English – Compassionate Inquiry

Luke Sniewski’s accent is Californian, his last name is Polish, and he lives in New Zealand. As a Wellbeing Coach, Somatic Therapist, Compassionate Inquiry^® Facilitator, Mentor & Practitioner, Luke helps people connect to themselves and their bodies to experience greater vitality, authenticity, and inner peace in their lives, rather than being stuck in their heads.

This post references a short excerpt of Luke’s story of transformation and healing through Compassionate Inquiry^Ⓡ. Listen to his full interview on The Gifts of Trauma Podcast.

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When my son was born and yet another relationship fell victim to my unconscious reactivity, I knew it was the last time I would let this happen. When he was born, nothing mattered to me except being in his life, but my broken relationship with his mother separated us. So I got curious about what was driving my reactivity and in time, experienced an awakening. It was like turning on a light in a dark room. The process of cleaning that room was the work of my healing.

Many of us want to be less reactive and more mindful, accepting and responsive in the moment. Intellectual acceptance and understanding is great. But without experiential practice, whenever we get triggered or stressed, we fall right back into those same old reactions. As a new dad, witnessing my son’s first breaths as he lay on my chest, something awoke in me that said, Nothing else matters. This is going to be my driving force for maturing, for being a different, better person.

How does this relate to quitting my porn addiction?

When I was introduced to porn at 5 years old, it gave me a physiological and mental experience I didn’t have access to in my everyday life. So whenever my life was shit, I escaped through porn.

Men who, like me, are traditionally conditioned to bottle things up and avoid speaking about their emotions can consume porn anonymously and privately to distract them from their internal pain and discomfort.

What really sparked my exploration into the impact of porn was the pattern that kept showing up in my relationships. I would be abstinent for months, especially at the start of a relationship. But when the pheromones and endorphins faded and I had to communicate my authentic needs, I couldn’t connect on a human level. I didn’t know how. I didn’t even know what an emotion was until I turned 30 and my first therapist clued me in. This curiosity, plus the realization that I didn’t know how to relate to women, other than as sexual objects, fueled my exploration.

When I realized the impact and implications of porn on my ability to connect with other humans, mostly women, but also men, I wasn’t okay having it in my life. I’d be out with my mates and when a woman appeared, my attention went to her, and not by choice, but through an automatic drive or compulsion. I’d feel impulses move me towards her and all of a sudden I’m turning on charisma and charm, hoping to achieve what porn gave me through a screen; a short lived, completely one-sided experience of validation that wasn’t at all representative of a healthy sexual relationship.

Since my early twenties, I knew porn wasn’t right for my body or mind. An unknown part of me constantly sought to move me away from it. And whenever I was successful in quitting porn, even for a short time, abstinence felt great.

After my son’s birth, I went completely celibate, knowing that if I wasn’t seeking porn from a screen, I couldn’t seek it from casual encounters. I decided to be celibate for as long as it took to a person, or experience, that was different from what I was used to. Whenever I experienced an impulse to consume porn, I would check in and ask myself; Where is this craving originating in my body? I would attempt to find the very core, focus my attention and stay there, while asking myself a series of questions.

I saw what was happening as two sides of the coin of my experience. On one side were my thoughts about what was happening, and on the other side, my felt sense of an emotion or physical sensation in my body, like pain or discomfort, vibrating or pulsing. When I was stuck in an automatic loop of using porn to avoid, numb or soothe an internal experience, I was only looking on one side of that coin. So when a thought came in and said, Hey, porn is nice, I’d automatically move towards porn. Or, She’s attractive, and all of a sudden, I’d move towards her.

When I flipped this coin, paused, and noticed something was happening in my body, I’d go to the very center of it, rather than running away, or distracting myself from it. Through this practice I found the core of the experiences that I’d spent most of my life avoiding. The sensations and emotions were intense. Holy shit, this is uncomfortable! But while I stayed with an experience, I’d ask; What am I angry about? What am I sad about? What am I stressed about? What issue am I not confronting? I’d pause after each question, and when I was able to stay with it, I got an answer—and—a palpable discharge, a twitch, a quiver, or shivers through my body. Sometimes tears came when I touched what I was sad about. This is how I came to realize that porn was my band-aid for the experiences I had been avoiding. Porn was protecting me, just like any substance, behavior, addiction or consumption protects any of us from an experience.

As I was able to touch and reconcile my experiences, something amazing happened. My need for porn simply evaporated. This is the difference between using will power, which rarely works, and surrendering to the process of getting curious, showing compassion and non-judgment as we turn inward. When we recognize the substance or behavior as the protection it is, all of a sudden, its protective role dissipates and it disappears. So for me, it was never about quitting porn. It was simply getting curious about what was driving it.
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The Gifts of Trauma is a weekly podcast that features personal stories of trauma, healing, transformation, and the gifts revealed on the path to authenticity. Listen to the interview,
and if you like it, please subscribe and share.

I’ve been asked to write about Will, Compassion, and Forgiveness. I never initiate the topic of forgiveness with my clients; they rarely broach it with me. I am also not an expert on forgiveness, but there are places where I experience it. Will and compassion have their part and I weave it here into the tapestry of forgiveness.

