Meditation for Trauma Healing

a woman sitting on a dock in front of a body of water.

Sometimes, when people ask me what I do for a living and I’m in the right kind of mood, I tell them I’m a tour guide through the realm of emotional pain. This is a sassy and, perhaps, slightly macabre way of describing myself and my work, but it’s an honest one. As a mindfulness-based psychotherapist and self-aware wounded healer, I know that keeping people company while they make contact with their own wounds is the most significant part of what I do. And it’s something I do with great reverence for the people who choose me to take the journey with them.

These people, my beloved clients, often seek me out in the midst of great suffering. Many of them have gone through dramatic and traumatic life experiences that interrupt their lives and negatively impact their functioning. When they arrive to their first session, many of them fight to hold back tears; they make visible efforts to hold themselves together, showing just how much life energy they’ve been expending to avoid falling apart. Once they know it’s safe to surrender, they allow themselves to reveal the pain they’ve been holding—and it’s heavy. In this beautiful clearing, they allow me to join with them and begin the healing process.

Often, clients come to see me because they know I incorporate mindfulness and meditation in the therapeutic process. Some of them have heard about meditation or been encouraged to try it, and they arrive eager to access anything that will give them some relief. Naturally, they assume that meditation will help them clear their minds and get free from the internal chaos that’s causing them so much anguish. This heartens me, as I know the abundant healing potential meditation holds. But in almost every case, I bookmark that chapter of our work together until a later time. Here’s why.

Meditation can be a remarkably effective tool that aids in the healing process. A regular practice has been found to calm the sympathetic nervous system, thus reducing the fight-or-flight response associated with trauma and post-traumatic stress. It’s also been shown to produce structural and functional brain changes that support healing. But it isn’t always advisable for survivors of trauma to hop onto the cushion right away. In fact, practicing without attending to other things first can actually interfere with and complicate the healing process.

If you practice meditation, you know that the notion of the mind getting quiet is a complete fallacy. Our brains simply aren’t wired to go silent whenever we want them to—if they could, traumas could be resolved pretty rapidly, and a whole lot of human suffering would be eliminated. Instead, what tends to happen when we enter the practice is that we become even more aware of what’s swirling around inside us. For people who’ve experienced traumas, this can be terrifying. Thoughts, emotions, and memories that are already troubling under normal circumstances can become overwhelming in the silent space that meditation opens.

The experience of trauma is characterized by intense fear that comes from a real or perceived direct threat to our survival. This kicks our nervous system into high gear and has a lasting psychological and emotional impact. After the initial event, trauma survivors often experience severe anxiety, intrusive thoughts, unpleasant physiological symptoms, emotional detachment, and unwanted flashbacks of the initial event. Without a proper foundation in place, meditation can amplify these experiences instead of alleviating them.

Here’s where that thing I said earlier about being a tour guide comes into play. It isn’t always safe to turn inward unaccompanied until we’ve done some work on being able to settle into ourselves. Research supports that meditation can be an integral part of the trauma healing process when accompanied or preceded by talk therapy or other forms of intentional interpersonal support. By consciously addressing the trauma, survivors learn how to revisit the traumatic event without become re-traumatized by it. They learn a variety of tools that help them cope with daily life and reestablish a sense of safety and security. While therapy isn’t a panacea for trauma, it provides a solid foundation that can be built upon and bolstered by practices like meditation.

Having had more than one traumatic experience in my own life, I can say that meditation is something I was able to adopt and embrace only after I did some conscious sorting out of my internal material. Through therapy and other more deliberate and directive healing modalities, I prepared myself to sit in silence, be present to my experience, and make direct contact with my thoughts and emotions. This is the space I aim to co-create and hold for my clients. Once they’ve walked through the pain and gotten familiar with the landscape, they can access the power and potential of meditation, cultivating serenity and taking their healing to new depths.

When we’ve done the work of acknowledging and addressing our traumas, meditation and mindfulness can help us get back into our bodies. These practices can serve as a profound form of empowerment, revealing to us the capacity we have for healing ourselves and learning to thrive again. They invite us to begin shining light over the parts of ourselves that were cast into darkness; they allow us to reclaim those parts and become whole again.

