Someone asked me on Facebook about the Tree of Life, a film by Terrence Malick: “How was the movie? Would you recommend it?”  If anything illuminates our mood, typological and cultural preferences along with systems of meaning making, it would be Tree of Life.  So my response reflects a personal experience on a given day so it’s a straightforward…maybe:

Jennifer…it’s an unequivocal…”it depends.” It’s the one movie at which I almost fell asleep that I would also recommend highly to some people. I got sleepy as there is a dreamy sort of quality because it is more of a series of images as experienced through the lens of an adult male (Sean Penn). 

Whether or not you would like it? I don’t know. I’d have to ask you a few questions. I know people who did (or would) hate it. If your orientation is towards well-constructed narratives, it might make you crazy or confused. If you, like some people I am seeing on Integral forums, weary of nebulous Integral language and imagery, it might irritate you. 

It also depends on your own preferences.  For instance, you might find it self-indulgent on the part of Terrence Malick .

I also might ask you about your mood for the day…for me, it was just what I needed yesterday and as I said in my status, it elicited one of the most interesting, illuminating conversations I’ve had in a long time as I had a great day with my son afterwards as we walked while a storm rolled in…it was a perfect sort of mirror for the movie we had just seen and for our discussion.

For me, it will remain one of the more memorable movies I’ve ever seen. The first 30 minutes were absolutely visually beautiful (other people hated the first 30 minutes thinking what the hell was THAT?) as it was laying out the case that the life of a small town Texas family is not only embedded in the evolution of the cosmos but also a mirror for the very nature of the cosmos: replete with paradox and polarities, conflicted between nature and grace, imbued with creativity, stasis, cruelty, love.  

As the cosmos awakens to itself so we awaken to ourselves and the discoveries are painful: our caregivers and creators aren’t who they say they are…they’re flawed, they’re broken and whole …we love them and draw them near while pushing them away with a vengeance.

It’s also the Law of Three revealed elegantly. If the natural world is a template for human unfolding (since we are part of the whole) then this is what it looks and feels like.

Were there problems? Yes, I’d say so, but geez, the courage in creating a film that is not only an artistic masterpiece but also completely confusing and irritating to an awful lot of people is pretty remarkable. (I’m usually impressed by ballsy creativity). 

The mother was a too passive and perfect and ethereal for me, but that’s my own stuff (after all, isn’t a film a mirror of our own projections?) It could have used some editing (although in the post film discussion with a local critic, he thought it was edited flawlessly).

On another personal note, I felt the way I often do when watching Mad Men (and no, they’re nothing alike): the creators give a masterful felt sense of growing up in the repressed late 50s early 60s. It’s almost creepy…I could feel scenes inside of me complete with the emotions I felt as a kid and as a girl. I am both drawn in like a moth to flame and I want to close my eyes, cover my ears, yell at the screen and sometimes run away. 

The ending confused me although the conversation with the critic and then my son helped me understand we were witnessing a conscious return (to Love? grace? to Oneness?)

So, there you have it.  I say see it.  If nothing else, you may get a lovely nap and have some great dreams when you fall asleep at night. Or, you may be thinking about it and feeling it inside of you for days to come.

Last night, as I taught a class on the false self through an Enneagram lens, something struck me that never fails to give me a certain reverence for the Narrative Tradition: a human being can never be reduced to a type.  

The very essence of each person is distinct and the stories which shape their becoming are rooted in a vast array of personal and cultural experiences.  

If you walked into the room last night and talked to each of the three Sixes sitting on the couch, you might never guess they are the same type regardless of your proficiency with the Enneagram.  The energy and body language of each is so different.  

All three participated in a meditation in which they were invited into the questions:

Who are you in the eyes of your mother?
…your father?
…your society?
…your best friend?
…your beloved?

My guess is that in the debrief, they identified with different qualities because each family has its own identity.

When I arrived home, the gift of the Narrative revealed itself once again.

I picked up a Rick Steves guidebook on Ireland and began to step into the culture of the ancestors who have shaped my family’s worldview.  

As I read, I had to set the book down as I inhaled deeply and thought, “This is remarkable. The Irish are in the fabric of me.”  I read Steves’ reflections on Ireland:

▪ Ask for directions.  It’s always a rich experience.

