Stopping

by David Kundtz

  Fourth, most therapy is not for deeply troubled people but for you and me at moments of challenge and opportunity. Most counseling clients just need a little help over the rough spots. So please don't feel embarrassed or ashamed. In the vast majority of cases, therapy is not about a therapist giving advice to an emotionally ill person; it's about any person looking for a safe place and a skilled, wise companion for a particularly challenging part of his or her journey.

  Fifth, shop around. If you feel uncomfortable with the therapist you have, for any reason, seek another that you like. The counselor works for you, not the other way around. But, as Hillman and Ventura's intentionally provocative book title at the opening of the chapter implies, all therapy is not equal. Generally, look for counselors that are open to take their starting point from what you report is going on with you, not those who try to squeeze you into a system they happen to practice.

  And finally, here's a response to the frequent question: “How do I know when it's time to get into therapy?” Echoing Dr. M. Scott Peck's words, “It's time to get into therapy when you feel you can no longer keep moving ahead by yourself as you deal with your fears; when you're really stuck.”

  I recall, with some chagrin, going into therapy for the first time. I was studying to be a therapist and it was obligatory in my program to be in therapy. Otherwise, I most likely would not have done it at that time. It took me three months to find a therapist. I know of a professor of psychotherapy who had never been in therapy until a crisis during his retirement (he was sixty-eight) forced him to seek solutions. Talk about resistance!

  The therapist I found was a gift. Young, bright, earnest, and Jewish. I wondered at first if this would work: Jewish therapist and priest client. Would he understand my issues? He was skillful. When he did not understand one or another aspect of the Catholic world, he would get me to tell him about it. Thus I was always telling him my stories, which is the best kind of therapy.

  I'm afraid if I stop,I'll never be able to start again!

  OVERWORKED NURSE

  42

  “Yes, but . . .”

  Let me anticipate some possible objections to Stopping that might be running through your mind at this point.

  Objection: “Look, I already know what will come up for me when I Stop. It's always the same thing, the same old pain (or anger or upset or fear). Why would I want to think of that? It's over and done and there's nothing to be gained but more pain.”

  Response: The paradox is that the more you move into the same old thing, the less power it will have to cause you pain. The reason it keeps coming up is because it has never been faced or not faced completely. When you keep the door bolted against the big bad wolf, he stays right outside your door, growling, snarling, and constantly reminding you that he's there. Could you be getting used to having him right outside the door? Could it be that in some way you like him there?

  I had a wonderful spiritual director in the seminary who was both wise and funny. When I would confess to him, in the pious language of the day, that “I had entertained impure thoughts,” he answered, “Heh, heh! Let's get it straight here, kiddo, you didn't entertain them, they entertained you!” So maybe you are used to keeping things out of reach just enough so that they, in some way, “entertain you.” Open the door, invite the big bad wolf in, give him a name, get it over with, and move on! (I wonder now what my confessor would have said had I suggested this plan in regard to my “impure” thoughts!)

  There's another idea to keep in mind as a response to this objection: creative denial. Sometimes denial is not bad; it can even be beneficial. Healthy denial differs from unhealthy denial because it isn't really denial, it's temporary avoidance. You see this clearly in some terminally ill people. “This afternoon I don't have cancer. I don't want anybody to mention it at all,” said the twelve-year-old girl to her family on the way from the hospital to an afternoon at the zoo. This is an example of creative denial that was used as a respite from the intensity of a painful reality, and it is healthy. So a healthy-denial-Stopover might not look like a Stopover at all, but it is.

  Objection: “I've tried various things like meditation before and, frankly, I get immensely bored. It isn't that I fear anything, it's just that doing nothing bores me so much that I always move on to something that keeps my interest or that is useful.”

  Response: Start with Stillpoints. They are so short it is impossible to get bored. But at a deeper level, please don't be fooled by boredom. It's often a cover for something else; so begin, like with any feeling, just by noticing it. Stay with it for a while. Then name it; maybe it's a particular kind of boredom: “annoying” or “desperate” or “irksome” or “sleep-inducing.” Focus on the boredom rather than letting it focus on you. Move into it. Personify it. “What do you want with me, Boredom? What are you keeping me from?”

  Notice that I am making an assumption here: You are not really bored. Boring means uninteresting, tiresome, and dull. When you are Stopped, you are alone with yourself, and you are anything but dull. Even though you might see yourself that way, you're not; no one is!

  I believe boredom often masquerades as fear of our excellence. Author Marianne Williamson turns fear on its ear when she wonders if just maybe what we are most deeply afraid of “is that we are powerful beyond measure. It is our light, not our darkness, that most frightens us.” So perhaps your strongest fear is your wonderfulness. What a concept!

  Objection: “As a child of an alcoholic mother, I never knew when it would be safe for me, so I developed an attitude of always watching out for danger. My natural inclination is to pay attention outwardly to other people, not inwardly to myself. Closing my eyes or paying attention to myself are things that make me very fearful. I'm always paying attention to everything around me to keep aware of what might be coming. I'm afraid Stopping would make me nervous.”

