I try, whenever possible, to keep toxic people out of my life. I encourage others to do the same. For me, a rule of thumb is: if the negative things a person brings to your life far outweigh the positive the relationship is toxic.
Unfortunately, it is not always possible to avoid interactions with toxic people. The toxic individual in question might be your boss, your child's teacher, a coworker in the cubicle next to yours, your neighbor, etc. You can - and probably should - limit your interactions with these people. Still, it is simply not possible to avoid them altogether.
That's the situation I find myself in now with my husband's ex wife, who is also the mother of his five year old daughter. This woman is about as toxic as they come! (I won't get into specific details. There's no point in trashing her in a public forum. Neither does it seem particularly appropriate to air the stains on my dirty laundry in such a venue). My strong preference would be to avoid all dealings with this woman. While I do keep our contact to a (bare) minimum, there are still times when I have to engage with her (like when I pick up my stepdaughter for our weekend with her because my husband has to work late on Friday nights).
Interacting with this woman has an emotional and even physical impact on me. On days I have to meet her to pick up my stepdaughter my chest is so tight with anxiety that it aches from the time I wake up in the morning until the whole ordeal is over. When I first met her I tried to introduce myself and be friendly. She was not receptive. Initially, I thought she would become less hostile over time. About a year has passed since we first met; things have not changed much. I have to accept that she might never become less hostile towards me (and my husband).
The reality is that if my interactions with her are going to become less emotionally distressing for me it's not going to be because she becomes friendlier. I am going to have to look inside myself to find peace. But what am I looking for?
I once read that when we don't like a particular individual it is because we dislike the emotions we experience when we are in that person's presence. Something about the person evokes in us a negative emotional response; we interpret this response to mean that we do not like the individual who triggered it. Theoretically, however, our emotional reactions to people say more about us than they say about the people who trigger them.
Cher Huber, noted author and Zen teacher (http://cherihuber.com), goes one step further. She states that not only do we not like being in the presence of someone we do not like; we do not like ourselves when we are in that person's presence either!
I look to my experience with my husband's ex-wife to see if this fits; it does. When I'm in her presence I stop being myself. I become focused on not setting her off. Suddenly, I feel like I'm eleven years old again, trying to be invisible so as to avoid being targeted by the classroom bully.
Cheri Huber suggests that we can make it easier to be in the presence of a person we dislike by turning our attention inward and remaining focused on liking ourselves. I've given some thought as to how to go about doing this. I've decided that the next time I have to interact with my stepdaughter's mother I will be armed with some self-empowering mantras I can repeat to myself throughout the encounter. I'm hoping this will help me to stay in touch with my "real self." I also hope it will help me to reach some sort of peace with the situation as it is. While I have to interact with this woman I DO NOT have to allow it to make me miserable.
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Sunday, August 21, 2011
False Self
I've still been thinking a lot about the concept of differentiation. The idea was advanced by Dr. M. Bowen, who developed a practice model called Family Systems Theory. I vaguely remember learning about this in college. I've discovered, though, that different notions strike a chord at different times. In college, for example, when I was first introduced to Bowen's ideas, I was not particularly impressed by them. I didn't (and still don't) want to do family therapy so a family systems theory just wasn't that interesting to me. Fast forward six years. I am exposed to the same information at a different point in time and I realize it is the link that ties all the other clinical knowledge and skills I've gained over the years together. It's like a light bulb went off! Differentiation is most of the therapy process is all about! When a person comes to me for help, what I'm really trying to do is help that individual develop the skills he needs to increase his level of differentiation!
I know, it's not exactly a revolutionary idea. It's just that it's all coming together in my mind and I'm excited...
Anyway. The ultimate goal of a child's psychological development is a healthy adult identity. If parents meet the child's basic emotional needs during each stage of development the child gains confidence in himself as a person. He develops a clear, solid sense of who he is and what he stands for. The child becomes a well-differentiated adult.
If, however, the child's basic emotional needs are not met (for whatever reason), he will not have the inner resources he needs in order to feel sure about who he is as a person. Instead of becoming a healthy adult, he develops a "false self."
What is a false self? It's essentially an adopted or borrowed identity that changes depending upon the context. Having a false self is like wearing a thin shell that provides just enough of an exterior to allow you to blend in with everyone else. The shell itself is hollow; because of its thin skin and empty interior it is extremely fragile and easily broken. It needs to fill itself up and become more solid in order to ensure its survival. It cannot do this alone; it needs other people to fill it with substance and increase its solidity.
So what does a false self look like? A person with only a false self constantly changes his attitudes and beliefs to promote a sense of comfort and stability in his relationship or relationships. He has virtually no idea what he actually believes or values; it's irrelevant. His primary concern is to prevent conflict in important relationships so that they remain intact. (After all, he needs these relationships to "fill him up," i.e., to tell him who he is). His beliefs therefore can and often do change quite rapidly. A belief is quickly abandoned if it no longer supports and preserves an important relationship. Beliefs that do seem to support important relationships tend to be rigid and resistant to change, even in the face of irrefutable evidence that the beliefs are unreasonable or even false.
(I once had a roommate who jumped from relationship to relationship. It baffled me how within a week of ending a purportedly "serious" relationship she was always able to find someone else with whom she quickly became "serious." Her interests and extracurricular activities changed with each boyfriend. Each new boyfriend was also accompanied by a new set of "friends." She did have two or three friendships that did not appear to be dependent upon her romantic relationships; I noticed that these friends frequently expressed concern about her behavior and often tried to encourage her to take a temporary break from dating).
A person with only a false self is dominated by his emotions. He has little or no insight into his thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. He identifies completely with his emotions without ever stopping to consider what assumptions or beliefs might fuel them. He has difficulty accepting responsibility for how he feels; rather, he blames others for "causing" his emotions. His feelings are his Truth (with a capital T). For someone with a false self, his emotions at any given moment are a direct reaction to what is transpiring in his primary interpersonal relationship (or relationships). Therefore, his emotional stability is completely dependent upon the stability of this (or these) relationship (or relationships).
Everyone has a false self, to one degree or another. People who are more differentiated, however, also have a true or "solid" self. The higher a person's level of differentiation the more his true self is in control. The true self is everything the false self is not. When the true self is in control, a person's beliefs are guided by his individual goals and values. His beliefs might change in response to new information; they do not, however, fluctuate in ways that ensure stability in an important relationship (or relationships). The personal worth of someone with a true self comes from within; it is not dependent upon other people for validation. When a person operates in "true self mode," he takes responsibility for calming his own emotions instead of expecting others to make him feel better or alleviate his distress.
