Jake Eagle's Blog, page 13

Responsabilidade e Vitimismo

Responsabilidade advém do latim responso (respõsum) que significa responder por.  Somos responsáveis quando respondemos por nossos atos, sentimentos ou por algo que nos foi  confiado.  Vítima vem a ser qualquer pessoa que sofre dano ou prejuízo – a quem o ato de ter sido prejudicada é atribuído como de responsabilidade de terceiros. Somos vítimas quando sofremos e atribuímos nosso sofrimento a alguém. Alguém é culpado por nosso sofrimento.

Ao não respondermos por nossos sentimentos e ações,  jogamos a responsabilidade no outro. Isto leva ao sentimento de vítima. E aí dizemos ao mundo – veja o que ele fez comigo! Sentir-se vítima sempre vem acompanhado pela culpa e acusação. Vitimismo e culpabilidade são suas faces da mesma moeda.

Muitas vezes, a acusação é uma falta de responsabilidade com a própria vida. Acusamos o outro por nos sentirmos de determinada maneira. Esta é uma concepção de mundo em que o foco está no exterior. Cremos que é o mundo externo direciona nossa vida. Eu diria que esta  concepção de mundo não se restringe apenas a eventos negativos – nosso foco está fora, sempre achamos que são acontecimentos ou pessoas externas a nós que nos fazem sentir alegres ou tristes.

Quando mudamos o foco do externo para o interno, reconhecemos que nós temos o poder de escolher como reagir, qual sentimento ter em relação ao evento. Ao nos darmos conta de que somos nós os ‘construtores’ de nossa vida, tomamos o poder em nossas mãos,  nossos estados de espírito não ficam  mais dependentes dos outros.

Responsabilidade é o oposto do vitimismo. Quando somos responsáveis somos poderosos, temos o poder em nossas mãos, quando projetamos e acusamos  somos vítimas,  marionetes nas mãos dos outros.  Não assumir a responsabilidade por nosso ser, necessariamente se desdobra em acusar o outro.

 

Reiterando, quando acusamos o outro  não estamos respondemos por nós, posto que cremos que o outro é o causador de nosso sofrimento.  Nesta concepção,  o outro é que é o responsável pelo que estamos sentimos ou pela experiência que estamos vivenciando. ‘O outro é que é o responsável’, leia-se: culpado.

Jake Eagle, psicoterapeuta e escritor norte-americano, nos ajuda a entender esta relação. Ele afirma: the degree to which we don’t take responsibility is the degree to which we may victimize ourselves. When we experience ourselves as victims we make excuses and blame other people . Whenever we blame other people, we aren’t taking responsibility for our own experiences or our own feelings. Other people become a distraction so that we don’t have to examine our contribution to creating the mess we’re in.” (p.121)

Não é raro escondermos algo que não gostamos em nós mesmos. Então,  projetamos em alguém o modo como sentimos ou mesmo, como pensamos. A projeção é um modo de negar qualidades que não admitimos como nossas. É uma maneira de esconder-se.

É muito usual projetarmos falhas, culpas nos outros. Ao lançarmos  a culpa em outra pessoa, nós fugimos de nós. Trata-se de uma forma de não assumirmos a origem de determinados sentimentos,  por considerá-los negativos. Assim, não temos vergonha de dizemos: estou com irritado por causa dele (a).

Portanto, a projeção acontece quando não assumimos nosso ser, nossas qualidades e defeitos. É uma irresponsabilidade quanto aos nossos atos e sentimentos. Não aceitamos, negamos, lançamos para fora. Não respondemos às nossas emoções como sendo nossas. Deste modo, somos irresponsáveis.

Assim,  projetamos a causa de nossos sentimentos no outro. Fazemos isto sem nos dar conta. Ao agirmos desta maneira,  ficamos mais longe de nosso próprio ser, nos alienamos de nós. E, também, perdemos a capacidade de estabelecer uma ligação com o outro.  A projeção instiga a separação, nos impede de nos conectar com o outro, pois quando projetamos uma qualidade negativa, nos afastamos das pessoas a quem atribuímos falhas, a quem consideramos estarem errados.

Não assumir a responsabilidade por nossos sentimentos é um caminho mais fácil,  porque é difícil aceitar sentimentos ruins como nossos. Sentimos raiva e justificamos nossa raiva afirmando que  foi o outro que nos fez ficar com raiva. Dizemos: ‘estou com raiva por causa de fulano, ou porque tal coisa nos aconteceu’.  A acusação é uma maneira de justificar a própria raiva. – Nós nos desapropriamos de nosso sentimento.

Relacionamentos saudáveis requerem autoconhecimento. Se não formos profundamente conhecedores de nossos sentimentos e necessidades, vamos projetá-los nos outros, gerando conflito e afastando-nos deles. Precisamos estar alertas para nossas experiências internas a fim de mantermos relacionamentos mais harmoniosos.

Isto leva à questão da honestidade. É conosco que precisamos ser honestos: quais são nossos valores, desejos, sentimentos e necessidades. Quando estamos conectados conosco, facilmente nos conectamos com os outros. Quando não reconhecemos nossos sentimentos como nossos e quando não reconhecemos nossas necessidade, projetamos os sentimentos e acusamos o outros por nosso sofrimento. Jake Eagle afirma que quanto mais estivermos desconectados de nós mesmos, mais sofremos ( ‘ …the longer I say disconnected from myself, the more I will suffer. p.118)

É comum pensarmos que honestidade consiste em dizer ao outro o que o outro é. Mas isto é uma impossibilidade. Tudo o que sabemos dos outros são nossas interpretações, nossas percepções. Houve um evento muito interessante no workshop: uma pessoa disse para outra: – você fala muito baixo. Dr. Jake interveio: – diga o que você precisa, não o que o outro é. Daí ela refez a frase: tenho necessidade de que fale mais alto.

Esta passagem foi muito esclarecedora. Usualmente, esquecemos de nós e nos referimos ao mundo externo. Assim, ficamos desconectados de nossas necessidades e sentimentos e, em vez disso,  somos condicionados a nos focar no outro. Isto sempre acontece através do julgamento, geralmente manifesto por meio de acusações.