Often, we hear about forgiveness as something we do. For me, forgiveness is a process inside me. Gabor teaches that forgiveness is a state of grace and connection to ourselves. When I connect to this place of beauty, it is, well…beautiful. Inside this state of grace and connection, we are ignited by a sense of aliveness so exquisite that beauty, will, compassion, and forgiveness become the lens through which we see ourselves, the world, and the people around us. We become free from making ourselves and others wrong. When I do my internal work and connect to this place my mind and body feel calm, spacious, and flexible, there is room for all of me. And there is room for others however they show up.

For me, forgiveness is a process that emerges inside of an experience of growth, healing, and recovery of Self. From this place I have no part in making forgiveness happen, it just does. I do, however, have a part in taking care of myself to support reconnection to forgiveness, this state of grace and connection to Self. Again, that is ongoing work. I share an example to illustrate just how hard that is.

A few years ago, someone that I care about, and I, disagreed about something, and things quickly spiraled. I felt hurt and a story from my past emerged that I automatically began telling myself. The story I told myself was, unless I show up a certain way, I am unacceptable (I describe how this story originated in childhood and my healing process with Compassionate Inquiry and plant medicine in an interview I did a few weeks ago on the CI Gifts of Trauma Podcast).

During this trigger a few years ago, I had known about trauma and healing trauma. What I knew personally also informed my work as a successful psychotherapist in private practice, Compassionate Inquiry Founding Facilitator, Mentor, and leader in other CI programs. Yet, this trigger rendered me unconscious and I reacted from an old belief and as Eckhart Tolle would say, “old pain.” Something in me had gotten deeply penetrated, a core belief that I have no value. I was hurt and dropped into a world of pain, the wound of abandonment. I didn’t know how deep it was until I landed there and stayed for many months. Despite thousands of dollars in therapy, I was depressed, anxious, tense, sad at home, and functional just enough in my work. Inside of the trigger response, all I could do was blame and feel pain. On top of that, I hated who I was, someone driven by rage to be seen, heard, and understood. It was a complex web of pain, anger, fear, and the inner critic creating such suffering in me, and it impacted others around me.

Had I been conscious of the story that I was telling myself and been fully aware that it was my past showing up in the present, I might have recognized that there were two ways that I could have responded. To illustrate those options, I share a Buddhist story below and then will come back to my story. I call it Two Arrows and it reads like a fairytale.

A king walks through the forest with an entourage and an arrow shoots out of the forest into the king’s heart. The king falls back and immediately feels hurt, fear, and anger. “Oh!! I’ve been shot! I’m going to die. I’m so angry and afraid!”

This first arrow is the pain that life will inevitably bring.

There are two ways that the king could react. One is with the ego. He could shout, “Who dares to shoot me with an arrow?!! Servant, go shave off some of the wood from the arrow and search out all the trees in the kingdom to see if we can match someone’s tree to the wood on this arrow. Other Servant, pluck this feather and go find all the birds in the kingdom and see if we can find whose bird this feather matches!”

The second way the king could react is to accept that he’s been shot with the arrow. He does not accept. Instead, he brings his ego and all the mind and its analyses to this problem. What does the king neglect by adding all of the mind and its concerns to his situation? He neglects to take care of himself and the impact of the first arrow. The king spends so much time worrying and investigating his case that a second arrow comes out of the forest, then a third and a fourth, and it kills him.

In my story who casts the second arrow? I do. How do I do that? By believing who I think I am in the moment, the vulnerable child who experiences a disconnect and interprets from that, that she is unworthy and therefore being abandoned. In my 49-year-old body, I was in agony. For a few months, I became suicidal for which I was able to find and receive help. The words of D.W. Winnicott help me understand how I spiraled so deep. He said, “…In the early stages of emotional development, before the senses have been organized, before there is something called an autonomous ego, very severe anxieties are experienced. In fact, the word anxieties has no use. The order of infant distress at this stage is the same order as that which lies behind panic. And panic is already a defense against the agony that makes people commit suicide rather than remember…Growth has had to be distorted and delayed, and some degree of primitive agony has to be carried into life and living.”

As an adult in this sad situation, I experienced the past and its stories showing up in the present moment. My husband was my rock. I honestly don’t know if I would still be here if not for him. Try as he did, he could not help me let go and I could not be in the state of grace and forgiveness that I had known from previous healing and experience. I was in primitive agony, carrying it into life and living. And then it became my great teacher.

My dear friend, Angie, had taken the CI course during its first year with another facilitator (not me), and one day over lunch about a year after the ordeal began, I confided in her. I told her about all the suffering I was experiencing and she asked me if I believed I was being blamed for anything and, if so, for what? I told her about the trigger with this person I cared for and what I made it mean about me, my perception that this person believes I am unworthy and don’t matter. Then she asked me with genuine curiosity and compassion for the truth, “When did you accept that you are unworthy and don’t matter?” I was speechless. (For folks familiar with Gabor’s work; enter the green bush!).

I saw then that my reaction to the trigger was so automatic that there was no space between what happened and my interpretation of what happened. Before I knew it, my perception of what someone else thought of me was interpreted through the lens of a story that originated in childhood. When Angie asked that question, I had total recognition, and it transformed my relationship to my pain and to what happened. I was now in a state of grace forgiving the part of me that believed the story that I am unworthy, and for unwittingly projecting it onto this person as their belief of me. Back then the child in me had no choice but to believe it, but I am no longer that child. Reconnected to Self and my healing capacity within, I returned to the “first arrow” and using Gabor’s mantra, “wherever there is tension, it requires attention,” I took care of myself.

