Is the Self “Fixed” (or Can I Change)?

Born to Grow

Happiness and well-being, then, are realized to be skills to acquire and a path to take, rather than an inviolable nature. Misery is not our destiny.”

If I’ve heard it once over my 25 years of professional practice (give or take), I’ve heard it a thousand times: “I can’t change; that’s just who I am.”
But is there any scientific validity to it?

Therapeutic Example: “Mark”

 

His name has been changed but the story of the first patient I ever used the mindfulness-based cognitive therapy approach with (before there was a mindfulness based CT approach formally identified, anyway) has much to say here. Let’s call him “Mark.”
I had recently accepted a position at a small private college approximately 1 hour and 20 minutes away from my home. To get away from the job I was in (and poorly suited for) I would have gladly driven twice that distance so I jumped at the opportunity. Since I tend to be on the geeky side, I wanted to use the time to learn some cool neuroscience stuff so I began listening to a series of CDs from the Mind and Life Institute titled “Getting Rid of Destructive Emotions.”
The Mind and Life Institute consists of eminent scientists of nearly every stripe, as well as clinical professionals all in dialogue with the Dalai Lama and other mediation practitioners. I also have a masters in religion. Bingo! Geek heaven for me!


What does science have to do with the Dalai Lama? I had to find out. And the science was
astounding.


Mark came to me at the small private college I was working with, complaining of serious depressive and anxious symptoms including suicidal thoughts. He also had developed trichotillomania — he pulled hair out of his head and eyebrows, leaving unsightly bare spots. He colored in his eyebrows and wore baseball caps to cover up the damage.
Although Mark was very intelligent he was unable to concentrate, remember and learn, so he could not get his grade point average to go above a 2.7 to save his life. He was not a partier then, and is not now. He studied assiduously. Moreover, he reported having suffered with anxiety and depression since about age 10. The family dynamics for this adopted son and his sister were not terrible, but they were not optimal either. Issues are as issues are, and he had them.
The severity of his symptoms concerned me, and I said, “With all these symptoms I think I’m going to have to refer you to our nurse practitioner for some med… .” But before I could get the word “medications” out, he said firmly: “I don’t want any medications!”
At that moment, my scientifically oriented brain shifted into gear, and before I realized it, I said: “Cool! You want to do an experiment with me?” He said, “Sure!”
Oh, no … . Quickly, I realized my mistake. Suicidal thoughts had to be taken into consideration.


So I quickly offered him my services under three conditions:

1. He had to promise me he would guarantee his safety
2. He would see me twice weekly
3. And, if he was not feeling any better by 4 weeks, he would reconsider the idea of medications

I began to teach him what I was learning about mindfulness, and he began to apply a few practices. As I learned, I showed him how to do this everywhere he went. When this happened, he was off like a shot!

Therapy is not about continuing to rehearse what we have always done in order to remain as we always perceive ourselves to have been.”

He practiced 30 minutes per day sitting still. He practiced when he ate meals, when he walked to class, when he drove, when he showered and in the classroom.


The results astounded us both.


His grade point average was 3.2 that semester, 3.5 the next, 3.75 the next, and 4.0 the next. His last semester at college it was a calamitous 3.75. We had seen each other all along, but formal therapy had been relatively brief.
He learned, I learned. He practiced, I practiced. We did so separately and together. And he came to me after it was all said and done and said, “Things with my family are still messed up, but I’m not depressed about it anymore, I’m not anxious like I was and I hardly ever pull a hair out of my head.”
Pardon my language here but I thought to myself: “Holy crap! What have I found.”
All of this prompted me to fly to Harvard Medical Schools’ conference on mindfulness the next spring. I heard presentations form some of the best scientists and practitioners about the research and promise of mindfulness, and I have been sold ever since. This was about 9 years ago. The research studies now are in the tens of thousands, with much more needing to be done.

The Myth of the “Fixed” Self

 

Usually, we hear that if mental disorders begin in early childhood, they are likely to continue throughout life — requiring medication to keep symptoms under control. And many have said that once personality is developed, say by age 6, it is “fixed.”


Is this the case?


