sábado, mayo 26, 2012

Las Peliculas Del Viaje

The Drummer es una hermosa pelicula que decribe la conexion para la cultura asiatica entre los ritmos , el tambor y las artes marciales como herramientas de la conciencia .

viernes, mayo 25, 2012



Mi Logo

Trances De Tercera Generacion

The Nature of Trance

by Stephen Gilligan, Ph.D.

To remember
the other world
in this world
is to live in your
true inheritance.
David Whyte

In previous blogs, I talked about how the Generative Self approach distinguishes two worlds: (1) the classical world of the conscious mind and (2) the quantum world of the creative unconscious mind.  These worlds are complementary and mutually fulfilling—roughly speaking, the creative unconscious is the visionary, while the conscious mind is the manager.  You need both to live a creative and fulfilling life.
Of course, you don’t need both at all times.  For routine moments, when you just need to do what you’ve done in the past, you don’t really need the creative unconscious.  When you go get a cup of coffee in the morning, for example, you don’t have to be in a highly creative state. But there are inevitably times in life when what you’ve done in the past won’t help you deal with the present challenge.   At such times, you need to create something new—a new way of looking at things, a new way of understanding yourself, a new way of acting in the world.  This is precisely where generative trance is a helpful state, as it allows you to think, experience, and act in new ways.  This blog will explore this understanding of trance.   Five basic ideas will be proposed:
(1)    Trance as absorption in the creative unconscious.
(2)    Not all trances are equal.
(3)    Trance is naturalistic.
(4)    Trance is psychobiologically necessary.
(5)    Hypnosis is one psychosocial context for humanizing and shaping trance.

