How to Be Human

by Ruby Wax

  If your thoughts start cycling too much, bring your focus back to the physical sensations in the body to ground yourself for a few moments before you go back to the investigation.

  When you ask the questions during mindfulness, you’re coming from a deeper place; you’ve grounded yourself with body and breath, and you’re now gently exploring, within a meditative state. Let insights arise as you compassionately investigate the craving.

  Exercise 2: Your Higher Power

  Particularly in AA (or any other A’s), people talk about their ‘higher power’. For some people, this is something religious; for others, it’s an energy; and some people don’t know what it means but would like to feel it.

  Sit quietly, in a good posture, and focus on your body and breath for a few moments, to ground yourself in the present moment. Now visualize your higher power. Imagine this is above your head, or at a slight distance in the space in front of you. Bring up an image of whatever represents this source of help and support for you. It may be Christ, Buddha, or another religious figure, even the image of a ball of bright light filled with love and compassion.

  Mentally reach out to the higher power, let yourself open up, surrender and ask for help. In response, imagine that the higher power emanates rays of light or a healing nectar which fills you up completely, soothing the addiction and bringing relief and inner strength. At the end of the session, you and the higher power become inseparable; the higher power melts into light, which melts into you.

  RUBY’S EXERCISES

  Exercise 1: Noticing Novelty: Stop. Pause. Notice

  A large part of addiction is about seeking novelty. This is why the kick, or buzz, always has to be more intense than the last time.

  Pick up a drink, and try to notice five things around you you’ve never noticed before. It may be the colour of the liquid, the feeling of the seat you’re sitting on, the type of glass you’re holding, the music playing. This exercise will train you to see things as if for the first time, rekindling your sense of curiosity, and stop you falling into a state of agitation or boredom that ignites the cravings.

  If your drug is the internet, try to pause and notice the food stains on the screen (mine is covered in them) or the details of the screensaver to help you come off autopilot. This technique goes for any and all addictions: Stop. Pause. Notice.

  Exercise 2: Dealing with Digital Addiction

  You can use technology mindfully, so that it works for you. Put your mobile in your hands or just in front of you. Notice when you want to reach out and have the urge to use the phone and try to sense where the feeling of the urge is in your body. Is it in your chest, your arms, your jaw? (That’s where mine is.) Does the area of craving feel constricted, squeezed, burning, achy? (Mine is achy.) When you notice the yearning for your phone, don’t beat yourself up; at least you noticed. The more you notice, the more successfully you’ll be able to just make the calls you need and just send enough emails to keep on top of things without toppling into an overdose. The more you practise, the easier it will be to pull back from needing a phone fix or a hit of email.

  My Story

  Some of my hot spots when I get into my craving mode are my jaw, my shoulders and my chest. When I craved cigarettes, I’d always notice my jaw go rigid, like I was the Alien, about to tear someone’s guts out. When I stopped I started chewing nicotine gum – for twelve years. I totted it up and realized I’d spent about £30,000 on chewing. That’s what finally stopped me – the bank was empty because of chewing. I was so ashamed.

  Exercise 3: Touch-typing

  This exercise trains you to notice when you’re no longer producing anything useful or making sense – it signals it’s time to take a break; and move away from your work for a limited time. Failing that, hire a great editor to fix your mistakes.

  While you’re typing at your computer (one of my addictions, and which, coincidentally, I’m doing right now), notice the urge in your body to push you to go faster or work longer when your brain is fried, as mine is now. Rest. When you feel the urge is no longer there, return to your work with a clearer, less driven mind.

  My Story

  So now as I type, I’m aware that I’ve lost the plot and my fingers are on autopilot. I can’t stop because of the adrenaline and dopamine rush I’m getting. A minute ago I got a text from a friend asking if I want to take a walk. I wanted to but it’s so hard to pull my fingers off the keys and my focus from the screen. I’m going to try to stop right now. 1–2–3 stop. I’ve stopped.

  It’s a few hours later …

  Okay, I just came back from the walk. What’s always amazing is that, as glued as I get to typing, as soon as I change the landscape (even getting up and facing another direction) the compulsion is completely gone until I sit down again, which I just did and now I’m typing again – but not so insanely.

  Exercise 4: Shopping-mall Addiction

  I made this next one up because of terrible experiences I’ve had in shopping malls. I may go in a mall for one small item but then get caught in an orgy of ‘purchasitis’. I sometimes don’t even like what I’m buying but the hunger won’t stop until I have to be yanked out at closing time, dragging bags filled with things I will never wear. So for people like me here’s my suggested exercise, it may work:

  Go to the mall, sit by one of the many burbling fountains and notice how many times you’re overwhelmed by the urge to get up and shop. Notice how your head is pulled to various displays and the hunger to buy. See where that itch is in your body and locate the exact area that makes you feel you’ll die if you don’t buy.

  Now let that go and when the urge comes again, send your focus to the sound of the fountain. Do this over and over again until you can bear it no more and then catapult yourself into Zara.

