Inquire comes from the Old French word ‘enquerre,’ meaning to seek, ask or investigate. This is precisely what must do: investigate what’s going on at intricately subtle levels of our minds and bodies. We find the answers to our problems by delving directly into their source – by observing the complex interplay of sensations, thoughts, emotions, beliefs and behaviours.
The term energy is often used to describe the psychosomatic forces that drive human behaviour. If we sidestep pseudoscientific interpretations, the idea of emotions as energies is very useful. Indeed, it plays an important role in modern psychological treatments that examine the interrelationships between mind, body and personality. It has proven to be powerful, for example, in helping patients diagnose and remove negative complexes and conditioning.
With this in mind, we explore the demonic patterns that reside deep in our psyches with curiosity, courage and compassion. The overall impetus being not to eradicate them, but to understand why they exist and what they have to teach us.
HOW TO HUNT DEMONS
ASSUME A READINESS TO LEARN
It is only when we have the courage to face things exactly as they are, without any sort of self-deception or illusion, that a light will develop out of events, by which the path to success may be recognized.
I, Ching – The Book of Changes
‘Friday December 8th, one of our big days. It did not seem exactly favourable in the morning, thick and with no visibility as usual but…we are ready to take the pole on any kind of weather on offer.’ This is what Roald Amundsen wrote in his diary the day he and his team reached a latitude of 88°23’ on the coldest continent on earth. In doing so, they surpassed the previous record set by Ernest Shackleton just two years earlier, in 1909. The ultimate success of this trip recorded the Norwegian as the first human to reach the south pole, beating Captain Scott and his British contingent by a whopping 33 days in the process.
During the 2000 mile plus round trip, Amundsen and his team carved out a new route through uncharted terrain in some of the most inhospitable conditions on the planet. Amidst incessant snowstorms and blizzards that regularly reduced visibility to almost zero, and temperatures which often dropped to – 35 degrees Celsius, they negotiated terrains more befitting of mountaineers than explorers.
The Axel Heiberg glacier (named after one of Amundsen’s chief financial backers) was one of their first major challenges. A steep 30 nautical mile glacier, it offered the only passable ascent through the Transantarctic mountains that stood in their way, leading up to a polar plateau that perched above 10,000 feet. Despite oxygen levels at these altitudes playing havoc with their breathing and energy, Amundsen and his team recorded very little drama. Each day’s work was just another day’s work. Some of it was hard, some of it less hard. Some of it was even pure pleasure (each of his team were, after all, avid skiers in a land of endless snow).
Today, when people talk about the Antarctic, they often speak more of Scott and Shackleton. Based on singular achievements however, Amundsen far excelled both explorers. So why is this the case? Why is ‘Scott of the Antarctic’ a common moniker but not ‘Amundsen of the Antarctic’?
One reason is that both Scott and the equally-exalted Shackleton were from the British Isles: the dominant force in geopolitics, and there fore communications and propaganda, at the time. Another factor is Scott perished on his return from the south pole, leaving behind an infamous diary in the process. This instantly created a heroic mystique around the
Brit that ended up overshadowing Amundsen’s achievement.
Nevertheless, the facts don’t lie: Amundsen was a far superior explorer. He was better planned, better trained and better equipped to reach, and return home safely from, the south pole. And this was largely because he patiently and persistently focused on his goal, and made sure that: a) He fully investigated, thus knew first-hand, how to achieve his objectives, and b) He would not stray from the path that his hard-earned knowledge directed him down.
This is why we can learn a lot from Roald Amundsen. Earlier in his career, the young Norseman joined a Belgian expedition setting out to explore the Antarctic shelf. But the trip was doomed to failure. Having reached the Southern Ocean, their ship, the RV Belgica, failed to gain entry into the Weddell Sea. With their main passageway blocked, the crew found themselves trapped in the pack ice near Peter I Island. They had no choice but to spend a whole winter aboard the marooned vessel without adequate clothing or food supplies.
In the days of 24-hour darkness that followed, crew morale was decimated. Scurvy was rampant. Many lost their sanity while several others died, including one sailor who walked out into the ice ‘announcing he was going back to Belgium.’ Never to be seen again.
Amundsen was different however. He used the time to inquire into and learn more about the nature of this unforgiving place. He spent the long dark days collecting data, making scientific observations, and experimenting with different gear for polar excursions.
When inquiring within, we’d do well to adopt this approach. When we start exploring the recesses of our subconscious, we too are entering a world of darkness. A realm of uncertainty. An environment we’ve likely never before explored, at least via our conscious waking selves. It’s inevitable we’ll experience a foreboding feeling of fear. A real, oftentimes visceral, sense that we are entering danger. Much like the crew of the RV Belgica, we simply won’t want to be there.
But this fear is present for a reason. It’s a front for the tangible threat of psychological pain. A form of pain which, in the minds of many, is more fearful and real than physical death. So, make no mistake: facing the demons in our psyches can, at first, be a daunting experience. Especially if we fail to embrace Amundsen’s approach – by being mentally prepared for whatever arises, committed to the process of inquiry, and resolutely focused on the simple objective of being aware of whatever is there – it has the potential to bring us to the borders of insanity.
Four years after that harrowing winter, Amundsen assumed the lead of an expedition aiming to navigate the North-West Passage connecting the North Atlantic and Pacific oceans. Global warming means this treacherous passage is now open for large ships in summer, but it was iced up pretty much all year round at the beginning of the 20th century. Amundsen not only succeeded in being the first person to break through to the other side, he also spent a significant amount of time living with Eskimos native to the northernmost regions of Canada, in particular a tribe called the Eksilics.
During his time with the Eksilics, Amundsen investigated their techniques for eking out a sustainable life in these harsh, unforgiving conditions. Techniques he would later use to survive and thrive in the Antarctic.
He learned how to drive dogs (he brought 97 to the Antarctic, eventually eating most of them), build robust igloos, and use furs to design apparel such as anoraks. He also learned a vital trick – squirting water onto the runners of sledges to build up fine layers of elastic ice – allowing his sledges to slide smoothly over very cold snow.
Amundsen was able to acquire these lifesaving insights because he had put aside everything he thought he knew and embraced what Zen Buddhists call ‘don’t know mind.’ It was an open and engaged mindset born from his belief that Western civilization didn’t have all the answers, that it was important to investigate what so-called primitive tribes could teach him.
The British, on the other hand, suffered from the illusion that civilized man had all the answers, so they learned nothing. They were arrogant. And because of this they were at odds with their environment. Above all else, this is why most of their expeditions ended up as failures. It’s why Scott took horses to the Antarctic, a place where there’s nothing for them to eat or keep them warm. It’s why his team carried way too much baggage.
And it’s why they didn’t have the knowledge nor technology required to keep themselves alive.
In contrast, Amundsen was a true empiricist. By observing the way natives lived in colder climates, he came to deeply understand both them and their environments. All of Scott’s analysis and theorizing with his colleagues back home in the British Royal Geographical Society was no match for this deep immersion in Eskimo life.
Similarly, our investigation into the mysterious terrain of our minds requires that we go and see for ourselves. To personally observe our demons in their natural habitat. Examine their behaviours. Become intimate with them. Learn more about their nature.
After all, wisdom received from others is not real wisdom – it’s information at best, deceptive hearsay at worst. Real wisdom comes from direct experience. When we see and feel first-hand what is going on inside of us, when we investigate what’s going on in our minds and bodies by shining the spotlight of our awareness on our inner world. Into the shadows. Onto the creatures that live in the dark. Only then can we know their truth.
Like Amundsen with the Eksilics, its critical to put aside any preformed concepts or ideas when seeking to learn more about this inner landscape. This is conditioning from the past that obstructs our ability to see what’s really there. A better mode of inquiry is one based on a mindset that remains open and receptive to whatever reality presents. Ready to be changed based on what we see, as opposed to seeking to change it in advance.