Gabor teaches that inner tension is in the way of connecting to the state of grace and as I see it, forgiveness as a process inside of me. When we put our conscious attention on the tension for long enough, and sometimes we need help to do it, we make buying into the stories we tell ourselves a choice. We then bring Will, Compassion, and Forgiveness to life and living.

Rhonda Nelson is a registered professional counselor, clinical supervisor and plant medicine integration specialist. She’s also a Compassionate Inquiry^® founding facilitator, which means she was part of the core group who took the therapeutic approach originally named, “Gabor-style” and shaped it into what is known today as Compassionate Inquiry^Ⓡ.

This post references a short excerpt of Rhonda’s story of transformation and healing through Compassionate Inquiry^Ⓡ. Listen to her full interview on The Gifts of Trauma Podcast.

Photo Credit: Stockcake

Introduction:
Rhonda’s transformative journey is a powerful testament to both the power of self-discovery and the healing potential that lies within each of us. It’s a compelling reminder that by confronting our fears, embracing self-compassion and seeking support, we can unlock our true nature and live authentically.

Guided by the teachings of Dr. Gabor Maté, Rhonda embarked on a profound exploration of her inner self, uncovering the root causes of her emotional pain and the coping mechanisms she had developed to deal with it. Through this courageous process, Rhonda realized that true transformation begins with self-recognition. This awareness enabled her to explore her diagnosis of CMS, an incurable neuro- muscular disorder, and confront the intense fear that had been running her life. With curiosity and non-judgment she unveiled the origins of her emotional barriers, deep-seated beliefs, stories and memories. This exploration ultimately facilitated her emotional healing and transformed her life.

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“I had this ability to drop the cane when I was around my family… [to] make this disability invisible.” – Rhonda Nelson

Rhonda’s journey with Compassionate Inquiry began in 2014 when she discovered the work of Dr. Gabor Maté and attended his one-day workshop on Addiction. Her intention for attending was to enhance her work as an addictions counselor, and while it profoundly informed her professionally,
she learned that its benefits were much more personal.

At one point, Gabor shared a personal story to illustrate implicit memory (how the body speaks for us). He spoke of a time when, on the day of foot surgery, due to a running injury, he went to visit his mom who was an in-patient at the same hospital. He limped down the hallway to her room and upon entering the room his limp disappeared. When their visit concluded, he walked to the door again with no limp, and upon exiting the room his limp returned.

In the audience, Rhonda was transfixed. Gabor’s story validated and normalized her body’s ability to ‘hide’ her own disability from her family, something she’d never seen or heard of anyone being compelled to do by unconscious drivers within. Her curiosity was piqued.

She explains:

“For much of my life, I’ve walked with a cane. And yet I had this ability to drop the cane when I was around my family. Just like in Gabor’s story, on my way to meeting them I use the cane, and when I am with my family, I don’t use it. Then when I leave and arrive home I can barely get out of the car without hoisting myself up, and barely walk without use of the cane. So I always wondered, how do I do that? For years, because of that, I questioned the validity of my diagnosis.”

Rhonda’s participation in the workshop also helped her uncover the 40-year-old belief behind this ability: “Unless I show up a certain way, I am not acceptable.”

She shared candidly:

“I was afraid my pain would cause others pain. I made myself wrong for having pain; I was apologetic about it. There was also a lot of anger and a sense that I’m making something up. So I told myself I’m not allowed to have pain, I’m not allowed to acknowledge it. I just have to be there for my family.

It took a lot of work and effort to suppress that pain. As I speak I can feel what it was like to live that way, [suppressing that pain yet] not being able to please those people that I cared about, but who couldn’t truly see me. Back then, me taking care of them was more important than me taking care of me.”

For Rhonda, this new self-awareness gained at the workshop became the standout moment of the day.

Next, Gabor played an Elvis Presley song: Any Way You Want Me. That’s How I Will Be. While listening to the lyrics and taking them in, Rhonda saw how her memories, stories and beliefs were interwoven. She cried in a way that she never had before, or since, as that song described how she had been living her life.

Excited and curious to learn what her disability was saying ‘no’ to, Rhonda bought Gabor’s book, When The Body Says No, and started reading. Soon, she started asking herself the questions that Gabor asked his patients. She found this practice of ‘inquiring’ very validating. Whether she knew the answers or not, the practice of compassion and inquiry pointed her to an inner truth and wisdom that was hers to discover.

Rhonda didn’t have an intention to cure her disorder, after all, it is incurable. She didn’t expect her condition to change, yet it did. By turning the inquiries that she had learned in Gabor’s workshop and book into a personal practice, over time she was able to reduce her medication by two thirds.

Thanks to the transformation Rhonda experienced in Gabor’s workshop, and while utilizing When The Body Says No, she became curious about plant medicines.

Exactly one year after attending the workshop, Rhonda arrived at an Ayahuasca retreat that Gabor was leading, riding on a mule and depending on her cane to walk. She was not seeking physical healing, but wanted to deepen her emotional healing. Her work with Ayahuasca then revealed that her condition was a response to the intense fear that was running her life. Supported by the medicine, Rhonda experienced herself as a child, while at the same time saw herself through the eyes of an adult. She recognized this fear as a response to the emotional unavailability of her mother and what she had made that mean about herself.

