happiness for the joy of it but as a way to avoid pain. There is nothing wrong with that as long as a) you know what you're doing and b) you don't disdain another's (perhaps more realistic) path.
If your life is going great, or if you yourself have overcome great obstacles and found some measure of hope, you may find it hard to believe that this may not be available to everyone. If you feel your own happiness is on shaky ground, it may be especially hard to be around someone who is often fearful, angry or feels hopeless. We don't want them messing with our vibe. We don't want to see that, at any moment, we too could come down from our self-realized high. We don't want to acknowledge any family resemblance.
There's a Byron Katie quote that's become a big favorite among those who who are uncomfortable with others' unhappiness: "Victims are violent people." It's important to understand the spirit of this quote: it was never meant to blame the victim. Katie says this when she sees people lashing out at themselves or others...not to tell them not to do that, but to provide insight that may lead to a lessening of suffering. It's true that we are sometimes violent in the name of "violence was done to me." That's the nature of war.
When we inquire into our stressful thoughts about our own victimhood, we see where we have been overly harsh with our victimizers, with ourselves, with those we perceive are not helping us enough or at all. This is the first step in getting free of suffering. It's not something to prescribe to VSMs and even if they take the suggestion, it doesn't mean that these perceived victims will suddenly rise and shine and prove your spiritual theories of unlimited abundance to be correct, that they'll get happier so that you can feel better around them, or that they'll never ask you for anything that you don't feel like giving them again.
So that leaves us, the ones afraid of the VSMs, to do more of our inner work. Someone should stop being such a victim—why? Can you know what is best for them in the long run? If they did what you wanted, what would you have that you don't have now?
When you complain about someone being a victim, what are you reacting to...the victim, or your fear of being...victimized by them?
Could it be that the Very Scary Victims, like others we fear or resent, are here just for us, to take us ever closer to Home Sweet Home?
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
September 23, 2009
Why We Believe, Part 2: When the Payoff Is Hard to Find
When a client (or I myself) can't easily answer the Question Three subquestion, "Why do you hold this belief? How is it serving you?" I use this additional subquestion: "What do you fear would happen if you didn't believe this thought?" This is another way to reveal how the client has been using the stressful thought to attain or to avoid something.
Example: The client' statement is, "My husband shouldn't have affairs." After doing some inquiry, she still believes this is true. I ask her if the thought is peaceful or stressful and she says, "It's a peaceful thought. We took marriage vows. I didn't agree to his being unfaithful."
"Okay," I ask, "And what is the reality of it? Is he having affairs?" "Yes." "Is that peaceful or stressful for you?" "Well, of course that is stressful."
"It is stressful,' I say, "because it is what is true—he is having affairs—and you want that to be different from what it is."
"I can see where fighting with reality is driving me crazy."
"Then why do you hold the belief that he shouldn't have affairs, when he is? How is this thought serving you?" The client says the belief isn't serving her at all, and yet she believes it, and because she relies on her husband for financial support for her and her children, she won't leave him.
Mext, I ask her what she fears would happen if she didn't continue to believe this stressful thought. Her answer: "If I didn't believe that my husband shouldn't have affairs, I'd be a doormat; he'd just cheat on me forever and I would have to pretend it didn't matter."
Usually, the client's answer to this subquestion points to what is already happening, if only in his/her mind. In this case, my client is complaining about a man who is already having sex outside of their marriage. She already feels like a doormat with the thought that he shouldn't, because it flies in the face of what's true: he does. And she is already pretending nothing terrible is happening, so as to spare her children any grief.
So again, I ask, what is it the payoff for holding this belief? She hopes it will help her not to feel like a doormat. She thinks it gives her some control over her husband's behavior. ("He'd cheat on me forever" is another thought that the client could question.)
The client sees how she has been causing herself stress in the name of trying to get peace. It's an honest mistake, one that I daresay most of us make quite often. It doesn't mean she has to condone her husband's behavior, or divorce him, or stay with him. This is just a window on her inner world.
What followed was that the client realized she didn't really care that her husband had sex with other women (in fact she was relieved that he wasn't pressuring her into sex); only that his doing so would mean she might be deprived of his support. "If he cheats on me, he'll leave me, and it means that I will be without support."
Now, seeing that her "shouldn't" thought was a projection into a frightening and non-existent future (could it be that he wouldn't leave her, or that if he did, she would still be supported?), she was able to be, if not sanguine, at least saner about the situation, aware that she had choices and did not have to be a victim of her husband's behavior.
But what if you believe you really do need things to be different? In Part 3 of this series, we'll look at whether our thoughts are really about needs...or if they are merely tantrums.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
Example: The client' statement is, "My husband shouldn't have affairs." After doing some inquiry, she still believes this is true. I ask her if the thought is peaceful or stressful and she says, "It's a peaceful thought. We took marriage vows. I didn't agree to his being unfaithful."
