Virtually any concern can be addressed in either individual or couples psychotherapy. But when the quality of a person's life is undermined by emotional distress, chronic dissatisfaction, or confusion about which way to go, individual therapy is usually the modality of choice. Private sessions allow sufficient time to know the whole person, to understand symptoms in the context of relevant life experiences—past and present—and to discover the dreams and strengths that promote healing. Apart from sexual problems, which I discuss on the Sex Therapy page, six areas of concern stand out among the individuals I see in my practice:
- fear and anxiety
- depression and other mood problems
- grief and loss
- chemical dependency
- low self-esteem and self-sabotage
- searching for connection
I begin with a summary of the key features and possible solutions for each type of problem, including links to additional information. Feel free to scroll past any topics that don't interest you. Further down this page I discuss some of the theories, values, and methods that have shaped the therapist I am today.
Fear and Anxiety
Our instinctual fight-or-flight response to threat and danger—a primitive combination of fear and aggression that we share with other animals—has played a crucial role in our survival as a species. I say "has played" because these reactions, while still needed at times, now hurt us far more than they help. Because our large brains give us language and abstract thinking, we can contemplate, in exquisite detail, every imaginable catastrophe to the point where our bodies respond as if these horrors are actually happening.
The most basic form of fear is worry and it, too, has survival value. By anticipating dangers we can prepare for them. That's why moms are noted for worrying about their kids. But anyone can quickly come up with endless things to worry about, if inclined to do so. Garden variety worrying isn't particularly damaging, but too much of it limits our availability for good feelings. When it gets out of hand, worry can evolve into chronic dread or unease called generalized anxiety, in which the body's fight-or-flight circuits rarely turn off completely. When we're anxious it's difficult to concentrate; we're distracted and can't think straight. Anxiety also keeps our bodies churned up, making us vulnerable to physical symptoms, especially in personal "tension zones" such as the neck, shoulders, back, or digestive system.
Fear can attach itself to a specific situation or object, resulting in a phobia. Some phobias actually help contain anxiety when they're directed at something we can easily avoid, such as snakes. Others can only be avoided by a dramatic contraction of one's life. Fear of driving, heights, tight spaces, can have this effect. Social phobia (fear of judged by others, especially strangers) and agoraphobia (fear of public spaces) can be particularly debilitating.
Fear can attach itself to a specific situation or object, resulting in a phobia. Some phobias actually help contain anxiety when they're directed at something we can easily avoid, such as snakes. Others can only be avoided by a dramatic contraction of one's life. Fear of driving, heights, tight spaces, can have this effect. Social phobia (fear of judged by others, especially strangers) and agoraphobia (fear of public spaces) can be particularly debilitating.
The most acute form of fear is panic, in which the body's fight-or-flight responses go into hyper drive, often for no apparent reason. If you've ever had a panic attack, you know how overwhelming they are. Usually, panic includes the conviction that one is dying or going crazy and can lead to an emergency room visit. This happened to me once when I thought I was having a heart attack. The attending physician told me that at least half of his "heart attack" patients were actually having panic, just like me.
Regular experiences of comfort and security in our early lives don't eliminate fear, but they may increase our ability to reassure and sooth ourselves, which helps a lot. Conversely, if life has felt unsafe from the start, we're at a distinct disadvantage. Especially fearful events such a serious illness, loss, abandonment, or other traumas make us acutely aware of our vulnerabilities. Major life changes, good or bad, can highlight the fundamental instability of existence and shake us to the core. But sometimes fear is only about itself, an unwelcome remnant of our species' ancient struggle to survive.
Minor tranquilizers, mostly benzodiazepines (e.g., valium, xanax, or ativan) can temporarily calm anxieties, but have a potential for dependency if people raise their doses to maintain the same effect. These drugs work best on an as-needed basis. Predictable anxieties caused by situations like public speaking or test-taking often respond well to the occasional use of a blood pressure medication called a beta-blocker, which counteracts fight-or-flight body reactions, while leaving us clear-headed and a little revved up, as we should be at such times. Certain anti-depressants can help keep generalized anxiety and panic somewhat under under control.