  Response: The first response, of course, is to go ahead and keep your eyes open. Closed eyes are not essential to Stopping. If it is helpful, you can substitute a trance-like stare at some point on the floor or wall or at some object; staring at it but not looking at it or seeing it. I would also suggest that you concentrate on brief Stillpoints and include with them a message of self-reassurance, a reminder that at this time and place, you can trust the security you presume. On a deeper level, in regard to your discomfort with self-attention, I'd recommend you begin any longer expressions of Stopping by concentrating on the gifts of openness and purpose and by examining life in its most comfortable modes: outside, listening and receptive. Then, only gradually, move the focus in.

  Objection: “I just can't afford it. Yes, it's a great idea in an ideal world. Who wouldn't love to just do nothing? But the world is not ideal and there simply are more important things to do than what you describe as Stopping. No matter how beneficial, by comparison it's frivolous.”

  Response: Stopping can clearly challenge a person's very strongly entrenched life pattern of keeping busy, keeping going, and not looking back. What I would emphasize here are Stillpoints, literally just minutes out of the day and minutes that would normally not be useful for anything else. But, I suspect, it's not just the “frivolous” nature of Stopping that is objectionable, it's the very act of looking at your inner life and is fear masked as seriousness. If you feel something like this, I would suggest that you begin very gradually, just a few Stillpoints a day for a few months. Let yourself slowly get used to the act of looking in. Pick out whatever is helpful in the noticing, naming, and narrating processes; especially in the noticing.

  Objection: “I'm afraid that if I stop, really Stop, like in Stopovers or Grinding Halts, I'll never be able to start again. I won't be able to get back into the fast lane, which, because of my work as an emergency room nurse, is where I spend my life. I am afraid that I will be permanently Stopped!”

  Response: If you identify with this objection, I would suggest that you treat the statement specifically as a feeling, not as a fact. By that I mean, the objection as
stated reveals a lot of tiredness and thus its expression is, most likely, primarily an expression of a current feeling rather than a real life fact. Probably you have done an equivalent of a Stopover sometime in your busy life and survived just fine.

  By distinguishing between the feeling expressed and the actual fact, you can accept the one as a meaningful expression of what is going on with you at the moment and shine the strong light of reality on the other to test its validity. Start with Stillpoints and remember: You don't have to move on to Stopovers or Grinding Halts unless you want to. For many, Stopping will be primarily expressed in Stillpoints.

  Objection: “If I do something, I do it all the way. It's like I have to do all of it or it just won't work. The same with Stopping. My inclination is to immediately do a Grinding Halt of three months. Do the most. Do the best. The rest is not worth it.”

  Response: This objection, what I call the “All or Nothing,” is from a go-for-the-gusto kind of person who brings a lot of energy and enthusiasm to life. I would suggest that the person view Stopping not in a hierarchical, quantitative way, but in a horizontal, qualitative way. Stopping does not go from less good to best; it goes only from this way to that way with no judgment as to which way is better. So a three-month Grinding Halt is not necessarily better for this person than a few Stillpoints spread throughout the day; in fact, it would probably be less effective. The way you choose to do your Stopping depends on your needs, the time available, and all the other variables of the moment. Again, start with Stillpoints.

  Objection: “I want to do Stillpoints, I begin every day with the intention of doing them, but I forget. I come to the end of the day without having done even one.”

  Response: Here's an idea that may help. Find triggers in your day that will call you to a Stillpoint. For example, every time your phone rings, do a Stillpoint before answering it. Every time you get up from your desk (workstation, etc.), do a Stillpoint. Do this every time you go to the bathroom, get a drink of water, use the copy machine, or open a piece of mail. Can you incorporate a reminder for a Stillpoint into your screen saver? As you get in your car, before you start the ignition, or before getting out of your car, take time for a Stillpoint.

  The answer to this objection has a lot to do with the idea of intentional living we explored in Chapter 6. Since Stillpoints no longer just happen on their own as they used to, we have to intentionally put them in our lives. Finding things that will serve as triggers will help. Above all, try not to give in to discouragement. It will take awhile to incorporate Stopping into your life. Remember the benefits and stick with it.

  I hope that these objections and responses will underline the central place that Stillpoints hold in the process of Stopping. They are the key, the heart and the soul of Stopping. Indeed, many will use only Stillpoints, leaving the Stopovers and Grinding Halts for a later time that might more clearly present itself. But Stillpoints are what will change your life. Gently, by accumulation, these treasured moments will bring you Stopping's gifts. They will also gradually convince you of the desirability and value of Stopovers and Grinding Halts so that you will consider using them in your life as well.

  V

  Discovering Your Way to Stopping

  Normal day, let me be aware ofthe treasure you are.Let me learn from you, love you,bless you before you depart.

  MARY JEAN IRON

  43

  “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening”

  What will Stopping look like in your life? What will help you integrate and personalize the three ways of Stopping or help you customize them by discovering your own preferences of how, when, and where Stopping is most likely to happen for you and be most beneficial? This last part of the book will help you to discover how Stopping will fit into your daily, monthly, and yearly routines.

