miércoles, mayo 30, 2012
sábado, mayo 26, 2012
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viernes, mayo 25, 2012
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.
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.
(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.
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.
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?
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.
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.
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
May 10, 2011
domingo, mayo 20, 2012
Riding Alone For Thousands Of Miles Trailer
Una de las mejores peliculas que he visto , es una sencilla pero poderosa historia de reencuentro con el self .
Felix G.
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.
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.
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
May 6, 2012
References
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
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.
lunes, mayo 07, 2012
Los Libros del Viaje
Juego De Tronos De George R. R. Martin
Por Javier Munguía | Reseñas | 17.03.12
http://www.revistadeletras.net/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.
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.
jueves, mayo 03, 2012
martes, mayo 01, 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).
en Sydney Australia
26 Abril 2012.
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