In this experience she uncovered the root of her pain and connected to love, joy, beauty, and gratitude. Her passion for the healing potential of plant medicines was ignited and she now facilitates psychedelic-assisted therapy sessions. For nine years she has, and continues to, provide support as a Plant Medicine Integration Specialist utilizing Compassionate Inquiry, Internal Family Systems, and other somatic-based therapeutic approaches to support clients’ plant medicine explorations, from intention setting, to processing, integration, and healing.

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Emergence of the Authentic Self Through Compassionate Inquiry

Transformations in nature can be mesmerizing, especially the metamorphosis of a caterpillar into a resplendent butterfly, embracing its newfound wings with grace. This tale is a metaphor for my own evolution, from the shadow of childhood hardships to the dawn of self-empowerment and the embrace of unconditional love.

A Seedling in Turmoil: The Early Struggles of Adoption and Abuse

My name is Shakti, and my journey began in the uncertainty of an orphanage in Eastern Europe. Only three months old when I was separated from my biological mother, I endured a three-year sojourn in an institution before being adopted by a prominent family, whose patriarch battled with alcoholism. The resulting environment was fertile ground for challenges that would deeply impact my search for inner peace and the quest to discover my authentic self.

Quest for Happiness: Academic Pursuits and the Missing Link

Armed with a degree in clinical psychology, I endeavored to help others, yet I struggled with my own unexplained disconnections. Although intellectually adept, I felt an inexplicable void. This changed when my clinical supervisor introduced me to the work of Gabor Maté. A deep resonance with his words sparked a revelation: Compassionate Inquiry could unveil the concealed pieces of my fractured narrative.

The Awakening: Embracing Compassionate Inquiry

Embarking on specialized training, I confronted the buried traumas that my body never forgot but my mind had sealed away for survival. Compassionate Inquiry catalyzed a connection to my heart, enhancing presence and granting passage beyond the darkness of trauma.

Cultivating Connection: Support and Growth

Immense support from the Compassionate Inquiry community, coupled with the affection of my mentor, Sat Dharam, propelled me to promote this potent healing approach. The growth was not just personal; it radiated outward, impacting lives around me, permeating through my professional practice and into the heart of Polish culture.

Healing Heart: Unleashing the Authentic Self

The voyage through the remnants of my childhood affliction fostered a sacred bond with my authentic essence—my soul—and tapped into the boundless reservoir of unconditional love. It manifested resilience and illuminated the potential for metamorphosis, validating that transformation isn’t reserved for the winged creatures alone, but also for every scarred yet valiant spirit.

The Resilient Spirit: Nurturing the Seeds of Transformation

We all harbor the seeds of healing within our core, awaiting nurture through love, trust, wisdom, and steadfast patience. In cultivating these seeds, we grow into embodiments of resilience and enlightenment.

Choosing Love: The Conscious Path Forward

Today, my existence is a testament to the profound wisdom of the heart—living and loving with intentionality, guided by the conscious choice to not just be shaped by past occurrences, but to emerge into what I am destined to become. As Carl Jung profoundly stated, “I am not what happened to me, I am what I choose to become.”

A Call to Discovery: Embrace Your Authentic Journey

I invite you to also embrace your authentic journey. , cultivating love and self-empowerment, through compassionate inquiry, and blossoming into who you truly are. A metamorphosis is possible.

By Carmen Lia

When admiring paintings and sculptures, we might start by recognizing the artist, the place where he lived and worked, the historical time, the subject of the artwork, the image or the story represented and the style the artist utilizes. We might go on to analyze the composition, the figures and forms, the rendering of space and perspective, symbols, colors and chiaroscuro, the texture, be it fine or rough. We could also do some comparison with other artworks by the same or different artists, etc., as this is an academic way to understand and appreciate a work of Art.

Of course it’s true that, by observing a beautiful painting or a sculpture, we can simply enjoy it, even if we don’t know anything about it. In either case,an inner experience occurs, though we may remain partly unaware of what that artwork is telling us. Sensations, thoughts and emotions are triggered, which in CI we have learned to acknowledge and welcome with a gentle embrace, not just with our mind, but with our Heart as well. It is from here that compassion is born and can be allowed to grow.

How did this CI Focus Group come about?

Art has been both my profession and my life passion. I worked as a teacher of Art History in High Schools until I retired in 2010. After retiring, I started sharing the beauty and knowledge of art with elderly groups, at first live, and then online. When the CI Training ended last September, I confess that I felt some loss, but then art appeared to me as a possible basis for deepening the understanding of ourselves. By hinting at some CI questions, in a very simple inquiry, using some artistic themes and images capable of stirring sensations, emotions, and thoughts within us, we make space for whatever might come up, as a gift of self-understanding, self-Compassion and freedom. The first artistic theme I chose was “Hope / Hope as Despair”, then followed by the theme of “Waiting”, which could either be the title or the meaning of the artworks. Each theme included important masterpieces from all places, styles, and artists, in historical order. The third one was “Mother and Child in Art through the centuries”, which is not only beautiful but also emotionally charged for most of us. This theme is so vast and rich that, for my Italian groups, I had to divide it into two different weekly meetings, which I am now repeating for others to join.

What I can say is that the CI Focus Group, REVISITING ARTWORKS THROUGH THE LENS OF CI has given me the chance to experiment with different ways of deepening my appreciation of art, which then becomes not only something external to observe and appreciate, but also a reflective mirror of what’s calling for our loving attention and gentle acceptance. The participants’ responses have been warm and that is rewarding enough for me, since I am aware that these art presentations are simple opportunities for human connections, where each individual feels worthy of being seen and listened to. Most importantly, I feel it is where we learn to syntonise ourselves, listening with loving care to what’s going on within our own being.

