Thinking--That's What It's All About

“I came for my drinking but stayed for my thinking.” That saying is true for me.  Thirty years after my first 12-step meeting I still wrestle with my thinking. But then, what else is there? And doesn’t all personal growth, all change and all self-improvement grow from changes to the way we think, and what we think about?

A couple of years ago I began working with a Cognitive therapist. After years of insight-based therapy I knew that I knew my story so well I could recite it. And I had baskets full of insight, but I still needed to change behaviors, and I was still undone by my feelings.

Cognitive work helped me to understand that feelings are always preceded by thoughts. Not always obvious and often hard to catch but there they are. But cognitive work is work…it’s less fun than story therapy or insight therapy. It’s a lot like doing Boot Camp at the gym versus  Zumba or Ballet.

It seems like some very old advice is new and fresh and real. Marcus Aurelius wrote a book about thinking called, “To Himself” where he sorted out his thoughts and the way they made him feel. And Shakespeare said, “Nothing is good or bad but that our thinking makes it so.”

I know, nice for them to say, but the more time I spend on the cognitive work the more I see this really is so.

Sobriety is a Habit

I'm listening to the new book, "The Power of Habit"by Charles Duhigg. He's a New York Times reporter who has looked at all the recent research on behavior change and habit formation. Fascinating. In this book you can learn how McDonald's works, and how Cinnabon works and yeah, how AA works.

I know, you thought we'd already read "how it works" but Duhigg is writing about and interviewing brain scientists about how AA works neurologically. Now, you may not want to actually know that--it's a bit like learning how law and sausage are made but we long timers can handle it--and there won't be any real surprises in learning that AA replaces old triggers with new ones and changes the brain's reward system. We get that; we just use other words for the process. But Duhigg ties all that to cognitive theory.

It's a little unsettling though to hear AA protocols described by someone who has no personal contact with AA...kinda makes the Third Step sound weird...but ya know...

But the kicker in this--and it crosses over AA, smoking, nail biting and football strategy in this cognitive theory world: the "X" factor is belief. When I heard that part I laughed out loud in my car. the mystery key is belief.

That's the part that all of us know with out cracking a psych text book or visiting a lab at MIT.

Believe it.

I Think I Can

I’m getting ready to present a workshop for family caregivers on “Finding a Spiritual Center” and so I am going thru many files and all my library of spiritual books for ideas and exercises. I came across a very old book that, on reflection, must have been my first self-help and spiritual book "The Little Engine That Could” by Watty Piper.

I had that book as a very little girl, and the version that I had first came with a 45rpm (remember those?) record that played the story as you read the book). I was five years old when I first became attracted to the little engine that didn’t have enough power—or belief—on its own but then learned the mantra—and cognitive practice—of saying “I think I can; I think I can.”

It was all there then.

Grief and Grievances

I found this wonderful and provocative idea in David Richo’s book, “How to be an Adult.”

In writing about grief and responding to losses of all kinds he says: “Betrayal, abandonment, rejection, disappointment and humiliation are not feelings but beliefs. Each of these judgments keeps us caught in our story. Each is a subtle form of blame. Each coddles and justifies our bruised ego. Each distracts us from the true feelings of grief. Grievances dislocate grief work. Anger without blame completes it.”

Here is the cognitive approach again. Beliefs not feelings. We have a choice. Yeah, simple not easy.

Tenth Step Axiom

The tenth step axiom, from the “Twelve and Twelve” book goes like this:

“It is a spiritual axiom that every time we are disturbed, no matter what the cause, there is something wrong with us.”

This has caused much wordy debate in 12 step rooms. “What me?” “Did I cause my childhood abuse?” “Is it my fault that my husband cheats?” and on and on.

Of course that’s not what the “axiom” is about.
And of course it’s not a unique idea to AA or Bill Wilson.

Here is the same idea from the ancient writer and philosopher Marcus Aurelius:

“If you are distressed by anything external, it is not the thing itself, but to your estimate of it; and this you have the power to revoke at any moment.”

There is nothing new under the sun.

Now, studying Cognitive Therapy, I see the same idea. When I am hurt, distressed, slighted, unworthy I am able to ask myself, what schema or old belief IN ME am I replaying or clinging to—even unknowingly. I am –Thank you to the annoying Carl Rogers, as well—distressing myself. And I can change my mind. Not easy but I can. And I can change my beliefs—also not easy at all. But it can be done.

When I am disturbed there is something in me contributing to that. At worst I am causing it, at best I am collaborating. And the power to change that is in me.

Cognitive Serenity Prayer

I’m in Cognitive Therapy mode and I’m facing the depth and consequence of my “schema” or deeply held beliefs. I see the ways I am held prisoner by them, the ways that others in my life are affected by them and the intransigence of these beliefs. There are days—today for example—when my belief in abandonment, defectiveness and emotional deprivation are like fossils or like anchors or like invisible operating systems. Choose your metaphor.

So looking thru the Cognitive Theory lens what if Reinhold Niehbor’s Serenity Prayer meant something like this:

God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change.
(The actual situation, the practical solution, the tangible: I have cancer; I lost my job; my husband left me; my retirement investments tanked; my lover died.)

The Courage to change the things I can.
(The internal, the elegant solution: This is not proof that I am bad or being punished; I have skills to apply to this situation; I am loveable even if not by this person at this time; I’m not stupid the economy is hurting; someone may leave or die but that does not mean they are abandoning me.)

And the wisdom to know the difference.
(Do I need to effect a practical solution or work through to an elegant one? Is this something to fix on the outside —like get a new job? Or is this something to change inside—grasp the difference between the grief of losing someone I loved versus the pain of believing that I have been left because that is my fate?