The Archetype Diet

by Dana James

  For two decades I would believe that my smeary lens of unattractiveness had interpreted that event correctly. But years later, I told this story to a friend who brushed it off and said, “Oh, you probably just dressed differently than the others.” In that moment, I saw it all—the tape on rewind, the poison I had swallowed, the daggers that had cut away at my self-worth. All lies! The man’s error had nothing to do with how attractive I was; it was simply pattern recognition, and I was the outlier. I looked like Snow White with jet black hair, wearing a pretty dress with ruby red lipstick, while the other three women were bronzed beachside blondes wearing jeans and tank tops, an outfit reminiscent of Sports Illustrated swimsuit models. It was like dropping a nun into the middle of the Playboy mansion. Our clothing choices couldn’t have been more different!

  Once I got over the shock of realizing how distorted my interpretation of this incident had been, I called my mother. Did she remember the event in question? Of course she didn’t. Our memories encode best when we’re fully present in the moment, and nothing makes you present like a charged emotion. I harbored the emotion of shame; she didn’t. She reassured me that she had always thought I was attractive, words that revived my self-worth like an oxygen mask resuscitates a hyperventilating patient. Seeing this episode without my filter of unattractiveness was the third R—Reinterpretation.

  Memories shape who we are for better and for worse. They allow us to learn from our mistakes and avoid situations that we know are dangerous. But they can also root us too firmly to the past as we spend our lives behaving in ways that protect us from a threat that doesn’t exist. They are like blinders, keeping us too myopically focused on one thing while preventing us from seeing the whole picture.

  The incidents that defined me as a woman were not tragic events but minor ones—like not being identified as my mother’s daughter—that I’d misinterpreted to be more meaningful—and damning—than they were. Only by reexamining them under a different light—one brightened by compassion and empathy rather than shame—was I finally able to see how mistaken I’d been and the unnecessary pain I had caused myself.

  No matter how disturbing or trifling the memory may be, reinterpreting it offers you a chance to heal. When you’re attached to the memory, seeing beyond your filter can be near impossible. You can get caught up in thinking, “Of course it’s true! It happened! I was there!” Indeed, the incident did happen, and there’s no way to change it, but just as there are photographic filters that can alter how you view an image, your mind has thousands of filters to change how you view a memory.

  One day, my normally mild-mannered client Mia went into a rage and threw a chair across the room after receiving a text from her mother. Her repressed anger had bubbled to the surface, and she couldn’t contain it any longer. “I feel like such a disappointment,” she confided to me. To the outside observer, she was anything but: she had a successful business, happy marriage, strong friendships, and an active social life. But behind this lay a troubled relationship with her mother, who refused to accept Mia’s husband, despite their ten-year marriage. Mia resented her mother and felt her mother’s love was extended only when she played into her mother’s requests.

  I asked Mia to read me the text message that had triggered the explosive reaction. It said: “I’m disappointed that you didn’t respond earlier to the wedding invitation from your cousin.” To the outside observer, this reads as nothing more than her mother telling her (if somewhat critically) that she was disappointed about a very specific thing. To Mia, it read, “You are a disappointment”—a subtle difference but a significant distortion that was causing her immense pain.

  When I pointed this out to Mia, she was startled by her misinterpretation. Had her mother actually called her a disappointment as a child or had she just misinterpreted this, too? In that moment, she saw how insidious her filter of disappointment had been. It had weaved its way into her work and marriage. When her clients requested changes, she took this to mean that she had messed up (and was therefore a disappointment), rather than that her clients had simply changed their preference. When her husband asked her to do something, she assumed she had somehow disappointed him. She should have thought of this before he asked.

  I asked Mia to speak to her mother. Did she really think she was a disappointment, and had she ever? The answer was a resounding no. Mia’s mother very much admired and loved her daughter (even if she thought she was tardy with her wedding invitation response). She had also grown to like Mia’s husband even though, at the time of their marriage, she wasn’t sure if he was going to be successful enough for Mia. This much-needed mother-daughter conversation helped heal years of pain as Mia finally saw the distorted lens she had been living life through.

  When my client Elizabeth was struggling to lose weight despite following a clean diet and exercising four times a week, I asked her if there might be something emotional blocking the weight loss. Her body fat looked like a protective cushion, and I suspected she was shielding herself from some past upset. She pondered this, then replied, “This is so silly, but I have a really painful memory from my wedding. When I proudly told my best friend (and bridesmaid) that I had lost twenty pounds for the wedding, she said she didn’t even notice, and then after the wedding she ghosted me. I was distraught for two years, and it’s still upsetting for me to look at our wedding photos with her in them.” I suggested to Elizabeth that perhaps she had linked losing weight to losing friends and this was an emotional (and protective) reason for her to keep the weight on. If she lost weight again, would she lose friends again? Consciously she knew this wasn’t true, but her subconscious didn’t.

