…more on Self-Love

IMG_0262

 

Imagine this: you know a person for about 20 years. During that time, this person has consistently treated you with negativity: dismissing you, abusing you, shaming you, humiliating you, calling you all sorts of names and using all sorts of demeaning words to describe you. And then one day, that person turns around and says, “I love you”. Literally, WTF? How would you respond to such a person?

I don’t know about you, but I doubt that I would be able to trust them in any way. Or even accept what they had to say, no matter how kind or loving. How does a person go from such an extreme to the other? And to expect the words to sound true and authentic? What kind of sick mind game is that? I would need some serious behavioural and emotional consistency to be able to change my mind about that person!

And yet, dear readers, this is exactly the type of sick mind games we play on ourselves.

I had a very profound epiphany recently, inspired by someone else’s therapeutic process. The situation described above? This is any person who struggles with self-love. The other person? It’s me. It’s you. It’s us. It’s us, against us! It’s you, against you! It’s me, against me! As mean and horrible as anyone can be against someone else, there is hardly any greater harm than the one we inflict on ourselves. By dismissing ourselves, abusing ourselves, shaming ourselves, humiliating ourselves, calling ourselves names and demeaning terms, accepting this from others around us, and ourselves. Believing the narrative that we are not enough, not worthy, not lovable.

Do you ever wonder why it’s so difficult to actually love yourself? How long have you spent doing all of the above against yourself? Really, think about it. Think about your greatest wounds, your greatest difficulties. What have you called yourself in relation to them? And for how long? And how much have you believed these names and this narrative about yourself? How insidious are these beliefs?

Whilst most of my core wounds were initially inflicted on me by someone else, the fact that I then went on to believe certain things about myself, is, unfortunately, all on me. I believed it, I perpetuated it, I lived it. The seeds of my main insecurities and wounds were planted by someone else, but I happily went along with it, and watered them until they grew strong and rooted. This is why it’s hard to change aspects of oneself: time. With some of my “stuff”, I have spent a good two decades perpetuating it, triggering it, making it bigger, turning it darker.

Time goes by so slowly, when you finally accept and decide that you want to change and become a better version of yourself, and to love yourself. Alongside my recent epiphany, I realised that the sole reason why I find it difficult to fully love myself, and to accept love from others, is that I don’t trust myself and others. But this is where it gets a bit tricky: over the years, I have received both negative and positive criticism, but I chose to believe the negative. Why is that? Why do we do this? Why, if there is evidence of both love and hate in our lives, do we find it so much easier to accept the hate?

I’m currently reading a really interesting book called Letting Go, by David R. Hawkins, where the author has managed to rank emotions based on the energy they emit, their vibration. Don’t ask me exactly how he has done this, but it actually makes perfect sense to me. Emotions like shame, fear, grief, guilt, anger, are all on a lower scale, and therefore easier to reach, as they require less effort to both experience and maintain. I mean, wouldn’t you say on a practical level, that feeling shame is actually much easier than feeling love or joy? It would follow that the same goes for life narratives and self-beliefs. It is easier to accept the negative ones.

And if you consider the amount of time you have spent criticising yourself, versus the amount of time you have spent loving yourself, you may begin to get a glimpse of the journey ahead of you. For me, even the thought of saying “I love myself” out loud, makes my eyes spontaneously roll a dozen times! It’s clear and absolute cynicism on my part. Because let’s face it: the other main aspect of loving myself is the fact that I will have to let go of all these narratives that I have believed, reinforced, and lived. The narratives that say that I’m not good enough, or worthy, or lovable. I spent my teenage years believing and telling myself that I was unworthy, and then I spent my 20s believing and telling myself that I was damaged. Why did I expect that at 30, when I have finally decided that I’ve had enough of these narratives, that I can suddenly believe a new one? I certainly believe that I can do it, but I also know that this won’t happen overnight. Why would I suddenly believe that I love myself, when I have spent the last two decades believing, doing, and acting otherwise?

