SOUL SURGERY: exercises in inquiry with Carol L. Skolnick, Coach/Facilitator ClearLifeSolutions.com
Showing posts with label inquiry. Show all posts
Showing posts with label inquiry. Show all posts
April 13, 2011
Watch Your Cartoons
A man I’ll call Brad was my nemesis while we worked on a creative project together. He seemed to embody most of my old, stressful “men” stories; a physically imposing, self-important, bossy blowhard used to getting his way. I’d done some inquiry on Brad, but I hadn’t seen a meaningful shift in my feelings about him or in the way I acted around him. I’d slapped a label on him that, while it didn’t accurately list all of his ingredients, was very sticky and difficult to remove.
Truth be told, I didn’t want to let Brad off the hook! But in not doing so, I was keeping myself on the hook. This was especially painful because I really like Brad. He’s a talented, funny, and ultimately very caring person. Still, as I traveled to our meeting place, sometimes I would anticipate conflict and irritate myself in advance, in his name.
One day while doing my inquiry, I realized I was not interacting with Brad, but with a cartoon character of Brad; someone who was always infuriating, never open to others’ ideas. I also saw that if someone else were doing and saying the same things Brad did—someone whose portrait I painted with loving brushstrokes and delicate features instead of outsized characteristics—I might find it amusing, attractive or endearing. (You know how some people are allowed to talk to you through the bathroom door, but when others do, it’s gross? Or how, when your friends walk down the streets singing with their children, it’s funny and sweet, but when you were 10 years old and your parents did it, you wanted to run away and hide?)
I discovered that when I reduced Brad to a cartoon character, I became one as well. Mine looked rather like the little boy in the “Calvin and Hobbes” comic strip, who turns dark and smoldering when he doesn’t get his way, and acts out revenge fantasies on snowmen he builds that resemble his father.
So if Brad is not who I say he is, who is he? Perhaps, rather than a testosterone-soaked bully, he’s a strong person with strong opinions. That isn’t a problem unless I say it is. And I did say so because I saw myself as weak and ineffectual around him…which, as anyone who knows me even a little bit can tell you, is an insane assessment. When I understood this, I was free to see and treat Brad as masterful and proactive—qualities I admire—as opposed to “pushy and full of himself.” He ceased to be a thorn in my side and became a friend and collaborator.
When doing your inquiry—particularly question 3 of The Work, “How do you react when you believe this thought?”—notice how, as you attach to your stressful thoughts, you draw this person with bold strokes and outsized features to prove your point. Are your kids little hurricanes leaving your belongings broken and in disarray, seemingly taking over the entire house? Is your wife, as she’s hunkered over her laptop doing research, really an ice princess, cold and uncaring, who holds the reins of the relationship and never really loved you? What if, while dealing with your parents’ estate, you did not see your brother as the conniving monster who filched your allowance when you were children? Might you be able to communicate with him adult-to-adult today?
Conversely, watch how you, too become a cartoon character when you believe your thoughts about the cartoons. You are the woman whose kids will be the death of you; who does that woman appear to be in that moment? Powerless and harried, or enraged and shouting threats? You are the man whose wife isn’t interested in you. Do you sigh loudly in her presence, rustle the newspaper, slump your shoulders, soothe yourself with whatever’s in the fridge? You’re the trampled baby sister. Are you an ineffectual, broken-down victim, or a snarky little brat? Do you lash out like a wild beast at your cartoon compatriots, or run away like a 90-pound weakling?
When you’re doing The Work on the one you complain about the most…the one who can be counted on to disappoint you…the one who, no matter how prepared you think you are, never fails to trip you up…you can ask yourself, “What if this person isn’t who I say they are?” How would you treat them differently, show up differently with and for them, if you were dealing with a real person and not an exaggerated drawing of the sum total of your criticisms? Watch those crazy characters you’ve created; sit down with a worksheet and enjoy the show.
©2011 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
February 17, 2011
The Economy Is Bad; Is That True?
My client called me the other night with a remarkable Judge-Your-Neighbor Worksheet on the economy. I, too, like to do The Work on institutions—things (society, my body, my job, the weather, war, New York) as opposed to sentient beings (my upstairs neighbor, the governor of California, my father, the cat). We react to all outside sources that aren't doing what we want in the same way we react to people who aren't doing what we want. The outcome of doing this inner work is also the same: we get a printout of our current thinking, and a roadmap to alternate routes.
An economic recession lasts as long as it does; my stressful thinking about recession may last forever if I don't meet it with understanding. My thinking—not the unemployment statistics or the California state budget deficit—is what kicks me out of paradise. Jobs come and go; our thinking goes right after them. Markets fluctuate; our minds fluctuate right along with them. We watch our stocks rise; our happiness rises with them, temporarily. We watch them go down, and down we go. The experts say the future is bleak, and we believe them. Yesterday, an article in the New York Times said there will be employment growth this spring. Now I have a bad economy, but I have hope. And none of it means anything; it's all in my head.
No one can accurately predict what's going to happen in any given economy, in part because we simply don't have all the information, and in larger part because we are not in control of all of the factors. You can follow your broker's advice, or your brother's...take a second job...cut back on luxuries, or on what you used to consider necessities...sell your house now...sell your house later...file for bankruptcy...raise your fees...lower your fees...and there are no guarantees.
But what you can do, with an excellent return, is question your stressful beliefs about what is happening in the economy, in your working life, and in your life in general. "Reality is always kinder than the story we tell about it," says Byron Katie. My client discovered this when he examined thoughts about losing his job and being unable to pay rent, when in fact he has a job and had just closed some deals.
What is the worst that could happen if you lost everything? If you question your fears, you may come to see that the worst that could happen is already happening, in your mind...and, as you may have noticed, body follows mind. If I think, "What's the use?" I won't market my services. If I live in the future of lack, I'm already lacking and failing to notice I have everything I need in this moment.
Not long after the dot-com bust 10 years ago, I watched the financial expert Suze Orman help a woman who had lost nearly everything to strategize about her future. Because of bad advice, the woman had cashed in her pension when she lost her job, instead of rolling it over into an IRA. Now she had no job, and her net worth went from five digits to just $900. Orman told her, "Don't look at what you had; look at what you have. $900 is a lot of money; what can you do with it now?" I don't know about the woman on TV, but I know that advice was for me: don't look at what you had; look at what you have. When I'm in my "stuff," I forget about what's available here, now.
What is the best that could happen if you lost everything? You could get a fresh start, as a couple of friends of mine did when they walked away from their mortgages. You could find a whole new career and discover skills you didn't know you had; that's exciting. (It's happened to me several times in my 53 years, and I seem to be okay.) You get to bust your old paradigms and test new, more fun ones that might work better than the "tried and true" which turned out to be not so true. You get to see what you are really made of, put your creativity and smarts to the test. You even get to let people help you! As you continue to inquire, your mind opens and you see that there are infinite possibilities in what I like to call "a parallel universe of peace."
The root word of recession is "recess." Remember how we loved recess at school? What would keep us from loving it now?
The economy is bad...who would you be in this economy without that thought?
©2011 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
An economic recession lasts as long as it does; my stressful thinking about recession may last forever if I don't meet it with understanding. My thinking—not the unemployment statistics or the California state budget deficit—is what kicks me out of paradise. Jobs come and go; our thinking goes right after them. Markets fluctuate; our minds fluctuate right along with them. We watch our stocks rise; our happiness rises with them, temporarily. We watch them go down, and down we go. The experts say the future is bleak, and we believe them. Yesterday, an article in the New York Times said there will be employment growth this spring. Now I have a bad economy, but I have hope. And none of it means anything; it's all in my head.
No one can accurately predict what's going to happen in any given economy, in part because we simply don't have all the information, and in larger part because we are not in control of all of the factors. You can follow your broker's advice, or your brother's...take a second job...cut back on luxuries, or on what you used to consider necessities...sell your house now...sell your house later...file for bankruptcy...raise your fees...lower your fees...and there are no guarantees.
But what you can do, with an excellent return, is question your stressful beliefs about what is happening in the economy, in your working life, and in your life in general. "Reality is always kinder than the story we tell about it," says Byron Katie. My client discovered this when he examined thoughts about losing his job and being unable to pay rent, when in fact he has a job and had just closed some deals.
What is the worst that could happen if you lost everything? If you question your fears, you may come to see that the worst that could happen is already happening, in your mind...and, as you may have noticed, body follows mind. If I think, "What's the use?" I won't market my services. If I live in the future of lack, I'm already lacking and failing to notice I have everything I need in this moment.
Not long after the dot-com bust 10 years ago, I watched the financial expert Suze Orman help a woman who had lost nearly everything to strategize about her future. Because of bad advice, the woman had cashed in her pension when she lost her job, instead of rolling it over into an IRA. Now she had no job, and her net worth went from five digits to just $900. Orman told her, "Don't look at what you had; look at what you have. $900 is a lot of money; what can you do with it now?" I don't know about the woman on TV, but I know that advice was for me: don't look at what you had; look at what you have. When I'm in my "stuff," I forget about what's available here, now.
What is the best that could happen if you lost everything? You could get a fresh start, as a couple of friends of mine did when they walked away from their mortgages. You could find a whole new career and discover skills you didn't know you had; that's exciting. (It's happened to me several times in my 53 years, and I seem to be okay.) You get to bust your old paradigms and test new, more fun ones that might work better than the "tried and true" which turned out to be not so true. You get to see what you are really made of, put your creativity and smarts to the test. You even get to let people help you! As you continue to inquire, your mind opens and you see that there are infinite possibilities in what I like to call "a parallel universe of peace."
The root word of recession is "recess." Remember how we loved recess at school? What would keep us from loving it now?
The economy is bad...who would you be in this economy without that thought?
©2011 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
January 14, 2011
Turning Around B.S.