Serving as a means of retraining our brains and deepening our connection to ourselves, meditation offers significant benefits for anyone who’s experienced trauma. It helps us safely self-monitor, notice our thoughts, soothe ourselves, anchor our attention, breathe into discomfort, confidently encounter strong emotions, and securely inhabit our bodies and minds. Through a combination of therapy and meditation, I’ve seen countless clients move from victimhood to empowerment. I’ve seen chronic drug users who’d do anything to numb the pain release their attachments to substances and learn to comfortably live in their own skin. I’ve seen suffering transformed through the power of the practice, wielded by individuals who know they’re ready to turn the gaze inward.

Meditation holds the promise of opening our hearts and transmuting our pain into loving awareness and a deepened sense of compassion for ourselves and others. Through the practice, we learn to make space for the traumatic events we’ve endured and integrate them into our story. We learn to accommodate every aspect of that story. Because the truth is, our lives are richly complex experiences; they contain darkness as well as light, sorrow as well as joy. And when we learn to accept this fundamental truth, that life is everything, we can release our attachments and access our freedom.

It’s a Long and Winding Road

a train track with trees in the background.

I had a startling encounter with myself recently that came at an unexpected time, with unanticipated intensity. During a heated argument with someone I love, I found myself in dark yet familiar territory: The Shadow Land, as I’ve come to call it. This is a place I’ve known all my life—one that I decided years ago to travel far, far away from but that somehow has a way of calling me back from time to time. In the midst of this particularly painful exchange, I found myself there again and felt all those old emotions that I swore to myself (much more than once) I’d never feel again. I was out of my depth; I felt out of control. As the awful words tumbled out of my mouth and the dark emotions surged through me, I disconnected from the purest parts of myself and went completely into shadow mode. I didn’t like who I was being or where I was going in that moment, but I was compelled to keep spiraling deeper into it. What a painful experience. What an awful, well-worn path to tread. It’s tough to admit this—especially given the pressure placed on people in my position to act as if we’ve got it all together all the time— but if owning up to it makes any sort of contribution to anyone else’s process, it’s well worth it.

As someone doing the kind of work I do, I have the benefit of getting an insider’s view of the painful insecurities and disowned shadowy bits that plague most people. If we’re willing to look closely, all of us can find parts of ourselves we’re unwilling to own; parts of our stories we’re unwilling to forgive; parts of our lives we’re unwilling to accept. Some of us are at war with ourselves, unable to live comfortably in our own skin. Others—perhaps those who have ventured into the territory of healing and made the brave and radical decision to shine love and acceptance where there has been darkness—know the pain and disappointment of realizing that the work isn’t done. This was my experience as I found myself losing touch with my light. This is the experience of owning the unfortunate yet inevitable truth—that self-acceptance and self-love are a lifelong project.

We’re living in interesting times, where self-improvement is in style, and everywhere we look, someone’s offering a quick and easy solution to peace everlasting. But let’s be honest: human nature is more complex than we’ll ever understand, and the road to total self-acceptance is a long and winding one. Books, seminars, coaching, and therapy can give us direction and equip us with the tools we need to find our way; but Life, as always, remains in charge, finding myriad ways to put us in touch with the unacknowledged, unforgiven, disowned parts of ourselves. The dark matter, as it turns out, runs deep—and so does the work of shining our light there.

After spending some time battling my demons and forgetting everything I’ve ever known—or taught—about self-acceptance and self-love, I found my breath and allowed myself to re-align. I called upon my courage and committed to doing some exploring of everything that was unearthed when this person so close to me triggered something I had no idea was lurking beneath the surface. But first, I did some serious ugly crying, jotted some notes in my journal, gave myself a big hug, and got back to the business of living. Because this is what we self-helpers tend to gloss over: sometimes, we can’t just Namaste the pain away and bathe ourselves in blissful self-love. Sometimes, pulling ourselves together and wearily declaring a truce is all we can manage. The process, as I said, is a deep one, and the journey toward boundless self-love might be never-ending. So sometimes, the best we can do is stay with the process and sit with the pain of what hasn’t yet healed, trusting that shining the light of our awareness into the darkness is its own powerful form of progress.