To me, mindfulness plays an invaluable role in strengthening our true selves. The more we learn to observe our emotions without judgment the less reactive we become. If we can adopt a curious and accepting attitude towards our feelings we can learn to contain them ourselves; this decreases our reliance on others for soothing our negative emotions.
I think I've written more than enough today. I'm pretty sure, though, that I have a lot more to say on the subject:-)
I know, it's not exactly a revolutionary idea. It's just that it's all coming together in my mind and I'm excited...
Anyway. The ultimate goal of a child's psychological development is a healthy adult identity. If parents meet the child's basic emotional needs during each stage of development the child gains confidence in himself as a person. He develops a clear, solid sense of who he is and what he stands for. The child becomes a well-differentiated adult.
If, however, the child's basic emotional needs are not met (for whatever reason), he will not have the inner resources he needs in order to feel sure about who he is as a person. Instead of becoming a healthy adult, he develops a "false self."
What is a false self? It's essentially an adopted or borrowed identity that changes depending upon the context. Having a false self is like wearing a thin shell that provides just enough of an exterior to allow you to blend in with everyone else. The shell itself is hollow; because of its thin skin and empty interior it is extremely fragile and easily broken. It needs to fill itself up and become more solid in order to ensure its survival. It cannot do this alone; it needs other people to fill it with substance and increase its solidity.
So what does a false self look like? A person with only a false self constantly changes his attitudes and beliefs to promote a sense of comfort and stability in his relationship or relationships. He has virtually no idea what he actually believes or values; it's irrelevant. His primary concern is to prevent conflict in important relationships so that they remain intact. (After all, he needs these relationships to "fill him up," i.e., to tell him who he is). His beliefs therefore can and often do change quite rapidly. A belief is quickly abandoned if it no longer supports and preserves an important relationship. Beliefs that do seem to support important relationships tend to be rigid and resistant to change, even in the face of irrefutable evidence that the beliefs are unreasonable or even false.
(I once had a roommate who jumped from relationship to relationship. It baffled me how within a week of ending a purportedly "serious" relationship she was always able to find someone else with whom she quickly became "serious." Her interests and extracurricular activities changed with each boyfriend. Each new boyfriend was also accompanied by a new set of "friends." She did have two or three friendships that did not appear to be dependent upon her romantic relationships; I noticed that these friends frequently expressed concern about her behavior and often tried to encourage her to take a temporary break from dating).
A person with only a false self is dominated by his emotions. He has little or no insight into his thoughts, feelings, or behaviors. He identifies completely with his emotions without ever stopping to consider what assumptions or beliefs might fuel them. He has difficulty accepting responsibility for how he feels; rather, he blames others for "causing" his emotions. His feelings are his Truth (with a capital T). For someone with a false self, his emotions at any given moment are a direct reaction to what is transpiring in his primary interpersonal relationship (or relationships). Therefore, his emotional stability is completely dependent upon the stability of this (or these) relationship (or relationships).
Everyone has a false self, to one degree or another. People who are more differentiated, however, also have a true or "solid" self. The higher a person's level of differentiation the more his true self is in control. The true self is everything the false self is not. When the true self is in control, a person's beliefs are guided by his individual goals and values. His beliefs might change in response to new information; they do not, however, fluctuate in ways that ensure stability in an important relationship (or relationships). The personal worth of someone with a true self comes from within; it is not dependent upon other people for validation. When a person operates in "true self mode," he takes responsibility for calming his own emotions instead of expecting others to make him feel better or alleviate his distress.
To me, mindfulness plays an invaluable role in strengthening our true selves. The more we learn to observe our emotions without judgment the less reactive we become. If we can adopt a curious and accepting attitude towards our feelings we can learn to contain them ourselves; this decreases our reliance on others for soothing our negative emotions.
I think I've written more than enough today. I'm pretty sure, though, that I have a lot more to say on the subject:-)
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Differentiation
I've been thinking a lot recently about the concept of differentiation. Differentiation is an outgrowth of normal psychological and emotional development. It gradually develops throughout childhood and adolescence. If all goes well, the process culminates in an adult with a well defined sense of self and the capacity for intimate relationships with others. Different people achieve varying levels of differentiation. The Bowen Center (http://www.thebowncenter.org/) explains the difference between a well-differentiated individual and someone who is poorly differentiated.
A person with a poorly differentiated self needs frequent approval and validation from others in order to feel good about himself and to maintain an inner sense of stability. Without it, a poorly differentiated person feels unworthy, insignificant, and even empty. Because he needs others' approval and validation in order to feel stable, a poorly differentiated person tries to control the people in his life, either overtly or covertly.
These are the people you know with "control issues." They are the ones who cannot tolerate disagreement from others. They are easily overwhelmed by their emotions and look to external sources (such as alcohol, sex, eating, shopping, etc.) for comfort when they are distressed. They are those who go along with what "everyone else" says and does and who are not able to stand up for themselves or to speak their minds. They often have problems in interpersonal relationships because they expect others to meet their emotional needs and feel angry or rejected when they don't.
A well-differentiated person recognizes the importance of interpersonal relationships and acknowledges their influence on his thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. He has, however, a clear set of values and goals that guide his decisions. He experiences strong emotions but is not controlled by them. He is comfortable accepting or rejecting another's viewpoint based on its merits, not on his desire to influence the other's opinion of him. He is able to comfort himself when he is upset and copes with negative emotions in ways that are not harmful to himself nor to others. He is comfortable with himself and so has no anxiety about revealing his true self to other people in the context of an intimate relationship.
So what determines an individual's level of differentiation? This is one instance where the cliche that all adult problems have their origins in childhood actually applies. The level of differentiation you achieve depends upon the degree to which your family of origin meets your emotional and psychological needs throughout your childhood, thereby endowing you with the inner resources needed for you to grow and develop as an individual. Dr. Robert Noone describes this as "the degree to which the emotional unit of the family has been able to allow that individual to grow toward emotional maturity."
The theory is that individuals achieve about the same level of differentiation as their parents and that by the time an individual reaches adulthood, his or her level of differentiation is pretty well established. It is very difficult - but NOT impossible - to achieve higher levels of differentiation after a person reaches adulthood.