"Okay," I ask, "And what is the reality of it? Is he having affairs?" "Yes." "Is that peaceful or stressful for you?" "Well, of course that is stressful."
"It is stressful,' I say, "because it is what is true—he is having affairs—and you want that to be different from what it is."
"I can see where fighting with reality is driving me crazy."
"Then why do you hold the belief that he shouldn't have affairs, when he is? How is this thought serving you?" The client says the belief isn't serving her at all, and yet she believes it, and because she relies on her husband for financial support for her and her children, she won't leave him.
Mext, I ask her what she fears would happen if she didn't continue to believe this stressful thought. Her answer: "If I didn't believe that my husband shouldn't have affairs, I'd be a doormat; he'd just cheat on me forever and I would have to pretend it didn't matter."
Usually, the client's answer to this subquestion points to what is already happening, if only in his/her mind. In this case, my client is complaining about a man who is already having sex outside of their marriage. She already feels like a doormat with the thought that he shouldn't, because it flies in the face of what's true: he does. And she is already pretending nothing terrible is happening, so as to spare her children any grief.
So again, I ask, what is it the payoff for holding this belief? She hopes it will help her not to feel like a doormat. She thinks it gives her some control over her husband's behavior. ("He'd cheat on me forever" is another thought that the client could question.)
The client sees how she has been causing herself stress in the name of trying to get peace. It's an honest mistake, one that I daresay most of us make quite often. It doesn't mean she has to condone her husband's behavior, or divorce him, or stay with him. This is just a window on her inner world.
What followed was that the client realized she didn't really care that her husband had sex with other women (in fact she was relieved that he wasn't pressuring her into sex); only that his doing so would mean she might be deprived of his support. "If he cheats on me, he'll leave me, and it means that I will be without support."
Now, seeing that her "shouldn't" thought was a projection into a frightening and non-existent future (could it be that he wouldn't leave her, or that if he did, she would still be supported?), she was able to be, if not sanguine, at least saner about the situation, aware that she had choices and did not have to be a victim of her husband's behavior.
But what if you believe you really do need things to be different? In Part 3 of this series, we'll look at whether our thoughts are really about needs...or if they are merely tantrums.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
September 22, 2009
Why We Believe, Part 1: Are You Being Served?
In question number three of The Work of Byron Katie, "How do you react when you believe this thought?" we sometimes use a subquestion, "Why do you hold this (stressful) belief?" In other words, what is the payoff for holding that belief? How is that belief serving you? Is there a peaceful reason to keep this thought, one that does not bring you stress, suffering or pain?
Many times, a client's initial response to this subquestion is, "There is no payoff; it's not serving me." When I hear that, I ask the client to sit with that question for few moments and see if anything comes to them.
In my experience, we never attach to a stressful thought unless we believe it is going to do something for us. That "something" might not be a very good benefit, or it may be outmoded...but there always is some reason why we continue to believe what we believe, even if it feels terrible.
Here are some motives for keeping a stressful thought: (You may have others; if you do, and you'd like to share them, please write your motives in the comments.)
-I get to be right.
-I get to feel superior.
-I get a sense of control (over a person, a situation, the universe).
-I get to blame someone or something else for my unhappiness.
-I don't have to look at my part in the problem.
-I don't have to change.
-I get a sense of security or safety.
-I don't have to take responsibility.
-I get a purpose in life.
-I get to keep a familiar identity, a "me" by which I have always defined myself.
-I get to know something.
-I am protecting myself from future disappointment.
-I get an escape clause; I'm out of here!
-The thought may motivate me to do something. (Example: I think that believing "I am too fat" will motivate me to lose weight.)
-I will avoid further pain and suffering.
Some people don't like the word "motive." They think it is a "negative" word. I want to point out that I don't think having motives is inherently bad—a motive can certainly be sincere or for a seemingly kind reason—but it might also cause unnecessary stress.
In pointing out these underlying motives to the client (or to yourself, if you are doing The Work yourself), we are not setting out to make the client wrong for having them. A belief that no longer serves could well have served the client in the past. It may have been a matter of survival to believe, for example, "I'm not safe" if, as a child, you lived in a high-crime neighborhood, or if your parents were violent towards each other or to you. It probably kept you alert to some real danger. If you're applying it to your life now, when in reality you are just fine—and the belief causes you distress when it comes up as the story of a nonexistent past or future—
you may want to investigate the thought and see if you still need it.
What if you can't identify the perceived payoff? Stay tuned for Part 2 in this series: What We Believe: When the Payoff Is Hard to Find.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
Many times, a client's initial response to this subquestion is, "There is no payoff; it's not serving me." When I hear that, I ask the client to sit with that question for few moments and see if anything comes to them.