The buzz word in neuroscience over the last 40 or so years, as you may know, is neuroplasticity. And this concept states that the brain/neurology changes throughout life with new information and, especially, practices. “The neurons that fire together wire together” and the more frequent the firing the more powerful the action potential. Habits are habits because of this process, and habits also change because of this process.
So just what is this “I” my initial quotation refers to? What constitutes the “self?” Is there something that makes me what I am permanently? These and other questions are not completely understood by science. Religion and philosophy have many answers to them, but none are scientifically validated.


So what does science say now?


An intriguing view comes from the work of a group of scientists involved in the relatively new field of interpersonal neurobiology — and the story of their deliberations on the subjects is fascinating — but here is their current understanding. It can be summarized by a metaphor for “self” I first read in the writings of Stephen Hayes, Ph.D, — the originator of acceptance and commitment therapy. I do not know how he presents this in therapy sessions (but I have my take on it), so with apologies to Dr. Hayes — here goes.


The “self” is like a chessboard.


There are dark colored squares and pieces and light colored squares and pieces, which can move about and create nearly innumerable patterns (and the brain is incredibly complex).
Our brains have 1 trillion cells and 80-90 billion neurons with trillions of synapses. Each of these neurons fire between 5 and 50 times per second — even while sleeping — so these “chess pieces” are continuously moving about.
So on our personal chessboard of the “self,” these pieces and the possibilities of thoughts, feelings, sensations, images and behaviors are truly innumerable. At times, when the dark pieces are “winning” the moment, we may feel uncomfortable. When the light colored pieces are in ascendance, we feel comfortable. But no feeling lasts forever, and with the movement of a single pawn the whole chemistry changes.
The truth is (whether we consciously change anything or not), the chess pieces move; feelings and sensation and thoughts change moment to moment. We can learn to move pieces about to develop in any number of directions. Depressed folks generally and automatically practice depression. Anxious folks usually practice anxiety in an equally automatic way.

Further Defining the Self

 

The “self” is, as Daniel Siegel writes, the “place of possibilities” with no one single set of behaviors defining the personality any more than another can — within the generally unknown limits of a person’s genetic expression, that is. It is dynamic, fluid and malleable, and this is good news indeed.
Happiness and well-being, then, are realized to be skills to acquire and a path to take, rather than an inviolable nature. Misery is not our destiny.
Therapy is not about continuing to rehearse what we have always done in order to remain as we always perceive ourselves to have been. These perceptions are always skewed anyway and limited by themselves. If this was the case we would continue to feel much as we always have and why bother with therapy or psychiatrists. This old deterministic view does not square well with science. Therapy is about becoming aware of how our minds, our “self”, our chessboard operates so we may accept it as it is, with all of its possibilities, and learn to direct the flow.

Sustained Progress

 

What about Mark you might ask?


Well, I had lunch with him in December 2014 and he reported that his progress has continued. No depression. No trichotillomania.
And he was reading Jon Kabat-Zinn’s “Wherever You Go, There You Are.” So, there you are.

Stability of Mind

The brain is vastly complex. There are 1.1 million cells, 80-90 billion neurons each firing 5-50 times per second even while we are asleep. There are 10's of thousands of interconnections between the neurons and trillions of neuronal synapses thousands of which could fit on the width of a single human hair. The “flow” is constant and can be regulated but not stopped, for very long at least. And it is also true that the brain is not confined to the skull. Neurons are brain cells and wherever there is a neuron there is the brain. Where ever there is the brain there the “mind” can operate. Yes, this is complicated but important to know. So when my patients tell me they can't do mindfulness because they cannot get their minds to quiet down I tell them “But I never told you to quiet your mind. That's impossible.” They usually look at me bewildered and then have to agree that this idea came out of their own misconceptions. One misconception out the window.

So in the brain/body there is a continuous flow of information in the form of thoughts, images, feelings, sensations, via chemical, biological, electrical pathways and the energy required for all of it to occur in the first place. It cannot be stopped entirely but it can, over time, become more quiet. We have a lot of chatter going on in the brain/body.

