I not only see myself on the spectrum, I also work with those on the spectrum. I know what it is like to be treated as if you are stupid or boring because you cannot think of something connected or refreshing to say and your facial affect is not soothing to those in front of you. I have experienced isolation and the grief of living in a world that values the kinds of abilities I can only muster for so long until I need to go hide. I know what it’s like to disappoint people who see the brilliance in me only to find that it is not supported by a constant, robust outer self.
I also know what it was to find the Polyvagal Theory and what it meant to me to be able to explain all this at scientific level and how it has allowed me to better care for myself and now to care for other people. I have watched so many people experience a life change, families and participants, just by appreciating this knowledge, and I know what it affords a 13-year-old young woman or a 20-year-old young man to know that it is their physical system, then executive system that drops out and that it is not about their innate intelligence.
These people are more than bright. When they feel safe and well met, they are stunning in all sorts of ways and mostly because they exist in a realm of deep empathy and compassion. They see through eyes that have not been as inculcated with an egoic state, they see far and wide. Yes, they do have trouble with working memory, it goes offline with your executive functioning under duress. Yes they do have trouble holding their temper and self-regulating to a greater or lesser degree, but what I am finding – through a simple loyalty to the basic truth of the Polyvagal Theory – is that if you can find a way to teach the physical system how to know more than just the deep state; you change the game.
You can’t do this from a top down oriented therapy. We are teaching the system something new, something it hasn’t known before. It’s not an intellectual exercise to bring the body to a new stasis. The usual mental strategies and breathing techniques have only a little value here. They work on the assumption that the body pre-appreciates this state and can move toward it. You can’t imagine yourself into if you’ve never been there. It’s not possible for a system that hasn’t felt this before to know where it’s going. You have to teach it that it’s true, experientially.
You can’t do this work if you think the ventral states are the best and you are working from an assumption that you are trying to get people back up to scratch. You can’t do it with a vagus nerve ‘hack’ mindset and a wish for a toolbox of tricks to apply on your client to get them into ship shape! You can’t do it if you do not genuinely think there is nothing to fix. These are all orientations I see from teachers and therapists I see in my workshops and I have to gently, slowly show them something they don’t know. That we are working with deep space. That we are working with a timeless, vast intelligence alongside a very narrow capacity to know and regulate a very trigger-happy flight/fight system – that won’t relax or be compliant just because you want it to, but will the minute we get it right. Always we are working in a glorious mass of contradictions. We are steeped in chaos theory, but underpinned by a very basic and sound appreciation of the polyvagal theory. We hold onto that and let all the rest go.
To dive into the deep, to let someone in to your private, sacred space you have to feel safe, you have to give permission. We know this with typical clients but it is amazing how this gets lost when we are working with people with a different operating system. We can help people to feel safe by sharing the ideas of the Polyvagal Theory in ways that are individually meaningful. If students (clients) get a straight-forward, age-appropriate, intellectual choice to participate rather than a pretty coercion by using the social-engagement skills of the therapist to get them to relax and comply, then they can be truly present to the process. If we are always transparent; always clear on our intentions and we show that the client always has final say over what happens in the session, we get farther quicker. If we give room for them to have disdain for the process; to think what they want and to be open to the possibility that they might learn something new if they engage; if we teach them we are willing to be patient and creative to allow this to happen; if they have a right to say no -then we have set up some of the conditions necessary to play in the deep end.
It is all highly creative; it is all highly individual. It rests on a fluidity, an ability to work without a script, an ability to trust in a process that might make no sense and might not even work. It relies on the therapist not being in command, but a Sherpa, a guide. One with knowledge but not all the knowledge, because the one you are with might know/do/think/be, more that you can ever imagine. If they are given some space inside to breathe and some consideration for their considerable intelligence great things can happen.
What happens, when we get it right, is that the student sees more, feels more. The mind starts to clear, they start to have an experience of themselves from a new perspective. Instead of intellectually trying to develop a new vision of self for our client, one that they can cling to, to pull themselves out of the mud; instead we alleviate the body and see a new protagonist emerge. Usually this new person is like Excalibur! Drawing the sword deep from bound stone, we see emerge a new energy, a new potency that enhances the figure, our student, who knew but didn’t know his destiny, who knew but couldn’t find the power to drive her life. We open the possibility for power to emerge, long locked inside a highly immobilised or highly driven yet switched off system. We find the key.
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