Where Does ‘Healing’ Fit into Awakening?

 As a practicing psychotherapist who felt like I was on a journey towards awakening for the majority of my adult life, I can’t say I had an easy time finding a single path. Spending the past 6 years creating a bespoke, advanced practice independent study in transdisciplinary healing, I found myself surprised when it turned out that my pursuit of healing also turned into my awakening path. In this essay I would like to offer a unique way of making the case for (ongoing) healing along your spiritual journey– whether you’ve realized you’re awake, or you’re still in the prison cell of thinking you’re not awake, or if you’re deepening into, and integrating, embodied awakeness.

Confusion about Healing in the Context of Awakening

To ground the abstract point I’m trying to make about the confusion of the role of healing in awakening, I’ll bring in a podcast I’d been drawn to because of its name, “After Awakening”. I became laser-focused on one part of the discussion by the podcast host, Ryan Burton, and his guest, Tim Hwang. Both identified as long-time meditators who’d found “Pragmatic dharma” communities as they’d deepened into their practices. 

Pragmatic Dharma communities apply practical approaches to meditation, mindfulness, and Buddhist teachings by exploring direct experiences of meditation and insight. Within these communities, with relevant players like Tina Rasmussen, Daniel Ingram and Kenneth Folk, there’s an emphasis on direct experience over traditional dogma or beliefs, integration of contemporary psychology and science with older contemplative practices, and a desire to bridge the gap between ancient wisdom and contemporary understanding.
In their podcast discussion, Hwang and Burton touch on what seems to me to be an often-unnamed dynamic that arises with Western enlightenment seekers. In talking about whether Hwang experienced what he would consider “a dark night”, a period of intense distress precipitating the death of the ego, Burton articulates the question:   

RJB: In the pragmatic circles, how do you differentiate between your personal stuff coming up, like trauma being released, and an actual insight stage? Is there a differentiation?

TH: So from what I've learned, it's up for discussion. It's really hard to diagnose …people are trying to discern it, they're trying to suss out the differences.

RJB: From my understanding, trauma is very different from stages of insights, kind of a separate thing. Re-experiencing trauma, that's something that happened in your past. And then stages of insight, they could look similar, they might overlap, but I don't think they're the same thing.

Burton goes into detail about his personal, multi-year experience with what he calls a period of oscillation around the felt sense of apathy, and working with the identification of being “everything”. In his nuanced description, he fleshes out how it felt “like a dance– between having the experience of being everything in the forefront of consciousness, and then identifying as the personality. So one day you’re in this identification as the entire universe,  ‘I am Everything’, and then the next day, you’re in this identification of you being a person​​,” replete with subsequent contraction. Hwang asks how Burton worked with this experience, and Burton replies that he just kept practicing. He worked with a nondual teacher, Tina Rasmussen, and he did something called “timeline therapy” from NLP. Hwang responds:

TH: I think that's a really important point to say that [NLP helped]. You know, spiritual practice is not gonna solve all your problems... It's one tool in the tool shed when maybe you need to talk to a therapist. Maybe you need to get some exercise, maybe you need to eat right. Sometimes I felt like I was kind of almost barking up the wrong tree. For some of the things I was dealing with, like, ‘oh, I want my spiritual practice to help me with my anxiety’, let me go for a run. That's gonna be really useful too. It's a combination of all of it. You gotta weave it all together. You gotta weave all your personal development work, with spiritual work.

While it’s refreshing, from my perspective, to hear two advanced practitioners talking candidly about this complex, rarely-discussed area, I walked away from the interview with the unsettled sense that the remaining murkiness seemed as vast and muddy as the Mississippi river.

The first confusion that seems to arise has to do with the frustrating limitations of language, especially as we use words across what, in our contemporary Western world, we consider ‘separate’ disciplines. What I hear Hwang’s words reveal is a cultural premise of compartmentalization, where ‘spiritual practice’ is distinct and separate from ‘talking with your therapist’, which would also be different from getting exercise, or eating right. When we look back to various spiritual traditions, where fasting or dietary practices and rituals get ‘baked in’ to spiritual practice, we see a clear example of cultural bias in constructing demarcations for where ‘spiritual practice’ begins and ends.

Although I see shifts occurring, where what were once ‘separate’ disciplines no longer seem separate, certainly my personal experience has involved a lot of sitting in (mostly unspoken) confusion around where psychology, healing, and Self-realization begin and end. Almaas, founder of the Diamond Approach, speaks to one aspect of this confusion in these terms: “The Diamond Approach is described by its adherents as a “response to an important need that is being felt in many quarters, a need for a spiritually informed psychology, or conversely, for a psychologically grounded spirituality. This perspective does not separate psychological and spiritual experience, and hence sees no dichotomy between depth psychology and spiritual work… This body of knowledge is not an integration or synthesis of modern depth psychology and traditional spiritual understanding. The inclination to think in terms of integration of the two is due to the prevailing belief in the dichotomy between the fields of psychology and spirituality, a dichotomy in which the Diamond Mind understanding does not participate.”