The “mind”, a philosophical and scientific mystery to this very day, has a function most scientists can agree on that is important for us practically:

One factor of mind is that it is “an embodied and relational process that regulates the flow of information and energy” (Daniel Siegel, Pocket Guide to Interpersonal Neurobiology: An Integrative Handbook of the Mind, page 25)

So “mind” can direct and regulate the flow of continuous information and energy going on in our brains/bodies and what we do with it. In this way we can begin to rewire or restructure neuronal pathways and the brain itself. To do this you need a more stable mind and mindfulness is a prime way to stabilize the mind so that it can perform this function more freely and move us along toward personal goals. All of us can certainly agree that an “unstable mind” leads to unstable thoughts, feelings, and behaviors. None of us want that.

So what does it mean to have a stable mind and how does mindfulness produce it? Perhaps it would be helpful to consider an “unstable” mind. Let's use a common metaphor for both.

The activity of the brain (the “inner world” as it is sometimes called) is similar to the ocean. All of the dynamic activity in the brain is like the currents and waves of the sea. Sometimes it is turbulent and we need either to steer or ride it out and sometimes it is calmer but the dynamics behind the scenes are always present and they can change very quickly. So it is with the brain. The dynamics are out of awareness for the most part but powerfully create turbulence, calm, and every “state” in between. More often than not, there are many “states” occurring at once and the vast majority of these are not consciously directed at all like the currents and waves of the ocean. These represent unconscious or automatic reactions to some stimuli either internal (a feeling or thought or sensation and often all three) or to an external event (e.g. an accident or reward for good behavior) interpreted by us using our histories of similar events and interpretations of them. For example, harsh words from a friend in the present signals a mental process of evaluation and feelings are produced to prompt action based on previous similar experiences. Its efficient so we don't have to think too much in its automaticity but we may over-react based on a flawed assessment too. Acting too quickly based on impulses that arise automatically can save us if a truck is barreling down on us but it may damage a relationship for ever.

This is instability; being tossed about by the waves, impulses based on unconscious/automatic thoughts, feelings, sensations without using our oars to steer or simply riding it out. In this case we are ruled by impulses and we act on them without much consideration for the consequences for self and others.

A mind that is stable and produces stability acts differently.

First, the stable mind accepts that the inner world is full of dynamics outside of awareness and that neither it nor the forces going on in the world including other people and their inner worlds and outer behaviors can be (entirely) controlled.

Second, it realizes that difficulties inside and out come and go and does not get apoplectic when they arise. After all, what has just happened cannot have been any different.

Third, the stable mind observes and decides the best course of action. Do I do something now, later, at all? Or do I simply ride this out. What goes up does come down...eventually.

Fourth, the stable mind does not identify with any impulse or set of impulses as if they constituted “who I am”. The human person is capable of millions of different impulses and actions. It would be foolish to limit myself to any set of them. Even if someone pulls a gun on me and says your money or your life I still have a choice.

Or we can be like a bull with a ring in its nose and act on every impulse that arises. And then we would all likely be in prison and some of us are in “prisons”, if not literally, figuratively, of feelings, beliefs, behaviors. Depression, anxiety, anger, shame, guilt, addictions. What are these if not internal prisons?

Mindfulness develops stability of mind.

First, by developing awareness of what actually “is” rather than living in a world of narrative fantasies (things either should or shouldn't be as they are this moment.)

Second, by developing acceptance for things as they are right now. If you think about it the reason we become distressed most often is because we insist that things NOT be as they ARE.

Third, by developing the freedom to observe something happening without having to do anything about it. By developing the ability to have thoughts, feelings, and behaviors but not react to them we free the “self' from the prison of automaticity. And then to act constructively if we so choose. .

George Bernard Shaw once said ‘To be in hell is to drift; to be in heaven is to steer.”

Beginner’s Mind

Soon after my wife and I moved to Knoxville, TN my good friend Ben suggested that we take in the Zen exhibit at the McClung Museum on the campus of the University of Tennessee. Having more than a passing interest in the subject I readily took him up on it. The beautiful simplicity of design struck me immediately. The middle of the hall was graced with a long, raised, rectangular, wooden frame full of small grey stones “raked” in the form of flowing water.  Mountains, represented by larger grey boulders, provided something for the “water” to flow around. Given just a few “mindful” moments and one could become calmer quickly.  I noticed my typically hurried mind and body wanting to move through hurriedly and reflected, disappointedly, that the exhibit was relatively small. I worked to slow myself down against the normal tide.  Why the hurry? Well, no reason really.  It seems I don’t need a “reason”.