It’s easy to fall into the trap of thinking that if only we read enough, meditate enough, go to enough yoga classes, or repeat enough mantras, we’ll be healed forever. I mean, how appealing is it to believe that we can free ourselves, once and for all, from the shackles of insecurity, self-doubt, and self-loathing? But the truth is, when we buy into the notion that the self-love project is one we can conquer swiftly and completely, we only add to our own suffering. Maybe instead, we can let ourselves settle into the lifelong journey and appreciate the process of learning as we go. Maybe we can brace ourselves for those dark nights of the soul, trusting that they’ll usually wind up being the greatest contributions to our growth.

Listen, I’ll be the first to tell you: personal development work is not for the faint of heart. It’s gruesome to face down the self-limiting beliefs and unresolved emotional drama living inside us. But despite what any late-night infomercial or well-funded Facebook ad might try to sell you on, it’s the only way transformation can happen. We’ve got to face it and feel it to heal it; and we’ve got to be ready for the lifelong project of self-growth, self-love, self-acceptance, and self-improvement. But though the journey is long and the work deep, I, for one, take great comfort in knowing that we’re in this together. All of us breathing and learning and healing and growing, side by side—all of us contributing to and gaining from one another’s beautiful journeys.

Ask a Therapist: How Do I Mend a Broken Relationship?

a close up of two people holding hands.

In this edition of Ask a Therapist, I’m addressing a question I get asked pretty often: How do I mend a broken relationship? Of course, every relationship and circumstance is different; but there are some general considerations that can support the repair process. Whether you’re looking to re-open lines of communication with someone, re-establish trust with your significant other, or mend the rifts in a meaningful relationship, here are a few things to keep in mind.

1) Spend some time reflecting about what happened. This is a crucial step in the repair process, because it’s important to get clear about what happened and how you contributed to it. In the heat of the moment, it can be hard to comprehend what’s happening; and in the aftermath, it’s easy to focus on your hurt feelings and what the other person did to cause them. Before you make any effort to repair the relationship, give some thought to what took place, and see the part you played in it. Look also at how you interpreted the situation, what hurt you most about what happened, what you would have wanted to play out differently, and what you could have done differently to create that outcome. Having a clear, centered, and non-blaming perspective will support you greatly in your repair efforts.

2) Give some thought to what you really want from the relationship. It’s uncomfortable, and often painful, to be at odds with someone you care about; but before you rush to make things better, reflect on your intentions. Be clear and honest with yourself about whether and why you want the other person in your life. And here’s a really important part: be sure you want to move forward with this person as he or she actually is, not as you would prefer for him or her to be. This step is all about being honest with yourself and, in some cases, being willing to consider that the relationship may not be worth salvaging. Skipping this step could lead to resentments down the road, so take your time with it. Think carefully about what the relationship means to you and what role you can see it playing in your life moving forward

3) Approach the initial conversation with sincere openness. If you’ve completed the first two steps and still want to move forward in the repair process, the next step is reaching out and inviting the other person into a conversation. Let him or her know that you’ve been reflecting on the relationship and the way things occurred between you, and you’d like to work on repairing it. Understand that he or she might not be ready or willing to talk. And that’s okay. The time may not be right now, but that doesn’t mean repair will never happen. Give it time, have faith, and be open to the possibility of the conversation happening in the future.

4) Communicate mindfully. If you reach out to the other person and he or she is willing to talk, prepare to approach the conversation mindfully. Make sure you’re focused and centered, attending to your breath and staying present and connected throughout the dialogue. Be willing to see things from another perspective, and listen to the other person without defending yourself. When it’s your turn to speak, focus on your experience without placing blame on the other person. Be honest and open, keeping in mind—especially during the more difficult parts of the conversation—that your primary intention is to reconnect, repair, and move forward.

5) Establish boundaries as needed. Sometimes it’s important to have a conversation about boundaries before moving forward in a relationship. This can be a difficult subject to broach, but it’s important to do it so that similar transgressions don’t occur in the future. If your personal boundaries were violated in the relationship, be sure to speak up about it and clearly express what you need moving forward. This is a challenging but crucial step in the process, as it involves truly working on repair instead of simply glossing over what happened and rushing to make things right again. Be willing to speak up, but remember not to reject your understanding and compassion in order to do it!

