I have plumbed the depths of philosophy academically and personally, enjoying the adventure of following the question “why?” to some sort of conclusion. Probably you are the same, enjoying speculative conversations with friends or colleagues and bantering about various points of interest and disparity. It can be fun and educational. Many in the scientific community look at asking “Why?” as an important first step of curiosity in the exploration of natural phenomena, leading to brilliant discoveries and a greater understanding of the natural world.
However, when I’m looking at human behavior and thought patterns, either in myself or a client, “Why?” can often be a stumbling block to understanding. It can often remove the inquirer from the present moment, rocketing them off into the fuzzy realms of philosophy, and consequently can lead to more questions, many of which are unable to be answered.
In my years of work, both personally and professionally, I have found another question to be more helpful. I prefer asking questions beginning with “What”. It’s much more aligned with the present moment and can be a great help in focusing the attention. For example “What am I feeling right now?” Or, “What did I get from this behavior?” These specifics can help create an understanding by giving particular information- by being direct rather than circular. In short, it’s more efficient. This is particularly valuable when working with depression, anxiety and/or substance abuse issues when time can be a very important factor to a person’s health and well-being.
I’ve also found that “Why?” is often a distraction, my way of pretending to deal with an issue but not actually dealing with it directly. We humans sometimes love to take the long road, but the problem with using “Why?” as a starting point is that it often leads farther away from a solution rather than closer. Many of my “Why?” questions have no answer- it may be fun to explore these questions, but if I’m really looking to get more information in order to make better choices and increase my self-understanding it’s not the most productive.
Most of us want the truth sooner or later- but it’s often much easier to deal with if we discover it for ourselves.

A Coat

I made my song a coat

Covered with embroideries

Out of old mythologies

from heel to throat;

But the fools caught it,

Wore it in the world’s eye

As though they’d wrought it.

Song, let them take it

For there’s more enterprise

In walking naked.

–William Butler Yeats From: W.B. Yeats, Selected Poems, Gramercy Books, 1992

When I was in college, I had many great educational moments- some of the more memorable having less to do with education than cleverness, sarcasm or personal triumph at the expense of ignorance- my own or someone else’s.

Probably the most memorable involved a theology seminar I took as a freshman. It was taught by a brilliant professor whom I admired greatly, and I was the youngest person in the class. I was cocky, charming and maybe a bit more arrogant than competent- but I was fascinated by the topic and I did want to learn. During a presentation I gave, I incorrectly used the term “paradox”, using it in place of the similar looking but very different meaning word “paradigm”.

The professor stopped me, and said “I believe I know what you meant. However, you must be careful in using words in an academic setting, well, in any setting. Paradox and paradigm may be easily confused in how they look, but not in how they mean. In any case, just to clarify, a paradox is a dual apparatus for parking boats.”

It took me a full minute to get the joke. But, twenty five years later, I have never forgotten it. Mostly because most of my own life and experience is filled with paradox.  It’s something that I regularly think about. A paradox is something that at first glance, seems contradictory, or even insane- usually going against common sense or instinct, which, after investigation, is accepted as well-founded or true. In my experience, it’s a paradigm for life.

I have seen a lot of people in pain, many of them as a priest or counselor. I have also experienced significant personal pain, with a range of perceptions as to the consequences. When dealing with personal pain, especially in a therapeutic setting, it’s natural to want to get it out of the way as soon as possible. The problem is that the  lessening of pain can be mistaken for resolution of the underlying issue. It’s like a stone in the shoe. If it is not taken out, it will continue to annoy or even cause great discomfort until it is removed.

Pain is a natural physiological warning system. Health care professionals all know that physical pain is important for the diagnosis and treatment of disease and injury. Pain tells us that something needs our attention, it’s a vital component of personal awareness. It’s also unpleasant, and when it becomes chronic it can create peripheral problems of depression, anxiety and low quality of life.

In my work, I see emotional pain in the same way. It helps to direct the attention to a particular place in the emotional framework of a person. In this way it can be enormously beneficial. It may also be terrifying. As humans, it seems natural to want to avoid pain at all costs. Indeed, avoiding pain is an enormous industry. Not only the pharmaceutical industry, but, one could argue, the alcohol industry, the candy industry, the movie industry and the many legal and  illegal industries that promise temporary relief.

Emphasis on the word temporary.

To treat a physical injury, a close examination is, in most cases necessary to avoid complications down the road.  Sometimes it is necessary to suffer more pain in order to eradicate it. Thus the “bite the bullet” metaphor. So it is with emotional injury.

That’s the paradox. In order to have less pain, we may have to feel more pain. And it’s not a gentle journey.

I remember a particularly difficult situation with someone in my care. She kept asking herself “Why can’t I let go? I want to let go!” I suggested that instead of trying to let go, she try holding on tighter. She basically accused me of being a sadist before I was able to explain. “Maybe because you don’t know exactly what you’re holding on to, you can’t let it go. I know it goes against your instincts, but holding on tighter might give you some valuable information. And I’m going to be here while you do that, so don’t be afraid.” It took a while, but by increasing resistance she was able to clearly identify a key to the fear that had held her hostage for several years.

