by Russ Harris
So, please don’t wait another moment. I encourage you to build self-compassion at every opportunity; it is the key to true inner strength. Throughout your day, practise tiny acts of self-kindness. Each and every one of them makes a difference.
PART 3
DROP THE ANCHOR
Chapter 12
ANCHORS AWAY
Clearly, there is no escaping the fact that the bigger the reality gap, the greater our emotional pain. And there are two emotions in particular that will almost always show up in these difficult times: fear and anger. This is hardly surprising. When any fish, reptile, bird or mammal experiences a significant threat, its ‘fight-or-flight’ response is triggered: the organism gets ready to either run away from the threat, or to stay and fight it off. In humans, the ‘fight’ response instantly turns into anger (or its close relatives: frustration, irritation, resentment and rage). Likewise, the ‘flight’ response instantly turns into fear (or its close relatives: anxiety, ‘nerves’, doubt, insecurity and panic). And very commonly, we experience both the ‘fight’ and ‘flight’ emotions at the same time.
On top of anger and fear, there may be all sorts of other painful emotions. For example, if the gap involves a significant loss of some sort, sadness and sorrow will arise. And if we have somehow contributed to this gap (or at least, if we believe we have) then guilt is also highly likely to show up.
These painful feelings are often like a tidal wave: they rise up and bowl us over and carry us away, often before we are even aware of it. And, you may be surprised to hear this, but there’s a time and a place to allow this to happen: to let ourselves be engulfed by the waves. Why? Because no matter how big they are, those waves can’t drown us (even though the mind will claim that they will). You see, when we access a mental state of expansion — when we ‘step back’ and look at those waves with openness and curiosity — we become like the sky: vast, open and spacious. And no matter how turbulent our emotions are, we can make room for them and let them come and go, just as waves rise up from the ocean and then fall back in.
When we’re in great pain, it’s helpful to keep ourselves anchored, but obviously there will be times when we’ll fail to do this. Still, as soon as we realise we’ve been swept away, we can, instantaneously, drop the anchor. And over time, it will get easier. The waves will gradually start to reduce in size. They may still be large, but they’re no longer tidal waves. And sometimes they’ll knock us over, but sometimes they won’t. And the better and faster we get at dropping the anchor, the less impact those waves will have when they hit us.
How then do we go about dropping the anchor? Well, as it happens, you already know: it’s just an ultra-brief version of ‘Be Like A Tree’, which we aim to do in the space of five to ten seconds. How about we run through it right now?
Drop The Anchor
Take five to ten seconds to do the following:
Push your feet hard on to the floor and straighten your spine.
As you do this, take a slow deep breath.
Look around and notice five things you can see.
Listen carefully and notice five things you can hear.
Notice where you are and what you are doing.
***
This very brief exercise can be done at any time and in any place, and it instantly brings us back into the present so we can engage in life and focus on the task at hand. And if we maintain an expansive awareness of our surroundings, our actions and our feelings, this will usually keep us anchored until the wave subsides.
As with any mindfulness exercise, there are all sorts of ways that you can modify it. For instance, you could stand up and give your body a stretch, and hold that stretch, and feel your muscles lengthen. Or you could push your palms hard against each other and feel the muscles contract in your neck, arms and shoulders. Or you could press your hands down hard on the arms of your chair. Or firmly massage the back of your neck and scalp.
Then, using these physical sensations as your anchor, open your ears and reach out to the world. Notice what you can see, hear, touch, taste and smell; notice where you are and what you are doing. And you can do all this as quickly or as slowly as you like.
In practice, ‘dropping anchor’ and ‘holding yourself kindly’ happen almost simultaneously. Sometimes we may drop anchor first and then rapidly follow up with a bit of self-compassion, and sometimes it may be the other way around.