There is actually a scale that measures an individual's level of differentiation. Here's the link, if you're interested: http://www.personal.psu.edu/eas14/The%20Differentiation%20of%20Self%20Inventory,%20Development%20and%20initial%20validation.pdf
It's a PDF file; the scale is on the last page (pg. 12 of 12). I haven't taken it yet, but I'll share my score as soon as I do.
A person with a poorly differentiated self needs frequent approval and validation from others in order to feel good about himself and to maintain an inner sense of stability. Without it, a poorly differentiated person feels unworthy, insignificant, and even empty. Because he needs others' approval and validation in order to feel stable, a poorly differentiated person tries to control the people in his life, either overtly or covertly.
These are the people you know with "control issues." They are the ones who cannot tolerate disagreement from others. They are easily overwhelmed by their emotions and look to external sources (such as alcohol, sex, eating, shopping, etc.) for comfort when they are distressed. They are those who go along with what "everyone else" says and does and who are not able to stand up for themselves or to speak their minds. They often have problems in interpersonal relationships because they expect others to meet their emotional needs and feel angry or rejected when they don't.
A well-differentiated person recognizes the importance of interpersonal relationships and acknowledges their influence on his thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. He has, however, a clear set of values and goals that guide his decisions. He experiences strong emotions but is not controlled by them. He is comfortable accepting or rejecting another's viewpoint based on its merits, not on his desire to influence the other's opinion of him. He is able to comfort himself when he is upset and copes with negative emotions in ways that are not harmful to himself nor to others. He is comfortable with himself and so has no anxiety about revealing his true self to other people in the context of an intimate relationship.
So what determines an individual's level of differentiation? This is one instance where the cliche that all adult problems have their origins in childhood actually applies. The level of differentiation you achieve depends upon the degree to which your family of origin meets your emotional and psychological needs throughout your childhood, thereby endowing you with the inner resources needed for you to grow and develop as an individual. Dr. Robert Noone describes this as "the degree to which the emotional unit of the family has been able to allow that individual to grow toward emotional maturity."
The theory is that individuals achieve about the same level of differentiation as their parents and that by the time an individual reaches adulthood, his or her level of differentiation is pretty well established. It is very difficult - but NOT impossible - to achieve higher levels of differentiation after a person reaches adulthood.
There is actually a scale that measures an individual's level of differentiation. Here's the link, if you're interested: http://www.personal.psu.edu/eas14/The%20Differentiation%20of%20Self%20Inventory,%20Development%20and%20initial%20validation.pdf
It's a PDF file; the scale is on the last page (pg. 12 of 12). I haven't taken it yet, but I'll share my score as soon as I do.
Sunday, August 7, 2011
Seeing yourself as others see you
Do you ever wonder how other people perceive you? It's probably safe to assume that the way others see you is at least a little different than you see yourself (and at times might differ significantly). You can make inferences about how you come across to others from the verbal and non-verbal messages they send when you interact with them; but short of someone "cluing you in" or asking others for feedback directly, it's very difficult to know with any certainty what you look like to the rest of the world.
Most of us operate under the mistaken assumption that other people see things the same way we do. This can create a lot of unnecessary conflict. For example, when someone is rude to us we assume this person intended to be rude. We then draw our own conclusions about why that person was rude: he doesn't like us, he's rude to everyone and is basically just an asshole overall, the stress of a new promotion is too much for him and he's on the verge of a breakdown, etc. Any and/or all of these things could be true -- or not. It could be that the person didn't mean to be rude at all and has no idea he came across that way.
As a rule, I am a big fan of open communication and not jumping to conclusions. I believe it is always best to check your perceptions before making assumptions about the motivations of others. Despite this (and I'm sure I am not alone), I still find myself coming across in ways I don't intend.
A couple of years ago, it became apparent to me and to many of my colleagues that my boss did not like me very much. My initial response to this realization was, "Good. The feeling is mutual." Over time - and with a little persuasion from a couple of trusted coworkers - I decided that it really was in my best interest to be on my boss' good side -- or at least not on his bad side. After all, he was in charge of a lot of decisions that could have a significant impact on me. The problem was, how did I fix things when I had no idea what I'd done to rub my boss the wrong way?
Fortunately, I had a couple of more experienced colleagues who were sort of like mentors to me. They explained that my boss thought I was rude and disrespectful because I was always doing something other than paying attention at meetings, I never contributed to group discussions, and I barely seemed to listen when he talked to me.
This came as a complete surprise to me, although I could see how he might interpret my behaviors the way that he did. See, I'm the type of person who tends to be in "my own little world," especially when I'm in a large group of people. I also have a really difficult time paying attention for long periods of time while someone stands at the front of a room and talks. (It's always been a problem, even in college). In addition, when I'm focused on something it's hard for me to pull my attention away from it, even when someone like my boss walks into the office to talk to me.
It was never my intention to be disrespectful or dismissive, but that's how I was perceived. Once I was made aware of how my boss viewed my actions I made a conscious effort to change them. I went out of my way to contribute to discussions and to participate during meetings. I also went out of my way to be friendly to him. And my efforts paid off. A year later, my boss went to bat for me when the clinic manager at my work site bad mouthed me to a superior. I was glad to have his support and I told him so.
That's a story with a happy ending but I'm still a work in progress -- we all are. I recently discovered that my husband thinks I am selfish because I don't like to share or loan things to people. (On the flip side, I also hate borrowing things from other people. I don't like having outstanding loans, be it to another person or to the power company). I understand how not wanting to share with others can be seen as selfish. Really, though, my discomfort with this stems from anxiety. Although I realize it's unreasonable, I like to have all things in their proper places. It really bothers me when something is out of place. Obviously, if someone else is borrowing something from me that thing can not be in its "proper place." It just creates a lot of anxiety.
I got defensive when my husband told me how he perceived my unwillingness to share. Later, though, I realized that it was important for me to know. It's important to understand how your behaviors are perceived by others, even if you ultimately decide not to change them; it is an invaluable tool for increasing self-awareness and stimulating self-growth.
Most of us operate under the mistaken assumption that other people see things the same way we do. This can create a lot of unnecessary conflict. For example, when someone is rude to us we assume this person intended to be rude. We then draw our own conclusions about why that person was rude: he doesn't like us, he's rude to everyone and is basically just an asshole overall, the stress of a new promotion is too much for him and he's on the verge of a breakdown, etc. Any and/or all of these things could be true -- or not. It could be that the person didn't mean to be rude at all and has no idea he came across that way.