In recent months I seem to have developed an extreme intolerance to b.s. In particular, I get uncomfortable around absolutist statements regarding teachings that don't work for me (so I may not be the best person to talk to about Satan, contacting your angel guides, or the wit and wisdom of Sarah Palin)...or those that trigger "cult" memories (such as the words "impure" and "negativity," terms used to keep us devotees in line at the ashram), or stuff from my own mentors that seems downright incorrect in my experience (just because you-know-who says "All sadness is a minor tantrum" doesn't make it true)...and, last but not least, by my own attempts to b.s. others by hiding behind insincerity, spiritual talk, quotable quotes and smiley chat icons like this one :).
I think it's fine to notice b.s., and it's more than fine to endeavor to keep my own tendencies to b.s. in check. What doesn't feel fine is my reactivity to b.s., or, more accurately, what I label as "b.s." I haven't spent all this time in inquiry for nothing: my objections do not make me happy. I don't really enjoy being the Geraldo Rivera of horse hockey, exposing it with derision or horror while offering nothing better in return. Even if I do have something else to offer, I'd rather do it without vilifying that with which I don't agree.
So here's an experiment I am trying and invite you to it if you like it:
1) Rather than cry "B.S!" I would like to be able to 1) politely disagree and 2) offer kind alternatives. I say "alternatives" as opposed to "substitutes," as perhaps the original needs no substitute. We're all entitled to espouse what works for us. I can choose and offer my own alternatives without making the your alternative wrong.
Example: A single friend sent me an email about how women can cultivate successful romantic relationships with men. It had a line that was right out of that old book, The Rules (the one that advises women to play hard to get, not be so available, and not to do things for men). I had a strong reaction to it and resisted the urge to write back to my friend that this was the "old way" and manipulative, that there was nothing in this email about real relationship. Instead, I didn't respond, writing it off as b.s. Now that I look back, I could have had a conversation with my friend, asked her why she felt this email contained good advice, shared my heart and my experience, heard from her why this doesn't work for her. Instead of the rift between us that I created in my head, maybe we both would have learned something.
2) Rather than simply call myself on my own b.s., I would like to be aware of the motives behind it. What would I have to believe in order to say anything that is less than 100% genuine? What am I trying to protect, project or avoid? What is the worst that could happen if I were truthful instead? Voila, here is my work to take to inquiry.
Example: I write on a Facebook friend's wall post, "I don't get this at all. :)." What's the :) about? "You can hurt me, if I disagree with you, you won't like me, I need to placate people, it's not okay to disagree." All good beliefs to bring to inquiry.
3) "This is b.s.; is that true?" When I cry b.s., it is probably because I feel challenged, threatened or offended. In short, I am afraid. Can I find any truth in what I am so quick to label as b.s.?
For instance: "If you do not see the perfection of this spiritual path, it is your own impurities keeping you from the truth. You should pray for the grace to develop good qualities and turn away from negativity." This is the kind of thing that puts fur on my teeth. Why? Not merely because I don't believe it—there are plenty of things I don't believe in that don't bother me—but because for many years, I used such teachings as a stick with which to beat myself. "I'm impure! I'm negative! Negativity is bad! I am keeping myself from the truth, and that means I will never be okay!" I didn't have inquiry in those days.
Today, with better tools in hand, I don't need to put the stick in my other hand and beat the teachers or teachings. Instead, I can ask myself, "I am impure; is that true?" and "They manipulated me with these teachings; is that true?"
A closer look reveals this: if I react to these words through the filter of my prejudices, I have to call them b.s. in order to be right and feel safe. If the prejudices aren't there, I see that there is some truth here; I don't see the perfection of this spiritual path when I don't see that it is fine for it to exist, and that doesn't mean I have to partake of it. My impurities—in the form of fear, which leads to defensiveness—keep me from the truth (that this path, whether or not I choose to follow it, is perfect in that it exists in a world that is perfect until I say it isn't). If I prayed, I would pray for the grace of an open mind, which is my way of developing good qualities of equanimity and clarity in the face of what is. An open mind can have preferences without naysaying; and that is the end of negativity.
Who would have believed it? B.s. is here for our freedom!
©2011 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
I think it's fine to notice b.s., and it's more than fine to endeavor to keep my own tendencies to b.s. in check. What doesn't feel fine is my reactivity to b.s., or, more accurately, what I label as "b.s." I haven't spent all this time in inquiry for nothing: my objections do not make me happy. I don't really enjoy being the Geraldo Rivera of horse hockey, exposing it with derision or horror while offering nothing better in return. Even if I do have something else to offer, I'd rather do it without vilifying that with which I don't agree.
So here's an experiment I am trying and invite you to it if you like it:
1) Rather than cry "B.S!" I would like to be able to 1) politely disagree and 2) offer kind alternatives. I say "alternatives" as opposed to "substitutes," as perhaps the original needs no substitute. We're all entitled to espouse what works for us. I can choose and offer my own alternatives without making the your alternative wrong.
Example: A single friend sent me an email about how women can cultivate successful romantic relationships with men. It had a line that was right out of that old book, The Rules (the one that advises women to play hard to get, not be so available, and not to do things for men). I had a strong reaction to it and resisted the urge to write back to my friend that this was the "old way" and manipulative, that there was nothing in this email about real relationship. Instead, I didn't respond, writing it off as b.s. Now that I look back, I could have had a conversation with my friend, asked her why she felt this email contained good advice, shared my heart and my experience, heard from her why this doesn't work for her. Instead of the rift between us that I created in my head, maybe we both would have learned something.
2) Rather than simply call myself on my own b.s., I would like to be aware of the motives behind it. What would I have to believe in order to say anything that is less than 100% genuine? What am I trying to protect, project or avoid? What is the worst that could happen if I were truthful instead? Voila, here is my work to take to inquiry.
Example: I write on a Facebook friend's wall post, "I don't get this at all. :)." What's the :) about? "You can hurt me, if I disagree with you, you won't like me, I need to placate people, it's not okay to disagree." All good beliefs to bring to inquiry.
3) "This is b.s.; is that true?" When I cry b.s., it is probably because I feel challenged, threatened or offended. In short, I am afraid. Can I find any truth in what I am so quick to label as b.s.?
For instance: "If you do not see the perfection of this spiritual path, it is your own impurities keeping you from the truth. You should pray for the grace to develop good qualities and turn away from negativity." This is the kind of thing that puts fur on my teeth. Why? Not merely because I don't believe it—there are plenty of things I don't believe in that don't bother me—but because for many years, I used such teachings as a stick with which to beat myself. "I'm impure! I'm negative! Negativity is bad! I am keeping myself from the truth, and that means I will never be okay!" I didn't have inquiry in those days.
Today, with better tools in hand, I don't need to put the stick in my other hand and beat the teachers or teachings. Instead, I can ask myself, "I am impure; is that true?" and "They manipulated me with these teachings; is that true?"
A closer look reveals this: if I react to these words through the filter of my prejudices, I have to call them b.s. in order to be right and feel safe. If the prejudices aren't there, I see that there is some truth here; I don't see the perfection of this spiritual path when I don't see that it is fine for it to exist, and that doesn't mean I have to partake of it. My impurities—in the form of fear, which leads to defensiveness—keep me from the truth (that this path, whether or not I choose to follow it, is perfect in that it exists in a world that is perfect until I say it isn't). If I prayed, I would pray for the grace of an open mind, which is my way of developing good qualities of equanimity and clarity in the face of what is. An open mind can have preferences without naysaying; and that is the end of negativity.
Who would have believed it? B.s. is here for our freedom!
©2011 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
November 22, 2010
Got Gratitude? If Not, Try This
2010 has been a difficult year for many of us, the world over. I have friends who have been successful and productive for most of their lives who are now unemployed or underemployed, have lost their homes or are in foreclosure, who have become clients of food pantries, and who have had health crises they can't afford to address.
Not everyone has a supportive family, a spouse or friends to help. Some of us who do may feel they don't do enough for us. We look to our politicians; what have they done for us lately? Where's our economic recovery?
And we're supposed to be thankful now?
Well...it might be a little easier to cope with the hardships if we could muster up some gratitude for what we have.
I don't suggest we go all Pollyanna and say we are glad to be living in a friend's basement when in fact we are not glad about that...or grateful to have at least one good hip when the other one's disintegrating and hurting like hell. No government worker I know here in Santa Cruz is glad about the furlough days that cut into their salaries.
So I suggest we take a look at the people, institutions and bodies that have done us wrong in this past year, and ask ourselves...
1. What have I received from this person, place, institution or body? Maybe not today, maybe not this week, this month or this year. What about in this lifetime? Make a list and be specific; don't negate any of what you have received, no matter how small or insignificant you rate it. Example: "My husband walks the dog sometimes." "My body wakes up every morning." "My mother read to me when I was little." "The pantry gave me government-issue cheese and canned beans for six months."
2. What have I done for this person, place, institution or body lately? Put it in writing. Notice how it feels to read your list. Does it feel like "enough" for you? Did you do these things out of obligation, with generosity, with a motive to get something in return, because you were afraid not to?
3. Is there something I am not acknowledging or appreciating about what this person, place, institution or body has given or done for me? Am I seeing it as "not enough," "too little, too late," "they owed it to me," or a "yeahbut"? What would it be like to drop the qualifiers?
4. Is there anything I want to say or do for the person, place, institution or body, now that I have looked at my thinking? Am I grateful to them? Do I want to make amends? How can I express my gratitude, or be of service, in a way that would feel comfortable, true and non-manipulative?
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
Not everyone has a supportive family, a spouse or friends to help. Some of us who do may feel they don't do enough for us. We look to our politicians; what have they done for us lately? Where's our economic recovery?
And we're supposed to be thankful now?
Well...it might be a little easier to cope with the hardships if we could muster up some gratitude for what we have.
I don't suggest we go all Pollyanna and say we are glad to be living in a friend's basement when in fact we are not glad about that...or grateful to have at least one good hip when the other one's disintegrating and hurting like hell. No government worker I know here in Santa Cruz is glad about the furlough days that cut into their salaries.
So I suggest we take a look at the people, institutions and bodies that have done us wrong in this past year, and ask ourselves...
