That wascally wabbit Jamie Reynolds went and tapped me back for another game of "blog tag," albeit with another rather Workie twist. This time I was asked to name five things I love about myself. Not to boast, but when I do my work and take a time-out from my second career as a self-flagelator, there's actually quite a lot that's pretty darn cool about me. Here are a half dozen instead of five, because, as Byron Katie might say about those genuine examples of each turnaround, "If you can find five, you can find six," and so on. I invite you to do the same, especially if you are Stephanie, Annie, Nancy, Patty, and
Richard.
1. I love that I'm so entertaining. Sometimes this bites me in the butt—I've been known to get "schticky" when I'm feeling too vulnerable...and I'm working on it—but you can almost always count on me for a song, a quick and clever quip, or to leave you winded and aching from laughter after you've heard me sing "Oh What A Beautiful Morning" as Julie Andrews...or "I'm Zo Ex-zited" as Dr. Ruth Westheimer.
2. I love my willingness. Self inquiry isn't always a picnic in the park, but more often than not I am willing and often excited to upend those big rocks and find the slimy stuff beneath them. It frees me and I love that. I think I am most courageous to go to the places I go, to feel the feelings after so many years of trying to override them or stuff them down.
3. I love my writing. Don't all writers write primarily for themselves? I do...and I think it's good stuff! If I didn't, I'd never post it here. And if I didn't write for myself, I'd still be writing junk mail, or perhaps penning potboilers (under a pseudonym) for big bucks. As a youngster I wanted to be the next Rona Jaffee, but these days, though I think I could easily learn the formulas and get someone to photograph me for the dust jacket in a negligee through several layers of Vaseline, it's not in my integrity to do so. Except...it would almost be worth it to have a book called The Mistress of Arts, about a slutty Master's candidate at a prestigious university who sleeps her way to the Ph.D. (I first thought of this when I was a virginal albeit lustful Master's candidate at a prestigious university who did no such thing.)
4. I love that I have made friends with depression. No more victimhood, yippee! It has been a most interesting spiritual path, having depression as a guru...and truly I would not trade in this life for another. Transformational Inquiry: Working with Depression is soon to be a major eBook, available at clearlifesolutions.com.)
5. I love myself when I love you. I love the openness of it, the joy, the connection, the kindness and gratitude. I love the sweetness and consideration and compassion of showing up as love embodied. I am so nice to be around when I'm that way! I'm totally enjoying my own company and calling it "you." It just brings home the whole nonduality mirror thing: how could we recognize wonderfulness in another if we weren't that?
6. I love my vulnerability. Sometimes. Still working on it. I still think, at times, that I should suck it up and deal...that I shouldn't be so sensitive and take things so personally. But gosh...I get more fan letters when I open up here. And it is such a relief to be able to do that.
©2007 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
SOUL SURGERY: exercises in inquiry with Carol L. Skolnick, Coach/Facilitator ClearLifeSolutions.com
January 17, 2007
January 16, 2007
Hot Tub Facilitation: Tips for Facilitators and Coaches
Last summer, I asked someone new to The Work to facilitate me in a hotel hot tub.
She and I were alone in the Jacuzzi and while we were soaking, she introduced herself. Seeing an opening, the woman began pouring out her heart to me. She was in town to help her college-age daughter, a violent young woman who had recently dropped out of school, started hanging out with criminals and was now addicted to chrystal meth. The daughter was living with the woman's elderly parents, stealing belongings and money from them and possibly from other peoples' homes. The young woman had already threatened to kill her mother and had broken into her computer and stolen her credit card passwords; that's why her mother had moved into the hotel.
My new friend was deathly afraid her child would do something permanently self-destructive, go to prison or get herself killed. She was also a cancer patient and certain that the situation with her daughter was making her sicker.
I told her I had something that had helped me and that might help her to stay sane while dealing with her daughter. She was anxious to hear about it. As I described The Work, she nodded a lot and said she was already enlightened to what I was saying. I said that was wonderful...and since I happened to have Byron Katie's "little book" with me, would she ask me the four questions on a one-liner of mine? She was delighted to be of service. I was delighted too; I got to work on a "sticky one."
The woman was impressed by the process of The Work...so we worked a bit on how she wanted her daughter to change. She shed some tears over her turnarounds: "I want me to change." (Especially with regards to my daughter; not to be an enabler, not to be afraid.) "I want my thinking to change" — the thinking that made her ill and unable to properly help her daughter or herself. My friend took the booklet back to her room and expressed interest in Byron Katie's "Addictions" CD, which I promised to send her. Later that day she called me; she had read the little book and felt that God had sent her an angel.
I figured if having someone in a hot tub facilitate me so effectively moved The Work, taking on the client's role would be a wonderful way to involve newcomers at workshops also...as well as on the DoTheWork NetWork hotline. At an introductory program I gave at a bookstore the following September, instead of first asking for a volunteer to do The Work, I requested that someone facilitate me. It was a wonderful way both to level the field and to model the process of "client." People eagerly volunteered to be facilitated after that. This has worked so well that I have been the "client" at the start of every workshop ever since.
Coincidentally, not long afterwards, Hotline volunteers were asked to invite "newbies" to facilitate us. I had that opportunity recently with someone who is very new to The Work and who has a very quick mind. (My sister!) She didn't have a one-liner handy because her mind was filled with issues about so many things: her family, the cult she had just left, her finances. She began to tell her stories and when I requested we do The Work on one of them, she only wanted to work on herself because "I know it's all about me."
I asked the client if she would ask me the four questions first; she agreed. I worked on the one-liner “She is shallow." In this way, she saw the value of "judging your neighbor."
After some probing, we found a one-liner for the client to work on: “My sister tries to take over my life,” which we navigated rockily! She still wanted to tell her stories and to defend and "yeahbut." However, at the end of the session she said she could see that the work was valuable and that it would serve her.
The client sent me an email later that day to let me know she appreciated the opportunity both to facilitate The Work and to answer the questions. She was off to buy a copy of Loving What Is and to delve more deeply into the process.
When a new client has the opportunity to be the facilitator right away, there are multiple benefits. The client gets to observe the power of The Work when there is willingness to go deeply and find the truth. As questioners and listeners, clients quickly discover The Work's simplicity: four simple questions and a turnaround. At the same time, the facilitator is seen as someone like them, not as some "grand inquisitor" who knows something the client doesn't know. This levels the field.
How does this benefit you, the facilitator? You get a more receptive client...and a golden opportunity to do The Work yourself!
©2007 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
She and I were alone in the Jacuzzi and while we were soaking, she introduced herself. Seeing an opening, the woman began pouring out her heart to me. She was in town to help her college-age daughter, a violent young woman who had recently dropped out of school, started hanging out with criminals and was now addicted to chrystal meth. The daughter was living with the woman's elderly parents, stealing belongings and money from them and possibly from other peoples' homes. The young woman had already threatened to kill her mother and had broken into her computer and stolen her credit card passwords; that's why her mother had moved into the hotel.
