Deflecting Love
In Part Four of this series we briefly touched on how a contraction can overtake us when we’re positively acknowledged; this contraction shows up as a deflecting of not only what is being said, but more importantly, dismissing the speaker as well. This, of course, can have disastrous results for the relationship. We trap our breath, squeeze the diaphragm, avoid eye contact, armor ourselves from receiving an intimate acknowledgement. Of course this can happen with a negative response as well, but for now it’s worth pausing to look at what is it about us that deflects the intimacy of being positively recognized. What’s the cost of this separation, and how can this divide be mended? This is important because being seen and seeing are built on a mutually inclusive relationship; they’re two players of the whole. This mutuality convenes intimacy, authenticity, love, and deeper connection with self, others, and the world. By becoming aware of the historical conditioning that has us avoid this level of intimacy it’s possible to make different choices that are more life affirming; more aligned to our basic needs of safety, belonging, and dignity. This opens up the possibility to fully receive love, and to fully give love. This is a fundamental step in recognizing the truth of our interdependence and interconnectedness.
The example I used of myself in part four was an inherited etiquette I learned as an athlete of how one should respond when applauded for an outstanding performance; as well as what I learned in the traditional Japanese martial arts, that is, bowing and stepping away with a dignified self-effacing. When this becomes embodied as a contextual norm it serves the purpose of belonging. In this case belonging to the community of athletes, or martial artists in which this behavior is affirmed. However, as I mentioned in my example, it was a false modesty, a way of appearing unaffected by the recognition of others, a way to seem above the normal conventions of “needing” approval. This inhibits the possibility of an authentic meeting that is spiritual in nature.
What I have repeatedly seen is that a deep seated feeling of being deficient, of being flawed, of unworthiness is at the core of deflecting being acknowledged in a positive light. The story of a man I’ll call Carlos exemplifies this theme.
Carlos was raised by a single, alcoholic mother who was unable to take care of him. She was kind and loving but dysfunctional. She would consistently fall into stupors and black outs, her neglect increasing until Carlos was finally put into the foster care system. The central messages he received as he rotated through different foster families was that he was fundamentally flawed, undeserving of anything other than sharing a bed with three other boys and having one set of clothes. Despite this he did well in school, played varsity sports, and had a steady girlfriend. Yet he deflected any affirmative acknowledgement of his accomplishments; he would either deride the speaker, break contact by walking away, or simply shaking his head. When he was in high school he began to live with his mother again who had been sober for three years and held a steady job. As he began to look past high school the only thing that he thought he was suited for was being a janitor. He would watch the janitors at his school and thought this was something he could do with the chorus in his head confirming “You’re not worthy or deserving of anything else.” While his mother offered nothing other than this future his girlfriend encouraged him to apply to college which he did and was accepted with a partial scholarship. When the acceptance letter arrived he wouldn’t open it, so his girlfriend finally opened it. When he found out that he was accepted he thought it must be a mistake, a trick that the school was playing on him. In actuality he was quite bright in mathematics and science, but he was severely hampered by the narrative of unworthiness to the point of being paralyzed. He was unable to take any initiative in improving his situation. The refrain “You’re not worthy” was a loop that played over and over in his mind.
When people gave him favorable responses, or encouraged him to reach outside his limiting beliefs he would immediately mistrust them. He thought they were lying so they could watch him fail. His girlfriend helped him through the administrative details of enrolling and accepting the scholarship, and encouraged him to attend classes. He spent most of the time in his dorm room and at the end of the year he was asked not to return because of failing grades. “All I thought was that I wasn’t deserving. I just wasn’t worthy of going to college, or having a good job, but I thought I could be a janitor” he would say. The closest thing to praise that he received was when a foster parent would say. ”At least you didn’t make a mess of things.”
I met Carlos when he came to the aikido dojo. He immediately took to the training and the philosophy. Although he kept to himself and didn’t mingle easily with the other students he trained regularly and sincerely. At that time he was living his story working part time for a cleaning company. Training for his black belt test he began to build trust with me and one evening after class he told me his story about being raised in foster homes, his mother’s addictions, and his failing out of school. Through his aikido practice he began to see he was improving and it increased his self-confidence; yet he would still disrtrust any positive affirmation about his progress. At one point when I mentioned that his technique was improving during a particular demanding multiple person attack he flinched as if avoiding something coming towards him. It was subtle but it was clear that it was his conditioned reaction about any assessments that challenged his story of being unworthy. Inexplicably it occurred to me that in the previous practice he didn’t flinch or draw away when a lightning bolt of a fist was aimed at his face, or when there were committed lunges at his throat. From a centered posture he would re-direct the attacker’s energy without folding in on himself and neutralize the attack. It was then that I knew that he didn’t recognize that shame wasn’t necessarily a solid fixture in his inner landscape. Could he understand that not flinching from a strike to the nose, which he handled with dignity and self-possession, was a reflection of an inner strength he had been cultivating in his aikido practice: a state of being that would allow him to become more confident about his potential.
As part of his run-up for his black belt test I suggested he take 30 minutes a day and repeat “I’m worthy” while being solidly in his body, so it wasn’t simply an idea he was repeating, but a feeling sense that became part of him. Because of his aikido practice he knew how to make this declaration from a somatic ground. This made all the difference between simply reciting words, to an embodiment practice that could re-wire his nervous system; that in turn would re-orient him from a limited world view of insufficiency to a fulfilling future of dignity, safety, and connection. This sounds simple and it is, but not simple in an unsophisticated, naïve way, but in an uncomplicated direct manner that allows our intent and our actions to become one.
I recommended a somatic practitioner that Carlos could work with that would assist him in releasing the muscular contractions that kept him from opening to new possibilities, which in turn would aid him in his black belt test. Carlos had an exemplary test and when it came time for spectators and his fellow aikido students to applaud he stood proud and open to receiving their hearty acknowledgement. Watching him in full dignity of his accomplishment I knew he had crossed over a huge inner barrier that had long been his nemesis. He was letting their love in, and by his receptiveness he was returning love. Carlos eventually earned a technical degree in computer science, and was hired by a technology start-up. He moved out of the area but found a dojo he could continue his training. It didn’t escape me that when I saw Carlos embodying his new found self-respect in front of his peers it was the exact opposite of how I responded those many decades ago when I was seen and applauded.
Take it Easy, But Take It,
Richard Strozzi-Heckler