Mindfulness and meditation

Mindfulness has become a buzzword, not only in psychotherapy, but in the mass media. Mindfulness is when you “stop and smell the roses.” Some people are making a lot of money marketing mindfulness training, but learning to practice it costs nothing beyond an investment of your time. An age-old Asian aphorism is that the mind is like a drunken monkey bitten by a scorpion. One of the benefits of this time investment is learning to tame your monkey mind.

Fritz Perls said that past and future are fictions: our lives are spent exclusively in the here-and-now. Buddhism teaches that all suffering arises from attachments, and in that regard it correlates to cognitive behavioral therapy. Self-talk is like a constant mental radio broadcast that most people don’t know how to turn off, as much as they might wish to sometimes. In my career I’ve had many clients who lived their lives in thrall to their frequent or constant irrational thoughts. Learning meditation gives you a way to turn off the mental radio at will.

Mindfulness is a kind of meditation that’s always available to us. It doesn’t require silence, or sitting in the lotus position, or chanting, or concentrating on a mandala, or doing yoga breathing – although all of these practices are valid methods  for learning to meditate.  Mindfulness simply means getting out of your head and being fully present in the here-and-now, the only time there is, without letting your mind wander and without making judgments.

Before I specifically get into mindfulness further, I’ll first share my understanding of meditation in general. I learned to meditate in grad school, and found that there are many methods for learning to stay in a meditative state of consciousness, some of which I listed above. I’ve experienced two distinct levels of meditation. I started out with what I call single-pointed meditation, which means learning to focus on a single thing – a candle flame in a darkened room, a mantra (chant), focusing on your breathing to the exclusion of all other thought. Unrelated thoughts will inevitably intrude, but with practice you can learn to ignore them, let them go, and return your focus to the single point. At first it’s a balancing act, like walking a mental tightrope. When you first realize that you’ve achieved a meditative state, you think “I’m meditating!”, but the instant you think that, you’re not – you’re thinking again. With sufficient practice you can lengthen the time you stay in the meditative state, and develop confidence in your ability to meditate whenever you choose to.

Once I’d learned to stay focused on one thing exclusively, without letting my mind wander to other things, I was able to move on to a new level of meditation – pure awareness. I learned that it’s possible to be awake and aware, without being aware of any thing. Learning to suspend object-consciousness and judgement is a liberation. You can tame your monkey mind, turn off the mental radio. The silence is golden. It’s a distinct state of consciousness that teaches you what thinking cannot teach. It calms the body and the mind.

Mindfulness is a kind of single-pointed meditative state. You can be mindful while performing a task, taking a walk, taking a bath, having a conversation, doing Tai Chi, or standing in a crowd. You can be mindful of your self-talk. Mindfulness means staying focused on your here-and-now experience, to the exclusion of extraneous thoughts and without making judgments like good/bad, beautiful/ugly, or right/wrong.

Many times in public I’ve played a mindful game with myself, a game that teaches me things about my ordinary (non-mindful) consciousness and my monkey  mind. Normally when I’m in public, people-watching, I’m constantly categorizing and judging and speculating about all the people I see: whether or not I find them attractive, whether they’re fat or thin, graceful or clumsy, whether  they seem smart or dumb, likeable or unlikeable, etc.  Sometimes when I catch myself making these instant evaluations, I decide to play “the Buddha game.” I mindfully suspend my monkey mind and imagine that everybody I see is a Buddha – perfect, God in disguise. Just as I believe that meditation has changed my ordinary consciousness over time, I believe that playing the Buddha game has helped me to be less judgmental and more compassionate.

Mindfulness training is at the core of Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT), a highly effective therapy developed by Dr. Marsha Linehan to treat people who meet the diagnostic criteria for Borderline Personality Disorder. While she was devising the core strategies of DBT, Dr. Linehan studied meditation with a Catholic priest in a contemplative order and with a zen master. The people for whom DBT was designed tend to be extremely judgmental (of themselves and others) and emotionally volatile. Dr. Linehan became convinced that practicing mindfulness would help them to find balance in their deeply conflicted lives. Having co-led DBT skills training groups and seeing first-hand the effectiveness of mindfulness training, I believe that it’s beneficial for mentally ill people with other diagnoses, too. But as I’ve said many times, you don’t have to be sick to get better. Mindfulness is a learnable practice that can improve your life, if you invest some time in it.