My new friend was deathly afraid her child would do something permanently self-destructive, go to prison or get herself killed. She was also a cancer patient and certain that the situation with her daughter was making her sicker.
I told her I had something that had helped me and that might help her to stay sane while dealing with her daughter. She was anxious to hear about it. As I described The Work, she nodded a lot and said she was already enlightened to what I was saying. I said that was wonderful...and since I happened to have Byron Katie's "little book" with me, would she ask me the four questions on a one-liner of mine? She was delighted to be of service. I was delighted too; I got to work on a "sticky one."
The woman was impressed by the process of The Work...so we worked a bit on how she wanted her daughter to change. She shed some tears over her turnarounds: "I want me to change." (Especially with regards to my daughter; not to be an enabler, not to be afraid.) "I want my thinking to change" — the thinking that made her ill and unable to properly help her daughter or herself. My friend took the booklet back to her room and expressed interest in Byron Katie's "Addictions" CD, which I promised to send her. Later that day she called me; she had read the little book and felt that God had sent her an angel.
I figured if having someone in a hot tub facilitate me so effectively moved The Work, taking on the client's role would be a wonderful way to involve newcomers at workshops also...as well as on the DoTheWork NetWork hotline. At an introductory program I gave at a bookstore the following September, instead of first asking for a volunteer to do The Work, I requested that someone facilitate me. It was a wonderful way both to level the field and to model the process of "client." People eagerly volunteered to be facilitated after that. This has worked so well that I have been the "client" at the start of every workshop ever since.
Coincidentally, not long afterwards, Hotline volunteers were asked to invite "newbies" to facilitate us. I had that opportunity recently with someone who is very new to The Work and who has a very quick mind. (My sister!) She didn't have a one-liner handy because her mind was filled with issues about so many things: her family, the cult she had just left, her finances. She began to tell her stories and when I requested we do The Work on one of them, she only wanted to work on herself because "I know it's all about me."
I asked the client if she would ask me the four questions first; she agreed. I worked on the one-liner “She is shallow." In this way, she saw the value of "judging your neighbor."
After some probing, we found a one-liner for the client to work on: “My sister tries to take over my life,” which we navigated rockily! She still wanted to tell her stories and to defend and "yeahbut." However, at the end of the session she said she could see that the work was valuable and that it would serve her.
The client sent me an email later that day to let me know she appreciated the opportunity both to facilitate The Work and to answer the questions. She was off to buy a copy of Loving What Is and to delve more deeply into the process.
When a new client has the opportunity to be the facilitator right away, there are multiple benefits. The client gets to observe the power of The Work when there is willingness to go deeply and find the truth. As questioners and listeners, clients quickly discover The Work's simplicity: four simple questions and a turnaround. At the same time, the facilitator is seen as someone like them, not as some "grand inquisitor" who knows something the client doesn't know. This levels the field.
How does this benefit you, the facilitator? You get a more receptive client...and a golden opportunity to do The Work yourself!
©2007 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
January 13, 2007
Do You Need Trust?
"Trust what is. Resist it—terror!"
—Byron Katie
What if:
You have never been used.
You have never been abused.
You have never been betrayed.
No one has ever lied to you.
No one has ever taken anything from you that you needed.
No one has ever left you.
No one has ever hurt you.
You have everything you need in every moment.
You never made a mistake.
All is well.
"Trust" in our language usually means, "I have every confidence that you will do what I want." It's a nice fantasy; if you believe it, I have a bridge in Brooklyn you might like to buy.
Do you trust God, the Universe, the All-That-Is? Really? Deeply look within. Ask yourself if you still trust the Universe when your stockbroker makes off with all your money or when a hurricane destroys your home. God is everything but not your stockbroker? Not hurricanes? Could it be that God's busy and created crooked businesspeople and earthquakes and tsunamis to show you that you didn't need all that money or a home or your kids?
Radical, isn't it? Who wants to think about these things? I didn't. And in recent years I've had to. I hired that stockbroker. I lost loved ones...we all have. We've all seen the footage of war and natural disaster in the past few years. Some of us were there. For months I couldn't get the smell of 9/11 out of my nose.
Why should we trust? One reason: for our own sake. Trust is not about "other."
True trust is the knowledge that what's here now is perfect, appropriate, just and exactly what you need at exactly the right time. (Even if all that changes five seconds from now.) Byron Katie says, "What's fair is what is." If you don't believe it, look at your life. Look at your bank balance. Look at the world. Try arguing with it. Does it change because you argue? Does the wind change direction when you say so?
Are any of us lovers of what is? Not I. Not yet. But sometimes, yes. That love comes from trust. That trust is not a given. It's not particularly "spiritual" as it requires no faith...only presence. It is a gentle and true state of being. For me, it has come out of inquiry.
In this new year, are you willing to really go for it?
What if nothing terrible has ever happened or ever will?
What if the perfect life you've been resolving to have is here now?
"Expectation is premeditated disappointment."
—Byron Katie
©2007 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
Register here for the January 2007 teleclass series "Transformational
Inquiry: Your New Year's Revolutions"
—Byron Katie
What if:
You have never been used.
You have never been abused.
You have never been betrayed.
No one has ever lied to you.
No one has ever taken anything from you that you needed.
No one has ever left you.
No one has ever hurt you.
You have everything you need in every moment.
You never made a mistake.
All is well.
"Trust" in our language usually means, "I have every confidence that you will do what I want." It's a nice fantasy; if you believe it, I have a bridge in Brooklyn you might like to buy.
Do you trust God, the Universe, the All-That-Is? Really? Deeply look within. Ask yourself if you still trust the Universe when your stockbroker makes off with all your money or when a hurricane destroys your home. God is everything but not your stockbroker? Not hurricanes? Could it be that God's busy and created crooked businesspeople and earthquakes and tsunamis to show you that you didn't need all that money or a home or your kids?
Radical, isn't it? Who wants to think about these things? I didn't. And in recent years I've had to. I hired that stockbroker. I lost loved ones...we all have. We've all seen the footage of war and natural disaster in the past few years. Some of us were there. For months I couldn't get the smell of 9/11 out of my nose.
Why should we trust? One reason: for our own sake. Trust is not about "other."
True trust is the knowledge that what's here now is perfect, appropriate, just and exactly what you need at exactly the right time. (Even if all that changes five seconds from now.) Byron Katie says, "What's fair is what is." If you don't believe it, look at your life. Look at your bank balance. Look at the world. Try arguing with it. Does it change because you argue? Does the wind change direction when you say so?
Are any of us lovers of what is? Not I. Not yet. But sometimes, yes. That love comes from trust. That trust is not a given. It's not particularly "spiritual" as it requires no faith...only presence. It is a gentle and true state of being. For me, it has come out of inquiry.
In this new year, are you willing to really go for it?
What if nothing terrible has ever happened or ever will?
What if the perfect life you've been resolving to have is here now?
"Expectation is premeditated disappointment."
