Hakomi Mindfulness-Centered Somatic Psychotherapy

by Halko Weiss

  In line with the unity principle and Wilber’s holonic four-quadrant model (Chapter 5), the more integral the transformation process, the better the chances of experientially reinforcing the new beliefs. In fact, one of the largest weaknesses of individual therapy is sending someone back into a context that does not support the growth and development at stake—though the transformed person does have increased abilities to influence the surroundings as well (Deci & Ryan, 1985; Feldman et al., 2001). As part of the integration process, it might be a good time for the therapist and client to assess any helpful changes that could be made in the context of the person’s daily life. For instance, should partners (Fisher, 2002; Napier, 1988), family members (Benz, 1989; Van Mistri, 2008), or friends be brought in for an integration session? Might the client benefit from group therapy (Schulmeister, 1988) for opportunities to take in experiences of being supported by peers? What cultural issues (Brown & Kasser, 2005; Foster, Moskowitz, & Javier, 1996; Johanson, 1992; Jordan, Kaplan, Miller, Stiver, & Surrey, 1991; Pinderhughes, 1989) and social structures (Daly & Cobb, 1989; Edwards, 2000; Korten, 2009) related to the multiple communities that influence the client need attention? Is it possible to modify any of the communities the client is a part of, with their various cultural values, to be more supportive, or to exit some that might interfere with progress? If the person has a spiritual community, could some sort of supportive ritual be done that symbolizes growth or transition? Is it now more possible to implement helpful changes in diet or exercise, or to benefit from bodywork, or incorporate yoga, tai chi or qigong? Is there a way to modify the client’s relationship to social structures through changes in work, housing, school, transportation, and so on? Is the person now more ready to benefit from a job counselor? In general, Walsh states that these “therapeutic lifestyle changes (TLCs) are underutilized despite considerable evidence of their effectiveness in both clinical and normal populations” (2011, p. 579). Sometimes TLCs can be helpful in themselves, and sometimes intrapsychic transformation has to happen before a client is willing or able to take advantage of them.

  Conclusion

  Hakomi therapists work with all three approaches to transformation outlined above in an ongoing manner: They continuously track for the mindful observer; they contact, uncover, and help integrate disconnected or rejected parts; and they look for the indicators of formative beliefs that limit a person’s range of experience and behavior. All of this is held by the therapists’ state of loving presence, which helps repair attachment ruptures and supports a state of earned secure attachment in the client (Siegel, 2012). The Hakomi therapist then helps the client integrate these changes into the context of daily life.

  Thus, the three kinds of transformational approaches are strongly interrelated: The observing mind learns to disidentify from extreme states and becomes better able to befriend, explore, and integrate different parts. The receipt of understanding and care from an empathic therapist can be drawn upon and generalized to interactions with important others. Finally, the provision and integration of experiences that counteract implicit learning processes all mix together to transform the client’s internal model of reality in ways that potentially enhance resiliency, allow for a fuller range of experiences, and promote a more positive view of self and others.

  CHAPTER 21

  The Flow of the Process

  Maya Shaw Gale

  The map is not the territory.

  ALFRED KORZYBSKI, Science and Sanity, 1933

  WHILE THE FLOW of client-therapist interactions in a Hakomi session has the felt sense of a spontaneous, nonlinear, and multidimensional process, there is an underlying structure that guides its unfolding. This structure involves a basic sequence of steps that aids the therapist in carrying out the essential tasks of the Hakomi method—the intentional evoking, and then processing, of experiences in a mindful state of consciousness. It provides a pathway toward the desired destination of uncovering and transforming the client’s limiting core beliefs and moves the process through clearly identifiable phases. It is linear in the sense that it has an ideal beginning, middle, and end. The structure of the Hakomi process offers a general itinerary, suggested action steps along the way, and a possible outcome—though another principle of the work is to always be ready to key off the spontaneous.

  Thus, as students of Hakomi soon discover, this sequence describes an idealized trajectory that, in practice, has a thousand variations. Steps are sometimes reversed or omitted. At any given point in the process, everything might backtrack to the beginning stages. The Hakomi therapist must become comfortable with a continual dance between left and right brain functions: loosely holding an awareness of the basic sequence of the flow but surrendering moment by moment to the essentially nonlinear nature of a complex system unfolding.

  Charts, graphs, and diagrams are not particularly suited to conveying the nuances of nonlinear processes, but they can offer a way to orient and to navigate the complexities of this difficult territory. Figure 21.1 was developed as just such a navigational tool. It is meant to function as a map, helping Hakomi therapists recognize where they are at any given time during a Hakomi session, what might happen at that point, where they might get stuck, and what options they have.

  As when using a road map, the therapist must be prepared for surprising twists and turns or roadblocks not predicted by the map, and be willing to improvise or backtrack.