Trance as absorption in the creative unconscious

In general terms, trance can be defined straightforwardly as:
(1) A temporary suspension of the classical world of the conscious mind, and (2) an experiential absorption into the quantum world of the creative unconscious.
Most adults spend most of their time in the managerial world of the conscious mind.  They are one step removed from direct experience, thinking about things, analyzing and worrying.  The conscious mind is a world defined by, and held in place by, verbal descriptions and verbal rules.  These include beliefs, expectations, ‘shoulds,’ and stories about who you are and why, and what you can expect to happen in your future.  It is easy to get stuck in this ‘identity box’, succumbing to what Henry David Thoreau called ‘lives of quiet desperation.’
Trance is a way out of this, a reawakening into the quantum world of infinite possibility.  When you go into trance, the constraints of the ego-box are temporarily suspended.  You drop the analytical thinking and conditioned perceptions and immerse yourself in the ocean of primitive consciousness, a world of images, feelings, symbols, movements and energies.  Like in dreams or at play, in trance you can go anywhere from anywhere; the normal classical reality gives way to a more subtle quantum field of creative possibility.  All the ordinary structures of identity that are usually fixed—time, meanings, embodiment, memory, logic, brain maps—become variable, free to generate new patterns and identities.
Not all trances are created equal
However, immersion in this new world does not guarantee the generation of new possibilities.  Some trances are low quality – spacing out, television trances, numbing out – that may give you a break from active ego processing, but don’t do much to refresh or transform your consciousness.  Other trances are downright negative – such as depression, anxiety, addiction, resentment, self-pity.  We’ll see how what makes these trances negative is the human relationship with the unconscious, and how by changing this relationship to a positive one you can transform them into positive trances.   Other trances are positive but non-transformative—you relax and get a genuine feeling of security, but it doesn’t really shift anything in your core patterns.  They’re ‘nice’ experiences that don’t really make a lasting difference.
I studied with Milton Erickson, while at the same time doing my graduate work in psychology at Stanford University, which then had the largest hypnosis laboratory in the world, run by the great experimental psychologist, Ernest Hilgard.  My graduate research used hypnosis, so I worked in this laboratory under Hilgard’s supervision.  This is where the famous standardized hypnotizability tests were developed.  So I had this interesting experience of running the standardized hypnotic inductions in the university lab, then visiting Erickson and experiencing a whole different type of trance.  To me, they are apples and oranges: the trances developed by standardized suggestion produce a qualitatively different type of trance experience compared to what you can and should be developing in a therapeutic setting, where the unique aspects of each client are the main ingredients for the ‘trance soup.’
The standardized inductions completely ignore the unique elements of a person, and rightfully so: they are primarily concerned with developing a relatively uniform experiential state so that traditional research can be done.  In therapy, of course, the goal is the opposite—you want to create a space where the unique strengths and dimensions of a client’s identity can be accessed and creatively worked with for transformation and healing.  You want to develop a trance where a person can go beyond their previous limitations and create something entirely new in their life.
This is ‘generative trance’.   It is an experiential state in which you’re deeply connected to the creative unconscious, but still have an intelligent conscious mind-presence to hold intention and creatively work with experiential patterning and re-patterning. Generative trance unites the unconscious mind and the conscious mind into a third ‘creative unconscious’ or ‘generative trance’ mind that has extraordinary properties and potentials.
Trance is naturalistic
Listen, are you breathing just a little and calling it a life?
While the soul, after all, is only a window,
and the opening of the window no more difficult
than the awakening from a little sleep.
Mary Oliver
Trance is fundamental to the nature of consciousness.  It is a state that humans must drop into periodically in order to renew, protect, re-create, and transform their identities.
This idea, central to Erickson’s work, is radically different from the traditional view, which defines trance as an experience that comes from something called ‘hypnosis.’  It’s thought to be a very artificial thing, an artifact of hypnotic technique or suggestion.  In other words, it is generally assumed that trance happens because a hypnotist says ‘Booga-booga-booga’ and because of these magical incantations, some strange exotic state begins to develop.  This state, in this way of thinking, is caused by, and controlled by an external person, the hypnotist.
Therapy is supposed to be a process of learning a greater sense of your own control and skills, of being able to take back projections, to claim responsibility for one’s way, of finding one’s own voice. The traditional idea of hypnosis is totally incongruent with that; it is another example of someone else defining your life or telling you what to do. So it is not surprising that many people, if you mention hypnosis to them, will be at least a little bit afraid, thinking, ‘I’ve already experienced what it’s like to be controlled by somebody else.  That’s the problem, not the solution.  I’m here to get beyond that, not to do more of it.’
This is why I generally no longer use the word hypnosis: it carries too many connotations of one person’s conscious mind controlling another person’s unconscious mind.  We are looking instead to open a creative, mutually respectful relationship between the conscious mind and creative unconscious, both between and within people.
In English, we have two different words for learning.   The first is ‘instruction,’ which means ‘to pack in.’  The second is ‘education’, which means ‘to draw out that which is already there.’  Generative trance, continuing Erickson’s tradition, orients to this second view.   So rather than seeing trance as some strange artificial state, we become curious about the many trance-like experiences that a person already has.  For example, it can be helpful to ask:
When you need to really connect with yourself, what are some of things that you do?
When were times when you lost track of time and all your worries?
Can you remember times when you felt a sense of wonderment?
For most people, the answers are not surprising: they include relatively low-cost, ordinary activities like reading, walking in nature, cooking, meditating, listening to or playing music, and so forth.  Each of these activities is an aesthetic practice for letting go of the control structures of the conscious mind and opening to the experiential absorption in something beyond your ego, namely, the intelligence of the creative unconscious.  That’s what we’re doing in trance work.  We attune to natural experiences and create a safe and resonant unified field that allows all parts of a systemic identity to be safely present.  We then add other ingredients—for example, resources and other positive experiences–and then stir the soup to discover how these different experiential patterns can blend together to make nourishing and transformational food for the soul.
Erickson’s understanding of trance did not come primarily from intellectual or conceptual awareness, it came from his own experience. It came from his immense curiosity and from his having to deal with the unusual set of challenges he faced in his life.  He decided that the best way to deal with his challenges was to accept them deeply, in a way that allowed him to become affectionate and curious about how each of these unique patterns could be gifts rather than curses; how they could really be positive aspects of his life rather than negative.
