Love Odyssey

We are just now back home from our first Safe Passage Odyssey and I can’t believe how well it worked out.  My experience is that first time efforts are usually fraught with mistakes and mediocre results.  This Odyssey was surprisingly more powerful than I had expected.  I didn’t expect to feel so emotionally moved on a spiritual level.  Perhaps we were lucky with such a courageous couple who were able to self-examine and confront some uncomfortable schemas that were destroying their marriage.  But I’m hoping that there’s something magical in the process itself – that Helen and I being so intimate with another couple for 7 days on such an unusual adventure can actually nudge them into a new way of thinking and feeling.  There’s no question that this first couple experienced a very profound change in their perspectives, not only about their relationship but to some extent about how they are approaching life.

 There was a lot of teaching, a lot of story-telling, some tears and a whole lot of laughter.  I think that the laughter was especially important in framing the voyage as a safe place to explore.  Even so, the process was emotionally intense.  By Wednesday we all agreed that we needed a break to NOT focus on the relationship and to just relax and take in New Bern.  I think the zenith of the trip was when we arranged an old resentment burial service out on a remote beach at sunrise.  We ferried the couple there at 6 AM when the sun was just rising and the beach was deserted.  Each person had a full half-hour to read and vent their list of past resentments with their partner listening with no retort.  After each had their turn, they burned their lists together in a little grave they had dug for their cremation ceremony.  After they filled in the resentment grave,  I officiated as captain and guided them through their pledges to each other.  Then out came the champagne, toasts and hugs all around.  While the whole ceremony was going on, I felt so blessed to be able to have these kinds of experiences that so many people aren’t able to have.  It was a somewhat transcendent feeling of being so close to the pulse of life.  These people were sharing their core truths in the most heroic way imaginable.

 Another take-away from this trip was to again see Helen’s innate brilliance when she combines her wisdom with her awesome emotional warmth.  I remember sitting there watching her as the couple talked with us.  But I had to laugh out loud at how much she out-matched me in making a connection with them.  They were looking at her the majority of the time and for good reason.  There she was, nodding her head and giving little verbal reassurances that she was tracking and understanding it all.  Her attunement skills are out of this world!  I sit and listen with interest and wonder.  But she listens and exudes warmth and compassion.  I may have more understanding of how things fit together and how people need to grow.  She’s able to model how to be emotionally whole.  She and I have different strengths and it’s good for my “Inner Ceasar” to be humbled by some of hers.

 Bryce – 7/18/2010

The hollow empty feeling in the middle of the chest, the lump in the throat and of course the occasional gasping sobs.  These are the signs of grief that I counsel other people about day-in and day-out.  And to confess the truth, I had probably become habituated and numbed over the years so that I don’t feel terrible pain when I work with others.  Perhaps it’s like the medical examiner who can perform an autopsy with one hand while eating his lunch with the other.  But  it’s interesting that I can still feel ripped apart and laid open when conditions are right.  That’s how I felt 4 days ago when I held my little dog while putting him down.

My strong feelings show how much I made this little animal my child.  It’s apparent to me that my emotions are rooted in some pretty powerful dynamics:  Helen and I struggled in vain to have our own biological child many years ago.  Our two children (both adopted by me) are now grown.  I think I have relished Helen’s nurturing of “our baby boy” and I think little Danny was a surrogate for some powerful needs we both still feel.  I know that rubbing Danny’s bare belly, feeling him snuggle into me at night and feeling his muzzle on my neck all somehow nurtured my own small self parts that resonated to his joy.  It’s interesting how we make our own virtual worlds of meaning.  This little animal was smaller than a Thanksgiving turkey yet I projected so much meaning into him by nuturing and protecting him.  His death devastated me.

It’s four days later and the pain has declined significantly.  I remind myself about what he was and what he wasn’t.  He was my cute little affectionate dog but I made him my child.  He really wasn’t a child but I made him into one in my mind.  

