On Personal Change

As a coach and con­sul­tant, I often find myself help­ing clients with changes they would like to see them­selves make. It is quite nat­ur­al for the client, after quick­ly iden­ti­fy­ing what the change is about, to rush imme­di­ate­ly to the next ques­tion: “How do I do this?” Yet, truth be told, the empha­sis can be so strong­ly on the “how-to” part, which is behav­ioral and action ori­ent­ed, that it begs the ques­tion of whether a true first step in self-change has been com­plet­ed. What is that step?

This is not as eas­i­ly answered as it might sound. One could say that “self-aware­ness” or “self-knowl­edge” or even “mind­ful­ness,” the word of the day, needs to be present as a first step, but I believe it might be clos­er to “self-grok.”

For exam­ple, per­son­al­ly I have always strug­gled with two very impor­tant per­son­al ten­den­cies: 1) I can feel very dif­fer­ent from oth­er peo­ple in a debil­i­tat­ing way and 2) I can project neg­a­tive expla­na­tions onto sit­u­a­tions that are ambigu­ous. When these two pat­terns col­lide I can all too eas­i­ly put myself into a feel­ing state that is dev­as­tat­ing — put-down, shunned, iso­lat­ed, and exis­ten­tial­ly worth­less — over lit­er­al­ly noth­ing. Sure, I can see the down­side of these pat­terns for my work and for my life, and have for thir­ty years, but do the pat­terns actu­al­ly change? They are, after all, pow­er­ful fun­da­men­tals of my tem­pera­ment, and for all the con­tem­po­rary notions of neu­ro­plas­tic­i­ty, I find, like most peo­ple do, that it is not so easy to shift dynam­ics that have been in place most of one’s adult life. I can feel and see the pat­terns, and I can inter­vene, but the dynam­ic con­tin­ues to hap­pen, espe­cial­ly when under stress. It’s my reality.

Shadows1

The self-grok that makes it far eas­i­er for me to own this dif­fi­cul­ty, talk about it, and relieve some of its pain is relat­ed to Carl Jung’s arche­type called the Shad­ow. The Shad­ow is the area of our being that is “dark,” hav­ing become so as a prod­uct of inher­ent make-up and care­giv­er con­di­tion­ing. It rep­re­sents the sides of us that are unac­cept­able to express. If I become aggres­sive, for exam­ple, as I grow up in a fam­i­ly where overt dis­plays of aggres­sion are pun­ished, I learn quick­ly and painful­ly that I must throw my aggres­sive thoughts, feel­ings, and actions into the Shad­ow. They are still there, just locked in a hid­den place I have taught myself does­n’t exist. Of course, it does exist, and oth­ers may see it quite clear­ly, espe­cial­ly when aggres­sion “leaks” out through inad­ver­tent behav­ior. Robert Bly called this phe­nom­e­non, “the long bag we drag behind us.” The long bag is filled with all the parts of who we are that it is not okay to be. Social­ly unac­cept­able stuff goes there, like aggres­sion, but also parts of us that might have been use­ful and ful­fill­ing but not approved of in our ear­ly social envi­ron­ments. A per­son­’s cre­ativ­i­ty, for instance, might be thrown into the bag if it was too dis­rup­tive to a fam­i­ly sys­tem. The Shad­ow oper­ates, in part, as an uncon­scious­ly designed process of self-pro­tec­tion from instincts, feel­ings, and actions that are some­how “dan­ger­ous” with­in a child’s world. Lat­er, as adults, we grad­u­al­ly learn to reclaim those lost parts of ourselves.

The self-grok rec­og­nizes that the miss­ing pieces of me relat­ed to my desired change are part of what’s in the bag, that they are in fact here already, if uncon­scious, and even if an ongo­ing pat­tern of behav­ior seems to con­tra­dict that belief. In terms of my own ten­den­cies, there­fore, the crit­i­cal recog­ni­tion that makes change acces­si­ble is know­ing “the answer is already in the Shad­ow.” My desired growth is not entire­ly about prac­tice of a new behav­ior. That prac­tice has to be found­ed in the “dis­cov­ery” of the new behav­ior as already part of who I am, per­haps as tru­ly who I am.