It’s an old Gestalt maxim, “The Paradox of Change”, which is, essentially, change by not changing. Albert Bessler described it  in this way:

“change occurs when one becomes what he is, not when he tries to become what he is not. Change does not take place through a coercive attempt by the individual or by another person to change him, but it does take place if one takes the time and effort to be what he is — to be fully invested in his current positions. By rejecting the role of change agent, we make meaningful and orderly change possible (Bessler, 1970).

So the change is in awareness, not substance. We change not by trying to change or resisting change, but by simply being fully who we are- opening our eyes in the face of fears that tell us to keep them closed. In facing reality by entering the pain, the fear, the joy, the sadness, the shame, the anger- we do not necessarily experience more, we experience it in its proper context: fully informed reality. If we can experience the true self with all our senses intact, then life gets better. It’s the difference between seeing a black and white movie with no sound, out of focus on a small screen, and seeing the same movie in Technicolor and Surround Sound at Cinerama.

In my own life, it’s sometimes a struggle to remember to open my eyes. As a human being, I can get stubborn about holding onto my own suffering, closing my eyes to gain sympathy or just give into thoughts of anger, despair or sadness because it can be a very powerful place to be.

But I know it’s a dishonest place. With my eyes closed, I don’t have all the information I need to make good decisions- I can’t honestly evaluate myself and the world around me. I want to have all my senses alert and functioning- in spite of the possibility of pain, because I know that life is richer this way. And most importantly, I know the lies pain can bring. These lies include “You will never survive this hurt, it will hurt forever, no one will ever understand you, it’s too much, it’s too difficult, it takes too long.” All lies. All unprovable fear-mongering.

The truth:  All pain is temporary- even if we prolong it with fear and ignorance and shame, it cannot last forever. But, the paradox is, it always has something to teach- if we can keep our eyes open. As the Zen Master Shunryu Suzuki said:

“Hell is not punishment, it’s training.”

I’ve added a new link to the blogroll below, Driving Equality. They interviewed my partner, Ken last week. very moving. From the description:
“Driving Equality is a 107-day, 16,000-mile, 48-state trek across America to collect stories from LGBTQ people in an effort to raise awareness of the various forms of discrimination faced by our community in each state of the nation. Highlighting the differences in rights, laws, and amendments between the states will shed light on the current social standing of queer individuals today. I hope to create a dialogue about the disparities across the nation, and what can be done to end discrimination for all.”
Check it out!

During the 107-day trip, I will be meeting with LGBTQ community organizers, activists, and any citizens willing to talk. Through these interviews, I will gain an understanding of the current political climates, and explore ways of combating discrimination. Throughout my journey, I will make frequent posts on this website, including photos and video clips.

The project will culminate with a documentary of my experience with the aim of activating a discussion about potential strategies for ensuring equality.”

“Love after Love” 
by Derek Walcott

The time will come

when, with elation,

you will greet yourself arriving

at your own door, in your own mirror,

and each will smile at the other’s welcome,

and say, sit here.  Eat.

You will love again the stranger who was your self.

Give wine.  Give bread.  Give back your heart

to itself, to the stranger who has loved you

all your life, whom you ignored

for another, who knows you by heart.

Take down the love letters from the bookshelf,

the photographs, the desperate notes,

peel your own image from the mirror.

Sit.  Feast on your life.

“Love after Love” from COLLECTED POEMS 1948-1984 by Derek Walcott. Copyright © 1986 by Derek Walcott. Reprinted by permission of Farrar, Straus and Giroux, LLC.

There are many ways that I gain insight, some are as simple as noticing a spiderweb, some are as complicated as working through a problem with a friend or patient. Mostly, it happens when I’m talking to myself.

We all do it. Some do it out loud, some keep it silently cerebral, but there’s always some chatter going on. Well, not always. I have had moments of complete quiet- they never last too long- but still…. Anyway, I like to talk to myself, especially when I’m not stressed with worry or fear or anxiety, then it can be fun to throw out ideas and see how I like them. When I am stressed, my voice becomes unreasonable and strange, then it often takes a self-intervention to get me back on track- that’s why I’ve designed my day to hold at least three opportunities for those.

The first one is my walk/shower time. It’s usually when I’m always alone and can check in. I do this thing when the water hits my skin: “I’m clean, and this water is a gift.” Corny? Maybe, but it works for me.

The second is my meditation time in the afternoon- and always before a nap, if I have one (I lived in Italy for five years, and the native habit has sort of stuck with me). If I can calm down and check in with my breath, my first question is “How’s it going?” and then I meditate on my mantra: “nothing can go wrong”.

The third is when I get into bed or just before I get ready to sleep. I make a mental list of three things I’m grateful for that day (sometimes I write it down) mull things over a while and then I say, “Okay God, it’s your world, I’m going to bed.” (Pope John XXIII gets credit for the idea behind that one).

But there are those times when my talking to myself gets out of control with stress, worry, anxiety and fear, sometimes anger. It seems like my safeguards slip easily away and the stress trap is sprung. It seems. Because these daily routines create something- something that kicks in like an extra immune system sensing diphtheria. Organic and instinctual. And because I do these things, my response time is shorter, my time wallowing is lessened, and I’m less convinced I’m crazy for talking to myself. I have learned that when I’m feeling trapped to remember that I built the cage, and, like every architect, I know the secret strengths and weaknesses of my creation- I know how to get out. It just may take some time.

It just doesn’t take as long as it used to.