It’s this subtle yet life-altering difference in approach that De Mello and many other sages throughout history pointed to in their teachings.
Embracing it endows us with the delicate yet exquisite skill of inquiry that will gradually release us from our conditioning.
Practical Exercise: Shadow Work / Dream Analysis
- Carl Jung highly valued dreams as tools for accessing the subconscious and the shadow self. Try keeping a log of your dreams and look for repeating themes or symbols that your subconscious may be using to tell you something.
- As you investigate their contents, pulling the threads of various meanings, remember that the subconscious mind doesn’t speak literally – it uses archetypes, metaphors and images to communicate e.g. the appearance of a demon can signify something you are afraid of but must face up to; similarly a witch can represent an authoritative female figure in your current/earlier life.
- Consider reading Jung’s books “Dreams,” and “Memories, Dreams, Reflections,” or Joseph Campbell’s book “The Hero with a Thousand Faces” for more information on archetypes and common dream motifs.
PAIN Point
According to Jung, a personality includes the persona, what we present to the world, and the shadow self which remains hidden because we are ashamed of it. Shadow work comes from this concept; it’s a deep inquiry into your unconscious mind to uncover shameful parts of yourself that are repressed and hidden. The objective being to integrate and accept every single aspect of yourself, so you can live with more clarity, peace and authenticity.
DEVELOP A HUMBLE CURIOSITY
Nothing in life is to be feared, it is only to be understood.
Now is the time to understand more, so that we may fear less.
Marie Curie
Nobel-winning physicist Richard Feynman once said that if all scientific knowledge were stolen from the annals of history, the one idea he hoped would be preserved for future generations is that: ‘all things are made of atoms – little particles that move around in perpetual motion.’ Despite being a minuscule ball of mostly empty space, many consider the atom’s discovery to be the keystone revelation in scientific history. Interestingly, while concrete evidence for its existence came much later, its emergence in the human imagination goes way back, beyond the industrial and scientific revolutions to the time of the Greco-Roman philosophers. In their quest to grasp the nature of reality, a duo of scientist-philosophers – Leucippus and his pupil Democratis – used the Socratic method of systematically evaluating theories to develop a rational-based conceptual framework. Its crowning achievement was an idea way ahead of its time: that reality is composed of basic building blocks called atoms (which in Ancient Greek means ‘not cut’ or indivisible). Having no advanced technologies to test the hypothesis, their deduction is a fine example of human reasoning at its best.
It’s also a great example of the power and impact of curiosity. And there’s not many who’ve personified this better in recent times than the T.J. CONNOLLY polymath, safe-cracker, theoretical physicist, bongo player, and all-round practical joker, Richard Feynman.
Following the outbreak of World War II, while still an MIT undergraduate (where he was already busy publishing papers on topics such as cosmic rays and chemical bonds), Feynman found himself drafted to the deserts of New Mexico to work on the Manhattan project. Here he would play a lead role in beating the Nazis to the atomic bomb, a key development that ultimately helped the allies win the war. It was also at Los Alamos where the top military brass, having witnessed his regular challenges to authority and refusal to accept easy answers, came to see him as the polar opposite of a ‘Yes Man.’ And they loved him for it. Assigned leader of the computational department, he became their go-to guy for vetting ambitious theories and plans.
After the war, Feynman turned his curiosity to a dizzying array of scientific disciplines. Most notably perhaps the ‘principle of least action’ for which he developed a new form of mathematics to calculate his theories.
The resulting advancements in quantum field theory netted him the Nobel prize for physics in 1965. Free-spirited and anti-authoritarian by nature, Feynman impulsively pushed back against ‘received wisdom.’ Everything had to be personally tested before being accepted. Understood directly in order to be believed.
And he often took this approach to unusual lengths. While at MIT, for example, he could sometimes be seen leaning out his bedroom window holding jelly or spaghetti to test if they would freeze or snap in the cold.
He was also known to spend hours at a time watching ants as they walked around his house, inserting obstacles in their path so as to observe their communications and responses.
While many of his peers were prone to erudite posturing and pontification, Feynman was practical and pragmatic. He preferred simplifying things instead, famously creating what became known as the Feynman diagram as a method for translating extremely complicated mathematical objects into what looked like children’s drawings. The idea being that any one could play with and manipulate something that was actually extremely complicated. Like Einstein before him, this was the true source of his genius – an uncanny ability to take something complex and, with a humble curiosity, make it simple.
The bible may have blamed curiosity, stoked by a snake, for humanity’s fall from grace, but scientists like Feynman show it’s the opposite. Curiosity is the reason we rose up the ladder of evolution. Our innate capacity and desire to learn propelled us to the top of the food chain, helped us develop the game-changing medium of language, and led to the expansion of the brain’s capabilities to levels beyond all known precedence. This additional cranial capacity – often referred to as the ‘seat of consciousness’ – also bestowed us with perhaps the greatest gift of all: conscious awareness. A faculty and mode of experience which facilitates the exploration of oneself.
And it’s this new capacity for inner exploration that simultaneously encapsulates life’s greatest quest. The goal that all the great spiritual paths speak of: attaining salvation through self-realization. Through the development of awareness.
What most of these religions fail to tell us however – at least in a very clear way – is that there’s no need to place our faith in external prophets, palmists or preachers, nor purveyors of pills and potions. Tempting as their neatly packaged promises may be, they all offer the false allure of ‘received wisdom’ – not real wisdom, which is earned at the personal and experiential level.
When one really thinks about it, it’s not possible to fully know or trust another’s experience – simply because we haven’t lived it for our selves. We can however foster such experiences by developing an interest in all aspects of reality while remaining mindful, like Feynman, of the fact that we cannot wilfully control what we see or experience. Only observe.
Be its witness.
Feynman neatly summed up this mindset when a journalist once asked if he was searching for the ultimate law of physics. His reply: ‘No, I’m not, I’m just looking to learn more about the world. And if there’s a simple law that explains everything, so be it, that would be a very nice discovery. If it turns out it’s just an onion with millions of layers….then that’s the way it is. But whatever it is comes out – its nature is there, and she’s going to come out the way she is.’
Practical Exercise: Adopt ‘Don’t Know Mind’
Consider Feynman’s curiosity-driven approach to life:
- Don’t worry about what others are thinking; never let their judgment get under your skin. Feynman wrote: “You have no responsibility to live up to what other people think you ought to accomplish. I have no responsibility to be like they expect me to
- It’s their mistake, not my failing.”
- Feynman did his best work when his curiosity, interest, and wonder were piqued. He advised: “Fall in love with some activity, and do it!… Nobody ever figures out what life is all about, and it doesn’t matter. Explore the world. Nearly everything is really interesting if you go into it deeply enough. Work as hard and as much as you want to on the things you like to do the best. Don’t think about what you want to be, but what you want to do.”
- Feynman accepted he didn’t know everything and that most of the world was one big mystery. Indeed, he liked not knowing things. He once said: “I think it’s much more interesting to live not knowing than to have answers which might be wrong.”
PAIN Point
Stop trying to be a perfectionist, solve the mystery of the universe or be the smartest person in the room. The world is full of things to wonder at yet never fully understand – and that’s just perfect.
EMBODY COURAGE BY BEING VULNERABLE
Without courage we cannot practice any other virtue with consistency. We can’t be kind, true, merciful, generous, or honest.
Dr. Maya Angelou
In the 1950s, segregation was part of the very fabric of society in the southern states of America. Black people were still second-class citizens without access to the schools, hospitals, housing and other facilities used by whites while protests against the discriminating Jim Crow laws were met with a range of recriminations from fire-hosing and attack dogs to ‘mock’ or very real public lynchings.