It is true some peo­ple only get to that dis­cov­ery by try­ing a behav­ioral shift, but it isn’t the shift alone that works; it’s the see­ing that “the shift is me.” If the behav­iors I try on remain “out­side” of who I believe myself to be, I am like­ly to have a great deal more trou­ble ful­ly own­ing my pat­terns and doing much of any­thing about them. To keep push­ing in this way would be, in effect, sim­ply try­ing to throw more of me into Shad­ow. As an adult that just does­n’t work very well. It feels disin­gen­u­ous, and it is. More­over, the crit­i­cal recog­ni­tion of my uncon­scious strengths helps me dis-iden­ti­fy from the pat­terns I don’t like. Yes, they are part of me, but they are not all of me. I can see them as a struc­ture, an arti­fice, that at one time may have had val­ue, but not so much now.

The old brain grooves are there, but the capac­i­ty for self-grok is a mag­nif­i­cent anti­dote. It is like a pho­tog­ra­pher’s flash that, although lit only for the briefest moment, ful­ly reveals the scene. The self-grok is under­stand­ing intu­itive­ly, and “in a flash,” what’s in the bag, and it is this that cre­ates the actu­al capac­i­ty for change. If the answer isn’t already “in me,” how could I make any shift at all, except through force? In terms of my own pat­terns, it is the real­iza­tion that my con­nec­tions and my sim­i­lar­i­ties to oth­ers are already tru­ly here, if invis­i­ble at those moments when my ideas of dif­fer­ence from oth­ers over­take me, and that anoth­er more accu­rate and worth­while real­i­ty is present even as I make depres­sive pro­jec­tions onto oth­ers and my situation. 

Sup­pose you want­ed to write a book. Many of us do, but more than some do not. But let’s say the inner writer is in the Shad­ow. Instead of sit­ting down to force the writ­ing, let the inner writer, still in the Shad­ow, still uncon­scious, but here, inform your fin­gers on the keys. Let the Shad­ow writer begin to wake up. See what happens.

So that’s what I believe may be help­ful to you in order to begin mak­ing your own changes — an intu­itive pre­sen­ti­ment of who you ful­ly are. With­out that, there’s only the painful dis­ci­pline of try­ing in the face of what can feel to be a very large and demo­ti­vat­ing task. This pre­sen­ti­ment comes, in turn, from trust­ing your per­cep­tions of your own psy­cho­log­i­cal and spir­i­tu­al real­i­ty, your own sense of a unique world and cos­mos inde­pen­dent of what oth­ers see. This is the you that lives beyond lan­guage itself. It is intu­ition, pure and sim­ple, and yet is also know­ing in a most vis­cer­al way that the water of the stream you touch is as cold (and refresh­ing) as you feel it to be. No one has to tell you that, just as no one needs to tell you how to change; you already know how, for your­self alone.

Fol­low­ing this path, change always seems to come with some robust per­son­al mean­ing, which is to say it can­not be reduced to a strict, easy for­mu­la, but always acts as a com­ple­tion. It is more like the morn­ing shad­ows among the trees, beau­ti­ful and shift­ing, and dimin­ish­ing as the sun ris­es high­er, herald­ing a day meant to come.

Shadows2

RSS and email sub­scrip­tion, month­ly Unfold­ing Lead­er­ship newslet­ter, search and oth­er func­tions may be found at the “Fur­ther Infor­ma­tion” tab at the bot­tom of this page.

Pin­ter­est users, you can pin pic­tures from this weblog via this Board.

By Dan Oestreich

I am a consultant, coach, facilitator and trainer supporting the growth and development of leaders and teams. For further information about my work and services, please access my Oestreich Associates website.

