Why Cognitive Behavioral Therapy Isn’t Enough

I have never been a fan of cognitive behavioral therapy. Sorry. If insight was enough to change, most of us would have quit smoking, lost weight, and kept any other New Year’s resolutions by now. Most of us would know we are worthy despite maybe having been mistreated as a child and most of us would make choices for ourselves that are healthy.

CBT is based on the idea that how we think influences our emotions and behaviors and without a doubt there is some truth here. If I wake up and see that it is raining, a thought such as “Oh, crap! It’s raining. Now the day is going to suck,” will definitely get the day off on the wrong foot. Yet if I wake up and think, “Oh, wonderful! I love the sound of rain on the roof and we need the rain,” then I’m going to be in a much better disposition. But what if you implement the positive thought and yet your mood doesn’t follow suit?

Herein lies the problem. Our thoughts aren’t enough. Here in Western society, we make cognition the King, the Supreme Being. Thinking (pun intended) reins over all systems. We negate the intelligence of our emotions, the secret knowledge of the heart, and the ridiculous accuracy of our guts.

In reality, behind every thought form is energy and energy vibrates at certain frequencies. Not only that, the energy that accompanies subconscious thought patterns often trumps any conscious work on “catch it, change it, change it” strategies.

How then do we break down old narratives?

I’m a firm believer that some of the deconstruction has to start on the physical, cellular level. We do this using our breath, by having corrective, positive interpersonal interactions, and by creating new neural pathways vis-a-vis kinesthetic movement. In the process we begin to rearrange dimensions of our nervous system, which in turn influences mood, emotions, thoughts and behaviors. We embody new narratives when we create a new reality of presence.

Yet we also have to purge ourselves of the energy associated with the traumas that created the thought forms in the first place. What subconscious contracts did we make with our parents? What energy did we pick up in the household (or in the society at large)? What belief systems do we carry that aren’t even ours? Have we taken on one parent’s issues and energy in order to stay loyal to him or her? Are we subconsciously holding ourselves back because to live a different life would be to betray mom or emasculate dad? Do we dare to be happy if our ancestors weren’t?

How come the third generation of Holocaust survivors sometimes relate to the terror of the Nazi occupation on a visceral level, when the family history was never discussed or even acknowledged? Why might a child in utero sense the mother’s fears and resentments about an unplanned or unwanted pregnancy? Why do various ethnicities carry historical trauma even when healing has occurred and why can you burst out in tears during a massage when a certain knot in a muscle is expunged? And why can the touch of one’s beloved make you cry out in relief and ecstasy?

Sometimes my clients look at me weird when I suggest a method of treatment that entails flushing out traumatic memories and patterns vis-a-vis the energy centers of the body, or chakras. Yet even skeptics can’t help but acknowledge that when they place their hands on their hearts or throats while declaring a specific statement or pattern unique to their experience, they sometimes experience intense images, feelings, insights, and sensations. The body doesn’t lie; the body keeps the score; the body is a wealth of knowledge. The subconscious, now made conscious loosens, as does the energy and resulting belief systems associated with traumas. Catharsis, as painful as it can be, clears and removes long held defense structures held within the body and cognitive schemas.

We can’t always think our way out of the the energetic ramifications of trauma. In fact, we never can. We feel, intuit, move, and then think our way out of intra-psychic prisons. Prayer too helps because it changes the energetic frequency when you invite in the presence of the Divine. Catharsis of repressed emotion and giving voice to long held anger can also liberate and energize.

Healing is a far more complex process than keeping thought records and dissecting behavior like diagramming sentences in grammar class. This can become mental masturbation and a Woody Allen monologue. Transformation comes when we dive into the energy of our traumas and into the joy of movement, breath, and sensate experience.

 

Word Becomes Flesh….

On March 28th, the film “Noah” opens. I would imagine the timing is strategic as Easter follows shortly afterwards on the calendar. Already some of the Christian world is up in arms claiming that it won’t be true to the Bible or biblical enough. That it will be too saturated with Hollywood’s penchant for violence and sex. Well, spoiler alert. The Bible has lots of violence and sex.

Personally, I’m thrilled as I think the Bible is rich with source material for epic cinema. Done well, it could have the power to illuminate as well as entertain. But cinema is a different medium than literature and the Bible is its own unique form of literature anyway, comprised of poetry, genealogies, historical accounts, narrative, parables and letters. Anytime a book is adapted to screen, it has to translate into the specifics of film making. To compare the two is like trying to find the similarities between apples and oranges.

But that does not mean the endeavor isn’t worthwhile. On the contrary. There is much to be gleaned from taking characters and themes from the Bible and allowing the Word to become flesh. By doing so, we are able to play with the text, explore it and apply it to our own lives. Is this a form of eisegesis instead of exegesis? Perhaps. But aren’t we always bringing our own experiences and perspectives into interpretation anyway?