This was the time and cultural context in which John Howard Griffin, a white journalist working at Sepia magazine in Texas, decided to darken his skin – by taking high doses of the pigment-altering medicine methoxsalen – and hit the road. For six weeks he toured the racially partitioned states of Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, Arkansas, and Georgia to explore life from the other side of the colour line, to experience first-hand the realities of racism in the deep south. The injustices he witnessed compelled him to write Black Like Me – a brutal record of his experiences, a social document of indignant inhumanity, and a bestselling text still taught today in schools and universities across the U.S.
Before the experiment, when inquiring about life under segregation, Griffin kept hearing the same answer from his predominantly black readership: ‘If you want to know what it’s like to be black, you have to be black.
You can’t otherwise know.’ That’s why he decided to take their advice, and with assistance from a dermatologist friend, step onto the streets of New Orleans one day as a temporary black man. In the weeks that followed, Griffin witnessed first-hand the cultural handcuffs inhibiting the black race: the difficulties finding a decent hotel room, getting a job (despite being highly educated, shoe shine boy, bus porter and truck unloader were the only opportunities afforded him), and simply eating in restaurants he had frequented as a white man. His most shocking testimony, however, went beyond such constraints.
While hitchhiking through Alabama, he noticed the white men who picked him up often drove the conversation towards his sex life which they assumed was more open and animalistic. During one trip, the driver even threatened to kill or throw him in jail if he didn’t agree to share his wife. When Griffin refused, the man’s eyes froze into a ‘hate stare.’ At that moment Griffin realised ‘there was nothing behind there that you could appeal for mercy or compassion. And the terror that I felt was not the terror of what they could do to me, but it was the terror of what they were doing to themselves which is this awful dehumanization of themselves.” Remarkably, because of this he believed the white racists were “just as entrapped by this system… the oppressor is ultimately as much a victim of racism as the oppressed.’
For many, especially those in the north, Black Like Me was a sombre eye-opener. For others, however, it was like throwing oil on a flame that had simmered since the Civil War. A backlash was inevitable. Griffin’s effigy was burned in his Texas hometown while his parents, terrorized by white supremacists, had to move state. Griffin himself was forced to relocate to Mexico, family in tow, to escape the furore. It would be a year before he could return. But he never regretted his unusual investigation. And while it might seem somewhat patronizing, offensive or even a little farcical today, it was a forthright attempt by Griffin to step out of his racial comfort zone and testify to the plight of southern blacks. It was, in his mind, the only way to truly appreciate the raw ugliness of ‘men who destroy the souls and bodies of other men (and in the process destroy themselves) for reasons neither really understands.’ Through it, Griffin was able to open the eyes of a nation to the dehumanizing practices still prevalent in the deep south.
The paradoxical processes that foment racism are a reflection of the inner conflict that rages inside the hearts and minds of every one of us. Most of us don’t notice it but we are persecuting parts of ourselves on a continuous basis. Because they don’t align with our carefully crafted personas and self-images, our ego defences project unwanted traits and memories into the dark recesses of our psyches. Like black people in the south, they are disowned, disassociated from, and demonized.
However instinctual this reaction may be, it’s an almighty act of oppression against ourselves. And acknowledging this fact takes great nerve. For it requires us to be willing to witness what’s really going on – not only the self-deception and oppression, but the feelings of shame and unworthiness they’re designed to bury. A delicate yet fierce form of cour age is required. One that seeks out and sits with the very vulnerabilities we’ve worked so hard, and for so long, to suppress.
As we face down these demons, monstrous fear is ever-present. It wraps itself around our vulnerabilities like a thick muggy mist. If we brave it, however, we’ll find the vulnerabilities we scratch the surface of are the sourcewell of transformation. Far from being weaknesses, they enable and embolden us to step beyond our comfort zones, away from external things that distract us, and inwards, where we can face up to, and eventually assimilate, their wisdom. While travelling through Alabama, Griffin noticed intriguing differences amongst various black communities. Of particular note were those living in the capital, Montgomery, who seemed much more confident and self-assured. Theirs was a palpable sense of strength, determination and a common purpose which he soon came to realise was a direct result of putting into practice the philosophy of Martin Luther King, Jr. A local preacher who had for some time been professing a path of passive resistance based on a simple refusal to acknowledge racist rules or behaviour.
Crucially, this included a refusal to be provoked by white people attempting to confront or punish them which, King maintained, was the only way to effectively fight racism. It was a strategy King learned from other successful agents of change like Mahatma Gandhi, and was based on the premise that total passivity had an unusual effect on one’s suppressors. It confused them, and more often than not, defused the situation. In the same way that Bruce Lee’s ‘fighting without fighting’ was by no means a form of passivity or mollification, this approach required persistent fearlessness to face off to oppression in all its toxic forms. As it turned out, it was the perfect strategy to employ against their persecutors who often sought to rile them to anger first in order to use the reaction as rationale for violating them.
While Griffin’s investigation certainly took courage, Malcolm X put it in proper perspective at the time when he said it may have been ‘a frightening experience for him as nothing but a make-believe Negro for sixty-six days, then you think about what real Negroes in America have gone through for 400 years.’ Of course, he was right. Griffin’s ordeal cannot be compared to several centuries of suffering from slavery. And the strength and spirit to survive such pain can never be truly understood by those who never lived that reality, day in, day out. But it does serve to exemplify and elevate the courage of those who not only suffered these injustices but also stood up against them. And amongst such heroes stands a giant of a man by the name of Frederick Douglass.
Born into slavery in Maryland in 1818, Douglass was acutely exposed to the atrocities, horrors and cruelties of the prison house of bondage that was 19th century America. He watched helplessly as his mother, along with so many other black women, men, and children, had their bodies and souls tortured and maimed on a daily basis. Despite the brutality he was delivered into, the young Douglass retained a great awareness of the moral wrongness of slavery, and crucially, committed to doing something about
- The first step, he realised, was education. This, he saw, was the knee on the neck of southern blacks, and the principal reason why whites were able to keep their foothold on power. So, he set about his own schooling with earnest. Always watching and learning about how the outside world worked, he developed an uncanny ability to trick the local white kids into increasing his academic knowledge by teaching him letters and words, or sharing their books and stories with him. These early actions were the beginnings of a process that would transform Douglass into one of history’s greatest orators. And this, in turn, would help him transform the very future of the United States.
At the age of 20, Douglass managed to escape to the north where he became a leading abolitionist. Vocal and forthright in his views, he spent many months touring the industrialized cities of northern America, and travelled as far afield as London, England and Dublin in Ireland, speaking to all that would listen of the horrors of American slavery and the need for total emancipation. He later settled in Rochester, New York, where he founded an anti-slavery newspaper, The North Star – an unheard-of act for a former slave – which went on to become a roaring success. He used it as a platform to speak about the corrupt system of slavery and to criticize softer abolitionist politicians such as Abraham Lincoln and many of his peers in the Republican party who were, at the time, proposing not so much emancipation and integration, but expulsion of the black race to lands outside America. Of course, such a forced exodus never materialized, and this is due, in no small part, to Douglass’ persistent representation of black people’s rights to live free in the ‘land of the free.’
After reaching the north, Douglass could easily have settled into a relatively peaceful existence. And who would have blamed him. As long as he kept his head down, the threat of being caught and shipped back to the south, along with the most brutal of repercussions, was drastically lower. Instead, he campaigned loudly and courageously for his brethren, making himself very vulnerable in the process. Exemplifying what it takes to enact change was his ability to first see and accept the limitations of the current situation – this was how he came to understand the importance of education. Addressing this, in turn, allowed him to map out the social components that supported the continuance of slavery. It also enabled him to expertly and convincingly speak to the damage it was inflicting on both the oppressor and the oppressed. Acutely aware that the system of slavery was entirely dependent on fear, Douglass set about spreading this message to the masses. But to do this effectively, he first had to conquer his own fears. His success in this endeavour gave him the power and confidence to rise above the dangers and uncertainties surrounding him on all sides. By not succumbing to the inner demons of fear and anger which must surely have been his regular companions, he was able to control his temperament amidst persistent bigotry, articulate his message, and converse directly and calmly with those who opposed him. We would do well to embody the courage of Douglass in our fight against our own versions of slavery – those imposed by our inner demons.
