Recently, at the Marpa course in New York, Lama Ole was asked how one can recover from painful feelings of loss and sadness. Lama Ole responded by saying how if he was a psychologist, he would just tell people jokes all day. He also commented that when someone is feeling sad or disturbed he thinks it helps to just tickle them. Lama Ole quickly added that he didn’t think he would make a very good psychologist.
Lama Ole’s response caused me to pause. You see, I am a psychologist, and daily, people come to me in emotional pain and ask me to help them feel better. My job is truly a privilege; I feel so much gratitude for the opportunity to become a part of people’s most intimate struggles and triumphs. At courses, people seem to have endless questions for Lama Ole about how to heal or help others heal from suffering. And with his many comments lately about the field of psychology and what he would be like if he had my job, I have been reflecting on how my clinical work has been impacted by my meditation practice as a Diamond Way Buddhist.
I actually found Buddhism initially through my work. In the current landscape of psychology, there are a few “mindfulness” based therapy treatments that have become widely popular in recent years. When I first tried using these techniques with my clients about five years ago I noticed something: my clients were feeling better and change was occurring at a more rapid pace. This made me wonder; what is it that is so helpful about these Buddhist-based therapies, and what might Buddhism be able to teach me?
Now that I have been practicing Diamond Way Buddhism for two years, I can see how my approach with clients has shifted, and how dharma informs my work. Let me be clear, I do not technically practice Buddhist psychology; I do not sell myself to clients with this title. However, I strongly believe meditation has made me a better therapist. And I am not alone in this belief. In fact, exciting research has recently shown that the amount of time a therapist spends meditating directly correlates with patient wellness outcomes, regardless of whether or not the therapist ever mentions anything about meditation to the client. Basically, there is now hard data to back up what most of us would logically guess; the more a therapist meditates the better her clients feel.
In wondering why this is, I have thought a lot about the things Lama Ole has said when he daydreams out loud about what he would do as a therapist. In truth, a lot of his suggestions are things that really wouldn’t work in my office. For example, it may not be well received if I lean over and tickle a client who is feeling depressed. Or telling a client who is sad after a divorce that beautiful women are like sand on the beach, as Lama Ole has suggested, may not provide the intended relief. And never mind trying to envision what it might be like if I told one of my suicidal patients that they shouldn’t kill themselves because they could be reborn in Africa. These scenarios would not only make for a crazy day at the office, they would likely result in the loss of my license. But that is where developing skillful means comes in. I realized, as incongruent with therapy as Lama Ole’s suggestions may feel, there is a useful message behind them. There is logic behind his suggestions and that is what I try to use in my work.
Therapy can share similar goals with meditation. No, I am not fully liberating beings all day long, but I am helping people learn some of the basics. Therapy is an opportunity for someone to slow down, step out of their routine and tune into themselves. While sitting in my office, clients are asked to heighten their awareness and notice whatever thoughts and feelings arise. They are asked to actually take a look at their experiences instead of simply going along for the ride.
When clients learn to become more mindful in this way, then they are able to create space between themselves and their emotions or painful situations. They can learn to notice them and see them as something outside of themselves, something that is not solid or concrete, not totally real, and not everlasting. Sound familiar? This small first step in therapy can be life-changing. It can be the difference between believing “I am hopeless” versus “I feel hopeless.” When patients can bring awareness to a painful emotion, they can see how that feeling can be identified, described, and seen as something that is not inherently true or about self, but instead as something that is malleable and less real than they initially believe it to be.
Clients typically do not learn how never to suffer painful emotions again, but they can learn in therapy how to get better at dealing with them. For many of us, we learn how to do this through meditation practice. Though some of my clients meditate, many of them can learn how to relate to their emotions better through working in a therapeutic relationship that fosters safety and encourages them to reflect, find new ways to think about their feelings and develop more adaptive coping skills. What they notice is how thoughts relate to feelings and how feelings are associated with bodily reactions. They can also observe the natural rise and fall of emotion, the temporary nature of pain, and the power that being aware of our experiences provides us. This awareness gives clients space and allows them to learn how to respond to difficult feelings versus merely reacting to them.
