Self Worth
Through the influence of Joanna Macy, who was on the Creating Our Future board and helped lead workshops in the first year, and her Despair and Empowerment workshops, we were able to create a safe space where we could explore key questions at workshop sharing sessions, such as:
Opening their hearts and sharing deep experiences and emotions was very moving for the students, and I began to learn about the kinds of issues these kids were dealing with. As time went on, I became more and more aware of the degree to which abuse of various kinds — physical, emotional, and sexual, as well as substance abuse in response to these experiences — became the central issue in the lives of those who were abused. And most frequently, though the impact on the person’s life was pervasive, it was never acknowledged or dealt with. Girls who had been leading well-balanced lives suddenly took to excessive drug or alcohol use; who were close with their parents, became profoundly alienated from them; who were good students, started to fail and cut classes; who had normal relationships, would often begin to engage in unhealthy sexual relationships with people who treated them badly. These behaviors were typical responses the abuse was most likely sexual.
My growing awareness of the extent of sexual abuse changed the course of my life. Listening to the girls who had been abused while being the father of three teenage girls moved me profoundly. I determined to learn how to help people heal such wounds and prayed for many years for guidance in how to do so. I also looked around at how these issues were being dealt with by various systems, agencies, health professionals, and others who were working with abuse, but I found that most of them were not getting deep enough to actually bring healing. For many years, I had thought that doing a strong daily yoga or other spiritual practice would heal and clear up these wounds, but I did not find that to be the case. Spiritual practice is profoundly helpful and important, but it is not enough, in most cases, to heal the wounds of life.
Amongst those I have observed, the largest wound-generating mistreatment is sexual abuse in its many forms. Most of the statistics I have seen on the subject report a much greater frequency of physical abuse relative to other forms of abuse. However, a possible problem with the statistical research is that just about all the studies are based on reported incidents of abuse, while my experience indicates that the majority of sexual abuse incidents are not reported. It is possible that physical abuse is more frequently reported as there is somewhat less shame associated with it, so it may not be carried as such a dark secret as is frequently the case with sexual abuse.
I have found that most sexually abused people never tell anyone, for a variety of reasons. The primary inhibitor is feelings of shame, guilt, and personal embarrassment, quite frequently augmented, especially with the very young, by the perpetrator threatening personal harm if they were to say anything. Then, all too frequently, there is the hurdle of knowing that they will not be listened to even if they were to say something. Of those who do seek help after being sexually abused, many are told their account is not true and/or that it is their fault, so they wind up being treated in a way that makes the wound even worse.
When we are very young, we tend to view our parents as perfect, and if they are treating us badly, abusing us, ignoring us, or are cold to us, we conclude in our subconscious that we must have done something wrong or that we must be bad to deserve to be treated this way.
Sometimes, if the wounding is sufficiently egregious, we block the whole experience out and don’t remember being abused, as the consequent wound stories enter our subconscious; however, we act them out whether or not we are aware of their existence. Probably the most common example of this is having been sexually abused and concluding in the subconscious that sex is dirty and shameful, blocking out the originating experience so that it is not present in the conscious mind; but, whenever we attempt to make love or have some other sexual experience, it is tainted by dirty and shameful feelings.
In the many stories I heard of paternalistic families where the father ruled, the child would often be told, after the father came home from work, “Be quiet, your father is reading the newspaper, or watching TV, or eating, or relaxing.” The child is only acknowledged in being admonished or punished. I have found that in these situations, the child is longing to be seen and valued, while feeling, “I am not loved. I am not worthy of being loved.” Not infrequently, there is both the mother’s stony face, and the unavailable father.
In cases of truly egregious physical abuse, the pain and fear the child experiences mostly results in them becoming hateful, angry adults, who perpetuate corporal punishment of children down through hundreds of generations. Insofar as I can tell, we are all wounded in one way or another, generally with multiple wounds. Yet most people do not seem to be aware of their inner wounds, though the effects of the wounding are apparent in their deep-seated beliefs about the self and what is possible or not possible in life. These beliefs generally become axiomatic, meaning, “obviously true and therefore not needing to be proved.” For example: “I do not deserve to be loved.” “Nothing will ever work out.” “All men want is sex.” “You can’t trust anyone.”
In some families, it is not permitted or allowed to discuss, share, or even acknowledge family problems or issues. In these situations, the child is often told that their feelings are wrong or invalid.
The subconscious exists only in the present “now.” When a person believes that they do not deserve to be happy, to do well, to be loved, or that they deserve to suffer, they usually prove and justify that belief over and over again. This is not a consciously made choice but is directed by the subconscious. This repetitive pattern is easiest to see in addictive behavior such as eating disorders, substance abuse, and sexual addiction, and, perhaps, in self-injury behaviors.