By courageously staying present with our fears and vulnerabilities as they surface in our minds and bodies, we too can shine a light on the nature of our bondage. And this too will start a process that will eventually free us from the chains of our conditioning.
Practical Exercise: Escape the Comfort Cave
- Pick something you really don’t like doing. It could be travelling, meeting new people, family gatherings, even looking in the mir ror. Think about how you consciously or unconsciously organize your life around avoiding having to do this.
- Imagine this pattern of behaviour as a secret cave in which you hide from things you don’t like doing, and the feelings they trig ger. Staying in this cave might keep you safe, but it prevents you from seeing the world, from living your life.
- Now imagine yourself stepping out of this cave, venturing out into the world, and having the courage to face up to whatever comes your way. Invite all the demons roaming outside into your cave. Imagine yourself welcoming them. Serve them tea.
PAIN POINT
When we avoid facing fear, it limits what we do, who we see, where we go. When we face it however, the exact opposite happens. Our so-called fears
and vulnerabilities transform into expressions of who we really are. They become sources of strength.
STOP THE SELF SHAMING AND BLAMING
I said: what about my eyes? He said: Keep them on the road.
I said: What about my passion? He said: Keep it burning.
I said: What about my heart? He said: Tell me what you hold inside it?
I said: Pain and sorrow. He said: Stay with it. The wound is the place where the Light enters you.
Jalal al-Din Rumi
In 1999, industry peers named John Bradshaw ‘One of The 100 Most Influential Writers on Emotional Health in the 20th Century.’ By then, Bradshaw had authored seven best-selling books, was honorary member of the prestigious Meadows Institute foundation, had developed the concept of the ‘inner child’, and was the recipient of a Daytime Emmy award for his ‘Homecoming’ talk show series. Eight years earlier, he had also famously inspired Oprah Winfrey to talk about her childhood of emotional turmoil and sexual abuse in front of millions of viewers. For many, however, his most enduring work and crowning achieve ment is Healing the Shame that Binds You. Published in 1988, the book transformed the lives of millions around the world, patients and therapists alike. While the concept of shame is rightly back in the spotlight of modern psychology and self-help circles, it was Bradshaw’s pioneering depiction of it in personal and clinical case studies which showed the world just how and why it’s a central component of human compulsions such as co-dependency, lying, addiction, and the drive to super-achieve or underachieve.
As one of the most primitive human emotions, we all live with the fear, angst and feelings of unworthiness that shame creates.2 Its ubiquity, along with the immense power it has to play havoc with our well-being, was one of the reasons Bradshaw began exploring and unpacking it in the first place (he was a recovering drunk who had suffered more than his fair share of its corrosive impact).
To this end, he broke down shame into two simple categories: healthy and toxic. Like any emotion, the healthy version of shame moves us towards getting our basic needs met. It causes us to feel guilty if we are selfish, blush when we make a mistake, and helps keep us grounded when we get too ahead of ourselves. All with the goal of ensuring our actions align with the socially accepted norms of the society in which we live. Toxic shame, on the other hand, has a much more destructive bent. It makes things personal by transforming failure from an action into an identity. Instead of saying ‘I made a mistake’, we think ‘I am a mistake.’ In this way, our self-image assumes a deep aura of wrongness. And as Bradshaw noted, once this chain of events kicks off, it ‘has the demonic potential to encompass our whole personality.’
- The only people who don’t are those who lack the capacities of empathy and human connection i.e., psychopaths and sociopaths. A fact which could explain why this minority are so successful in the world of business. Various studies put the number of pathological people in senior corporate roles at anywhere between 4 percent and 12 percent, many times more than the 1 percent rate found in the general population and more in line with the 15 percent rate found in prisons. A lack of core emotions such as shame appears to propel these folk to success, in large part because they’re liable to take more risks due to not being afraid of failure and its potential repercussions. Whereas, for the rest of us, with our deep complexes wrapped in shame and fear, the possibility of failure, social rejection, and the patterns of negativity it triggers, can be absolutely paralyzing. The resulting pain is so immense that we often decide that it’s just not worth going there, not worth taking the risk, so we do all manner of things to avoid it.
In his book The Feeling of What Happens, renowned neuroscientist and consciousness expert Antonio Damasio explains that ‘sometimes we use our minds not to discover facts but to hide them.’ This has benefits as it allows us to focus on and attend to pressing problems. More issues arise, however, if what we hide remains unresolved and unexpressed. For when we repress something because we fear facing it, or fear others finding out about it, we often enter into what can be called Fear-Shame-Blame loops – negative belief and behavioural patterns powered by shame and blame.
Those who are prone to panic attacks, for example, become preoccupied with making a fool of themselves in public, and retreat from the world to reduce their exposure to the judgement and criticism of others. But this also tends to increase their sense of isolation and alienation. Self-loathing and shame soon follow as they berate themselves for the bottomless hole they’ve dug for themselves. The result: a Fear-Shame-Blame loop. Buddhists have a name for this human tendency to berate ourselves for anything that goes wrong in our lives. They call it the ‘second arrow.’
The following vignette explains why: The Buddha once asked a student: ‘If a person is struck by an arrow is it painful?’ The student replied ‘It is.’ The Buddha then asked ‘If the person is struck by a second arrow, is that even more painful?’ The student replied again ‘It is.’ The Buddha then explained ‘In life, we cannot always control the first arrow; however, the second arrow is our reaction to the first. And with this second arrow comes the possibility of choice.’
When we’re so busy stabbing ourselves with second arrows we’re too embroiled in our suffering to see what’s really going on. We remain stuck in a loop. And we do it all the time. But it’s possible to step out of this vicious cycle by watching out for signs that it’s happening. Anger is one that’s easy to notice: when our insecurities are triggered and we feel threatened they may be laid bare, the reactive energy infusing our bodies often manifests as resentment or rage. Signs of self-sabotage – when we destroy our own chances of success or happiness – is another one. On the more extreme end of the spectrum are addictions – drug, alcohol, gambling, etc. – but it can also occur in more subtle ways such as: a proneness to mishaps, ‘forgetting’ deadlines, failing to prepare properly for meetings or presentations, con sistently late for work despite repeated warnings. Anything that keeps us stuck in a loop by distracting us (and, we believe, others) from our feelings of pain and shame.
Freud coined the term ‘id’ to refer to the part of our psyche that acts out against our conscious wishes. While Jung excavated an old Greek word
‘Enantiodromia’ to denote something similar, explaining it as ‘the emergence of the unconscious opposite in the course of time…when an extreme, one-sided tendency dominates conscious life; in time an equally powerful counterposition is built up which first inhibits the conscious performance and subsequently breaks through the conscious control.’ Both Swiss psychiatrists, in essence, were referring to the unpredictable behaviour of disowned and abandoned demons.
Before his death, the American poet Robert Bly came to believe that a cultural space exists in modern society, one that allows shame to fester and foment much easier than ever before. As corrective measures, he proposed a revival of traditional myths and fairy-tales as well as coming-of-age rites and rituals. Rediscovering their hidden messages and meanings, he maintained, was the only way in which humanity can appreciate the value of a ‘spiritual descent’ – the process of freeing ourselves from conditioning in order to realise our full potential. Without this, he believed, depression and addictions such as alcoholism and gambling would remain rife in the world.