Listening, in CI,
is not just related to our ears.
In fact, in CI we listen through our Hearts,
open, respectful, compassionate,
as in a spiritual embrace.
Listening in CI,
is not just an action of our mind,
(too prone to judge or give advice,
tempted to boost one’s ego and fill the space).
Not that. In CI, it’s the Heart that leads
and holds a safe and sacred space,
where Healing miracles can take place
in Human Lives, Others’ as well as Ours.

– Carmen Lia

By Charon Normand-Widmer

What are ‘Epigenetics’? Why should they interest us?

Epigenetics offer profound insights into how our environment and lifestyle can influence gene expression, without altering the underlying DNA sequence. Alteration of the underlying sequence results in a mutation, which can have various impacts on an organism’s physical and mental well being.

I first became interested in epigenetics while teaching anatomy, physiology and pathology to massage therapy students. As I deepened my understanding of the origins of varying pathologies, I came to understand how genetics, environment and nutrition come together to influence gene expression. Later, my education in the field of trauma added to my growing knowledge base around the importance of factoring in the effects of stress and trauma when working with a client towards wellness.

How do Epigenetics work?

Epigenetics bridge the gap between genetics and environmental factors, explaining how behaviours, diet, stress, and even prenatal conditions can impact health outcomes across generations. This field holds promise for revolutionary advancements in medical science, including personalised medicine, where treatments can be tailored based on an individual’s epigenetic profile. Moreover, understanding epigenetics can lead to the development of new therapeutic strategies for combating diseases such as cancer, diabetes, and neurological and psychological disorders, thereby improving overall human health and longevity.

At the core of epigenetics are chemical modifications to DNA and its associated proteins, called histones, which regulate gene activity. These modifications, such as DNA methylation and histone acetylation, can alter the structure of chromatin, the complex of DNA and proteins that makes up chromosomes. This alteration can either loosen or tighten the chromatin structure, making genes more or less accessible for transcription, the process by which genetic information is copied into DNA.

One of the key mechanisms in epigenetics is DNA methylation, where methyl groups are added to specific locations on the DNA molecule, typically cytosine bases. This modification often leads to gene silencing, preventing the associated gene from being expressed. In contrast, histone modifications, such as acetylation or methylation, can either activate or repress gene expression depending on the specific modification and its location within the chromatin.

The fascinating aspect of epigenetics is its role in mediating the interaction between genetics and the environment. Environmental factors such as diet, stress, toxins, and even social interactions can induce epigenetic changes that can be passed down through generations. This phenomenon, known as transgenerational epigenetic inheritance, challenges the traditional view of genetics, where only DNA sequence variations were thought to be heritable.

For example, studies have shown that food insecurity experienced by pregnant women can lead to changes in DNA methylation patterns in their offspring, affecting their susceptibility to certain diseases and mental illnesses. Similarly, exposure to environmental toxins like cigarette smoke or pollutants can induce epigenetic modifications that increase the risk of diseases like cancer, cardiovascular issues, and personality disorders, for example.

Furthermore, epigenetic changes are not limited to humans but are also observed across various species, from plants to animals. In agriculture, understanding epigenetic mechanisms can have significant implications for crop improvement and breeding programs. Epigenetic modifications can influence traits such as flowering time, stress tolerance, and yield, providing a potential avenue for crop enhancement in response to changing environmental conditions.

Epigenetics and the impact of stress

Paternal stress pre-conception, as well as maternal stress during pregnancy, can influence a person’s experience of life in several ways. Firstly, individuals who were exposed to high levels of maternal stress in utero may be more susceptible to emotional regulation difficulties, anxiety, or depression later in life. This could manifest as heightened emotional responses, difficulty managing stress, or challenges in building trust with others. Before I completed my training in trauma therapy, I used to read a lack of eye contact in another as lack of manners or rudeness. I now consider that this person may be in some way disconnected from themselves (which happens when trauma occurs) and this may be interfering with their ability to connect with me.

Additionally, individuals with a history of prenatal stress, as well as life stress, may have altered brain structures related to memory and stress response, which could impact their ability to process and integrate therapeutic interventions, particularly somatic approaches. They may require tailored approaches in therapy that address these specific neurological differences. When the body has never been a “safe place”, it can be frightening and overwhelming to even consider connecting to one’s inner landscape.

Moreover, exploring the impact of paternal stress, and maternal stress during pregnancy on a person’s early life experiences and development could be a valuable aspect of therapy. Understanding the potential roots of certain emotional or cognitive patterns can help clients make sense of their experiences and work towards connecting with their essential Self.

The impact of predecessor stress and even intergenerational trauma sometimes shows up in the treatment room when a client cannot access the first time they experienced a feeling or sensation. In my practice, gently remind them that this sensation may be preverbal, possibly intrauterine, and may even be in their ancestral coding. After all, our bodies, our nervous systems, did not invent the ability to experience complex emotions, or the ability to process the world cognitively. We were born with these abilities, developed through the achievements of our ancestors. Alongside these benefits, we also inherit traces of ancestral trauma, which often can shape how we perceive our environment.