For example, when he developed polio, the doctors told him he would never move again.  He thought that was an interesting ‘suggestion’, and began a series of deep inner explorations.  He was 17, he knew nothing formally about ‘hypnosis’ or ‘trance’, but he knew how to use his imagination.  So he would go into these deep states of inner absorption and become curious about what he could learn.  He would find himself attuning to long-forgotten pleasurable experiences—for example, a memory of throwing a ball with his brothers when he was a child.  He didn’t know why he was remembering that, but some inner resonance seemed to encourage him to deeply immerse in that memory.  After weeks, sometimes months of doing so, something amazing would begin to happen: the muscles involved in that childhood memory began to reactivate in his present body.  In other words, the natural memory of throwing a ball became a central resource and reference structure for re-activating the same pattern in his present life. His trance was developed from simple, unforced experiences, and natural memories became the basis for a new learning.
Trance and other non-rational processes are psychobiologically necessary
I live my life in widening circles
that reach out across the world.
I may not complete this last one
but I give myself to it.
I circle around God, around the primordial tower.
I’ve been circling for thousands of years
and I still don’t know: am I a falcon,
a storm, or a great song?
Rainer Maria Rilke
In generative trance work, we are assuming that symptoms and all so-called pathologies are not only potentially positive, they are necessary for meaningful growth.  They are what in Gaelic is called anam cara, or ‘friends of the soul.’  The brain needs to go into non-rational states; a person needs to lose control at least occasionally.  Each life is an unfolding spiral of death and rebirth cycles.  Empires rise, empires fall; ego identity is stable, ego identity becomes unstable; you are in control, you are not in control.  When ego identity destablilizes, trance occurs spontaneously.  The main question is whether this happens in a positive or negative way.  In generative trance work we see how this can be done positively, including how seemingly negative trances can be turned into positive ones.
The idea that altered states of consciousness are integral to growth and health is beautifully expressed by Michael Ventura, an American writer who spent a year teaching poetry to high school students.  In recounting his experience, he talks about the central importance of art to human consciousness.  (In the quote, I have inserted the words ‘symptoms’ and ‘trance’ in brackets, because they apply perfectly.)  Here’s what he has to say:
“Why does art (and symptoms and trance) exist at all? In part at least art (and symptoms and trance) exists because normal daily life isn’t enough for anybody and it never has been. The student (like the client in the consulting room) isn’t wrong, isn’t a freak, to be frustrated with the limits of daily life. Everything that humanity is proud of, and many of the things that it has good reasons to be ashamed of, comes from testing and breaking those limits. Something in the world, something that human beings both express and shape and store in art (and symptoms and trance) is constantly communicating to us that there’s something more. And it doesn’t merely invite us to change, but tells us that we must. That’s the starting point, that’s the central point of art’s (and symptoms’ and trance’s) spiritual geography – that at any moment you can step out of the state that you’re into and do something more intense, even exalted. In this way, poetry (and trance) is a preventive medicine against the incredibly debilitating disease of the idealization of the normal. At the least poetry and art (and trance and symptoms) are teaching that it is normal for the normal to be fragile, to break apart at any moment into one or more of its many paradoxical elements. Poetry (and trance) teaches you always to be on the lookout for the extraordinary in the so-called ‘normal.’ And this indeed is a healing knowledge.”  (words in italics added)
There is great wisdom in these words.   Whenever the limitations of the conscious identity state are too strong, the creative unconscious will step forward to bring new experiences and resources.  The specific form, meaning and value of the experience is determined by the human connection to it.  One of the crucial ideas of generative trance is:
An experiential pattern from the creative unconscious can be positive or negative, depending on the human connection to it.
In other words, there is no innate meaning or value to any experience.  To reiterate from an earlier blog, reality is constructed by an observing (human consciousness) interacting with the quantum world of the creative unconscious.  More plainly stated the state you’re in when you connect with an experiential pattern determines its meaning, value, form, and subsequent folding.
If an experience seems to have no positive value, it reflects a relationship history in which the pattern was not positively valued.
For example, let’s consider sexuality, a core energy and pattern of each human being.  At its core level, it is beyond “good” or “bad”, it just is.  Let’s now imagine that sexual energy first awakening in a young boy, and it being witnessed by his family and social environment.  If met with negative human presence (e.g., hostility, anxiety), that relational connection will create a negative experience of sexuality in the boy.  That resulting identity image may be further reinforced, leading to a negative sexual identity that plays out in various ways as an adult.  But the negative sexual behaviors as an adult doesn’t mean his sexuality is inherently bad, just that the previous human relational connections with it were negative.
This is where trance work can be helpful: it allows the previous psychological frames to be released (this is what an induction is for), and new frames to be developed, resulting in a more positive identity map to be experienced and expressing.  This allows us to distinguish (1) the psychobiologically necessary experience of trance from (2) the psychosocial human relational context (such as hypnosis) used to shape it and give it value.
Hypnosis is a context for humanizing and shaping trance
At every moment a new species arises in the chest –
Now a demon, now an angel, now a wild animal.
There are also those in this amazing jungle
who can absorb you into their own surrender.
If you have to stalk and steal something,
steal from them.
Rumi, “A goat kneels”
Trance can be negative or positive, depending on the human presence connecting with it.  It can take many forms: In Africa, trances often involve wild shaking; in Bali, they are expressed as sensual possession trances; in the West, trances most often involve an immobile or slumped body following the verbal commands of the outside expert (‘’hypnotist”).
This infinite variety of forms and functions of trance allows us to see clearly the difference between trance and hypnosis.  Trance is the psychobiologically essential experience of human consciousness that occurs whenever ego identity is destabilized, while hypnosis is one of the psycho-social rituals that give human shape and form and meaning to the trance.  Trance is the experience, hypnosis is the context.  And of course as this context changes, the experiential form and meaning of trance changes.
Seeing that the quality of a trance experience is a function of the human context in which it is held, we can then see the “negative trance” of a symptom reflects the degraded state of consciousness in which the creative unconscious is being held. For example, if you are caught in the neuromuscular lock of “fight, flight, or freeze”, any experience that arises will tend to be experienced and expressed in a negative fashion.  More important, if you can put primary emphasis on developing and then maintaining a high level generative state of “creative flow,” any experience that arises can be “invited to tea” and met with confidence, curiosity, resourcefulness, and transformational skill.  This is the core underlying premise of Milton Erickson’s principle: that a negative experience can be transformed into a positive one by virtue of bringing it into a high state of consciousness—that is, a generative trance—where it is engaged with creative acceptance, skillful sponsorship, and genuine respect and curiosity.  This is the promise of the work, and the beauty of the practice.