Wounds also result from one’s physical, social, economic, racial, or religious circumstances. These are true and real, and set the parameters within which one’s life takes place. Poor diet, adverse living conditions, and toxic stress have substantial physical and psychological consequences frequently resulting in not-good- enough kinds of wound stories and a diminished capacity to deal with life.
In healing work, we cannot change or take away what happened. What we can change is the story that was implanted in our subconscious as a result of what happened. It is possible to change the story; it is possible to heal one’s wounds; it is possible to regain one’s innocence. I have witnessed this healing many, many times. This is why I do the work that I call Healing the Wounds of Life.
Until we effectively deal with the wound stories embedded in our subconscious, there is very often a fundamental disconnect between our cognitive and subconscious perceptions of ourselves, resulting in our not being able to be present or at one with ourselves. In many dysfunctional families, there is no acknowledgment or discussion about such family issues, so the child is induced to not trust his/her perception of reality. As a result of these and other inner wounds, such children often wind up with a fragmented self that encumbers their perception of and interaction with the world. Healing their inner wounds is critical to being able to foster a unified sense of self.
The purpose of my Self Worth workshops is to create a secure and sacred space in which each participant feels safe to talk about their deepest, darkest secrets; to lead them deep into their inner selves so that they can enter their subconscious and become present with themselves at the time when their inner wounds originated; and then to help them change their wound stories.
One of the critical elements of the Self Worth workshops is the creation of a space in which a person can say virtually anything that they are deeply ashamed of and have it received with love, understanding, and compassion. Many of us have something in our past or present that we are deeply ashamed of, about which we feel that if others ever knew this about us, we would be judged and rejected. One of the results of holding such beliefs is that we conclude within our subconscious that we are no good and that we must hide this from others. So, when we say these things in a group of peers and there is no negative reaction at all — but only a palpable love felt by all — this in itself is profoundly healing.
One of my prime reasons for writing my book is to make clear the pervasive impact of inner wounds on all aspects of our lives: on how we perceive the world, what kind of relationships we have, the work we choose, whether we can love and trust, and whether we can give ourselves permission to thrive in life. I hope to help create a shift in our collective understanding about the importance, and the possibility, of healing our wounds, and about what we can aspire to in our lives.
- What do you like about yourself?
- What do you not like about yourself?
- How do you feel about your parents?
- How do they feel about you?
- What are your fears about yourself and the state of the planet?
Opening their hearts and sharing deep experiences and emotions was very moving for the students, and I began to learn about the kinds of issues these kids were dealing with. As time went on, I became more and more aware of the degree to which abuse of various kinds — physical, emotional, and sexual, as well as substance abuse in response to these experiences — became the central issue in the lives of those who were abused. And most frequently, though the impact on the person’s life was pervasive, it was never acknowledged or dealt with. Girls who had been leading well-balanced lives suddenly took to excessive drug or alcohol use; who were close with their parents, became profoundly alienated from them; who were good students, started to fail and cut classes; who had normal relationships, would often begin to engage in unhealthy sexual relationships with people who treated them badly. These behaviors were typical responses the abuse was most likely sexual.
My growing awareness of the extent of sexual abuse changed the course of my life. Listening to the girls who had been abused while being the father of three teenage girls moved me profoundly. I determined to learn how to help people heal such wounds and prayed for many years for guidance in how to do so. I also looked around at how these issues were being dealt with by various systems, agencies, health professionals, and others who were working with abuse, but I found that most of them were not getting deep enough to actually bring healing. For many years, I had thought that doing a strong daily yoga or other spiritual practice would heal and clear up these wounds, but I did not find that to be the case. Spiritual practice is profoundly helpful and important, but it is not enough, in most cases, to heal the wounds of life.
Amongst those I have observed, the largest wound-generating mistreatment is sexual abuse in its many forms. Most of the statistics I have seen on the subject report a much greater frequency of physical abuse relative to other forms of abuse. However, a possible problem with the statistical research is that just about all the studies are based on reported incidents of abuse, while my experience indicates that the majority of sexual abuse incidents are not reported. It is possible that physical abuse is more frequently reported as there is somewhat less shame associated with it, so it may not be carried as such a dark secret as is frequently the case with sexual abuse.
I have found that most sexually abused people never tell anyone, for a variety of reasons. The primary inhibitor is feelings of shame, guilt, and personal embarrassment, quite frequently augmented, especially with the very young, by the perpetrator threatening personal harm if they were to say anything. Then, all too frequently, there is the hurdle of knowing that they will not be listened to even if they were to say something. Of those who do seek help after being sexually abused, many are told their account is not true and/or that it is their fault, so they wind up being treated in a way that makes the wound even worse.