It’s not all doom and gloom, however. From my own personal experiences of healing, and being a therapist to many, many clients, this is something that I have learned: if I choose to spend more time focusing on my positive traits, on positive narratives, on positive evidence of love, affection, and joy, then the negative ones will inevitably become weaker. Because that which we focus on, grows. This is why exploring one’s past traumas and wounds is a very delicate process. One needs to accept and investigate certain life events, but do it too often or too deeply, and you’re actually reinforcing the experiences, rather than healing them. Shining light on something painful is often the first big step. Accepting that it happened is the second. Exploring the emotional aftermath is the third, and letting go is the fourth. Once we have truly let go of something, once we have truly surrendered, that thing no longer has power over us.

This is what I’m currently working on: exploring and letting go of the patterns and narratives of self-hate. Letting go of unworthiness and feeling damaged. This is difficult because I’m under the wrong impression that I’ve lived with these for longer than I’ve lived with messages of love, including self-love. But if I’m really honest with myself, I can easily go back in time and pull out plenty of evidence that, in fact, I’m worthy and have been immensely loved throughout my life. The difficulty lies in letting go of this warped version of my life which I have been holding on to, because it feeds into the shame, fear, and victimhood of my own ego, which as I’ve mentioned earlier, are much easier to connect to than the higher frequency emotions of love and joy.

But isn’t the rest so much better? Aren’t love and joy so much better than shame and fear? All the people that I’ve met and deeply bonded with, all the places that I’ve lived in and visited, all the amazing experiences I’ve had? Yes, they are immensely better. And as I move forward in my quest to live in a more loving and kinder narrative of my own life, these are the experiences that I need to focus on and these are the stories that I need to remember and re-tell, because they will allow me to raise the frequency and vibration of emotions that I experience on a daily basis, and ultimately be able to love myself without spontaneously rolling my eyes at the thought or feeling of self-love.

 

Ryan Campinho Valadas

W: http://www.thehealingcontinuum.com/
E: info@thehealingcontinuum.com

Advertisements

…on Family

holding-hands

Christmas has now passed and being with family in my home country, has made me quite reflective about families in general, and mine in particular. I read yesterday morning – Christmas Day – that the sacred book of the Zohar, used by students of Kabbalah and orthodox factions of the Jewish faith alike, actually says something along the lines of “Who needs enemies when you have family and relatives?” That’s probably a comment and reflection on how dysfunctional biblical families are, but it resonated deeply with me.

I come from a large family. My mother is one of five siblings, each sibling had two children and so I grew up surrounded by aunts, uncles, and cousins. We all used to live fairly close by to each other, and growing up, the whole family used to get together for everyone’s birthday, Christmas, Easter, and most Sundays. We used to even go on holidays and beach trips together. It was messy, loud, but tons of fun. As everyone grew older, this began to change, as disagreements between grown-ups created irreparable rifts, and family gatherings began to diminish in size. I half-joke about this, but I’ve told my mother that the five siblings will definitely come back together again in their next lives, as there’s no way their souls will resolve their issues in this one. There isn’t a single one of them who currently speaks with the other four. It’s sad, really, but unfortunately, it’s also human.

I’ll admit it, I always had an idyllic and naïve perspective on family, always feeling my family’s many disagreements quite acutely, and always returning home quite excited to see them all. I’m the youngest of 10 cousins, so maybe that’s why. I also ended up being one of the first ones to leave home, at age 17, to go and live in the USA, as part of an academic exchange programme. That was my first, and so far only, Christmas away from my family. In hindsight, calling my family home on Christmas’ Eve and speaking to everyone was quite brutal. I remember hanging up the phone and crying uncontrollably for hours. I vowed to never spend Christmas away from home again. But in the 12 subsequent years of returning home for Christmas, I have noticed this feeling dwindling more and more, as I guess my own notion of family changes.