Exercise is extremely beneficial for all forms of fear, especially when combined with any regular relaxation practice such as meditation or progressive relaxation (deep, slow breathing combined with tensing and relaxing of each muscle group of the body). Many anxious people hate relaxation exercises because they become even more aware of how fearful the really are. Paradoxically, focusing attention on the thoughts and sensations we'd most like to avoid can be enormously helpful. Cultivating the ability to observe ourselves with a non-judgmental attitude is called mindfulness, and it can transform a living hell into a manageable inconvenience. I'll have much more to say about mindfulness as we move along.
Depression and Other Mood Problems
According to he World Health Organization, depression is one of the leading causes of disability and lost productivity around the world and it's easy to see why. An episode of major depression dramatically impairs one's ability to function. Even for those who remain productive, living is gray and burdensome. Sleeping, eating, and sex tend to change—usually for the worse. The future looks bleak. Energy, motivation, and hope give way to helplessness and despair.
Regular experiences of comfort and security in our early lives don't eliminate fear, but they may increase our ability to reassure and sooth ourselves, which helps a lot. Conversely, if life has felt unsafe from the start, we're at a distinct disadvantage. Especially fearful events such a serious illness, loss, abandonment, or other traumas make us acutely aware of our vulnerabilities. Major life changes, good or bad, can highlight the fundamental instability of existence and shake us to the core. But sometimes fear is only about itself, an unwelcome remnant of our species' ancient struggle to survive.
Minor tranquilizers, mostly benzodiazepines (e.g., valium, xanax, or ativan) can temporarily calm anxieties, but have a potential for dependency if people raise their doses to maintain the same effect. These drugs work best on an as-needed basis. Predictable anxieties caused by situations like public speaking or test-taking often respond well to the occasional use of a blood pressure medication called a beta-blocker, which counteracts fight-or-flight body reactions, while leaving us clear-headed and a little revved up, as we should be at such times. Certain anti-depressants can help keep generalized anxiety and panic somewhat under under control.
Exercise is extremely beneficial for all forms of fear, especially when combined with any regular relaxation practice such as meditation or progressive relaxation (deep, slow breathing combined with tensing and relaxing of each muscle group of the body). Many anxious people hate relaxation exercises because they become even more aware of how fearful the really are. Paradoxically, focusing attention on the thoughts and sensations we'd most like to avoid can be enormously helpful. Cultivating the ability to observe ourselves with a non-judgmental attitude is called mindfulness, and it can transform a living hell into a manageable inconvenience. I'll have much more to say about mindfulness as we move along.
Depression and Other Mood Problems
According to he World Health Organization, depression is one of the leading causes of disability and lost productivity around the world and it's easy to see why. An episode of major depression dramatically impairs one's ability to function. Even for those who remain productive, living is gray and burdensome. Sleeping, eating, and sex tend to change—usually for the worse. The future looks bleak. Energy, motivation, and hope give way to helplessness and despair.
Depression is usually associated with sadness, self-criticism, and withdrawal. But some depressed people are agitated, irritable, angry, or even abusive. People like this usually don't seem depressed, just difficult to deal with. And they often don't think of themselves as depressed either, although deep inside they know they're very unhappy.
A major depression lasts at least two weeks, but often persists much longer. When it goes on for two years or more it's called dysthymia, which is often mistakenly referred to as "low grade" depression. Dysthymia may not look or feel as acute as major depression, but in most respects it's identical, just more unrelenting. Some people with dysthymia have have felt down for as long as they can remember. They have their own range of moods, of course, but feeling bad has become a personality trait.
A major depression lasts at least two weeks, but often persists much longer. When it goes on for two years or more it's called dysthymia, which is often mistakenly referred to as "low grade" depression. Dysthymia may not look or feel as acute as major depression, but in most respects it's identical, just more unrelenting. Some people with dysthymia have have felt down for as long as they can remember. They have their own range of moods, of course, but feeling bad has become a personality trait.
When a depression lifts, most sufferers feel a tremendous relief and begin to act like themselves again. For some, the nightmare will be over, either for good, or for quite a long time. But for others, a bad bout of depression can set them up for future episodes. There seem to be two main reasons for this unwelcome fact: (1) depression changes how the brain processes the neurotransmitters involved in mood, and (2) normal sad or blue feelings that might have been short-lived before, now set off a tidal wave of negative thoughts—often called ruminations—developed during previous episodes. Those who've been through recurring episodes often live in dread of the next plunge.
