Emotional sobriety is about finding and maintaining our emotional equilibrium – our feeling rheostat that helps us adjust the intensity of our emotional responses to life. (It) is tied up in our ability to self-regulate and to bring ourselves into and maintain our balance.
Tian Dayton, Emotional Sobriety
Pain changes shape, but it never disappears. You can’t control what hurts or breaks you, but you can control how you choose to move forward… Every moment in your life is an opportunity to change who you are. Don’t define yourself by what you lost, but by what you do with what’s left.
Keanu Reeves
Between stimulus and response there is a space. In that space is our power to choose our response. In our response lies our growth and our freedom.
Viktor Frankl
We often cannot avoid triggers, but we can change the way we deal with them.
Big Red Book of ACA, pg. 253
A young boy lies, motionless, in bed, in that mysterious twilight zone between wakefulness and sleep. Entranced, he is bereft of any sense of agency while fully sensitive to the energies which envelope him.
In his mind’s eye he sees a pool of water, so still that it resembles a mirror. It is surrounded by scenery so familiar to him: low-lying blanket bog, with the rounded slopes of desolate mountains off in the distance, to the east. Summer sunlight filters through the canopy of Atlantic clouds racing inland in unison, casting a delightful dappled pattern on the vast landscape.
He is alone. Silence suffuses the scene, punctuated only by rare bursts of intermittent birdsong, birds heard but not seen. There is an eerie mood of foreboding in this tranquility, danger lurking in its depths.
Tiny ripples begin to appear on the water’s surface. Almost imperceptible at first, gaining very gradually in momentum. The silence is now broken by the faint stirring of the waters. Time passes ever so slowly.
Ripples increase fractionally in both frequency and strength. Eventually, in the steadily increasing commotion, the dark waters begin to heave and rush. The sound of the boy’s heavy breathing is now drowned out by the din of the torrent.
No longer simply observing from above, he now feels pulled along by the current, unable to steer or rein in the forces that carry him along. He is caught up in the volatile current, growing ever stronger, in trepidation as to what lies ahead, what awaits downstream.
His is petrified, unable to make even the slightest sound as he attempts to cry for help. He screams but no sound emerges from his mouth. Viewing himself from above, he is a witness to his own muted attempts to attract attention. Subject, object, and witness of this scene of terror become fused. He is carried along, powerless to protect himself or to influence his impending doom.
He is completely at the mercy of events he does not comprehend. The power of the spate, now immense, increases exponentially. He feels tiny, like a pinhead in a forcefield of galactic proportions. Facing annihilation, he resigns himself to his fate, mourning his inability to save himself and the absence of protection. He is alone. His guardian angels have abandoned him.
He comes to with a start. Panting, sweating, exhausted. On finding his bearings, a deep wave of grief and shame comes over him. There must be something about him that has brought this on. He wishes he were far away…..
This is my attempt to put the indescribable into words. This state, (I labelled it `The Glimpse´), is something I experienced almost daily as a child, over many years. There was never the language or the opportunity to convey to my parents or caregivers what was going on. It remained my secret burden, casting a shadow on my waking hours, since experience had shown that it was bound to return once more before the day was done.
Several decades later I discovered a formal term for such experiences. In adult language, they are called panic attacks.
Speaking of words, a new word entered my vocabulary this week. When this happens, it is always a cause for celebration. I love words, and the creative potential which language provides in helping us to share with one another what is going on. The word in questions is `Rheostat´. It can be found in the quotation above from Tian Dayton’s wonderful book, `Emotional Sobriety´, published in 2007.
The word thermostat, which was already familiar to me, came to mind immediately, so it must have something to do with regulation. The thermostat regulates temperature, after all. But a consultation with my good linguistic friend and companion, the Merriam-Webster online dictionary, was necessary to get to the bottom of this new discovery.
Here we read that `rheo-´ refers to flow or current. This made sense in the context of the quote which refers to our feeling rheostat, i.e. the mechanism whereby we regulate our emotions. There was an etymological reference which included `stream´ in the dictionary entry, as follows: Middle English streme, from Old English strēam; akin to Old High German stroum stream, Greek rhein to flow.
This was the moment of synchronicity. Rhein.
My home is situated within five minutes walk of the largest river in northwestern Europe, the Rhine. We have become good friends. Most of my daily physical exercise takes place along the banks of this majestic river.
Since my move to the Rhineland some years ago, the inner work of growing towards emotional sobriety has become an important factor in my life.
Emotional sobriety is an extension and deepening of the sobriety I had initially discovered twenty years earlier, on reaching out for help to confront a condition which had been ruining my life since my late teens, alcoholism.
Like many of my contemporaries, my life has been shaped by the challenging experience of growing up in an environment in which, for reasons beyond my comprehension, I never felt truly safe. My coping mechanisms, even from the earliest years, included resignation and escapism.
This led to fleeing reality with the help of daydreaming, a major childhood preoccupation, and people pleasing. This was later augmented by the abuse of alcohol, other substances, and process addictions such as workaholism. The common denominator is that they are all forms of emotional self-medication, well suited to keeping me at a safe distance from my feelings.
In today’s fellowships of recovery, underpinned by Twelve Steps first formulated in the 1930s by the founders of AA, we often hear: `The good news is, we get our feelings back. The bad news is, we get our feelings back.´
This brings me to the rheostat. On emerging into adulthood, mine seemed to be missing. The panic attacks are a testament to this. In recovery, we address such issues. Once we abstain from the cruder forms of emotional self-medication, we can begin to learn to self-regulate.