Around the walls were displays of Japanese calligraphy moving left to right from early to later periods and from primitive to more detailed and developed in form all spotlighted tastefully. I had always wondered about the fascination with the more primitive style and, frankly, had never appreciated it…until I read some of the descriptions. 

There is an “attitude” or mindset characteristic of Zen and which indeed can be found in other spiritual traditions that emphasizes what is called the “beginner’s mind”.  In the words of Shinryu Suzuki:

“In the beginner’s mind there are many possibilities, in the expert’s mind there are few.”

So, it seems, these primitive forms of calligraphy and art were an exercise in beginner’s mind meaning that the artist attempted to approach his task like a child doing the art as if for the first time.  

It is possible to see this in other spiritual practices and mindsets. For instance the great Jewish Rabbi Abraham Heschel referred to his spirituality as one of “amazement”, of seeing things with wonder, as if for the first time.

“Our goal should be to live life in radical amazement...get up in the morning and look at the world in a way that takes nothing for granted. Everything is phenomenal; everything is incredible; never treat life casually. To be spiritual is to be amazed.”

Another example may be found in the Sufi poet Rumi who wrote:

"Make peace with the universe. Take joy in it. It will turn to gold. Resurrection will be now. Every moment, a new beauty."

And yet another example from the Christian tradition:

“At that time the disciples came to Jesus, saying, ‘Who is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven?’ And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them,and said, "Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child, he is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven.”

What then are the benefits of beginner’s mind? Why is it so prized by these spiritual traditions? And what benefit is there to those with no spiritual tradition or religious interest? Normally we perceive that the more complex the thoughts the more rich and valuable they are but is this really the case generally?  

The fact is our brains create stories about everything in order to make sense out of them.  Nature abhors a vacuum we are told and the human brain abhors loose ends. Order, meaning, resolution drive us. One might argue that this is where religion comes from in the first place. But another fact of human perception and memory makes this quest for certainty impossible to attain.  

We are told that even the eyes do not see very clearly what is right in front of them.  Rick Hanson in Buddha’s Brain explained that the eyes really see clearly only a small area about the size of your pinky finger’s nail at the distance of your stretched out arm. The rest of the scene we perceive is filled in by the brain’s activity. We don’t see the blurs we see what the brain thinks we should see. It is even more unclear in our memories and even more our in predictions of the future. How are we filling in the blanks?  Well, if you remember from my previous article, “Put It All down”, the human brain is predisposed to negative thinking out of the need to protect us. It is more dangerous to miss the car speeding at us in the road than to approach the puppy on the other side of the road. Puppies are everywhere. They can wait.  A speeding car can kill us. So more often than not the human brain fills in the blanks with negatives. 

How can we be certain that what we are seeing is actually what is there? How can we be certain that the stories we use or create is an accurate representation of what is “true”? In most cases, even in the case of science, which has more certainty than most pursuits, it usually boils down to some kind of belief that what I observe and believe makes the most sense…to me. Perhaps you espouse a philosophy or system that has ancient roots and a well developed set of ideas and practices, say, a religion. Perhaps you align yourself with something more “modern” and less attached to ancient interpretations of what is “true”, say, science.  That is your business and I’ll leave you to it.  But in the realm of therapeutic work seeing what is there or attempting to do so can have remarkably salutary effects. 

The ideas in our minds and the stories we develop to make sense of the disparate data entering our senses constantly affect the whole of us, that is, neurologically and physiologically and relationally, if the sense data, ideas, and stories are strong. Sometimes the effects become divorced from our conscious awareness and mental control and become encoded, as it were, in the body itself. Physical sensations occur often throughout the day without a clear storyline driving them. This is perhaps the reason that we often feel things and do things that we don’t understand. The impulses drive us rather than the other way around. And then, more often than not, we spin in logical and illogical circles trying desperately to make sense of the experience as if making sense of it will resolve it. We work to create new stories to adjust or replace the old stories and sometimes this helps but. sometimes it only creates more conflict and more conflict produces more suffering and  more suffering creates the perceived need for greater “understanding” (i.e. more stories), and on and on. 