The practices outlined in this book can help us drain what Bly referred to as the ‘long bag we drag behind us’ – a metaphor he coined for the aspects of ourselves that we’ve suppressed out of shame. He wrote that ‘we spend our life until we’re twenty deciding what parts of ourselves to put in the bag…and we spend the rest of our lives trying to get them out again.’ Unless we cease berating ourselves for its contents, we’ll continue to drag our long bags of shame behind us, even to our graves.
Practical Exercise: Empty the Bag of Shame
Close your eyes, take three slow, deep breaths, then:
- Let your mind drift back to a time when you felt deeply embarrassed and ashamed. This might be a time when you were a child.
- Connect to the earlier self who survived the shame. Imagine stepping into their body to truly feel the distressing emotions of that experience. Feel the physical manifestations of the shame bubbling up in your body. Now relax your body and patiently stay with it. Take long, deep, slow breaths; imagine the breath flowing into the parts of your body that feels the most uncomfortable and know that you can handle the situation differently now.
- You are now able to look after your younger self and process their shame. Repeat this again and again for different situations to free yourself from repressed emotions, to empty your bag of shame.
PAIN Point
Toxic shame is an insidious destroyer of lives. Understanding how, why and when it occurs is the first and most important step to freeing oneself from its depressive and corrosive power.
HARNESS THE ENERGY OF EMOTIONS
The body is the shore of the ocean of being.
Sufi Saying
Ever hear of Ernst Wilhelm Ritter von Brücke? Probably not. The Austrian’s contributions to science and psychology remain hugely significant however, not least because many of the great names we do know learned a lot from him. As a senior professor at the University of Vienna from 1849 to 1890, von Brucke pioneered research into the nature of cells, the physiology of language, the science of optics, the effects of electricity on muscles, and much more besides. He unsurprisingly became a role model for many of his students, among them an ambitious young man named Sigmund Freud. As the professor’s protege and wingman of sorts, Freud witnessed first-hand von Brücke’s vocal opposition to vitalism, a popular theory of the day that maintained living things differed from inanimate objects because they possessed some kind of non-physical element – a ‘vital spark’ of energy likened to a soul or spirit – not dissimilar to the Stoic concept of ‘Pneuma’ meaning ‘breath of life’.
Partly in opposition to this movement, and partly because of his obsession with systems theory, von Brücke spearheaded the development of a brand-new branch of psychology. ‘Psychodynamics’ became a vehicle for his theory that all living things are dynamic and thus derive their nature, not from a divine spark or spirit, but the laws of physics and chemistry.
The central principle of psychodynamics is that all living organisms are essentially energy-systems to which the first law of thermodynamics applies. Namely, that ‘the total amount of energy in any given physical system is always constant, that energy quanta can be changed but not annihilated, and that consequently when energy is moved from one part of the system, it must reappear in another part.’ Freud was fascinated with this concept, and became convinced it was correct. Adopting it as his own, and developing it further, he transposed it onto his theory of the psyche. Along with contemporaries such as Jung, Freud employed it specif ically as a means for analysing and understanding the transformation and exchanges of emotional energies between patients and therapists. Later, it also became central to his more expansive ideas concerning the makeup of patients’ psyches. The ego, id, superego and libido were parts of the personality which, he maintained, interchanged emotions on a continual basis and subsequently led to the development of habits, behaviours and, more often than not, some level of neurosis. Jung too borrowed from psycho dynamics theory for some of his more positive-leaning principles. One example was the psyche’s tendency towards spirituality and wholeness, a life-long process he referred to as ‘individuation’. It might be somewhat of a leap to transmute the term ‘energy’ from physics into the realm of psychology. It’s unaided by the adoption and mutation of the word, along with synonyms such as ‘chi’ and ‘aura’, by new-age and pseudo-scientific movements. It’s also true, however, that the breaking down of logical barriers between mind and body in modern medical and psychological disciplines requires terminology that is intelligible and intuitive. The term ‘energy’ is useful in this sense as it can be used to describe the emotional forces, thoughts and instincts that not only drive human behaviours, especially at the subconscious level, but those which are common to many animals to varying degrees.
Remember the etymological origin of ‘emotion’? It means ‘energy in motion.’ While the origin of the word ‘thought’ is an old Germanic word meaning to ‘conceive in the mind’. Energies, in this sense, can be considered as the continuous inter-flow of thoughts and emotions. With its ever-fluctuating energies, the mind-body is therefore a prime example of a psychodynamic system. Whilst aspects of Freud’s theories have been debunked in recent decades, his ground-breaking work on the nature of the subconscious revolutionized our understanding of the human mind. This is particularly evident in the boom in popularity of psychoanalytic and psychodynamic therapies over the last century or so. Both are relationship-based disciplines that treat mental and mood dysfunctions in a holistic manner – in contrast to treatments such as CBT (Cognitive Behaviour Therapy), for example, which is more rational and logic-based – by enabling an open and unrestrained examination of the mind, body, psyche and personality.
One of the reasons for their popularity is the radical lens through which they view the interrelationships between internal (and often conflicting) aspects of the conscious and subconscious. By identifying, recognizing, and accepting whatever inner dynamics the patient is experiencing, therapists use these modalities to help patients conduct a loosely controlled inquiry into the habitual, unconscious structures of the mind. As treatment progresses, often over many months or years, patterns of behaviours and experience to which the patient was entirely blind may come into view. In this way, inner demons are gradually lured, one by one, out of their shadowy realms and into the light of awareness where they can be freed forever.
The PAIN Process is founded on a similar framework. As such, it too can be considered a form of psychodynamics therapy, albeit one that’s practiced alone. Instead of a relationship between a therapist and patient, it’s a compilation of practices, attitudes and disciplines that depend upon and develop a close relationship between our conscious awareness (Self with a capital ‘S’) and the demonized aspects buried deep within our psyches.
Both relationships invariably begin with a personal acknowledgment of the other; a validation of their right to exist; followed by a non-judgemental recognition of the problems they harbour. Further development of this Self/Demonic relationship requires us to play the part of a detached but concerned helper – just as a therapist would – achieved via the cultivation of compassion for ourselves, empathy for the distress of our demons, and clemency towards our egos for reacting to their existence by denying and suppressing them.
It’s important to emphasise here that neither good therapists nor our witnessing Selves explicitly seek to change their patients or demons, only to change our relationship with them. The difference is vast. One is based on a foundation of acceptance, the other is based on a desire to resist and control. One sets us up for success. The other for dismay. As we patiently and persistently observe our ever-changing psychodynamics, we’ll eventually notice that all the energies inside us have something in common: they are driven by a desire to have something or not have something, to resist pain and move towards pleasure. The source of all suffering, we’ll come to understand, is our pathological relationship with adversity, our predilection to avoid pain. Experiencing this insight is a huge step forward in the process.
Practical Exercise: Releasing Trapped Emotions
Sit or lie down in a comfortable position; close your eyes and take three slow, deep breaths, then:
- Focus your attention on an area of discomfort or pain in your body. Let your attention rest on this area in a gentle and non-in teractive way. Just feel the quality of the sensations in this area.
- Now allow your imagination to gently bring forth any thoughts associated with these feelings. This may give you a sense of what is going on there. Be patient and give yourself lots of time to do this.
- Even if you don’t get an overt indication or message, attending to areas of the body in this way will allow you to feel and encour age blocked energy to move more easily through it (remember: unprocessed emotions are often held in the body in the form of tension, pain, heat or stiffness).
PAIN Point
Emotions are the energy of life. When they flow and follow their natural course, we are healthy. When they’re restricted, the resulting blockages inhibit our health and wellbeing. Pay attention therefore to your mood, body and energy levels – they will tell you if something is wrong.
DIVE INTO THE FEAR-BODY
Anything that arises in the mind will manifest itself as a sensation on the body; if you observe this sensation, you are observing both the mind as well as matter.