In my experience, we never attach to a stressful thought unless we believe it is going to do something for us. That "something" might not be a very good benefit, or it may be outmoded...but there always is some reason why we continue to believe what we believe, even if it feels terrible.
Here are some motives for keeping a stressful thought: (You may have others; if you do, and you'd like to share them, please write your motives in the comments.)
-I get to be right.
-I get to feel superior.
-I get a sense of control (over a person, a situation, the universe).
-I get to blame someone or something else for my unhappiness.
-I don't have to look at my part in the problem.
-I don't have to change.
-I get a sense of security or safety.
-I don't have to take responsibility.
-I get a purpose in life.
-I get to keep a familiar identity, a "me" by which I have always defined myself.
-I get to know something.
-I am protecting myself from future disappointment.
-I get an escape clause; I'm out of here!
-The thought may motivate me to do something. (Example: I think that believing "I am too fat" will motivate me to lose weight.)
-I will avoid further pain and suffering.
Some people don't like the word "motive." They think it is a "negative" word. I want to point out that I don't think having motives is inherently bad—a motive can certainly be sincere or for a seemingly kind reason—but it might also cause unnecessary stress.
In pointing out these underlying motives to the client (or to yourself, if you are doing The Work yourself), we are not setting out to make the client wrong for having them. A belief that no longer serves could well have served the client in the past. It may have been a matter of survival to believe, for example, "I'm not safe" if, as a child, you lived in a high-crime neighborhood, or if your parents were violent towards each other or to you. It probably kept you alert to some real danger. If you're applying it to your life now, when in reality you are just fine—and the belief causes you distress when it comes up as the story of a nonexistent past or future—
you may want to investigate the thought and see if you still need it.
What if you can't identify the perceived payoff? Stay tuned for Part 2 in this series: What We Believe: When the Payoff Is Hard to Find.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
September 15, 2009
I Am Crabby, Resentful, Jealous, Self-pitying and Totally "I"-identified Today. Is That Okay with You?
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.
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.
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.
October 6, 2008
Desiring the McDreamy
It's gorgeous, important, enticing, sexy, powerful, soul-satisfying, everything you ever wanted...and it's not yours.I call it "The McDreamy."
Fans of the TV show Grey's Anatomy know what I'm talking about. For the rest, Patrick Dempsey's character on the show, the heartbreaker Dr. Derek Shepherd, a.k.a. Dr. McDreamy, has come to mean, in the popular lexicon, a devilishly handsome man that women want and can't have. In this case, the McDreamy is a married man who still loves the wife from whom he is separated. As wonderful as he is, he's also self-absorbed and unavailable.
I'm expanding the meaning of McDreamy to encompass whatever we desire that continually eludes us, and we just don't get it--or don't want to get it. It could be the perfect partner (if only s/he weren't already married)...or it might be the perfect house (that we can't afford or that someone else bought first), the perfect car (limited edition, when they're gone, they're gone), the dream job (only one person gets to be the Yankees announcer, and so far, it's not you), the book deal (editors and agents love it but in this economy, they won't take a chance on an unknown like you). It could be that you want the youthful beauty, health and flexibility of a 25-year-old, and you're 50. (Okay, now you've met one of my McDreamies!)
The difference between a McDreamy and something you could actually work towards getting is this: you simply can't have it. Even the most fervent practitioner of The Secret can't get it. It's not yours, and it's not going to happen in this lifetime, ever. You could have something else that is just as good, or even better for you, but no...it won't do at all, and so you get to be miserable and unfulfilled.
What's your McDreamy? Name it: "I'll never be happy without ______." Is that true? Hold your desire up against the Four Questions and Turnaround of The Work. Let your answers arise from the heart.
How do you react when you believe this thought? Look over your life; describe your past as you've strived for the unattainable.
Who would you be without this thought? Describe a happy life without the McDreamy. What does it look like? How would you treat yourself and others differently?
Turn the thought around: "I'll always be happy without _____ ." Is that as true or truer? Give specific examples.
Now, find three reasons why you are better off without that McDreamy.
The McDreamy: do you even want it anymore?
"Reality unfolds without desire, bringing with it more beauty, more luxury, more exquisite surprises than the imagination could ever devise. The mind, as it lives through its desires, demands that the body follow after it. How else can it mirror back original cause? Anger, sadness, or frustration lets us know that we're at war with the way of it. Even when we get what we wanted, we want it to last, and it doesn't, it can't. And because life is projected and mind is so full of confusion, there is no peace. But when you allow life to flow like water, you become that water. And you watch life lived to the ultimate, always giving you more than you need."
--Byron Katie, from A Thousand Names for Joy: Living in Harmony with the Way Things Are
©2008 by Carol L. Skolnick; all rights reserved.
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