1. What have I received from this person, place, institution or body? Maybe not today, maybe not this week, this month or this year. What about in this lifetime? Make a list and be specific; don't negate any of what you have received, no matter how small or insignificant you rate it. Example: "My husband walks the dog sometimes." "My body wakes up every morning." "My mother read to me when I was little." "The pantry gave me government-issue cheese and canned beans for six months."
2. What have I done for this person, place, institution or body lately? Put it in writing. Notice how it feels to read your list. Does it feel like "enough" for you? Did you do these things out of obligation, with generosity, with a motive to get something in return, because you were afraid not to?
3. Is there something I am not acknowledging or appreciating about what this person, place, institution or body has given or done for me? Am I seeing it as "not enough," "too little, too late," "they owed it to me," or a "yeahbut"? What would it be like to drop the qualifiers?
4. Is there anything I want to say or do for the person, place, institution or body, now that I have looked at my thinking? Am I grateful to them? Do I want to make amends? How can I express my gratitude, or be of service, in a way that would feel comfortable, true and non-manipulative?
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
October 25, 2010
Is There Such A Thing as Energy Transmission?
Does this do anything for you?
I've watched it twice and I didn't feel a thing. That doesn't mean Eckhart's work is ineffective. It just means that one woman's "transmission" is another woman's lack thereof. I'm certainly open to feeling something...but then, I had no expectations before watching this that I would. While I like Eckhart Tolle's writings and resonate with a lot of what he says, I don't have a story about his having special abilities. Maybe if I believed he could wake me up, I would have woken up watching this, but that would have had nothing to do with him. The thought, "Here's an enlightened one, and s/he's going to awaken me," could result in something that feels good. And if the good feelings don't last...what would I have that I didn't have before? What did I lose? What happened to my story of energy transmission?
Similarly, if I feel terrible when I'm around someone I have labeled in a negative way, it's still just a story. I may not like the person or I may feel uncomfortable around them, but no one can make me feel one way or another. I am reacting to an image, an idea. (This doesn't mean I'm going to lock myself in a room with an armed and dangerous serial killer!)
Teachers are great for pointing the way to the heart, but ultimately it's our own hearts we get in touch with in their name. That's why a particular teacher works for some folks and not for others. It's also why it's not necessary to negate all the goodness we have experienced in relationship to a teacher (or to any human being) if the relationship ends in disappointment, or has run its course.
Unless we're talking about fixing a car, I don't find this emphasis on "transmission" to be helpful; I find it creates someone higher and someone lower.
I prefer to know that I can "enlighten" myself in any given moment by being present with what is happening now (for example, through inquiry). Then there is no dependency on anything or anyone outside myself; and everyone is equally blessed with the power of transmission.
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
I've watched it twice and I didn't feel a thing. That doesn't mean Eckhart's work is ineffective. It just means that one woman's "transmission" is another woman's lack thereof. I'm certainly open to feeling something...but then, I had no expectations before watching this that I would. While I like Eckhart Tolle's writings and resonate with a lot of what he says, I don't have a story about his having special abilities. Maybe if I believed he could wake me up, I would have woken up watching this, but that would have had nothing to do with him. The thought, "Here's an enlightened one, and s/he's going to awaken me," could result in something that feels good. And if the good feelings don't last...what would I have that I didn't have before? What did I lose? What happened to my story of energy transmission?
Similarly, if I feel terrible when I'm around someone I have labeled in a negative way, it's still just a story. I may not like the person or I may feel uncomfortable around them, but no one can make me feel one way or another. I am reacting to an image, an idea. (This doesn't mean I'm going to lock myself in a room with an armed and dangerous serial killer!)
Teachers are great for pointing the way to the heart, but ultimately it's our own hearts we get in touch with in their name. That's why a particular teacher works for some folks and not for others. It's also why it's not necessary to negate all the goodness we have experienced in relationship to a teacher (or to any human being) if the relationship ends in disappointment, or has run its course.
Unless we're talking about fixing a car, I don't find this emphasis on "transmission" to be helpful; I find it creates someone higher and someone lower.
I prefer to know that I can "enlighten" myself in any given moment by being present with what is happening now (for example, through inquiry). Then there is no dependency on anything or anyone outside myself; and everyone is equally blessed with the power of transmission.
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
October 5, 2010
Ask A Facilitator: Won't I Be a Doormat?
Q: If I answer Question 4, "Who would I be without that thought?" it's just speculation. In reality, I'd be an idiot without my thoughts, ignoring the facts and with no protection. Can't I just skip to the turnarounds?
A: Yes it's speculative; question 4 of The Work of Byron Katie is meant to open the mind to possibilities other than the one we've been believing. It's not about ignoring facts, or even about changing from one thought to another.
In my experience, without the "education" of my answers to the four questions, the turnarounds can leave me feeling incomplete. It's too easy for me to go to default, making my turnarounds into affirmations (which tend not to work for me) or sticks with which to beat myself (which, though habitual, really really really don't work for me).
I'm not the most "positive" person on earth, as my readers and friends may have noticed. I doubt, I distrust, I fear something bad will happen if I'm not vigilant. So for me, question 4 is a stretch, and it's meant to be. I, too, want to say, "I'd be a fool, I'd be a patsy, I'd be a doormat."
When the mind comes up with those quick answers, I have learned to be patient, to say, "That could be; and is there anything else? What if this stressful thought did not run my life? How would I show up, facts in hand, without living out of this belief and all the repercussions of doing so that I have seen in Question 3?"
That allows me to see myself in any situation as loving, present, self-posessed. And then I can at believe my "positive" turnarounds without myself to task over the "negative" ones.
Example:
Let's say I have done The Work on "He verbally abused me." Let's say my answer to questions 1 and 2 are "Yes, it is true. I can absolutely know that it's true." (I don't have to get cosmic and say, "Oh, he called me names and said things that I experienced as shaming and blaming, but that was only my interpretation." If I'm doing The Work on this when the issue is still "hot," I'm not in that space; I would never tell anyone else that they had brought their abuse on themselves.)
So, briefly, when I live out of the belief (which is different, for me, than believing it: you can acknowledge that something happened and not base your every waking moment on it), I am seeing just one part of our relationship. I take the moments where he said and did this, this and this and that becomes the entire relationship, in my mind. I hate him, I see him as sadistic, I blame him for my unhappiness, I worry that he's right; my self-esteem plummets. I overeat to ease the pain. I complain about him to others. I fight back with my own sharp tongue, an eye for an eye. I manipulate him with my body. I project a loveless future for myself. I want him to suffer. I want him to understand that he damaged me. I am damaged goods.
Who would I be without this thought? (Here's where the voice kicks in that says I'd be Cleopatra the Queen of Denial, an idiot, a battered woman who is victimized by the big bad man, etc.) I would see that ending the relationship equals sanity and I need not do it with drama and recrimination. I would see him as doing the best he can when he is obviously in pain, and this does not mean I stay with him. I would notice that I still care for him and am still attracted to him, and this does not mean that I stay with him. I notice that I care about myself enough to stop hurting myself in his name. I don't make all men out to be abusers. I cherish the wonderful connection we had and don't diminish that.
Now I can experience my turnarounds (He did not verbally abuse me. I verbally abused myself. I verbally abused him. He verbally nurtured me) with clarity. They are all true to varying degrees, and I was not wrong to believe my original statement; I'm not insane.
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved. The Work of Byron Katie, ©Byron Katie International, used with permission.
A: Yes it's speculative; question 4 of The Work of Byron Katie is meant to open the mind to possibilities other than the one we've been believing. It's not about ignoring facts, or even about changing from one thought to another.
In my experience, without the "education" of my answers to the four questions, the turnarounds can leave me feeling incomplete. It's too easy for me to go to default, making my turnarounds into affirmations (which tend not to work for me) or sticks with which to beat myself (which, though habitual, really really really don't work for me).
I'm not the most "positive" person on earth, as my readers and friends may have noticed. I doubt, I distrust, I fear something bad will happen if I'm not vigilant. So for me, question 4 is a stretch, and it's meant to be. I, too, want to say, "I'd be a fool, I'd be a patsy, I'd be a doormat."
When the mind comes up with those quick answers, I have learned to be patient, to say, "That could be; and is there anything else? What if this stressful thought did not run my life? How would I show up, facts in hand, without living out of this belief and all the repercussions of doing so that I have seen in Question 3?"
That allows me to see myself in any situation as loving, present, self-posessed. And then I can at believe my "positive" turnarounds without myself to task over the "negative" ones.
Example:
Let's say I have done The Work on "He verbally abused me." Let's say my answer to questions 1 and 2 are "Yes, it is true. I can absolutely know that it's true." (I don't have to get cosmic and say, "Oh, he called me names and said things that I experienced as shaming and blaming, but that was only my interpretation." If I'm doing The Work on this when the issue is still "hot," I'm not in that space; I would never tell anyone else that they had brought their abuse on themselves.)
So, briefly, when I live out of the belief (which is different, for me, than believing it: you can acknowledge that something happened and not base your every waking moment on it), I am seeing just one part of our relationship. I take the moments where he said and did this, this and this and that becomes the entire relationship, in my mind. I hate him, I see him as sadistic, I blame him for my unhappiness, I worry that he's right; my self-esteem plummets. I overeat to ease the pain. I complain about him to others. I fight back with my own sharp tongue, an eye for an eye. I manipulate him with my body. I project a loveless future for myself. I want him to suffer. I want him to understand that he damaged me. I am damaged goods.
Who would I be without this thought? (Here's where the voice kicks in that says I'd be Cleopatra the Queen of Denial, an idiot, a battered woman who is victimized by the big bad man, etc.) I would see that ending the relationship equals sanity and I need not do it with drama and recrimination. I would see him as doing the best he can when he is obviously in pain, and this does not mean I stay with him. I would notice that I still care for him and am still attracted to him, and this does not mean that I stay with him. I notice that I care about myself enough to stop hurting myself in his name. I don't make all men out to be abusers. I cherish the wonderful connection we had and don't diminish that.
Now I can experience my turnarounds (He did not verbally abuse me. I verbally abused myself. I verbally abused him. He verbally nurtured me) with clarity. They are all true to varying degrees, and I was not wrong to believe my original statement; I'm not insane.