Stephen Gilligan, Ph.D.
May 10, 2011

domingo, mayo 13, 2012


Articulos de Stephen Gilligan

Both Sides Now:
Complementarity and Generative Trance

by Stephen Gilligan, Ph.D.

(The soul) doesn’t see joy and sorrow
as two different feelings.
It is with us
only in their union.
We can count on it
when we’re not sure of anything
and curious about everything.
W. Symborska (“A little bit about the soul”)
The great quantum physicist, Neils Bohr, used to say that there are two types of truth.  In the shallow type, the opposite of a true statement is false; in the deeper type, the opposite of a true statement is equally true.  In generative trance work, these two levels correspond to the conscious mind and the creative unconscious.  We see the conscious mind as being tied to a specific position in a systemic field (of many positions), while the creative unconscious rests in the field (of all positions).  We further see the conscious mind as being helpful when we want to repeat previous patterns, while the creative unconscious is better when new patterns or understandings are needed.
Of course, it is easy to get stuck in the rigid positions of the conscious mind, and thus repeat the past.  A main focus of generative trance work is thus how to free consciousness from fixed positions, so that new learnings may occur. A central method in this regard is the process of complementarity, wherein attention is simultaneously attuned to multiple (often contradictory) positions—for example, I am wounded AND I am whole and unwounded, or I am connected with others AND I am separate. When held in a centered, open way, these “both/and” patterns break the “tyranny of the single truth” and open the gateways into the “infinite possibilities” of the creative self.  However, these same patterns, when held in a disintegrated context (such as stress), can throw us into the abyss of symptoms and sufferings. This blog explores how these general understandings constitute a cornerstone of generative trance work.