I remember exploring Genesis stories in a psychodramatic fashion with seniors in an orthodox Jewish nursing home in New York. At first there was some some resistance for deconstructing the text in such a fashion. Then there was great enthusiasm. And do you know what the common reflection was after exploring the Noah story in this way? That the rainbow at the end, which serves as a sign of God’s covenant with the earth, for them represented symbolic hope that the Holocaust would never again occur…. Yes, our own lives impact how we see the world around us.

In the last year, I have been exploring characters from the Bible by acting a few pieces from a collection of monologues found in Lady Parts: Biblical Women and the Vagina Monologues. I’ve been performing the character of Jael and the Woman Caught in Adultery.

The Woman Caught in Adultery, written by Lisa Nichols Hickman is a beautiful piece clearly reflecting redemption themes and also a woman’s burgeoning awareness of her innate worth separate from her sexuality. The story is only found in the Gospel of John and some claim it was included only for specific theological illustration.

The story of Jael is found in Judges. Most don’t know it. She kills a Canaanite warrior, Sisera with a tent peg and is lauded as a heroine of Israel. This strong interpretation by Emily Havelka is quite subversive. When given the chance to actually speak, the imaginary Jael says she didn’t kill Sisera for Yahweh or Israel. She did it to save herself from being raped. Is this true to the Bible? Well, no. But is it feasible. YES. Right after the mention of Jael’s victory is the Song of Deborah. In it, there is mention of Sisera’s mother who would be eagerly waiting for her son to return. She says, “Are they (her son and the men), not finding and dividing the spoil? – A girl or two for every man…” (Judges 5:30). Personally, I find it disgusting that a mother would talk so nonchalantly about other women being raped by soldiers but this was the reality. And indeed, near the end of Judges, a concubine is brutally gang raped and left for dead because, “all the people did what was right in their own eyes.” “And they raped my concubine until she died. Then I took my concubine and cut her into pieces…” Judges 20:6.

These things don’t mean so much until you actually hear from the people they concern the most in the story.

Who is Mary

I tried on my Mary costume today and yes, there will be a live camel. I haven’t seen a camel since I was actually in Israel… But in all seriousness, as I think about playing Mary for a day, I can’t help but ponder, “Who was she?” Who was Mary beyond a virgin, and beyond a mother? Who was the real historical woman who spread her legs in a bed of straw and delivered the son of Man to the world?

As theologian Elizabeth A. Johnson writes, “The simplest feminist analysis makes clear that in the case of actual women in all their historical concreteness, the categories of virgin and mother come nowhere near summing up the totality of what is possible for women’s self-realization.” So who was Mary in her full dimension?

In church sermons, Mary is often talked about as having far more gumption than we sometimes realize or give her credit for. The Magnificat then is cited, yet too often this portrayal becomes eclipsed by the more well known passive image of her quietly participating in salvation. In fact, after her initial grand entrance in Luke’s gospel, I am ashamed to say that Mary basically recedes into the backdrop of my mind. Rarely do I give her any further thought. But since trying on my robe and head mantel, I feel her beginning to come to life within me. And I wonder when she began to feel Jesus coming to life within her.

Okay. So I have no lines. I’ll simply be part of a living picture tableau. However, I am welcome to improvise and to answer any questions about the baby Jesus. I’m sure there will be some little boy or girl who will ask me something like whether it was cold out that night, or if it was fun to ride on the camel. Did Mary ride on a camel or a donkey? Or did she walk all the way to Bethlehem – beit lechem – house of bread. Did she and Joseph quarrel? Did she cry? Did her water break and did she have labor pains?

But there are bigger questions. What was it like to be approached by an angel? And what was it like to raise a child like Jesus? And when they crucified him did she collapse with grief or did she scream with rage? Did she echo her son’s words, “My God, my God, why have you forsaken me?” and tear out her hair? Or did she curl up in the fetus position and hope to die herself? Or did the Holy Spirit envelop her gently telling her everything would be okay?

I don’t know.

When I put on my head mantel and looked in the mirror, I noticed that because the material covers the lines in my forehead that have formed over time, I look young. Because I am little in stature and because my body hasn’t really changed since I was a teen, I can imagine being her age again. Mary must have only been twelve or thirteen; sixteen at the most. But how old did she feel on the inside? What was her degree of spiritual and emotional maturity? And what kinds of lines formed in her face later on?

Yes, acting requires that we use figments of our imagination, but it also helps us seek truth. It opens us to Mystery and sometimes even shows us glimpses of it – heaven here on earth.