In the 13 years since leaving home, I have done and been through many experiences, including coming out and changing my first name. These are not small matters. In the beginning, this was a clear break with the past, a fresh start in every possible way. Over time, this “new me” has become “just me”, and the people who have witnessed that process, and been with me through ups and downs, have turned out to be family as I always envisioned it to be. You see, at least for me, the older I got, the more aware I became of others’ expectations of me. Almost as if there were conditions for love and support. Being away from biological family, enhanced my experience of human relationships and dynamics, of true acceptance and belonging. Different people of different cultures will pick up on different signs and behaviours, and being part of a true global family has meant that not many signs have gone unnoticed. I still remember being at some cafeteria in Glasgow, staring into space, when a friend of mine from Japan tells me: “You have so many thoughts running through your mind!” I mean, I’d been doing that for years, and no one had ever noticed that I wasn’t actually staring into empty space, but really travelling through many different thoughts, feelings, situations, etc. A bit of my mask came off right there and then.

And there have been many instances like this over the years. From my Scottish friend, raised in Singapore, showing me complete empathy and no judgement the first time I threw up after drinking too much; to my Spanish-Indian friend who has been my most constant and consistent friend for the past 11 years; from my friend from Hong Kong who shows me the joy of living every time we’re together; to my dearest, dearest flatmate and friend, born in Serbia and raised in Australia, with whom I’ve lived for the past 4 years and with whom I’ve never had a disagreement – we laugh and cry together, we talk about EVERYTHING, and we are absolutely playful and authentic with each other. Alongside these friends, there are many, many others, whom I trust and love with every fiber of my being, and know they feel the same. This was always my vision of what family should be: a group of people who unconditionally support and love each other, have healthy and clear emotional and spiritual boundaries, are able to challenge each other with compassion, and are able to be equally joyful and serious around each other.

For a few years, I thought this was too ambitious, or too idyllic, and that it didn’t exist. I mean, I certainly had no experiences of this in my own family. Why did I think this would be possible? As I changed aspects of my own personality, through spiritual practice and emotional/personal development, I began to meet more and more kindred spirits like the ones I described above. Around 10 years ago, they would come into my life very subtly and very few far and between. As my growth and consciousness expanded, as I reduced chaos in my life, and as I woke up to different realities around me, the more of these wonderful people kept appearing. And lo and behold, I have found my own family and it’s exactly as my vision always pointed me towards. Through this kindred spirit family, I have been healing the core wounds acquired through my biological family. Sometimes it’s hard work, sometimes it feels hopeless, but most times, it feels inspiring, freeing, and above all, loving.

I suspect this experience may be similar to many other people’s experiences around the globe, particularly queer folk, who often grow up in families which don’t accept, understand, or even care for, them. A chosen family is often more powerful, because they represent the healing in relationships, self, and spirit which we all seek. In Kabbalah, we learn that the soul actually chooses the family in which it will be born in a specific lifetime, in order to resolve whatever karma it has from previous lives and overcome this correction. And so, actually, biological families are often the most complex relationships we will ever have, because they represent most aspects of what our souls are here to correct or work through. Talk about baggage!! Biological families are here to show us the way, but their role is not necessarily about being on the actual journey.

This is for the family that comes with me on the actual journey. I love you dearly.

 

Ryan Campinho Valadas
HCPC registered Dramatherapist

W: http://www.thehealingcontinuum.com/
E: info@thehealingcontinuum.com

…on Gardens

Voltaire quote

 

I didn’t know what to write about for this week’s post. In fact, I’m still not exactly sure of where this is going. But I told a friend earlier today that I was struggling with a theme, and she quoted the above phrase to me, from Voltaire’s Candide, which also reminded me of a lyric from a song called Special by Janet Jackson: “You have to learn to water your spiritual garden. Then you will be free”. And a little light bulb went on in my mind. “Let us cultivate our garden.” What does it mean? I see it as focusing on my life, on what I plant in my garden, what grows in it, if I’m able to take care of it, or if I let it die. Am I letting it grow wild, or am I controlling it?

I fall into the trap of comparing my life to other people’s lives all the time. This becomes particularly acute when my own life feels like it’s going astray. And since my life has felt like that for many months, all the way up to only a couple of weeks ago, I’ve been doing this a lot. Looking at other people’s lives. Their jobs. Their relationships. Their successes. Their weddings. Their babies. Their families. Their travels. Their accomplishments. And every single time I looked at these things, I felt worse about myself. I felt lonelier. A bigger failure. Not good enough. And thus a nice little cycle of depression ensued.

