The Reality Slap
Page 17
Fortunately, though, there is always a way to return. The moment we realise we’re in hell, we have a choice. We can apply the three P’s — presence, purpose and privilege — and instantly turn back the other way.
Chapter 22
PAIN INTO POETRY
When one of my clients, Chloe, was diagnosed with breast cancer, she joined a so-called ‘support group’. She had hoped to find a compassionate and self-aware community who could realistically acknowledge just how painful and scary and difficult cancer is, while also providing support and genuine encouragement. But what she found instead was, to use her terminology, ‘a bunch of positive-thinking fanatics’. These women did not acknowledge Chloe’s pain and fear, instead they told her to think positively — to see her cancer as a ‘gift’. They said she should consider herself lucky because this illness had given her a chance to ‘wake up’ and appreciate her life; a chance to learn and grow and love more fully.
Now personally, I’m all for learning and growing and loving more fully, and this whole book is about waking up and appreciating life. But it’s a big leap from that to seeing your cancer as a gift, or considering yourself lucky to have it. And replace the word ‘cancer’ with ‘the death of your child’ or ‘having your house burned down’ or ‘being raped’ or ‘imprisonment in a concentration camp’ or ‘losing your limbs’. How callous would it be to refer to these events as ‘gifts’ or to tell people they are ‘lucky’ when this happens? It is the very opposite of a caring and compassionate response.
All of us have plenty of opportunities to learn and grow and wake up and appreciate our lives; we don’t need to have something terrible happen to us in order to do this. And if something terrible does happen, by all means let’s learn and grow from it, but let’s not pretend that it’s wonderful or we’re lucky to have it. I’ve learned and grown a lot through having my son, and I’ve experienced a huge amount of joy and satisfaction amid all the heartache, but I don’t think of autism as a ‘gift’.
Having said that, from time to time you will meet or hear of someone who tells you that their illness or injury or near-death experience was the ‘best thing that ever happened’ to them because it transformed their life in such a positive way. I’ve met a couple of these folks, and I’ve read about quite a few others, and the genuine ones are truly inspiring; but my feeling is that these people are few and far between, and most of us will never see things the same way. So why not be honest with ourselves? When bad things happen, let’s acknowledge how painful it is, and be kind to ourselves. And then, and only then, let’s consider how we might learn or grow from the experience.
So, if you have acknowledged your pain, and responded to yourself with compassion, and done what you can to improve the situation, then it may now be time to consider several questions. Obviously you didn’t ask for your reality slap to happen — life served it up without your consent — but given that it has happened, it may well be useful to ask yourself:
• How can I learn or grow from this experience?
• What personal qualities could I develop?
• What practical skills might I learn or improve?
When reality slaps us around, it invites us to grow. And while it’s not an invitation that we wanted, if we turn it down, our life is sure to get worse. So how about we accept it and make the most of it? Let’s use it to develop defusion, connection and expansion: to get in touch with our values and act with purpose. Let’s use it as a rehearsal for the four steps: hold yourself kindly, drop the anchor, take a stand, and find the treasure.
Part of the privilege of life is that we do have the oppor -tunity to learn and grow, and we can make use of this opportunity any time we wish to, right up until we take our final breath. So let’s be curious: how can we deepen our life in response to distress? Can we perhaps develop more patience or courage? Or compassion, persistence, or forgiveness?
Have you ever heard the old saying: ‘When the student is ready, the teacher appears’? I used to cringe at this saying. I saw it as ‘New Age’ claptrap. I thought it meant that as soon as you were ready for the secret of enlightenment, some guru would magically appear out of thin air. But these days I interpret it very differently. I see it as meaning this: if we are willing to learn, we can do so from literally anything life dishes up. No matter how painful or scary it may be, we can always learn something useful from it.
Personally, in the last three years, I have come to see my son as my greatest teacher. (My mind is telling me that that sounds like an awful cliché, but it is true!) And the lessons come thick and fast on a daily basis. Naturally, I feel very sad when I think about all of my son’s challenges; about how much he has missed out on, and how hard he has to try, and how difficult life is for him in so many ways. And I also feel plenty of fear about his future. At the time of writing this book, my son is doing well at pre-school. With the help of a part-time private aide, he is making friends, contributing actively to the class, and generally fitting in well. But we all know very well how cruel kids can be. We know how merciless they can be to children who are ‘different’. And I fear that as my son gets older, he will be a target of bullying. Yes, it may never happen — and I hope it never does — but there’s a very high chance it will. And even to think about that sends a shudder down my spine.
So I have lots of fear and lots of sadness, but mixed with those emotions, I have vast amounts of love, joy and gratitude. It’s hard to describe the limitless love I have for my son and the incredible joy he gives me, and the enormous gratitude I feel for having him in my life. Now suppose you say to me, ‘Russ, I’ve got this gadget’, and you pull out a little silver box. Right on top of the box is a bright red button and you say to me, ‘Russ, this device is amazing. All you need to do is press this red button and all your fear and sadness will completely disappear. However, there’s just one side effect. When you press that button, you won’t care about your son anymore. He’ll mean nothing to you. You won’t care about how he feels, or how the other kids treat him, or whether he has friends, or what he does after he leaves school. You won’t even care whether he lives or dies.’