Remember Ali, the Iraqi refugee who had been tortured? I asked him to practise dropping anchor at least twenty to thirty times a day. That may seem like a lot, but he was suffering from PTSD (Post-traumatic stress disorder) and I knew it would take him a long time to recover. I knew those flashbacks would continue to hijack him, to pounce on him unexpectedly and carry him off to the past to relive his nightmares. So I wanted him to become an expert at returning to the present. And I strongly encourage you to do the same.
Of course, it’s not just painful emotions that sweep us away; we also get easily carried off by our thoughts, especially by that old ‘not good enough’ story, which rarely goes for long without dropping in on us. The NGE story is very crafty. It continually changes its appearance with different disguises, which makes it all the harder for us to spot it, and allows it to easily catch us unawares. So to get better at spotting these different disguises, let’s look at this story’s role in some common reality gaps.
Envy and Jealousy
Sam, a wealthy entrepreneur, was frequently affected by envy. Even though he was a multimillionaire, he did not see himself as wealthy. Why? Because he compared himself to all the entrepreneurs he knew who were billionaires. And whenever he heard of their successes, he was almost sick; his stomach would churn, his jaw would clamp tight and his heart would pound away like a wild beast. Then bitter and resentful, he’d wonder why they had the wealth and not him.
We all at times get caught up in envy or jealousy. These unpleasant emotions occur when we see the good fortune of others, but rather than rejoice in it, we resent it; we want what they have for ourselves. Our minds are so quick to compare and judge, it happens before we realise it. We see (or hear about, or fantasise about) that other person’s career, partner, car, house, income, looks, intelligence or personality — and our mind compares it with our own and judges ours as not good enough. We then feel a sense of deprivation, unfairness or missing out.
In other words, we get hooked by NGE. Our minds tell us: ‘What I already have is not good enough. I need more, or better quality, or both. I need to have what they have!’ In Sam’s case, his mind said his income was ‘not large enough’, his business was ‘not successful enough’, and he had ‘not achieved enough’. What does your mind say to you to stir up envy? Does it focus on certain aspects of your life? Are there certain key topics where it knows it can easily grab you?
Personally, my mind likes to taunt me about my book sales. I remember a particular incident a couple of years back. I was chatting to Steven Hayes about his self-help book Get Out of Your Mind and Into Your Life, and when he told me how many copies he had sold, I was absolutely flooded with envy. His sales figures were way more than mine. I tried hard to smile as I congratulated him, but I suspect I looked pale and stricken, and inside I felt as if I’d been kicked in the guts.
Obviously my reaction was not rational. If you read the acknowledgements page in any of my self-help books, you’ll always find Steve’s name near the top; I am incredibly grateful to this man and the rational reaction would have been to rejoice in his success. Indeed, once I had calmed down and applied the advice in this book, I was able to appreciate his good fortune. However, my initial reaction was envy and it came on so fast and so strong, it really shocked me. After all, my own book, The Happiness Trap, was also doing very well, and prior to this encounter with Steve, I had been more than satisfied with its sales. It just goes to show the power of the mind; how in one split second it can strip away any sense of fulfilment and replace it with major dissatisfaction.
Now let’
s not forget there’s also the possessive form of jealousy: the jealous husband or wife who gets anxious, angry or paranoid when their partner spends time (or wishes to do so) with others. In this case, the jealous partner usually has two versions of NGE. First, there’s often a deep-seated ‘I’m not good enough, and if my partner spends time with others, she will find out that they’re better than me.’ This is commonly linked to a second NGE: ‘My partner is not loyal/trustworthy/faithful/honest enough, so eventually she will leave or deceive me.’
At the core of jealousy and envy, we tend to find fear. It may take many different forms: fear of material loss or poverty; fear of underachieving, or of being found wanting, or of being rejected for not measuring up; fear of missing out or ‘settling for less’. And as you can see, all these different fears are thematically linked to the idea of not good enough. So when we’re struggling with envy or jealousy or possessiveness, the first step is to identify the NGE story. Ask yourself: ‘What is my mind telling me is not good enough? Is it my body, my mind, my life, my achievements, my job, my income, my kids or my partner?’