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved. The Work of Byron Katie, ©Byron Katie International, used with permission.
September 3, 2010
Forgiveness
As the Jewish New Year approaches—a time for self-reflection, forgiveness and making amends—I wanted to share with you a poem/prayer by Meredith Cahn that I received in my email today. It touched my heart and I would take it one step further: "Let me not bear guilt on my own account." Let there be no guilt, only atonement/at-one-ment!
Its arrival is most timely, as I have been thinking about some worksheets I have somehow escaped dealing with (nine of them at last count!!!)...so that I may begin again with a clean slate and a light heart.
Whatever your spiritual beliefs or lack thereof...may all be inscribed in the Book of Life for a joyous new year/new you!
For more about these holidays in light of self-inquiry, please see my series of articles "Days of Awe" posted here at the Soul Surgery blog in 2007, beginning with this one.
Love,
Carol
Its arrival is most timely, as I have been thinking about some worksheets I have somehow escaped dealing with (nine of them at last count!!!)...so that I may begin again with a clean slate and a light heart.
Whatever your spiritual beliefs or lack thereof...may all be inscribed in the Book of Life for a joyous new year/new you!
For more about these holidays in light of self-inquiry, please see my series of articles "Days of Awe" posted here at the Soul Surgery blog in 2007, beginning with this one.
Love,
Carol
Ribono shel Olam,
I stand before You
and before my community
Pardoning,
Forgiving.
Seeking at least to be open and forgiving
To all those who have hurt or angered me,
Be this hurt of body or soul,
Of honor or property,
Whether the other was forced to hurt me
Or did so willingly;
Whether it was by accident or intent;
Whether I was hurt by word or by deed;
Whether this wound is a new one
Or one that still festers from some earlier world of mine--
I forgive because we are both human.
May no person bear guilt on my account.
—Meredith Cahn
August 13, 2010
Focus on Facilitation: Adapting Inquiry to Alternative Learning Styles
The theory of multiple intelligences may be useful for facilitators of The Work of Byron Katie.
I have often used metaphors with my clients as a way of explaining how The Work works, but until last week, I never danced around the room!
Many of us are kinesthetic, musical or spatial learners; I know I am to an extent. I don't always understand abstract concepts right away, but if I can employ different senses and parts of my brain, find a tune to fit something I need to memorize, visual something concrete, I learn more quickly. As an educator, I was taught to use media and movement with my students as a way of helping them learn using different parts of the brain; for instance, getting some of my high school students to appreciate Robert Frost's poetry in print wasn't a happening thing, but they enjoyed listening to a recording of him reading "The Road Not Taken" (they were amused by his quavering voice and old-fashioned New England accent), which opened them to discussing the author's technique and intent. Similarly, when I was teaching elementary-school age English as a Second Language students, we sang songs in English which included lots of repetition; some kids who were not able to or interested in learning English in traditional ways soon were speaking in full sentences!
I have a client who, after several sessions, continued to have difficulty with question 3 of The Work, "Who would you be without this thought?" She gave me a clue about how to proceed by saying, "I have a hard time stepping out of the situation." I said, "So let's step out of it." Standing straight in front of her, I said, "Let's take a hypothetical situation. Say one day I left the house, went to work, and I was held up at gunpoint by a Croatian man in a warehouse, and now I can't go into warehouses, or be around men, or Croats, or hear Serbo-Croation being spoken, without getting panic attacks. My thought it, 'I'm too sick to work." (My apologies to men, Croats, and warehouses; nothing personal.) Because of her particular situation, which had nothing to do with being held up at gunpoint or men or Croatians, or warehouses, she actually related to the example.
I stepped to the left. "Prior to that incident, and that thought, I went to work each day, and had interactions with all kinds of people, and entered all kinds of buildings, without fear." She got that. I stepped back into the center.
"How do I react when I believe the thought, I'm too sick to work'? I tell a story about what happened, after the fact." I step to the right, facing the center. "I remember what happened over there, and from over here, my body tenses up, I feel faint. I break out into a cold sweat around men. I can't go into the basement at home; it looks too much like the warehouse. I'm sure that if I leave the house, it will happen again. My mind travels to someone pulling a gun on me and I die painfully." I go on like this for a bit more.
"Who would I be without this thought?" I move back to the center and take a step backwards." "Now I am taking myself out of the situation and looking at it, as it really happened, as if watching a movie, but without my spin on it. I see a man holding a woman at gunpoint and then letting me go. I, the woman, am okay, not dead yet. I notice I was always okay; he never hurt me.
"Now I need to use my imagination a little. Who would I be right now without this thought, applying for a job? I would go to the office building; I would fill out the application; I would be present, empowered and excited."
Click! Now my client sees that The Work is a way of observing the mechanisms of the mind; she doesn't have to deny what happened or even her experience of what happened; she gets to take on different vantage points and see if they can be equally valid. She has asked that we "somaticize" this portion of The Work this way from now on; and my guess is that we won't always need to, once she gets it "in the bones."
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
I have often used metaphors with my clients as a way of explaining how The Work works, but until last week, I never danced around the room!
Many of us are kinesthetic, musical or spatial learners; I know I am to an extent. I don't always understand abstract concepts right away, but if I can employ different senses and parts of my brain, find a tune to fit something I need to memorize, visual something concrete, I learn more quickly. As an educator, I was taught to use media and movement with my students as a way of helping them learn using different parts of the brain; for instance, getting some of my high school students to appreciate Robert Frost's poetry in print wasn't a happening thing, but they enjoyed listening to a recording of him reading "The Road Not Taken" (they were amused by his quavering voice and old-fashioned New England accent), which opened them to discussing the author's technique and intent. Similarly, when I was teaching elementary-school age English as a Second Language students, we sang songs in English which included lots of repetition; some kids who were not able to or interested in learning English in traditional ways soon were speaking in full sentences!
I have a client who, after several sessions, continued to have difficulty with question 3 of The Work, "Who would you be without this thought?" She gave me a clue about how to proceed by saying, "I have a hard time stepping out of the situation." I said, "So let's step out of it." Standing straight in front of her, I said, "Let's take a hypothetical situation. Say one day I left the house, went to work, and I was held up at gunpoint by a Croatian man in a warehouse, and now I can't go into warehouses, or be around men, or Croats, or hear Serbo-Croation being spoken, without getting panic attacks. My thought it, 'I'm too sick to work." (My apologies to men, Croats, and warehouses; nothing personal.) Because of her particular situation, which had nothing to do with being held up at gunpoint or men or Croatians, or warehouses, she actually related to the example.
I stepped to the left. "Prior to that incident, and that thought, I went to work each day, and had interactions with all kinds of people, and entered all kinds of buildings, without fear." She got that. I stepped back into the center.
"How do I react when I believe the thought, I'm too sick to work'? I tell a story about what happened, after the fact." I step to the right, facing the center. "I remember what happened over there, and from over here, my body tenses up, I feel faint. I break out into a cold sweat around men. I can't go into the basement at home; it looks too much like the warehouse. I'm sure that if I leave the house, it will happen again. My mind travels to someone pulling a gun on me and I die painfully." I go on like this for a bit more.
"Who would I be without this thought?" I move back to the center and take a step backwards." "Now I am taking myself out of the situation and looking at it, as it really happened, as if watching a movie, but without my spin on it. I see a man holding a woman at gunpoint and then letting me go. I, the woman, am okay, not dead yet. I notice I was always okay; he never hurt me.
"Now I need to use my imagination a little. Who would I be right now without this thought, applying for a job? I would go to the office building; I would fill out the application; I would be present, empowered and excited."
Click! Now my client sees that The Work is a way of observing the mechanisms of the mind; she doesn't have to deny what happened or even her experience of what happened; she gets to take on different vantage points and see if they can be equally valid. She has asked that we "somaticize" this portion of The Work this way from now on; and my guess is that we won't always need to, once she gets it "in the bones."
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
June 16, 2010
Whose Identity Is This, Anyway?
There was a time in my life when I would have felt too uncomfortable to smile and say hi back to her, when the hesitation would not have been momentary but total. At that time I would never have stopped to read the posters in the window in case anyone I knew (or anyone I didn't know) might think I had a vested interest in gayness. Even though I lived in Greenwich Village for many years—the former heart of gay life in the city—and even though I had gay, bi and lesbian friends and attended Pride Weekend activities with them, I always made sure to wear my "Straight But Not Narrow" button, just in case anyone had any ideas. Since none of my straight friends ever went to watch the parade—they tended to avoid downtown altogether—I thought I was extremely open-minded; I had no idea how homophobic I was. Years later, when I became friendly with a trans-man, I had yet another entire set of misconceptions and fears to question and work through.
Now that I (mostly) know that others' sexuality and gender identification are none of my business, I continued to stand in front of the Diversity Center, read the posters, smile and say hi to the woman who came out of the center, and I thought, perhaps "my" gender and sexuality are none of my business either. They are not "mine."
No one can help loving someone else in the way that we do. (And why would we want to help it? It doesn't need our help!) No one does anything to come into this world with the genes and organs we have. How can I take credit for this? How can I even label myself one thing or another?
I understand the thinking behind Gay Pride; pride being the opposite of shame, it makes perfect sense to celebrate what society has long deemed shameful, and always with disastrous results. Of course, straight people can be ashamed of their sexuality as well. As a pre-teen, I was simply horrified by mine; my desire for boys seemed huge and overwhelming, totally wrong for someone my age to be carrying around. Then there was that O.A. meeting I attended once at the Gay and Lesbian center in Manhattan, where I felt I would be hanged at sundown if anyone knew a "breeder" had infiltrated their safe haven. It seems so funny now. Why didn't I celebrate those wonderful people—and myself—for gathering in support and fellowship?
It occurs to me that if I'm ashamed of my sexuality, just as if I am ashamed of my body, I'm confused. And also if I'm proud of it, I'm confused. Once again, I'm identifying with something that doesn't belong to me and, like everything else, is subject to change without notice.
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
May 20, 2010
Focus on Facilitation: I Heart "Difficult" Clients!