S.N. Goenka
Widely hailed as a classic of Western literature, Dante’s Inferno describes the author’s imagined journey to hell and back. Guided by his hero, the ancient Roman poet Virgil, Dante descends through nine realms of suffering, each a prison of punishment for sinners of increasing wickedness. In the outer lairs of Limbo and Lust the duo encounter pagans and the promiscuous, the latter pummelled by a savage storm – a perennial penance for bowing to the whimsical winds of carnal desires. The sights and sounds of the six subsequent realms – namely Gluttony, Greed, Wrath, Heresy, Violence and Fraud – shake the author to his core as he witnesses first-hand the self-forged fates of a broad spectrum of tyrants, from murderers and war-mongers to sorcerers and false prophets. Some of the damned have their heads twisted around their bodies, compelled to blindly blunder backwards for all eternity, while others are destined to be torn to pieces again and again by demons with razor sharp claws and grappling hooks. Those who were once ‘ready to rip up the whole fabric of society to gratify a sectional egotism’ are mutilated with bloody swords, their wounds allowed to heal only for them to be shredded apart again.
Dante was just one of a long series of scribes and scholars, religious or otherwise, throughout history who were fixated on pain and suffering.
Indeed, it’s a permanent fixture within most religions. Why is this the case? And does it somehow serve a grander purpose other than punishment – a quid pro quo – for misdeeds done? The author and philosopher Alan Watts believed this was the case: that the hell of suffering holds priceless lessons – including the potential to escape it forever, if borne in the right manner. In The Wisdom of Insecurity, he writes of a Chinese sage who was once asked ‘How shall we escape the heat of suffering?’ to which he replied, ‘Go right into the middle of the fire.’ ‘But how then’ came the response ‘shall we escape the scorching flame?’ To which the wise man replied: ‘No further pain will trouble you!’ Dante’s magnum opus takes this message to its heart. It begins with the author lost in a dark wood where Virgil discovers then guides him into hell’s fiery depths. It ends with the duo scaling Satan’s hairy back, past his genitalia and right down through the very centre of the earth, ultimately emerging beneath an open sky on the opposite side of the world. The edict is an epistle that spans cultures and religions, spiritualities and psychologies since time immemorial: that one must first gain knowledge of darkness before attaining the clarity of light. That the only way to God – read heaven, nirvana, enlightenment, awakening, peace, oneness, contentment etc. – is to first go through its opposite. Down the scaffolding of fear to where the rubber of our bodies meets the road of reality. Into the physical sensations of pain itself. It’s a course of action that’s completely counter-intuitive to Western culture (in which we’re programmed to resist feeling unpleasant experiences at all costs). But when we slowly and subtly shift our awareness into the uncomfortable sensations of our bodies, strange and almost magical things start to happen. We start to see and understand how pain in different parts of the body feel in and of themselves without any mental stories attached. We observe their subtle interconnections. What appears, for example, to be a headache may, upon closer inspection, connect into stiffness in our neck or throat, which may be hooked into a tightness in our hearts or stomachs. This, in turn, may elicit emotions in our mind-body systems that lead to fearful thoughts, and so on. The complex patterns of our psycho-physiological associations – thoughts, beliefs, memories, sensations and reactions – gradually reveal themselves in this manner.
Fear is the glue that sets and holds such patterns together. Fearful reactions constrict our bodies, clench our stomachs and tighten our shoulders. If these contractions are not fully processed, released and relaxed, they create blocked patterns in the body that bubble up into our awareness now and then as unpleasant physical sensations. Sometimes these are subtle and barely noticeable, sometimes not. Either way, we instinctively try to ignore the feeling and suppress it. They become half-processed emotions frozen in time and space, deep within our bodies. Through the lens of these event-chains, it’s not so strange then that the ninth and last realm of hell that Dante encounters, where history’s greatest traitors are found, is a vast expanse of ice. This is where the devil himself is found frozen waist-deep in a glacial lake, gnawing on Judas Iscariot with one of his three heads. For centuries, scholars have wondered why Dante iced up the centre of hell, but in this context, it makes perfect sense. Dr. Eugene Gendlin had a huge influence on the world of experiential psychotherapy. In the 1950s and 60s, while working alongside Carl Rogers at the University of Chicago, he became fascinated with the impact of lived experience on therapeutic success. Through a series of ground-breaking research projects, he was able to demonstrate that patients who were able to access a ‘nonverbal bodily feel’ of unresolved issues were significantly more likely to realise lasting positive change. The discovery of this intuitive body-feel – which he called the ‘felt sense’ – not only impacted Rogers’ beliefs and view of psychotherapy, it spawned a whole range of body-centered therapies including ‘Focusing’, devised by Gendlin himself in the 1970s, and Hakomi (Hopi Indian for ‘How do you stand in relation to these many realms?’), developed by Ron Kurtz around the same time.
A contemporary and admirer of Gendlin, Kurtz expanded upon the ‘felt sense’ approach by integrating it with other psychological disciplines as well as aspects of Eastern traditions such as Taoism and Buddhism. Both techniques rely on therapists helping patients develop their ability to work with the whole of their experience, especially the body’s inner sensations that are painful or uncomfortable which are often ignored. The objective being to bring special attention to complex emotional feelings and associated thoughts until they make themselves clear. In this way, suppressed emotions, blockages and trauma can be released from the bodies of patients.
There are many more modern experiential therapies that tally closely with these techniques. So closely in fact that it’s possible to outline the central tenets underpinning them all, which are as follows (note: while these methods are extremely useful for identifying and removing all forms of conditioning, it’s critical for those suffering from severe trauma or PTSD engage a trained therapist before/while carrying out body-centered practices as they can easily re-traumatize):
- Pay close attention to bodily sensations, from the vague and subtle to the gross and acute (witnessing one’s inner experience is the first step to freedom from negative conditioning).
- Locate a safe place in the body (after a lifetime of trauma and conditioning, the body as a whole doesn’t feel safe anymore, so it’s important to locate at least one area which can serve as a place to retreat to when things get overwhelming).
- Re-engage with the present (stress makes us contract, resist feeling the associated physical sensations, and jump into our minds and out of the present/our bodies; but this only inhibits the process).
- Don’t fear uncomfortable physical sensations such as stiffness and tautness (physical manifestations of fear and suppression), or shaking and trembling (a natural mechanism – common to many animals – for releasing trapped energy after a traumatic event).
- Stay with the feeling as it shifts and evolves (welcome and listen to the place trying to speak; notice its quality, flavour, and intensity; be ready for whatever it expresses).
- If/when the pain gets overwhelming, alternate the focus of your awareness to the body’s safe place (this brings respite during intense experiences, and also serves to connect disassociated parts of the body).
Depending on the nature and degree of trauma and conditioning, there are many alternative yet analogous methods which can be consid ered. The techniques go by many names: Somatic Engineering (Dr. Peter
- Levine), Somatic Descent (Reginald A. Ray), Facing the Fear-Body (Tara Brach), Inhabiting the Pain-Body (Eckhart Tolle), and the ancient Buddhist practice of Vipassana (aka ‘Insight meditation’) are just a few. All focus on developing an embodied and visceral connection with our fears and anxieties so we can finally identify, experience and process the associated pain. In other words: they help us hunt and heal our demons.
Practical Exercise: Seeing Clearly I
Note: This exercise can be carried out as is, or combined with the exercise at the end of the next chapter.
Close your eyes, take three long, slow, deep breaths, then:
- Scan your life for a place of difficulty that’s triggering a reactive emotion of fear, shame, hurt or sadness. This could be a negative behaviour, a work problem or a relationship issue; something that has a charged reaction which you’d like to find more balance in the midst of (but not something that’s too overwhelming like trauma).