Some episodes of depression are clearly about something—e.g., loneliness, a specific loss, disappointment, or rejection. But some depressions seem to have a life of their own and even occur when everything is going well. Depression runs in families, so there's probably a genetic susceptibility involved. Depression also has a "contagious" quality to it. Being around a depressed person is depressing because everyone feels so helpless and helplessness breeds more depression. This is why partners of depressed people often sink into depression themselves.
The dramatic mood-swings seen in classic manic-depression are relatively rare. These days, bi-polar disorders are viewed on a continuum, ranging from fairly mild to more severe. Even relatively subtle mood fluctuations, if they occur frequently enough, can cause enough emotional instability to impact one's work, relationships, and overall well-being. In psychiatry, however, the increasing use of mood stabilizer medications for a wide range of problems has lead to an unhelpful, faddish over-use of the bi-polar diagnosis.
Some episodes of depression are clearly about something—e.g., loneliness, a specific loss, disappointment, or rejection. But some depressions seem to have a life of their own and even occur when everything is going well. Depression runs in families, so there's probably a genetic susceptibility involved. Depression also has a "contagious" quality to it. Being around a depressed person is depressing because everyone feels so helpless and helplessness breeds more depression. This is why partners of depressed people often sink into depression themselves.
The dramatic mood-swings seen in classic manic-depression are relatively rare. These days, bi-polar disorders are viewed on a continuum, ranging from fairly mild to more severe. Even relatively subtle mood fluctuations, if they occur frequently enough, can cause enough emotional instability to impact one's work, relationships, and overall well-being. In psychiatry, however, the increasing use of mood stabilizer medications for a wide range of problems has lead to an unhelpful, faddish over-use of the bi-polar diagnosis.
While anti-depressants can be almost miraculous for some, the process of finding one that works, with minimal or tolerable side-effects, can be time-consuming and frustrating. Benefits fall far short of the exaggerated bliss depicted in TV ads for these drugs. Now among the most widely used of all drugs, recent studies suggest that anti-depressants may be way over-prescribed.
Psychotherapy can make a big difference, with or without medications, especially when it helps depression-prone people to become attuned to the first signs of trouble—such as heavy or other strange body sensations, negative or self-critical thoughts, or despairing emotions. These self-observations can serve as "alarms," reminding them to look closer at what's bothering them in the moment, before destructive ruminations take hold. Verbalizing early signs of depression is much more effective than just thinking about them, because it's so easy to slip into ruminating without even noticing.
For those already stuck in a pit of depression, it's crucial to recognize that we all make many choices every day affecting our moods. Since depression both causes and is caused by helplessness, almost any consciously-chosen action—such as telling someone how we truly feel, asking for help, or even going for a walk—is an important step in the right direction.
Psychotherapy can make a big difference, with or without medications, especially when it helps depression-prone people to become attuned to the first signs of trouble—such as heavy or other strange body sensations, negative or self-critical thoughts, or despairing emotions. These self-observations can serve as "alarms," reminding them to look closer at what's bothering them in the moment, before destructive ruminations take hold. Verbalizing early signs of depression is much more effective than just thinking about them, because it's so easy to slip into ruminating without even noticing.
For those already stuck in a pit of depression, it's crucial to recognize that we all make many choices every day affecting our moods. Since depression both causes and is caused by helplessness, almost any consciously-chosen action—such as telling someone how we truly feel, asking for help, or even going for a walk—is an important step in the right direction.
Grief and Loss
Loss of loved ones, money and possessions, physical abilities, social status, self-esteem, dreams and hopes—and eventually everything—is an integral part of living that most of us would prefer to skip. Alas, the universe forgot to consult us about this. Grief is the natural response to loss and, although it's not fun, it is by far the best option we've got.
Grief shares many features with depression—sadness, emptiness, visions of a bleak future, and loss of meaning and motivation—but they're fundamentally different. Whereas depression is life-deadening, grief (if we let ourselves have it) is life-affirming because it arises from attachment and caring. Despite this fundamental difference, grief and depression are often intertwined. It's true that some depressions occur out-of-the-blue, but most are triggered by a current loss or unresolved ones from the past. An important feature of loss is that each one tends to re-open previous ones. Not realizing the interconnections between all losses can leave a person dumbfounded as to why they're reacting so strongly to a relatively minor one.