These skills are also seminal for me as a therapist when I am sitting with a client. My own capacity to be mindful allows me to be fully present with my clients. Instead of being swept away by the endless thoughts or sensations I experience throughout the day that serve as distraction from the present, I am able to catch my mind as it moves away and gently return it to the person with whom I am sitting. I can better offer my full presence, focused on them, as I actively work to notice their experience with them. That power of awareness is also helpful for noticing when I have reactions of my own that may be related to the client. For example, if I can notice during a session that I am starting to feel bored or detached, instead of just being detached, I can ask myself what is going on with the client that may relate to this feeling. Often I may learn how my reaction is directly related to the client. For example, I may become bored at a point when a client is not being fully honest or genuine and thus my ability to be aware of my own self in the moment can help me address the relational dynamics that arise and thus help my client explore what is coming up in the present moment.
In psychology, we are traditionally taught from a psychodynamic perspective to try to understand why someone is feeling what they are feeling. We are encouraged to look for past hurts and subsequent defense mechanisms to uncover some insight that will bring about an “aha” moment that creates a cathartic release. Many patients come to therapy seeking this journey. They are depressed or have had yet another failed relationship, and they want to know why, to uncover some historical cause with the hope that if they find the antecedent, they will be “cured.” In my first years of clinical practice I would wholeheartedly set off on this journey with my clients. Oftentimes times we were able to uncover some historical moment that related to a particular struggle that was ongoing in their life. But what I soon saw was that insight rarely was enough to cause change. Simply having the “aha” wasn’t enough. For example, a client may realize looking back that in response to her abusive parent she kept to herself, and to protect herself did not let people in. But, as an adult, this has resulted in loneliness and low self-esteem. However, seeing where this behavior—once adaptive, now problematic—came from, and taking steps to change it in the present, are often two separate things. What Buddhism has taught me that has most significantly affected my work is that a client does not need to gain insight into where a problem originated in order to identify what the problem is and figure out what can be done in the here and now to work towards positive change. Sometimes clients will express a profound relief when I share this with them. Being able to free oneself from focusing on how they were shot in the chest by a poison arrow, as Lama Ole has said, and instead focus on how to pull it out, is tremendously helpful.
It is in the here-and-now work that Buddhism has something helpful to contribute to therapy. And Lama Ole is right about the goals here. Though I can’t tickle my client who is depressed, I can seek the intended result in doing so. If I tickle you when you are crying, chances are you will quickly be pulled out of your head, taken away from rolling over sad thoughts in your mind, and instead be forced to be totally present, inhabit your body, and possibly even behave totally opposite to how you were just feeling by giggling. An example of this from my practice occurred recently when a client who suffers from a painful trauma started to have a panic attack in my office when talking about a past disturbing event. She started to have shortness of breath, nausea, sweating, and started to cry. I struggled to calm her with breathing techniques or other centering strategies, but nothing was working. As an alternative, I encouraged her to get up on one leg with me and hop up and down in my office. Together, the two of us bounced one-legged, and quickly she recovered, coming into her body more fully in the present in order to balance on one leg, and soon she was smiling and laughing at our silliness. Not unlike tickling, this exercise got her out of her head, and into the present. It gave her space to see that she had control over her thoughts and feelings and also could tolerate the distressing emotions until they passed.
Similarly, when Lama Ole says he would tell jokes all day as a therapist, the implementation for this in my work has been to help clients see that how they think, act and feel are all connected and essentially the same. So if their body is tight and short of breath, and their mind is filled with worries, they will likely feel stuck in anxiety. But if they can get themselves to behave differently by going for a run or dancing to uplifting music, or if instead of focusing on fears, they think of positive or loving ideas, then they will feel different. Sometimes my clients will ask me, “Isn’t that basically faking it till you make it?” I let them know it is only considered fake if they want to hold onto the belief that their painful emotion is what is real. Otherwise, it is trading a bad dream for a good dream.
Other dharma lessons that apply in therapy come from the message behind Lama Ole’s statement that if you know someone who is considering suicide, you could try to warn them that if they kill themselves, they could be reborn in Africa. The wisdom here has to do with cause and effect, but often clients do not relate to this belief. What clients may be able to relate to however, is the idea that suffering can be an opportunity for growth; that challenges are chances for us to learn and develop, that there is something of value to be gained by working through difficulties that face us instead of running away from them. Though they may not learn to sing the Mahakala invocation, they may be able to grasp the wisdom behind this meditation and use it in their daily lives.
Five years ago when I asked the question, “What can Buddhism teach me?”, I had no idea how significantly Diamond Way Buddhism would change both me and my profession. Today, as I meditate to reach enlightenment for the benefit of all beings, I am deeply grateful that even my short time meditating has already enabled me in my job to have a broader and more pragmatic toolbox of skills for helping others. For me, it is a mini glimpse into seeing how our practice truly does allow us to grow in ways that benefit all beings.