6) Give yourself credit, and be grateful. Nobody’s perfect, and no relationship is perfect either. Open communication, mutual respect, compassionate understanding, and willingness to forgive are all part of the process—and that process isn’t easy! So give yourself credit for doing the work; and give the other person credit, too. Express gratitude for him or her, and acknowledge your mutual decision to heal and grow together. This is a beautiful way to honor the repair process and build on your relationship, offering it the potential to grow stronger and more fulfilling for both of you.

Let It Hurt, Let It Heal

a large wave is breaking in the ocean.

On any given day in the US, nearly 700,000 prescriptions are dispensed for pain medications. If this number seems staggering to you, that’s because it is—especially when you consider that rates of opioid addiction and overdose in this country are at an all-time high. What can start as a pill here or there to manage pain can quickly unravel into a debilitating dependence. We don’t tend to (or want to) think about it this way, but many of the people who die from heroin overdoses started out in a doctor’s office. We’ve got a troubling epidemic on our hands in this country, and for the last several years of my career, I’ve been on its harrowing front lines.

I’ve worked with many people suffering from addiction to opioids and other substances; and while I treat each of my clients according to their unique circumstances, I often find that my conversations with them venture into familiar territory. One of the topics that comes up most often when I speak to these clients is a common one that also comes up when I speak to my other, non-addicted clients. That’s because it’s a topic that relates much more to the human experience in general than to the unique experience of becoming an addict.

The topic I’m referring to is pain. Not just physical pain, of course. I’m talking about the pain of everyday living. From momentary sadness to crippling regret; from a broken heart after a breakup to the devastating loss of a close companion. No matter who you are, no matter how fortunate you’ve been, pain is (or surely will be) part of your reality. And the truth is, your mental health and overall capacity to function in your life depend critically on your ability to effectively manage it. When I see the overwhelming numbers of people losing their lives and their loved ones to addiction every day in this country, I can’t help but think about how different things might be if we could all learn more adaptive ways to manage discomfort and cope with the tough stuff. People are suffering—and far too many of them are doing so in an effort to avoid feeling pain.

Though not everyone turns to substances, we all have ways of seeking to numb ourselves and avoid facing the parts of life that feel uncomfortable and unpleasant. We overeat, oversleep, overwork, or otherwise disconnect from our experience in the moment. And, in some ways, this makes sense. Pain avoidance is woven into the fabric of what makes us human, so it’s only natural that we look for ways to make ourselves feel better whenever pain arises. The problem is, instant gratification and immediate relief are terrible long-term strategies. They serve to lower our tolerance to pain so that we’re less equipped (and more afraid) to manage it the next time it comes up. It’s no wonder our society is more obese, addicted, and depressed than ever before. Our efforts to tune out and feel good in the moment only end up harming us in the long-run.

Life transforms dramatically when we learn to let ourselves feel pain. Trust me; I make a living helping people through this process. Many people spend their lives developing strategies—both consciously and unconsciously—to resist and avoid pain. But this is the worst thing we can do with painful emotions once they’ve arisen. The resistance only serves to strengthen the pain, making it harder for us to move through it. Think about how difficult it is to swim upstream. When you resist the current and try to move in the opposite direction of where it’s flowing, you make the journey to your destination much more difficult. You get stuck. You wear yourself out from the effort. When, however, you move in the direction of the current—going with what’s already flowing—you move much more swiftly. This is the way it works with our emotions, too. Though we’re naturally inclined to resist feeling painful emotions like anger, sadness, regret, or loneliness, we can move through them much more quickly and easily when we allow ourselves to feel them—going with the current, so to speak—than when we resist.

Our society compels us to believe that we should always turn that frown upside-down or find the silver lining on every dark cloud. But the truth is, life is as much about the difficulties as it is about the triumphs—as much about the happy feelings as the painful ones. Pain takes on a whole new meaning when we can learn to greet it and keep it company. Once we learn to let it hurt, we’ve taken the first step to letting it heal.

If something hurts for a while, or you experience difficult emotions every time you think about a particular part of your life, it doesn’t mean something’s wrong. Hurting is part of healing, and sometimes the healing process takes longer than we’d want or expect it to. If you find yourself stuck in this process and unsure how to manage it on your own, know that support is available to you. I sometimes think of myself as a tour guide or compassionate companion along the journey through pain; I’d be honored to keep you company. But whether or not you work with someone through this process or go it alone, trust that your efforts to make contact with your pain will lead you down the path toward healing. And not only will you heal, you’ll also strengthen your ability to face life courageously and open-heartedly, knowing you can handle whatever comes your way.