  Exercise 5: Breaking Food Addiction

  This exercise helps you to resist instant gratification and slows down your eating. Sit down with a large plate of food in front of you. Take a few breaths in through your nose, smelling the food. Now be aware of picking up the fork, feeling its weight and the sense of spearing the food. Feel the movement of lifting it to your mouth and your lips pulling the food off the fork. Now notice the details of what’s in your mouth and the thoughts and feelings that come up with it. When your mouth is full, focus in on the texture, taste, chewability and maybe your urge for more will vanish.

  Notice if that urge increases as soon as you’ve swallowed to quickly cram in another mouthful even before the one in your mouth has gone down. At this point try to put down the fork and do some mindfulness for a few minutes, following your breath. Maybe the next time you eat, you can hold off ramming another forkful in or at least savour the taste of each mouthful, which makes you eat more slowly.

  .

  Mindfulness Exercises for the Future

  THUBTEN’S EXERCISES

  The future is very much about technology and it, too, can be used for mindfulness training. People are often addicted to their phones, so why not get the phone to do something truly useful? It’s all about using technology skilfully. There are mindfulness apps out there, such as the brilliant Headspace, and I’m building one called Samten. Also, Nick Begley, who was the former head of research at Headspace, runs ‘Psychological Technologies’. He has created two apps: me@mybest and Rebalance with Mindfulness. We need a teacher to help us learn, so why not let technology be the teacher who starts you off? It’s like using water wings to learn how to swim, or stabilizers on a bicycle: it trains us, but eventually we need to let go of these things and go solo.

  Exercise 1: Not Getting Lost

  You can do this while watching TV or the computer screen. The exercise is to maintain a sense of the present moment, to feel that you’re not getting too lost, or sucked into what you’re watching. You’re standing back a little, as an observer, but you’re not getting distracted from what’s happening on the screen. So, you’re watching, but you’re also aware it’s an illusion.

  The easiest way to do
this is to bring your attention to your body from time to time while you’re watching TV or using the computer. You won’t miss anything that’s on the screen, it won’t spoil your enjoyment; in fact, it will help you stay relaxed, focused and give you a sense of freedom while watching.

  It’s brilliant training for learning to stand back and watch your thoughts and emotions without getting lost in them, because watching TV is like watching the mind.

  Exercise 2: Social Media

  Try to use Facebook or any other form of social media as a practice of generosity rather than a search for validation. Often, we post our experiences on social media to see if other people like them before we even allow ourselves to like those things. We can end up becoming addicted to needing others to validate our experiences. We lose the ability to trust who we are.

  The exercise will help you to use social media consciously as a practice of giving – sharing rather than needing. Check your motivation before you post something online. Become aware: are you caught up in craving? Are you doing it to fuel a need for validation? Of course, it’s okay to need something, but be aware of it and then the habit changes.

  This is all about using technology in a conscious way, so that you’re running the technology, not the other way around.

  Exercise 3: Future Thinking

  Often, we live in the future, constantly planning or worrying about ‘the next thing’. But the next thing never truly arrives, because our mind has got into the habit of jumping ahead and so is already busy with the thing that comes after the next thing. We never get any rest. We never arrive.

  Begin by practising mindful breathing. Notice when your thoughts are racing into the future. Note this with a mental label, saying to yourself, ‘Future thinking’. Do the same with ‘Past thinking’. Do you start to notice that pretty much all our thinking is about the past or the future? When are we ever truly in the present moment? Try not to berate yourself over this, just notice this pattern with curiosity and the habit can begin to change.

  RUBY’S EXERCISES

  Many of us already have technical add-ons and are still able to practise mindfulness. I have caps on some of my teeth and screws in my toes. This doesn’t stop me from being able to send my attention to my foot, even though most of it is held together with screws and metal plates from my bunion operation. I might not feel the real toe made of my flesh but I still can send my awareness to the area, thereby buffing up my focus muscles in my brain, which has no screws and some loose screws, which is the point of the exercise. Let that be an inspiration: no matter what is artificial on or in your body, you can still do a body scan.

  Exercise 1: Body Scan in the Future

  Even if, in the far future, you’re just a brain floating in a jar, send your focus to where you imagine your toes were.

  No feeling?

  Then try your knees?

  Nothing? A nose?

  If you can’t do that, see if you can focus on the jar that you’re bobbing in.

  No? Okay, can you feel the formaldehyde surrounding you? Is it warm? Tingly? Wet? Anything?

  I’m not hearing anything. Okay, can you just sense if you’re enjoying yourself or not in there?

  Well, don’t get depressed, even if you can’t hear me, you’re still you and that’s all that counts.

  Exercise 2: Teaching Your Child Compassion in the Future

  When your kid is wearing his Oculus Rift glasses, and he’s interacting with some virtual-reality creature, ask him to try to feel what it would be like to be in their shoes, even if they’re shaped like a lobster. (Virtual-reality characters tend not to resemble people.) If your kid senses the lobster is suffering and feels they’d like to do something to make the lobster feel less alone, maybe sit with him like a close friend, then he is learning the golden rules of compassion. Even a lobster needs love and you should be proud.