The rebel in me wants to high five Almaas’s peaceful non-participation in the dichotomy between the fields of psychology and spirituality. And still, I’ve often gotten frustrated at where this ‘opting out’ leaves us. Not so much from Almaas’s place of transcending a dichotomy, but instead from a fuzzy place, where we’re not even seeing our own blindspots, and where we’ve failed to leave helpful breadcrumbs for those who come after us. As Shinzen Young pointed to in his ‘damned if you don’t’ conceptualization of not talking about enlightenment paths–where, in failing to describe a path, teachers leave students at risk of lacking motivation and direction, and of not being sensitive to benchmarks–I have a similar worry for psychotherapists (not to mention their clients!) who lack a vision of Self-realization, nevermind a sense of how psychotherapeutic work actually gets us there.

Perhaps because of my background as a therapist, my ears have always perked up when I’d find myself on retreat, for instance an Adyashanti retreat, and during the inquiry period people would ask a question about something related to their personal history or intense emotion where they felt stuck. Adya would sometimes respond by directing the person to ‘go do therapeutic work’ (qualifying his recommendation by saying that it would probably be wise to seek out a particular type of therapist–not just any therapist–but a handful of therapists Adya perceived as being actually helpful).

In my own process, when I was doing a month-long Vipassana retreat with Sylvia Boorstein, I was touched when Sylvia, a retired Clinical Social Worker, said to me in an interview “we’re not really supposed to talk about your childhood, but tell me about your childhood.” I found Sylvia’s question especially charming in the context of her just having offered me half of the banana she was eating. To my impressionable view, she seemed, instinctively and fluidly, to model how to offer whatever a student might need in a given moment. Whether geared towards mitigation of a blood sugar dip, a discussion about family of origin dynamics, or a complex deconstruction of Buddhist theory, Sylvia met what was arising and said: ‘yes, let’s work with what’s alive for you right at this moment’. 

But this variability–that wherever a person might find themselves in their individual process called for a wildly different teaching or intervention than another student at another place in their process– seems to perpetuate the very murkiness I yearned to clarify. I don’t feel like I’m alone in feeling confused about where psychotherapy–and other forms of healing, like shamanic or energy healing–fit into the broad brushstrokes of waking up.

From a (possibly snobbish) psychotherapeutic place, I also remember back to my grad school professors, who warned us of the hazards of thinking we were practicing in an ‘integrated’ way, when we were actually just practicing in a sloppy way. At the same time, incongruously, I’ve noticed myself experiencing the strong hunch that some of the people I’ve encountered on retreat–those who seem to me like they’re languishing in a particular conceptual prison, despite rigorous and sincere meditation practice–could be freed up, super fast, if they just did a half hour session with a practitioner outside of whatever lineage they were working with.  Working with the subtle energetic field, utilizing psychotherapeutic techniques to release false beliefs, somatic work, or any other number of effective interventions seemed to me like the most efficient and promising ways for people to get unstuck.

And perhaps there is a way of delineating what we might use any of these healing interventions in the service of. By this I mean, if what we think we’re doing with healing work is strengthening a separate self, or reinforcing identity, we have a very different intention than using what (ironically enough!) might be the exact same technology, or intervention, to dissolve, or see through, the illusion of a separate self. What I would argue is that it’s not so easy to discern intention across modalities. Perhaps because different lineages use different words, gesture to various stages of development, and insist on different ‘work’, I think it can feel impossibly difficult to arrive at a useful way of assessing whether a type of therapy in itself has the capacity to serve–even to hasten–awakening, or to hinder it.  

What I put forth in my larger body of work is a vision of how to hold the paradoxical stance that you’re already enlightened, while also (lovingly!) recognizing every aspect that initially feels unenlightened. According to this conceptualization, we always, and already, have 24/7, on-demand access to the beingness dimension of ourSelves. AND, in the realm of becoming, embedded trauma, unprocessed material from childhood, every false belief and wounded part appear to arise,  kicking and screaming, making it seem like all of our unenlightened bits are sitting on top of (perhaps completely obscuring) our enlightened beingness.

I believe it’s possible to start to apprehend, and work with, a truth long known by sages. We can be both. We can be healer and unhealed, simultaneously. Think of any contracted or difficult area. A deep pain from childhood, a core wound that you carry. If you can find this wound in the body, and really make contact with it, initially you might feel powerless, broken, and imperfect. From the perspective of this wound, it’s likely you can find someone to cast in the role of the villain who hurt you.