Epigenetics offers profound insights into how our environment and lifestyle can influence gene expression without altering the underlying DNA sequence. This field bridges the gap between genetics and environmental factors, explaining how behaviour, diet, stress, prenatal, and ancestral conditions can impact health outcomes across generations. The potential for revolutionary advancements in personalised medicine, as well as new therapeutic strategies for physical, mental and emotional disorders, makes epigenetics a field of immense promise. Understanding the chemical modifications to DNA and histones that regulate gene activity deepens our knowledge of how environmental factors can induce changes that may be passed down through generations, challenging traditional views of heredity. For those interested in health and wellness, the implications of epigenetics are vast, offering a more nuanced understanding of the interplay between our genes and the environment.

By Lizzie Reumont

‘When the Body Says No’ is a CI Focus Group that explores the nature of disease in relation to mental/emotional health; the path to healing, and what the word, ‘healing’ means in the context of Compassionate Inquiry.

When chronic illness is present and the body says ‘No’ loudly enough, there is often a desperation to fix the problem. That initial panic can lead people to seek medical care, and as a result, many patients receive a diagnosis and a course of action, including prescriptions and long-term medication. Of course, there are times when the pursuit of answers to an ailing body amounts to no diagnosis; the person is left hanging in a liminal state of living unwell, which can mean there is little respite from either the panic or the pain of their current condition.

Navigating any form of illness and/or pain, with or without a label, brings up varied and often complex emotions and belief patterns. This is why, after almost two years facilitating a group called CI and Autoimmune Disease, Chronic Pain, and Cancer, the group decided to change the name to a more inclusive title. This title now includes anyone with a body saying no, as well as CI participants and practitioners who may be friends, family members or therapists working to support the chronically ill.

Some of us in the group have been referred to as ‘disabled,’ ‘handicapped,’ and/or ‘invisibly ill,’ and while some of us would not personally identify with these labels, most of us do identify with a belief system that includes phrases like “I’m different.” “I don’t fit in.” “I am not deserving.” “I’m a burden.”“I’m broken.” “I’m worthless.”

Reinforcement of any one of these beliefs is subconsciously sought in any given situation, including in the context of a CI session, which often starts with a grounding. The purpose of a grounding is to invite a client into the container of their body to observe what is present. While this generally happens in a small window of time, it is a small but safety-defining moment that may hold a particular weight for this group of people. It’s important to recognise that they might feel discomfort, pain, or a sense that their bodies have been annihilated through illness, medication or surgery, and it is no surprise that many such people have disassociated from the somatic space altogether.

Language around the grounding can be hit-or-miss for a group who may be wholly uncomfortable in their bodies. They might be unable to connect into the obvious physical place in the way that able-bodied people may take for granted. Take, for example, the client with MS, who may not have sensations in their feet; asking them to feel their feet on the floor will surely resonate differently for them than an ‘able-bodied’ person. Likewise, asking a woman who has had a mastectomy to feel herself breathing into her chest may evoke pain, sadness, anger or even shame. Someone with a digestive illness may not be able to let their belly relax in the midst of a flair. There are endless examples of how a seemingly benign invitation into the body may be a trigger for a subset of people. Of course, one size never fits all when it comes to therapy, and the point is not to tap-dance around unknown triggers. Rather, the point is just to maintain an awareness of the reality that somatic-based therapy is a wholly different experience for one living with chronic pain or illness, than for someone who isn’t.

Here are a few guidelines we discussed in the context of our focus group, aimed at helping to ensure that a Compassionate Inquiry grounding is an inclusive experience creating safety and inviting the client to move into their physicality at their own pace.

Be non-directive: avoid bringing the client’s awareness somewhere specific in their body. You might say, “Notice what connects you with whatever your body is touching,” instead of, “Feel your feet on the floor,” – they may not have access to the area in question, the area may be imbued with meaning or emotion.
Be clear about the intention for the grounding: “This is a one-minute grounding exercise intended to bring you into the present-moment experience of yourself; this is not about fixing or changing, but rather, being with what is.”
Saying less is more: “Is it ok for you to take a few seconds to observe your body breathing? Can you ride the breath into your body? Please take all the time you need. I’ll know you are ready to continue when you open your eyes.”
Give them permission to move: “If at any time you need to move, shift or change positions, please listen to your body’s needs and adapt in your own way.”

If you have questions, comments or suggestions relating to working with chronic illness, you are welcome to get in touch with Lizzie at lizzie@freeliz.com.

By Dr. Maria Egervari – Manjeet Adi

Yesterday, I overheard a conversation between two young, fit people at the gym. One shared that her friend was going out with an overweight man. With palpable disgust in her voice, she stated that she would rather sit at home alone than ever touch a person like that. The repulsion in her facial expression was plain to see, and it made me reflect on the complex issues around using food for soothing pain, and the judgments and shame around these issues.

Using food to provide comfort is very common in the modern world. Commercials for carefully engineered food products, or rather, food-like substances, aim to deliver pleasure as an escape from our feelings. Designed primarily to satisfy the need for sensory pleasure, and to create and perpetuate cravings, the nutritional aspect is at best a secondary component.

The kind of attitudes I witnessed at the gym are widespread. So too are the opportunities to access food that leads to weight gain. These two stand in stark contrast to one another and present increasing challenges for those already struggling.

When food becomes the object of addiction it adds another layer to this already complicated landscape – the neurobiology of addiction. We cannot give up eating in the same way that we can give up alcohol or heroin. There are no road signs when one enters this particular territory of addictive behaviour; stemming from the unavoidable, life-sustaining need to nourish ourselves.