- Next bring to mind a situation that exemplifies when this get triggered e.g. where you hear criticisms, or when you’re behaving in a negative or addictive way that’s upsetting to you. Pretend you’re watching a movie of yourself and go to the frame where you feel most emotionally reactive; now freeze that frame, and sense what is triggering you.
- Recognize whatever is most predominant inside of you at this moment e.g. fear, anger, hurt, maybe you feel frozen or numb (this might be something with a stuck intention or emotion). Silently name whatever it is you are most aware of, and just let it be in this moment. Make space for whatever it is (this doesn’t that mean you like it; it just means you acknowledge it is present in your life right now). Allow it to be there while you focus on deepening your attention around it.
PAIN Point
Learning to contact, access, process and integrate your demons is the key to successful living. The first step is connecting to their felt sense in the body in an open, curious and non-judgmental manner.
EDGE-SENSE IN THE MURKY ZONE
Perhaps all the dragons in our lives are princesses who are only waiting to see us act, just once, with beauty and courage. Perhaps everything that frightens us is, in its deepest essence, something helpless that wants our love.
Rainer Maria Rilke
Once the parasite attaches itself to the ant’s exoskeleton, the creature is done for. Over the following days and weeks, it undergoes what is possibly the most bizarre and disturbing transformation in the whole of the animal kingdom. Piercing the ant’s tough outer skin, achieved through a combination of corrosive enzymes and mechanical pressure, the fungus soon reaches the host’s circulation system. As blood, immune and oxygen cells all bathe within the same viscous fluid, it now has carte blanche access to the ant’s entire anatomy. The invading cells swiftly propagate throughout the body and eventually attach to the brain itself. Once a critical mass is achieved, compounds are secreted to form a communication network that enable the sophisticated attacker to coordinate as it commandeers its victim’s muscles and central nervous system. At this point, the ant is now a zombie. A puppet under complete control of the parasite. Over the next two weeks, the Ophiocordyceps fungus soaks up nutrients from the viscous broth as it grows inside its host. But this is not enough. It needs to reach a place where it can bloom, which is where things get even weirder. It forces the ant to leave the safety of its nest and climb up T.J. CONNOLLY a nearby plant stem. Stopping at a height of approximately 25 centimetres – just the right temperature and humidity for it to bear fruit – the fungus compels its victim to clamp its chops down on the underside of a leaf. The infamous ‘death grip.’ Purpose: to prevent the upside-down ant from falling off the foliage as it’s slowly eaten alive, thus enabling the proper growth of the fruiting body. Once this position is attained, the parasite digests everything, including the brain, before presenting its penultimate party piece. Like something straight out of a science fiction movie, a long stalk erupts right out of the top of the insect’s head culminating in a bulbous stockpile of spores that sprinkle out over the foraging ants below. An entire colony can be claimed in this manner.
Fear acts on humans in much the same way. Like a zombie fungus, it bores into our bodies and hijacks vital processes. Our whole anatomy is transformed as we tense up, heartbeat quickens, breathing becomes stunted, blood pressure rises. Immune, endocrine, and gastrointestinal systems are impaired as the body prepares to flee or fight. Only nowadays we don’t flee. We don’t fight. We stay exactly where we are. We freeze. And its impact goes way beyond the physiological. To conserve energy in threatening situations, our brains subvert to a much simpler method of recording and encoding experiences. This makes sense for short-lived situations, but it can cause mayhem over the long-term as emotions don’t get fully processed by the limbic area of the brain. Associated memories are not fully rationalised by the neocortical (human reasoning) region either. With nowhere to go, they return to the brain-stem, a primordial part of the brain that’s simply not equipped to store or process them, at least not in any healthy or holistic manner. Unexpressed and disconnected, the fragmented patterns of memories and emotions remain in limbo. In the case of PSTD, these bundles of emotionally-charged memories are like psychic shrapnel bombs. Planted like mines in our bodies, they can be triggered at any moment by random events and sensory experiences.
Unlike real bombs however, their payloads are not neatly packed. Indeed, scientists are discovering the degree to which these patterns spread out across the nervous system – not just within the brain-stem and spinal cord but quite possibly the nerve cells in muscles, skin, the heart and gut. This would explain the often-visceral nature of negative and painful memories. It would also explain why symbols, sounds and images are common in traumatic flashbacks (the higher-level linguistic region of the brain is never
engaged). In the 1990s, neuroscientist Anthony Damasio carried out a study that corroborated this dynamic. Using brain scans, he observed that negative experiences, when actively remembered by the patient, caused changes to the brain-stem areas that receive nerve signals from the body. A mound of scientific research has since connected our emotions to these primordial neural networks – especially those that deal with physical sensations and autonomic responses – confirming that the whole body, not just the brain, is intricately involved in the generation and experiencing of emotions. This takes the idea of psychosomatic causes and effects to a whole new level. For it means that people frozen with fear – which is all of us, some of the time, to varying degrees – are living with a parasite that’s infiltrated the entire mind-body system. Its pervasive presence not only increases our susceptibility to sickness, it inhibits the body’s natural ability to heal. While there’s not much we can do to prevent trauma (it’s almost possible to go through life without experiencing disturbing events we’re not, at the time, emotionally equipped to deal with), there are ways in which we can address the problem of not having processed them properly. They are based on two broad means by which fear-fuelled emotions can intentionally be triggered and re-energized: top-down (mental) and bottom-up (physical). Two means by which we can purge the parasite of fear.
The top-down approach, centring on talk therapy, is important and super impactful (as long as you find the right modality/therapist for your issue) but as its widely known and adopted we’ll skip past it here.
The bottom-up approach involves working with the physical imprints of painful memories in the body in order to awaken and heal them. This is the beginning point for body-focused treatments such as reflexology, yoga, somatic experiencing, and meditation techniques such as Kundalini and Vipassana. Techniques that work by enabling the patient/practitioner to viscerally detect and detonate (read: relive and release) emotionally-charged shrapnel bombs in a controlled manner. Results are achieved by staying with the physical sensations of the body (which are typically subtle and barely noticeable to the conscious mind as it invariably prefers focusing on, well, anything else). The life of the Ophiocordyceps fungus has one more twist. It turns out that the pathogen has a small but powerful arch-enemy: a cannibalistic mushroom that feeds on other parasitic fungi. Technically known as a hyper-parasite, it can reduce the spore count of the ant-eating fungus by as much as 95 percent (the resulting drop in reproductive ability explains how ant colonies are able to survive fungus infestations). It’s also a neat analogy for what we can do to keep our own fearful pathogens at bay: take on the characteristics of a hyper-parasite. Bore deep into our bodies, into the physical sensations of fear, and plant ourselves firmly in what Dr. Gendlin called the ‘murky zone’ – the place where the mental meets the physical, where the conscious borders on the subconscious. Here we carry out what he called ‘edge sensing’ – a subtle feeling in conscious awareness of the emotionally-charged energies and sensations that flow through our bodies, be it in our hearts, gut, brain, or wherever else they may go. We just want to follow the internal physical feelings of our body, whatever they may be, not the thoughts that invariably arise along with them. This form of attention awakens the energy of suppressed emotions and encourages them to re-enact themselves. If we experience this revival without evaluation, interference or shirking away, the blocked-up energy patterns gradually process and release. Sometimes this happens quickly, more often it takes many rounds. Every time it’s different. If we persist, our inner demons will gradually release themselves from their prisons. And we’ll begin to ‘see things clearly’ (which, if you remember, is exactly what Vipassana means in its original Pali). While this is largely an experiential practice, certain questions can be used to transport us faster into the murky zone. Gendlin, for example, recommended starting this process by asking yourself; ‘What are you worried about?’ or ‘What do you need?’ – addressed directly to the unpleasant sensations as if talking to a friend.