Livrar-se do julgamento  nos leva a nos conectar com nosso próprio ser. Além disso, outro aspecto relevante  na relação julgamento/honestidade é que,  para Eagle, se nos desvencilharmos dos rótulos bom/mau, será mais fácil sermos honestos, pois estaremos livre do medo do julgamento (nosso e de outrem) o que facilitará o encontro conosco, ou a honestidade.

Considero honestidade a capacidade de nos darmos conta de quais são nossos sentimentos, necessidades e valores por meio dos quais erigimos a imagem dos outros em nós. Num exemplo bem simples: em vez de dizer que o outro é agressivo, é honesto dizer que tal comportamento não atende às nossas expectativas, ou que ficamos magoados por algum gesto ou palavra dita. O mesmo gesto ou palavra pode não ter nenhuma repercussão negativa em outra pessoa.

Ao assumirmos a responsabilidade por nossa vida, deixamos de culpar o outro por nossas falhas ou por acontecimentos que consideramos desagradáveis. Isto fomenta a paz e favorece a conexão com as pessoas. Também,  invertemos o papel de vítimas para o papel de pessoas de poder. Temos o poder de escolher como nos sentir frente aos acontecimentos. Assumir a responsabilidade por nós, significa um maior conhecimento de si, de nossos estados interiores, nos livrando de rótulos como bom ou mal – o que sentimos é legítimo. E, neste processo ainda temos um mundo de possibilidade sobre o qual navegar. Isto é libertador.

 

 

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Responsibility vs Victimhood

Responsibility comes from the Latin reponso (responsum), which means to answer for (respond for). We are responsible when we answer for our actions, feelings or for something that was entrusted to us. A victim is anyone who suffers harm or loss – to whom the act of being harmed is attributed to third party responsibility. We are victims when we suffer and attribute our grief to someone else.

When we do not answer for our feelings and actions, we put the responsibility on someone else. This leads to a feeling of being a victim. Then we say to the world: “See what he’s done to me!”

Usually, blaming denotes a lack of responsibility with your own life. We blame others because we feel a certain way. This perception of the world occurs when we believe that it is the outside world, and other people, that guide our lives. I would say that this world perception is responsible for us believing that it is other people who make us feel happy or sad—not ourselves.

Changing our focus changes our lives

When we change the focus from the outside to the inside, we recognize that we have the power to choose how to react, to choose which feelings to express in relation to the event. When we take notice that we are the ‘builders’ of our lives, we take the power in our hands; our states of spirit are not anymore dependent on other people.

Responsibility is the opposite of victim-hood. When we take responsibility, we are powerful, we have the power in our hands; when we project and blame we are victims, puppets in someone else’s hands. Not taking responsibility for our self eventually results in blaming someone else.

When we blame other people we do not answer for ourselves, since we believe other people are causing our grief. In this perception, someone else is responsible for what we feel or for the experience we are going through. ‘The other is the responsible’, i.e., guilty.

American psychotherapist and writer Jake Eagle helps us understand this relation. He claims:  “The degree to which we don’t take responsibility is the degree to which we may victimize ourselves. When we experience ourselves as victims we make excuses and blame other people. Whenever we blame other people, we aren’t taking responsibility for our own experiences or our own feelings. Other people become a distraction so that we don’t have to examine our contribution to creating the mess we’re in.” (ReRight your Life: an introduction to Reology, p. 121)

Why do we hide

It is not uncommon that we hide something we do not like about ourselves. Then, we project on someone else the way we feel or even think. The projection is a way to deny qualities we do not admit to be ours. It is a way to hide.

We usually project failures and faults on other people. When we lay blame on someone else, we are running from ourselves. We do not accept our emotions as being ours.

We project the origin, the source of our feelings onto someone else. We do this without realizing it. In so doing, we get away from our own being; we alienate ourselves and also lose the ability to connect with others. The projection creates separation and prevents us from connecting with each other, because when we project a negative quality, we turn away from people who we consider to be wrong. But we are the ones we make them wrong.

Therefore, the projection happens when we do not accept our own selves, our qualities and shortcomings. It is irresponsibility for our actions and feelings. We do not accept them, we deny them, we cast them out. We do not respond to our emotions. Hence, we are not being responsible.

Not taking responsibility for our feelings seems like an easier path because it is difficult to accept dark or negative feelings as our own. We feel anger and justify it by asserting that it was someone else who made us angry. We say: “I’m angry because of so-and-so or because so-and-so happened to me.” Blaming someone else is a way to justify our anger. But we are not owning our feelings.

Healthy relationships require self-knowledge. If we are not deeply knowledgeable of our feelings and needs—and owning them—then we will project our feelings onto others, generating conflict and pushing others away. We need to be alert to our inner emotions in order to maintain a healthy relationship.

This leads to the question of honesty

We need to be honest with ourselves and determine our real values, desires, feelings and needs. When we are connected with ourselves, we can more easily connect with others. When we do not acknowledge our feelings as our own and when we do not recognize our needs, we project these feelings and blame others for our suffering.

Jake Eagle claims that “the longer I stay disconnected from myself, the more I will suffer” (id. p. 118).

It’s common that we think honesty consists of telling other people who they are. But that is impossible. Everything we know about other people is based solely on our interpretations, our perceptions.

There was a very interesting event during the Reology workshop I attended: One person told another “You speak too low.” Jake Eagle intervened: “Say what you need instead of telling the other person what’s wrong with them.” Then, the first person rephrased: “I need you to speak louder.”

That passage was very clarifying. One way that we stay disconnected from our needs and feelings is to focus on other people—project onto them. This almost always results in judgment, generally manifested by blaming.

Getting rid of judgment allows us to connect with our own selves. Jake Eagle says that if we avoid the good/bad tags, it will be easier to be honest because we will be free of the fear of judgment (ours and other people’s), and that will facilitate greater honesty.

Honesty helps me become aware of my feelings and needs. And getting away from judgments helps me be honest. Also, getting away from labeling. A quite straightforward example: instead of saying that the other person is “aggressive,” I can say specifically what behavior of the other person’s does not meet my expectations, or that I am hurt by some gesture or word the other person spoke. The same gesture or word might not have any negative effect on someone else.