As a rule, I am a big fan of open communication and not jumping to conclusions. I believe it is always best to check your perceptions before making assumptions about the motivations of others. Despite this (and I'm sure I am not alone), I still find myself coming across in ways I don't intend.
A couple of years ago, it became apparent to me and to many of my colleagues that my boss did not like me very much. My initial response to this realization was, "Good. The feeling is mutual." Over time - and with a little persuasion from a couple of trusted coworkers - I decided that it really was in my best interest to be on my boss' good side -- or at least not on his bad side. After all, he was in charge of a lot of decisions that could have a significant impact on me. The problem was, how did I fix things when I had no idea what I'd done to rub my boss the wrong way?
Fortunately, I had a couple of more experienced colleagues who were sort of like mentors to me. They explained that my boss thought I was rude and disrespectful because I was always doing something other than paying attention at meetings, I never contributed to group discussions, and I barely seemed to listen when he talked to me.
This came as a complete surprise to me, although I could see how he might interpret my behaviors the way that he did. See, I'm the type of person who tends to be in "my own little world," especially when I'm in a large group of people. I also have a really difficult time paying attention for long periods of time while someone stands at the front of a room and talks. (It's always been a problem, even in college). In addition, when I'm focused on something it's hard for me to pull my attention away from it, even when someone like my boss walks into the office to talk to me.
It was never my intention to be disrespectful or dismissive, but that's how I was perceived. Once I was made aware of how my boss viewed my actions I made a conscious effort to change them. I went out of my way to contribute to discussions and to participate during meetings. I also went out of my way to be friendly to him. And my efforts paid off. A year later, my boss went to bat for me when the clinic manager at my work site bad mouthed me to a superior. I was glad to have his support and I told him so.
That's a story with a happy ending but I'm still a work in progress -- we all are. I recently discovered that my husband thinks I am selfish because I don't like to share or loan things to people. (On the flip side, I also hate borrowing things from other people. I don't like having outstanding loans, be it to another person or to the power company). I understand how not wanting to share with others can be seen as selfish. Really, though, my discomfort with this stems from anxiety. Although I realize it's unreasonable, I like to have all things in their proper places. It really bothers me when something is out of place. Obviously, if someone else is borrowing something from me that thing can not be in its "proper place." It just creates a lot of anxiety.
I got defensive when my husband told me how he perceived my unwillingness to share. Later, though, I realized that it was important for me to know. It's important to understand how your behaviors are perceived by others, even if you ultimately decide not to change them; it is an invaluable tool for increasing self-awareness and stimulating self-growth.
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Self-intimacy and Self-estrangement
Human beings are social creatures. Sure, we value our possessions and our achievements but of all the things we value it is our relationships we cherish most. Meaningful intimate relationships give our lives meaning and bring us happiness like nothing else can. Unfortunately, problems in our interpersonal relationships can wreak havoc on our lives and bring us untold misery and suffering.
Everyone has had some sort of interpersonal conflict over the course of their lives. Some of us, however, have more difficulty with intimate relationships than others. Maybe we have trouble choosing the right people to trust. Perhaps we keep repeating the same mistakes in our relationships time after time. How do we get past the barriers that are preventing us from having fulfilling relationships? Ironically, we have to start with ourselves.
Intimacy occurs in a relationship when two people are able to be fully present with one another. The ability to be fully present with another person, however, requires the capacity to be fully present with yourself. In other words, in order to develop intimacy with another person you have to learn to be intimate with yourself. Self-intimacy means feeling connected to all parts of yourself and the full range of your experiences. To be self-intimate is to accept all parts of yourself, even those that you dislike or that make you feel uncomfortable, ashamed, or vulnerable.
Denying certain aspects of yourself or certain segments of your experience results in self-alienation or self estrangement. Terry Cooper (http://www.ptypes.com/) describes self-estrangement as the process of "gradually becom[ing] a stranger to ourselves." The more self-alienated we become, the less attuned we are to our real wants, needs, hopes, and dreams. It becomes increasingly more difficult for a self-estranged person to find real joy in life. Over time, life starts to lose meaning. This is a natural consequence of losing touch with our innermost desires; we no longer have any idea what might bring us a sense of purpose, meaning, or fulfillment. To be self-alienated is to be perpetually dissatisfied. You reach a point where you are so far removed from your real self that you no longer know what makes you happy.
And of course, self-estrangement causes problems in interpersonal relationships. People who lack self-intimacy find it uncomfortable to establish intimacy with others. They have denied whatever aspects of themselves they don't like and have hidden them outside of their conscious awareness. It is far more difficult, however, to hide these aspects from a person who knows us intimately. So in order to keep these parts hidden we erect barriers to keep people from getting too close. Or perhaps the disowned parts of ourselves interfere with the development of intimacy. Take, for example, a woman who is excessively jealous and controlling. When her boyfriend confronts her about these behaviors she denies that they are a problem and blames her boyfriend for not making her feel more secure. Or a man might be unwilling to share his feelings with his wife. When she tries to get him to be more open he gets angry and defensive and accuses her of nagging.
If a person is unable to accept and tolerate a given aspect of himself then he will probably react poorly when someone else exhibits that same quality. For example, a person who is not comfortable expressing anger might shut down when his partner becomes angry at him.
The key to developing satisfying intimate relationships with other people is to develop a satisfying intimate relationship with yourself. As with so many of the important things in life the way to do this is through mindful acceptance. Accept whatever part of yourself emerges in a given moment; pay attention to it without trying to push it away. As these moments of mindfulness accumulate you will come to know and love yourself.
Everyone has had some sort of interpersonal conflict over the course of their lives. Some of us, however, have more difficulty with intimate relationships than others. Maybe we have trouble choosing the right people to trust. Perhaps we keep repeating the same mistakes in our relationships time after time. How do we get past the barriers that are preventing us from having fulfilling relationships? Ironically, we have to start with ourselves.
Intimacy occurs in a relationship when two people are able to be fully present with one another. The ability to be fully present with another person, however, requires the capacity to be fully present with yourself. In other words, in order to develop intimacy with another person you have to learn to be intimate with yourself. Self-intimacy means feeling connected to all parts of yourself and the full range of your experiences. To be self-intimate is to accept all parts of yourself, even those that you dislike or that make you feel uncomfortable, ashamed, or vulnerable.