If we choose to see it this way, being in pain can serve as an opportunity for us to be with ourselves, slowing down and tuning in to our experience so we can move through it as gracefully as possible, learning what’s there for us to learn along the way. I invite you to begin the process of letting your painful emotions come and go; allow yourself to flow through them, supported by the knowledge that they will pass, so long as you let them.

Fanning the Flames of Anger

She was mad. No, not just mad; she was enraged. She’d walked into my office for the first time just 20 minutes before, and shortly after launching into her story about why she’d sought therapy, her anger reached its boiling point. She was seething. After finishing a particularly pointed sentence about how furious she was over her husband’s “stupidity,” she looked up to find that I was sitting with my hands folded in my lap, breathing peacefully and looking at her with compassionate interest as she shared her story with me. Upon seeing my expression and posture, she became even more angered and said, quite passionately, “Ughhh! Seeing you sitting there so calm like that just pisses me off even more. It’s exactly what my husband does when I’m yelling at him. It’s like he doesn’t even care that he hurt me.” I gently stopped her then and asked if she could remember and repeat the last three words she’d just said.

“He hurt me.”

As soon as the words left her mouth, her eyes welled up with tears. Her rigid posture softened, and her once tense shoulders slumped down. She leaned forward with her hands in her lap and cried quietly, allowing herself to express the new set of emotions that my question had invited. Then, suddenly, she began to laugh. She looked at me with smiling eyes and tear-stained cheeks and said, “Damnit! It’s so much easier to be mad than sad.”

It is, isn’t it?

Anger is a normal human emotion. Like fear, it’s typically a response to some stimulus in the environment that activates our nervous system and triggers a fight or flight reaction. Whereas fear tends to invoke a flight response, anger gets us into fight mode. It creates a surge of activating energy that’s sometimes accompanied by a motivation to act out on the emotion and somehow discharge it. In this way, anger is energizing and emboldening.  In the English language, words such as “fiery,” “hot,” and “burning” are used to describe it, evoking a sensation of heat that is often associated with the emotion. If you’ve ever been overcome with anger—the way my client started out when she arrived to our first session—you know how intense the scorching flames can be.

Contrary to what some psychotherapists will tell you, anger is a legitimate emotion. It’s not, as some would argue, a cover-up for fear and sadness. It’s important to understand this distinction, because acknowledging what we’re feeling and accepting its legitimacy is an important part of managing, relieving, and overcoming it. I didn’t tell my client she shouldn’t be angry, nor did I ask her to tell me what was beneath or behind all that anger. Instead, I kept her company while the emotion surged through her, making space for it and remaining curious about her experience with it. That’s because I understand that as with any emotion, the first step to letting anger pass is acknowledging its presence.

According to the teaching of the Buddha, “Holding on to anger is like grasping a hot coal with the intent of throwing it at someone else; you are the one who gets burned.” Because the heat of anger has such an activating effect on us, we can easily become consumed by it. It can erupt in an aggressive outburst or spawn a desire to get revenge. But as the Buddha so wisely pointed out, whenever we hold on to the emotion with the intent of using it to cause others pain, we’re the ones who wind up hurting the most.

The trouble with anger isn’t the anger itself; it’s the automatic assumption that just because we feel it, we have to do something about it. Simply allowing the emotion to pass through, without attaching to it or acting out because of it, gives way to a process that can teach us a lot about ourselves. You see, although anger is more than just a secondary emotion, it usually doesn’t operate alone. As my client discovered, anger is typically associated with other emotions. If we can sit with it long enough for the flames to die down, what we’ll likely discover is a host of accompanying emotions like sadness, frustration, humiliation, disappointment, and fear. What my client realized was that she wasn’t just angry at her husband; she was also feeling hurt by him. The anger, as she explained, was easier to feel. So long as she was charged up with rage, she didn’t have to experience the vulnerability that comes with feeling hurt. But once she made her way through the complex emotions she was experiencing, she was able to get some clarity about her situation. By the time she left my office, she had a better understanding of what happened in the encounter with her husband and what she wanted to do about it.