Do you think I would press that button?
And if our roles were reversed, would you press it?
This is what life gives us. If we’re going to care about anyone or anything at all, then sooner or later we will encounter a reality gap: a gap between what we want and what we’ve got. And when that happens, painful feelings will arise. Those things that really matter also hurt.
So can we embrace those painful feelings and see them as a valuable part of us? Can we appreciate that they tell us something important: that we are alive, we have a heart, and we truly care?
Can we see our pain as a bridge to the hearts of others? That it spans our differences and unites us in the commonality of human suffering. Only when we know what it’s like to hurt, can we relate well to others who are hurting too; only then will we understand the true meaning of empathy. So can we appreciate how pain helps us to build rich relationships: to connect with the pain of others, to actively care about them, and to willingly contribute kindness when they are suffering?
Our emotions are as much a part of us as our arms and our legs. So do we really have to avoid, escape or fight them? Or can we learn to treasure them instead? When our arms and legs get cut, broken or infected, naturally they give rise to pain. But we don’t get into a fight with our limbs because of it. We don’t wish we could go through life without them. We appreciate what they contribute to our life.
So, let’s now consider that part of us that cares. What if we could truly treasure this part and truly be grateful for all it affords us in life? Yes, if we didn’t care, we’d have no pain, but we’d also have no joy or love or laughter. We’d go through life like zombies; everything would be pointless or meaningless. There would be no disappointment or frustration, but there would also be no contentment or satisfaction. Our capacity to care enables us to live a life of purpose: to build
rich relation -ships, to motivate ourselves, to find life’s treasures and enjoy them. So can we be grateful for it, even though it brings us so much pain?
Let’s also consider our ability to feel emotions. Can we appreciate the brain’s amazing ability to take billions of electrochemical signals coming in from all over the body and decode them and interpret them in an instant, to enable us to feel whatever we feel?
Just imagine if this system didn’t work. Imagine if we felt nothing ever again. How much would we miss out on? How empty would life be?
From a mental viewpoint of self-compassion, having dropped anchor and taken a purposeful stand, can we look at these painful feelings inside our body and treat them with kindness and respect? Can we give them space, and give them peace, and give them our caring attention? Can we connect with them with curiosity and openness? Can we reflect on how they remind us of what we care about? Can we let go of judging these feelings as ‘bad’ and instead cultivate wonder that they exist at all?
I’ve saved this chapter to the end because it’s the hardest thing I am suggesting in this book. To tolerate pain is difficult; to accept it is much harder; but to appreciate it is the hardest challenge of all.
And yet, it is possible. The more we reflect on the privilege of human emotion — that we get to care and to feel in so many different ways — the more we can appreciate all our emotions. Yes, this privilege does not come without a price. With passion, comes pain. With caring, comes loss. With wonder, comes fear and dread. But look at the upside; consider what your life would be like without it.
And consider this too: what is the key to lasting fulfilment? What is the essence of human vitality? What is the core of all those things we call ‘love’? It is to care, connect and contribute — to live with presence and purpose. Surely there is no greater privilege than this? So I encourage you to make the most of this privilege: to live with presence and purpose. And also to be realistic: to acknowledge that you will often forget to do this. The beautiful thing is that whenever you remember, you have a choice. You can hold yourself kindly, drop an anchor, and take a stand. And right there, in that moment, you will find treasure: the fulfilment that is always there, even when life hurts.
Appendix 1
DEFUSION TECHNIQUES AND NEUTRALISATION
Defusion means separating from our thoughts, seeing them for what they truly are, and allowing them to be as they are. There are three main types of strategy for defusion: noticing, naming and neutralisation. Noticing and naming are described in detail in Chapter 6. Neutralising your thoughts means putting them into a new context where you can readily recognise that they are nothing more or less than words and pictures, which then effectively neutralises their power over you.
Neutralisation techniques typically involve either accentuating the visual properties of thoughts (i.e. ‘seeing’ them), highlighting the auditory properties of thoughts (i.e. ‘hearing’ them), or both. I encourage you to play around with the techniques that follow, and be curious as to what will happen. You can’t accurately predict in advance which techniques will work best for you — any given technique might give you no defusion whatsoever, or it might just give you a tiny bit of defusion, or it could give you a massive amount of defusion. (At times, it could even create more fusion; this is uncommon, but it does occasionally happen.)
Keep in mind that the purpose of defusion is not to get rid of unwanted thoughts, nor to reduce unpleasant feelings. The purpose of defusion is to enable you to engage fully in life, instead of getting lost in or pushed around by your thoughts. When we defuse from unhelpful thoughts, we often find that they quickly ‘disappear’, or our unpleasant feelings rapidly reduce — but such outcomes are ‘lucky bonuses’, not the main aim. So by all means enjoy these things when they happen, but don’t expect them; if you start using defusion to try to achieve such outcomes, you will soon be disappointed.