—Byron Katie
©2007 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
Register here for the January 2007 teleclass series "Transformational
Inquiry: Your New Year's Revolutions"
January 10, 2007
Four Agreements...or Just One?
Don Miguel Ruiz's book The Four Agreements is a distillation of life lessons the author learned on the path of self-inquiry. Like so many wise teachers--and like many of us--it took a catastrophe in don Miguel's life to get him to look within...and he did so within the tradition of his Toltec ancestors. His conclusions are remarkably similar to those of the Eastern nondual teachings and as such are not dissimilar to those reached through Byron Katie's Work.
Don Miguel tells us that unhappiness comes from our clinging to old agreements made under the influence of outmoded beliefs and that the key to a happy life is to make four new agreements: be impeccable with your word; don't take anything personally; don't make assumptions; always do your best.
The third agreement, "don't make assumptions," resonated within me in a way the other three agreements did not. Indeed, the book's cover copy asserts, "With just this one agreement, you can completely transform your life." Here, don Miguel gives a wonderful explanation of what we do to ourselves when we attach to thoughts that are not true for us. (Sound familiar? Hint: Question 3 of The Work: "How do you react when you believe that thought?") The way to stop making assumptions, says don Miguel, is to question our thoughts...because it is human nature to automatically assume that every belief we hear is the truth, even if the source of the belief is gossip. Good information, although like so many other authors of spiritual guidebooks, don Miguel does not share in his book the process of self-inquiry that helped him to stop believing his assumptions; he just tells us to stop. And if you've ever tried to stop believing what you believe, you know it's not so easy.
It's because we haven't known how to "ask us" that Byron Katie gives us what she received...the simple inquiry mechanics of four questions and a turnaround. We might say that "ask you" is the "One Agreement" of Katie's Work. Even the thought "I should stop making assumptions" can be questioned. People make assumptions; that's our nature. To say, "don't" doesn't stop this from being so. It's an assumption to say that I should not make assumptions!
Once we do the simple work of noticing and questioning for awhile, inquiry comes alive in us. We still make assumptions, but assumptions no longer make us. The "don't know" mind that results from inquiry cannot continue to create a world based on uninvestigated beliefs. Once we notice how these beliefs affect our minds and our behavior, the code of conduct prescribed by don Miguel comes naturally because it feels more peaceful.
With The Work, our word becomes impeccable because we have questioned our motives before speaking. We take things less personally because in the oneness that results from losing our stressful stories, we realize that nothing is personal. When we question what we believe, we can see that everyone--ourselves included--is always doing the best he or she can in the moment.
And we assume that none of this is true...until it is.
Deepening Transformational Inquiry: One Agreement
Here's a gentle agreement to make with yourself in the new year: "I invite deeper awareness in my life." Exciting! Who knows what that will look like? It might mean that you'll take time to smell the flowers, taste your food, notice the color of the sky, feel the support of your chair, or revel in the soft texture of your clothing. It could mean that you listen literally to what your children or partner or boss is telling you, experiencing true intimacy with them for the first time as you discover that their opinions and criticisms and desires are not personal to you. Perhaps it means you will be open to sit with your feelings and actually feel them, rather than stuff them down with food or cigarettes or affirmations meant to banish the "negative."
Notice I did not say, "Resolve to meditate/contemplate/do The Work every day." Resolutions imply promise...and promises are difficult to keep; things (and minds) change beyond our control. What if reality has a better idea than the one we've resolved for ourselves?
On the other hand, an intention is like the gentler twin sibling of a resolution, inviting you to open your mind and consider the possibilities. It is not a task or commitment to add to your list of "shoulds." It allows for creativity and natural flow.
Will you invite yourself into this sweet intention along with me...and let me know what happens?
©2007 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
Register here for the January 2007 teleclass series "Transformational
Inquiry: Your New Year's Revolutions"
January 9, 2007
Want a Great Facilitator? Just Answer the Freakin' Questions...
Over the years as a practitioner and facilitator of Transformational Inquiry with The Work of Byron Katie, I've formed very definite opinions of what constitutes "good" facilitation. I thought I preferred experienced facilitators to newcomers...or the personality of one experienced facilitator to that of another. When I have swapped facilitation with a partner in the past, I have sometimes rather impatiently felt the need to direct his or her facilitation and to "salvage" the experience for myself as a client.
At the most recent School for The Work, staff and participants were invited to take part in an aftercare exercise, where, in order to keep The Work working in our lives, we rotated facilitation partners in seven four-day shifts after we returned home. Even though we had all been to the school and learned the same process, everyone (me
too) has their own way of asking the questions; Katie calls this our "fingerprint." All month, as I worked with different people, I watched my mind concoct its preferences and objections and make its comparisons: "He doesn't give me enough time." "She's doing therapy." "They should follow the facilitation guidelines as written." However, I soon realized that no matter what I thought, each partner was holding the perfect space for inquiry if only I did my part, which is simply to go within and answer the questions.
I'm not sure how to explain what happened except to say that in each case, as long as I was willing, mind always enlightened itself in the presence of apparent "other:" and it could not have been better if "they" had done it differently. It was as if different parts of the brain were stimulated by those different facilitation styles; I experienced deep eepiphanies and deep peace with each of my partners, without having to micro-manage them or myself.
I have a little sticky note over my desk that I glance at when I'm facilitating, which says "Ask the questions, hold the space." I could post another that says, "The space is held; answer the questions."
Thanks to all of my facilitators who so lovingly held the space.
©2007 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
At the most recent School for The Work, staff and participants were invited to take part in an aftercare exercise, where, in order to keep The Work working in our lives, we rotated facilitation partners in seven four-day shifts after we returned home. Even though we had all been to the school and learned the same process, everyone (me
too) has their own way of asking the questions; Katie calls this our "fingerprint." All month, as I worked with different people, I watched my mind concoct its preferences and objections and make its comparisons: "He doesn't give me enough time." "She's doing therapy." "They should follow the facilitation guidelines as written." However, I soon realized that no matter what I thought, each partner was holding the perfect space for inquiry if only I did my part, which is simply to go within and answer the questions.
I'm not sure how to explain what happened except to say that in each case, as long as I was willing, mind always enlightened itself in the presence of apparent "other:" and it could not have been better if "they" had done it differently. It was as if different parts of the brain were stimulated by those different facilitation styles; I experienced deep eepiphanies and deep peace with each of my partners, without having to micro-manage them or myself.
I have a little sticky note over my desk that I glance at when I'm facilitating, which says "Ask the questions, hold the space." I could post another that says, "The space is held; answer the questions."
Thanks to all of my facilitators who so lovingly held the space.
©2007 by Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
December 19, 2006
Book Review: The Tao Te Byron Katie
A Thousand Names for Joy: Living in Harmony with The Way Things Areby Byron Katie with Stephen Mitchell
February 2007; Harmony Books
Eureka! Once and for all, Byron Katie has proven that enlightenment is not waiting on an oxygen-deprived mountaintop in Tibet, nor hiding in some mysterious, inaccessible cave of the heart known only to Yogis and Kabbalists. It's available right here while we're doing the dishes.