The amount of shame that accompanies being overweight or obese can be overwhelming. The self-judgment is harsh, and the self-punishment is severe. Shame disconnects those suffering with food addiction, often leading to severe isolation and avoidance around developing meaningful relationships. The result is further pain that then needs to be soothed — naturally — with food.

How do we break this vicious cycle?

We break this by exploring the root of the addictive behaviours and their adaptive function, bringing to the client’s awareness the idea that these are coping mechanisms resulting from unmet needs during childhood, or from having experienced physical, sexual, or psychological abuse. This is one of the CI stepping stones and utilising it can open the doors to self-compassion:

“Bring the client’s awareness to understanding their behaviour as a coping mechanism. Ask them what their behaviour or substance gives them, and if this is a normal human need. Help them to be compassionate towards themselves and move away from making themselves wrong.”

Gabor beautifully explains this in one of his videos:

“What happens is, for the essence to develop in us, the early environment has to mirror our joy, has to mirror our power, has to mirror our beauty, and has to mirror our vitality. When the environment can’t do that, we shut down those parts of ourselves because it’s too lonely; it’s too scary to be alone with them. We shut down all those areas within ourselves, so we lose the connection to our own essence, which is what’s happened to you. It’s happened to a lot of us.”

As Gabor says, “Ask why the pain, not why the addiction”. CI practitioners are invited to explore the early experiences and the beliefs that they lead to. Gabor helps us understand that we view the world through the lens of our beliefs (your mind creates the world), which is what brings about the need for coping mechanisms.

Then we invite compassion for the young child whose needs were not met and who found a way of coping with the pain.

May we all be open, curious, and compassionate each time we encounter someone who uses food to soothe their pain.

By Charon Normand-Widmer

In the vast tapestry of human existence, our lives are intricately woven with the threads of culture. From the languages we speak to the customs we observe, culture shapes our perceptions, beliefs, and behaviors in profound ways. Yet, amidst the rich tapestry of cultural influence, lies a hidden force that often goes unnoticed: our cultural conditioning.

Cultural conditioning refers to the process by which individuals internalize the beliefs, values, and norms of their society or cultural group. From the moment we are born, we are immersed in a sea of messages that subtly mold our identities and shape our worldview. However, becoming aware of our cultural conditioning is a transformative journey that requires introspection, openness, and a willingness to question the status quo.

The first step towards unraveling the layers of cultural conditioning is acknowledging its existence. Like fish swimming in water, we are often unaware of the cultural currents that flow around us, shaping our thoughts and actions. Children under the age of 6 have little to no filtering process; we absorb the thoughts and beliefs of our first socializing structure: our family of origin. However, by taking a step back and observing our own behaviors and beliefs with curiosity and objectivity, we can begin to recognize the influence of culture in our lives.

Self-reflection is a powerful tool for uncovering the deep-seated beliefs and biases that have been ingrained within us since childhood. By examining the messages we have received from family, media, education, and society, we can identify the cultural scripts that have been playing out in our lives. This process requires courage and honesty, as we confront aspects of ourselves that may be uncomfortable or challenging to acknowledge.

Growing up, I never really thought much about cultural conditioning. It was just the air I breathed, the water I swam in. It wasn’t until I ventured out into the wider world that I began to notice its subtle, and not-so-subtle, effects on my thoughts, beliefs, and behaviors. Growing up in a fundamentalist Christian community encouraged me to believe that our community beliefs were correct and that outsiders had it wrong. It wasn’t until I went to college and began my study of cultural anthropology that I even became aware that ‘culture’ meant a set of beliefs and practices transmitted from one generation to the next, that cultures are many and varied, and that these can peacefully coexist.

I was given an assignment to examine the effects of my culture upon myself and my belief system. I was so deeply immersed in my belief system that I couldn’t distinguish where my culture ended and I began. Was I defined by my Christianity? Was my identity tied to being Black? Were these identities separate or intertwined? These questions plagued me as I grappled with the assignment.

Though I struggled with the task and didn’t receive a high grade, I’m grateful for the experience; it ignited a journey of self-discovery, prompting me to question how I form my identity and recognize cultural messaging. This assignment marked the beginning of my journey to critically examine my own internalization of cultural norms and beliefs.

It’s crucial to stay mindful of cultural conditioning, especially as we engage with others who are navigating their own cultural influences. Recognizing that we all perceive the world through the lens of our beliefs is essential. When encountering someone who is triggered, such as experiencing anger, it’s important to understand that their reaction is not about us, but stems from their interpretation of the situation, which has been shaped by their cultural conditioning.

Acknowledging that their beliefs about boundaries, and what presents as impediments to them reaching their goals, stems from internalized cultural messages, helps us approach interactions with empathy and understanding. By creating space for their emotions without feeling the need to manage or control them, we can allow both of our nervous systems to process the present moment authentically and fully. This awareness fosters more compassionate and constructive interactions, enriching our relationships despite cultural differences.

One of the most illuminating aspects of becoming aware of our cultural conditioning is recognizing its role in shaping our perceptions of others. Cultural stereotypes and prejudices often color our interactions with people from different backgrounds, leading to misunderstandings and conflicts. By examining our own prejudices and challenging stereotypes, we can cultivate empathy and understanding towards those whose experiences differ from our own.