When I take responsibility for my life, I stop blaming other people for my faults or for the events I consider unpleasant. That encourages peace and fosters connection with people. Besides, I change from the role of victim to feeling like an empowered person. I have the power to choose how to feel when facing external circumstances. To take responsibility for myself means to have a greater knowledge of myself, of my inner states, which is easier to do as I get rid of labels such as “good” or “bad.” And, in this process, I liberate myself.

 

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Blog Hop

I want to thank Elyn Aviva for introducing me to the notion of a blog hop. The purpose of a blog hop is for one blogger to introduce his or her audience to another blogger whose work we highly appreciate. And also, as part of the blog hop I’ve been asked to answer a few questions about my own writing process.

Elyn Aviva

First, I want to start by introducing you to Elyn Aviva’s blog: www.powerfulplaces.com/blog. I have known Elyn for many years and one of the things that I respect the most about her is that she doesn’t just study things, she integrates into her life whatever it is that she studies. And this carries over into her writing.

Elyn doesn’t just write about visiting places, she uses her multiple personalities (Ph.D. in cultural anthropology, Masters in Divinity, and a variety of esoteric spiritual paths that she has walked) to share with her readers a unique and mind opening perspective. In addition to her blog, which she writes with her husband Gary, I recommend her book: Walking Through Cancer, A Pilgrimage of Gratitude on the Way of St. James.

As to the questions about my writing process:
1)  What am I working on/writing?

In addition to writing for our own Reology blog, I am now writing occasionally for elephant journal, and Hannah and I write a weekly blog for Psych Central: Healthy Romantic Relationships. This is a chance for us to introduce our work to a larger audience, which is part of our life purpose.

I am also starting a new series of articles/blog posts about dealing gracefully with the death of loved one. I am convinced that as a culture, for the most part, we don’t handle death and the dying  process very well—me included. Since my mother is presently facing a life-threatening situation I have decided to share aspects of my own process in developing a healthy approach to death and dying.

2) How does my work/writing differ from others of its genre?

As most people who read our blog know, we teach a new way of using language, which we call ReSpeak. The purpose of ReSpeak is to bring myself into the present, connect more deeply with myself so that I can own myself, which leads to greater clarity and certainty in my life because I no longer live in reaction to other people.

To a large extent I model the use of ReSpeak in my writing. This makes what I’m writing extremely unusual, if not for the content, then for the way in which I write. Over the years I have hesitated to fully express myself in ReSpeak when writing blog posts, but you will see me doing so more and more in the months to come. I think this is the best way I can model/share this work with other people.

3) Why do I write what I do?

I write about things that are significant in my life. What makes something significant is usually one of two things. The first has to do with struggles I have, usually emotional struggles, that when explored add richness and depth to my life. The second isn’t necessarily about struggles, but rather the ways that I have found to increase beauty, ease and simplicity in my own life and relationships.

And, one other thing, I motivate myself to write about solutions to the ways I see people treat one another that seem so unnecessarily harsh or unkind.

4) How does my writing process work?

My writing process arises from experiences in my life—with Hannah, my clients, my family, and the interactions I have with people in the world—that strike me as both profound and universal. When something captures my attention, and I think it is applicable to other people—not just me—I do one of two things. Sometimes I start making notes on scraps of paper here and there. Those scraps either evolve into something robust or I find them a month or two later and wonder what I was trying to capture.

Or, I just write—stream of consciousness—and twenty minutes later I have the first draft of an article or blog post. These are usually my preferred pieces, but they don’t happen as often as the ones that I “work” at creating. The key for me to write in this preferred way is to make the time to write when I feel inspired. If I wait, I lose something that I don’t find easy to recapture later.

Okay . . . I want to thank Elyn Aviva for introducing me to this notion of a blog hop.

And now . . . I want to pay forward and introduce you to Mike Bundrant—a colleague, friend, blogger and original thinker.

Mike Bundrant is co-founder of the iNLP Center, which offers online training in Neurolinguistic Progamming. He is also author of the book, Your Achilles Eel: Discover and Overcome the Effects of Negative Emotions, Bad Decisions and Self-Sabotage. The unique perspective in Your Achilles Eel offers a new and challenging paradigm for learning an uncomfortable truth about what really causes people to act outside their own best interests.

Mike and I started working together, teaching NLP (Neurolinguistic Programming) over fifteen years ago. We were two of the first people to introduce NLP in Japan where we established a wonderful community of friends and followers.

NLP, especially the way Mike teaches it, is another powerful linguistic model that helps people better understand and manage themselves.

Both of the people I mentioned in this blog, Elyn Aviva and Mike Bundrant, are examples of people who have committed to living healthy lives and creating respectful romantic partnerships. This is why I am proud to share them with you.

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Back To The Future—Now

BACK TO THE FUTURE

Yesterday I wore my NOW watch all day long.  This watch was a gift from my husband, Jake, on Valentines Day. The only thing on its’ face is the word NOW—a timely reminder to focus on NOW.

BUT NOW IS NOT ALWAYS AN EASY PLACE TO BE

Right now I have stitches in my mouth from surgery yesterday. Right now my mother in law has been diagnosed with a 4th stage melanoma.  Right now my mom is suffering from dementia, believing my father, who passed away last summer, is trying to steal her money.

Right now there are wars going on in a few places around the world. Right now there are people dying, suffering, children starving, people grieving.

So what’s so attractive about NOW? And what’s so wrong with spending time in the past or future?

Not a thing . . . as long as we don’t get stuck in the past with guilt or regret, there is value in our pasts. And as long as we don’t make ourselves anxious about the future, the future holds all sorts of creative possibilities.

HOW TO WORK WITH MY PAST

David Brooks just wrote a lovely article in The New York Times about a TED talk recently given by the performer Sting. In contrast to most TED talks, which are dedicated to cutting edge ideas for the future, Sting was talking about the value of going back into memories of his childhood.

By going back to the past, Sting found value in what he called “historical consciousness” which helped him get out of the creative slump he had been in for years. He talked about discovering memories of the smells and textures and conflicts of his past and his desire to escape the old shipyards of Northern England.

He discovered there was a remarkable journey that he could take . . . as David Brooks put it, “to go forward with a backward glance . . . to go one layer down into self and then after self confrontation . . . leap forward out of self”. Sting leaped forward into a fresh phase of song writing.