The biggest problem with grief is that we're taught to deny it, or at least to get over it quickly. The admonition to "move on with life" robs grievers of the time they need and, therefore, leaves them even more vulnerable to depression. Rushed or denied grief can also make a person reluctant to care too deeply again—a sad recipe for a joyless existence. I once saw a woman who loved animals. She had worked in a shelter and had loved and lost many pets. Eventually she became so fearful of loss that she vowed never to have a pet again. Not knowing how to grieve, her only choice was to deprive herself of the special connections that helped make her life worth living. She didn't tell me about this until we'd been working together for months, without success, on her depression. With this revelation, the course of our work shifted dramatically. As she allowed her grief—and her tears—to well up and flow, she became noticeably lighter and, before too long, started reminiscing about her wonderful times with animals.
Chemical Dependency
We humans—some more than others—like to get high. After all, we have inhibitions to overcome, moods to escape, anxieties and hurts to soothe, fantasies and dreams to promote, adventures to instigate, and possibilities to discover. For all these worthy causes, chemicals can be the quickest and easiest tools at hand. Troubles begin when our chosen substances prove to be insufficient or lose their effectiveness. Inevitably, higher and more frequent doses bring unwelcome consequences. Sooner or later, many people notice that the cost-benefit ratio isn't looking so good and make necessary adjustments.
For complex reasons not fully understood, many equally smart people in the same situation choose more of the same, and then still more. The vast majority realize deep inside that they've got a problem; they're not in complete denial as popular thinking has it. It's more like pretending not to see, combined with a fear of change. Serious chemical dependencies or addictions (these terms have no agreed-upon definitions) can strike quickly or sneak up gradually. But once a person is under their spell, the motivation to use is increasingly about not feeling bad. By this point, one's intentions seem to count for nothing, and outside pressures—from loved ones, employers, the legal system, or some other major wakeup call—are usually required to force the issue. See the Resources page for various approaches to recovery.
Early on in therapy I always ask about the substances in a person's life, but the urge to downplay their importance can be intense. Even those who readily acknowledge a problem, often declare outright their unwillingness to do anything about it. For some therapists, this is a deal breaker, but not for me. Meeting a person where they are is my job. But one thing I won't do is acquiesce to silence on any significant topic (but a good sense of timing helps). Refusing to act can actually be a step on the way toward recovery when it's a crude statement of autonomy and choice. But refusing to talk about it is a waste of everyone's time.
Low Self-Esteem and Self-Sabotage
While it's true that evolution has programmed us to survive and thrive, a variety of life experiences can override these genetic instructions and turn us against ourselves, sometimes mercilessly. Early mistreatment or neglect by primary caregivers is the most obvious way that anti-self patterns get started. The drama unfolds something like this:
Since we're completely dependant as infants and small children, parental figures are gods. If they neglect or mistreat us, we have no way of thinking, "I don't deserve this; you guys are messed up!" Instead, we internalize mistreatment as our fate. As we develop language, these raw emotional lessons coalesce into negative core beliefs about our worth, how we should be treated, what we can expect from others, and our place in the world. More often than not, our core beliefs will become the lens through which we'll perceive and interpret experiences well into the future.
Luckily, better treatment from the same people or others may set up competing positive beliefs. It's tempting to conclude that how we feel about ourselves is determined by the relative strength of positive and negative experiences. But reality is much more complicated. Some horribly treated people, even victims of severe abuse, find ways to affirm themselves in spite of everything. Others who appear to be showered with love and good fortune become their own worst enemies. There's no way to adequately explain such differences.
One thing to consider is that perfectionism, even when combined with love, can set us up for feeling inadequate, no matter what we do. Theodore Rubin wrote an insightful book entitled, Compassion and Self-Hate (see the Resources page), in which he asserts that thinking we're special—especially bad or especially good—can sow the seeds of self-criticism.
One thing to consider is that perfectionism, even when combined with love, can set us up for feeling inadequate, no matter what we do. Theodore Rubin wrote an insightful book entitled, Compassion and Self-Hate (see the Resources page), in which he asserts that thinking we're special—especially bad or especially good—can sow the seeds of self-criticism.