Anger can teach us a lot about ourselves. It can help us gain access to places inside of us where we otherwise might not travel. If my client had ignored her anger or simply acted upon the impulse to lash out at her husband, she likely wouldn’t have accessed the hurt and sadness underneath it. It was through the process of being with and peeling back the many layers of her emotional experience that she came to a sense of clarity and resolution. Had she dismissed her anger, this process would have been cut short, failing to yield any useful understanding or awareness; had she exploded because of it, she wouldn’t have learned much and might have acted in ways she’d later regret. If we let it, anger can become the source of deep self-awareness and exploration.

In his book entitled Anger, Vietnamese Buddhist monk Thich Nhat Hanh offers the following perspective: “Embrace your anger with a lot of tenderness. Your anger is not your enemy, your anger is your baby. It’s like your stomach or your lungs. Every time you have some trouble in your lungs or your stomach, you don’t think of throwing them away. The same is true with your anger. You accept your anger because you know you can take care of it; you can transform it into positive energy.”

Every emotion we feel is an opportunity to become better acquainted with our inner world. And it’s through this self-understanding that we learn how to navigate life’s challenges, guiding ourselves with the wisdom of our own experiences. What if the next time you felt angry you embraced it? What if instead of dismissing or discharging the anger you listened to it?  What might you learn about yourself? What might you discover?

 

 

Don’t Take Anything Personally

two seagulls are flying in the sky together.

In just a few days, I’ll have the distinct pleasure of hearing one of my favorite authors speak in an intimate setting. For me, this is the equivalent of going to a sold-out rock concert or the premier of a blockbuster movie. It’s a really big deal. The author I’m referring to, don Miguel Ruiz, is best known for sharing transformational insights from the ancient Toltec tradition. The most famous of his books, The Four Agreements, is an international bestseller. The wisdom contained within it is, at once, approachable and profound. It has changed many lives—including my own.

As the title of the book suggests, The Four Agreements describes four contracts we can make with ourselves to become free from the many self-limiting beliefs we’ve been conditioned to hold on to, which cause much of our suffering. While all of the agreements in the book have the potential to radically change the way we view ourselves, others, and life in general, there’s one in particular that’s been on my mind quite a bit lately. It’s the second agreement: Don’t Take Things Personally.

When I first read The Four Agreements, I was struck by the simple language Ruiz uses to describe a life-changing concept. Here’s a particularly compelling excerpt from that section in the book:

“Whatever happens around you, don’t take it personally… Nothing other people do is because of you. It is because of themselves. All people live in their own dream, in their own mind; they are in a completely different world from the one we live in. When we take something personally, we make the assumption that they know what is in our world, and we try to impose our world on their world.”

Wow! Pretty powerful stuff, isn’t it?

I was deeply moved upon first reading these words, and I continue to be struck by their significance today. The many years I’ve spent working with all kinds of people in therapy have shown me that everyone has, at one time or another, been wounded by the opinions, words, and actions of other people. Their interactions with other others have resulted in pain and rejection, and many of them have become fearful as a result. They shut down, avoid intimacy, lash out, or become consumed by thoughts about how other people feel about them. Every one of us has some experience with taking things personally and experiencing real pain as a result. So Ruiz’s declaration that we can free ourselves of these binds is remarkably good news.

The Toltec wisdom contained in the second agreement has been around for centuries, and many famous philosophers and psychologists have written about it and developed theories based on its central premise. In truth, we are all living our own personal realities, which are shaped by our thoughts, emotions, beliefs, culture, mood, upbringing, and experiences. We go through the world as if we are the producer, director, screenwriter, and star of our own personal movie, and we expect everyone we encounter—the other actors, bit players, and extras—to know their lines. When they don’t follow the script, we suffer. But, you see, everyone else in the world is living their own movie. Everyone else is living their own reality—or, as don Miguel Ruiz would put it, their own dream. They don’t know their lines in the script for our movie, just as we don’t know our lines in theirs. When we take this personally, we suffer unnecessarily, because it was never about us to begin with.

In the section of The Four Agreements about not taking things personally, Ruiz goes on to say:

“As you make a habit of not taking anything personally, you won’t need to place your trust in what others do or say. You will only need to trust yourself to make responsible choices. You are never responsible for the actions of others; you are only responsible for you. When you truly understand this, and refuse to take things personally, you can hardly be hurt by the careless comments or actions of others.”