  I can’t think of any other mindfulness exercises for the future because it’s not here and I’m too present so forgive me.

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  12

  Forgiveness

  I planned to call the last chapter in this book ‘Forgiveness’ because to forgive is the most difficult of all human endeavours. One expert on compassion says, ‘Forgiveness is the solvent that dissolves the glue that holds our self-righteousness tightly. It softens the feeling of “I am right and you are wrong.” When I am able to forgive, I recognize the humanity in others.’

  This forgiveness thing is a tough one because it goes against our primitive nature. If we feel that we’ve been wronged or something is unfair, it’s embedded in every cell of our body to seek revenge. In every film, book or play you’ll ever see with a bad guy in it, people will want him hurt, and hurt bad. Phrases like, ‘Hang ’em high’ and ‘I’ll be back’ ring in our ears far longer than ‘Have a nice day.’ I was getting nowhere trying to write this chapter because ‘forgiveness’ is not really in my CV. Coincidentally (which is how my life runs), at around the same time I got a phone call from the makers of Who Do You Think You Are? During the making of the show, I learned what forgiveness was.

  Who Do You Think You Are?

  After my mother died, I found an old leather suitcase in the attic that she must have brought to America with her when she escaped from Vienna. It was full of hundreds of letters and photos; I had no idea who anyone in them was. My mother never mentioned any relatives or the past, so I assumed I’d just dropped from another planet. I knew we had distant relatives somewhere, because they were the ones who got my mother out of Austria, but there was never any mention of direct ones. I gave the TV researchers the suitcase and, eight months later, they said they had traced my past and I was booked.

  At the initial meeting with the team of Who Do You Think You Are? I was asked what I wanted to find out? Well, for a start, I wanted to know why my parents were the way they were. Was it because of the war, or would they both have had mental problems anyway? I also wanted to know why I’ve always felt so haunted; even though my parents never said a word about what happened, I used to wake up most mornings with a sense that World War Three was about to break out. Our doorbell sounded like an air-raid siren and I’d come down with my hands up in surrender mode every time it rang. As a kid, I built up rations to hide in my home-made air-raid shelter in our basement. I collected cherries from trees, and canned food, to fill my bunker. I thought the Russians were coming over the horizon to kill us all. In reality, we lived on Lake Michigan and Wisconsin was on the other side. I used binoculars every day to spot battleships.

  With this kind of inbuilt paranoia, I’d want to know if it was my imagination or were my parents as weird as I thought. They told me I was a fantasist and I was the one that was mad; their job was to straighten me out. I wrote about them in my first book How Do You Want Me, which Carrie Fisher helped edit. She said it was almost as dark as her background and, in the darkness stakes, that’s as complimentary as you can get. On the other hand, they did boost my career with the great material I got from their fantastically surreal lines, which I didn’t even have to edit, I wrote down exactly what came out of their mouths and used it for many of my shows. Our dog once ate a small sock of mine; my mother waited until it came out his other end, washed it and put it back in my drawer. When I asked why, she belted, ‘People are starving in Bavaria.’ My father, equally strange, wrote his will which I found when he was very old. It said I’d only get 35 per cent of what he was leaving when I turned forty-five because he thought I’d be insane by fifty or a heroin addict. By the time I was seventy-five I’d finally get the rest of the cash. He used to say, ‘Who’s going to marry you? Your behind is as big as a house?’ I think he was subtly informing me he didn’t hold out much hope for me. His pet name for me was ‘sad sack’. He once said, ‘Of all the millions of people, why would they choose Ruby Wax?’ This was his response when I told him I had got a job in a mini-series for NBC in America. He later told me, ‘I called them and they said they never heard of you.’ He had called the reception d
esk at NBC.

  It felt like they were bringing the Second World War into our kitchen. Every day the battle lines were drawn in the breakfast nook and we’d lob lethal verbal grenades at each other. With my background, I could only have ended up as a criminal or a comedian. But no one has cracked the whip to succeed as hard as me on me; I probably did it to prove to my father, even after his death, that I wasn’t the failure he had predicted I was going to be.

  In a sense, my parents were my inspiration and my hyperdrive to make good. So I think you can see why I was curious to find out how they ended up the way they did and who they really were.

  Day 1: 28 June

  I flew with the crew to Vienna; both my parents had lived there. We got to the hotel, which had a gulag decor and a prison warden at the desk who hated me because I asked for a room that didn’t have the sound of a motorway running through it. The bed was a hard slab of wood with a thin-tissue duvet. I spent my first night googling other hotels and moved out in the morning. I told the crew that, because this journey might be harrowing, I needed room service and a pillow.

  Day 2: 29 June

  Today, the director handed me photos of my mother, who looked like a movie star, doing movie-star poses. Next to her Greta Garbo looked like an old Chihuahua. In many photos, she was with different men, who I assumed were boyfriends: skiing with them in the Alps, lying on a beach with them in what looked like the Riviera, always looking chic and always unbelievably beautiful.