Denying certain aspects of yourself or certain segments of your experience results in self-alienation or self estrangement. Terry Cooper (http://www.ptypes.com/) describes self-estrangement as the process of "gradually becom[ing] a stranger to ourselves." The more self-alienated we become, the less attuned we are to our real wants, needs, hopes, and dreams. It becomes increasingly more difficult for a self-estranged person to find real joy in life. Over time, life starts to lose meaning. This is a natural consequence of losing touch with our innermost desires; we no longer have any idea what might bring us a sense of purpose, meaning, or fulfillment. To be self-alienated is to be perpetually dissatisfied. You reach a point where you are so far removed from your real self that you no longer know what makes you happy.
And of course, self-estrangement causes problems in interpersonal relationships. People who lack self-intimacy find it uncomfortable to establish intimacy with others. They have denied whatever aspects of themselves they don't like and have hidden them outside of their conscious awareness. It is far more difficult, however, to hide these aspects from a person who knows us intimately. So in order to keep these parts hidden we erect barriers to keep people from getting too close. Or perhaps the disowned parts of ourselves interfere with the development of intimacy. Take, for example, a woman who is excessively jealous and controlling. When her boyfriend confronts her about these behaviors she denies that they are a problem and blames her boyfriend for not making her feel more secure. Or a man might be unwilling to share his feelings with his wife. When she tries to get him to be more open he gets angry and defensive and accuses her of nagging.
If a person is unable to accept and tolerate a given aspect of himself then he will probably react poorly when someone else exhibits that same quality. For example, a person who is not comfortable expressing anger might shut down when his partner becomes angry at him.
The key to developing satisfying intimate relationships with other people is to develop a satisfying intimate relationship with yourself. As with so many of the important things in life the way to do this is through mindful acceptance. Accept whatever part of yourself emerges in a given moment; pay attention to it without trying to push it away. As these moments of mindfulness accumulate you will come to know and love yourself.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Boredom
It's impossible for any one person to know and understand himself completely. Certainly there are different levels of self knowledge but no one ever attains complete knowledge of his or her psyche. Whenever I start to think I know myself as well as I possibly can something happens to prove otherwise.
I might become really upset about something that doesn't seem like a big deal. I find myself asking, "Why did I get so upset about that?" I might really dislike a particular person even though she has never done anything to me. I'll wonder, "Why don't I like this person? What is it about her that rubs me the wrong way?" Maybe I'll feel sad or angry for no identifiable reason. I'll ask myself, "What's bothering me? Why am I in such a bad mood?"
It's possible that I won't be able to answer these questions, no matter how long I dig for them. Some things are so deeply hidden somewhere in our unconscious minds that we'll never unearth them. And so there is always a part of oneself that remains a mystery, both to you and to everyone else.
If a person remains a mystery to himself then he will never come close to completely knowing and understanding someone else. Yet we make the mistake all the time of assuming we know everything there is to know about those closest to us. Most of the time it is a spouse or romantic partner who we believe no longer holds any surprises for us. After years of being in a committed relationship with the same person, many of us grow bored with the monotony of daily life. We complain that there is no longer any passion in the relationship. Life with this partner has become too predictable; there is no longer any excitement. We might wistfully recall the early days in the relationship when just seeing our partner gave us butterflies. We can't pinpoint exactly what's missing in the relationship; it just seems like we know everything there is to know about our partner and we've become bored. This happens all the time; it's one of the more common reasons for relationship dissatisfaction and even divorce.
In reality, the problem isn't that we know all there is to know about our partners; the problem is that we think we know everything there is to know so we stop being curious. We assume we know the reasons for their actions (or lack thereof); we believe we know how they feel and what they think. We're wrong. In fact, a 2009 study by Tsapelas, Aron, and Orbuch (http://data.psych.udel.edu/laurenceau/PSY467Intimate%20Relationships%20Spring%202010/Readings/aron-marital-bordeom-2009.pdf) suggests that believing we know all there is to know about someone actually creates distance in a relationship. In other words, the more we think we know a person the less we probably do.
The point is, it's impossible to fully know and understand another person, anymore than we can completely know and understand ourselves. We are cheating ourselves when we make the assumption that we know everything about someone. We enrich our lives when we remain curious and continue to ask questions; the result is deeper and more fulfilling relationships.
I might become really upset about something that doesn't seem like a big deal. I find myself asking, "Why did I get so upset about that?" I might really dislike a particular person even though she has never done anything to me. I'll wonder, "Why don't I like this person? What is it about her that rubs me the wrong way?" Maybe I'll feel sad or angry for no identifiable reason. I'll ask myself, "What's bothering me? Why am I in such a bad mood?"
It's possible that I won't be able to answer these questions, no matter how long I dig for them. Some things are so deeply hidden somewhere in our unconscious minds that we'll never unearth them. And so there is always a part of oneself that remains a mystery, both to you and to everyone else.
If a person remains a mystery to himself then he will never come close to completely knowing and understanding someone else. Yet we make the mistake all the time of assuming we know everything there is to know about those closest to us. Most of the time it is a spouse or romantic partner who we believe no longer holds any surprises for us. After years of being in a committed relationship with the same person, many of us grow bored with the monotony of daily life. We complain that there is no longer any passion in the relationship. Life with this partner has become too predictable; there is no longer any excitement. We might wistfully recall the early days in the relationship when just seeing our partner gave us butterflies. We can't pinpoint exactly what's missing in the relationship; it just seems like we know everything there is to know about our partner and we've become bored. This happens all the time; it's one of the more common reasons for relationship dissatisfaction and even divorce.
In reality, the problem isn't that we know all there is to know about our partners; the problem is that we think we know everything there is to know so we stop being curious. We assume we know the reasons for their actions (or lack thereof); we believe we know how they feel and what they think. We're wrong. In fact, a 2009 study by Tsapelas, Aron, and Orbuch (http://data.psych.udel.edu/laurenceau/PSY467Intimate%20Relationships%20Spring%202010/Readings/aron-marital-bordeom-2009.pdf) suggests that believing we know all there is to know about someone actually creates distance in a relationship. In other words, the more we think we know a person the less we probably do.
The point is, it's impossible to fully know and understand another person, anymore than we can completely know and understand ourselves. We are cheating ourselves when we make the assumption that we know everything about someone. We enrich our lives when we remain curious and continue to ask questions; the result is deeper and more fulfilling relationships.
Sunday, July 17, 2011
The Right to Feel
A patient came into my office the other day upset because she'd just learned that her ex-husband's father (and her daughter's grandfather) died after a long bout with cancer. She'd been able to "keep it together" in front of her two year old daughter, she explained; after dropping her daughter off at the babysitter's she burst into tears. "He was always so nice to me," she said. "Even after the divorce he hugged me and said, 'We still love you.'"