  While realizing that the map is not the territory, let’s take a look at the Map of the Process (Figure 21.1). The shaded ovals in the center represent the two main states of consciousness (ordinary consciousness and mindfulness) that the client could be experiencing at different phases of the process. The smaller circles symbolize additional states of consciousness that may arise spontaneously or be evoked. The shaded rectangles identify the actions or responses of the therapist at appropriate points in the process. Large arrows indicate the overall direction in which the process moves, whereas the smaller arrows show movement between different states that may occur during the process.

  Figure 21.1. Map of the Process

  A typical session begins with the client in ordinary consciousness, often focused on a problem or issue she wants to address. The therapist’s initial task is to establish the healing relationship as a container and framework within which the rest of the process can unfold (Chapter 9). Imagine a larger oval surrounding the entire flowchart; this denotes the special “bubble” of safety, loving presence, and partnership that must be cultivated and tended throughout the session. The healing relationship is, in turn, informed and framed by the Hakomi principles, the largest context that supports the flow of the process (Chapter 5).

  Tracking and contact are the skills that help the therapist initially connect to the client’s present-moment experience and then to reflect what is observed back to the client, thus demonstrating the understanding that gains the trust of the client’s unconscious (Chapter 14). A certain level of trust and safety, and an attitude of cooperation are necessary prerequisites for accessing mindfulness, the next step in the process. These qualities of the relationship are also important to maintain throughout the process, and so tracking and contacting become the therapist’s bread and butter. Tracking and contacting are skills used in every phase.

  Accessing (Chapter 15) happens when we help the client shift into mindfulness, a special state of consciousness where deeper layers of information and meaning become available. Mindfulness (Chapters 6, 10, and 16) involves a dual aspect of consciousness: being fully immersed or embodied in one’s present-moment experience and simultaneously having the slightly detached perspective of an impartial and compassionate observer. The eye embedded in the mindfulness oval represents the self-witnessing dimension of this state.

  As shown in Figure 21.1, once a state of mindfulness has been accessed in the client, the therapist can proceed to make use of the next sequence of steps that lead to transformation (Chapter 20). Deepening techniques (Chapter 15) help the client to in
crease the felt sense of his present experience and to experientially discover the connections to habitual patterns and themes of core material. As core material is processed, the therapist guides the client in exploring limiting beliefs (Chapter 7) and the barriers to new forms of nourishment and expanded experiences that have kept them in place (Chapter 17). Transformation happens when the client has a felt sense experience of taking in a new option, and reorganizes around including that option previously organized out (Chapter 20).

  However, there are some states in which the observing consciousness temporarily dissolves or is only partially available. What we call riding the rapids is designated by a circle entirely outside the mindfulness oval, because it is a state of spontaneous emotional release during which the client’s ability to mindfully observe her experience is usually not accessible (at least not verbally). As the several small arrows indicate, this state can be evoked when the client is working in mindfulness or from ordinary consciousness.

  The gray rectangle to the left of this circle indicates specific strategies the therapist can follow when the client, often quite suddenly, shifts into riding the rapids. In cases where the client’s experience of strong emotion seems to be embodied and following a natural arc of release and relaxation, the therapist supports the spontaneous behavior that emerges. In cases where the client dissociates, panics, or becomes stuck in a repeating loop without resolution, various trauma approaches can be used to stabilize the client and bring her back to mindfulness (Chapter 24).

  The child state of consciousness (Chapter 18) is pictured in the diagram as partly inside and partly outside of the mindfulness oval. Although a client who shifts into this unique state—a kind of fully embodied memory of childhood—is often able to maintain the parallel consciousness of the adult observer, sometimes he is not. However, as soon as possible, the therapist’s intention is to guide the client to reconnect with the compassionate witness.

  The child state of consciousness may be seen as one of many possible parts or subselves that can emerge during the process. These are indicated by the multiple overlapping circles.

  Although not every session proceeds neatly through deep mindfulness and processing to significant transformation, the natural and required course for clients is to return to ordinary consciousness in the last portion of the session. It is here that clients are supported to integrate whatever they have learned and, ideally, to complete the session in a way that allows them to translate this learning in a meaningful way into their lives outside of therapy (Chapter 20).

  Overall, the flow of the process will have different rhythms and sequential patterns with each client and even in individual sessions with the same client. A client whose character style takes refuge in lots of thinking and theorizing may, at first, make little forays into mindfulness, and then continually return to the familiar intellectual territory of ordinary consciousness. Gradually, over time and a number of sessions, he may begin to experience enough safety to stay in mindfulness for longer periods. Another client may drop into deep processing in mindfulness at the very beginning of a session, but need more time to integrate in ordinary consciousness in the second half of the session. A third client may shuttle back and forth between being immersed in overwhelming emotions (riding the rapids) and moments of reviewing what happened before learning that she can be mindfully present in her experience without getting lost in it or coming out to talk about it.

  Figure 21.1 can also be a map over time for the trajectory of long-term therapy. The same general structure can apply to the phases that the client and therapist will move through together over a period of weeks, months, or years. Even though all stages of the process may be visited in the beginning of therapy, at the metalevel, the early emphasis is on establishing the relationship with increasing levels of trust. As that happens over time, deeper layers of core material can be processed, with more sustained mindfulness. Then, in the termination phase of therapy, the emphasis is on integration and completion, with more time being spent preparing for closure in ordinary consciousness.