1.  Duality is the basic psychological unit underlying experiential realities.

At its core, the cognitive mind is organized around dualities.   Everything contains its opposite, and reality is constructed through a dynamic relationship between these opposites: Breathing in and breathing out, self and other, stillness and movement, etc.  One of the basic differences between the conscious mind and the creative unconscious lies in this relationship between opposites: The conscious mind organizes around “either/or” relationships and gives preferential focus to one side of the complementarity over the other, while the creative unconscious holds a “both/and” relationship in which both sides are simultaneously engaged.

2.  When opposites are held in rhythmic balance, life goes well.
In that the conscious mind can be seen as the managerial facilitator of the vision of the creative unconscious, a balanced shifting between positions makes sense.  For to create anything in the world, one value must be chosen over another at any given point.  To walk, for example, we need to put one foot forward, then the other, then back to the first, etc.  As long as there is a rhythmic balance, there is no problem.  We work hard, then we rest, then we work again; we connect with others until we need solitude, which then brings us back into connection with others; we have a stable map that eventually becomes untenable and unstable, which leads to a new stability.  In this way, the conscious mind realizes the vision of the creative unconscious (see McGilchrist, 2010).1

3. When opposites are held in rigid opposition, with one side represented as “good” against another labeled “bad,” problems and symptoms develop.
While each side of a complementarity can be used in either positive or negative ways, and can be experienced and expressed in a virtually infinite number of possible forms, it is easy to get locked into fixed values and judgments.  This blocks the rhythmic shifting between opposites that is crucial to creative unfolding, and thereby creates symptoms.  For example, Claire grew up in a family where a core rule was, “Always work hard,” with the corollary injunctions to “never rest” and “never take it easy.”  The family was exceptional, most members being highly successful people who also did significant community work.  They resembled the old Kennedy family clan, where vacations were spent engaged in vigorous, mandatory athletic competitions.
In this family, the fixed values were around the complementarity of “active/rest”–being active was “good” and meant always work and be successful in the world, while rest was “bad” and meant sitting around and feeling guilty and worthless. This is an example of the conscious mind biasing one side over the other, which if held in neuromuscular lock will produce a rigid imbalance. Jung used to say that the unconscious is always compensatory to—i.e., trying to balance—the imbalances of the conscious mind. Thus, it was not surprising that Claire developed a symptom involving not being able to be active, i.e., a strange type of chronic fatigue that left her bedridden and unable to work.  In the generative trance model, the symptom is in a negative form because its core pattern is being held in a negative human relationship.
A major focus of generative trance is how to hold both sides of a relationship in positive ways, and then see how they can “make love, not war.”  Thus, Claire was helped into a generative trance and invited to welcome the part of her that was experiencing chronic fatigue.  When I asked this part her intention and need, the heart-touching response came:
I just want to surrender.
After a few moments of silence, she added,
But I love my work so much.
To her fixed understandings, these complementary needs—the yin of surrender and the yang of work—were mutually exclusive, thereby generating a symptom.  In generative trance, we explore how the conflicting sides of a symptom may be experienced as parts of a deeper unity, such that their balanced integration allows creative breakthroughs, rather than destructive breakdowns.  Claire was thus invited in trance to allow her creative unconscious to develop new ways to experience and express integrated forms of this complementarity, i.e., to BOTH do good work AND stay connected and relaxed. Finding a balance between the two sides became the integral part of her healing process.
4. When both sides of a complementarity are held negatively and activated simultaneously, deep splits and negative symptoms occur.
While usually one side of a complementarity is more dominant, periodically both sides are simultaneously and equally activated.  This produces a strange and powerful effect: The conscious mind falls apart and the quantum field of the unconscious opens.  This could be something as simple and enjoyable as a good joke.  One of Milton Erickson’s favorites was the following:
Mr. and Mrs. Bigger had a baby and everybody wanted to know who was the biggest Bigger.
Of course, the baby was a little Bigger.
The laughter from a joke occurs when the two different positional frames—in this case, Bigger and bigger—are simultaneously held.  The bindings of the conscious mind are popped and the creative unconscious releases with the musicality of laughter.
In generative trance work, we see the holding of opposite sides of a complementarity as a succinct formula for generating a trance. An equally important premise is that the unconscious can be positive or negative, depending on the human relationship with it; thus, some of the resulting trances can be decidedly negative.  For example, Bateson’s (1955/1972)2 research with schizophrenia led him to propose a “double bind” communicational theory in which schizophrenic experience and behavior was a response to contradictory messages given in a negative context.   Thus, a mother might repeatedly implore her child to come closer (as a verbal message) while also insisting he stay away (as a nonverbal message).   These double messages would be accompanied by three unspoken rules : (1) You can’t meta-comment on the double messages; (2) Whichever message you respond to, you’re wrong, and (3) You can’t leave the context. According to Bateson, this schizophrenogenic double bind pattern would evoke a structurally similar response in the recipient, namely, “schizo” (split) “phrenos” (mind).
More recently, a similar sort of negative double bind has been proposed by Peter Levine (2010) in his ground-breaking work on trauma.3  He describes a cross-species response to traumatic threat, a sort of “trauma trance” where an animal gets locked in frozen immobility or folds into helplessness.  He especially emphasizes how the initial response to threat is either to run away or fight back.  If neither of these limb-based responses are available, it sets up a sort of “negative double bind” that produces the “trauma trance.”
In a more general way, we can see most symptoms in terms of a violent clash between opposites.  A simple representation of a problem is,
I want X but Y happens instead.
In such cases, X and Y can be seen as complements that, when activated in a mutually inhibitory relationship, overwhelm the single position of the conscious mind and create a disturbed (unintegrated) experience of the “both/and” unconscious, i.e. a negative trance or symptom.  As we will see, trance provides a safe and resilient context in which conflicting parts can be untangled and then integrated into a complementary unity.
5. When both sides of a complementarity are held positively and activated simultaneously, creative integration and new consciousness occurs.
One of Bateson’s (1955/1972) most extraordinary contributions came in his elaboration of the “double message” communication beyond schizophrenia, in which he suggested that all distinctly human communications contained double messages.  This includes humor; play; mature love (where two partners create a space that includes the different individual position, plus a third “we” position); and hypnosis (where there are two levels of experience, the conscious and unconscious minds).  In these contexts, the “both/and” quality of the communication opens a deeper dimension beyond the single frame of the conscious mind.  In his later work, he emphasized how any ecological map must minimally carry “double description”—that is, at least two different, even contradictory perspectives.  When the different descriptions are aesthetically combined, a deeper dimension is opened, much like the process of binocular vision or stereophonic listening.
This capacity to experience seemingly contradictory realities in trance is known as trance logic (Orne, 19594), and is generally regarded as one of the defining phenomena of trance experience.  It reflects partly the structure of hypnotic communications, where the paradoxical suggestion is given for the person to do something, but not at a conscious level —for example, your hand will begin to lift all by itself, without your conscious effort. The resulting experience is a paradoxical, I’m BOTH lifting my hand AND I’m not (consciously) lifting my hand.
This trance logic takes many different forms.  For example, when I was 20 years old, I was sitting in Erickson’s office with a friend of mine.  Paul, also 20, had a big mustache at the time.  Erickson guided Paul into a very sweet trance involving age regression.  When asked, Paul reported he was 4 years old, and he really looked and sounded like it!  Ever playful, Erickson then asked Paul what was up on his (mustached) lip.  Paul momentarily looked alarmed, then said in his best 4 year old way, “Nothing!”  Erickson playfully persisted, suggesting that maybe Paul had eaten some corn flakes for breakfast, as something sure seemed to be up on his lip.  His suggestion that Paul reach up and touch his lip to see what was there was met with a staunch refusal. Erickson asked why not, and Paul said, “I know what’s up there!”   “What’s up there?”, Erickson asked. “Hair!”  Paul responded.  “What’s hair doing on the lip of a 4 year old boy?” Erickson inquired.  Paul paused, as if needing to go deeper into trance to consider the question, then brightened and responded, “Oh, that’s easy, that’s when I was older!”  Erickson laughed and agreed, “yes, that’s when you were older.”  He then talked about how in trance you could be both an adult and a child at the same time, in so many ways.
The value of such a possibility is hopefully self evident.  Imagine the creativity of “both sides now”—for example, having the maturity of an adult and the innocence of a child; or feeling a part of something yet also apart from it; or holding feelings of both wanting something and not needing it.
Interestingly, the capacity to enjoyably experience opposites has been found by a number of investigators to be a central characteristic of creative genius.  Arthur Koestler (1964), in his landmark book, The Act of Creation5, proposed that central to the creative process was the process of bisociation, where two previously unrelated ideas integrate together.  Frank Barron (1969)6 found that creative geniuses were strong in three areas: (1) the willingness/ability to sit in “not knowing” states of active curiosity; (2) a deep sense of unwavering unshakability once a conviction was developed; and (3) the appreciation of paradoxes, contradictions, and other forms of both/and logic.  In another study, this one of 91 creative geniuses, Csikszentmihalyi (1996)7 found that these extraordinary individuals shared 10 characteristics, all having to do with “both/and” qualities.  For example, they were intensely active and energetic, but spent considerable time in restful reverie and trance-like states; they were playful but also quite disciplined; and they both introverted and extroverted.
(6)  Generative trance is an excellent context for creatively working with the core complementaries underlying a reality or identity.
Its positive context allows each part of a systemic identity to experience acceptance, respect, and support.  Its deconstructive nature allows the different surface forms attached to a part to be dissolved, and new possible forms to be explored.  Its fluidity allows many new possible connections to be explored.  In a core sense, generative trance is a creative field that carries virtually unlimited potential for new consciousness.  A person shifts from identification with one position (against another) to a field that holds the interplay of all the perspectives in the field.  Thus, conflicting relationships can be untangled and put back into play, allowing new connections to slowly move towards an integrative crescendo that gives birth to new dimensions.
The above comments only faintly hint at the central importance of both/and logic to creative consciousness.  Happiness, health, healing, and creative performance are all expressions of an aesthetic intelligence that integrates the parts and the whole of a systemic identity.  Examples of such aesthetic intelligence include a musical symphony, a good meal, an excellent book, a well-functioning family or business, or a creative person.  In such systems, multiple positions dynamically work to create something beyond the sum of the parts.
All parts are not the same in such a system.  In fact, a core pattern is the juxtaposition of opposite parts: point and counter-point, sweet and sour, joy and suffering, etc.  This coming together of opposites is sometimes called the “the magic of conflict” in the martial art of aikido, wherein differences blend to create something new.  (Remember, this is how each of us was created!)   This creative growth requires an underlying context wherein each side is equally respected, valued, and included.  When this does not happen, the conflict creates symptoms and sufferings.
In Generative Trance work, we are always on the look-out for how creative wholeness may be realized.  For every truth or position that is expressed, we are interested in the underlying complementary position(s) that brings consciousness to a greater integrity.  By weaving these opposite positions into a musical mandala within the non-dual field of generative trance, a genuine growth of Self may occur.  And this, to be sure, is a worthwhile experience.
Stephen Gilligan, Ph.D.
May 6, 2012
1 McGilchrist, I. (2010) The Master and His Emissary: The Divided Brain and the Making of the Western World. New Haven: Yale University Press.
2 Bateson, G. (1955/1972). A theory of play and fantasy: A report on the theoretical aspects of the project for study of the role of paradoxes of abstraction in communication. In G. Bateson (1972), Steos to an Ecology of Mind. New York: Ballantine Books.
3 Levine, Peter A. (2010). In an unspoken voice: How the body releases trauma and restores goodness. Berkeley, CA: North Atlantic Books.
4 Orne, M.T. (1959). The nature of hypnosis Artifact and essence. Journal of Abnormal and Social Psychology, 58, 277-299.
5 Koestler, A. (1964) The Act of Creation: A study of the conscious and unconscious in science and art. New York: Macmillan.
6 Barron, F. (1969). Creative Person, Creative Process. New York: Holt, Rinehart & Winston.
7 Csikszentmihalyi, M. (1996). Creativity: Flow and the psychology of discovery and invention. New York: Harper Collins.