 

Effective communication and “fair fighting”

I wrote in my last post that I’d share my “fair fighting rules” for couples in a later post. I’m feeling on a roll with the topic of effective communication, so here goes. Arguments inevitably arise in all long-term committed relationships. They can be constructive or destructive. As a therapist, I coached individuals and couples in communicating effectively and avoiding destructive disputes. The successful use of these guidelines depends on good faith between the persons involved, meaning that neither partner tries to dominate the discussion, and both want there to be a positive outcome, based on honest communication. In honest, good faith disputes between equal partners, there doesn’t have to be a winner and a loser. (In game theory an I win/you lose interaction is known as a “zero sum game.”)  It’s possible to “win all the battles, but lose the war.” If you follow some basic rules, a disagreement is more likely to lead to a win/win outcome.

(1) Be mindful. Stay in the here-and-now and be aware of your emotions. (2) No attacks, threats or generalized judgments. Easy to say, but if you’re both mindful and acting in good faith, you can avoid these traps. (3) Be an active listener, with one person talking at a time. Don’t interrupt. Each of you gets to express yourself, each of you wants to be understood. (4) One topic at a time. Don’t drag in other issues or stuff from the past. (5) Try to express yourself in I-statements. You-statements, especially generalizations, tend to lead to defensiveness and denials. If you say, “I think/feel/want _____,” the other person can’t contradict you, can’t say “No you don’t.” I-statements invite understanding and empathy. (6) Avoid generalizations, often characterized by “always” and “never,” or  “should.” If you’re critical of something about your partner, try to frame it constructively. (7) Be assertive. Clearly state what you want/don’t want, or what you mean. Don’t expect your partner to read your mind. (8) Don’t miss opportunities to validate, or to acknowledge your understanding of, your partners feelings or point of view. What’s your common ground? Try to understand your partner’s position and express any empathy you may feel. (9) Avoid questions-that-aren’t-really-questions. They’re usually characterized by “why”s, such as “Why don’t you ever listen to me?” This is actually a statement (“You never listen to me.”) phrased as if it were a question. There is no answer to this emotionally-loaded pseudo-question that would satisfy the asker, because it’s not really a question. (10) If appropriate, turn the tables. Ask, “What do you think we need to do?”

I had the professional privilege of working in a Dialectical Behavior Therapy (DBT) program for two years. DBT programs are designed to treat people diagnosed with Borderline Personality Disorder. The program I worked in was run by Dr. Shari Manning, who studied with Dr. Marsha Linehan, creator of DBT. I spoke briefly with Dr. Linehan at a professional conference years ago and mentioned that I’d worked in a DBT program under Shari’s supervision, to which she replied, “You’re a lucky man.” And indeed I was. My participation in the DBT program at Columbia Area Mental Health Center was a great opportunity for professional development. Working in a DBT program requires adherence to a model and methodology as precise and rigorous as psychoanalysis. You have to follow fixed protocols and work within a peer consultation team that supports and guides your work with this very challenging population.

I’ll get into DBT in more detail over time, but suffice it to say for now, DBT programs teach specific skills to people who frequently have difficulty with relationships. For two years I co-led DBT skills training groups, and worked individually with clients in the program, coaching them in the use of the skills. One of the skills modules is interpersonal effectiveness. For now I won’t go into the acronym DEAR MAN that DBT uses as a mnemonic device, but will briefly describe the process that it outlines. First, you strive to be mindful and stay in the here-and-now. If necessary, you describe the situation or set the context. You express your feelings and/or opinions, then assert yourself, asking for what you want or saying “no” to something you don’t want. Next you try to say something positive, if only to express your appreciation that you were listened to.

An interpersonally effective communication might go something like this: “We’ve been friends for a while now and you’ve helped me when I needed it. I value your friendship and I hope we stay friends. But I can’t hang out with you when you’re drinking anymore. You know I’m going to meetings and trying to stay clean and sober. It’s not that you get obnoxious when you’re drinking, like some people. You can be lots of fun when you’re high, but I just can’t risk getting triggered and relapsing. You don’t drink during the day, so we can meet for lunch. Or if you want to try quitting again, maybe we can go to meetings together, and hang out over coffee afterward. You’re really a special person and I want you in my life, but my sobriety has got to come first.”

The speaker  here is attempting to preserve the relationship, but setting clear boundaries. She’s specifying the conditions under which they’ll meet in the future, without attacking or judging or blaming. In some interpersonal exchanges, a willingness to compromise is called for, but not in this case. Whether or not the relationship survives, the communication will have been effective. Effective communication is a learnable skill set.