PD Revelation

[Updated: 9/8/20]

If you believe you are on self-induced pause, you are undoubtedly working with the two “new exercises” from Recovery from Parkinson's. As you know, the first is the dialogue with the “other.” [1] The second is the requests for the felt presence of the “other.“ In a prior post I offered some ideas to help in making the dialogue more constant. I have updated that post a number of times with additional ideas. I may soon devote a new post to the technique I call there the “companionable silence” as I have found it particularly helpful.

Here I want to mention some possible ways of deepening the two exercises, especially the second one, and of combining the two exercises.

For the second exercise, JWH first suggests in Recovery from Parkinson's (2019), “A patient could ask the invisible friend to palpably hold him or her, or manifest as some sort of feeling or sensation either inside or on the periphery of the patient’s body.” A few pages later she offers two possible specific requests: “Let me feel your presence” and “Let me feel your joy and love inside of me.” I have used those two from the time I started with the second exercise. And based on JWH's first suggestion, I have also used, “Let me feel you hold me.” (I have also used slight variations on all of those: “Let me feel you here,” “Please hold me,” “Let me feel your embrace,” etc.)

Bearing in mind that the idea behind these requests is to gradually increase our felt sense of safety, I couldn't help wondering if there were ways to deepen their effects, perhaps additions to the requests that might accentuate the feelings they are intended to stimulate. My experience suggests to me there may be.

For example, I have added to “Let me feel your presence” by asking such things as, “Let me feel your presence... comforting me” and “Let me feel your presence... and protection.”

Alternatively, I have elaborated on requests simply by focusing on a particular feeling after making them. For instance, I might ask, “Let me feel you hold me,” and then simply focus wordlessly on a feeling of trust in the “other.” I believe this may sometimes be preferable to saying something like, “I trust you” because the latter may constitute an affirmation that might have the effect of pushing me prematurely beyond whatever level of trust I do feel, thereby activating the wary parts of my brain. (See this recent post where I grapple with this question.) Simply savoring whatever level of trust I do feel seems a good way to go. Other reasonable alternatives might include, “Help me trust you,” or, because it's a fact, “I want to trust you.”

It is possible as well to combine the two exercises. This is something I've found myself doing more lately. For example, you might ask to feel the presence of the “other,” and then, in that state, engage in the dialogue. Similarly, you can sprinkle in the requests of the second exercise whenever you are dialoguing with the “other.”

A final idea for deepening the second exercise is to ask the “other” to talk to you about any feelings involved. For instance, you might ask the “other” to talk to you about “his” presence. He might respond by telling you something along the lines that he has always been there for you and will always continue to be so. Or you might ask him about whether you can trust him, and he might respond by letting you know you can do so completely. (Don't worry if what you hear in your mind seems like it is coming more from you than the other. In Stuck on Pause JWH says, “If you are just now starting to talk to God, it will probably be a one-way street for quite a while.” In my experience, though, you might sort of hear from the other. It's just that for some time it will probably seem like it is coming more from you. I think this is okay. If it's coming from your heart it is, in some sense, coming from the “other.” Personally, I am content with that during what will probably be a long time before I start hearing the “voice of God” in some classic sense.)

Please contact me to share any ideas you might have for deepening the two exercises!

[1] While writing this post it occurred to me I wasn't sure where I had gotten the term “the other” when I first adopted it in one of the earliest posts on this blog. I believe I may have picked it up from a friend with whom I was discussing the JWH books. On reviewing Stuck on Pause I'm reminded that JWH mentions it was the term used by writer and environmental activist Farley Mowat to describe his connection to nature. For the time being, I have found it a fitting term given JWH's stressing the importance of talking to someone “outside yourself” in order to address pause. At some point, perhaps soon, or maybe after going off pause, I suspect I will replace the term with something more like “the One,” acknowledging the key nondualistic teaching of many of the world's great spiritual traditions.

Update – 9/8/20: In writing the above paragraphs I overlooked one idea that I think belongs in this post. To deepen or enhance the first exercise it seems reasonable, even obvious to me that you would want to talk with the “other” about some of the key ideas JWH associates with coming off pause.

For instance, In Stuck on Pause JWH writes, “When energy is flowing through the striatum and thalamus a person feels safe enough to trust something other than his own, wary mind to be in charge.” Additionally, in relating to the “other,” “You may even have a realization that you have always been under the watchful eye and protection of your invisible friend.” Accordingly, I have recently included in the dialogue observations about how powerful and pervasive I know the protection of the “other” to be. (Since my own version of the “other” is essentially the cosmos, it is easy to recognize that “his” protection is quite vast. With some other version of the “other,” you might need only the additional recognition that he is a representative of a greater power.) I have also talked with the “other” about wanting to accept that he is the one in control. This latter bit of conversation recently felt remarkably buoying, a good feeling that felt like a significant, positive step.

For some other possible topics of conversation you might search Recovery from Parkinson's for the word “epiphany.”

In my experience, these bits of conversation seem to have more impact when they have some novelty. When I've repeated them regularly over a period of time, I think they've sometimes become a bit mechanical. When I leave them aside for a while, then come back to them later, they have sometimes recovered some novelty and seem to have more positive impact.