The sales copy for A Thousand Names for Joy calls it "a portrait of the awakened mind in action." I'd describe it as "The Tao for Dummies," a truely useful manual for "the rest of us" who want to live a peaceful, happy life. You may have heard that the conversations in this book are Katie's responses to verses from the Tao te Ching, an ancient text on the art of living by the Chinese philosopher Lao Tzu. (Katie's co-author and husband, Stephen Mitchell, wrote one of the most highly esteemed translations of this text in 1986, coincidentally the same year of Katie's now famous "moment of clarity.") This volume is much more than that. Like so many spiritual classics, the Tao wisely tells us what we should be striving for, but not how to get it. Katie, through the alchemy of self-inquiry, always tells us how.
At the same time, this truly is a portrait of an awakened mind. We get to see life through Katie's eyes as a seemingly ordinary person who, like us, endures many of the kinds of experiences we may wish we didn't have to. We witness her as a woman whose purse is stolen, whose husband ate the snack she'd bought for herself and was so looking forward to having when she got home, who watches as the birth of a granddaughter becomes a medical emergency, who gets a diagnosis of cancer, who takes care of her dying mother, who is threatened at gunpoint, who looks into the eyes of a dead friend, having arrived "too late"...who endures a painful, degenerative disease of the cornea which leaves her largely blind and vulnerable to falling (though she's since had fairly successful eye surgery). Katie describes these realities with no more drama and no less joy and gratitude than in other scenarios where she plays with her grandchild, prepares a salad, speaks onstage before an appreciative audience of 350, or receives her husband's caresses.
But this is not "the lives of the saints." Katie also provides examples of "people like us" who have come to know, through a simple process of self-inquiry called The Work, what Katie knows...for instance, a man who, although he loved his wife, was able to celebrate her decision to leave him for another man because he had questioned his anger and fear about his marriage. He stayed in his wife's life as a best friend to whom she could tell everything. (She eventually returned to him; who wouldn't want to live with someone that clear?) In this way, Katie makes the ancient teachings of the Tao come alive for us in the contemporary world.
A Thousand Names for Joy is also teeming with what could be seen, on the surface, as esoteric teachings. For instance, Katie makes statements like "the darkness is always benevolent"...which appears to go against everything we've been taught. But Katie never leaves us in the dark. She has tested out everything she teaches in her own life and shows us, through The Work, how we can know the benevolence of darkness for ourselves.
Katie asks, "Could it be that whatever seems bad to you is just something you haven't seen clearly enough yet?" Could it be that what we call "taking action" is really inaction, the same, not ours to control, just a natural flow, "the way of it" as Katie says...and therefore we can never do it wrong because "we" never did it in the first place? Self-inquiry is the way to answer these questions, and while A Thousand Names for Joy is rich with the knowledge of the nature of thought—a knowledge that leads to the infinite, self-realized mind—Katie never claims to give her readers "the Tao." The Tao of self-realization, Katie-style, demands the practice of inquiry. "Realization," she tells us, "has no value until it's lived."
In this book we have both the what and the way; A Thousand Names for Joy is not merely inspirational, it is practical, and always brings us back to the questions which provide our own answers. As Eckhart Tolle said of Katie's first book, Loving What Is, "You have the key. Now use it."
Order your copy of A Thousand Names for Joy.
©2006 by Carol L. Skolnick; all rights reserved.
December 15, 2006
What I Do/Don't Want You To Know About Me
As a writer, I like to think that my life is an open book; I tell people there's not much I haven't revealed in articles and essays that have been published to wide readership.
However, when I really sit with this question—is there anything I haven't told and don't want to tell?—I see that I can come up with a few missing pieces...oh, okay, a few dozen!
My friend Mona Grayson recently tagged me in a game of "Blog Tag" that's making the rounds. Now that I'm "It," I'm challenged to write five things about myself that others might not know about me...and in turn, to tag five other bloggers, inviting them to do the same in their weblogs.
This is a wonderful opportunity to stretch. An inquiry exercise I love is to admit to something you don't want others to know about you and then to turn it around ("I do want you to know..."). Confession is good for the soul, especially if you let yourself off the hook for being human.
So...deep breath...what I don't want you to know about me is:
1. I didn't lose my virginity until I was well into my 24th year. I'm not sure why this is still so sticky for me; some might consider it rather sweet, because I was holding out for love. The truth is, I was terrified of being used, abandoned and impregnated...so I held out until I became tired of holding out and found someone who I considered "safe." (He was; in spite of my not loving him, we stayed together for four years.)
2. I lie. I say I'll call or visit people with whom I really don't want to be that close, then I just conveniently "forget" or "something comes up." I fudge with the truth when I feel that telling the truth will make you like me less. I exaggerate or don't tell the whole truth...for example, on my website I say that I have worked with hundreds of people. I have, in workshop and volunteer capacities, but someone reading this might think I've had hundreds of private paying clients, when in truth, as of this writing I've only had a couple dozen at most since 2002!
3. Bad vision is not the main reason I don't drive; it's my convenient excuse and it's a good one because I don't have good depth perception and perhaps shouldn't be behind the wheel, ideally. But the main reason I don't drive is that in spite of spending a lot of money on driving lessons, I failed eight road tests before the age of 23, had a couple of minor but scary accidents more recently and am easily demoralized by failure...as well as frightened by machinery and traffic. I actually have nightmares about driving a car and being out of control. (Not that I've ever died or hurt anyone or totalled a car even in dreams. Hmm.)
Now I will turn these around. What I do want you to know about me is...
1. I didn't lose my virginity until I was well into my 24th year. I was a sensitive young woman and this was a way for me to be kind and gentle to myself.
2. I lie. I want you to know this because I'm not a very good liar...and if I'm setting myself up as perfect, it's going to be hard for clients to relate to me. I like to let people know that I'm just like them, not some enlightened master. I am still doing my work and very likely always will. I believe that this levels the playing field and therefore brings us closer.
3. I am scared to take driving lessons again. I don't want fail again and I don't really want the responsibility of driving either. I want you to know this because I am tired of making excuses about it; and I'm working on my fear.
I feel better now!
Here are two more things about me that you might not know:
I am a wickedly good mimic. My favorite impressions are of Julie Andrews, Mae West, Dr. Ruth Westheimer and...Byron Katie! I can do a little smidgen of Barbra Streisand, Dolly Parton, Ethel Merman, Dionne Warwicke, Shirley Temple and Diana Ross too...as well as Lionel Barrymore and my seventh grade math teacher. While this can be seen as poking fun at people, I can only do impressions of people I love.
I have a left-right learning disability that makes travelling with me an adventure that is not for the squeamish. "Turn left here...no, right, right, I meant right!" (Swerve!) (Another good excuse for not driving!)
Now that you've learned a bit more about me, you might enjoy visiting the blogs of these five friends and colleagues:
Annie Newman: The often hilarious as well as thoughtful "Annie's Day" blog features, by her own account, "Life, as played by a middle-aged woman with a vivid imagination."