Recently I worked with someone who yeahbutted, becaused, justified, defended, and told stories for the better part of three sessions. This isn't unusual and I handled it the way I usually do; I listened for awhile, then pointed out what was happening and led her back to the questions...which pissed her off. That's also not unusual; and that's okay with me, I'm not doing this job in order to make friends, and I make that clear with every "difficult" client I encounter, while making sure they are okay with getting back to the process of inquiry.
During the last of our three sessions, something sunk in, the client said said, that hadn't budged for her after years of therapy on the same issue she was trying to dodge as she worked on it with me. So she signed up for more sessions.
If every client were "easy," I would not have the privilege of witnessing how most everyone who opts to sit in the client "hot seat" thirsts for resolution and eventually finds it. Sometimes they don't, or they don't just yet; and that is business of mine. When the time is right, there is simply nothing we, as clients, can do about breaking through. When it's not time, there is simply nothing that we, as facilitators, can do about that either. There's no magic formula, there are no right words to say. That's why it's great to tap into our own difficult-ness, so we can meet them where they are, where we are. Have you ever been resistant, cranky, closed, convinced you're right? I sure have. Five minutes ago. Five minutes from now.
I was a difficult client amundo o-rama. Just ask Byron Katie; she fondly remembers me fighting with her, in my fiery red dress. Then she got to watch while my world melted away before our eyes, not a moment before it was supposed to. Too bad my two times in the chair with her and my time at my first school weren't recorded so you could all see how adorable I am when I'm insane. (Friends of mine know that I'm still difficult!) And how helpless I was as sanity slowly came to light.
Nobody needs The Work, not if they don't want it. And if a "difficult" client is sitting with me, I have to assume they want it. I'm not going to give up on them, try to change their minds, spout canned wisdom at them. I'm not going to pounce on them the second I hear them say the letter "b" (as in "but" and "because"). This isn't a game of "gotcha."
Instead, I'm going to hear them and let them hear themselves. (So many juicy core beliefs come to light when a client justifies, defends and gives backstory; why wouldn't we want that?) Then I'm going to give them whatever I have, which isn't much. That's what was given to me: not much; and of course, that "not much" was more than enough. That's why I'm still here to tell the tale.
In my experience, the "difficult" clients are working harder than anyone else I work with. They are scared to lose their stories; and yet, they want to. The story is half gone already and they are holding on to its remnants for dear life, knowing they are about to lose the old religion for good.
Maybe the bigger we are, the harder we fall.
I love my "difficult" clients! Yeah, I play favorites; because (oh no, justification!) they are me, they are my heart, they are my work. And "difficult" is a story I used to use to torture myself in their name.
I hope, for your sake, that you don't still believe in "difficult" clients.
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
During the last of our three sessions, something sunk in, the client said said, that hadn't budged for her after years of therapy on the same issue she was trying to dodge as she worked on it with me. So she signed up for more sessions.
If every client were "easy," I would not have the privilege of witnessing how most everyone who opts to sit in the client "hot seat" thirsts for resolution and eventually finds it. Sometimes they don't, or they don't just yet; and that is business of mine. When the time is right, there is simply nothing we, as clients, can do about breaking through. When it's not time, there is simply nothing that we, as facilitators, can do about that either. There's no magic formula, there are no right words to say. That's why it's great to tap into our own difficult-ness, so we can meet them where they are, where we are. Have you ever been resistant, cranky, closed, convinced you're right? I sure have. Five minutes ago. Five minutes from now.
I was a difficult client amundo o-rama. Just ask Byron Katie; she fondly remembers me fighting with her, in my fiery red dress. Then she got to watch while my world melted away before our eyes, not a moment before it was supposed to. Too bad my two times in the chair with her and my time at my first school weren't recorded so you could all see how adorable I am when I'm insane. (Friends of mine know that I'm still difficult!) And how helpless I was as sanity slowly came to light.
Nobody needs The Work, not if they don't want it. And if a "difficult" client is sitting with me, I have to assume they want it. I'm not going to give up on them, try to change their minds, spout canned wisdom at them. I'm not going to pounce on them the second I hear them say the letter "b" (as in "but" and "because"). This isn't a game of "gotcha."
Instead, I'm going to hear them and let them hear themselves. (So many juicy core beliefs come to light when a client justifies, defends and gives backstory; why wouldn't we want that?) Then I'm going to give them whatever I have, which isn't much. That's what was given to me: not much; and of course, that "not much" was more than enough. That's why I'm still here to tell the tale.
In my experience, the "difficult" clients are working harder than anyone else I work with. They are scared to lose their stories; and yet, they want to. The story is half gone already and they are holding on to its remnants for dear life, knowing they are about to lose the old religion for good.
Maybe the bigger we are, the harder we fall.
I love my "difficult" clients! Yeah, I play favorites; because (oh no, justification!) they are me, they are my heart, they are my work. And "difficult" is a story I used to use to torture myself in their name.
I hope, for your sake, that you don't still believe in "difficult" clients.
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
May 18, 2010
The Arrogance of Not Knowing
At a certain point in your inquiry practice, you will undoubtedly come to recognize the arrogance behind the words "I know." However, the opposite stance can be just as arrogant: "I can't know anything! (And its mostly unspoken implication, "Therefore you can't know anything either.")
In this way, "I don't know" becomes as much of a religion as "I know." This is pure dogma and has little if anything to do with the process of inquiry or any real understanding that comes of it.
There can be great freedom in realizing that there isn't too much we can know for sure, particularly when it comes to stressful, limiting assumptions we have made all of our lives. It's when we want to impose I-Don't-Knowism on the rest of the world that it becomes yet another prison...and a very oppressive one at that.
Proselytizers from The Holy Church of I-Don't-Know may come across in the following ways—but only for our highest good, of course. Is this you? (It's been me at times, for sure!):
1. Facilitating others when they haven't asked for it.
Human Being with Human Reactions: I have a headache.
Devotee of I-Don't-Knowism: Is that true?
Human Being: Yes, it's true. My head is pounding. I shouldn't have had beer and pizza last night.
Devotee: Oh really? "You shouldn't have had beer and pizza." I would soooo question that. Does that belief bring peace or stress into your life?
2. Nondual One-upmanship.
Human Being: Wow, I just heard on the news that 108,000,000 people died in Squatslavia today when a 12.0 earthquake, a tsunami, and wildfires demolished the entire country.
Devotee: I don't see a problem. Could it be that this is for their highest good? I can't know what's best for the Squatslavians. Or for the world. Or even for myself. How do I know the world is supposed to self-destruct? It's self-destructing; that's reality.
3. Being non-committal in the name of enlightenment.
Human Being: Will you marry me?
Devotee: In this moment it's a "yes," and "mind" might change itself. I love you with all my heart, and I can't know how I'm going to feel five minutes from now, and either way, it's not personal. So it would be out of my integrity to say yes. Or no.
Human Being: Well, I don't know what to do now. Do we make plans for our wedding, or what?
Devotee: (Insert favorite Ramana Maharshi-ish or Nisargadatta-esque "we are not the doers" statement here.)
If you think I am exaggerating, you haven't hung out on social media recently. Sometimes people are sort-of kidding (you can tell if they put a little smiley face next to what they wrote) but often this is in all seriousness. Not surprisingly, the "conversion" rate is not terrifically high and no wonder; there's no meeting people where they are in this kind of "communication."
At the end of her workshops, Byron Katie often says, "Want to alienate your friends and family? Talk to them like this: [Putting on an obnoxious voice:] 'Is that truuuue? Turn it aroooouuuund!'"
This always gets a big laugh, Then darned if many of us don't go home and do it! (Been there, done that, and I apologize! Ugh!!!)
In contrast, those who live out of their realizations and don't teach/preach frequently are asked by those who knew them "when," "You seem terrific, what are you doing these days? Did you fall in love or something?"
If you can answer that with a simple "yes" or "no," then sign me up.
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
In this way, "I don't know" becomes as much of a religion as "I know." This is pure dogma and has little if anything to do with the process of inquiry or any real understanding that comes of it.
There can be great freedom in realizing that there isn't too much we can know for sure, particularly when it comes to stressful, limiting assumptions we have made all of our lives. It's when we want to impose I-Don't-Knowism on the rest of the world that it becomes yet another prison...and a very oppressive one at that.
Proselytizers from The Holy Church of I-Don't-Know may come across in the following ways—but only for our highest good, of course. Is this you? (It's been me at times, for sure!):
1. Facilitating others when they haven't asked for it.
Human Being with Human Reactions: I have a headache.
Devotee of I-Don't-Knowism: Is that true?
Human Being: Yes, it's true. My head is pounding. I shouldn't have had beer and pizza last night.
Devotee: Oh really? "You shouldn't have had beer and pizza." I would soooo question that. Does that belief bring peace or stress into your life?
2. Nondual One-upmanship.
Human Being: Wow, I just heard on the news that 108,000,000 people died in Squatslavia today when a 12.0 earthquake, a tsunami, and wildfires demolished the entire country.
Devotee: I don't see a problem. Could it be that this is for their highest good? I can't know what's best for the Squatslavians. Or for the world. Or even for myself. How do I know the world is supposed to self-destruct? It's self-destructing; that's reality.
3. Being non-committal in the name of enlightenment.
Human Being: Will you marry me?
Devotee: In this moment it's a "yes," and "mind" might change itself. I love you with all my heart, and I can't know how I'm going to feel five minutes from now, and either way, it's not personal. So it would be out of my integrity to say yes. Or no.
Human Being: Well, I don't know what to do now. Do we make plans for our wedding, or what?
Devotee: (Insert favorite Ramana Maharshi-ish or Nisargadatta-esque "we are not the doers" statement here.)
If you think I am exaggerating, you haven't hung out on social media recently. Sometimes people are sort-of kidding (you can tell if they put a little smiley face next to what they wrote) but often this is in all seriousness. Not surprisingly, the "conversion" rate is not terrifically high and no wonder; there's no meeting people where they are in this kind of "communication."
At the end of her workshops, Byron Katie often says, "Want to alienate your friends and family? Talk to them like this: [Putting on an obnoxious voice:] 'Is that truuuue? Turn it aroooouuuund!'"