  To reinterpret the memory, I asked a little bit about her friend. Elizabeth explained that the friend came from an unstable family environment with a father who was often unfaithful. I suggested that perhaps her friend hadn’t ghosted her because she lost weight but rather because by getting married Elizabeth had formed her own stable family unit, the antithesis of what her friend was used to. Rather than share Elizabeth’s happiness, the wedding had pointed out what her friend was painfully lacking in her own life. Elizabeth will never know if this is true or not, but the “truth” here is irrelevant. We were simply trying to remove the sting from this memory and her belief that she had done something wrong to cause it.

  Like Elizabeth, not everyone has the opportunity to speak to the parties involved in the memory. If you do, be bold and ask for their perspective, no matter how intimidating it may seem. This is not a blame game; you’re not accusing them of ruining your sense of self. You’re trying to get a more complete picture so you can heal. If you don’t have that option, make up the most fantastical story you can think of, one that will make you laugh, and see how silly the misinterpretation you imposed on the situation is. It doesn’t matter whether the new interpretation is true or not, only that it helps you wipe away the filter of shame that says, “I’m flawed and can therefore be discarded.”

  I’ve had to reinterpret several of my own childhood memories. One of the more painful memories occurred when I was seven years old reading in front of the class. I had an accent, having arrived in Australia from New Zealand the year before, and couldn’t articulate the difference between “Bill” the farmer and a bull. “Bill” sounded like “bull” with my accent. My teacher was persistent and I felt humiliated by her. It was impossible for me to pronounce “Bill” the way she wanted me to. After that experience, my distraught seven-year-old self decided that the best thing to do was to avoid reading (and speaking) to groups ever again! But this desire to withdraw was thwarted because public speaking was part of the school curriculum. Instead, I would experience a huge surge of anxiety before I spoke, as if I was reliving the class humiliation.

  Like most of us, I wasn’t aware that this anxiety was being triggered from my upsetting childhood memory, I simply assumed I was one of those many millions of people who also feared public speaking. However, once I c
onnected the two, I had my aha moment. Public speaking was not fear inducing; it was just making me relive the humiliation I felt as a child. When I recognized this association, I was able to reinterpret it. Since I couldn’t go back to my second-grade teacher, I decided that her persistence in correcting my pronunciation was her seeing my potential and wanting me to flourish in life. It’s irrelevant if it’s true or not but it was certainly better than my previous filter, which said, “My second-grade teacher was a bitch and she humiliated me.”

  I was then able to believe, with both my conscious and subconscious mind, that a mispronounced word doesn’t mean you are wrong, and being wrong doesn’t mean you’ll be humiliated. Today, I have simply accepted that I will mispronounce a word (I have an Australian accent and live in the United States) and just laugh it off. My reinterpreted memory dissolved my anxiety around public speaking and I now relish the idea of speaking to large audiences.

  EXERCISE

  Take two of the core memories that you unearthed in the last chapter and reinterpret them using compassion and love. Ask yourself, “How can I look at this memory through a different lens?” Remember, the new interpretation doesn’t need to be the truth—you’re just changing the way you view the memory. If you’re attached to your original interpretation of the memory, you might need the help of an imaginative friend to offer you some rose-colored glasses to soften the focus. Write down the memory and reinterpretation.

  ORIGINAL MEMORY

  REINTERPRETED MEMORY

  How does this new perception make you feel? Are you more at ease? Do you feel less triggered by the memory?

  Forgive yourself for your misinterpretation and anyone else in this memory that upset you. They most likely didn’t realize how strongly the event registered with you.

  Visit http://bit.ly/2jGpcvH for a printable version of this worksheet.

  If you’d like to reinterpret other memories that touch off a heightened emotional response, do so. I’ve found that once you reinterpret the core memories, the little ones lose their power even more quickly.

  By reinterpreting these core memories, the shame of them melts away and you break the judgment that your self-worth was built upon. The protective patterns you have put in place to insulate you from experiencing that feeling again are no longer needed. The self-worth matrix cracks.

  CHAPTER 18

  Release Your Emotions

  Once you have Recognized and Reinterpreted your core memories, the emotional charge attached to the memory will lessen, bringing an immediate sense of relief. However, rarely does an intellectual understanding of a damaging memory completely dissolve the pain attached to it. Most often there are lingering emotions, almost as if your cells have stored that memory with that emotion. In psychophysiology, there’s a well-known saying: “What the mind forgets, the body remembers.” Freud famously said, “Unexpressed emotions will never die. They are buried alive and will come forth later in uglier ways.”

  You can’t change the fact that past, painful events occurred, but you can change the body’s physical response to events that trigger those memories and the negative emotions associated with them. This is the forth R, and it allows you to physically Release the hold your core memories have on you.

  FEELING SAFE WITH YOUR MEMORIES

  There are two types of fear responses: instinctive and learned. Instinctive fear occurs in a life-or-death situation, like an ax-wielding man coming after you on a dark night. Overhearing an offhand comment about your weight, having no friends, or being humiliated at work are not life-or-death situations, but if you attach a negative emotion to them, they can cause the same stress response. This is called “learned fear” because your mind has associated the negative experience with fear. This fear is stored in the amygdala, and whenever a similar situation arises, it will tap into the memory and initiate the preprogrammed “fight-flight-freeze” stress response, characterized by sweaty palms, an elevated heart rate, anxiety, panic, immobilization, and an upset stomach.