  When the Hakomi principles are held as the largest frame for the flow of the process, there is no conflict between linear and nonlinear aspects. With the principles of nonviolence and organicity, there is a balance of following and leading (Chapter 12) and neither rigidly adhering to a plan nor losing a sense of direction. With unity and mindfulness, staying connected in relationship and in the present moment with one’s own mindful observer keeps the process alive, fresh, and relevant. No need to consult the map at every turn.

  To paraphrase Bob Marley, the process

  is one big road with lots of signs,

  So when you’re riding through the ruts,

  Don’t complicate your mind.

  Just keep the map in your back pocket and trust the process!

  CHAPTER 22

  Jumping Out of the System

  Rob Fisher

  IT WAS ALREADY 40 minutes into the session and I was feeling intensely uncomfortable. Specifically, in my countertransference to this obviously talented and active woman, I felt useless and ineffective as a therapist. Although I have suffered bouts of low self-esteem in my life, I do not always feel this way, so the event was noteworthy. Helen, my client, kept talking, coming up with insights and feelings, which, at least outwardly, made the session look like real psychotherapy. I knew, however, that I had done very little except to squirm occasionally, as she had undertaken the session very much on her own. She was now talking about how other people never really helped her out or supported her and how, in contrast, she supported them a great deal. I realized that this was happening between us even as she spoke. Helen, a master of self-reliance, was being both client and therapist. Her expectation of help was very low, so she engaged in the session basically on her own, in the same way in which she engaged in her life outside of my office. Our relationship was a microcosm of the dynamics that occurred between her, her family, and her friends. By preempting me from helping her, she confirmed her belief that she was alone in the world and had to do everything herself. My countertransference provided the first key to exploring and working through this difficult and painful reenactment of the limiting core beliefs that plagued her in many aspects of her life.

  This kind of self-reinforcing relational dynamic that includes cognition, affect, and behavior occurs frequently in psychotherapy between client and therapist. The deconstruction and exploration of this occurrence provides important clues to clients’ core issues and the symptomatic problems that they present.

  Systems in Human Relationships

  It is inevitable that people in relationships enter into repetitive systems. These systems involve patterns of perceiving, feeling, behaving, and interacting that reinforce each other in circular ways. Systems occur in families, in intimate couple relationships, and, notably, in the process of psychotherapy. Being able to notice the system that a therapist unconsciously enters into with the client—being able to name it in a nonjudgmental fashion, connect it to the client’s presenting problem, and find a way to explore it with respect, curiosity, and warmth—is one of the hallmarks of a master psychotherapist.

  Actually, master therapists have been confounded by systems for a long time. Freud’s vexation with being at the mercy of such systems fed into his concept of the repetition compulsion and supported in part his theory of a death instinct. He reasoned that since people resisted what he was offering to attain a more fulfilling life, they must have a fundamental wish for its opposite (Johanson, 1999a).

  Likewise, Watzlawick and his colleagues at the MRI (Mental Research Institute) group (Watzlawick, Beavin, & Jackson, 1967; Watzlawick et al., 1974) noted that systems are invariant or stuck on the level of what they term first-order change. This means things change within the system without the system itself being affected. Thus, the more things change, the more they stay the same—a horror story of therapy—as when the identified patient in a family is cured of symptoms only to have some other fa
mily member become dysfunctional. Everyone is caught up in a game without end. Any changes are illusory.

  Second-order change, according to Watzlawick and the MRI group (which also included Gregory Bateson, Milton Erikson, Don Jackson, and Virginia Satir), represents a change to a different logical type of system, with a different body of rules governing the structure or internal order of the system’s members. It is as if the program that governs the action of the computer has been changed. The system itself has changed. Examples are changes from dream states to waking states, from position to motion, from manipulating an accelerator to shifting gears, or from scapegoating relationships to accepting, empathic relationships. The metaphor Watzlawick and his colleagues liked to use is this: being part of a system is like participating in a game that has no possible positive outcome. As long as these rules are unconsciously understood as facts, it will go on forever. Only on the higher level—the metalevel—where the rules themselves can be questioned and changed will solutions come into view. This is the kind of change Hakomi therapy is oriented toward when it attempts to help someone reevaluate their core organizing beliefs.

  The problem in bringing about second-order change, according to Watzlawick, following Russell’s theory of logical types, is that a system cannot generate from within itself the conditions for its own change. It cannot produce the rules for changing its own rules. Second-order change must be introduced into the system from something outside the system that does not participate in it, in the sense of being caught up in the same operating rules.

  Since one’s ordinary consciousness is considered a member of one’s intrapsychic system, Watzlawick concludes that one’s awareness is best circumvented if the goal is to bring about quick, substantial change. He recommends the use of paradoxes and the various subconscious, hypnotic techniques of Milton Erikson (Johanson, 1984).