sábado, mayo 12, 2012


Carlitos Castaneda y Terence Mckenna

Las (des)condiciones del pájaro solitario de Carlos Castaneda 

Autor: Aleph de Pourtales

Acercamientos a una praxis psicológica de la obra de Castaneda: El ave solitaria, incolora, sin impronta, simbólica del hombre que deja el mundo para ser él mismo y convertirse así en todo.
Carlos Castaneda cita a San Juan de la Cruz, el poeta místico español como epígrafe a su libro Relatos de Poder.  La cita es importante ya que de alguna manera, como un símbolo, sintetiza todo un cuerpo de conocimiento:
Las condiciones del pájaro solitario son cinco. La primera, que se va a lo más alto; la segunda, que no sufre compañía aunque sea de su naturaleza; la tercera, que pone el pico al aire; la cuarta, que no tiene determinado color; la quinta, que canta suavemente.
Los hombres de conocimiento de la tradición que enseña Don Juan Matus, el mítico brujo que toma “bajo su ala” a Castaneda, se convierten literal y metafóricamente en ese pájaro solitario. El vuelo es abstracto pero necesita del ejemplo de la concreción para elevarse a las aluras de los cielos metafísicos.
Si bien la obra de Castaneda plantea una disciplina extraordinaria (impecable en sus palabras), casi impracticable para un hombre común embebido en el paradigma cultural que padecemos, la idea fundamental del pájaro solitario contiene una enseñanza hasta cierto punto accesible y, sobre todo, sumamente relevante para nuestra experiencia cotidiana. Admite una lectura dentro de un marco de psicología existencial, donde no necesariamente se tiene que pertenecer a y practicar una tradición oculta, como el llamado sendero del nagual. Básicamente: el descondicionamiento o la desprogramación de la colectividad para el surgimiento de la individualidad. La máxima que todos hemos escuchado al punto del lugar común: sé tú mismo.
Si es que existe dentro de nosotros un espíritu allende y sobre todo aquende la ilusión del ego y de la construcción lingüística del yo (de ese diálogo interno que modela un mundo límite), entonces la forma de acceder o, mejor dicho, de ser poseído por el espíritu es abandonar la programación cultural de la que somos objeto. “La cultura es tu sistema operativo”, dijo Terence Mckenna haciendo uso del lenguaje cibernético, y dentro de ese código existen solamente ciertas posibilidades de ejecución: no podemos volar si somos hombres como los hombres. Pero si somos un hombre solitario, “que no sufre  compañia aunque sea de su naturaleza” podemos no tener “determinado color” y elevarnos a las alturas intocadas. Paradójicamente el pájaro-hombre solitario es el que está más unido con toda la existencia, al estar unido consigo mismo. La palabra alone proviene de all-one: todo uno.
No es necesario invocar dotes espirituales de mística trascendental para asimilar esto y dar fruto. La verdadera divisa de cambio del universo es la energía; vivimos en un mercado voraz — vampírico en su inconciencia– de flujos energéticos, devorando y siendo devorados por nuestros semejantes y posiblemente por fuerzas y entidades invisibles. Todas nuestras relaciones son transferencias de energía, pero dentro de esta vorágine en la que rara vez tenemos control, es posible encontrar un equilibrio que es también una ética. De entrada alimentarse del sí mismo de tal forma que no necesitemos conectarnos permanente a la corriente energética del sistema colectivo y cultural de nuestros semejantes. Conjeturo que, y esto es una teoría optimista, sólo así sería posible entablar una circulación de energía no-predatorial. Tal vez esta sea la física iluminada del amor: una relación alada en la cual la energía no se se consume, se crea. Y al crear más energía el universo lo celebra y te sonríe. Ese es el polvo de luz, el polvo de hadas, el polvo enamorado más allá de la muerte.