When we look at other people’s lives to compare them with ours, we tend to conveniently select the parts which are seemingly perfect and positive. And then we look at our lives and choose to only see the negative and the lack. It’s a funny thing, don’t you think? This tendency to only see the perfect in others and the bad in ourselves. I mean, why is it so difficult to see the good in our lives too? I was recently talking to another friend and telling her about my recent difficulties and the support I have been receiving, but somehow talking about my support in a negative way, as if it was a burden, or something I didn’t deserve. She just said: “Wow, Ryan, I don’t see it that way at all! As you were talking, I just felt how blessed you were to have that support!” This stopped me right in my tracks! There I was, going on and on about how bad I felt about this support I had been receiving, and failing to acknowledge how blessed I was to actually receive that support in the first place!

And why was I failing to see this? Well, I had been looking at everyone else in my life and focusing on their new relationships, their new jobs, their new everything, and feeling like I was missing out on those life experiences, because somehow I didn’t feel good enough to have those things myself. I was looking at their gardens and thinking that grass was definitely greener on their side. Every time we look over the fence to look at other gardens and their greener grass, we are literally turning our backs to our own gardens. We are neglecting our lives. And guess what? Grass will definitely become greener on the other side, because we eventually let our own grass die out, by being so busy looking over the fence. I looked so much at other people’s lives, that I allowed myself to feel bad about my own, because I wasn’t hitting the same goals as everyone else. And I wasn’t just doing this, I was also ignoring what was already happening in my life that was positive, rewarding, and purposeful. I had blessings all around, and I kept missing them.

It’s difficult to stay focused on one’s own garden sometimes. Most of our conditioning is about comparing ourselves to others, measuring up our successes and achievements against the failures of others, and dealing with our shortcomings through unkind and destructive actions. By focusing on comparison we are by default devaluing our own lives. By looking elsewhere and unfavourably comparing ourselves to others, we are really just telling ourselves that what we have is not enough. We all want more for ourselves. And there is nothing wrong with that at all. But is your wanting driven by lack or inspiration? Do you feel resentment and jealously, or compassion and support, when you look over the fence? Do you want to take people down, or do you wish them well?

We will look, and we will compare. Whilst it’s not always useful, since it’s something inevitable about human nature, why not use it to our wellbeing’s advantage? Focus on inspiration, rather than lack. On wishing people well, instead of wishing them bad things. Focus on love, rather than fear. If you think about it, our gardens often die out, or grow out of control, due to our own negligence. We have a part in every single situation in our lives. Even if that part is simply managing our reaction to a crisis.

We can’t expect things to grow, if we don’t take the time to plant them, and then nurture and nourish them as they grow. And we can’t expect things to grow overnight either. Growth takes time, patience, nourishment, care, and love.

Let us cultivate our gardens.

 

Ryan Campinho Valadas
HCPC registered Dramatherapist

W: http://www.thehealingcontinuum.com/
E: info@thehealingcontinuum.com

Deconstructing: Systems

 

fond_power_system

I’ve come to a point in my life where I’m confronting the fact that I’ve always been trying to be part of some kind of establishment, without even actually agreeing with it in the first place!

Why have I done this, in general? But most importantly, why have I done this to myself? Why have I made all these decisions to belong to places, people, and things, that 1) I don’t value, support, or believe in; and 2) don’t value, support, or believe in me? Fake belonging, validation, and low self-worth, that’s why!

Admitting this is not easy. In fact, I’m fucking angry and disappointed at myself. Making all sorts of decisions to please others and get their validation, whilst fooling myself into thinking that this is what I wanted, feels like a damn waste of time and life! Being 30 and realising that my goals and dreams were in direct proportion and relation to my family’s validation of my own “specialness” is quite depressing! I mean, it’s not their fault, and this is definitely not a “blame my parents” kind of blog. I don’t even believe in that. I was the one who accepted the story, believed it, internalised it, and have been living it until now.