This always gets a big laugh, Then darned if many of us don't go home and do it! (Been there, done that, and I apologize! Ugh!!!)
In contrast, those who live out of their realizations and don't teach/preach frequently are asked by those who knew them "when," "You seem terrific, what are you doing these days? Did you fall in love or something?"
If you can answer that with a simple "yes" or "no," then sign me up.
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
February 17, 2010
Ask a Facilitator Anything!
How Much Time Should I Take for The Work?
Q: How often do you suggest someone do The Work? It takes me about 12-20 minutes to question one belief out of maybe 20-30 beliefs on the Judge-Your-Neighbor Worksheet.
A: How much time would you put aside for a daily meditation practice, or for exercise? I see doing The Work as very similar to doing these other things; you don't want to exhaust yourself, but the more regularly you work at inquiry, the more "muscle" you'll develop.
That said, I think the amount of time you set aside isn't as important as making space for it in your day. If you're new to inquiry, you might want to do it every day at first. Twenty minutes could be long enough; an hour is great if you find it's helping you to sit with the questions longer. In session with a client, we work for an hour, sometimes an hour and a half. The important thing is to routinely question your stressful beliefs so that you begin to experience the effects of inquiry when you are not actively doing it.
When I was learning how to do The Work, I used to spend a couple of hours every day...but that's because I was in a big hurry to fix myself! I soon burnt myself out (and also I came to see that The Work is not a "fix," it's a way to develop and expand awareness). Later on, I spent maybe 20 or 30 minutes a day doing actual writing, then it became a few times a week or less, or as needed. The mechanism of inquiry was alive in me by that time so I didn't always have to write everything down. When I found myself letting myself take shortcuts, I went back to writing.
From time to time I go back to doing The Work every day, but mostly I use it when I feel confused or upset with no relief, or when I am particularly curious about why someone or something is troubling me, or when a stressful concept I thought I was done with feels sticky once again. If I have a worksheet with a lot of thoughts I want to look at, I might spread it out over several days.
Everyone is different and you may find you want to spend more or less time in inquiry than others.
Can't I Have Wants and Needs?
Q: I just started reading Katie's books and I'm wondering what happens when someone truly is dissatisfied with their situation and wants to leave. When is it appropriate to have boundaries? Or is it just about finding peace in whatever situation you're in and accepting people for who they are? Can't I have wants and needs? For example, I accept my husband for not being expressive and demonstrative; does that mean I shouldn't want to leave him? If he doesn't put any time into the relationship, should I just accept that?
A: If I know I need to leave a situation, I leave it! The key word here is "know." Accepting and finding peace in a challenging relationship does not mean you have to stay there. And I will ask myself: can I know I need to leave, or am I really wanting to stay while (hopelessly) hoping my partner will change?
I'm all for having needs and wants and for being very clear about what they are. If I want someone to fulfill those needs and wants for me, that's a recipe for disappointment and resentment. If I want a demonstrative, expressive partner, for example, and my partner is not demonstrative and expressive, whether I stay or go depends on how badly I truly want that and whether I'd rather be with him than not.
Is it true that you accept your husband? Here's where acceptance comes from: question beliefs like, "My husband should be expressive" and "He doesn't put any time into the relationship." Doing so puts you back in touch with what's true for you. Acceptance is acceptance of the truth; acceptance doesn't mean you shortchange yourself.
If you know it's time to leave, what stressful thoughts keep you from doing so? (Fears, "shoulds," etc.) If you know you want to stay, what stressful thoughts keep you from loving your relationship? (Write a worksheet on your husband and find out!)
Never A Reason to Break Up?
Q: It seems there would never be a reason to break up with a partner, because if we do The Work, we would find a turnaround for every criticism pointing back to ourselves. What am I not getting/seeing here?
A: There could be many reasons to break up with a partner, including simply knowing that it's time to go. Relationships run their course. We change our minds. Our lives and our priorities change. We don't have to vilify the other person in order to leave them...and we don't have to stay just because we've discovered our criticisms of them could easily be directed at ourselves.
Why do you walk down one street rather than another one? Does it have to mean that one street is better than the other street? Maybe you're in a hurry today and it takes a little less time to walk down the street you are choosing, or there's a lovely tree there that you like to look at, or you simply enjoy a change of scene. You're not a terrible person for having preferences! There's a street I avoid because it is hilly and when I come back from the store carrying packages, I prefer not to climb uphill. I don't say "This street is too hilly, turn it around: I am too hilly. Uh oh, I'd better keep walking on the hilly street because otherwise it means I don't love what is!"
When we do turnarounds in The Work, it's not meant to talk us into or out of anything; it's simply a way to expand awareness. I can't emphasize this point enough: turnarounds show us peaceful alternatives that we may not have seen. They point to what else could be as true or truer in this vast universe of choices. They show us where we have been mistaken, where we might want to loosen our grip, create more freedom in our lives, heal ourselves and make amends to those we might have hurt.
If, when judging your partner, you have a "negative" turnaround to yourself—for example, "He's inconsiderate." "I'm inconsiderate."—it doesn't mean you have to stay with him because you've been inconsiderate. This turnaround is pointing to, "Where have I been inconsiderate of him?" Perhaps by wanting him to change for your sake...and maybe he can't do that. It could be that this is a wonderful man who is not your wonderful man; you've been confused about that. Now you can do right by him and stop the violence (to yourself as well as to him) of wishing he were different.
If you stay, questioning your thoughts will help you stay with love, including self-love. If you go, it could be the most loving thing you can do...without resentment or blame.
At first I wanted to stop seeing a man I was dating because HE did this and HE did (or didn't do) that. My friends were saying, "Oh, you've got to end it, HE's a this, HE's a that, you deserve much better. (Friends just love to take our side when we're going through relationship stuff, as if there were an enemy against whom we need defending.) While I appreciated their support, seeing the man as a dastardly fiend didn't actually make me feel better, nor did it make it any easier for me to tell him I was done.
I got clear that what was going on between us was mostly going on between my ears; old beliefs that prevented me from letting myself know what I knew, that pulled me out of my own integrity. The "negative" turnarounds, such as "he lied to me"/"I lied to him"/"I lied to myself" rang very true and they did not feel like I was whipping myself. When I finally told him it wasn't working out for me, never implying that he (or I) did anything wrong or that he wasn't good enough for me, he said he had never been "dumped" so nicely before and hoped we would stay friends. I feel closer to him now than when I was trying to "accept" him.
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
Q: How often do you suggest someone do The Work? It takes me about 12-20 minutes to question one belief out of maybe 20-30 beliefs on the Judge-Your-Neighbor Worksheet.
A: How much time would you put aside for a daily meditation practice, or for exercise? I see doing The Work as very similar to doing these other things; you don't want to exhaust yourself, but the more regularly you work at inquiry, the more "muscle" you'll develop.
That said, I think the amount of time you set aside isn't as important as making space for it in your day. If you're new to inquiry, you might want to do it every day at first. Twenty minutes could be long enough; an hour is great if you find it's helping you to sit with the questions longer. In session with a client, we work for an hour, sometimes an hour and a half. The important thing is to routinely question your stressful beliefs so that you begin to experience the effects of inquiry when you are not actively doing it.
When I was learning how to do The Work, I used to spend a couple of hours every day...but that's because I was in a big hurry to fix myself! I soon burnt myself out (and also I came to see that The Work is not a "fix," it's a way to develop and expand awareness). Later on, I spent maybe 20 or 30 minutes a day doing actual writing, then it became a few times a week or less, or as needed. The mechanism of inquiry was alive in me by that time so I didn't always have to write everything down. When I found myself letting myself take shortcuts, I went back to writing.
From time to time I go back to doing The Work every day, but mostly I use it when I feel confused or upset with no relief, or when I am particularly curious about why someone or something is troubling me, or when a stressful concept I thought I was done with feels sticky once again. If I have a worksheet with a lot of thoughts I want to look at, I might spread it out over several days.
Everyone is different and you may find you want to spend more or less time in inquiry than others.
Can't I Have Wants and Needs?
Q: I just started reading Katie's books and I'm wondering what happens when someone truly is dissatisfied with their situation and wants to leave. When is it appropriate to have boundaries? Or is it just about finding peace in whatever situation you're in and accepting people for who they are? Can't I have wants and needs? For example, I accept my husband for not being expressive and demonstrative; does that mean I shouldn't want to leave him? If he doesn't put any time into the relationship, should I just accept that?
A: If I know I need to leave a situation, I leave it! The key word here is "know." Accepting and finding peace in a challenging relationship does not mean you have to stay there. And I will ask myself: can I know I need to leave, or am I really wanting to stay while (hopelessly) hoping my partner will change?
I'm all for having needs and wants and for being very clear about what they are. If I want someone to fulfill those needs and wants for me, that's a recipe for disappointment and resentment. If I want a demonstrative, expressive partner, for example, and my partner is not demonstrative and expressive, whether I stay or go depends on how badly I truly want that and whether I'd rather be with him than not.
Is it true that you accept your husband? Here's where acceptance comes from: question beliefs like, "My husband should be expressive" and "He doesn't put any time into the relationship." Doing so puts you back in touch with what's true for you. Acceptance is acceptance of the truth; acceptance doesn't mean you shortchange yourself.
If you know it's time to leave, what stressful thoughts keep you from doing so? (Fears, "shoulds," etc.) If you know you want to stay, what stressful thoughts keep you from loving your relationship? (Write a worksheet on your husband and find out!)
Never A Reason to Break Up?
Q: It seems there would never be a reason to break up with a partner, because if we do The Work, we would find a turnaround for every criticism pointing back to ourselves. What am I not getting/seeing here?
A: There could be many reasons to break up with a partner, including simply knowing that it's time to go. Relationships run their course. We change our minds. Our lives and our priorities change. We don't have to vilify the other person in order to leave them...and we don't have to stay just because we've discovered our criticisms of them could easily be directed at ourselves.