Cultural conditioning also influences our values and priorities, shaping our aspirations and goals in life. For example, the emphasis placed on individualism in Western societies may lead us to prioritize personal success and achievement, while collectivist cultures may prioritize harmony and cooperation. By examining the cultural roots of our values, we can gain clarity about what truly matters to us and align our actions with our authentic selves. It’s helpful to keep these influences in mind when interacting with others.

Becoming aware of our cultural conditioning is not a one-time event, but an ongoing process of self-discovery and growth. It requires humility, openness, and a willingness to challenge our assumptions and beliefs. By embracing diversity and seeking to understand the perspectives of others, we can transcend the limitations of cultural conditioning and embrace a more inclusive and compassionate worldview.

We could see this as a transformative journey that empowers us to reclaim agency over our lives and identities. By examining the cultural influences that shape our thoughts, beliefs, and behaviors, we can cultivate greater self-awareness, empathy, and authenticity. In doing so, we pave the way for a more interconnected and harmonious world, where diversity is celebrated and every individual is valued for their unique contributions to the tapestry of humanity.

By Kevin Young

As I considered writing this piece for general consumption, I felt my body contract. My stomach tightened, my chest and heart center closed in on themselves, and my mind, or at least the manifestation of fear in my body and mind, said ‘no.’

What Compassionate Inquiry has taught me is the capacity to recognise that. To recognise that something is happening for me right now and to offer myself the space, presence and acceptance to lean into it. When I do that, what I sometimes see, hear and feel is that there is a great fear of rejection present for me — ‘What if this isn’t ‘good enough’?’, ‘What if I don’t ‘do it right’?’, ‘What if they reject me?’

Let me give you a little background. I was the second of three children born before my mother was twenty years old. We lived in a very poor part of Belfast — a city that was engulfed by sectarian war, political mayhem, poverty and hardship. These were difficult times, and my father was a young twenty-year-old man with an already established alcohol dependence. Both my parents, due to the circumstances afforded them, were physically and emotionally unavailable.

By all accounts, my elder sister was ‘a lively one’ — today she is currently inquiring into her own ADHD. My younger sister was ‘a clingy one’ — she was on my mothers hip for the first ten or twelve years of her life, and then there was me. I was the ‘good child’. I never asked for anything, I never needed anything, I never bothered anyone — didn’t cry, didn’t expect, and learned, very early in life, to take care of myself.

I adapted to survive in my environment. My organism was so clever, so advanced that even at one or two years of age it had adapted; there was no point in asking for, wanting, needing or expecting love and emotional attunement, so I didn’t. I shut all those human needs down because it was the only thing I could do. It was the best thing I could do. Maybe you’ve done something similar?

What does a child start to believe about themselves in an environment that isn’t receptive to its needs, wants, desires and presence? It believes that its needs are not important, that it doesn’t matter, that the world doesn’t care. It believes that the best way to get on in the world is to not have needs.

Having studied, and been present to the experience of CI through interactions with colleagues, I have been able to track this adaptation right through my whole life. I really was a perfect child — everyone else’s mother loved to see me at their house— I could hide myself so well that I was a delight to look after. I have been really good at hiding my needs, struggles, desires and wants from most people in my life. I have been ashamed to have any of those things. ‘I’m not allowed to have needs,’ (I thought), and I felt a lot of shame that I did.

Addiction

At the age of about thirteen or fourteen I stumbled upon a great solution to shame: addiction. For the next seventeen years of my life I was a (mostly) high-functioning addict. Recreational drugs predominantly. It just got to the point that most days were good days for recreation.

Of course, because I was able to buy expensive alcohol and drugs and create a good standard of living for myself, I was able to convince myself that this wasn’t addiction — this was relaxation, this was socializing, this was connection, celebration, this was joyous, this was culture and expression. This was fast, exciting and loud living. Until it wasn’t. Gabor quotes Eckhart Tolle often, who says “Addiction starts in pain and ends in pain.”

Oh, and my adaptive ability to be extremely nice, charming, helpful and supportive of others’ needs was still in full flow. It still, to this day, requires me to keep my awareness and compassion on it so that it doesn’t drive my own needs deep into my body.

I’m curious how these words have resonated with you so far? Do you recognise any of my experience in your own story? If so, then CI can help us.

For me, one of the greatest tools that CI has given me is the ability to be present to myself, present to my own bodily experience, present to how shame and fear show up for me. CI has shown me that I can stay conscious with these sensations, in the present moment, without the need to ‘comfort’ myself with a substance or behavior. This isn’t always easy, but that’s okay. I am allowed to feel, to need. I am allowed to be seen, heard and experienced.

CI has shown me that when I can step back and see my whole experience —my mind, my body, my behavior and the environment I grew up in— there is not really much chance that it could have been any different, and this invites compassion. Ah ‘compassion,’ I can feel my body relax as I type that.

CI has shown me that when I bring forward all five levels of compassion, healing is possible, and not just possible, it’s my right. It’s yours too.

These are the 5 levels of compassion

Ordinary compassion – when someone suffers, we feel for them
Compassion of Understanding – be curious to understand what pain or what stories have created or are perpetuating the suffering of another
Compassion of Recognition – there is nothing about the client that isn’t also true about us
Compassion of Truth – suffering is caused by the false beliefs we internalized as children. Once the truth exposes this, the person can let go of the lies and delusion that govern their behaviour.
Compassion of Possibility – we see in the other both the false mask, and who they truly are. There is strength, truth, courage, love and empathy in everyone, and it is possible to connect with these qualities. There is a healing process inside each of us, and an individual life has both meaning and direction.