HOW TO LEAP INTO MY FUTURE

This is part of what we do in a Reology Retreat. We often use memories of the past to bring ourselves forward into NOW.  By definition, “historical consciousness” simply means waking ourselves up, bringing our past into our current awareness. Once aware, we can work with those memories from our more resourceful adult perspective—a more potent view than the one we had when we were young.

In doing so, I can get more in touch with my sense of myself. I can explore the building blocks of what made me who I am NOW, using my past for fertile-izer to be more alive in the present and plan for my future me.

All of my past made me ME and I’ll gladly embrace ME since I’m the only ME I have.

I will focus on NOW . . . the most desirable place for me to be, while at the same time, actively integrating my past and dynamically mapping my future.

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Can I recover from child abuse?

I left a small child—my child—over 30 years ago because I was afraid to be a mother. I made sure he was in good hands and then I ran away. For years we have pretended that what I did was acceptable because of my own pain and my terrifying childhood. Can my son recover from such child abuse? Can I recover from committing child abuse?

The worst thing I ever did

Leaving that small boy was the worst thing I ever did and I’ve been running from myself ever since. I’ve been running from me and I’ve been running from him and his experience.

Recently, I reached out to him. At first, he rejected me by not answering me. With fear in my heart, I reached out again and said, “at least give me the courtesy of a reply.” He replied. He said he hesitated to say anything because he didn’t want to lash out at me.

Now I’ve reached out to him again and asked him to be honest, even to lash out if that is what he needs to do. But will I be able to hear what he says?

Historically, what I do in these moments, these real human moments is run away, and what I’m left with is an ocean of regrets and remorse and an empty longing that nags at me by day and suffocates by night. I am left with my own creations of hurt and sadness and one of my ways out of the resulting pain is to bully someone else or punish myself.

When I examine my need to bully others what I see is that I am running from my own pain. When I fight I feel powerful, better, more alive. If I don’t fight, ah… when I don’t fight that is where the real work comes in. For the past few days I have been not fighting, I have been surrendering, giving up, opening myself to my feelings and I have been miserable. I have been punishing myself.

Is there no escape?

I have slept more in the last four days than I have ever slept. If I wasn’t working or eating I was sleeping. I showered once. I ate little, read almost nothing and only checked my email from my phone. I couldn’t wait to go to bed, to wrap myself in my blanket and drift off to sleep to escape my own sadness and my own recriminations.

Today is day five. I only slept nine hours last night and even though I fought to sleep more my body couldn’t take another hour of being prone. My legs and back were aching from inactivity and my mind, though still mostly blank and fuzzy from sleep was beginning to stir. But most importantly my heart was breaking open again and I needed to write and I needed to feel. If I use ReSpeak, I can feel myself without punishing myself . . . and there is some light in the darkness.

When I reached out to my son and he responded by telling me that he didn’t want to lash out at me, my worst fears stared me in the face. When I ran away I caused great pain—it was a form of child abuse. I hurt a child. How do I live with that awareness and how do I live with his anger?

My fear of intimacy has kept me from countless relationships and perhaps countless loving and intimate moments. I have avoided deep connections, real moments, tough moments in relationships. I’ve avoided facing you and facing me in heated moments, in tragic events and when I have done things that I can only imagine must have broken your heart.

The only way is forward

I know that my only choice is to go forward, I’ve walked too far to turn back and I’ve opened doors that I can no longer close. I’ve asked that boy, who is now a man to be honest with me and he has tentatively agreed. I choose to stand still and honor him. Anything to help him recover. Me too.

I hope I stand without shaking and I hope I can listen with compassion and bravery. I hope he sees that even though I ran away and I can’t make things different, that today I wish I had stayed. I wish I had stayed and done the right thing, I wish I had stayed and been his mom.

And ultimately, I hope that I remember this. I hope that the next time I am face to face with you and we are in trouble that I reach for your hand, tell you I am your friend and listen to you.

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How To Stay True To Self

Many of us have been to the mountain top.

We know what we feel like when we are open, loving, in touch with ourselves and accessing our own wisdom. Petty little things don’t get to us. Our love and patience are bigger than our fears. We find humor in being human.

Why don’t we stay on the mountain top—or at least return there frequently?

I recently received an email from a woman I’ve been corresponding with. She started out by saying that she wasn’t sure what she wanted in her life, she was rather self-critical and seemed uninspired. But then after we exchanged a few more emails she remembered and wrote about a time in her life when, “I saw how to be— perhaps it was more than seeing—I was actually being how I wanted to be, but then I veered off course.”

Why do we veer off course?

She went on to say, “Having had a taste of it, I should know how to get there again. I want to live fully engaged, no holding back, aware of all aspects of myself and choosing what to manifest and how to express.”

I’m going to translate the previous sentence that she wrote into ReSpeak. See if you notice a difference in how you feel when you read one and then read the other.

“Having had a taste of myself, I should know how to get back to myself again. I want to live fully engaged, no holding myself back, aware of all aspects of myself and choosing what to manifest and how to express myself.”

This woman goes on to say, ” I feel a little lazy or helpless in that I seem to struggle with how to perpetuate better ways of being even after experiencing myself this way. It feels as if I crave the company of those whose lives exemplify this way of being, to have their behavior accessible for reference, to model myself from their example.”

She asked, “Is this one of the benefits of your retreats? Seeing it happen for others helps shape one’s understanding and bolsters their resolve.”

Yes, this is exactly the benefit of our retreats. They are an invitation to fully engage, stop holding ourselves back, and become aware of all aspects our ourselves so that we can choose what we want to manifest and how we want to express ourselves. And being around other people who share this intention—even if they don’t know how to do it—helps each of us find our way.

Yet, even some of the people who come to our retreats end up veering off course, so I come back again to my question, why do we veer off course?

Why, when we have tasted our delicious selves as we wish to be, why do we then settle for gruel. After I have experience my own generosity why do I revert to stinginess? After I experience my wisdom why do I dumb myself? After I experience my own maturity why do I tolerate my immaturity? After I have felt the joy of loving, why do I withhold my love? After I have been true to self why do I abandon myself?

I believe that there are three reasons why I veer off course:

1. Effort—in the short term, it takes more effort to engage in life than to disengage.

2. Fear—”Our deepest fear is not that we are inadequate. Our deepest fear is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.” Marianne Williamson

3. Loneliness—There are fewer people on the mountain top. And those who are there have higher expectations of themselves and others.