10 comments

  1. Beau­ti­ful­ly vul­ner­a­ble and love­ly share mhy friend. I love how you so will­ing­ly share parts of your inner land­scape as not some­thing to be afraid of and pro­tect (Oh no! What if they find me out!) but as some­thing as nor­mal and nat­ur­al as any­thing else in the world. 

    Per­son­al­ly, I love what I’ve read of Jung so far. Main­ly through the lens of oth­er authors such as David Richo who wrote Shad­ow Dance, which is all about the arche­types and shad­ows that you men­tion in your post. 

    You have already began to lift that dark and omi­nous lid of all that we’ve had to sup­press and deny grow­ing up and yet, we do car­ry so much of that into our adults world and rela­tions. Even as we strug­gle with dual­i­ties with­in us and all around us, it’s as if we make it all to hard and mis­in­ter­pret what is going on. 

    Our invi­ta­tion isn’t so much about try­ing to elim­i­nate ANYTHING as much as it is try­ing to be acknowl­edged and seen. Wit­nessed. And integrated. 

    Only what we con­tin­ue to DENY con­tin­ues to cre­ate the heavy wake in our con­scious­ness and leave the echo­ing tremors rip­pling through­out our bodies. 

    Yet only in safe­ty can we allow the con­ver­sa­tion and wit­ness­ing to unfold. 

    I was so hap­py to have been intro­duced to an inter­view of John O’Dono­hue yes­ter­day (via Nic Askew) and fell asleep lis­ten­ing to it last night ( not due to bore­dom, it was sim­ply late! haha) …final­ly com­plet­ing it this morn­ing. Once again, I was remind­ed of how pow­er­ful con­ver­sa­tion is. Not so much in dic­ta­tions or pre­tend­ing to know any­thing but in the art of trans­la­tion of what we dis­cov­er while we’re on the journey! 

    I LOVED hear­ing his voice tell the sto­ries, read the poems and the calm­ing nature of his pres­ence and that of the inter­view­er that tran­scends time and space and per­me­ates the listener. 

    Your writ­ings have a sim­i­lar affect, which is why I love them so much. 

    Thank you so much for anoth­er won­drous share Dan.

  2. Dear Saman­tha~

    Great take:
    “Our invi­ta­tion isn’t so much about try­ing to elim­i­nate ANYTHING as much as it is try­ing to be acknowl­edged and seen. Wit­nessed. And integrated.”

    This is such an impor­tant truth. It’s not about get­ting rid of aspects of who you are, but find­ing a place for them, their mean­ing, their sub­tle trans­for­ma­tions as the jig­saw fits togeth­er. Even very tough emo­tions, like anger, can have a pro­found truth at their core. We do not need to be afraid of our dis­cov­er­ies — they will in the end only help us ful­fill our des­tinies — a phrase Jung used in the auto­bi­o­graph­ic writ­ing, Mem­o­ries, Dreams, Reflec­tions. It is one of my favorite books about pre­cise­ly the wis­dom have expressed.

    All the best
    ~Dan

  3. Dear Anne-Marie~

    Thank you so much for tak­ing a moment to com­ment on this post. Such a pas­sion­ate affir­ma­tion! I love it!

    All the best
    ~Dan

  4. Thank you Dan. I could feel the shad­ow whis­per­ing even as I read this. The answers are often found in the places we don’t want to look. Beau­ti­ful descrip­tion of this journey.

  5. Thank you Dan! This comes for me at a very try­ing time in my life when all that I know myself to be seems ill suit­ed for the task at hand. I need to trust that the bag holds what I think I lack.

  6. Dear Scott~

    It’s always great to see your com­ments here. I real­ly like the notion that there’s a “whis­per.” That’s a great way to point to intu­ition as a need­ed resource for the jour­ney. Learn­ing to trust that whis­per can be a vital part of the work. 

