If you've
been trying
to ignore or overcome your problems, you're probably a bit stuck. Think of
the energy it takes, trying not to do something
you dislike about yourself. (See "How
to Do Yourself In.")
Often we're reluctant to confront so-called negative aspects of
ourselves because that promises to be uncomfortable - depending on
your level of discomfort this could range from feeling a "pinch" to
imagining you're being burned at the stake.
The psychologist Carl Jung had a
dream where he walked in a strong wind, holding a small flame in the
palm of his hand - his task to protect the flame while continuing
into the wind. Likewise, if you want to change, you must protect the
light of your inner potential, as you walk
"into the wind" of
the difficult territory of change. To
ease this process, instead of wasting energy not doing something you
don't want to do, go with the pattern but with one small,
even playful, difference.
Of many ways to face into the wind, these are
a few
examples:
Jerry was overwhelmed with the
burdens of work and felt “entrapped.” When
I asked him to locate that experience in his body and exaggerate it, he said it was like
“being in a chokehold.” Knowing
Jerry was a student of aikido, I asked
him how he might release a chokehold in aikido
fashion. Later we worked with this image,
wedding the right-brain language of metaphor with left-brain strategies, finding ways to
give his staff more information so they could do their jobs well and diminish his burden
of responsibility.
Sue, who “froze” when giving
formal presentations, reported a dream where her mother pleaded with Sue to kill her. I suggested Sue ask the mother, “Why are you here?"
The response: “I'm the mother who tells
you what you have to say is unimportant...
it’s time to ‘kill’ your fear of speaking out.” Further into this process of active
imagination, Sue expressed her vague
discomfort as “cloudy,” which she interpreted as protecting herself from
“blinding sunlight.” She asked
the cloud from her dream what she could do to release her discomfort. The
answer: “Imagine the light is set low on a dimmer. Gradually turn the dimmer up until your eyes get
used to bright light.” This internal
dialogue—and her metaphor of turning up the dimmer—freed Sue to give formal
presentations with greater comfort. She was delighted (and a
little surprised) that her anxiety dimmed as she allowed herself to be in the spotlight.
Karen disliked doing the mundane tasks on her
to-do list, one of which—making follow-up calls after an introductory letter—was
costing her business. She would retreat into
playing the piano instead of making the calls, and then feel shame over falling behind in
her work. I asked Karen what kind of music
she disliked playing. “I don’t like contemporary classical
music,” she admitted. I invited her to
consider, “How could you improvise in such a way that you’d enjoy playing
contemporary classical music?" She answered immediately, with a laugh, “By jazzing it up!” “Great,” I encouraged her. “Now, how could you jazz up your introductory
letter so making follow-up calls attracts you?” I
suggested she
“put it on the back burner and notice the innovative ideas that begin to occur to
you.” This suggestion was
based on an understanding of creative thinking: after a certain amount of
logical clarity, the most innovative solutions come at unexpected, unplanned moments,
often in right-brain images.