Yes, these are the three reasons I’m aware of. Let’s explore each one.

Effort—in the short run it does take more effort to be mature, to be disciplined, to live with intention and to turn toward our partners instead of away from them in times of tension. But, if I expand my time horizon—and behave today so that I will feel good about myself tomorrow—my life is remarkably easier because of the effort I expend today.

Fear—I love that Marianne Williamson quote and there is another one, less well known, but equally profound. It comes from Scott Peck’s book, The Road Less Traveled. He too was exploring the question of why we veer off course. He asked, “Why do we resist grace?” And what follows is his answer, which references St. Augustine’s Maxim:

“If you are loving and diligent you may do whatever you want.”

“But for most people the fear that they might abuse the power is not the central issue in their resistance to grace. It is not the “Do what you want” part of St. Augustine’s Maxim that causes them indigestion but the “Be diligent” part. Most of us are like children or young adolescents; we believe that the freedom and power of adulthood is our due, but we have little taste for adult responsibility and self discipline. Much as we feel oppressed by our parents—or by society or fate—we actually seem to need to have powers above us to blame for our condition. To rise to a position of such power that we have no one to blame except ourselves is a fearful state of affairs. As has already been mentioned, were it not for God’s presence with us in that exalted position, we would be terrified by our aloneness. Still, many have so little capacity to tolerate the aloneness of power that they reject God’s presence rather than experience themselves as the sole master of their ship. Most people want peace without the aloneness of power. And they want the self-confidence of adulthood without having to grow up.”

Loneliness—Scott Peck writes beautifully about aloneness. He suggests that living fully in our power, or with grace, does result in aloneness. And that the only comfort is God’s presence in our lives (I read “God’s presence” to mean a spiritual connection).

I want to suggest that aloneness—or actually our comfort with aloneness—is a prerequisite to living in grace, or returning to our mountain top. As long as I fear aloneness, I will lazy myself, distract myself and compromise myself. These are all ways in which I avoid my existential aloneness.

So, to summarize, I veer off course because I don’t expend the energy in the short-term to stay on the mountain top. I veer off course because I fear my own power, my own light, and the immense responsibility that accompanies me. I veer off course to avoid aloneness.

Our Reology community extends an invitation to all people—male or female, looking or lost, graceful or wasteful, knowing or naught, strong or scrawny, boastful or bashful—to find, explore and live on your mountain top.

In the comments below . . . please share why you veer off course.

The post How To Stay True To Self appeared first on Reology.

Why do I bully people?

In my last blog I wrote about my fear of intimacy.

It was the most honest I’ve ever been and I’ve spent the week’s following publication watching my reactions to revealing myself. My first response was pride and a warm fuzzy feeling of having bared my soul accompanied by the devastating sadness of having wasted so much time on being fearful and selfish.

Around the same time I reached out to some of the people I had abandoned or treated poorly and perhaps not surprisingly I got no response. I troubled myself with the lack of response to my heartfelt plea—here I was baring my soul and opening my heart to you and you responded by not responding.

Poor me

After a while I began to feel sorry for myself and found it easy to slip into a tiny pool of self-pity when I wasn’t paying attention. What I was doing was asking you to make me feel better—even though I know that it is an impossible request. I am responsible for my feelings, not you. I create meaning in my life and I choose how I feel about everything that happens or happened in my life. My feelings may be so habitually ingrained that it appears that I have no choice but I do, I always have a choice in how I respond.

As time passed I communicated with Jake about my reactions and he helped me see that once again I was victimizing myself. As soon as I hear myself whisper about my own powerlessness over my own actions I now know I am causing myself deep trouble where there need be none. I actually believe myself in those moments when I tell myself, “I can’t help myself” or “I didn’t mean to say that” or “I don’t want to feel this way, but I can’t stop.”

Today begins the fourth week since my invitation to re-connect has been rejected.

So, what do I do? I pick a fight. I become a bully. Turns out I pick fights all the time; I’ve just never been awake enough to watch myself as I’m doing it. But today, I had a moment of awareness while I was phoning the city to once again complain about the management of my apartment building, and I felt myself growing bigger as I righteously complained to the city worker. I fascinated myself watching me change my stance from that of sad and miserable to that of self righteous, angry and indignant bully.

The truth is I feel better after picking the fight. Before the fight I could feel a cloud of resignation and defeat looming on my horizon, so instead of giving into being a miserable and sad victim I picked a fight and became a righteous victim. But still a victim. Holy crap what a trap I build for myself!

I call it a trap because what I am avoiding is feeling what I feel—I don’t want to acknowledge that my invitation to reconnect was scorned and that I am still grieving the results of my repeated selfish behavior. I am not yet ready to spiritually pick myself up and accept the lesson gracefully so my tendency is to sink into the abysmal cesspool of self-pity and powerlessness. And my way out of self-pity is self-righteous anger and indignation.

Underneath all of this is the cycle of repetitive stuckness. I imagine myself as a new driver whose car is stuck on the ice and all I can do is push harder on the accelerator and listen to my tires spin uselessly. That is an apt and almost perfect description of my victim cycle. I never move.

When I came home today to make my call to the city to begin my tirade against the management I passed the super on the sidewalk—normally we would greet each other, but today I ignored him completely . . . another way to be a bully. When I turned into the entrance of my building I saw the result of his attempt to deal with the sheet of ice in front of the entrance—he had sprinkled salt. What had been a stretch of ice is now a pool of icy sludge. In desperation other tenants have taken to making a pathway through the eight inches of snow piled alongside the walkway and I used that to enter my building.

Emotional sludge

What I clearly see today is that all of my actions are pointless while I am stuck in the victim cycle. Much like the salt on the ice, I create a pool of emotional sludge that goes nowhere and I use it to frustrate and anger myself.

So what the heck do I do? How do I extricate myself from my victim mentality when the cycle is so deeply embedded that I don’t even know I’m in it? Why, in the midst of my speaking with the city employee did I suddenly have the clarity that I was picking a fight as a way to lift me out of my sadness and put me back into righteousness? The answer is simple and profound. I am seeing my victim cycle more clearly today because of Reology.