But if we can ask  “What is this pain trying to tell me? What is the pain trying to teach me? What message does it carry? What is this pain connected to?”, and then start to allow consciousness to move back and forth between the light of our core essence–the Self we can come to know as the healer within, who feels omnipotent, unbroken, and perfect– and the inner part who is in pain, we start to sense the connection between the healer within, and the pain within. If we allow them to get closer and closer, until they merge, we see through the distortion of either side of the dichotomy. We find the synthesis, which is ourSelves.

Peter Fenner, in his clear & well-conceived Radiant Mind, does an excellent job of helping us begin to apprehend the crucial role of “problem-construction” in making it feel like we’re stuck in the prison of becoming. He summarizes:

In nondual work, people arrive at a point where there’s nothing left to do–not because they’ve reached the limit of their teacher’s competence or exhausted the capacity of a therapeutic method, but simply because they find it impossible to construct a problem. They have no energy or interest in creating limitation or deficiency. Even the belief that they may suffer in the future has no meaning, because, in nondual awareness, future suffering is simply experienced for what it is–a thought …The Yoga tradition of Buddhism describes this process as the “transformation (paravrtti) of the structural foundations of our being (asraya)”. Through contact with the pure, unconditioned dimension of existence, the energies and mechanisms that condition our life lose their power to distort our experience and cause us suffering…we can’t predict in advance how this deconditioning will unfold. It occurs at its own pace and rhythm. Sometimes it’s smooth and gentle; at other times, rough and abrupt. At times we may even have the impression that we’re moving backward to an earlier stage of our development that we thought we had completed. Each of us is infinitely complex, and our path to full evolution is unique and often mysterious.

While I totally agree with Fenner’s point, that we need to find a way for “the energies and mechanisms that condition our life [to] lose their power to distort our experience and cause us suffering”, where I’d gotten discouraged as a clinician was that I couldn’t imagine a time–either for myself, or for my clients– where we would simply stop constructing problems. To me, it feels like part of our genius as humans is precisely this: our ability to construct problems.

We spend our lives trying to solve problems. But as I got further and further into my own process of awakening, what I started to realize was the problems didn’t go anywhere. I didn’t have to stop experiencing contraction, pain, life challenges.  Instead, I could lean into ‘the problem’. As with polyvagal theory, I could accept and acknowledge my creature body with its nervous system in constant flux, and give up the idea of a happily-ever-after nervous system state. I could resolve what my egoic mind had previously framed as ‘the problem’ of becoming, by recognizing the truth of my nondual nature: problem free on the beingness dimension of Self, constantly in flux on the becomingness dimension. 

Likewise, with IFS, there wasn’t a sense (as existed with dissociative identity treatment, wherein the vision of the most positive clinical outcome was reunification, or a lack of alters) that you were supposed to get rid of the parts, or reintegrate them, ending up with a healthy mono-self. Instead, IFS talks about ‘unburdening’ the parts from the roles they’ve been stuck in, befriending the parts, learning to live with them,  continuing to coexist happily and productively, led by core Self–and knowing yourself as both–Core Self (beingness) and parts (becomingness). No ego to kill off, no small self to get absorbed into bliss.

One of my clients teased me that it felt like I was teaching him “Jedi mind tricks” as I helped him work with his parts and find his way to core Self. I responded that he was mastering how to work directly with his system, no tricks needed. I reminded another, who reported frequent anxiety at the prospect of communicating with his wife, that if he just spoke for his parts, from core Self, it didn’t particularly matter what was happening at a content level with any of his parts. There was infinitely more space available when we just developed a friendly and functional relationship with our whole system–including our nervous system.

And as many others have so skillfully pointed us to, what I now believe we are trying to do–what all personal process work seems to lead us to—is to become more and more who we already are–warts, magnificence, and all. As Adyashanti says, “It is not the pursuit of greater and greater states of happiness and bliss that leads you to enlightenment, but the yearning for Reality and the rabid dissatisfaction with living anything less than a fully authentic life.” Continuing to work with what starts off feeling like our holes is what points us home to the nondual truth of ourSelves, for it is the longing, the yearning, the refusal to settle for anything less than ALL that we are that allows us to realize who we actually are. 

This truth is encapsulated in Lex Hixon’s translation of Ramakrishna: “whether you follow the ideal of the Personal God or the impersonal Truth, you will certainly realize the One Reality, provided that you experience profound longing.” To me, serenity in the 21st century means leaning into our longing,  throwing out the idea of a linear awakening process or self-realization path, and seeing that we can shift back and forth (at any moment) between the conditioned (constantly healing) and unconditioned (ever perfect, where the concept of healing has no relevance) dimensions of ourSelves. Between the two, we flow.

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