Beginner’s mind can offer a radically new approach to addressing these “loops” by shelving the stories or dropping out of the storyline and focusing on the physical sensations instead. And, with a purposefully adopted sense of “wonder”, acceptance and curiosity. We approach the experience as if it was the first time we have ever experienced it and consider it as it rises, intensifies, diminishes, changes. The knowledge that it is a flow of process rather then a “thing” and that it is replaced by other experiences, within seconds of each other usually, helps to give a sense of freedom. This perspective also gives us ability to sit back and observe the stories our minds produce. Some of them may even be worth keeping. We do not have to react impulsively. We do not need to fight or avoid or control anything. We are free to direct attention, and actions, and decisions in response to whatever comes. We become free to choose out highest virtues…with practice, that is. 

Preferences

A Padded Wicker Chair

Sweet, heavy smell of rain on the wind.

Heavy blossoming and greening dogwoods, young tender leaves quivering.

Mountains, some covered in early morning clouds, both rising 

In clear sight. 

Birdsong. Dozens perhaps. Lyrical, sharp, deep, excited, playful.

From this porch, in this padded wicker chair. 

Two teenage girls in running attire running, at least one of them, the other walking and adjusting her technology to better shut out something, the outside and maybe also the in. 

Landscapers with trailers draped in mowers and trimmers and tanned workers sleepily going to there somewhere. 

The earth is awake and so am I. 

From this porch and this padded wicker chair. 

Feelings emerge from nowhere or somewhere triggered by something or nothing. Cling to them, they remain. Release them and release them and release them. Some drift on easily. Others, well...yes, they do too. 

Sensations on the skin or inside deeper.

Peace, agitation, softness, heaviness, darkness, light.

Holding to one or the other for one or more moments. Appearing, returning and dissolving into the next.

Always a return to breath or birds, or blossoms, or green, or sunlight dappling through trees or thick clouds. Back to the breath, to home.

A ceaseless but sometimes quiet ebb and flow. 

Sitting on a front porch in a padded wicker chair. 

Put it all Down

“When your past calls, don’t answer. It has nothing new to say.”

Our pasts haunt us, especially those of us who tend to experience depression. It is the nature of the brain to remember. It is also the nature of the brain to predict so there are those of us just as haunted in the present by the future. Anxiety is the territory of those lost in prediction. Neither directional focus, however powerful, represents reality accurately. 

I remember a scene from my distant past. My twin brother and I, at age 5 or so, were sick. It was influenza according to my memory; the “old-fashioned” kind with respiratory problems and body aches. Fortunately there were two parents. My mother was tending to Frank and I was sitting on my father’s lap. I remember us being in the kitchen. I remember myself feeling exhausted but warm and safe wrapped in Dad’s bear-like arms. There was a fireplace in the kitchen and I was facing its glow; not too close, not too far. Just right. I remember the back door opening and my paternal grandparents entering just for a minute so as not to be exposed too much. They carried teddy bears and I eagerly clung to it, resting against my father’s strong chest, gazing at the fire…

…except there was no fire or fireplace. There was a space heater. 

Our minds fill in blank spaces in our memories and there are many, many of them. Our memories are not accurate in all their details. We may embellish the details of our memories either with things that are more comforting, beautiful, soothing, ideal or the opposite. My patients have nearly all experienced some form of abuse and if not actual abuse then real and equally destructive neglect. But the details? Not all of the details are remembered accurately. In these cases the negative “fillers” can be even more destructive than the facts. 

The accuracy of the details is not that important to me in the therapy office (I am not a detective) but often, as the therapeutic process develops, stories begin to change. For some who could not remember anything positive about their pasts, now positive memories arise. For some, the horrors of their memories are moderated or softened. Some simply learn to accept what they remember and release it so they can live.  Whichever path is taken the fact remains--The narratives of our lives can dictate our feelings in the present and our expectations of the future. 