▪ An Irishman once joked, “How can I know what I think until I hear what I say?” 

▪ The Irish seem born with a love of music.  At social gatherings, everyone’s ready to sing his or her “party piece.” 

▪ Irish immigrants brought with them to the US the first political organization for the downtrodden.

▪ The Irish people have a worldwide reputation as talkative, athletic (missed that one), musical, moody romantics with a quick laugh and ready smile. 

▪ While much of Europe has buried older cultures under new, Ireland still reveals its cultural bedrock

GK Chesterton wrote:

The great Gaels of Ireland
The lord hath made them mad
For all their wars are merry
And all their songs are sad. 

An exasperated Freud said, “The Irish are the only race whose insanities can not be cured by psychoanalysis.” 

Music. Humor. Gab. Darkness. Madness. Downtrodden. Unhibited sincerity. Showmanship. Moody.  

The Irish are in me even as I experience my Irishness through my distinctive type lens.

Layers upon layers build our identity.  Our Irish-ness, German-ness, British-ness, American-ness, Salvadoran-ness,  Korean-ness, Indian-ness, Jewish-ness, Catholic-ness, Buddhist-ness, Protestant-ness… the groups who’ve shaped us whether we live in opposition to them or in synch with them.  

The psychologist helps us track our stories so we can identify and dis-identify with the pieces that conditioned us.  

The spiritual director helps us let them go and relax into unconditioned divine Love.

Each has its inherent value.  

I’m not of the mind that spiritual practice is an ascetic, dry ascent to the evolutionary pinnacle of an elusive enlightenment.  

Rather, it is a descent:  an on the ground, nuts and bolts sacramental presence to each moment of our lives which invite us to open our arms in radical surrender to the qualities that open us and inhibit us from Love made manifest.  

The question is: When is our identity…our own personal narrative…serving Life and inhibiting Life? 

Yet, I also hale from a tradition that places the final answer in the unknowable…in something we call grace. The X factor in which we know absolutely Nothing.   We’ve a wordless sort of wonder for the ultimate Reality and an awareness that we are participating in a flow in which we are but a speck in a moment in time….all we need do is listen.  

“Listen to your life. See it for the fathomless mystery it is. In the boredom and pain of it, no less than in the excitement and gladness: touch, taste, smell your way to the holy and hidden heart of it, because in the last analysis all moments are key moments, and life itself is grace.”   FREDERICK BUECHNER

Recently, in my role as Social Media Coordinator for Enneagram Studies in the Narrative Tradition, I wrote an article in response to a question a Facebook fan had about Enneagram type 8s. He asked for insights and strategies which might be helpful to 8s.  I thought I’d share:

When dealing with 8s, it’s helpful to recognize the defense structure that holds this type together: denial.  8s often tell us they are taken by surprise when their bodies break down in some way or when they realize the subtle ways their vulnerability is hidden.  

We know 8s who may even know the Enneagram well and clearly see the blindspots and reactive behavior of other types, but simply cannot see the proverbial plank in their eye.  Denial is a powerful defense protecting an idealized self (“I am strong.”) 

One of my colleagues, Peter O’Hanrahan is an 8, and he describes it like this:

“Denial closes down my view…I no longer see thing. I literally insulate myself from my own internal feeling. So it narrows down my attention and I literally don’t see things…feelings and thoughts have become dense.  I can’t even see that there could be a better approach or  I could go in a different direction.  The more emotionally charged, the issue, the less I can take in what is being said. I literally don’t retain the information.”  It is a stance of what Peter calls “principled inattention.”  

When living with and loving an 8, this inattention can be extraordinarily frustrating.  Yet, do know this: 8s do not remember data when caught in the grip of denial.  They can retell a story differently than what may have been experienced by others and it feels real and true.  I remember hearing a rather aware 8 share a story of an event we both attended in which she offered a version of the events with characters who were not in attendance. As she shared, the story was congruent with a deeply held worldview; she did not experience it as a “lie.” Rather, it was an example of “principled inattention.”  Compassionate understanding goes a long way when in relationship with an 8 (or any type for that matter).  Humor never hurts either. 

