Getting Unstuck – ver 311

Getting Unstuck – ver 311

butterfly

Thanks to the beautiful watercolor by the artist Kristin Malin from Georgetown, Maine

So many people, including my very humble self, can find ourselves getting caught in cycles of feeling stuck, frustrated when we can’t seem to change things inside or outside us.

Actually the truthful statement is that we don’t “feel” stuck.  When we’re in that spot it feels “real,”  unchangeable. 

I’ve explored this topic many times over the years  (see more links at the bottom of the article.)

This revisiting happened after taking a workshop with Deb Dana, the Neuroscience Translator who lives and teaches neuroscience in Maine.   There was a moment during the workshop where my brain cells lit up (okay, I don’t really know if they did but it certainly felt that way.)  It was when Deb was teaching about the left and right hemispheres of the brain.

Deb described the closed loop we can get in, when we’re stuck in a story about life and can’t get out of it.  The left hemisphere holds that piece as the “truth,”  focusing in on it, ruminating about it, going deeper into it but because there’s no new material within that closed loop there’s nowhere to go but keep running the  hamster wheel.

What we need in those moments, and probably want least of all things, is to add more material from the right hemisphere, meaning we need to add in sensory data, emotional experiences, the kinds of things that are often non-verbal, without narrative memory.  This is where we tend to have a “Oh no.  Not that!” moment.

 All of us are scared when we face the unknown.  We need a map to enter the territory with some ease.

The map helps a lot.  We also need a thimble.

What?  A thimble?

We need to know how to enter this dark, untamed right hemisphere with a thimble where we can take a thimble full of “stuff” to look at, feel, explore, sense, and discover. 

If we take too much right hemisphere material at one time we often feel overwhelmed and decide then and there to NEVER go back to that space again.

Another good metaphor is dipping a toe into the pool/ocean to test the water before we completely submerge ourselves.

This is the translation process that happens between the right and left hemispheres.  Our left brain takes this undigested right sensorial, non-verbal material and makes sense of it.  That allows us to feel safer and more able to take another thimble-full of the right brain “stuff” and actually feel it in our bodies.

Hmmm.  Not so bad, we say to ourselves.

That’s certainly the dance we do in the therapy hour but it’s also the dance we want to keep engaging in during our daily life.

Oh, there’s so much to say on this, but I have made a commitment to keep the ezines shorter.  With that in mind, here’s a practice to try.

What affective, emotional, sensory material inside are you a bit hesitant to enter?

  • Where is it in your body?  How does it announce its existence to you?
  • Would it help to write about it, draw it out?
  • How can you get as close to it as you can inside your own body?
  • The task is to hold on to your left hemisphere (watching, observing, noticing) as you enter into this right material (feelings, senses, maybe inchoate memory)?

Take only a tiny piece of it.

Then sit back and meta-process, meaning now that you’ve had the experience marvel at what you found, see if you can see it from other perspectives, wonder about it?  Why did this happen?  What might have helped it move into place?

And the most important thing, I should have said before, is to keep your attention in your heart as you explore into any of this material.  That opens the doorway for your compassion to flow and your body to stay at ease.

Want more on the topic?  https://dfay.com/archives/2910; https://dfay.com/archives/2461; http://dfay.com/archives/2002; https://dfay.com/changing-perspective-getting-unstuck-using-deb-koffmans-love-hate-installation; https://dfay.com/archives/1575; https://dfay.com/archives/1211; https://dfay.com/archives/1053; https://dfay.com/archives/213