Jody, whose guru-busting blog Guruphiliac will disillusion you in betweem guffaws.
Dawud Miracle, who blogs about marketing, customer service and the integration of life and work on his website. (He's my miraculous web designer and that's his real name.)
Jamie Reynolds is just following the Simple Directions.
Lisa Biskup: "Thoughts appear—and I put them here."
You may also like to subscribe to my newsletter, Transformational Inquiry, in which I tell on myself quite often, while tying my experience to the process of The Work of Byron Katie.
©2006 by Carol L. Skolnick; all rights reserved.
However, when I really sit with this question—is there anything I haven't told and don't want to tell?—I see that I can come up with a few missing pieces...oh, okay, a few dozen!
My friend Mona Grayson recently tagged me in a game of "Blog Tag" that's making the rounds. Now that I'm "It," I'm challenged to write five things about myself that others might not know about me...and in turn, to tag five other bloggers, inviting them to do the same in their weblogs.
This is a wonderful opportunity to stretch. An inquiry exercise I love is to admit to something you don't want others to know about you and then to turn it around ("I do want you to know..."). Confession is good for the soul, especially if you let yourself off the hook for being human.
So...deep breath...what I don't want you to know about me is:
1. I didn't lose my virginity until I was well into my 24th year. I'm not sure why this is still so sticky for me; some might consider it rather sweet, because I was holding out for love. The truth is, I was terrified of being used, abandoned and impregnated...so I held out until I became tired of holding out and found someone who I considered "safe." (He was; in spite of my not loving him, we stayed together for four years.)
2. I lie. I say I'll call or visit people with whom I really don't want to be that close, then I just conveniently "forget" or "something comes up." I fudge with the truth when I feel that telling the truth will make you like me less. I exaggerate or don't tell the whole truth...for example, on my website I say that I have worked with hundreds of people. I have, in workshop and volunteer capacities, but someone reading this might think I've had hundreds of private paying clients, when in truth, as of this writing I've only had a couple dozen at most since 2002!
3. Bad vision is not the main reason I don't drive; it's my convenient excuse and it's a good one because I don't have good depth perception and perhaps shouldn't be behind the wheel, ideally. But the main reason I don't drive is that in spite of spending a lot of money on driving lessons, I failed eight road tests before the age of 23, had a couple of minor but scary accidents more recently and am easily demoralized by failure...as well as frightened by machinery and traffic. I actually have nightmares about driving a car and being out of control. (Not that I've ever died or hurt anyone or totalled a car even in dreams. Hmm.)
Now I will turn these around. What I do want you to know about me is...
1. I didn't lose my virginity until I was well into my 24th year. I was a sensitive young woman and this was a way for me to be kind and gentle to myself.
2. I lie. I want you to know this because I'm not a very good liar...and if I'm setting myself up as perfect, it's going to be hard for clients to relate to me. I like to let people know that I'm just like them, not some enlightened master. I am still doing my work and very likely always will. I believe that this levels the playing field and therefore brings us closer.
3. I am scared to take driving lessons again. I don't want fail again and I don't really want the responsibility of driving either. I want you to know this because I am tired of making excuses about it; and I'm working on my fear.
I feel better now!
Here are two more things about me that you might not know:
I am a wickedly good mimic. My favorite impressions are of Julie Andrews, Mae West, Dr. Ruth Westheimer and...Byron Katie! I can do a little smidgen of Barbra Streisand, Dolly Parton, Ethel Merman, Dionne Warwicke, Shirley Temple and Diana Ross too...as well as Lionel Barrymore and my seventh grade math teacher. While this can be seen as poking fun at people, I can only do impressions of people I love.
I have a left-right learning disability that makes travelling with me an adventure that is not for the squeamish. "Turn left here...no, right, right, I meant right!" (Swerve!) (Another good excuse for not driving!)
Now that you've learned a bit more about me, you might enjoy visiting the blogs of these five friends and colleagues:
Annie Newman: The often hilarious as well as thoughtful "Annie's Day" blog features, by her own account, "Life, as played by a middle-aged woman with a vivid imagination."
Jody, whose guru-busting blog Guruphiliac will disillusion you in betweem guffaws.
Dawud Miracle, who blogs about marketing, customer service and the integration of life and work on his website. (He's my miraculous web designer and that's his real name.)
Jamie Reynolds is just following the Simple Directions.
Lisa Biskup: "Thoughts appear—and I put them here."
You may also like to subscribe to my newsletter, Transformational Inquiry, in which I tell on myself quite often, while tying my experience to the process of The Work of Byron Katie.
©2006 by Carol L. Skolnick; all rights reserved.
December 8, 2006
Should I Quit My Day Job?
by Carol L. Skolnick
"Do what you love, the money will follow" is a theme that comes up a lot in "right livelihood" circles. We almost never hear "Do what you must do AND do what you love." Instead, we demand that money come primarily or exclusively from what we love. This—like other beliefs characteristic of the "manifestation" mindset—can be a set-up for disappointment. "I must only work at what I love" is a symptom of a closed, unexamined mind. It doesn't allow us to be content doing what we do...and it doesn't allow reality to guide us to the perfect work.
The day job I'd had since 1993 didn't "quit" me until 2006, although my freelance copywriting business had virtually died by 2001. For six years, I still called myself a copywriter (who did this other "coachy-kinda-thing" on the side), even though I wasn't writing much copy...nor was my heart into re-building my business.
Trying to stay in the creative services business was a struggle. I was invested in being a free agent and didn't want to go back to a 9-to-5 office job. However, I wasn't getting juicy, lucrative assignments from places like National Geographic and Doubleday Book Clubs anymore. I loved facilitating The Work more than anything but with a mortgage to pay, a medical condition and no spouse-with-a-job, it didn't feel like the right time to reinvent myself.
Finally I took a temporary position at a large company in crisis. Ironically, the temp job was my ticket out of copywriting, but not for the obvious reasons.
The company that hired me was experiencing their umpteenth reorganization in ten years. Nearly everyone there (except the new crop of powerful, well-paid top executives) seemed depressed. When I arrived (the result of a firing), longtime employees were being demoted as new people and pricey consultants came in over them. The "old-timers" were resentful and dared not speak up because they were getting older and wanted to keep their pensions (which had already declined in value due to a new investment plan). Department heads reduced to middle managers were trying to assert themselves and, in the process, alienating their direct reports. With so many new chiefs, lower-level workers were downsized and the remaining ones had to absorb the workload with no pay increases. Some of the temporary staff were invited to come on board full time at low salaries. Not surprisingly, none of us bit.
Stressful, demanding and low-paying, this job was not one I would have taken or stayed in if I didn't know how to question what I believe. However, it bought me some time to figure out what I wanted to do...and it afforded me an unexpected bonus.