Open-ended inquiries are also one of the primary tools in the Somatic Experiencing method developed by Dr. Peter A. Levine. Our bodies are continually replaying traumatic and painful events which ‘happened years and even decades before…as if time has gotten stuck inside them,’ he writes in ‘Waking the Tiger.’ These ‘chronic negative emotions often don’t change until the underlying sensation patterns change. And this can only happen through enhanced body awareness.’ If a patient is feeling uncomfortable heart sensations, for example, they can simply try to notice if it increases, decreases, remains the same, or if something else happens – maybe it spreads or moves around in some way. Another powerful question, recommended by Buddhist psychologist Tara Brach, is simply asking ‘What am I afraid to feel?’ When we gently drop this inquiry into the internal ether and wait patiently, an answer often arises with an unexpected insight about the emotions and beliefs that have been holding us back. This may be followed by a bodily sense of release or opening. At this point, we can be assured something held deep inside has come unstuck – a demon has escaped its dungeons of hell and ascended into heaven.
Practical Exercise: Seeing Clearly II
Note: This exercise should be carried out in conjunction with the preceding one (from chapter ‘Dive into the Fear-Body’) As you deepen your attention with an unpleasant situation and feeling….
- Gently but persistently inquire into the nature of the bodily feeling. Ask yourself: “what most needs attention here?” or “what is the most difficult part of this?” Feel into your body and sense if there is a feeling of judgement or dislike. You might ask “what am I believing when this is happening” Maybe there is a belief that you’re a failure, unlovable, or you’re being disrespected in some way. The most important thing is to come into the body and sense whatever you’re feeling physically. Pay attention to how it feels in your head, throat, stomach. What’s the felt sense: heat, rawness, ache, tense, squeezed?
- It might help to let your face or body express what you’re feeling – allow your face to frown or your shoulders to hunch or tense – in order to fully contact the experience being triggered. What do you notice? Feel into the most vulnerable place in your body; if this place could communicate, what would it want you to know? Maybe there’s words, an image, a stronger feeling. Ask the vulner able place “how do you want me to be with you?” “What does it most need?” Does it want you to feel or know something?
- Begin to sense the possibility of responding to this place inside you with the most loving and wise part of you. Stay in contact with it as you call on your love and compassion. Sense you can offer what it needs by gently touching your heart or belly with your hands. As energy starts flowing into the place of vulnerability you may notice a shift as you begin to regard your demons with compassion.
PAIN Point
When we are caught in a never-ending cycle of fear-fuelled reactions, we spend our time and energy fighting for life instead of living it. Clearly recognizing and connecting to what is happening inside of us, within our nervous systems and bodies, reveals the fear and shame that drives our behaviours. This revelation leads to healing and freedom.
DROP RESISTANCE TO RELEASE DEMONS
Character, like photographs, is developed in darkness
Yousuf Karsh
At first glance, Lester Levenson seemed to have it all. Born into a middle-class family in 1909, he sailed through high school before attending Rutgers University on a full scholarship, which he also found a breeze. Naturally ambitious and driven to achieve, Levenson went on to become a well-respected physicist, engineer, and serial entrepreneur. By 1952, after setting up several successful businesses, the self-made millionaire was literally living the high life in a penthouse apartment overlooking New York’s Central Park. The world, it seemed, was his oyster. Except for one problem – the oyster was rotten. Despite all the worldly success, Levenson was deeply unhappy and extremely unhealthy. In fact, he was in such bad shape – suffering from an array of ailments including depression, kidney stones, spleen trouble, horrendous migraines, jaundice and ulcers perforating his stomach – that after his second heart attack, doctors simply sent him home to die, giving him about three months to live.
As he left the hospital that day, their final instructions to him were to move as little as possible, and to ‘buy loafers, because if you bend over to tie your shoelaces, you may die.’
Many may have resigned themselves to the inevitable and prepared for death. But Levenson had a different disposition. Determined to find some sense in his sorry state, he instinctively turned to his precious library HOW TO HUNT DEMONS full of books on science, engineering, mathematics and physics. But he’d spent his whole life studying the philosophies, logic, economics, and all the other major fields of humanity, yet here he still was: lonely, scared, in pain, on the cusp of death, at just 42 years of age.
‘For a smart boy, you are stupid, stupid, stupid’, he said to himself as he admitted for the first time that his accumulated knowledge was no use to him now. If the answers were outside of him, he would have found them by now. So the scientist within him asked some basic open-ended questions: ‘What’s life all about?’ ‘What’s my relationship to this world?’ ‘What do I want out of life?’ With the last question, his mind abruptly offered up an answer: happiness. But ‘what then’, he probed, ‘is happiness?’ And ‘When was I happiest?’ As he continued this line of inquiry, Levenson dove down into the ocean of his past, recalling all the moments he felt happiest. The memories flooding back floated one prevailing message: happiness was much more real when he felt love for others as opposed to when he felt loved by others. As he began reorienting his thoughts and feelings towards this reality, the resulting flip in perception led to a second major revelation, one which ultimately tipped him towards a full recovery.
He realised he had spent his whole life trying to change everything around him, to bend the world to his will, but all this had done was make him a slave to the world. This, he realised, was the root of all his ailments. So, day and night, week after week, he relentlessly ran through and replaced the subconscious concepts and pressures underpinning this mindset, all the while avoiding books and preconceived notions of what he ‘should’ do, or what others expected him to do. After a month, he started feeling freer, lighter, happier. This gave him momentum to continue the process for another two months – the same period doctors had given him to live – until he intuitively felt all his physical and mental ailments had disappeared.
Levenson went on to live another 42 years, apparently never once seeing another doctor. During this additional lifetime he developed what became known as the Sedona Method – a set of self-directed queries, asked at the precise and very vulnerable moment when we allow ourselves to really feel whatever it is we are feeling:
‘Could I let it go?’
‘Would I let it go?’
‘When?’
The simplicity of these inner queries belies their power to free us from demonic conditioning. The key is repetition: keep zeroing in on internal discomforts, disturbances or desires unsettling us, then targeting them with rounds of the same or similar questions until something happens, until a shift is felt in the body.
Part of their power is their ability to demonstrate that even our deepest, most negative feelings reside on the surface of our being. Underneath there is no pain, iniquity or darkness. Just as we see nothing but empty space – the vast gaps between sub-atomic molecules – when we magnify an object large enough, when we dive into and through the very core of our pain, we reach a point where we see there’s nothing actually there. Just space, peace, awareness.
There are many more techniques and therapies that help us dig through the ego’s surface to a place where we can work on dissolving its armoured shell from within. To test if one works, just check if you are feeling lighter and freer afterwards. If yes, it’s effective. This is because, as each piece of the ego’s shell is discarded, we are enlightened of another insecurity that, up to now, has been secretly controlling our lives. And the beauty is that once we are liberated of some insecurity, it’s gone forever – we never have to think of it again. It’s like a fly buzzing at the window, repeatedly banging its head against the glass in the belief that it can fly right through. Eventually it comes across an open window and shoots straight out to the open air, into the light, the breeze, amongst the flowers and the trees. Will it dwell on the window-banging phase of its life? Of course not, it’s too busy enjoying life.
Practical Exercise: Four Steps to Wisdom
In his seminal book ‘Awareness’, Anthony De Mello outlines the following
four steps to wisdom. Find somewhere quiet and try it out…
- Get in touch with negative feelings that you’re not aware of.
- Understand that the feeling is in you, not in reality (so stop trying to change reality, or the other person).
- Never identify with the feeling, which has nothing do to with your true essential self.
- Always remember – you are the one who needs to change.
PAIN Point
Limiting thoughts, feelings and beliefs comprise our conditioning – programming that prevents us from creating and living the lives we choose. The way to free ourselves from its demonic control is to identify its presence in our minds and bodies: without any judgement or resistance, simply ask why it exists, what it needs to be let go. If we wait and listen, it will tell us.