Anti-self feelings and impulses not strong enough to be called self-hate, are commonly known as low self-esteem, which usually manifests as a chronic sense of unworthiness, especially when it comes to finding success or receiving love. Feelings of inadequacy can also focus on disliking (or hating) one's body. Needless to say, body inadequacy is both exploited and created by advertisers to help sell their solutions. Women are affected most but men, too, are succumbing to impossible standards of attractiveness, and suffering greatly as a result.
Because we're social creatures, self-esteem is profoundly influenced by our peers. Those who are different in any way may be ruthlessly harassed, way beyond the inevitable teasing that most kids endure. But even those who avoid abusive teasing, still absorb the norms of their group and may learn to abuse themselves secretly in their own minds. With the growing importance of sexuality in adolescence, perceived sexual differences become great sources of concern. For example, those who are or will become gay or lesbian, or whose sense of masculinity or femininity doesn't conform to expectations, are especially prone to turn against themselves. Long after a person rejects the ideals and norms that have caused so much hurt, the visceral sting can persist. Logic is no match for deeply-held emotional convictions. This is why even out-and-proud gays and lesbians still have to deal with the insidious effects of internalized homophobia from time to time.
Many who feel unworthy still manage to do well, perhaps allowing themselves to thrive in certain spheres of life while sabotaging themselves in other areas. Of course, some people feel "less than" across the board and can't quite imagine it any other way.
If we rated how we feel about ourselves on a continuum, self-hate would go on one end of the spectrum, but would self-love be on the other end? Maybe, but "self-love" can mean an over-inflated sense of one's worth compared to others, more narcissistic than loving. To me, the opposite of self-hate is actually self-acceptance. I've never seen a negative form of self-acceptance, except when it's misinterpreted to mean resignation.
Because we're social creatures, self-esteem is profoundly influenced by our peers. Those who are different in any way may be ruthlessly harassed, way beyond the inevitable teasing that most kids endure. But even those who avoid abusive teasing, still absorb the norms of their group and may learn to abuse themselves secretly in their own minds. With the growing importance of sexuality in adolescence, perceived sexual differences become great sources of concern. For example, those who are or will become gay or lesbian, or whose sense of masculinity or femininity doesn't conform to expectations, are especially prone to turn against themselves. Long after a person rejects the ideals and norms that have caused so much hurt, the visceral sting can persist. Logic is no match for deeply-held emotional convictions. This is why even out-and-proud gays and lesbians still have to deal with the insidious effects of internalized homophobia from time to time.
Many who feel unworthy still manage to do well, perhaps allowing themselves to thrive in certain spheres of life while sabotaging themselves in other areas. Of course, some people feel "less than" across the board and can't quite imagine it any other way.
If we rated how we feel about ourselves on a continuum, self-hate would go on one end of the spectrum, but would self-love be on the other end? Maybe, but "self-love" can mean an over-inflated sense of one's worth compared to others, more narcissistic than loving. To me, the opposite of self-hate is actually self-acceptance. I've never seen a negative form of self-acceptance, except when it's misinterpreted to mean resignation.
Low self-esteem either causes, contributes to, and/or results from every other problem I've just described. And just as low self-esteem makes everything worse, self-acceptance has the opposite effect. Whereas self-acceptance is a positive stance towards oneself, self-compassion is the emotional force that promotes it—two essential dimensions of the same experience. That's why I like the term compassionate self-acceptance. The actual experience, of course, is even better.
Searching for Connection
In surveys, the vast majority of people say they want a special and lasting connection with a significant other. Most of us seek some combination of companionship, mutual caring and support, shared romantic attraction, and erotic passion. For different people, at different stages of life and relationship, one of these dimensions may be more important than the others. While the majority eventually find a partner, doing so can take a long time, typically involves one or more failed attempts, and the odds of long-term success are less than stellar. Yet the rewards are compelling. Positively partnered people consistently report greater happiness and may even have better health than their single counterparts. On the other hand, single people tend to be much happier than those stuck in bad relationships.
Many people have a difficult time finding the connection they crave. Sometimes the reasons are obvious: fear and avoidance, going after unavailable people, bailing out at the first sign of trouble, or desiring someone strongly disapproved by one's family or community—such as a person of the same-sex, or different ethnicity or religion.