  But just as you can learn to feel fear, you can also learn to feel safety. As with learned fear, learned safety is the result of learning to associate a particular stimulus (an event, person, place, or situation) with protection from harm. When Nobel laureate Eric Kandel and his research team created safety conditions for rodents that they had previously made frightened, there was a dramatic reduction in their fear. In one study, mice were forced to swim in a pool of water—a desperate situation for them. The safety-conditioned mice overcame their sense of hopelessness while the fear-conditioned mice panicked and became very distressed.1

  The researchers also noticed that learned safety increased brain-derived neurotrophic factor, BDNF, which creates new neurons and connections. There was also less activity in the amygdala, where fear memories are formed. Learned safety also altered the genetic expression of dopamine and the neuropeptide system (groups of chemicals that influence emotion) in the amygdala.2

  This research suggests that you can learn to feel safe with your core memory. Instead of viewing the circumstances of that memory as inherent stressors that trigger a negative emotion, you can learn to associate those circumstances with a neutral outcome. By doing this, you can rewire your brain in a similar way to reprocessing your memory with a safety filter. Your mind imprints the memory with safety, which in turn alters your physical and emotional responses to situations that trigger the memory. The effects of anxiety, depression, and stress become muted, just like they did with the safety-conditioned mice.

  When the core memory no longer causes painful emotional and physical responses, your protective behaviors become obsolete. You don’t need to say yes to everyone, stay in a depleting job, endure a bad relationship, or diminish your self-worth because someone made an offhand comment about you. The barriers that you created to protect yourself from the negative emotions associated with a painful memory can be dismantled because the protective armor is no longer needed.

  CREATING SAFETY: THE TECHNIQUES—EFT AND YOGIC BREATH

  The two safety modalities that I use in my practice are emotional freedom technique (EFT) and yogic breath practices from kundalini yoga. EFT was developed in the 1980s and uses the same energy points targeted by acupressure and acupuncture to release stored negative energy from the body. Kundalini yoga is an ancient yogic practice that is derived from raja yoga—the yoga for royalty. It combines meditation, mantras, breath, and music to enhance consciousness and improve mental control.

  Both approaches require you to recall an upsetting memory, feel the emotion, and then release the emotion through a physical action—either tapping or breathing, respectively. Both will Release the residual emotional charge of the memory.

  Emotional Freedom Technique

  Frequently referred to as “tapping,” EFT uses acupressure and acceptance therapy to invoke safety and dissolve the energetic disturbance of a memory. Acupressure uses the same pressure points and meridians as acupuncture, but instead of needles, it uses firm finger pressure. Acceptance therapy asks you to accept the situation without judgment or the impulse to act on thoughts and emotions.

  Psychologist and EFT practitioner Dr. Mary Ayers describes EFT using a computer analogy: Imagine your memories, stored in the amygdala, as a file. EFT finds the file and gives it a name, then you tap the file while saying its name and opening it up. Focusing on the file (or memory) activates the mind and triggers the same “freeze” response in your body that you originally experienced when the memory was formed. Tapping while the file is open is like hitting the delete key to uninstall an old program, one that is outdated or flawed. When you replay the old experience in your mind, you find that it no longer triggers those old feelings. The memory is still there but without its physical and emotional response.

  Research is also supporting this. In one study, EFT was so powerful that after just a single hour-long
session, study participants reported a 50 percent reduction in their anxiety and depression.3 There was also a 24 percent reduction in cortisol levels, with some participants experiencing a whopping 50 percent drop in cortisol. In comparison, there was no significant cortisol reduction in those who underwent an hour of psychotherapy. Similarly, veterans with post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) who underwent ten hour-long EFT sessions saw their PTSD score decrease by 50 percent. These gains were maintained six months later, even though no more EFT was given. The EFT also altered six of the genes involved in PTSD.4

  The basic sequence of EFT involves locating an emotional upset and then tapping twelve meridian points in the body. Meridian points are located along the path through which energy—what the ancient Chinese referred to as “ch’i”—flows throughout the body. As you tap these meridian points, you concentrate on the problem at hand—in this case your core memory. As you do this, the tapping motion sends a signal to the body and rebalances the energy so that the emotion associated with it is released. Essentially you are creating a condition of safety that demonstrates to your body that there is no need to be afraid of the memory; it is not a threat that requires you to fight, fly, or freeze. This releases the emotional charge that previously directed your behavior so you are no longer wired to respond a particular way whenever the memory resurfaces.

  Dr. Mary Ayers has created a video series for you to experience EFT. You’ll find it at danajames.com.

  Yogic Breathing—Kundalini Yoga

  Breathing is so fundamental to life that it has a dual control system: unconscious breathing through the autonomic nervous system and conscious breathing through the voluntary nervous system. A three-minute conscious breath series will transform an angry, frustrated, or upset woman into a calm, graceful, feminine woman who likes herself again. It works faster than a glass of wine and doesn’t come with the guilt-shame cycle that a doughnut does! Yet most of us live in unconscious breath, unaware of how powerful conscious breath is in changing our emotional state.