The next steps are to name it, let go and drop anchor; then engage in whatever you are doing and act with purpose. However, keep in mind that while defusion from NGE is certainly helpful, it’s only one part of the picture. We also need to deal with the physical reaction: to make room for those unpleasant feelings and practise self-compassion.
Self-compassion is especially important. Envy and jealousy, along with the fears at their core, and the resentments layered on top of them, are painful and difficult experiences. These emotions hurt, and when we get caught up in them, we suffer. So let’s be kind and caring to ourselves.
And be wary: our minds may use our own reactions as ammunition against us; they may judge us harshly for having such reactions in the first place. For example, when I reflected on my envy towards Steven Hayes, I did not like what it revealed: it highlighted my insecurities and my sense of inadequacy. Was my mind compassionate and understanding about this? Did it say to me, ‘Russ, you’re a human being and such emotional reactions are perfectly normal and common -place, so go easy on yourself’? No, it did not — at least, not initially. Instead, my mind pulled out a big stick, gave me a massive hiding, and called me all sorts of rude names. We need to be on the lookout for such reactions: self-judgement, self-recrimination, self-punishment and self-blame. They do nothing, absolutely nothing, to help us. They are all simply versions of ‘I’m not good enough’, so we need to notice them, name them and let go, and practise being kind to ourselves instead.
Sam, the entrepreneur, was initially very sceptical about this approach, but I encouraged him to try it and, gradually, his envy and harsh self-judgement began to diminish. He had always achieved results through being hard on himself, so being self-compassionate did not come naturally. However, over time, he built a beautiful relationship with himself, and as he did so, comparing himself to his peers became much less important.
Loneliness
Loneliness is another very common reality gap. However, it’s important to recognise that loneliness is not the same as ‘being alone’. You have probably had the experience (at least occasionally) of being alone and actually enjoying your solitude. Loneliness is, at its core, a state of disconnection: a turning away from reality, rather than engaging with it. And this dis -connection can happen even while we’re in the midst of social interaction; thus the common saying: ‘I was so lonely in that relationship.’ It can also exhibit itself as the unpleasant sense of disconnection we all experience when someone is with us physically, but they’re ‘not really present’.
In this state of disconnection, unpleasant thoughts and feelings arise and we tend to call this experience ‘loneliness’. The thoughts convey the idea that our reality here and now is not good enough: ‘I wish someone else was here’, or ‘I wish I was somewhere else’. As for the feelings, they are usually a mixture of sadness, longing and anxiety, sometimes mixed with frustration or resentment.
When we look at loneliness this way, we can see that defusing from our thoughts and making room for our feelings is part of the answer, but not the whole of it. Our loneliness is both a signal that we’re disconnected and a reminder that we value connection. After all, if we didn’t value connection, we wouldn’t feel lonely, right? So the other part of the answer is to actively cultivate connection.
Now we could cultivate connection with other people, but that might not be possible, or we may choose not to. So if we can’t or won’t cultivate that connection with others, we can cultivate it with ourselves, through self-compassion. We can also create that connection with nature, our work, our hobbies, our sport, our religion, our art, or anything else that meets these two conditions:
a) it is available to us in this moment, and
b) it matters to us in some way.
To connect with these things, we take action: we start doing some form of activity that plays a role in this domain of our life. We give that activity our full attention and step out of our thoughts and engage 100 per cent in what we are doing.
Often as we do this, we become so absorbed in the activity that those lonely thoughts and feelings disappear. However, when this happens, it’s a bonus; not the main aim. Our aim is to lead a life based on presence and purpose, not to try to get rid of unpleasant feelings. So if those thoughts and feelings don’t disappear, it’s really not a problem; provided we respond with expansion and defusion, they can’t stop us from having a life-enhancing connection with something important.