Many people who have plenty to offer, and take active steps to meet available others, find themselves unwillingly alone and have no idea why. Some become desperate and clingy (even if they pretend not to be), which usually make candidates quickly retreat. Others discover that subconscious core beliefs about their unlovability are undermining their efforts. Still others come to realize that their "standards" are so high that no one can measure up. Then there are the problematic attractions that I discuss on the Sex Therapy page.
With sufficient motivation and persistence, these and other roadblocks to partnership can be successfully addressed in therapy. But the fact is that not everyone will find a suitable partner, or a replacement for one who's been lost. Building a full and rewarding life, with or without a significant other, is the greatest challenge for some. Ironically, just as couples who give up trying to get pregnant may find themselves expecting when they least expect it, I've known many men and women who decided to live life to the fullest as singles, who then came across someone special in the course of enjoying themselves.
Searching for Connection
In surveys, the vast majority of people say they want a special and lasting connection with a significant other. Most of us seek some combination of companionship, mutual caring and support, shared romantic attraction, and erotic passion. For different people, at different stages of life and relationship, one of these dimensions may be more important than the others. While the majority eventually find a partner, doing so can take a long time, typically involves one or more failed attempts, and the odds of long-term success are less than stellar. Yet the rewards are compelling. Positively partnered people consistently report greater happiness and may even have better health than their single counterparts. On the other hand, single people tend to be much happier than those stuck in bad relationships.
Many people have a difficult time finding the connection they crave. Sometimes the reasons are obvious: fear and avoidance, going after unavailable people, bailing out at the first sign of trouble, or desiring someone strongly disapproved by one's family or community—such as a person of the same-sex, or different ethnicity or religion.
Many people who have plenty to offer, and take active steps to meet available others, find themselves unwillingly alone and have no idea why. Some become desperate and clingy (even if they pretend not to be), which usually make candidates quickly retreat. Others discover that subconscious core beliefs about their unlovability are undermining their efforts. Still others come to realize that their "standards" are so high that no one can measure up. Then there are the problematic attractions that I discuss on the Sex Therapy page.
With sufficient motivation and persistence, these and other roadblocks to partnership can be successfully addressed in therapy. But the fact is that not everyone will find a suitable partner, or a replacement for one who's been lost. Building a full and rewarding life, with or without a significant other, is the greatest challenge for some. Ironically, just as couples who give up trying to get pregnant may find themselves expecting when they least expect it, I've known many men and women who decided to live life to the fullest as singles, who then came across someone special in the course of enjoying themselves.
My Approach to therapy
Except for true believers who embrace just one type of therapy, most experienced therapists bring together multiple influences, blending them to fit their natural styles and personalities.
A couple of years ago, I was speaking to a professional conference on the topic, "How Eros Heals" (you can listen to it on the Hear Me Speak page). Afterwards, someone in the audience asked my colleague if someone in her area practiced "Morinic therapy." We had a good laugh over that, but I was really touched by the implicit compliment. Here are some major components of Morinic therapy.
Heart of a Humanist
So much depends on how we approach our clients. Some say that neutrality is the most therapeutic stance. That's not a bad idea, but it doesn't work for me. My fundamental attitude toward clients was solidified by my early exposure to humanistic psychology. Carl Rogers described the ideal: unconditional positive regard. Like all ideals, no therapist can sustain this feeling all the time, but mostly it comes quite naturally for me.
Also from humanistic psychology I absorbed an unshakable belief that, if given half a chance, most people will gravitate toward growth and health. So I don't have to figure out how to "make" clients better. My goal is to find a client's pre-existing healing impulses and aligning myself with them.
Also from the humanist tradition, existential psychology has shaped my view of therapy. This approach seeks to understand everyday difficulties against the backdrop of the human condition itself. It's impossible to fully come to terms with our personal problems until we somehow face the actual conditions of our lives, such as:
- our vulnerability to dangers as tiny as a virus and as big as lightening strike
- the utter randomness of so much of what happens in life
- the seeming lack of any inherent meaning or purpose to life besides its perpetuation (unless we create or find it)
- the inescapable dog-eat-dog aspects of life (Darwin was right)
- the impermanence of everything
Before you head for the bridge (that's what we say in San Francisco when someone feels like calling it quits), we already know a lot of this stuff from an early age. But as we move through life, we revisit these realities again and again, seeking a way to accept them. This is NOT the design we would have chosen!