My early years were undoubtedly overshadowed by what led to the panic attacks described above. Therapists have suggested it might have to do with my experience in the birth channel. Others suggest it might have been a traumatic experience, physical, emotional, or spiritual, in my early years. The honest answer is that there is still no clear answer.
Gradually my focus has shifted away from the cause, more towards what can be done today to overwrite the script which became so deeply ingrained on my psyche in early life. This is where emotional sobriety and mental fitness come in.
In this, two modalities, in particular, have proven very beneficial.
The first is the programme of recovering from alcoholism using the Twelve Steps. It is upon this bedrock that my new life is built. AA has spawned many fellowships since its foundation, one of which is Adult Children of Alcoholics (ACA). Designed in the 1970’s for anyone wishing to recover from growing up in a dysfunctional family, the ACA adaptation of the original Twelve Steps has also been very helpful to me in recent years.
A key element of this process is learning to get to know, embrace, and accept ourselves as we truly are, to connect with our Inner Child and to provide that aspect of ourselves with what was needed but not sufficiently provided in the early years. Called `re-parenting´ this practice enables the long-suppressed childhood wounds to come out of hiding and receive the treatment (now from our adult selves) they need to heal.
`They really know how to push my buttons!´ How often have we said this to ourselves or heard others say it?
The buttons are the triggers of repressed memories or resentments that have been stored in our mind and body since childhood. The process of repression is carried out, not consciously, but `underground´ so to say, by our autonomic nervous system.
This automated dynamic is intended to protect us in the given moment. As such, it works. While we may wish to be forever rid of our stressful experiences and fears, they have a way of bubbling up to the surface later in life so they can be embraced and healed.
Without a sufficient degree of Mental Fitness, however, when someone says or does something that awakens those memories, the battle begins. It is as if these old memories and resentments are on standby just below the surface of awareness, waiting to get out, waiting for us to finally deal with them.
Unlike most other recovery programs, ACA encourages us to uncover (discover, recover) those memories and resentments and put them on the table in a safe and loving environment. In doing so, the miracle begins to happen. We realise that, because we are really pushing the buttons, the remedy lies within us. We can learn new responses and thus free ourselves from the old scripts.
Like vampires caught out by the first rays of light at dawn, the default reactions begin to lose their power, and we gradually find that we can, in fact, deal with them differently, without feeling as helpless and overwhelmed as we did when they originated. We now learn to regulate our feelings, emotions, thoughts, and actions. This becomes the core of the new practice of self-care.
We begin to cultivate resilience. Much like the Japanese art of kintsugi, our scars are not the final product of childhood experience, but a vital part of our development. Our wounds transform into strengths, just as cracks repaired with gold make an object more beautiful and unique. Through the process of owning and transcending our wounds, we become stronger and more vibrant.
The second invaluable resource in growing towards emotional sobriety is the PQ Mental Fitness modality, developed in recent years by Shirzad Chamine and the Positive Intelligence Team in San Francisco. PQ is based on the observation that all human activity is driven by one of two primal forces: fear or love.
If we are honest, many of us would admit to living in a state of on-going war, a war between these two primal forces that shape the human condition.
PQ is a Mental Fitness programme designed to enable us to first shift from fear to love and ultimately to transcend our fears. This is achieved, in the first step, by means of intercepting the agents of fear (Saboteurs) before they can hijack us.
We can then shift to and cultivate the emissaries of love (Sage Powers) to craft a viable alternative response to whatever stimulus we encounter. The third element of PQ is the Mind Command muscle which facilitates this switch, gradually at first, and, with increased daily practice, eventually in real time.
All Saboteurs are rooted in fear – fear of failure, poverty, abandonment, rejection, harm, humiliation, of not mattering, and ultimately fear of death.
On the other hand, the Sage operates entirely on love. The Sage Perspective (`everything can be turned into a gift and opportunity´) is based on love for the unfolding mystery of life. It is the love of finding the gift in whatever happens.
The five Sage Powers are Empathize (love of yourself and others), Explore (love of discovery), Innovate (love of possibilities), Navigate (love of meaning and purpose), and Activate (love of making things happen).
Fear does serve a purpose which is to alert us to danger so that we can take timely, appropriate action. Getting stuck in the vortex of fear, however, is not conducive to reaching our full human potential.
It is now clear that the panic attacks of my childhood were just such a vortex. As can be expected at that age, I did not have the capacity to regulate my feelings. Those caregivers who would ideally have assisted me in learning this skill by modelling such behaviour and providing the necessary protection and emotional cradling were either absent or incapacitated. The inner work of recent years has enabled me to make peace with that reality, free of blame, guilt, or shame.
Resources are available to me today which temper the need for resignation, escapism, or dissociation. To paraphrase Shirzad Chamine: Whenever you feel any negative emotion, ranging from anxiety and stress to anger, shame, guilt, or blame, intercept the Saboteur(s). Then pause (by doing PQ Reps to activate Mind Command muscle), then choose to shift to Sage.
Ask yourself what gifts and opportunities might be concealed in this situation. Next, explore, with deep compassion, what the underlying fear(s) might be. Then choose something to love instead by selecting the most appropriate Sage Power(s) to deal with what is in front of you, as you complete the shift to Sage.
The Twelve Steps and PQ are self-actualization programmes of action. Unlike theories for enlightenment, they are practices for growth, which, with grace, patience, and fortitude, can be integrated into daily life. Practice makes progress.
Both programmes enable us to attain and maintain the balance so fundamental to healthy living. Applied in combination, their power far exceeds the sum of their respective parts.
