June 2011 Archives

We've all received countless messages throughout our lives telling us that the goal is to be somebody.  It's the American Dream.  We get it from the media, from our families and our friends.  So many of us have aligned ourselves with a particular track that provides assurance that we will be somebody, get somewhere--and hopefully be afforded immunity from trouble, despair, or vulnerability in the process.
 
Of course there is nothing wrong with having goals or plans.  In fact, these are rather good things.  It's when we use these aspirations to try to overcome ourselves that it gets tricky.  So far as I know, we can't out-run our own feet. We can't out-think our own brains. We can't override this human operating system that we live and breath in every hour of every day.  I know this, because I've tried.
 
I have spent at least half of my life obtaining 3 college degrees, going on meditation retreats, taking yoga classes, trying to eat healthfully, following my spiritual path, writing a book, starting a private practice and after all of this--I discovered that I am still ME.  This may not seem very shocking to you, but I have to admit it was sort of a revelation!  Wasn't I going to leave some of my neurosis back there on that meditation cushion, or in a downward dog, or in a journal entry, or on my therapist's couch?  Even though I love my life and feel as though I am on the right path, I have been pursuing these things with the idea that someday I would be better.
 
Many of my clients in psychotherapy have a similar story to tell ... Maybe if I was thin, pretty, enlightened, funny, smart, had a boyfriend/girlfriend, was richer, less anxious, less fearful, less of ME then I would be happy: forever.  Individuals in recovery can be especially susceptible to this booby trap, for after all, the inner feel-good junkie doesn't surrender that easily.
 
I often tell my clients that I wish I had a magic wand that could be waved over all of our heads, rendering us free from the entanglements that life brings. But I don't have such magical powers. And the strange thing is that somewhere along the way I have started to recognize that this is actually a blessing. Having such powers (and using them to this aim) would mean that I have bought into the crazy idea that each and every one of us is damaged goods.  That we need to change.  That we aren't good enough.  That we can't manage whatever is happening in our lives. And I don't want to buy into that story.  I want Thomas Merton's idea that the best I can do is to be the best version of me--in all my imperfect glory.  Here is one of my favorite quotes by him:
 
"Finally I am coming to the conclusion that my highest ambition is to be what I already am. That I will never fulfill my obligation to surpass myself unless I first accept myself, and if I accept myself fully in the right way, I will already have surpassed myself."

I want to love all my mistakes, all my blemishes, and all my fears.  They are the very things that propel me forward, keep it interesting, and most importantly connect me to you.  They are integral aspects of who I am.  What I really long for, is integrity (integration and wholeness) and I can only achieve that by reading the whole story, not by skipping to the finish line where I finally arrive somewhere (whatever that means).
 
I hope that you might step into the fullness of who you already are today. No matter what your life looks like, or what you wish it could be. Pause and take a deep breath and find one thing you are grateful for about this circumstance, this moment, and your relationship to it. Remember that there is no one else exactly like you. I believe that is an amazingly wonderful gift worth celebrating. We may not have a magic wand that provides the ability to transcend the human condition, but maybe that's the real magic--learning how to live within the mystery, within the chaos, within the ever-unfolding version of yourself that simultaneously remains uniquely, irreplaceably, You.

Ingrid Mathieu, PhD is a psychotherapist and author of Recovering Spirituality: Achieving Emotional Sobriety in Your Spiritual Practice.

What is Emotional Sobriety?
 
Some might think that it means being "happy, joyous, and free," a common adage in 12-Step meetings, taken from AA literature.  Of course, people like this definition. It means that if they work a good program, they will achieve physical sobriety (abstinence) and become happy in the process.
 
I hate to be the bearer of bad news but this definition puts a lot of recovering people in a tough spot.  For example, what does it say about a person's emotional sobriety if they are having a hard time? What if they are afraid, anxious, sad, angry, confused ... the list can go on and on. Does this mean that they aren't emotionally sober?
 
I believe that emotional sobriety is less about the quality of the feeling ("good" or "bad") and more about the general ability to feel one's feelings. Someone recently said that being restored to sanity isn't about getting the brass ring--or cash and prizes--or being "happy, joyous, and free," but it is about being in the present moment, whatever it happens to look like.  What are you experiencing right now?  And how about now?  Can you be present to all of your feelings without any one of them defining you?
 
Sometimes emotional sobriety is about tolerating what you are feeling.  It is about staying sober no matter what you are feeling.  It means that you don't have to blame yourself or your program because life can be challenging. It means that you don't necessarily need to do something to make the feeling go away.  Many people will take their bad feeling and try to pray it, meditate it, service it, spiritually distract themselves from it, thinking that this means they are working a good program. This experience is actually called spiritual bypass.
 
John Welwood coined the term spiritual bypass and defined it as "using spiritual ideas and practices to sidestep personal, emotional 'un-finished business,' to shore up a shaky sense of self, or to belittle basic needs, feelings, and developmental tasks, all in the name of enlightenment." The shorthand for spiritual bypass is when a person wears a mask or presents a false spiritual self that represses aspects of that person's true self. Spiritual bypass involves bolstering our defenses rather than our humility. Bypass involves grasping rather than gratitude, arriving rather than being, avoiding rather than accepting.
 
I am forever interested in how mind, body, and spirit interact for people in recovery and how the "ism" (alcoholism) is always trying to steal the show.  "Ism" doesn't want you to acknowledge that you are scared, ashamed, lost, or angry.  And let's face it, some people in recovery don't want you to acknowledge that either.  Because then they would have to look at that stuff (and feel it), and they just might not be ready.  So spiritual bypass becomes a tool for working a spiritual program that is really in service of controlling obstacles and outcomes. It provides the illusion that the addict can still manage their feelings even though they aren't using their drug of choice.
 
In my own spiritual journey, I have experienced spiritual bypass many times. As a defense mechanism, we are all susceptible to this unconscious drive to protect ourselves from our painful realities. And using spirituality as a defense certainly looks a lot better than using drugs or alcohol. But it is a defense mechanism nonetheless and most people in recovery want the ability to access all of their feelings, because being present to what is real is what enables choices, and choices propel people towards their most authentic and fulfilling sober life.
 
I have spent a great deal of time studying and researching the experience of spiritual bypass in 12-Step recovery. I've written a book called Recovering Spirituality: Achieving Emotional Sobriety in Your Spiritual Practice that goes into great depth on this topic. Every person in recovery who I have interviewed or worked with in my psychotherapy practice has gained tremendous insight by looking at their own experiences of spiritual bypass and I hope that you will gain similar results. If nothing else, give yourself permission to feel all of your feelings. Know that we don't have the sort of surgical precision to only feel the feelings that we enjoy. Happiness might be sitting right next to regret, elated might be right next to overwhelmed. That is just the human condition. And experiencing all of our feelings is true emotional sobriety.


Ingrid Mathieu, PhD is a psychotherapist and author of Recovering Spirituality: Achieving Emotional Sobriety in Your Spiritual Practice.