These unwelcome truths of living are important in therapy because small-picture problems, like depression or fear, are problematic partly because they remind us of big-picture realities we'd rather not think about.
Behavior and Cognition
In college I read B.F. Skinner, the father of behaviorism. Frankly, I hated that crap! According to this ridiculous view, all we can do is respond to rewards and punishments like lab rats. No free will, no choices, no consciousness. A more soul-numbing view of life has never been devised. Luckily, behaviorism evolved rather rapidly and is now a sophisticated psychology of learning. It was difficult for me to make the transition from utter disgust, to a growing realization that it makes a lot of sense to look at how certain repetitive behaviors are keeping us in a rut, and to think about and how we might act differently if we decide to try. It's equally helpful to know that changing our behaviors can be easier than changing how we feel. Consciously examining our behavior patterns expands our choices and can open up a fast track to feeling better.
Just as our behavior patterns affect the quality of our lives, our thoughts and beliefs do the same thing. Behavior and cognition are both complex, but a huge proportion of the brain is devoted to receiving, processing, interpreting, storing, and retrieving information and experience. And brain science tells us that we often mess it up at every turn. Once again, cultivating a deeper awareness can save the day. What, exactly, do we spend most of our time thinking about? And what do we truly believe about ourselves and others? Which "mistaken certainties" do we cling to and use to misperceive and misinterpret ambiguous events as evidence of what we're already programmed to believe? If we don't explore these questions, we're doomed to prove our worst beliefs.
Mindfulness
This is where the amazing tool known as mindfulness comes into play. Beginning as a form of Buddhist meditation, mindfulness is simply the practice of self-observation with curiosity, free of any judgment, and without the need to take any action whatsoever, except to gently return our attention to the realities of the moment. What are the sensations in each part of my body? Which emotions are active right now? What thoughts keep running through my head? After a while (it can be fairly quick, too) we begin to see the constant whirling in our heads as a curious distraction, not nearly as real as it seemed. In recent years, a growing body of research is confirming how mindfulness can help us deal with a wide range of issues by promoting compassionate self-acceptance—the master key to positive change.
The Search for Wholeness
Which brings me to Carl Jung, Freud's colleague and one-time friend who was interested in the psychic motifs found in human expressions, regardless of place or time. For decades he studied art, myths, dreams, even fairytales. He identified recurring themes he called archetypes. I wouldn't know how to be a Jungian therapist, but I do explore with my clients some of Jung's archetypes, because they point the way toward integration and wholeness.
The Shadow is an unconscious repository of denied and suppressed parts of ourselves considered bad, uncivilized, and unacceptable—our hatreds, rages, darkest impulses, lusts, and primitive urges. Cut off from conscious awareness, the Shadow festers and becomes exaggerated and extreme. We have only a few options for dealing with it. We can tighten the lid even more and become moralistic and self-righteous. We can act out the shadow sporadically in Jekyll and Hyde scenarios. We can project our shadow impulses onto others, which we do all the time, even in our intimate relationships.
The remaining option is to reclaim the shadow as an essential part of our humanity. If we can find a way to make room for it in our self-image, we become larger, more real, less constricted, and more whole. Here's something that once surprised me: As we become conscious of our shadow, acknowledging all of our capacities for good and evil, we're much less likely to act upon our destructive thoughts and urges.
Another Jungian archetype is the Self (capital "S"). I think of it as the psychic equivalent of our genetic code. The Self contains all of the potentials and possibilities within us—known and not-yet-known. Ultimately, according to Jung, the Self leads us to feel more connected with the universe. Having a Self means that we don't have to invent who we are, although we all need a persona, Jung's term for our public face. Individuation, Jung's term for psychological integration, is largely a process of discovery.
Obviously, I view the development of consciousness as a crucial aspect of healing and growth, no matter what our problems may be. This is why I'm in favor of whatever it takes to nudge open what Aldous Huxley called the "doors of perception." Who knows what we might find on the other side?