Why do you walk down one street rather than another one? Does it have to mean that one street is better than the other street? Maybe you're in a hurry today and it takes a little less time to walk down the street you are choosing, or there's a lovely tree there that you like to look at, or you simply enjoy a change of scene. You're not a terrible person for having preferences! There's a street I avoid because it is hilly and when I come back from the store carrying packages, I prefer not to climb uphill. I don't say "This street is too hilly, turn it around: I am too hilly. Uh oh, I'd better keep walking on the hilly street because otherwise it means I don't love what is!"
When we do turnarounds in The Work, it's not meant to talk us into or out of anything; it's simply a way to expand awareness. I can't emphasize this point enough: turnarounds show us peaceful alternatives that we may not have seen. They point to what else could be as true or truer in this vast universe of choices. They show us where we have been mistaken, where we might want to loosen our grip, create more freedom in our lives, heal ourselves and make amends to those we might have hurt.
If, when judging your partner, you have a "negative" turnaround to yourself—for example, "He's inconsiderate." "I'm inconsiderate."—it doesn't mean you have to stay with him because you've been inconsiderate. This turnaround is pointing to, "Where have I been inconsiderate of him?" Perhaps by wanting him to change for your sake...and maybe he can't do that. It could be that this is a wonderful man who is not your wonderful man; you've been confused about that. Now you can do right by him and stop the violence (to yourself as well as to him) of wishing he were different.
If you stay, questioning your thoughts will help you stay with love, including self-love. If you go, it could be the most loving thing you can do...without resentment or blame.
At first I wanted to stop seeing a man I was dating because HE did this and HE did (or didn't do) that. My friends were saying, "Oh, you've got to end it, HE's a this, HE's a that, you deserve much better. (Friends just love to take our side when we're going through relationship stuff, as if there were an enemy against whom we need defending.) While I appreciated their support, seeing the man as a dastardly fiend didn't actually make me feel better, nor did it make it any easier for me to tell him I was done.
I got clear that what was going on between us was mostly going on between my ears; old beliefs that prevented me from letting myself know what I knew, that pulled me out of my own integrity. The "negative" turnarounds, such as "he lied to me"/"I lied to him"/"I lied to myself" rang very true and they did not feel like I was whipping myself. When I finally told him it wasn't working out for me, never implying that he (or I) did anything wrong or that he wasn't good enough for me, he said he had never been "dumped" so nicely before and hoped we would stay friends. I feel closer to him now than when I was trying to "accept" him.
©2010 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
February 4, 2010
Forgive My Innocence
Today, which was a melancholy day for me, I feel moved to share this poem by the New England writer and Pulitzer prize-winning poet, Robert P. Tristram Coffin. Coffin, who died in 1955, published dozens of books of poetry and prose in his lifetime and was widely anthologized. Though now his work is largely forgotten, I never forgot these powerful words of confession and amends, which I first encountered at age 12; they never fail to bring tears to my eyes.
Whenever I feel irredeemable, I think of Coffin's poem and I just know that anyone who regrets their actions as deeply and sincerely as he did is instantly forgiven in the moment of asking. As he shares his heart, I see not his sin, not his guilt, but his innocence.
Recognizing this in myself is another matter; I'm working on it.
"Forgive My Guilt"
by Robert P. Tristram Coffin
Not always sure what things called sins may be,
I am sure of one sin I have done,
It was years ago, and I was a boy,
I lay in the frostflowers with a gun,
The air ran blue as the flowers, I held my breath,
Two birds on golden legs slim as dream things
Ran like quicksilver on the golden sand,
My gun went off, they ran with broken wings
Into the sea, I ran to fetch them in,
But they swam with their heads high out to sea,
They cried like two sorrowful high flutes,
With jagged ivory bones where wings should be.
For days I heard them when I walked that headland
Crying out to their kind in the blue,
The other plovers were going over south
On silver wings leaving these broken two.
The cries went out one day; but I still hear them
Over all the sounds of sorrow in war or peace
I ever heard, time cannot drown them,
Those slender flutes of sorrow never cease.
Two airy things forever denied the air!
I never knew how their lives at last were spilt,
But I have hoped for years all that is wild,
Airy, and beautiful will forgive my guilt.
Whenever I feel irredeemable, I think of Coffin's poem and I just know that anyone who regrets their actions as deeply and sincerely as he did is instantly forgiven in the moment of asking. As he shares his heart, I see not his sin, not his guilt, but his innocence.
Recognizing this in myself is another matter; I'm working on it.
"Forgive My Guilt"
by Robert P. Tristram Coffin
Not always sure what things called sins may be,
I am sure of one sin I have done,
It was years ago, and I was a boy,
I lay in the frostflowers with a gun,
The air ran blue as the flowers, I held my breath,
Two birds on golden legs slim as dream things
Ran like quicksilver on the golden sand,
My gun went off, they ran with broken wings
Into the sea, I ran to fetch them in,
But they swam with their heads high out to sea,
They cried like two sorrowful high flutes,
With jagged ivory bones where wings should be.
For days I heard them when I walked that headland
Crying out to their kind in the blue,
The other plovers were going over south
On silver wings leaving these broken two.
The cries went out one day; but I still hear them
Over all the sounds of sorrow in war or peace
I ever heard, time cannot drown them,
Those slender flutes of sorrow never cease.
Two airy things forever denied the air!
I never knew how their lives at last were spilt,
But I have hoped for years all that is wild,
Airy, and beautiful will forgive my guilt.
November 30, 2009
"So Don't Do That!"
There's an old Henny Youngman joke that I love: "I said to my doctor, it hurts when I do that [he lifts his arm]; he told me 'So don't do that!'"
As a facilitator, my "Don't do that!" for people who do self-inquiry is, "Don't use The Work as a way to beat yourself or others."
Here's an example; a quote from Byron Katie that gets misinterpreted, in my not-so-humble opinion:
"If I see an enemy, I need to take another look because that is my friend, not my enemy. Enemies enlighten me to myself; that makes them friends."
Some use this teaching as a way to make themselves wrong, bad and delusional if they aren't always open to or in agreement with another's criticism or if they can't shrug off slights or abuse with "it's all good." Please don't do that. Self-flagellation is not inquiry. Offering yourself up as a human sacrifice is not inquiry. Do your work, find ways that turnarounds can be as true or truer but not "instead of"—include everything. Finding your part in a situation is not making yourself wrong. It doesn't mean that you become a doormat. It means that you have ceased to be a victim of black-and-white thinking. And just because your enemies are your "friends" doesn't mean that you have to live with them, do business with them, never take legal action or stop locking your front door.
Others use this teaching as an excuse to behave badly. "It can never be my fault that you're upset. You're just angry because you didn't get what you want. I'm free, you're the one with the problem." Please don't do that either; it's using The Work as a shield and a weapon rather than a tool with which to discover your own truth. This is not inquiry, it's new age bull-dinky. Again, do your work, find your part, enlighten yourself. Fear of being wrong or of being blamed is natural...and it also comes from collusion. If they say you're wrong and bad, and it hurts, they're right...but only according to you.
So don't do that!
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
As a facilitator, my "Don't do that!" for people who do self-inquiry is, "Don't use The Work as a way to beat yourself or others."
Here's an example; a quote from Byron Katie that gets misinterpreted, in my not-so-humble opinion:
"If I see an enemy, I need to take another look because that is my friend, not my enemy. Enemies enlighten me to myself; that makes them friends."
Some use this teaching as a way to make themselves wrong, bad and delusional if they aren't always open to or in agreement with another's criticism or if they can't shrug off slights or abuse with "it's all good." Please don't do that. Self-flagellation is not inquiry. Offering yourself up as a human sacrifice is not inquiry. Do your work, find ways that turnarounds can be as true or truer but not "instead of"—include everything. Finding your part in a situation is not making yourself wrong. It doesn't mean that you become a doormat. It means that you have ceased to be a victim of black-and-white thinking. And just because your enemies are your "friends" doesn't mean that you have to live with them, do business with them, never take legal action or stop locking your front door.
Others use this teaching as an excuse to behave badly. "It can never be my fault that you're upset. You're just angry because you didn't get what you want. I'm free, you're the one with the problem." Please don't do that either; it's using The Work as a shield and a weapon rather than a tool with which to discover your own truth. This is not inquiry, it's new age bull-dinky. Again, do your work, find your part, enlighten yourself. Fear of being wrong or of being blamed is natural...and it also comes from collusion. If they say you're wrong and bad, and it hurts, they're right...but only according to you.
So don't do that!
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
October 18, 2009
Why We Believe, Part 4: The "Dr. Phil" Question
Sometimes we just love our beliefs because we are convinced they are working for us, evidence to the contrary. Let's look once again at the belief, "My husband shouldn't have affairs." The client says that if she didn't believe this thought, it would be akin to condoning her husband's affairs. Therefore, he would only continue to have affairs, and she'd be a doormat.
Now for the "big duh" question: Does this thought bring peace or stress into your life? The client is aware that this is a stressful belief and yet she can't make herself not believe what she beliefs...which is as it should be.
I ask the question, "Why do you hold this stressful belief; how is it serving you?" This is a nicer, and more thoughtful, way of asking the famous Dr. Phil question, "How's that workin' for ya?"
Is the thought "My husband shouldn't have affairs" doing the job my client wants it to do?
It's not preventing her from feeling like a doormat right now, never mind the future.
It certainly isn't giving her any control over her husband's behavior.
It isn't providing her with a roadmap to the future.
It's not protecting her, because she's still married to a philandering husband.
So, while the core beliefs underlying this one—the ones about relationships being sacred and people shouldn't cheat on their spouses—may have served this woman in the past, it doesn't look like they are serving her very well now, except to hold that stance of "I'm right, you're wrong" with a husband whose behavior she is tacitly condoning for now. That's enough for some people. Those people don't bring this particular belief to inquiry.
"Is there a peaceful reason to keep this thought?" The client can't find one and is now ready to move to question four, "Who would you be without this thought?"
