Leaving the Drama Behind
(Interview with an
Enneagram Four)
Here's what I hope for. That we
think in terms of people who are learning the Enneagram to
understand the path is difficult in a way, that it really is
about a process of transformation, and they could have examples
of what can be painful and how it shifts, even if it's a matter
of degree. I'll start by asking how you
define transformation.
The
word "transformation" gives me a little bit of trouble because I
tend to think of transforming from something to
something, which is a one-shot deal, and that's not how I've
experienced it in my life. I think of an evolution of
consciousness that's endless. Transformation is a word we use in
the West because we want to get someplace.
And when you think about the
Enneagram, does that add to or change the way you think of
transformation?
No,
but I think in the process of our evolution we have things that
block us, that get in the way.
Leonard Laskow speaks of "treasured wounds" and beliefs. So
for me the exploration is often seeing how I've held things that
kept me from moving forward.
So the Enneagram is more a way to
help you see how you do that?
Yeah.
(Laughs) This is going to sound like a Four! I think my process
probably started when I was in college. That's when I became
clinically depressed and started searching. I've been searching
my whole life, but it got more critical then. My life has been a
process of either putting myself in situations that pushed the
envelope for me
– because I valued work and I'd put myself with
people who pushed me, personally and professionally. The other
thread is trying to figure out why the pain was there, why the
depression was there, "Why is this so hard?" so that was more
therapeutic. And I think both helped me evolve my consciousness,
all are pieces of the total. Just now I had a DNA image, and I
saw two strands interwoven but moving towards a destination.
In what
I've read, there's a theme of God pushing us against the edge,
but you're the first person I've talked to who has consciously
put yourself there.
It's
interesting, because the other image I keep getting is that
along the way you either move from pain or your move toward
possibilities. And this seems like two ends of a continuum. Then
as you resolve more and more of the pain issues, you move toward
the possibilities, what you want to create, the other end.
That is idealistically the best
of the Four moving forward.
Right
now in my life it's a mixture of both. I think I started with
more pain and now it's more of a mixture. And I've had
moments that were closer to the possibility end. Often it's
intellectual stimulation. A lot comes through work. There was a
professor who took me under his wing when I was an
undergraduate. I'd get involved in his experiments and I loved
doing it, but it also pushed me into areas I didn't know much
about, taking responsibility. Then when I got to graduate school
it was the same thing. I hated school so I applied for a
fellowship to help teach the Psychology of Interpersonal
Relationships course. I couldn't believe it. I walked in and he
said, "Sure, you can be on staff." And I thought, "Who, me?"
So you helped teach it?
Yeah! I
learned a lot and was always on the edge of what I thought I
knew how to do. Many of my stories are about people who saw
potential in me I probably didn't see in myself. If they hadn't
pushed I wouldn't have grabbed them by the neck and said, "I
want to do this!" Later on when I was working at (X company)
I attached myself to someone. I really loved his clarity of
language. And he always pushed me. I remember a situation
where he told me, "You've got to go over that person's head,"
and I said, "You can't do that." Essentially he pushed me to "do
what you believe in," to be more than I was at the moment. And
I've always attracted those kinds of relationships.
How about the more painful end of
the continuum?
The
painful end would be more depression. In graduate school I got
to where I couldn't move off my couch, and finally dragged
myself into a walk-in clinic and saw a therapist. I started to
confront some childhood relationships, and realized my whole
life I'd hit walls where I couldn't contain the emotions.
Unfortunately more times than I care to quote... That was an
exaggeration, that was dramatic.
Well, that's how you perceived
it. You've experienced the pain and you'd like for it not to
hurt so much.
Sometimes
I get embarrassed. If you knew the number of times I went for
help… like other people don't do that. Now it doesn't hit me so
severely. I feel I understand many of the core issues and it
goes quicker, it just doesn't have the same hold it used to have
on me. I get bouts of depression, but I haven't been clinically
depressed in a long time.