I invite you to try out the following techniques and be curious about what happens. If you find one or two that really help you to defuse, play around with them over the next few weeks and see what difference it makes. However, if any of these techniques make you feel like your thoughts are being trivialised or discounted or mocked, then do not use them.
First, on a piece of paper, jot down several of the thoughts that most frequently hook you and distress you. For each technique, pick one of these thoughts to work with, go step-by-step through the exercise, and be curious about and open to whatever happens.
Visual Neutralisation Techniques
Thoughts on Paper
Write two or three distressing thoughts on a large piece of paper. (If you don’t have access to paper and pens right now, you can try doing this exercise in your imagination.)
Now hold the piece of paper in front of your face and get absorbed in those distressing thoughts for a few seconds.
Next, place the paper down on your lap, look around you, and notice what you can see, hear, touch, taste and smell.
Notice the thoughts are still with you. Notice they haven’t changed at all, and you know exactly what they are, but do they somehow have less impact when you rest them on your lap instead of holding them in front of your face?
Now pick up the paper and, underneath those thoughts, draw a stick figure (or, if you have an artistic streak, some sort of cartoon character). Draw a ‘thought bubble’ around those words, as if they are coming out of the head of your stick figure (just like those thought bubbles you see in comic strips). Now look at your ‘cartoon’: does this make any difference to the way you relate to those thoughts?
Try this a few times, with different thoughts and stick figures (or cartoons). Put different faces on your stick figures — a smiley face, a sad face, or a face with big teeth or spiky hair. Draw a cat, or a dog, or a flower, with those very same thought bubbles coming out of it. What difference does this make to the impact of those thoughts? Does it help you to see them as words?
Computer Screen
You can do this exercise in your imagination or on a computer. (For most people it’s more powerful to do it on a computer.) First write (or imagine) your thought in standard black lower-case text on the computer screen, then play around with the font and the colour. Change it into several different colours, fonts and sizes, and notice what effect each change makes. (Note: Bold red capitals are likely to cause fusion for most people, whereas a lower-case pale-pink font is more likely to create defusion.)
Then change the text back to black and lower-case, and this time play around with the formatting. Space the words out, placing large gaps between them.
Run the words together with no gaps between them so they make one long word.
Run them vertically down the screen.
Then put them back together as one sentence.
How do you relate to those thoughts now? Is it easier to see that they are words? (Remember, we are not interested in whether the thoughts are true or false; we just want to see them for what they are.)
Karaoke Ball
Imagine your thought as words on a karaoke screen. Imagine a ‘bouncing ball’ jumping from word to word across the screen. Repeat this several times.
If you like, you can even imagine yourself up on stage singing along to the words on the screen.
Changing Scenarios
Imagine your thought in a variety of different settings. Take about five to ten seconds to imagine each scenario, then move on to the next one. See your thought written:
a) in playful colourful letters on the cover of a
b) children’s book
c) as stylish graphics on a restaurant menu
d) as icing on top of a birthday cake
e) in chalk on a blackboard
f) as a slogan on the t-shirt of a jogger.
Leaves on a Stream or Clouds in the Sky
Imagine leaves gently floating down a stream, or clouds gently floating through the sky. Take your thoughts, place them on those leaves or clouds, and watch them gently float on by.
/> Auditory Neutralisation Techniques
Silly Voices
Say your thought to yourself in a silly voice — either silently or out loud. (It is generally more defusing to do it out loud, but obviously you need to pick the time and place; it doesn’t go down well in a business meeting!) For example, you might choose the voice of a cartoon character, movie star, sports com -mentator, or someone with an outrageous foreign accent. Try several different voices, and notice what happens.
Slow and Fast
Say your thought to yourself — either silently or out loud — first in ultra slow motion, then at super-fast speed (so you sound like a chipmunk).
Singing
Sing your thoughts to yourself — either silently or out loud — to the tune of ‘Happy Birthday’. Then try it with a couple of different tunes.
Create Your Own Neutralisation Techniques
Now invent your own neutralisation techniques. All you need to do is put your thought in a new context where you can ‘see’ it or ‘hear’ it, or both. For example, you might visualise your thought painted on a canvas, or printed on a postcard, or emblazoned on the chest of a comic-book superhero, or carved on the shield of a medieval knight, or trailed on a banner behind an aeroplane, or tattooed on the back of a biker, or written on the side of a zebra among all its stripes. Or you could paint it, draw it, or sculpt it. Or you could imagine it dancing, or jumping, or playing football. Or you could visualise it moving down a TV screen, like the credits of a movie. Alternatively, you might prefer to imagine hearing your thought being recited by a Shakespearean actor, or broadcast from a radio, or emanating from a robot, or being sung by a rock star. You are limited only by your own creativity, so be sure to play around and have some fun.