A princess once came to ask the Buddha for meditation instruction. She had brought with her fine sandalwood incense and rare jewels and other stuff that she thought would make an appropriate offering to such a famous teacher. She wanted to present all of this to the Buddha personally, so instead of having one of her servants carry it (which is what she normally would have done) she carried all of it herself.
When she came to the Buddha she had both arms full of these expensive and exotic goodies. The Buddha looked up at her and asked her why she had come. She said that she wanted him to teach her how to meditate. The Buddha then said simply "Put it down." So she put down one arm-load of her offerings - right at the Buddha's feet. Then the Buddha said again, "Put it down." So she put down the rest of her offerings at the Buddha's feet. Then the Buddha said "Put it all down."

To expand the thought a bit further there was a famous Korean Zen Master named Seung Sahn - he was very fond of this teaching phrase "put it all down." He said it all the time. Sometimes it seemed like it was all he ever said! One time a student asked Zen Master Seung Sahn, "But HOW do I 'put it all down'?" Zen Master Seung Sahn replied, "Put THAT down, too."

How do we “put it all down”? Simplistic sounding isn’t it? And I suppose it really is. Many times what we would desperately like to put down and never pick up again simply won’t stay down. Perhaps we struggle to put it down because we have been trying to avoid it. Avoiding facing things is a great way of ensuring that it won’t go away; like trying to ignore an elephant in the living room. Perhaps we have been engaging the thoughts, feelings, sensations, and experiences in a fight to the death! Well, that is a sure-fire way to NOT let go of it.  Perhaps we need to explore it some more and allow our brains to integrate what we have been fighting or avoiding so it may lose its power. And the latter is really the trick here. 

We cannot put things down by pushing them away or wrestling with them. We can really only release them, paradoxically, if we approach them and open ourselves to the experience. This does not mean that we want to do or become the thing we have been fighting. It simply means that our observing mind can lose its fear and anger towards what we perceive as the enemy. And that the treasure hidden often in our worst moments, the good desire that got conscripted by an impulse for clinging or aversion or a false narrative, can be uncovered and accepted. Often, the attempt to avoid or fight memories of experiences we do not like, becomes a fight against something in ourselves that ought to be redeemed. 

Carl Jung said it very well:

“The acceptance of oneself is the essence of the whole moral problem and the epitome of a whole outlook on life. That I feed the hungry, that I forgive an insult, that I love my enemy in the name of Christ -- all these are undoubtedly great virtues. What I do unto the least of my brethren, that I do unto Christ. But what if I should discover that the least among them all, the poorest of all the beggars, the most impudent of all the offenders, the very enemy himself -- that these are within me, and that I myself stand in need of the alms of my own kindness -- that I myself am the enemy who must be loved -- what then? As a rule, the Christian's attitude is then reversed; there is no longer any question of love or long-suffering; we say to the brother within us "Raca," and condemn and rage against ourselves. We hide it from the world; we refuse to admit ever having met this least among the lowly in ourselves.” 

― C.G. Jung, Memories, Dreams, Reflections

So how to set things down? By first picking it up courageously and compassionately…whatever it is. 

This we don’t simply do with our minds. Our bodies must also engage in the acceptance and release. This can be accomplished by opening our bodies tight and tense with anxiety, as if we are going into or are in a fight, by consciously relaxing the muscles as if there ISN”T something to fight.  We may have to do this over and over and over until we finally get it. At this point when the thought or feeling returns, and it will most likely, it will not hurt so much or stay very long. Observation, acceptance and investigation if needed, responding with compassion, and physical release is not a recipe but a process to work through. Mindfulness and meditation can be essential to the process. Eventually you might just find that you may become free just with the paradoxical notion that to be truly free we should not try to be. That is what it means to put down even the process used to become free. We can even put down the process of putting things down. 

In this way we may effectively live relatively free from hatred of the past and fear of the future. Not completely free but free to surf the tides of changing thoughts, feelings, and sensations. And this is freedom indeed. 