She went to work and must have seemed distracted because her supervisor pulled her aside and asked her if everything was ok. When she told her supervisor why she was upset she told her to take the rest of the day off. She came to see me that afternoon. She felt guilty about being given the day off. "Company policy says you get time off for the death of immediate family," she explained. "He's not my family anymore. Do I even have the right to feel sad?"
What a question! Of course I told her she had the right to feel sad -- she did have the right! But she certainly didn't need my permission, or anyone else's for that matter. Why? Because no one can give another person the "right to feel," nor can they take it away.
If we as a society were to appoint certain people responsible for granting or revoking the right to feel, who would we put in charge of such a task? What knowledge, skills, or innate qualities would a person need in order to be qualified to render such judgments? And what criteria would a given individual need to meet in order to earn the right to feel? Would only certain feelings be permissible or would specific feelings be deemed appropriate for specific situations?
Even if you were able to sort all of this out it wouldn't matter. Regardless of what restrictions one might attempt to place on emotions (his own or someone else's), most people typically have little control over the feelings they experience. People are able to exercise control over how they express (or don't express) their feelings, but for most of us we feel (experience) whatever emotions arise, whether we want to or not. Think about it. Have you ever felt a certain way (maybe depressed, hurt, or angry) but didn't want to feel that way and wished you felt differently? Maybe you remember the first time someone broke your heart? You felt hurt and miserable and would have given anything to just feel better. Did you stop hurting just because you wanted to? Probably not.
And that's the thing; our feelings don't really do what we want them to. Feelings do what feelings do; it's just the way things are. So to me, it's completely unreasonable for someone to try to tell another person how he should or should not feel. Yet it happens all the time: "You have no right to be angry!" "There's no reason for you to feel sad; you have everything you could possibly want in life." Or even, "Cheer up!"
It's also unreasonable for us to tell ourselves we should or should not feel a certain way. We probably didn't ask to feel what we're feeling. Telling ourselves we're wrong for feeling that way just makes us feel guilty, on top of whatever negative thing we're already feeling. That doesn't mean that we can't recognize when our emotions have been triggered by our own insecurities or when our feelings have no basis in the reality of a particular situation. By allowing ourselves to feel whatever it is we feel it makes us better able to see where that emotion is coming from. If the emotion is somewhat misguided we are far more likely to recognize that if we acknowledge it than if we try to suppress it because we believe we "shouldn't" feel that way and feel guilty about it.
The fact is, we all have the right to feel; all we have to do is give ourselves permission to exercise it.
She went to work and must have seemed distracted because her supervisor pulled her aside and asked her if everything was ok. When she told her supervisor why she was upset she told her to take the rest of the day off. She came to see me that afternoon. She felt guilty about being given the day off. "Company policy says you get time off for the death of immediate family," she explained. "He's not my family anymore. Do I even have the right to feel sad?"
What a question! Of course I told her she had the right to feel sad -- she did have the right! But she certainly didn't need my permission, or anyone else's for that matter. Why? Because no one can give another person the "right to feel," nor can they take it away.
If we as a society were to appoint certain people responsible for granting or revoking the right to feel, who would we put in charge of such a task? What knowledge, skills, or innate qualities would a person need in order to be qualified to render such judgments? And what criteria would a given individual need to meet in order to earn the right to feel? Would only certain feelings be permissible or would specific feelings be deemed appropriate for specific situations?
Even if you were able to sort all of this out it wouldn't matter. Regardless of what restrictions one might attempt to place on emotions (his own or someone else's), most people typically have little control over the feelings they experience. People are able to exercise control over how they express (or don't express) their feelings, but for most of us we feel (experience) whatever emotions arise, whether we want to or not. Think about it. Have you ever felt a certain way (maybe depressed, hurt, or angry) but didn't want to feel that way and wished you felt differently? Maybe you remember the first time someone broke your heart? You felt hurt and miserable and would have given anything to just feel better. Did you stop hurting just because you wanted to? Probably not.
And that's the thing; our feelings don't really do what we want them to. Feelings do what feelings do; it's just the way things are. So to me, it's completely unreasonable for someone to try to tell another person how he should or should not feel. Yet it happens all the time: "You have no right to be angry!" "There's no reason for you to feel sad; you have everything you could possibly want in life." Or even, "Cheer up!"
It's also unreasonable for us to tell ourselves we should or should not feel a certain way. We probably didn't ask to feel what we're feeling. Telling ourselves we're wrong for feeling that way just makes us feel guilty, on top of whatever negative thing we're already feeling. That doesn't mean that we can't recognize when our emotions have been triggered by our own insecurities or when our feelings have no basis in the reality of a particular situation. By allowing ourselves to feel whatever it is we feel it makes us better able to see where that emotion is coming from. If the emotion is somewhat misguided we are far more likely to recognize that if we acknowledge it than if we try to suppress it because we believe we "shouldn't" feel that way and feel guilty about it.
The fact is, we all have the right to feel; all we have to do is give ourselves permission to exercise it.
Sunday, July 10, 2011
Present versus Future
I am only unhappy when I think of where I want to be instead of where I am. I am only dissatisfied when I consider my current circumstances vis-a-vis my IDEAL circumstances. My life is good and I'm grateful, especially when I consider all of the people in this country who have been hit hard by the recession or who have lost all of their worldly possessions due to fire, flooding, or tornadoes. I have so many wonderful things in my life. I have a career that I find meaningful and rewarding and that provides me with enough money to live comfortably. I have a cute little house in a quiet neighborhood. I have a kind-hearted husband who loves me. I have been blessed with the opportunity to develop a relationship with my beautiful stepdaughter. I have an absolutely extraordinary family that I love beyond words. I have a few very close friends who are loyal and trustworthy. What more could I possibly want?
When I approach life with this mindset I am completely content.
Ah, but there's always a BUT. You see, my husband - like so many others in this economy - has been struggling to find work for well over a year now. He recently started working for a friend who owns his own business. It doesn't pay very much and it doesn't offer any benefits but at least he's earning some money. He's been able to give me some money to help out, which I put directly into my savings account (I always plan for the future). One of the reasons he took the job with his friend instead of accepting another job with a temp agency that paid the same amount was because the job with his friend had flexible work hours. He'd have some down time at work to search and apply for jobs; he would then have the flexibility to leave work during the day to go to job interviews.