So, if you are an 8, what might be some strategies in dealing with the denial when caught in the grip of something you can’t see?

1. The body is a great barometer of what is going on. When “triggered” in some way, the 8 tends to “power up” bodily energy when feeling any vulnerability.  So, it’s helpful to pause.  Slow.  Notice your stance.  Feel the “powering up breath.”  How does it show up in your body?
2. If you are feeling defensive and you are resisting feedback from another, breathe in.  You may want to soften your stance (which is often rooted in the core idealization “I’m strong) and relax into the place in your body where you can feel yourself armoring.  Imagine breathing into your heart.  If feelings come up and you begin to notice anxiety, stay with the anxiety.  Welcome it.   As you feel the softening…the feelings…you may begin to notice a more expanded view of things.  The data becomes more clear, less distorted.   Sometimes, it’s helpful to acknowledge the other and even repeat back what was shared with you.  This helps you clarify the feedback of the other and it helps another feel as if she has been heard.
3. When softer feelings do come up, notice them and allow them. Recognize that as you slowly allow them, the anxiety begins to dissipate for their is no longer a well of dammed up emotion.   There is not only an integrity in recognizing you can live more fully when you span the spectrum of strength and vulnerability, but there is also a lot more energy for creative channeling of your passion for you are not bound by the need to be right, tough and strong.
4.  Notice your tendency towards black and white thinking.  Notice assumptions, snap judgments and prejudices which prevent your access to the truth you so deeply value.  Philosopher Ken Wilber writes that each perspective is “true, but partial.”  How might each perspective have its own truth?  
5.  Finally, inside of 8s, there is a soft, vulnerable child who feels unprotected in a hostile world.  All that strength has its natural opposite:  a tender heart.  Allow for relationships which allow you to open to this tenderness.  Be mindful of your tendency to take on too much responsibility for another or the tendency to feel excessively guilty for time when your “bigness” got in the way of deeper connection.  Self compassion goes a long way. 

You may start to pay attention to the inner and outer cues which let you know you are being triggered. These cues might include:

Inner cues: “powering up” breath, hardening of jaw, heart, arms and legs, vengeful thoughts, prejudgments, denial of feelings (I’m fine…it’s him/her, not me), defensiveness, planning for an “attack,” anxiety…you may also notice how you project your own tendency to control on others and assume others are trying to control you. 

Outer cues: over asserting  or excessively withdrawing (the key word is “excessive”), aggressive or overly directive talk style, gulping food, drink, material possessions (expression of lust), taking quick action (often with excessive energy), talking over another person or being combative and quick to anger

If you don’t know your type and would like to register online for a typing interview over Skype, click here.

Join me on Facebook.

Recently, in my role as Social Media Coordinator for Enneagram Studies in the Narrative Tradition, I wrote an article in response to a question a Facebook fan had about Enneagram type 8s. He asked for insights and strategies which might be helpful to 8s.  I thought I’d share:

When dealing with 8s, it’s helpful to recognize the defense structure that holds this type together: denial.  8s often tell us they are taken by surprise when their bodies break down in some way or when they realize the subtle ways their vulnerability is hidden.  

We know 8s who may even know the Enneagram well and clearly see the blindspots and reactive behavior of other types, but simply cannot see the proverbial plank in their eye.  Denial is a powerful defense protecting an idealized self (“I am strong.”) 

One of my colleagues, Peter O’Hanrahan is an 8, and he describes it like this:

“Denial closes down my view…I no longer see thing. I literally insulate myself from my own internal feeling. So it narrows down my attention and I literally don’t see things…feelings and thoughts have become dense.  I can’t even see that there could be a better approach or  I could go in a different direction.  The more emotionally charged, the issue, the less I can take in what is being said. I literally don’t retain the information.”  It is a stance of what Peter calls “principled inattention.”  

When living with and loving an 8, this inattention can be extraordinarily frustrating.  Yet, do know this: 8s do not remember data when caught in the grip of denial.  They can retell a story differently than what may have been experienced by others and it feels real and true.  I remember hearing a rather aware 8 share a story of an event we both attended in which she offered a version of the events with characters who were not in attendance. As she shared, the story was congruent with a deeply held worldview; she did not experience it as a “lie.” Rather, it was an example of “principled inattention.”  Compassionate understanding goes a long way when in relationship with an 8 (or any type for that matter).  Humor never hurts either. 