I had been facilitating The Work after hours and on weekends for several years, often with clients who had work-related issues. The office became my inquiry lab; as an employee, I was in the perfect position to collect data as both scientist and test subject. How do I react in stressful work situations? How do I treat the people I work with and for? How do I treat myself when I think the work is boring, that my boss should be different, that the employees have victim mentality, that upper management doesn't care? What am I avoiding, assuming, projecting? Who would I be without my story?
As I applied The Work to my "insane" work life, I became better at handling the demands of the job and the reality of the workplace. In addition, I became better equipped to work with others experiencing stressful employment situations. This was facilitator's training at its best.
Not surprisingly, soon after I started the job, reality shifted. I received requests to go to Latin America to give workshops...and because I was "only a temp," I could take time off to do it. I got phone calls and emails saying, "I just read Byron Katie's book and I heard about your workshops. How much would you charge to work with me privately?" Clients and others who knew of my work began referring their friends and colleagues...which was the very same way that my freelance copywriting business began, years earlier.
If I love The Work and I don't make a living from it, it doesn't mean I don't get to do The Work. It might mean that I flip burgers at the fast food emporium with the consciousness of one who does The Work. It might mean that I become a wonderful burger-flipper because I have learned to love flipping burgers...even though I don't eat beef. They promote me to supervisor and I use The Work to manage disgruntled or untalented burger-flippers...and to manage myself managing them. With a clear mind, my creativity naturally emerges. I design a more efficient process for flipping burgers and get promoted to the front office of Burger Flippers International. I write a bestseller about my days as a burger flipper, it gets optioned for a blockbuster film, I consult on the screenplay and my day job quits me. What if I'd believed flipping burgers was beneath me and that I should only do what I loved?
This doesn't mean you have to stay at a job you don't love. If it doesn't in any way serve you to stay, why would you? (And you may want to inquire into that unless you are stress-lessly certain the job has no value for you.). It also doesn't mean you'll get to live your dream of being a full-time sportscaster right away (or ever)...but what you might learn hawking popcorn in the stadium stands could bring you riches you'd never receive all alone in the announcer's booth.
Deepening Transformational Inquiry: How it Would Look
1. Imagine applying your "do what you love" skills to the work you are doing now. Examples:
*How would a relationship coach working as an HR administrator help employees who are experiencing fear and resentment about a takeover?
*How would a television actor working as a waiter handle a cranky customer?
*How would a Reiki master working as an executive assistant approach a stack of correspondence and a deadline crunch?
*How would a shaman run an ad agency? (Here's one who does!)
*How would an ad agency executive driving a taxi face traffic with a carful of anxious passengers in a hurry?
2. Inquire: "I'd be much happier/much better off if my day job were also my passion." Can you absolutely know that it's true?
©2006 by Carol L. Skolnick; all rights reserved.
Carol's new eBook, Transformational Inquiry: Working on Your Work, will be released early in 2007. Preorder your copy here.
"Do what you love, the money will follow" is a theme that comes up a lot in "right livelihood" circles. We almost never hear "Do what you must do AND do what you love." Instead, we demand that money come primarily or exclusively from what we love. This—like other beliefs characteristic of the "manifestation" mindset—can be a set-up for disappointment. "I must only work at what I love" is a symptom of a closed, unexamined mind. It doesn't allow us to be content doing what we do...and it doesn't allow reality to guide us to the perfect work.
The day job I'd had since 1993 didn't "quit" me until 2006, although my freelance copywriting business had virtually died by 2001. For six years, I still called myself a copywriter (who did this other "coachy-kinda-thing" on the side), even though I wasn't writing much copy...nor was my heart into re-building my business.
Trying to stay in the creative services business was a struggle. I was invested in being a free agent and didn't want to go back to a 9-to-5 office job. However, I wasn't getting juicy, lucrative assignments from places like National Geographic and Doubleday Book Clubs anymore. I loved facilitating The Work more than anything but with a mortgage to pay, a medical condition and no spouse-with-a-job, it didn't feel like the right time to reinvent myself.
Finally I took a temporary position at a large company in crisis. Ironically, the temp job was my ticket out of copywriting, but not for the obvious reasons.
The company that hired me was experiencing their umpteenth reorganization in ten years. Nearly everyone there (except the new crop of powerful, well-paid top executives) seemed depressed. When I arrived (the result of a firing), longtime employees were being demoted as new people and pricey consultants came in over them. The "old-timers" were resentful and dared not speak up because they were getting older and wanted to keep their pensions (which had already declined in value due to a new investment plan). Department heads reduced to middle managers were trying to assert themselves and, in the process, alienating their direct reports. With so many new chiefs, lower-level workers were downsized and the remaining ones had to absorb the workload with no pay increases. Some of the temporary staff were invited to come on board full time at low salaries. Not surprisingly, none of us bit.
Stressful, demanding and low-paying, this job was not one I would have taken or stayed in if I didn't know how to question what I believe. However, it bought me some time to figure out what I wanted to do...and it afforded me an unexpected bonus.
I had been facilitating The Work after hours and on weekends for several years, often with clients who had work-related issues. The office became my inquiry lab; as an employee, I was in the perfect position to collect data as both scientist and test subject. How do I react in stressful work situations? How do I treat the people I work with and for? How do I treat myself when I think the work is boring, that my boss should be different, that the employees have victim mentality, that upper management doesn't care? What am I avoiding, assuming, projecting? Who would I be without my story?
As I applied The Work to my "insane" work life, I became better at handling the demands of the job and the reality of the workplace. In addition, I became better equipped to work with others experiencing stressful employment situations. This was facilitator's training at its best.
Not surprisingly, soon after I started the job, reality shifted. I received requests to go to Latin America to give workshops...and because I was "only a temp," I could take time off to do it. I got phone calls and emails saying, "I just read Byron Katie's book and I heard about your workshops. How much would you charge to work with me privately?" Clients and others who knew of my work began referring their friends and colleagues...which was the very same way that my freelance copywriting business began, years earlier.
If I love The Work and I don't make a living from it, it doesn't mean I don't get to do The Work. It might mean that I flip burgers at the fast food emporium with the consciousness of one who does The Work. It might mean that I become a wonderful burger-flipper because I have learned to love flipping burgers...even though I don't eat beef. They promote me to supervisor and I use The Work to manage disgruntled or untalented burger-flippers...and to manage myself managing them. With a clear mind, my creativity naturally emerges. I design a more efficient process for flipping burgers and get promoted to the front office of Burger Flippers International. I write a bestseller about my days as a burger flipper, it gets optioned for a blockbuster film, I consult on the screenplay and my day job quits me. What if I'd believed flipping burgers was beneath me and that I should only do what I loved?
This doesn't mean you have to stay at a job you don't love. If it doesn't in any way serve you to stay, why would you? (And you may want to inquire into that unless you are stress-lessly certain the job has no value for you.). It also doesn't mean you'll get to live your dream of being a full-time sportscaster right away (or ever)...but what you might learn hawking popcorn in the stadium stands could bring you riches you'd never receive all alone in the announcer's booth.