In the last eighteen months I have been working closely with Jake and Hannah Eagle and I have learned the principles of Reology and I have learned the language of ReSpeak. By using these tools I am coming to accept responsibility for myself—all of me—my actions, my thoughts, my feelings and my deeply buried cycle of behaviors that have kept me locked in the prison of self-victimization. I do this to myself. I victimize myself and I fight with myself and with you to feel better about myself. After the fight I feel badly about my behavior because I yelled at you and then I’m back to feeling powerless. It’s a cycle I haven’t known how to escape.

What can I do differently?

I can begin by accepting that I live in a building whose management adheres to the policy of, “If it’s not completely broken do a temporary fix until it is.” I know this, I’ve lived here for many years, yet I still pretend to be surprised. It’s my choice to live here.

Secondly, I can remember what Jake says about kindness. No matter what the situation, I can always be kind. I’ve interacted with many supers over the years. They are paid minimum wage and get no support from the management office. It is a terrible job and I probably made his day worse by being mean and ignoring him. And, if I choose to complain, I can speak kindly, patiently and professionally with whomever is on the phone trying to fix my complaint. It is so easy to forget that I live in a city of 4.5 million people and perhaps my two-foot patch of ice is not really at the top of their priority list.

And, above all I can slow myself down and be honest about what is really going on with me. I am growing up and I am having growing pains. I am uncomfortable with my past behaviors and attitudes and my new way of being in the world isn’t instilled yet so I feel like I am slipping and sliding most of the time. I feel like an adolescent—nothing fits right; I am achy, sad and itchy most of the time. So what?

Now that I’ve sat and written myself out I am amused and abashed—amused with myself and my silliness and abashed at my persistent tendency to rush through the world based on what I am feeling, not what I know to be true.

Slow down sweetheart

My new mantra is, “slow down sweetheart, slow down and lift your eyes.” I want to remind myself to look up—at the sun, the sky, the weary winter trees.  Meet the eyes of the super, smile at him. He and I are in this together and I can choose to make him an ally or an enemy. I can make my life easy or I can make me miserable, what’s my choice to be?

Today I choose Reology and ReSpeak. My quickest and surest way of getting myself out of misery and into freedom is honesty, humor and kindness. When I remember to slow myself down and use ReSpeak, I have a leg up and a way out of my self-indulgence.

The post Why do I bully people? appeared first on Reology.

A Lesson from Nelson Mandela – (original article as published in elephant journal)

We all make choices—adopt beliefs—that alter the trajectory of our lives.

Some of these choices have long lasting consequences. One such choice has to do with whether we frame things in a binary way, such as “us vs. them,” or whether we frame things based on the notion that “we are all in this together.”

Do you identify yourself as being alone, or together with others?

I’ve been exploring this question recently as I read My Promised Land by Ari Shavit. It’s a beautifully written book that tells of the triumph and tragedy of Israel. Shavit’s great-grandfather first visited Israel in 1897 and he was one of the founders of Zionism, which supports Jews in maintaining their Jewish identity and creating a Jewish homeland.

As Shavit revisits Israel’s infancy, he tells of the early decades of the 1920’s and 30s which were exceptionally good for the Jews of Palestine. The economy was booming and the culture was blooming. As Shavit writes, “Their life experience is that of an astounding collective success, based on self-reliance and innovation.”

But, then things change as a result of a civil war from 1936–39. The Jewish leadership and Jewish community as a whole adopted the belief: “us or them, life or death.” Innocence was replaced with innocent victims—Jews killing Arabs and Arabs killing Jews. As a result of adopting an “us or them” perspective, the Jews in Israel have lived embattled ever since.

Choosing survival, but at what price?

It is possible that if the Jews hadn’t adopted an “us vs. them” perspective they may not have survived. But, paradoxically, as a result of adopting such a perspective they assured themselves a life of continual conflict and anxiety about their survival.

An alternative approach can be seen in the actions of Nelson Mandela who chose not “us or them,” but “all of us together.” He insisted that domination—white over black or black over white—was not an option. How did he arrive at such an enlightened stance?

Some say that it was because he embodied a remarkable capacity for forgiveness. Personally, I do not believe it was forgiveness, but pragmatism. He chose the path that promised the greatest hope—not just for his people, but for all people.

27 years in prison

Although angry when he went to prison, he matured while in prison and by time he was released he was able to see the long view, which is a characteristic of maturity. He knew that an “us vs. them” stance would result in retaliation and endless struggle.

Instead of “us vs. them” he elevated the conversation and promoted an understanding that differences between people do exist and only by respecting those differences, not resenting them, would the South Africans find peace and eventual prosperity.

These histories of Israel and South Africa will play out for generations to come. The choice of “us or them” looks ominous, the choice of “all of us together” looks auspicious.

Do you imprison yourself?

And we each make a similar choice in our own lives, in our marriages and other important relationships. We can see the world through an “us or them” filter and therefore stimulate fear, defensiveness, aggression, and alienation. Or, we can see the world through an “all of us together” filter, thus stimulating understanding, cooperation, openness, and connection.

Where does the “us vs. them” perspective come from?

I believe it comes from the most primitive parts of our brains, the survival circuits. When we feel threatened we reach for the only tools our primitive brains know: fighting, fleeing, or freezing. You may think you don’t do these things, but when you insist you are right and you make other people wrong—that’s your fighting circuitry. When you walk out of a room in the middle of a conversation, or simply stop listening—that’s your fleeing circuitry. When you paralyze yourself, stop expressing your true feelings or go into confusion—that’s your freezing circuity.

Us or them. Good or bad. Right or wrong. Black or white. All of these overly simplistic distinctions stimulate the fear centers of our brains.

But we have a choice.

If we learn to make finer and finer distinctions, which is a sign of greater intelligence, we activate the more advanced parts of our brains. This is precisely what happens when we learn to use ReSpeak. We slow ourselves down, we become more deliberate. We see every situation is comprised of multiple perspectives—as many perspectives as there are people. We stop telling other people about them. We stop trying to control other people.

We become more vulnerable and in doing so we connect more deeply with other people. We recognize our differences while feeling our similarities.

This was the choice that Nelson Mandela made.

And he advocated that Jews make a similar choice. He once remarked, “We know too well that our freedom will be incomplete without the freedom of the Palestinians.” And at the same time he acknowledged that the formal recognition of Israel as a Jewish state was an essential ingredient for peaceful co-existence.