I'm assuming where you started in
this process of evolution is not where you are now. What
are some
typical issues?
I think
one of my core issues is not feeling I'm good enough, and it's
come out in a number of different ways. The other theme is
denying myself, either in wanting others' approval or in taking
on the energy of other people and it literally affects my own.
Early on I had so little sense of myself. I gave so much of
myself away. At some level in my mind I didn't exist. And
actually one of my main coping mechanisms was to go away: I used
to go away in my head. I finally figured out if there was
reincarnation I'd just have to come back, but I used to go away
in my head a lot. So many of my struggles were in learning to
get past that, to stay in real time, to stay in the midst of
whatever was scaring me, which was usually some threat to me,
often around not knowing. I always got rewarded for what I did,
so I put a lot of energy into being right. It was like being a
One, but not a One; it was a strategy for me. The time I was
most self-aware, it wasn’t going well and I started having
tunnel vision. And the more you do that, the more dysfunctional
you get, proving there’s something terribly wrong with
you. I was able to stop and breathe and shift. But it took me
many of those experiences, of not knowing what was going on yet
not feeling like a failure. I did a lot of work on “It’s O.K.
not to know.” A lot of “I really am O.K.” There are so many lies
that have been perpetrated, and we really are the generation
that can break out. I really believe that you suffer for the
sins of your fathers. There are a lot of wounded kids, and
there’s so much out there like the Enneagram—if you want help,
it’s out there, from body work to energetic work, you name it.
These
are practices that help you stay on the path?
I think
you start with where your interests are. When people follow what
they’re attracted to, that’s the grand scheme. There really is a
grand scheme and there’s no manual. It comes a paragraph at a
time, and it’s not necessarily through therapy. It’s what your
heart is calling you to do; and there’s usually a gift in it…an
experience you need so you can get fuller.
Say more about resources that
have been available to you.
There’s
actively seeking therapy. Saying to yourself, “I need help, I
can’t get through this. I need structure and someplace to do
that.” That helps me. I got really good at using therapy for
specific issues, and milked it for what it was worth. There were
some therapists I just needed to stay out of my way while I did
what I needed to do. Yoga classes helped me in ways I didn’t
understand at the time. In graduate school I’d be so outside
myself, I’d walk into doorjambs. Yoga helped me get in touch
with my body. And dance helped me--I never formally danced, but
I was really attracted to it. Most people go to discos to pick
people up—I went to dance. There were lots of times when people
just cared. When you’re coming from that place of feeling like
shit, it’s grace to have people who care, and I’ve been
blessed with a lot of grace in my life. I also started thinking
about alternative religious approaches. As a kid I always had a
strong religious connection but the church wasn’t doing it for
me. I read The Autobiography of a Yoga and started
working with some of those teachings and meditation practices.
I’ve had moments that were such gifts. When my job took me to
the West Coast I drove up to a lake by a temple of the
Self-Realization Fellowship, based on the teachings of
Yogananda, and went to a service. This was another one of those
times when I was feeling not good, and it was so clear that I
got a shot of love. It lasted only about five seconds—I couldn’t
hold it—but I never forgot it. One of Yogananda’s disciples has
a retreat center in northern Michigan, the ranch, and I always
get help when I go there. There was one time when my husband and
I were having a really hard time, and Yogananda’s disciple came
to me in my sleep and really helped me. If you take a step, the
universe really does answer. When you send out intent, you send
out vibrations. If you put out effort, you get three times the
help back.
Of all your experiences, are there any that stand
out as particularly transforming?
There
have been times when I had clear choices as to whether I was
going to go on or not. Not that I was suicidal, but that I
thought I’d go crazy. There were times when I’d lie in bed and
feel there was a battle between light and darkness inside, and
consciously choose God and light. I remember the first few years
of my marriage were just so hard and any number of times I felt
like walking. But I knew I needed to stay with it, to learn to
love, even though it made no sense
– there were a whole lot of
problems that were way over my head. And I’m glad I stayed with
it; I’ve learned a lot. But those situations felt more traumatic
than transformational. They’re more dramatic but I’m not sure
that making a different choice would have been any more lethal.