So, if you are an 8, what might be some strategies in dealing with the denial when caught in the grip of something you can’t see?

1. The body is a great barometer of what is going on. When “triggered” in some way, the 8 tends to “power up” bodily energy when feeling any vulnerability.  So, it’s helpful to pause.  Slow.  Notice your stance.  Feel the “powering up breath.”  How does it show up in your body?
2. If you are feeling defensive and you are resisting feedback from another, breathe in.  You may want to soften your stance (which is often rooted in the core idealization “I’m strong) and relax into the place in your body where you can feel yourself armoring.  Imagine breathing into your heart.  If feelings come up and you begin to notice anxiety, stay with the anxiety.  Welcome it.   As you feel the softening…the feelings…you may begin to notice a more expanded view of things.  The data becomes more clear, less distorted.   Sometimes, it’s helpful to acknowledge the other and even repeat back what was shared with you.  This helps you clarify the feedback of the other and it helps another feel as if she has been heard.
3. When softer feelings do come up, notice them and allow them. Recognize that as you slowly allow them, the anxiety begins to dissipate for their is no longer a well of dammed up emotion.   There is not only an integrity in recognizing you can live more fully when you span the spectrum of strength and vulnerability, but there is also a lot more energy for creative channeling of your passion for you are not bound by the need to be right, tough and strong.
4.  Notice your tendency towards black and white thinking.  Notice assumptions, snap judgments and prejudices which prevent your access to the truth you so deeply value.  Philosopher Ken Wilber writes that each perspective is “true, but partial.”  How might each perspective have its own truth?  
5.  Finally, inside of 8s, there is a soft, vulnerable child who feels unprotected in a hostile world.  All that strength has its natural opposite:  a tender heart.  Allow for relationships which allow you to open to this tenderness.  Be mindful of your tendency to take on too much responsibility for another or the tendency to feel excessively guilty for time when your “bigness” got in the way of deeper connection.  Self compassion goes a long way. 

You may start to pay attention to the inner and outer cues which let you know you are being triggered. These cues might include:

Inner cues: “powering up” breath, hardening of jaw, heart, arms and legs, vengeful thoughts, prejudgments, denial of feelings (I’m fine…it’s him/her, not me), defensiveness, planning for an “attack,” anxiety…you may also notice how you project your own tendency to control on others and assume others are trying to control you. 

Outer cues: over asserting  or excessively withdrawing (the key word is “excessive”), aggressive or overly directive talk style, gulping food, drink, material possessions (expression of lust), taking quick action (often with excessive energy), talking over another person or being combative and quick to anger

If you don’t know your type and would like to register online for a typing interview over Skype, click here.

Join me on Facebook.

You will notice each type has a primary strategy when triggered in some way.

• The head center will try to figure things out and assess whether they and others can be trusted through their faculties of mental perception (a fearful response rooted in search for safety and security);
• The heart center will try to make a connection through the faculties of emotional intelligence (a deceptive response rooted in search for affection and esteem…the deception is the “shape shift” to create an image which facilitates connection)
• The belly center will try to get a sense of whether to go along or oppose through the faculties of instinct (an angry response rooted in a search for power and control over self or any other person or situation)
  

Thanks to Carol Whittaker for this diagram.  

I’ve been appreciating Liz Wagele’s view on careers and the Enneagram.  This piece on Ones was helpful in giving me a glimpse into the worldview of my mother.  While she did not work, she had a specific vision for her children and husband…I found it both useful and limiting even before I knew the Enneagram.  

She writes:

Perfectionists want to carry out their ideals, which can come in many forms. Some are interested in making details perfect. Others care about being organized or organizing their work environment. Still others want to make reforms and make the world a better place.

My mother is a self-preservation One, so her ideals were focused on the capacity to support one’s family, organizing the home and workspace, and finding work that also allowed one to have time for close relationships.  Success was valued, but workaholism was frowned upon.   It’s helpful to map the unique way type shows up in each person so that we don’t reduce ourselves to one simplistic caricature.