    Much appre­ci­at­ed!

    Best
    ~Dan

  7. Dear Ter­ry~

    I am glad this post offers some inspi­ra­tion and sup­port to you at an impor­tant time. Here are a cou­ple of addi­tion­al thoughts that may be helpful.

    First, if some­thing is in the Shad­ow, it means you can­not see it or feel it direct­ly — so don’t expect to. Intu­ition is key; it’s a hunch, which is like low­er­ing a water buck­et into dark­ness. Sense that the water is there even if you can’t hear it or see it.

    Look for inner voic­es that say you don’t have or can’t have some spe­cif­ic things you feel you need. If you hear your­self say­ing phras­es such as “I’m not smart enough .…” or “I’m not coura­geous enough.…” or I’m not per­sis­tent enough…”, that’s a sol­id clue about what you’ve thrown into the dark­ness — your intel­li­gence, your courage or your per­sis­tence. It’s still there, even if you can’t quite feel it yet. Know that; have faith in that, be sur­prised by how it actu­al­ly begins to show up.

    Firm­ly acknowl­edge and own the spe­cif­ic pat­terns of think­ing or behav­ior that you believe will hijack you and refuse to be ashamed or embar­rassed or in any oth­er way stopped by those pat­terns. Talk about them with your friends, if you like. Then let your heart decide on the anti­dote for your­self alone rather than allow the pat­terns you see to be inflamed by rigid self-judg­ment or the opin­ion of others.

    Remem­ber that tak­ing things out of the bag is often a slow process. It does­n’t nec­es­sar­i­ly hap­pen all at once. First, real­i­ty rat­tles, there’s some cog­ni­tive dis­so­nance and inner ten­sion, then a sense of dan­ger as the old voic­es try to con­vince you to main­tain the sta­tus quo.

    Be easy about this. Let the Dev­il have its due. Abjure per­fec­tion­ism. Read (or re-read) this poem. And this one. And this one.

    If you like, email me with more details about your sit­u­a­tion via this page for some addi­tion­al per­son­al support. 

    All the best
    ~Dan

  8. Anoth­er won­der­ful­ly intro­spec­tive piece Dan. I like the pho­tog­ra­pher’s flash anal­o­gy. It is that larg­er whole which calls us to sur­ren­der our iden­ti­fi­ca­tion with our nar­row­er selves.

    Out­ward­ly, this may look like sub­mis­sion, when we appear to be more accept­ing of those against whom we had pro­ject­ed a dark shad­ow; or defi­ance, when we appear to be more crit­i­cal of those toward whom we had pro­ject­ed a gold­en shad­ow. But those are rel­a­tive, exter­nal com­par­isons. Inward­ly, it’s about rec­og­niz­ing the larg­er whole illu­mi­nat­ed by the flash, and realign­ing our actions when­ev­er we find our­selves drift­ing from its truth, our own truth.

    The fric­tion of this realign­ment is grate­ful­ly lubri­cat­ed by com­pas­sion. Com­pas­sion for our­selves, and com­pas­sion for oth­ers — which is con­veyed so elo­quent­ly in your writing.

  9. Dear Kar­tik~

    It is always such a plea­sure to receive your com­ments. This is a love­ly exten­sion of where I am going in this post, and how shifts in exter­nal rela­tions express dis­cov­er­ies with­in. The Shad­ow pro­jec­tions we make pos­i­tive­ly or neg­a­tive­ly are all deep learn­ing opportunities. 

    As to com­pas­sion, there is more writ­ing to be done. I don’t know that we con­nect the dots as eas­i­ly there, think­ing it is only a feel­ing for oth­er peo­ple, when what it seems to be is more a sense of pro­found con­nec­tion to a per­son­al spir­i­tu­al reality. 

    Thank you so much for shar­ing the water from your own wis­dom’s well!

    All the best
    ~Dan

Leave a comment

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.