viernes, mayo 11, 2012

Un Viaje Generativo

Historias Del Trance Camp

Milton Erickson  y el Muchacho Grande
Por Félix Gómez

Escuche esta historia en uno de Los días del Trance Camp  y me pareció muy ilustrativa para entender el principio de utilización  de Erickson. 
Puedes agregar esto a  tu campo.
En una ocasión una Madre soltera desesperada, llevo a su hijo de 11 años al consultorio de Milton Erickson, el  chico desafiaba constantemente a su Madre y no Le ayudaba  ni  obedecía   dentro y  ni  fuera del hogar, la mujer pensó que el Dr Erickson podría ayudarla, entraron juntos al consultorio, cuando  Erickson les invito a sentarte, el chico le grito desafiante a Erickson,  “Yo soy un chico Grande y no tengo por qué obedecerle viejo feo ,  y golpeo fuerte  el piso con sus pies”.
Erickson le pidió a la Madre que lo  dejara solo con el chico, entonces Erickson Le dijo” sabes algo, no creo que seas  un chico Grande, un chico realmente Grande patearías al menos 15 veces con más fuerza el piso”.
El chico lo escucho molesto y empezó a  patear con fuerza de nuevo el piso, mientras Erickson se dedicó a escribir y a ignorarlo, cinco minutos después el chico estaba exhausto y Lucia preocupado, Erickson  comenzó a fijarse  en  la silla  de al frente y luego  en el chico con  un ritmo alternante cada vez más rápido.
Cuando es chico estaba lo suficientemente   cansado y confundido, Erickson  Le dijo Mirando la silla  “un chico Grande sabe que cuando está cansado puede descansar en una silla “.
El chico fue directamente a la silla y se desplomo en Ella, a lo que Erickson agrego
“y un chico Grande también sabe cuándo cerrar Los ojos, para tomar sus propias decisiones, descansar  para poder probar su fuerza de chico Grande de muchas maneras diferentes por ejemplo  ayudando a una mujer que necesita la fuerza  de un muchacho  muy Grande…..”
Seis meses  después   la Esposa de Erickson recibió una llamada  de la Madre del chico, para agradecerle al Dr Erickson por que el “Chico Grande” se había convertido en un joven responsable tanto en las tareas de la casa como en el colegio.

Trance Camp

lunes, mayo 07, 2012

Guerra de Tronos

Los Libros del Viaje

  Juego De Tronos  De  George R. R. Martin

Nieta de la épica antigua (Epopeya de Gilgamesh; la Ilíada y la Odisea, de Homero; Las Argonáuticas, de Apolonio de Rodas; la Eneida, de Virgilio; el Ramayana) e hija de la épica medieval (Beowulf, Cantar de los Nibelungos, Cantar de Roldán, Cantar del Mío Cid), la épica fantástica contemporánea nos narra las aventuras de héroes y villanos librando la interminable batalla entre el bien y el mal en mundos medievales, aderezado de reyes, caballeros, castillos, hechicería y creaturas mitológicas como dragones, unicornios, gigantes y gnomos. Esta nueva épica, que tiene como máxima referencia la trilogía El señor de los anillos, de J. R. R. Tolkien, cuenta entre sus exponentes destacados a Historias de Terramar, de Ursula Le Guin; Crónicas de Narnia, de C. S. Lewis; La historia interminable, de Michael Ende; Harry Potter, de J. K. Rowling; Mundo de tinta, de Cornelia Funke; Memorias de Idhún, de Laura Gallego; y Canción de hielo y fuego, de George R. R. Martin, cuyo poderoso primer tomo, Juego de tronos, me ocupa ahora.
A juzgar por su primera entrega, no es casual el éxito apabullante de esta saga. Millones de ejemplares vendidos, traducciones a treinta idiomas, la aprobación prácticamente unánime de críticos y lectores, y una exitosa adaptación televisiva dan cuenta de su amplia aceptación. Se trata, sin duda, de una obra mayor, de gran ambición, que merece un lugar de privilegio no solo entre sus semejantes, sino entre la mejor literatura a secas.
Al norte de los Siete Reinos, en la fría población de Invernalia, Eddard Stark y los suyos (su mujer, dos hijas y tres hijos legítimos, un hijo bastardo y decenas de subordinados) llevan una vida apacible, a la espera de un invierno cruel que siempre está por llegar y que ya lleva siete años sin presentarse. La calma tocará a su fin muy pronto: el rey Robert Baratheon viaja a Invernalia con toda su corte desde el cálido sur para pedir a su gran amigo Ned (Eddard) que acepte ser su mano derecha, con lo cual el norteño tomaría las riendas de los Siete Reinos. El primer impulso de Ned es rechazar el ofrecimiento: detesta las intrigas palaciegas y ama la vida que lleva en Invernalia. Pero, además de que un no sería una grave ofensa para su amigo, lo convence la posibilidad de investigar si el cuñado de su mujer,  Jon Arryn, anterior mano derecha del rey, murió de una fiebre severa o fue asesinado por los Lannister, familia política de Robert. Así comienza la aventura de Ned, que lo llevará a enfrentarse a la telaraña de mentiras, traiciones, embrollos y hambre de poder palaciegos, y de la cual difícilmente saldrá indemne.
George R.R. Martin (foto: Yerpo/wikimedia)
A diferencia de otras novelas de épica fantástica, en Juego de tronos la perspectiva dominante no es la del héroe principal: aunque el narrador siempre es el mismo, uno en tercera persona, el foco rota de capítulo a capítulo. Si no me olvido de alguna, son ocho las perspectivas consignadas que se van alternando en un orden no estricto, sino flexible: la de Ned; la de su esposa Catelyn; las de sus hijos Bran, Arya, Sansa y Jon; la de Tyrion, el hijo enano y taimado de los Lannister, un personaje ambiguo y complejo; y la de Daenerys, la hija más pequeña del rey muerto y destronado años atrás por Robert y Ned, la cual buscará recuperar el trono perdido junto a su hermano Viserys. Este multiperspectivismo enriquece la historia narrada al darnos a conocer los puntos de vista de personajes con visiones del mundo variadas e incluso contrapuestas, sin que ninguna de ellas aparezca caricaturizada. El autor se esfuerza por entender las pasiones y anhelos de sus personajes centrales, por muy burdas o ingenuas que resulten. Otra diferencia entre este libro y otros de su género es que la primera parte de Canción de hielo y fuego no escamotea las bajas pasiones de sus personajes: la lujuria, el sexo, la vulgaridad y el incesto desfilan con naturalidad por sus páginas.
A pesar de sus casi 800 páginas en letra pequeña de la edición reciente de Plaza y Janés en México, Juego de tronos se lee con creciente interés, sin tramos pedregosos. La tensión se va intensificando gracias a su sólida trama; a ello se suman algunas incógnitas que azuzan aún más la curiosidad de quien lee (en algunos pasajes, incluso, Ned Stark hace el papel de detective). Pero el arte del buen narrar no es el único atributo del libro. También lo son la complejidad en la caracterización de los personajes principales, que suelen estar atravesados de claroscuros y que nunca se confunden unos con otros, y la profundidad de su indagación en el anhelo de poder de sus creaturas ficticias.
Si bien la magia no abunda en el libro, como bien han señalado otros comentaristas, sí está presente de forma discreta y promete una aparición de mayor peso en próximas entregas. Muchas preguntas quedan pendientes al final de este volumen, no solo relativas a la guerra por el trono, sino a la amenaza de unas criaturas aterradoras que se acercan por el norte y al inminente regreso de la heredera del rey depuesto. Estos enigmas no parecen trampas puestos por el autor para comprometer a sus lectores a continuar con la serie, sino el avance natural y necesario de la trama.
Aunque son diversos los conflictos que aborda la novela (el nacer bastardo en una sociedad en la que serlo es una gran limitación, el asumir la invalidez en la juventud, el anhelar un papel que uno no puede cumplir según las normas imperantes, el descubrir que la vida es menos heroica e ideal que en las canciones, el aprender a sobrellevar la deformidad y el rechazo), quizá su centro sea el poder: el anhelarlo, el conseguirlo, el ejercerlo, el perderlo. Aunque situado en un pasado imaginario, remoto, el libro no es ajeno a las pasiones humanas actuales, que no difieren, en esencia, de las antiguas: el hambre de poder sigue moviendo los hilos que terminan por marcar el rumbo de sociedades enteras. Leer ficción, pues, sirve para entretenerse, para ganarle la partida a la monotonía, para desafiar la condena de tener una sola vida y desear muchas, pero también para descubrir cómo somos, tanto al interior, en diálogo con nosotros mismos, como en interacción con los otros, semejantes y divergentes, espejos y deformaciones. Confirmo esta idea leyendo Juego de tronos.