A story of perfection. Do you know that it took more than 10 years of formal education for me to even drop below 90% in a test? I remember hearing mentions of “future Dr” from a really young age. Not even for the fact that doctors save lives or anything, it was for the title! People wanted me to have the title. And then I found myself wanting the title. I don’t even know when that transition happened. But it did, and it took until these past two weeks for me to finally ask myself the question: why do I want to be a Dr? For nothing special or that truly matters, that’s the answer.

Allow me to elaborate on that. Whilst I like some material things, I can actually be quite detached from the physical world. Emotions, spirituality, and bigger picture have always been my thing. My own mom sometimes asks me how I can be so detached from family affairs, and my honest answer is that in the grand scheme of things, most human interactions tend to be petty and superficial, including and especially family! I always wanted depth of everything. I never really wanted to just have friends to talk about boys or music, I wanted friends who could talk about how they FELT. I believe everyone has depth, but not everyone can access it. And so, if you can’t access the depth of your feelings, I’m sorry, but we are probably not going to make it as friends, or anything, really.

And this is what struck me this week: my insistence on becoming a Dr at some point in the future had nothing to do with depth. It was superficial, pure and simple. It was simply supposed to feed the image of perfection that I grew up to believe in and have been trying to deconstruct since my early 20s, first through self-destruction, and now through hard and uncomfortable spiritual and emotional work.

As I continue to do this work of deconstructing all these messages and social/cultural/familial conditioning I have received, accepted, and lived with, sometimes it becomes difficult to figure out what is really me and mine, or theirs. However, I can say with some certainty that one of my most genuine qualities and intentions in life is to help others. Again, going back to my earlier mention of depth. I want to help others in the depth of who they are. I think this is why I ended becoming a therapist, after studying so many other things. For example, when I studied Politics and International Relations with the intention to then go and work at the United Nations, I quickly discovered that I could never do that kind of work. The level, extent, and amount of game-playing, bureaucracy, and superficiality were too much for me. I felt that I would never be able to help people the way I felt that I wanted to help people, but also the way I felt people should be helped. Again, depth is my thing! And doing anything other than that, it frankly feels like a waste of my life. That is my integrity right there, and this is where I’ve often come into conflict with systems.

Every single time in my career of supporting and helping others – in its various guises – where I have been confronted with the choice of individual versus system, I have always chosen the individual, and have invariably always been punished by the system. A very practical example: I was working for a community service where I was therapeutically preparing clients for a residential service. The idea behind it was that I had seen clients go into residential services and then drop out within weeks because they couldn’t handle it, for a variety of reasons. So, me being me, I thought: what if I devised a programme where I emotionally prepared clients for their upcoming intensive therapeutic processes, thus giving them a chance to really understand and reflect on themselves, their choices, and their goals, and increase their chance of long-term recovery? In the end, I prepared them so well that the system asked me to stop, because I was hurting the system. Clients were choosing to remain in community services longer, to prepare better, therefore not going into residential services at such high rates. I argued, as I always will, that to me, the individuals are more important than the system, and if it is the system’s duty to care for individuals and the policies aren’t working, then change the policies, not the individuals. I no longer work with that service. And leaving my clients was one of the hardest days of the last few difficult months, because I knew that, deep down, not many people cared for them, in a system that is meant to care for them.

This is my problem with systems and the current paradigm of care: money always ends up hurting people, because people in those systems value money more than people. They value statistics more than people. In fact, my experience of political/egotistical fights within care services, is that the clients are always the ones who suffer the most. They are the last ones to know anything, to be consulted, or even to be considered. I love the work, but I do not enjoy the politics of the work at all. They are superficial and petty. No depth at all. The only thing that kept me going all these years in care services were the clients themselves. Everything else felt completely irrelevant to me. This is how I can tell the intention and integrity of any professional caring for people: how they refer to the people they work with. In the therapeutic world, if I hear a professional referring to people by their diagnoses or symptoms, I immediately know where I stand with that professional: in conflict. I will always defend the person, which actually entails letting go of everything I think I know, and they will always defend their training and profession. When the theory is more important than the person, then that’s another instance of the system taking over the individual.