Observing Mind, Thinking Mind

“Between stimulus and response there’s a space, in that space lies our power to choose our response, in our response lies our growth and our freedom.”

Victor Frankl

There once was a young man who lived with his wife and two young children out in the country. His wife was a nurse and had to get to the surgery suite early that day so he was responsible for getting his 6 year old daughter and 18 month old son up and ready to go. The little girl would go to her first grade class in the nearby town.  The toddler would go to his sitter’s home in a town some 30 minutes away in the other direction while he then went to work in the same town as he.

 The morning was not going according to plan. And he would be late to work regardless. It got later and later. 

The children, being children and necessarily attention-challenged, were not terribly interested in the schedule of events for the morning. Instant packages of oatmeal did not appeal to them. Wearing clothes at all was not the boy’s preferred attire even on a good day. Today, as far as he was concerned, he would go very casually. For some reason the pony-tails (a mystery to our hero) would not line up just right and red and purple, at least these shades, did not match. Not that the dad cared that much whether the pony-tails were perfect or that the clothes matched but he knew that his wife would.   So, they struggled and he got angrier and angrier. His words were not entirely inappropriate for children but his tone made up for that. 

“Hurry up! Eat your oatmeal! Put your shoes on! Get your teeth brushed! Etc, etc.  And by the time it was all done, as well as it was going to be done, and the children were safely secured in their car seats in the brand new used Dodge Caravan (which he in his great wisdom purchased without his wife’s input) he breathed a sigh of relief. But, as he pulled out of the garage into the rain he quickly noticed that the right front tire was flat! 

He put the van into park, jumped out of the minivan, kicked the tire, and shouted a few inappropriate words. Aaaargh! He stomped and fussed and grimaced. Just then his daughter rolled down the window and calmly said, 

“Daddy, if you’re late to work will they fire you?”

And then,

“Daddy, if I’m late to school we’ll just tell them we had a flat tire.”

And then,

“Daddy, tires get flat…you just fix them.”

It took a matter of moments for the little girl to do therapy on her daddy and I proceeded to take the children into the house and calmly fix the tire. (She loves when I tell that story.)

Normally, we humans act on automatic pilot based on previous experience. This acting on impulse can be a very efficient, effective and helpful use of energy and cognitive power…if you’re dodging bullets or a Mack truck. If, however, the matter before you is more complex, such as the one above, perhaps a more subtle response would be in order. 

The fact is there were a variety of possible responses available to our hero. The one he initially chose was an impulse based in fear/anger. The impulse was strong, the physiological flow of adrenalin and corticosteroids required some reaction or response, but my behavior, while automatic, was not inevitable. A six year old child short-circuited it for heaven’s sake. But thinking before we speak and act requires the development of the ability to pause between stimulus and action. That we CAN do this does not mean we will.  

There are a variety of theories used to explain this phenomenon, ranging from the ridiculous to the sublime. Some are religious e.g. we are “sinful” people or it was the result of a demonic being. Some are philosophical i.e. the problem of evil. Some are scientific i.e. an imbalance among limbic, prefrontal, and higher cortical functions or perhaps introjected aspects of the family system. Regardless of which view you espouse there is a scientifically based solution and it is adaptable to any religious or philosophic tradition. Practicing in any form, secular or religious, leads to the same neurological results. 

The mind has two overall general functions. These are often called, again very generally, the “thinking mind” and the “observing mind”. The former we know quite well and live in it more often than not. The “thinking mind” judges, analyzes, reasons, constructs scenarios, tells stories, and attempts to make sense out of things. The “observing mind” simply watches. It does not engage in judging, analyzing, story telling, etc. It is simply aware. With nurturance we can become better at it but our mind resists staying in this mode. The “thinking mind” is our default mode. 

Mindfulness builds the power of the “observing mind” as one practices simply watching. From there one can begin to develop the mind/brain in one’s preferred directions, but it is necessary to begin here. The benefits are numerous emotionally, psychologically, and physiologically. For one, there is ability to step back, pause, and consider the consequences of one’s behavior before acting. My daughter agrees. 