For example, if I’d stayed in my job at instead of leaving,
maybe I would have lost my soul. The more dramatic stuff is more
visible, but the slow death can be more insidious. Maybe the
more dramatic stuff forces us to notice.
How are you different? For example, how do you
react differently in your marriage now?
For me
the problem earlier was not hanging onto my view of reality,
allowing myself to be talked out of it. Often my husband’s
reaction was “It’s your problem, it’s not that bad.” We
went into therapy at the time, but he dropped out
– though toward
the end of that time he began to work on himself. I think what
changed in me was my not blaming myself as much. And now I think
we’re really good at pulling back and each working on our own
pieces. I’ve gotten better at saying, “This is my reality and it
may not be right, but I’m going to hang in there with it.”
During the transition phase I was hardening myself to hold my
position. Now I can do it more gently. I went from “It’s all my
problem,” to “It’s not at all my problem” and digging in, to now
becoming an observer of all that. There’s a process of change
for all of us from (1) you're in it but you don’t know you’re in
it, to (2) you know
you’re in it but you don’t know what to do about it, to
(3) you know you’re in it and you know what to do
about it. I think also of Portia Nelson's "Autobiography in Five
Short Chapters:”
-
I
walk down the street. There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in. I am lost...I am hopeless. It isn¹t my fault. It
takes forever to find a way out.
-
I
walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the
sidewalk. I pretend I don¹t see it. I fall in again. I can¹t
believe I am in the same place. But, it isn¹t my fault. It
still takes a long time to get out.
-
I
walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the
sidewalk. I see it is there. I still fall in...it¹s a habit.
My eyes are open. I know where I am. It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
-
I
walk down the same street. There is a deep hole in the
sidewalk. I walk around it.
-
I
walk down another street.
How have you gotten in your own
way?
One way
was to deflect input. “I try so hard, how can that be
happening?” Because it was all or nothing in my head: “If I
admit I was wrong I would be really flawed.” So that somehow,
trying so hard was “enough.” It took me a long time to even
understand what I was doing there. A more subtle way was always
wanting to do it my own way, that I was somehow above the rules
and regulations. I don’t mean following your heart, I mean
obstinately.
Beyond what you’ve already told me, are there
practices you’d recommend?
I do
structured meditation at least once a day—and it ought to be
twice a day, but I have a hard time with that second meditation.
It’s really being with myself, having a structure in place that
reinforces those things I’m learning. That’s why I go to the
ranch. It’s a course correction, to stay conscious. I have a New
Year’s Reflection Day. And I still journal a lot
– that word means
different things to different people. If something's bothering
me I draw a line down the middle of the page. On one side is
“Self” and on the other side is anything from a body part to an
emotion to an event
– and I talk to it. Or I use mind mapping to
help me understand things. The issue goes in the center with
everything connected to it radiating out from the center. I
allow myself to stay with what’s bothering me. It also helps to
keep energy moving when I’m under a lot of pressure
– yoga, dance,
getting massages. When I was doing a lot of therapy I was
getting a massage at least once a week. The Pilates work I’m
doing now helps. I’ve always read a lot. I think sometimes I
read because I need to understand on an intellectual level, but
if I stop there it doesn’t go anywhere. I have to take it to a
deeper level. I try to read something inspirational every night
before I go to bed because I think what you put in your head the
last thing at night is important.
I know you dealt with breast cancer several years
ago. Was that part of your evolution?
Yes, I
learned to really go inside and trust myself. It was about
listening and trusting. No matter how it came out I felt really
compelled to listen to myself and to work holistically with the
cancer—emotional support in my life, therapy. And it wasn’t
until three years later that an image came up out of that breast
that made me realize there were still unfinished issues with my
Mom
– how I take on some other peoples’ stuff.