Some people have referred to Madiba’s philosophy as the philosophy of “yes.” I encourage you to bring this philosophy of “yes” into your life and your relationships. When there is tension, always ask the question, “What can we say ‘yes’ to?” My wife, Hannah, and I always revert to these simple questions when we experience tension in our relationship. We ask,

Are we friends?

Do we love each other?

Do we want to reconnect?

Because we answer these questions with a resounding “yes,” we re-establish a loving connection. It works every time.

And, if the philosophy of “yes” seems a bit too vague—which I think it is for many people—I recommend that you practice these three communication skills which will lead to greater understanding:

1. When there is tension in your personal relationship and you need to clear the air, ask the questions listed above. If you don’t choose to reconnect, postpone having a conversation until you do desire to reconnect.

2. Restrict your conversation to talking about what is happening right now. How do you feel right now? What do you want from the other person right now? What are you asking the other person to consider right now? Don’t talk about historical matters, like who said what or who did what when. Just accept that you have different experiences of what happened.

3. Take responsibility for what you feel.

Instead of saying, “You make me angry,” try saying, “I’m angering myself.”

Instead of saying, “You embarrassed me,” try saying “I embarrass myself.”

This way of using language—verbing—was written about in a previous elephant journal article, Changing Our Language Can Change Our Lives.

And, finally, if you are relating with other people who choose to see the world in black and white terms, and who choose to think they are right by making you wrong, and who do not deeply care about how you feel—then you may not be able to rise above those severe limitations and practice a different approach.

You may need to remove yourself from such relationships—even if they are familial.

Choose yes.

 

(The original version of this article was published in elephant journal. It’s the same as what you just read. But, it’s also been translated into ReSpeak and I strongly encourage you to open both versions—in two different browser windows—so that you can compare them side by side.)

The post A Lesson from Nelson Mandela – (original article as published in elephant journal) appeared first on Reology.

My Lesson from Nelson Mandela – (translated into ReSpeak)

I make choices — I adopt beliefs — and I alter the trajectory of my life.

Some of my choices have long-lasting consequences for me. One of my choices has to do with whether I frame myself in a binary way, such as “me vs. them,” or whether I frame myself based on my notion that “we are all in this together.”

Do I identify myself as being alone, or together with others and myself?

I explore this question as I read “My Promised Land” by Ari Shavit. I have this book be beautifully written, and it tells me of the triumph and tragedy of Israel. Shavit’s great-grandfather first visited Israel in 1897 and he was one of the founders of Zionism, which supports Jews in maintaining their Jewish identity and creating a Jewish homeland.

As Shavit revisits Israel’s infancy, he tells of the early decades of the 1920’s and 30s which were exceptionally good for the Jews of Palestine. The economy was booming and the culture was blooming. As Shavit writes, “Their life experience is that of an astounding collective success, based on self-reliance and innovation.”

But, then things change as a result of a civil war from 1936–39. The Jewish leadership and Jewish community as a whole adopted the belief: “us or them, life or death.” Innocence was replaced with innocent victims — Jews killing Arabs and Arabs killing Jews. As a result of adopting an “us or them” perspective, the Jews in Israel have lived embattled ever since.

Choosing my survival, but at what price for me?

It is possible that if I hadn’t adopted a “me vs. them” perspective I may not have survived? But, paradoxically, as a result of me adopting such a perspective I assure myself of a life of continual conflict and anxiety about my survival.

An alternative approach for me can be seen in the actions of the Nelson Mandela who chooses not “us or them,” but “all of us together.” With this model in mind I insist that domination — white over black or black over white — is not an option for me. How do I arrive at such an enlightened stance?

I say that it is because I embody a remarkable capacity for forgiveness. Actually, I do not believe I am choosing forgiveness, but pragmatism. I choose the path that promises my greatest hope — not just for myself, but for all people.

27 years in prison

Although I anger myself when I imprison myself, I mature myself, and by the time I release myself from my prison I am able to see my long view, which I have be a characteristic of my maturity. I know that a “me vs. them” stance results in my retaliation and my endless struggle.

Instead of “me vs. them” I elevate my conversation and promote my understanding that differences between myself and others and within myself, do exist, and only by respecting my differences, not resenting them, do I find my peace and my eventual prosperity.

My history plays out for my generations to come. I have my choice of “me vs. them” look ominous to me. I have my choice of “all of us together” look auspicious to me.

Do I imprison myself?

I make a similar choice in my own life, in my marriage, and in my other important relationships. I can see the world through an “us or them” filter and therefore stimulate my fear, my defensiveness, my aggression, and my alienation. Or, I can see my world through an “all of us together” filter, thus stimulating my understanding, my cooperation, my openness, and my connection.

Where does my “me vs. them” perspective come from?

I believe it comes from my most primitive parts of my brain, my survival circuits. When I feel threatened, I reach for the only tools my primitive brain knows: fighting,  fleeing, or  freezing. I may think I don’t do these things, but when I insist I am right and I make other people wrong —that’s my fighting circuitry. When I walk out of a room in the middle of a conversation, or when I simply stop listening — that’s my fleeing circuitry. When I paralyze myself, I stop expressing my true feelings or I have myself go into my confusion— that’s my freezing circuity.

Us or them. Good or bad. Right or wrong. Black or white. All of these overly simplistic distinctions are ways that I stimulate my fear centers in my brain.

But I have a choice. I give myself a choice. I have myself choose.

If I learn to make finer and finer distinctions in myself, which I have be a sign of my greater intelligence, I activate my more advanced parts of my brain. This is precisely what happens in me when I learn to use ReSpeak. I slow myself down. I have myself become more deliberate. I see that every one of my situations is comprised of my multiple perspectives — as many perspectives as there are parts-of-me. I stop telling other people about them. I stop trying to control other people.

I have myself become more vulnerable and in doing so I connect more deeply with other people and with myself. I recognize my differences while feeling my similarities.

This is the choice that I have made.

And I advocate that Jews make a similar choice. Mandela once remark, “I know too well that my freedom will be incomplete without the freedom of others.” Because of his statement I acknowledge that the formal recognition of the other person is an essential ingredient for my peaceful co-existence with them and with the them-in-me.