martes, mayo 01, 2012

Trance Camp 2012

Felix Gomez ,M.D Profesional Profile

Felix Gomez, Venezuelan psychotherapist, with expertise in behavioral guidance and expertise in mental health in Australia. EMDR has been a member of the Australian Association (2007) and the Latin American Association of Behavior Modification.

He has worked for over two decades, as a lecturer and facilitator of groups in the area of education, personal development, creativity and health. In Latin America and Australia, has focused his work on the mental health field with groups of immigrants, refugees, people with disability, community centers and various organizations in New South Wales, Australia.

Introduced and worked for over a decade in Venezuela, training for health professionals with the model of "The Relationship of Self" by Dr. Stephen Gilligan, the use of "Cognitive Therapy and Hypnosis for Management of Depression "Dr. Michael Yapko, as well as" Hypnotherapy and Brief Therapy Solution Focused "by Bill O Hannlon.

Developed the first community programs in the state of Miranda in Venezuela, for the prevention of violence and the culture of peace, integrating tools such as "NLP, the Art Therapy and Dance Therapy" which was successfully completed, leading a team multidisciplinary mental health professionals.

He worked intensively on integrating coaching with EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing), NLP (Neuro Linguistic Programming) and Ericksonian Hypnosis for optimal athletic performance of the Venezuelan National Apnea, which won the world championship in Hawaii 2002. It is worth mentioning among them the sportsman world champion Carlos Costes freediving (APNEA), who was the first person to descend 100 meters for the month of October 2003, Gerald Weill, named Latin American Surf champion in the year 2006, after nearly a year of psychological preparation, and world runner-up Keisa Monterola pole jump, among others.

In El Salvador, developed several studies in various institutions, and offers several lectures at the University of San Miguel and other education centers, introducing a model created by the same call "Hipnocreatividad" (integration of brief hypnotherapy and art therapy) to help people find resources and solutions in their professional contexts, personal, marital, family and community.

In 2010, with support from several Australian institutions, developed and facilitated the first program of more than three months of intervention in mental health for immigrants with depression, anxiety and culture shock, integrating art therapy, EMDR and neurolinguistic programming, through the use of music specifically created for therapeutic purposes, for the electroacoustic music teacher Dr. Angel Rada, which was recorded in the city of Newcastle in England, where Dr. Rada introduced his concept of "Fractal Music".

The current work of Dr. Felix Gomez, has a vision of "Transcultural Mental Health", a product of his experience in different parts of the world such as Latin America  and Australia, focusing on the integration of various therapeutic models and coaching as EMDR, Ericksonian Hypnosis, Neuro Linguistic Programming, Cognitive Therapy, Narrative Therapy, the Art Therapy, Clean Language, The Relationship of Self and the use of bodywork based on the work of Dr. Peter Levine (Somatic Experience) and Gabrielle Roth (Five Rhythm).
Felix Gomez   con Stephen Gilligan en el Trance Camp  
  en Sydney Australia
26 Abril 2012.