Diagnostic Labels
Many therapists, psychologists and psychiatrists place great importance on giving their clients a diagnosis: labelling them with a mental disorder, such as major depressive disorder, generalised anxiety disorder, panic disorder, obsessive-compulsive disorder, post-traumatic stress disorder, or literally hundreds of others. And while this diagnosis is undoubtedly of help in some contexts, it can also be very harmful in others. If this diagnosis helps us to make positive life changes, then in that context we could say that it’s helpful.
But if we fuse with this diagnostic label — if we believe that this label is who we are, that it sums us up and that it captures our essence, then we’re in trouble. And, sadly, this is quite a common occurrence. I’ve met many clients who got stuck in life when they fused with their own labels: ‘I am a depressive’, ‘I am obsessive-compulsive’, or ‘I am an addict’. Notice the effect of describing yourself in this way: it makes it sound like you are the label; as if this diagnosis is you.
And to make matters worse, these labels commonly attach to many other versions of not good enough: ‘I’m damaged goods’, ‘I don’t think rationally’, ‘There is something wrong with me’, ‘I can’t cope as well as other people’, ‘I’m weak’, ‘I’m different’, or ‘I’m screwed up’.
Now at this point a reminder: in ACT we generally don’t look at these stories in terms of true or false; what we’re interested in is whether or not they are helpful. In other words, if I hold on tightly to this story, will it help me to be the person I want to be, or do the things that make my life richer and fuller? Sadly, at least in my experience, many people who fuse with these diagnostic labels find it doesn’t help them live richer lives. It holds them back because they fuse with a belief such as: ‘I can’t do [insert important goal] because I am [insert diagnostic label].’ And when they hold on tightly to this belief and allow it to push them around and dictate what they do, then it usually becomes a self-fulfilling prophecy.
So the message is, hold these labels lightly. The label of ingredients on a jam jar is not the same thing as the jam itself. And the description of a resort in a travel brochure is not the same thing as the resort itself. Likewise, any diagnostic label is simply a description of thoughts, feelings and behaviours: it is not the same thing as the person who has these thoughts, feelings and behaviours.
And that message applies equally to labels on others. For when other people get labelled
in this manner, we can easily start to see them through the lens of their diagnosis. And that is not healthy for a relationship: it’s looking at the other person as being not good enough. My wife and I both fell into this trap when our son was first diagnosed with autism. We both instantly fused with that label and the effect on us was horrendous. We felt as if our son had been taken from us; as if our little boy had disappeared and in his place was this huge, oppressive diagnosis.
Luckily, over time, we defused from the label. We learned to hold it very lightly; to see it as merely a tool to help us access services that could make a difference. Our little boy came back again; we could appreciate him and enjoy his eccentricities. We could accept his challenges and relish our many wonderful times together, rather than seeing him as a case of Autism Spectrum Disorder.
And obviously this approach is relevant to all forms of NGE labels, not just psychiatric diagnoses. If we are fused with labels such as ‘fat’, ‘stupid’, ‘loser’, ‘worthless’, ‘ugly’, ‘lazy’, ‘incompetent’, ‘inadequate’ and so on — whether they apply to others or ourselves — let’s recognise that it’s unhelpful and unhook ourselves.
Can You Spot the NGE?
If you want more insight into the prevalence of the NGE story, you may wish to consider its role in resentment, greed, perfectionism, boredom, insecurity or shame. Explore any of these experiences and you’ll always find the same two major elements: unpleasant sensations in your body and a storyline based on NGE. And either one of these elements, or more commonly both of them together, can sweep us away in a moment. So it pays to get good at dropping anchor.
Reality gaps vary enormously in size: some are huge — leading to shock, grief, despair or rage; others are small — leading to disappointment, frustration or irritation; and others are somewhere in-between. However, no matter how great or small these gaps may be, we always have a choice in how we react with them. If a reality gap can be closed (without opening another one that’s even bigger), then it makes sense that we take action to close it. But if it can’t be closed, at least not for the time being, then instead of running or fighting, we can simply drop anchor: unhook from our unhelpful stories, make room for our painful emotions, and engage fully in doing something with purpose.