I’ve always puzzled professionals when I get asked how I measure my clients’ progress. I often answer with “they smile more”. “And they can do their meditations without opening their eyes”, or “they found a safe metaphor for their trauma”. That’s all I need. And I say “all”, because actually I know that this “all” entails very profound and unconscious developments in the psyche, in someone’s heart, in someone’s spirit. It takes great unconscious dynamics to start a session full of anger, sadness, or resentment, and ending it with a genuine smile, and grounded body language. “How can you prove that this is due to your approach?” I used to get all flustered and try to answer this with all sorts of clinical jargon and theory in order to fit in into the clinical establishment of psychological therapies. My answer now? “I don’t need to prove a goddam thing!” My responsibility is to my clients. That’s it. And often, my responsibility is to my clients, despite themselves. The great paradox of therapy is that people will seek the help of a professional and will simultaneously reject it at every chance they can. That’s where the relationship develops.

So, this is what I mean by depth:
Basically, we all do things, simply because we’ve been doing them for a very long time. We developed a pattern out of some kind of need, but most patterns overstay their welcome. Here’s one of my most insidious ones, as an example: I experienced emotional neglect and hurt from men at a young age. So, I stopped trusting certain men to protect myself, but what happened is that I stopped trusting ALL men. However, I was not aware of this, and when I had any kind of relationship with men, I would never be fully myself because I didn’t trust them. I would present a façade, or in the odd circumstance of opening up to someone, I would promptly sabotage that relationship to avoid future pain. I wasn’t even aware that I was doing this!! And I spent YEARS doing this to every single man I met, gay or straight, personal or professional, friend or lover. No trust at all! I became fully and consciously aware of this pattern around the age of 25 or 26, and so, by that time, I had been doing this for 20 years. Most people are like this. We have decades upon decades of patterns which no longer serve us. Layers and layers of feelings, thoughts, sensations, circumstances, conditioning, external messages, all of them covering up the original seed of the pattern.

Now, tell me, in all honesty, do you really think ANYONE on this planet can help you with ALL of that, or something else, in 6 or 12 sessions? Let’s be honest with each other. My clients in addiction services always complained “But I spent 6 months in rehab, why am I still here?” Short answer: because you spent 20 or 30 years doing something, and you are not going to solve all of that in 6 months! I mean, simply look at the time difference! Why do we think this is realistic? Systems all around us tell us that this is the way, and we believe them! Every single time! We believe fast food is good. We believe fast diets are healthy. We believe we can sort through lifelong traumas through short-term therapy. Another example: I received some health news in May 2016, which changed my life. In turn, the news uncovered a deep-seated trauma, which not even 3 years of intensive therapeutic processes during my training had been able to reach. This thing had REALLY carved itself a deep, dark corner in my psyche. I was able to get some therapy through the NHS which I had to wait for about 5 months, and knew in advance that it would be short-term even though I wasn’t given a specific number of sessions. But anyway, I had a few sessions, worked through some stuff, released some demons, and then agreed with the therapist that for THE TIME BEING I felt good enough to stop treatment and go live my life for a while. Under no circumstance, did, or do, I think that I was “done” with the trauma. It’s there forever, and no amount of therapy will ever make it “go away” or “make it disappear”. What therapy does is help people to re-frame and contain their experiences, so these stories are not in control of you, but you are in control of them.

In the past 7 years of active and conscious healing in my life, this is what I’ve come to know and found difficult to accept at times: everything is a paradox, including healing and living a better, more fulfilled life. One of the greatest paradoxes of life is this: change is the only constant aspect of life, and yet is the one thing no one wants to do. Take that one in and let it percolate!

Do you want to feel happier, more focused, fulfilled, with more purpose, more joy? Then change will be necessary. Not always big changes, but changes nonetheless. And the biggest opponents to change are systems, for they represent collective patterns! So, when looking at your life and what might be in its way, it might be helpful to start thinking about which internalised systems might be trying to keep you “in your place”.

 

If this resonates, feel free to share with friends, family, and networks.

Thank you. xx

Ryan Campinho Valadas
HCPC registered Dramatherapist

W: http://www.thehealingcontinuum.com/
E: info@thehealingcontinuum.com