Where
would you say you are now on your path?
I’m
happier now than I’ve ever been before. I’m lighter, more
present, so things are getting better. If someone asks, "Why go
through stuff?" I’d say, “Because it gets better.” Even though
there’s a lot happening now in my life, it’s comparatively O.K.
I still get caught, but I get “uncaught” quicker.
Anything you would add to this in
regard to being an Enneagram Four?
Well,
serenity is supposed to be my virtue, isn’t it?
Yes, some say equanimity.
I wrote
an article about how leaving the drama behind has been my
ongoing lesson. When I wrote it I wasn’t even thinking about
being a Four:
Recently a friend and teacher of mine suggested I
was too caught up in the drama of a family situation. My
involuntary reaction was to guffaw. I mean, how could she be so
sure? Besides, I was clear I had worked hard to stay out of the
drama and thought I was doing quite well. However, her comment
kept running through my mind. What dram could she be referring
to?
Now I have known for some time it's been a
challenge for me to be happy when others around me are not.
Also, I've seen how feeling responsible for others drives me to
try and make things "better" even if it means fixing their
lives. But through the years I've made considerable progress in
both these areas. I no longer think I can control another
person, solve their problems or make them happy. I have come to
humbly acknowledge I don't even know what's best for them. So I
was surprised by the suggestion that I was hooked into the drama
of the situation.
But I knew better than to ignore my friend's observation. I
started listening to myself with a new consciousness. I was
amazed at how often I would respond to "How are you?" with a
litany of what was going on in the lives of those around me. Was
I really using the "dramas" of others to define my own life? It
seemed ridiculous. Yet, I began to see that focusing on others
used up time and energy I needed to focus on my own life. It was
a diversion that let me off the hook. Who would blame me for not
doing more when my plate was full? Clearly, this pattern was not
serving me well.
Then I started listening to how I talked about my
own life. That too had a dramatic flair to it. Where did I learn
that everything had to be "bigger than life, full of problems to
overcome, mountains to climb"? (Drama by the way seems to need a
bit of gloom and doom and danger to give it juice.)
This new awareness comes in the middle of a
journey I started six months ago. As an experiment, I committed
to listening for inner direction as opposed to reactively doing
things to fill up time or to get work. Well, I have been
listening but the messages haven't been what I expected. The
messages have been to "let go of things (simplify possessions),
do less (simplify life), go inside, stop relying on outside
information and expertise." So I've been throwing things out,
canceling subscriptions, pulling back from professional
meetings, and generally spending more time with myself.
As I think about it, there is a clear connection
between "being hooked on drama" and the journey I'm on. Drama
was and is another diversion. Drama is a way for me to feel
important, to fill time with "meaningful" activity. I was
reminded of the research on executives who unconsciously create
crises at work so they can feel alive. Hmmm!
I could sense a panic deep inside as I considered
giving up the melodrama. All this pulling back was creating a
huge void. Without drama I'd feel naked and vulnerable. No
excuses, nothing to make me special. It was scary.
There are a number of lessons for me here. One is
to trust that what and where I am right now, without any
exaggeration or "drama," is enough.
Another is life without drama isn't mediocre or
bland, it's living from the center. It wasn't the events or
people in my life, it was the emotional energy I gave to them
that was the problem. I would lose my sense of self, and stop
listening to my inner guidance. Drama pulled me away from my
heart.
"We
can either say 'God is no where' or we can say, 'God is now
here.' …God is in the heart… Not in the future or the past… God
is in the pause, the sacred, silent place in our hearts… The
center is always calm. When we are calm, everything changes."
(John Roberts, The Fruit of your Thoughts: Insights of Peter
Rosen.)
Today is a good day to let go of the baggage
getting in the way of my being in my heart. For this, I will
gladly leave the drama behind.