The problem is, the interviews never came. Periodically, I email him jobs I think would be a good fit for him; he says he applies for all of them but he either doesn't hear back or he gets rejection emails. It's really discouraging. I think of all the things we've talked about for our future - getting a bigger house, having a child, going on family vacations - and wonder if they'll ever happen. What if he doesn't find a good job any time soon? Does that mean I should forget about wanting a bigger house and a kid?
I start feeling depressed whenever I think about it. So my dilemma is this: Do I live my life completely in the present and just let the future take care of itself? If so, HOW do I do that? I've always been a forward-looking person. I find it very motivating to have things to work towards (and to look forward to). Yet, if I don't like what I see when I look towards the future, maybe it's best to stop looking there.
When I approach life with this mindset I am completely content.
Ah, but there's always a BUT. You see, my husband - like so many others in this economy - has been struggling to find work for well over a year now. He recently started working for a friend who owns his own business. It doesn't pay very much and it doesn't offer any benefits but at least he's earning some money. He's been able to give me some money to help out, which I put directly into my savings account (I always plan for the future). One of the reasons he took the job with his friend instead of accepting another job with a temp agency that paid the same amount was because the job with his friend had flexible work hours. He'd have some down time at work to search and apply for jobs; he would then have the flexibility to leave work during the day to go to job interviews.
The problem is, the interviews never came. Periodically, I email him jobs I think would be a good fit for him; he says he applies for all of them but he either doesn't hear back or he gets rejection emails. It's really discouraging. I think of all the things we've talked about for our future - getting a bigger house, having a child, going on family vacations - and wonder if they'll ever happen. What if he doesn't find a good job any time soon? Does that mean I should forget about wanting a bigger house and a kid?
I start feeling depressed whenever I think about it. So my dilemma is this: Do I live my life completely in the present and just let the future take care of itself? If so, HOW do I do that? I've always been a forward-looking person. I find it very motivating to have things to work towards (and to look forward to). Yet, if I don't like what I see when I look towards the future, maybe it's best to stop looking there.
Sunday, July 3, 2011
When You're Stuck -- Attention and Repetition
A big focus in therapy is a patient's beliefs: beliefs about self, about other people, and about the world. Everyone has beliefs; as humans, it's how we organize and make sense of the world. Individuals vary in terms of how aware they are of their beliefs. Whether aware or unaware, an individual's beliefs influence everything that person does, says, thinks, or feels.
Many of my patients have developed problematic beliefs that are contributing to feelings of depression, anxiety, panic, anger, etc. A lot of the work in therapy involves identifying those beliefs, recognizing the negative consequences of maintaining them, examining their validity, and ultimately, generating alternative, more balanced beliefs. This is definitely a process that unfolds over time. It is not always an easy process and there are a few places where people tend to get stuck.
Sometimes it's in the very beginning; the patient and I are not able to put our fingers on the belief that seems to be driving their symptoms. (This is probably the least common place people become stuck, at least in my experience). Other times, people have trouble recognizing when the belief has been activated. This makes it difficult to see the impact the belief has on the person's emotions (which is what typically builds that person's motivation to change the belief). Some people get stuck on the belief itself. They have trouble considering that the belief might not be accurate, even when there is no evidence to support its validity.
Then, there is one place that almost everyone seems to struggle (in my experience). They have identified the problematic belief and have recognized its negative impact on their thoughts and feelings. They have looked at the evidence and have determined that the belief is inaccurate. They have developed an alternative, more balanced belief. Now, they say to me, "I know in my mind that [the old belief] isn't true but I still feel like it's true."
The head and the heart are sending two different messages. What do you do?
In my view, this is actually the most difficult part of the process. For whatever reason, it seems to take the heart a lot longer to figure out what the head already knows. Really, I think that emotions tend to operate on habit; when you get used to experiencing a particular emotion your body keeps generating that emotion by sheer force of habit. The task, then, is to gradually change the body's habitual way of feeling.
This is where attention and repetition come in. Attention means noticing every time the old belief is activated and recognizing the feeling(s) associated with the belief. Repetition means that every time you see the old belief activated you say to yourself, "Oh, there's that old belief. I know it's not true." You then cognizantly replace that belief with the previously identified alternative belief (even if you have a hard time really feeling like it's true). Finally, you behave as if you fully belief this alternative belief, even if you still feel like you believe the old belief.
This requires both patience and diligence, among other things. Over time, though, if a person keeps reminding herself that her old belief isn't true and then consciously behaves in a manner consistent with her new belief, she will eventually find that her feelings start to catch on.
Many of my patients have developed problematic beliefs that are contributing to feelings of depression, anxiety, panic, anger, etc. A lot of the work in therapy involves identifying those beliefs, recognizing the negative consequences of maintaining them, examining their validity, and ultimately, generating alternative, more balanced beliefs. This is definitely a process that unfolds over time. It is not always an easy process and there are a few places where people tend to get stuck.
Sometimes it's in the very beginning; the patient and I are not able to put our fingers on the belief that seems to be driving their symptoms. (This is probably the least common place people become stuck, at least in my experience). Other times, people have trouble recognizing when the belief has been activated. This makes it difficult to see the impact the belief has on the person's emotions (which is what typically builds that person's motivation to change the belief). Some people get stuck on the belief itself. They have trouble considering that the belief might not be accurate, even when there is no evidence to support its validity.
Then, there is one place that almost everyone seems to struggle (in my experience). They have identified the problematic belief and have recognized its negative impact on their thoughts and feelings. They have looked at the evidence and have determined that the belief is inaccurate. They have developed an alternative, more balanced belief. Now, they say to me, "I know in my mind that [the old belief] isn't true but I still feel like it's true."
The head and the heart are sending two different messages. What do you do?
In my view, this is actually the most difficult part of the process. For whatever reason, it seems to take the heart a lot longer to figure out what the head already knows. Really, I think that emotions tend to operate on habit; when you get used to experiencing a particular emotion your body keeps generating that emotion by sheer force of habit. The task, then, is to gradually change the body's habitual way of feeling.
This is where attention and repetition come in. Attention means noticing every time the old belief is activated and recognizing the feeling(s) associated with the belief. Repetition means that every time you see the old belief activated you say to yourself, "Oh, there's that old belief. I know it's not true." You then cognizantly replace that belief with the previously identified alternative belief (even if you have a hard time really feeling like it's true). Finally, you behave as if you fully belief this alternative belief, even if you still feel like you believe the old belief.