"You Have Found the Secret of This Place"

Mindfulness is like sitting on the bank of a river perhaps with your back against a tree watching the river flow by. There are many objects that might flow down your river depending on the experiences and memories you have. You really cannot control what gets carried down the river nor can you control all of the  thoughts that flow in your stream of consciousness The objects carry emotions and physical sensations with them, pleasant or unpleasant, and you may also observe the flow of these within you. Watch as they come and go. Watch as some of these have more power than others and tend to attract more attention. 

When things seem to attract more attention and create more emotion you may do one of several things. You may dive in, grab hold of it, and either get carried away downstream or pull it to the bank with you and meditate on it. This will serve to enhance and sustain the experience. If it is an unpleasant memory, thought, feeling, sensation then you will feel distress. If the thoughts, feelings, sensations are pleasant and you attend to them you will feel pleasant. 

One may also choose to deny or avoid the object or experience, damming up the river to prevent the object from floating into our consciousness or pushing it of consciousness. If this is the choice what will soon happen is that the river will overflow and you will soon find the object sitting squarely and uncomfortably in your lap. Avoidance or denial of what is there also enhances and sustains the experience.

What we fix our attention on reinforces the power of the object. While it does no good to avoid or deny that negative, unpleasant, even perverse thoughts enter our minds, our "stream of consciousness", and create feelings and sensations in our bodies it also does us greater harm to fix our attentions on them EVEN with the intent of removing them. It is far better, in realistic humility, to admit that these things do come to mind, refocus attention toward something better, beautiful, pleasant, or helpful, and allow the thought to be there. If you do not fight the unpleasant thoughts or try to avoid them they will to flow more quickly out of our consciousness.

Meditation is a constant human activity whether we do it formally or not. It is not a matter of whether we will meditate or not, we will. The issue really is on what will we meditate i.e. repetitively and deliberately fix our attention. It may be television, a computer screen, a novel, nature, donuts, anything, but meditate we will. And even then our minds become distracted quickly and we have to pull it back. 

I often ask patients to focus their attention on all of the red objects in my office. Immediately and usually before I finish my request their eyes dart all around the room. This occurs whether or not they are in great distress and my request may come at a highly unexpected moment. I may then ask them to observe a particular shape in my office, say all the rectangles. Immediately their eyes begin to dart once again. It takes microseconds for the brain to shift attention and create an experience with "red" or "entangles" at the fore. 

I then explain that this is how the brain works. The red objects and rectangles were always there but until there was the request to attend to them the red objects and rectangles were on the periphery and unremarkable. Once the request was made areas of the brain that process “red” and “rectangles” began absorbing more glucose and emitting more bioelectrical activity.  Then, for a short time, it’s hard NOT to see "red" or "rectangles". Other areas of the brain not needed in processing red and rectangular objects grow quieter and the internal experiences-thoughts, feelings, behaviors-immediately change or begin to. 

Areas of the brain that produce a sense of well-being are reinforced by the use of mindfulness practices generally and if the intention is to increase awareness of the pleasant, good, and beautiful then areas responsible for creating that experience can also be enhanced further by meditations focused toward that end. 

Focusing on the unpleasant produces similar effects in the brain but not of the well-being variety. Areas responsible for feelings of guilt, depression, anxiety, anger, shame come on-line and the affects should not be difficult to imagine. We do not eliminate unhelpful behaviors by self-despising, fighting against them, or using energy to push them away. These behaviors rather reinforce them. Is it any wonder how we remain trapped in behaviors that violate our sense of virtue.

At the Archabbey of St. Meinrad in Indiana a female retreatant was walking along the broad walk before the beautiful sandstone buildings of the seminary. A monk sitting on a bench beckoned to her to sit with him. She shyly accepted his offer. He asked her, “Well, how do you like the place?” and then he quickly said, “No, don’t tell me. You can’t be here more than a few minutes and not like it.” Just then a bumble bee began buzzing around him prompting him to say, “It can’t be me he’s after. I’m not sweet enough.” The woman replied, “Maybe what attracts him to you isn’t so apparent.” Then he looked at her with moist eyes, “You have found the secret of this place.” 

Pay attention and you'll discover the secret of this place, whatever place you are in.