Deepening Transformational Inquiry: How it Would Look
1. Imagine applying your "do what you love" skills to the work you are doing now. Examples:
*How would a relationship coach working as an HR administrator help employees who are experiencing fear and resentment about a takeover?
*How would a television actor working as a waiter handle a cranky customer?
*How would a Reiki master working as an executive assistant approach a stack of correspondence and a deadline crunch?
*How would a shaman run an ad agency? (Here's one who does!)
*How would an ad agency executive driving a taxi face traffic with a carful of anxious passengers in a hurry?
2. Inquire: "I'd be much happier/much better off if my day job were also my passion." Can you absolutely know that it's true?
©2006 by Carol L. Skolnick; all rights reserved.
Carol's new eBook, Transformational Inquiry: Working on Your Work, will be released early in 2007. Preorder your copy here.
December 7, 2006
The Rocky, Horrific Picture Show
by Carol L. Skolnick
One of the subquestions of The Work of Byron Katie is, "What pictures,
if any, come to mind when you think that thought?" Sometimes when I ask
that question, I get a funny reaction from my clients. "Pictures?!?!!"
Actually it's a really good question. We all know about running "tapes"
in our minds (although soon that term is going to be as extinct as the
dinosaur. There are audiophiles alive today who have never even laid
eyes on a cassette tape or a reel-to-reel.) Many of us also run films (or
insert your favorite and more up-to-date visual media here).
Think about it. Your partner says or does something that irks you. If
you don't inquire into your thoughts about what he or she said or did,
doesn't your mind revisit past irksome episodes? That's how we come to
form core beliefs like "She never misses an opportunity to criticize me"
or "Men always leave the seat up."
What about self-judgments? You hear the internal tape-loop of thoughts
like "I'm not good enough." When that happens, do you flash on specific
incidents of feeling that way? Last one picked for the school
volleyball team? Stammering repeatedly during your big presentation? Beloved
leaves you for someone else?
Sitting with the images of your past that come to mind when you attach
to a belief is a most effective way to deepen Transformational Inquiry.
Let the movie of your life be your guide to other subquestions, such as
"How have you lived your life because you've believed that thought?"
"Is this where addictions kick in and you reach for food, alcohol, credit
cards, the TV remote?" "Where does your mind travel when you think that
thought?" "Does this thought bring peace or stress into your life?"
"Work of the eyes is done,
now go and do heart work on
all the images imprisoned within you."
—Rainer Maria Rilke
Deepening Transformational Inquiry: The Horror Show of the Future
Let's look at a stressful thought about someone in your life who upsets
you. "Always" and "never" thoughts are great ones for this exercise.
If you have children, you might relate to this one: "My son/daughter
never listens."
If you've ever had this thought about your child, probably you can
concoct an image very quickly of your offspring preoccupied with a game or
with internet chat when you've told them three times to come to the
dinner table or to go to bed.
Now put this thought into the future; what pictures do you see when you
think of your child years from now and you hold the belief "He/she
doesn't listen"? What do you fear will happen to your child?
Child rolling eyes as you lecture them about how they need to pay
attention?
High school dropout?
Unresponsive spouse whose wife/husband/partner leaves him/her in short
order?
Clueless parent?
Total failure?
What do you assume will happen to you if you didn't believe this
thought? Watch the images:
Screaming yourself hoarse for years until the kid grows up and leaves
home.
Called into school for conferences with disapproving teachers.
Old and alone and begging your child for assistance...and your pleas
fall on deaf ears?
The "coulda/shoulda/woulda" scenarios of what an ineffective parent
you've been all these years and how you might have done it differently?
Are you enjoying these movies?
If not, what do you get for holding this belief? Can you see a reason
to drop it?
Turn the thought around: "My son/daughter always listens."
In what ways is that turnaround as true or truer? What pictures come to
mind when you see, perhaps for the first time, the listening, attentive
child in your life?
©2006 Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
One of the subquestions of The Work of Byron Katie is, "What pictures,
if any, come to mind when you think that thought?" Sometimes when I ask
that question, I get a funny reaction from my clients. "Pictures?!?!!"
Actually it's a really good question. We all know about running "tapes"
in our minds (although soon that term is going to be as extinct as the
dinosaur. There are audiophiles alive today who have never even laid
eyes on a cassette tape or a reel-to-reel.) Many of us also run films (or
insert your favorite and more up-to-date visual media here).
Think about it. Your partner says or does something that irks you. If
you don't inquire into your thoughts about what he or she said or did,
doesn't your mind revisit past irksome episodes? That's how we come to
form core beliefs like "She never misses an opportunity to criticize me"
or "Men always leave the seat up."
What about self-judgments? You hear the internal tape-loop of thoughts
like "I'm not good enough." When that happens, do you flash on specific
incidents of feeling that way? Last one picked for the school
volleyball team? Stammering repeatedly during your big presentation? Beloved
leaves you for someone else?
Sitting with the images of your past that come to mind when you attach
to a belief is a most effective way to deepen Transformational Inquiry.
Let the movie of your life be your guide to other subquestions, such as
"How have you lived your life because you've believed that thought?"
"Is this where addictions kick in and you reach for food, alcohol, credit
cards, the TV remote?" "Where does your mind travel when you think that
thought?" "Does this thought bring peace or stress into your life?"
"Work of the eyes is done,
now go and do heart work on
all the images imprisoned within you."
—Rainer Maria Rilke
Deepening Transformational Inquiry: The Horror Show of the Future
Let's look at a stressful thought about someone in your life who upsets
you. "Always" and "never" thoughts are great ones for this exercise.
If you have children, you might relate to this one: "My son/daughter
never listens."
If you've ever had this thought about your child, probably you can
concoct an image very quickly of your offspring preoccupied with a game or
with internet chat when you've told them three times to come to the
dinner table or to go to bed.
Now put this thought into the future; what pictures do you see when you
think of your child years from now and you hold the belief "He/she
doesn't listen"? What do you fear will happen to your child?
Child rolling eyes as you lecture them about how they need to pay
attention?
High school dropout?
Unresponsive spouse whose wife/husband/partner leaves him/her in short
order?
Clueless parent?
Total failure?
What do you assume will happen to you if you didn't believe this
thought? Watch the images:
Screaming yourself hoarse for years until the kid grows up and leaves
home.
Called into school for conferences with disapproving teachers.
Old and alone and begging your child for assistance...and your pleas
fall on deaf ears?
The "coulda/shoulda/woulda" scenarios of what an ineffective parent
you've been all these years and how you might have done it differently?
Are you enjoying these movies?
If not, what do you get for holding this belief? Can you see a reason
to drop it?
Turn the thought around: "My son/daughter always listens."
In what ways is that turnaround as true or truer? What pictures come to
mind when you see, perhaps for the first time, the listening, attentive
child in your life?
©2006 Carol L. Skolnick. All rights reserved.