This requires both patience and diligence, among other things. Over time, though, if a person keeps reminding herself that her old belief isn't true and then consciously behaves in a manner consistent with her new belief, she will eventually find that her feelings start to catch on.
Sunday, June 26, 2011
Personality and Self
Historically, the concept of personality refers to a stable set of dispositional traits and tendencies that describe who a person is and how he interacts with the world. There are several factors that appear to influence personality: genetics and epigenetics; pre-natal/in-utero environment; childhood environment; traumatic events; and psychological development, to name a few. The prevailing view is that personality develops over the course of a person's childhood; by the time a person reaches young adulthood, his or her personality is, for the most part, fully formed. After that, personality change becomes exceedingly difficult and highly unlikely.
I find it interesting that the term "personality" stems from the Latin word "persona," which means mask. This suggests that personality is little more than the various personae people adopt to fulfill certain roles.
While there is undoubtedly some substance to a person's personality, an individual is more than just his or her personality. Think about the different "personalities" we all have: the responsible me who follows rules and fulfills obligations would hardly recognize the lazy me who stays in bed half the day or the carefree me who goes out with friends and dances the night away. Plus, my "preferred way" of interacting with the world frequently changes, depending on my mood. (Sometimes I enjoy a long talk with a friend; at other times I don't feel like talking to anybody).
In her book, "Radical Acceptance," Tara Brach explains that if we sit quietly and observe our internal world we will discover that it is made up of the coming and going of various thoughts and sensations. There is no stable "self" that remains present; the internal "self" is constantly changing from moment to moment.
Almost all spiritual or religious traditions teach that a person is more than just his or her bodily incarnation and its accompanying thoughts, feelings, and sensations. Some refer to the Holy Spirit that lives within each of us. Many refer to a soul that is non-material and distinct from our physical bodies. Still others suggest that the essence of the universe is consciousness; this is also the essence of all living things within the universe. Although various traditions conceptualize it differently, they agree that there is more to a person than what we typically identify as "self."
If you really think about it, this is sort of a radical concept. For most of us, when we refer to our "selves" we mean our personalities. Who among us would disagree that an individual's personality defines who that person is? The fact is, we all need or personalities or "personae" to successfully function in our world. The practicalities of daily life demand it. To survive, we as humans must have a way of interacting with one another that makes sense to us. Personalities meet this need. My personality tells me how I feel comfortable behaving in different situations and helps me to identify effective ways of interacting with my environment in order to get my needs met.
It is important, however, for each of us to remember that we are more than just our personalities. What we call "self" is really just the ever-changing flow of experience. Take your thoughts, for example. We consider our thoughts to be one of the most intimate parts of who we are. Yet if we pause and turn our attention inward, we will notice that our thoughts aren't really "ours" at all.
In his article "No self or True Self," Jack Kornfield (tricycle.com) explains it as follows: "As we look, we find that we neither invite our thoughts nor own them. We might even wish them to stop, but our thoughts seem to think themselves, arising and passing according to their nature."
So what does this mean for us? It means that victims of rape or child abuse can stop viewing themselves as "damaged." What happened to their bodies did not -- COULD NOT -- touch or taint the essence of who they are. It means that people who are depressed can stop telling themselves that they aren't good enough. We are all part of the same flow of experience, all created of the same essence -- nothing we do or fail to do can change that. It means that worriers can stop believing their thoughts. Thoughts are just thoughts. They don't define who we are and are often not even an accurate reflection of reality. Worriers don't have to identify with their thoughts, thereby enabling them to arouse anxiety. They can just allow them to arise and then pass without clinging to them.
I find it interesting that the term "personality" stems from the Latin word "persona," which means mask. This suggests that personality is little more than the various personae people adopt to fulfill certain roles.
While there is undoubtedly some substance to a person's personality, an individual is more than just his or her personality. Think about the different "personalities" we all have: the responsible me who follows rules and fulfills obligations would hardly recognize the lazy me who stays in bed half the day or the carefree me who goes out with friends and dances the night away. Plus, my "preferred way" of interacting with the world frequently changes, depending on my mood. (Sometimes I enjoy a long talk with a friend; at other times I don't feel like talking to anybody).
In her book, "Radical Acceptance," Tara Brach explains that if we sit quietly and observe our internal world we will discover that it is made up of the coming and going of various thoughts and sensations. There is no stable "self" that remains present; the internal "self" is constantly changing from moment to moment.
Almost all spiritual or religious traditions teach that a person is more than just his or her bodily incarnation and its accompanying thoughts, feelings, and sensations. Some refer to the Holy Spirit that lives within each of us. Many refer to a soul that is non-material and distinct from our physical bodies. Still others suggest that the essence of the universe is consciousness; this is also the essence of all living things within the universe. Although various traditions conceptualize it differently, they agree that there is more to a person than what we typically identify as "self."
If you really think about it, this is sort of a radical concept. For most of us, when we refer to our "selves" we mean our personalities. Who among us would disagree that an individual's personality defines who that person is? The fact is, we all need or personalities or "personae" to successfully function in our world. The practicalities of daily life demand it. To survive, we as humans must have a way of interacting with one another that makes sense to us. Personalities meet this need. My personality tells me how I feel comfortable behaving in different situations and helps me to identify effective ways of interacting with my environment in order to get my needs met.
It is important, however, for each of us to remember that we are more than just our personalities. What we call "self" is really just the ever-changing flow of experience. Take your thoughts, for example. We consider our thoughts to be one of the most intimate parts of who we are. Yet if we pause and turn our attention inward, we will notice that our thoughts aren't really "ours" at all.
In his article "No self or True Self," Jack Kornfield (tricycle.com) explains it as follows: "As we look, we find that we neither invite our thoughts nor own them. We might even wish them to stop, but our thoughts seem to think themselves, arising and passing according to their nature."
So what does this mean for us? It means that victims of rape or child abuse can stop viewing themselves as "damaged." What happened to their bodies did not -- COULD NOT -- touch or taint the essence of who they are. It means that people who are depressed can stop telling themselves that they aren't good enough. We are all part of the same flow of experience, all created of the same essence -- nothing we do or fail to do can change that. It means that worriers can stop believing their thoughts. Thoughts are just thoughts. They don't define who we are and are often not even an accurate reflection of reality. Worriers don't have to identify with their thoughts, thereby enabling them to arouse anxiety. They can just allow them to arise and then pass without clinging to them.
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