What she finds is, as a woman whose husband is having affairs in reality, she can be in charge of her own life (which is what she wanted frim the belief, and couldn't get from it). She is free to stay or to go, to discuss the situation rationally with her husband (whether or not he is rational is none of her business and, again, not something she can micro-manage). She can state her needs and observations without shame and blame (instead of "You cheating #(*$@(*&!!, how dare you? You are dishonest, you don't love me, you want to hurt me, you broke our vows, this marriage is based on a lie!"
Instead, her conversation with him might begin with "I am aware that you are having sex outside of our marriage. I value fidelity and honesty in intimate relationships. I want to stay married to you and I don't know if I can if you are not going to be monogamous. Would you be willing to discuss what's going on for you and how we can move on from here?"
Try asking "How does this stressful belief serve you?" the next time you hit a sticky one...and let me know how it's workin' for ya.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
Now for the "big duh" question: Does this thought bring peace or stress into your life? The client is aware that this is a stressful belief and yet she can't make herself not believe what she beliefs...which is as it should be.
I ask the question, "Why do you hold this stressful belief; how is it serving you?" This is a nicer, and more thoughtful, way of asking the famous Dr. Phil question, "How's that workin' for ya?"
Is the thought "My husband shouldn't have affairs" doing the job my client wants it to do?
It's not preventing her from feeling like a doormat right now, never mind the future.
It certainly isn't giving her any control over her husband's behavior.
It isn't providing her with a roadmap to the future.
It's not protecting her, because she's still married to a philandering husband.
So, while the core beliefs underlying this one—the ones about relationships being sacred and people shouldn't cheat on their spouses—may have served this woman in the past, it doesn't look like they are serving her very well now, except to hold that stance of "I'm right, you're wrong" with a husband whose behavior she is tacitly condoning for now. That's enough for some people. Those people don't bring this particular belief to inquiry.
"Is there a peaceful reason to keep this thought?" The client can't find one and is now ready to move to question four, "Who would you be without this thought?"
What she finds is, as a woman whose husband is having affairs in reality, she can be in charge of her own life (which is what she wanted frim the belief, and couldn't get from it). She is free to stay or to go, to discuss the situation rationally with her husband (whether or not he is rational is none of her business and, again, not something she can micro-manage). She can state her needs and observations without shame and blame (instead of "You cheating #(*$@(*&!!, how dare you? You are dishonest, you don't love me, you want to hurt me, you broke our vows, this marriage is based on a lie!"
Instead, her conversation with him might begin with "I am aware that you are having sex outside of our marriage. I value fidelity and honesty in intimate relationships. I want to stay married to you and I don't know if I can if you are not going to be monogamous. Would you be willing to discuss what's going on for you and how we can move on from here?"
Try asking "How does this stressful belief serve you?" the next time you hit a sticky one...and let me know how it's workin' for ya.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
October 14, 2009
Why We Believe, Part 3: Unmet Needs, or a Tantrum?
Our reasons (which are sometimes motives) for keeping a stressful belief can also be seen as a list of unmet needs: "I need to be right." "I need to be in control." "I need a purpose." "I need you to listen to me."
It's not a problem to have needs; it's fine to find ways to fulfill them. It's only a problem when we expect that the world will meet our needs when there is overwhelming evidence to the contrary that this isn't going to happen. That's when you know that you're not experiencing the stress of an unmet need; you're throwing an inner tantrum.
Fighting with reality in the form of attachment to stressful beliefs that do not serve you (or no longer serve you) can never fulfill our needs. Identifying our needs (as opposed to our desires) is the first step towards understanding the source of a problem, as well as the first step towards the fulfillment of our needs.
Byron Katie likes to say that fighting with reality is about as effective as trying to teach a cat to bark. If you want a barking animal, how much easier would it be to simply get a dog! (Or, if you're allergic to dogs, a burglar alarm. Need fulfilled, cat off the hook!)
This has evolved into a cliche among people who do The Work: "How do I know I don't need ____? I don't have it, and I'm still breathing." That's true, but for most of us, it's not so easy to shrug off a perceived need with a "Katie-ism." We have to see it for ourselves. Still, the word "need" can be problematical.
I give workshops with a teacher of Nonviolent Communication who has a Buddhist background and also does The Work. In NVC, they use the term "need" a lot, especially around authentic communication of said needs. I told her that I wasn't comfortable with the word "need," as I could see where I always have what I need in the moment, that "I need" is a story of the future and therefore never real right now. She agreed that, from a Buddhist standpoint (and a Worked one), there are no real needs, so I could swap out "needs" with "values." For example, "I need connection" becomes "I value connection." That feels truer to me.
So, "I value a serene work environment," communicated peacefully, isn't "You play that stereo too loud! You should be more considerate of your neighbors!" That's a tantrum. Rather, as a practitioner of NVC, or anyone who has identified what they value, would say, "I am upstairs working and finding it difficult to concentrate. Would you be willing to lower the volume on your stereo? " This respects the needs, or values, of the person who likes loud music, without making them wrong. There's no manipulation in it; it's a request, one that may or may not result in the fulfillment of your needs.
If I've done my Work, and I'm clear that I don't need my neighbor to do what I want, and she doesn't turn down the bass, I have a choice to put on noise-reducing headphones, work somewhere else, ask her again...and not go to war with her or with my life, even if it means that eventually I will call the management company to let them know there's a noise "problem."
Next, how a TV cliche can help free us further: Part 4, The "Dr. Phil" Question.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
It's not a problem to have needs; it's fine to find ways to fulfill them. It's only a problem when we expect that the world will meet our needs when there is overwhelming evidence to the contrary that this isn't going to happen. That's when you know that you're not experiencing the stress of an unmet need; you're throwing an inner tantrum.
Fighting with reality in the form of attachment to stressful beliefs that do not serve you (or no longer serve you) can never fulfill our needs. Identifying our needs (as opposed to our desires) is the first step towards understanding the source of a problem, as well as the first step towards the fulfillment of our needs.
Byron Katie likes to say that fighting with reality is about as effective as trying to teach a cat to bark. If you want a barking animal, how much easier would it be to simply get a dog! (Or, if you're allergic to dogs, a burglar alarm. Need fulfilled, cat off the hook!)
This has evolved into a cliche among people who do The Work: "How do I know I don't need ____? I don't have it, and I'm still breathing." That's true, but for most of us, it's not so easy to shrug off a perceived need with a "Katie-ism." We have to see it for ourselves. Still, the word "need" can be problematical.
I give workshops with a teacher of Nonviolent Communication who has a Buddhist background and also does The Work. In NVC, they use the term "need" a lot, especially around authentic communication of said needs. I told her that I wasn't comfortable with the word "need," as I could see where I always have what I need in the moment, that "I need" is a story of the future and therefore never real right now. She agreed that, from a Buddhist standpoint (and a Worked one), there are no real needs, so I could swap out "needs" with "values." For example, "I need connection" becomes "I value connection." That feels truer to me.
So, "I value a serene work environment," communicated peacefully, isn't "You play that stereo too loud! You should be more considerate of your neighbors!" That's a tantrum. Rather, as a practitioner of NVC, or anyone who has identified what they value, would say, "I am upstairs working and finding it difficult to concentrate. Would you be willing to lower the volume on your stereo? " This respects the needs, or values, of the person who likes loud music, without making them wrong. There's no manipulation in it; it's a request, one that may or may not result in the fulfillment of your needs.
If I've done my Work, and I'm clear that I don't need my neighbor to do what I want, and she doesn't turn down the bass, I have a choice to put on noise-reducing headphones, work somewhere else, ask her again...and not go to war with her or with my life, even if it means that eventually I will call the management company to let them know there's a noise "problem."
Next, how a TV cliche can help free us further: Part 4, The "Dr. Phil" Question.
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
September 22, 2009
Why We Believe: A New Series of Articles for Deepening Inquiry
Those of you who receive my newsletter may have noticed my Clear Life Solutions tag line, "Open your mind to a limitless life." That is an invitation to something I, as a work-in-progress, invite myself to as I invite you to it...and it is easier said than done!
As a practice for self-awareness , you won't find anything much simpler than the four basic questions and turnarounds of The Work of Byron Katie. But to say that something is simple is not to say it is easy.
It's definitely easy to ask oneself, or another, four questions. It's easy to answer questions. It's not always easy to open the mind as far as it can go, even when there is willingness. It's tempting to do The Work on the surface, to give obvious or easy answers, or to say, "Well, I've been over all this before and don't need to go there again." These are ways that I myself have let myself get away with crumbs and prevented myself from doing the real work of The Work.
Stressful beliefs can have incredible depth, which can, in turn, prevent us from fearlessly exploring and releasing ourselves from painful or limiting concepts that no longer serve us.
In a new series of articles on the Soul Surgery blog, I will explore the nature of belief—specifically why we tend to believe troublesome thoughts, even when we know they are troublesome. In doing so, I hope to make it easier for those of us doing The Work—whether as clients or facilitators—to untangle and loosen the tentacles of attachment to these thoughts.
As always, I invite your feedback, and your experience of deepening inquiry in your life.
You may also enjoy this post from a few years back, "What's the Payoff?"
©2009 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
As a practice for self-awareness , you won't find anything much simpler than the four basic questions and turnarounds of The Work of Byron Katie. But to say that something is simple is not to say it is easy.
It's definitely easy to ask oneself, or another, four questions. It's easy to answer questions. It's not always easy to open the mind as far as it can go, even when there is willingness. It's tempting to do The Work on the surface, to give obvious or easy answers, or to say, "Well, I've been over all this before and don't need to go there again." These are ways that I myself have let myself get away with crumbs and prevented myself from doing the real work of The Work.
Stressful beliefs can have incredible depth, which can, in turn, prevent us from fearlessly exploring and releasing ourselves from painful or limiting concepts that no longer serve us.
In a new series of articles on the Soul Surgery blog, I will explore the nature of belief—specifically why we tend to believe troublesome thoughts, even when we know they are troublesome. In doing so, I hope to make it easier for those of us doing The Work—whether as clients or facilitators—to untangle and loosen the tentacles of attachment to these thoughts.
As always, I invite your feedback, and your experience of deepening inquiry in your life.
You may also enjoy this post from a few years back, "What's the Payoff?"
©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.
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