Some people have referred to Madiba’s philosophy as the philosophy of “yes.” I encourage myself to bring his philosophy of “yes” into my life and my relationships. When I make myself tense, I always ask myself the question, “What can I say ‘yes’ to?” I always revert to my simple questions when I experience tension in myself. I ask,

Am I friends with myself?

Do I love myself?

Do I want to reconnect with myself?

Because I answer my questions with a resounding “yes,” I re-establish a loving connection with myself. I have this work for me every time.

And, if my philosophy of “yes” seems a bit too vague — I recommend practicing three communication skills which lead me to greater understanding of myself:

1. When I tense myself in my relationship with myself, and I need to clear my air, I ask my questions listed above. If I don’t choose to reconnect with myself, I postpone having a conversation until I do desire to reconnect with myself.

2. I restrict my conversation to talking about what is happening to me right now.

How do I have myself feel right now?

What do I want from myself right now?

What am I asking myself to consider right now?

I don’t talk about historical matters, like who said what or who did what when. I just accept that I have a different experience of what is happening in me.

3. I take responsibility for what I feel.

Instead of saying, “You make me angry,” I say, “I’m angering myself.”

Instead of saying, “You embarrassed me,” I say “I embarrass myself.”

This way I choose to use language — verbing myself — was written about in a previous elephant journal article, Changing Our Language Can Change Our Lives.

And, finally, if I have myself choose to see my world in black and white terms, and I choose to think I am right by making other people wrong, and I have myself not deeply care about how I feel — then I may not be able to raise myself above my severe limitations and practice a different approach for myself.

I may choose to remove myself from these parts-of-me — even if I have them be familial in myself.

I have myself Choose Yes.

 

(The original version of this article was published in elephant journal. That version can also be on our website by clicking here. I strongly encourage you to open both versions—in two different browser windows—so that you can compare them side by side.)

The post My Lesson from Nelson Mandela – (translated into ReSpeak) appeared first on Reology.

Four Mistakes That Couples Make

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I spend several hours every week watching smart people make terrible mistakes in how they treat their lovers/partners. What follows is a list of the four major mistakes I see couples make.

If I do nothing more than commit myself to avoiding these four mistakes, I radically improve the quality of my partnership.

1. Comparing your new partner to the person you just left behind

I see this all the time with my clients. They break up with someone or divorce their partner and then they get involved in a new partnership. And when they tell me about it they make claims like, “Well, he’s better than Bob.” Or, “At least she’s not an angry person like Jane.” They compare their current lover to their past lover—the one they just left.

But this is like driving a car by looking in the rearview mirror. The point isn’t to compare your new partner to previous partners who you deemed to be wrong for you. The point is to compare your new potential partner to the kind of partner you want to have.

2. Making your partner wrong

Sadly, I see this dynamic too often—lovers who are intent upon making their partner wrong. Wrong about their feelings—”I feel scared.” “No you don’t, you’re just tired.” Wrong about their perceptions—”This is my favorite beach.” “It doesn’t compare to the place we visited last year.” Wrong about their behaviors—”You shouldn’t laugh so loud.” Wrong about what they remember—”No that’s not what you said, you said . . .”.

The solution is simple and respectful. Whatever your partner says, s/he is always right. Seriously, whatever your partner tells you, s/he is right. Unless you think your partner is a liar, in which case you have a more serious problem. But, if you fundamentally believe that your partner is an honest person, then whatever s/he says—believe her, believe him. Start with this generosity and you will immediately make it easier to connect.

3. Tolerating immature behavior

When I tolerate immature behavior—in myself or in my partner—I get good at one thing, tolerating immature behavior. Repeating anything makes me better at whatever it is I’m repeating. But is tolerating immature behavior something I want to get good at? Because when I “tolerate” immature behavior I usually end up repressing my true feelings . . . which leads to irritating myself . . . which leads to victimizing myself. This is not the kind of stuff I want to get good at.

The alternative, again, is simple. It’s a matter of learning how to give mature expression to my feelings and needs. And I ask the same of my wife, Hannah. I don’t ever want Hannah to feel that she can’t come to me and share her feelings or needs. I only ask that she try to give a mature voice to her feelings. Some people disagree with this idea. They think that cathartic expression of their emotions is important. Some people believe that the extreme change in emotions—from calm to intense—is what results in renewal and restoration.

Maybe, maybe not. But I do know that renewal and restoration is achievable through the mature expression of our feelings and needs. And, as I said earlier, we get good at whatever we repeat. So the more I behave in a certain way, the more cortical real estate I develop to support that particular behavior. If I repeatedly rely on cathartic expression of my emotions, I increase the likelihood that I will behave this way in the future. If I repeatedly practice mature expression of my emotions, I increase the likelihood that I will behave this way in the future.

4. Being too coarse

Too coarse, too casual—do you know what I mean? In part it comes down to taking my partner for granted. Not treating her like she is the most special person in my life. Or saying hurtful things, which people do and then justify when they are angry, “You’re stupid,” or “Go to hell,” or “I hate you.” I believe these behaviors erode something sacred: safety.

I have discovered a wonderful paradox in relating with Hannah. We treat our relationship as if it’s fragile, and as a result, our relationship feels robust. But, if we treated our relationship as if it were robust, I suspect we’d find out it isn’t. When I say we treat our relationship as if it’s fragile, what I mean is that we are thoughtful about how we treat one another—all the time. We never say hurtful things. We don’t take one another for granted. We nip hurt feelings in the bud so that they don’t take root and grow.

And it works . . .

Why, if my suggestions are so simple, do they seem so hard to do?

We’re with the wrong partner. A poor fit. We simply have very different styles and values. Or, maybe we just lack good chemistry. Or, at a deeper level, maybe we don’t feel safe with our partner.
We focus on the wrong stuff. Maybe what we have is actually pretty good, but we’re just so busy focusing on our problems and what doesn’t work that we don’t live up to our potential.
We use the wrong language—this is true of most of us. We learned to use language in a way that made us think other people are largely responsible for how we feel. We learned to use language in a way that encouraged us to focus on the past and worry about the future. The only solution I know to correct our early life learning is to learn how to ReSpeak.

This is the invitation of Reology. We invite you to come on retreat, so that you can recalibrate, and then reconnect—with yourself and other people.

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