I find myself wanting even more physical contact with Helen as my need for touch and warmth redirects.  Helen and I share our memories, our sadness.  Someday we’ll get a new puppy but not now.  We don’t want to deny the loss and leave splinters of dissociated pain in our minds.  We’re both coming more into the present.  The empty hole in the chest and the lump in the throat have gone away.  Life continues.    Bryce (1/31/2010)

Helen thinks I’m obsessive and I know that’s true.  Lately I’ve been obsessing about anchors and storms.  What’s the best way to face one of those demon storms that severely punish many boaters who are naively confident from their history of Sunday afternoon sailboat regattas.  Two months ago I met a man in the local coffee shop where many of us sailor types like to hang out.  His leg was in a caste and he told me an interesting story about how his anchor snubber line had chafed through one night during a wild Northeaster storm.  This allowed the chain to pull tight with tremendous force and even yanked the windlass completely off the boat.  In all the turmoil, his foot got caught in the anchor chain and was nearly amputated. 

That sailor’s story reminded me of my 1988 fight with another Northeaster storm in which we nearly died. In fact we were anchored in the same location as the unfortunate sailor who nearly lost his foot.  During my brawl with my own demon storm, our jib unraveled in near hurricane winds and cinched up like a small spinnaker that put us under sail.  Our Bruce anchor plowed through the bottom muck instead of holding us fast.  We could see we were dragging towards shoals and the only things that saved us was when I crawled up to the nose and pushed off a second anchor that eventually set.  I learned alot that night:  how to secure a jib for a storm and to not use a Bruce anchor when I need strong holding power on a silt bottom.  I also learned something very empowering about myself that I previously didn’t know.  I hadn’t known that I would have the where-with-all to face probable death and still self-reflect.  That’s what happened.  When the worst part of the storm hit, our jib blew out and started catching the wind with a humongous crashing sound.  It felt like a monstrous giant was pounding the boat to pieces.  As I ran up the stairs to the top deck and caught a face full of hail, Helen yelled out “I’m scared!”  I yelled back ”I am too!”  The sea conditions and the uncontrolled sail looked like Hell unleashed.  It was apparent that the sail could literally decapitate me if I made a mistake.  As I stood there thinking we were all going to die within 10 minutes, I also thought it was ironic that I had expressed my fear to my wife.  I had expressed my feelings.  What a new-age man!  Big whoop-deep-do!  I thought it was darkly humorous that I would self-reflect on my own authenticity during the last moments of my life.  But as fate would have it, my second anchor did the trick and death was postponed for a probable 40+ more years.  Which brings me to my main point.  I’m going to give myself permission to get obsessive about my new anchoring SYSTEM. 

I’ve been visualizing, planning, obsessing, researching and now purchasing the meanest, nastiest bad-ass anchoring system I can fit on my boat:  a 75 pound pivot arm Super-max anchor with 2 humongous 3-strand snubber lines, chafing gear and all stainless steel thimbles, hooks and shackles.  I’m imagining that next demon storm and I feel like shouting  “Come on!  Bring it on!  I’m ready for you!”  Sometimes I think my obsessing helps me to prepare and feel safe.  It’s rather like having a big protective brother.          Bryce (1/22/2009)

Today, I have something reverberating in my skull from a couple I saw. It was a couple who almost never have conflict, who are always nice to each other, treat each other with respect and never rock the boat by saying anything that might reveal too much or get too deep. Why? What’s really going on? Many people would say that they just need to learn how to open up and be willing to be vulnerable with each other. A lot of shrinks will make good money by just meeting their expectations: by training them in “good communication techniques” or good “repair techniques.” I despair that this is what’s most often offered by us so-called professionals.

This is what I suggested to them and I’ll try to simplify for brevity.

1) They’re not communicating intimately because they’re too vulnerable. The virtue is to get less vulnerable so that they can risk exposing more.

2) When they self-edit and refrain from sharing an intimate awareness, their unconscious is actually anticipating what their partner’s emotional reaction might be in the worst case scenario. They’re usually anticipating that their partner will show angry disapproval or hurt feelings. That’s not the end of it though.