These are words we can all begin to live by, and benefit tremendously from doing so. They can help us to understand a very important truth: that everything we think, say, and do is not a reflection of reality, but a reflection of ourselves. Therefore, it’s also true that everything other people think, say, and do is not a reflection of us, but a reflection of themselves. This shift in understanding creates the potential for a much freer existence fraught with far less suffering.

I can’t wait to have the invaluable opportunity to sit in don Miguel Ruiz’s presence as he imparts more wisdom that I can adopt in my own life and share with my clients and readers. If you’re interested in reading more about the second agreement and getting familiar with the other three agreements outlined in the book, I highly recommend that you get a copy of The Four Agreements. It’s an easy read, a true page turner! And, for those of you in South Florida who are interested in joining me to hear Ruiz speak along with his son, don Miguel Ruiz, Jr., check out the information below and click the link to purchase your ticket.

Until next time!

 

 

To Love With the Freedom of Life: An Evening of Toltec Wisdom

don Miguel Ruiz Sr. & don Miguel Ruiz Jr.

Friday, May 6th at 6:00 p.m.

Unity on The Bay – Miami, FL

https://tickets.brightstarevents.com/event/ruin-unity-on-the-bay

 

You’ve Got To Feel It To Heal It

a woman holding a pink rose in her hands.

It makes me happy when clients come to session in the midst of emotional discomfort.

Now, I know what you must be thinking, so please allow me to explain. No, I’m not a sadist. I don’t take pleasure in my clients’ pain. But I do know an opportunity for healing when I see one.

What I mean is this: When it comes to emotional pain, most of the efforts people make to stop feeling it end up having the opposite effect. The more they try to numb or escape the emotion, the more they end up suffering. This numbing can come in various forms. For some people it’s drugs and alcohol, for others it’s work. Some people dive into relationships to escape unpleasant feelings, others dive into chocolate cake and ice cream. While some of these approaches are more dangerous than others, they all have the same underlying motivation: to avoid, suppress, distort, or deny whatever’s going on inside. We all have our own methods for doing this, and we can all likely agree that even if they seem to work a little at first, the relief doesn’t last. It’s like putting a Band-Aid on a deep wound—some of the surface gets covered, but the real affliction remains untreated.

The reason I get happy when clients come in feeling bad is that I know they’re in the perfect position to heal themselves. That’s because when it comes to the emotional stuff, you’ve got to feel it to heal it. This might seem like unfortunate news—after all, who wants to make direct contact with something that feels so awful? But you need to know that it isn’t all bad. You see, what you’ll come to find when you begin to practice healing through feeling is that you start to feel better much sooner than when you attempt to numb and avoid. Ever heard the expression what we resist persists? Well, it applies perfectly here. Whenever we try not to feel what we’re feeling, whenever we try to push out the pain, we end up getting even more tangled up in it. We add an extra layer of suffering to something that’s already agonizing.

When my clients sit across from me in a state of emotional distress, I have them start by inviting their pain to the proverbial table and asking it to have a seat. This begins the process of keeping company with the emotion. It also begins the process of relieving the pain. Next, I have them identify the emotion as specifically as possible. This is based on research that shows people who are able to identify their emotions and distinguish one from the other are more effective at coping with them. I have my clients track the physical manifestations of the emotional pain throughout their bodies. They might find that nervousness feels like a tightening in the chest or sadness feels like heaviness in the shoulders. Getting in touch with the embodied aspects of the pain furthers the process of addressing and healing it. The rest of the work is a deliberate and compassionate practice of making room for the emotion, learning from it, and trusting that it will pass. It always does.

If therapy or any form of self-work is to be effective, it has to go directly to the source. We have to be willing to go inward and visit the places we don’t want to go. We have to learn how to keep company with all of our emotions, not just the ones we like to feel. We have to make a practice of tuning into our internal experience and asking ourselves the difficult question: What am I trying to keep myself from feeling?

When you feel bad it’s natural to want to feel better; but once you start practicing this stuff, you’ll never again want to settle for feeling better when you know you can actually get better. You are capable, and you are worth it.