  This is where the rubber meets the road. Because if you don't actually Stop, it won't be able to work for you. The choice is yours: to continue to be overwhelmed by your frenetic pace and by the problem of too much; becoming too distracted from what is really important to you—convinced, somehow, that you can't take time out even for a thirty-second Stillpoint— or to begin an easy, simple, and new way of living that will bring you peace, calm, and recollection in the midst of your busy life.

  Perhaps saving the best for last, here is a poem that has Stopping in the title: “Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening” by Robert Frost. It's a perfect poem for us at this point in the journey. For many it will be familiar. Reading it aloud will emphasize the rhythm and rhyme.

  Stopping by Woods on a Snowy Evening by Robert Frost

  Whose woods these are I think I know.

  His house is in the village though;

  He will not see me stopping here

  To watch his woods fill up with snow.

  My little horse must think it queer

  To stop without a farmhouse near

  Between the woods and frozen lake

  The darkest evening of the year.

  He gives his harness bells a shake

  To ask if there is some mistake.

  The only other sound's the sweep

  Of easy wind and downy flake.

  The woods are lovely, dark and deep.

  But I have promises to keep,

  And miles to go before I sleep,

  And miles to go before I sleep.

  What a wonderful example of Stopping! He does nothing but stop and watch the woods fill up with snow. That is as close to doing nothing as you get. I have read the poem so often that I have a picture of the narrator in my mind. He is awake and aware of his surroundings, his aloneness in the woods, and the absence of the landowner. And he just sits quietly in the falling snow. He hears the bells, even giving them meaning as his horse's questioning. He feels the woods and names them dark, deep, and lovely.

  Then he remembers: I have promises to keep and miles to go before I sleep. That's an important part of who I am, someone with promises to keep and miles to go. And then, we can assume, he returns to his life, wherever he was going when he stopped to watch, now refreshed by his Stopping. (A Christmas errand is hinted at by the “darkest evening” or winter solstice, December 21.)

  All the elements of our definition are here: Stopping is doing nothing, to become more fully awake, and remember who you are. Sometimes I take the narrator's place and it is me sitting there in my sleigh . . . watching the snow. Thus reading the poem becomes a Stillpoint.

  This poem also reminds us that we are far from the simple life it depicts. For the poet, Stopping was more related to what he was doing in the course of his daily life. His Stopping was at the speed of a sleigh ride; ours is at the speed of light. Either way, Stopping must be chosen.

  So we all need to discover our own unique path—the ways, times, places, triggers, occasions, and opportunities—to what I call our “Stopping Woods,” for just watching whatever is going on: falling snow or setting sun or growing grass or simply what's outside the window. What will lead you to the brief moments of Stillpoints, to the longer times of Stopovers, and to the occasional extended Stopping of a Grinding Halt?

  If you are what you do,when you don't you aren't.

  QUOTED BY WILLIAM J. BYRON, S.J.

  44

  Permission Granted Just to Be

  Based on my Stopping seminars, I've discovered that before traveling the pathway to the Stopping Woods, it is first necessary to give everyone permission to Stop, permission to do nothing, and permission to not feel guilty. Tinged as we are with a rigorous work ethic, a serious attitude about religion, and the general ethos of achievement, it is understandable that we still feel somehow guilty or wrong about doing nothing. In order to incorporate Stopping into our lives, we often need permission. So if you want, and if you will give me the authority, I now grant you permission to do nothing. Here are some voices to back me up:

  “We all need to pause before the contemplation of our lives before we can laugh or cry. We are dying for it, literally dying for it,”
said the poet William Carlos Williams in 1960 shortly before he died. Notice he encourages Stopping—“pause before the contemplation of our lives”—specifically in order to be able to experience the feelings of human life “before we can laugh or cry.” When he says “we are dying for it,” I believe he means it literally as well as poetically: we are ruining our health because we don't do it.

  A more contemporary poet, Maya Angelou, has these words to give you permission: “Each of us needs to withdraw from the cares which will not withdraw from us. We need hours of aimless wandering or spates of time sitting on park benches, observing the mysterious world of ants and the canopy of treetops.” I appreciate her image of cares that “will not withdraw from us”—as if they are stuck to us and the only way to be rid of them is with “hours of endless wanderings.”

  Notice that both poets use the verb need. This is not optional. So please take note, we—the poets and I—have now given you permission for Stopping. Will you as willingly and joyfully give it to yourself? That's the real question.

  In the Judeo-Christian tradition, God gave the Sabbath as a day to rest. Whatever happened to it? Saturday and Sunday have become as rushed as any Monday. Jesus, who frequently spent time by himself, would also spend forty days and forty nights in the desert, apart and alone. Once he even lectured Martha, who was running around doing things, saying that her sister Mary, who was doing nothing but sitting quietly, had “chosen the better part.” He also says, “Come apart and rest awhile.” A nun in one of my seminars told how her community augments these words: “Come apart and rest awhile. And if you don't rest awhile, you'll come apart.” A good Stopping slogan.