3) They’re also anticipating that once they see their partner’s reaction, that they won’t be able to prevent their own shame/guilt emotional shutdown response that will feel horrific. They don’t really feel confident in being able to boundary off from their partner’s mind.

4) Because they anticipate far in advance that they might wind up awash in shame or guilt, and they don’t feel confident that they can stop their reaction, they wind up avoiding even the consideration of sharing their thoughts on a deeper level.

What’s important is to realize that this is all taken care of by the unconscious. The choice to share intimate thoughts and feelings just never seems to come up to the surface. Isn’t that interesting? I also find it interesting that shrink types just never want to really think this through. That’s too bad because if they did there would be a lot more effective therapy helping people out with these kinds of problems. Instead we just see this garbage about how people need to be taught how to communicate better!

So anyway I tried a new homework exercise assignment with this couple. It’s too detailed to give here but it’s similar to a longer therapy I developed that works quite well in the ofiice. If it works, it will be very useful for many couples. If it doesn’t, I’ll go back to the drawing boards.

Here’s a real paradox. The world tells us how we should always try to empathize and be sensitive to each other’s minds. But I think that automatically and compulsively being empathic all the time is a prescription for communication breakdown. If you don’t have a way of defending yourself from painful feelings then you’ll just distance in any relationship by avoiding deeper communication. At least that’s what your unconscious will do for you. Try this paradox: Being confident in your ability to mentally build your separate frame of meaning can actually give you the confidence to risk closeness. So dynamic separateness is necessary for emotional togetherness! Weird, huh?

So this is what goes through my mind. I feel quite alone because I can’t get most clinical colleagues to think this through. However, I’ve been very gratified by some of these ideas being appreciated by some research types in the scientific community (ie. Reversal Theory folks). It feels like I’m exploring a strange land where there are no other human footprints. It’s exciting and that’s why I lose sleep. It’s also why my wife Helen finds me zoning out sometimes. “Earth to Bryce…Earth to Bryce….” she calls. At least she’s not bored when I do answer.           Bryce (12/30/2009)

Where to start? Perhaps the answer is right now. I’m sitting in our pilothouse of our boat, listening to some Bill Leslie music from Pandora on my earphones and appreciating our little twinkling Christmas tree in the downstairs salon that I’ll have to take down in a few hours. I woke Helen up once again with my usual 5 O’Clock restlessness. There are two things going through my head. One is that I feel somewhat apprehensive about tomorrow when I have to tell a patient that I think he’s probably lying to me (and to his wife as well). I’m fond of him and it might end the relationship. I don’t look forward to that. But the other thing on my mind is Helen’s brilliant idea of blogging our relationship. She popped it on me two nights ago when we were driving down to the boat in Oriental, NC. I thought what a cool idea! It will give our adventure multiple dimensions. Love odysseys for our couples on the boat but also our own love odyssey while we do this venture together.

Let me get something out in the open so I don’t have to have it gnawing at the back of my mind as a piece of unfinished business. At some point I have to share the essence of my experience in our marriage. It’s not that I love Helen or that I’m “in-love” with her (although I’ve confessed to having grown “in-love”-like passions for her). It’s that I’m in AWE of her! I know that’s a strong word but it’s the word that fits best. And it might not be just about her but also about what I’m able to perceive about her. I see how she’s bold and creative in most of what she does even from our first five minutes when she told me that I really turned her off. I have no doubt that she’ll be revealing many of my peccadillos in this blog, perhaps even some of my major screw-ups. But I think it will be a challenge for us to both grow stronger in the truth-telling. And that’s probably what excited me the most this morning and got me up: The spiritual challenge of this odyssey.

This morning we’re going to go over to The Bean. You’ll probably be hearing a lot about The Bean in this blog. That’s a cozy little coffee house that overlooks the inner harbor of Oriental. Many of our friends gather there to reconnect and swap the latest. Oriental has a population of around 800 so news circulates fast. I also want to get some pictures of us to mount on our blog. Perhaps when you read this the picture will already be there. Bryce (12/27/2009)