December 5, 2006
The 20-minute Test
by Carol L. Skolnick
Why do we believe what we think? Often it's reflexive; we've just always felt this way. We don't question it. However, there are times when we believe something that might be worth looking into...such as those things which we procrastinate about or want to avoid. Why haven't we taken care of that? The stock response: "Because I don't feel like it."
If "I don't feel like it" feels stressful, there's a clue that it's not true. You do feel like it because you think you ought to be doing it.
Lately I've been applying something called "the 20-minute test" to The Work. The test was created by a life coach named Bruce Elkin, author of Simplicity and Success: Creating the Life You Long For [Trafford, 2003].
I have a gym membership and sometimes when I say "I don't want to go to the gym," I am lying. I do want to go; I joined the gym because I understood it was good for me. I truly enjoy doing things that are good for me and besides, it has a swimming pool and I love to swim. Staying at home in the moment to rest, work or catch up on my phone messages sometimes seems better and more important than sweating for two hours plus a half-hour of travel time round-trip.
In truth, it's fine not to go to the gym as long as it's fine with me. When it's really fine with me, I feel great. If not, I know I'm attaching to an untrue belief. In this instance, is definitely worth taking 20 minutes to "ask me" if I can save myself from 24 hours of self-flagellation for not going...even if it means deducting 20 minutes deducted from my time at the gym or from my time working on the Great American eBook.
"I don't feel like vacuuming the rug now." "I don't feel like sending out my e-zine." "I don't feel like making love." While it's true that I don't have to do any of these things ever again in my life, it has served me to ask myself if it's true that I don't I feel like doing them now. What are the underlying beliefs? I find that if I take just 20 minutes to find out, the answers are often very juicy. After inquiry, it could mean I get to have a clean floor, an e-zine (I took the 20-minute test today!), or a happy partner. If not, at least I'm very clear about my decision.
Here's a good one, one of my favorites: "I have nothing to write about." I've used that one, not only when I have a writing deadline, but also when I think I don't want to write out The Work. My reasoning: "Nothing's bothering me."
Is this one of yours? It may be true that nothing is bothering you right now and if so, bravo. You can always go back to the place in your life where something was bothersome. If there's any residue left there, don't you want to clean it up?
In fact, it's actually easier and very desirable to do The Work when there is no extreme stress in the moment. (I'll cover this in more detail in a future newsletter.) The great thing about self-awareness is that it compounds, like interest. If you can do 20 minutes of inquiry now, you may find you have a reserve of sanity for a "rainy day."
What a great deal: 20 minutes of your time here and there in exchange for a happier life and a clearer head.
Deepening Transformational Inquiry: Take the 20-minute Test
I like to put off doing things because "the weather's lousy." The other day I did not bring my water bottles to the store to refill then because it was cold out. Today it is a sunny day. What great excuse will I come up with this time?
"I don't feel like taking the bottles to the store." Is that true? Yeah!
Absolutely? Well, no. I'm running out of purified water, I'd rather not drink or cook with tap water, the empties are lined up by the door and it looks messy. So I really do want to go to the store. I just wish my triceps didn't hurt from working out yesterday, that I didn't promise myself I'd set up the new TV today, that my client had kept her original appointment, that there were more hours in the day, blah blah blah.... Okay, there goes the mind, which I steer gently back to inquiry. How do I live my life when I believe the thought that I don't want to go to the store...and I want water?
The bottom line is, I don't have to go to the store—and I'm going to. I do feel like it, because I want a neat kitchen and a well-stocked supply of water more than I want to avoid what I'm avoiding.
©2006 by Carol L. Skolnick; all rights reserved.
Why do we believe what we think? Often it's reflexive; we've just always felt this way. We don't question it. However, there are times when we believe something that might be worth looking into...such as those things which we procrastinate about or want to avoid. Why haven't we taken care of that? The stock response: "Because I don't feel like it."
If "I don't feel like it" feels stressful, there's a clue that it's not true. You do feel like it because you think you ought to be doing it.
Lately I've been applying something called "the 20-minute test" to The Work. The test was created by a life coach named Bruce Elkin, author of Simplicity and Success: Creating the Life You Long For [Trafford, 2003].
I have a gym membership and sometimes when I say "I don't want to go to the gym," I am lying. I do want to go; I joined the gym because I understood it was good for me. I truly enjoy doing things that are good for me and besides, it has a swimming pool and I love to swim. Staying at home in the moment to rest, work or catch up on my phone messages sometimes seems better and more important than sweating for two hours plus a half-hour of travel time round-trip.
In truth, it's fine not to go to the gym as long as it's fine with me. When it's really fine with me, I feel great. If not, I know I'm attaching to an untrue belief. In this instance, is definitely worth taking 20 minutes to "ask me" if I can save myself from 24 hours of self-flagellation for not going...even if it means deducting 20 minutes deducted from my time at the gym or from my time working on the Great American eBook.
"I don't feel like vacuuming the rug now." "I don't feel like sending out my e-zine." "I don't feel like making love." While it's true that I don't have to do any of these things ever again in my life, it has served me to ask myself if it's true that I don't I feel like doing them now. What are the underlying beliefs? I find that if I take just 20 minutes to find out, the answers are often very juicy. After inquiry, it could mean I get to have a clean floor, an e-zine (I took the 20-minute test today!), or a happy partner. If not, at least I'm very clear about my decision.
Here's a good one, one of my favorites: "I have nothing to write about." I've used that one, not only when I have a writing deadline, but also when I think I don't want to write out The Work. My reasoning: "Nothing's bothering me."
Is this one of yours? It may be true that nothing is bothering you right now and if so, bravo. You can always go back to the place in your life where something was bothersome. If there's any residue left there, don't you want to clean it up?
In fact, it's actually easier and very desirable to do The Work when there is no extreme stress in the moment. (I'll cover this in more detail in a future newsletter.) The great thing about self-awareness is that it compounds, like interest. If you can do 20 minutes of inquiry now, you may find you have a reserve of sanity for a "rainy day."
What a great deal: 20 minutes of your time here and there in exchange for a happier life and a clearer head.
Deepening Transformational Inquiry: Take the 20-minute Test
I like to put off doing things because "the weather's lousy." The other day I did not bring my water bottles to the store to refill then because it was cold out. Today it is a sunny day. What great excuse will I come up with this time?
"I don't feel like taking the bottles to the store." Is that true? Yeah!
Absolutely? Well, no. I'm running out of purified water, I'd rather not drink or cook with tap water, the empties are lined up by the door and it looks messy. So I really do want to go to the store. I just wish my triceps didn't hurt from working out yesterday, that I didn't promise myself I'd set up the new TV today, that my client had kept her original appointment, that there were more hours in the day, blah blah blah.... Okay, there goes the mind, which I steer gently back to inquiry. How do I live my life when I believe the thought that I don't want to go to the store...and I want water?
The bottom line is, I don't have to go to the store—and I'm going to. I do feel like it, because I want a neat kitchen and a well-stocked supply of water more than I want to avoid what I'm avoiding.
©2006 by Carol L. Skolnick; all rights reserved.
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