When we are very young, we tend to view our parents as perfect, and if they are treating us badly, abusing us, ignoring us, or are cold to us, we conclude in our subconscious that we must have done something wrong or that we must be bad to deserve to be treated this way.
Sometimes, if the wounding is sufficiently egregious, we block the whole experience out and don’t remember being abused, as the consequent wound stories enter our subconscious; however, we act them out whether or not we are aware of their existence. Probably the most common example of this is having been sexually abused and concluding in the subconscious that sex is dirty and shameful, blocking out the originating experience so that it is not present in the conscious mind; but, whenever we attempt to make love or have some other sexual experience, it is tainted by dirty and shameful feelings.
In the many stories I heard of paternalistic families where the father ruled, the child would often be told, after the father came home from work, “Be quiet, your father is reading the newspaper, or watching TV, or eating, or relaxing.” The child is only acknowledged in being admonished or punished. I have found that in these situations, the child is longing to be seen and valued, while feeling, “I am not loved. I am not worthy of being loved.” Not infrequently, there is both the mother’s stony face, and the unavailable father.
In cases of truly egregious physical abuse, the pain and fear the child experiences mostly results in them becoming hateful, angry adults, who perpetuate corporal punishment of children down through hundreds of generations. Insofar as I can tell, we are all wounded in one way or another, generally with multiple wounds. Yet most people do not seem to be aware of their inner wounds, though the effects of the wounding are apparent in their deep-seated beliefs about the self and what is possible or not possible in life. These beliefs generally become axiomatic, meaning, “obviously true and therefore not needing to be proved.” For example: “I do not deserve to be loved.” “Nothing will ever work out.” “All men want is sex.” “You can’t trust anyone.”
In some families, it is not permitted or allowed to discuss, share, or even acknowledge family problems or issues. In these situations, the child is often told that their feelings are wrong or invalid.
The subconscious exists only in the present “now.” When a person believes that they do not deserve to be happy, to do well, to be loved, or that they deserve to suffer, they usually prove and justify that belief over and over again. This is not a consciously made choice but is directed by the subconscious. This repetitive pattern is easiest to see in addictive behavior such as eating disorders, substance abuse, and sexual addiction, and, perhaps, in self-injury behaviors.
Wounds also result from one’s physical, social, economic, racial, or religious circumstances. These are true and real, and set the parameters within which one’s life takes place. Poor diet, adverse living conditions, and toxic stress have substantial physical and psychological consequences frequently resulting in not-good- enough kinds of wound stories and a diminished capacity to deal with life.
In healing work, we cannot change or take away what happened. What we can change is the story that was implanted in our subconscious as a result of what happened. It is possible to change the story; it is possible to heal one’s wounds; it is possible to regain one’s innocence. I have witnessed this healing many, many times. This is why I do the work that I call Healing the Wounds of Life.
Until we effectively deal with the wound stories embedded in our subconscious, there is very often a fundamental disconnect between our cognitive and subconscious perceptions of ourselves, resulting in our not being able to be present or at one with ourselves. In many dysfunctional families, there is no acknowledgment or discussion about such family issues, so the child is induced to not trust his/her perception of reality. As a result of these and other inner wounds, such children often wind up with a fragmented self that encumbers their perception of and interaction with the world. Healing their inner wounds is critical to being able to foster a unified sense of self.
The purpose of my Self Worth workshops is to create a secure and sacred space in which each participant feels safe to talk about their deepest, darkest secrets; to lead them deep into their inner selves so that they can enter their subconscious and become present with themselves at the time when their inner wounds originated; and then to help them change their wound stories.
One of the critical elements of the Self Worth workshops is the creation of a space in which a person can say virtually anything that they are deeply ashamed of and have it received with love, understanding, and compassion. Many of us have something in our past or present that we are deeply ashamed of, about which we feel that if others ever knew this about us, we would be judged and rejected. One of the results of holding such beliefs is that we conclude within our subconscious that we are no good and that we must hide this from others. So, when we say these things in a group of peers and there is no negative reaction at all — but only a palpable love felt by all — this in itself is profoundly healing.
One of my prime reasons for writing my book is to make clear the pervasive impact of inner wounds on all aspects of our lives: on how we perceive the world, what kind of relationships we have, the work we choose, whether we can love and trust, and whether we can give ourselves permission to thrive in life. I hope to help create a shift in our collective understanding about the importance, and the possibility, of healing our wounds, and about what we can aspire to in our lives.