We mobilize our will in the attempt to surmount the inner obstacles that block us from the fulfillment of our dream. We say, “Where there is a will, there is a way.” With enough willpower one can almost do the impossible. The will is potent in doing or performing, but it is impotent in changing the inner state of our being. Our feelings are not subject to our will. We can't change them by conscious action, but we can suppress them. However, suppressing a feeling doesn't make it go away; it only pushes it deeper into the unconscious. By this action we internalize the problem. It then becomes necessary to have therapy to bring the conflict back to consciousness so that it can be worked out in a nonneurotic way. In the case of the patient described above, this meant becoming aware that he was afraid to say to his father, “I don't want to compete. I don't want to be what you want.” Having suppressed his rebellion, he has nothing to say.
My thesis is that one can't overcome a problem that is part of one's personality. The key word in the statement is overcome. The attempt to do that turns one part of the self against the other; the ego, through the will, is set against the body and its feelings. Instead of harmony between these two antithetical aspects of human nature, a conflict is created that must ultimately destroy the person. This is what all neurotics do, locking themselves into the fate they are trying to avoid. The alternative, and the healthy way, is through understanding, which leads to self-acceptance, self-expression, and self-possession.
There are, then, two ways in which we program our fate. First, by our attitude and behavior, that is, by our character, we invite certain responses from others. If, out of fear of rejection, we are aloof and withdrawn, we should not be surprised if people keep their distance. Or if we are paranoid, our distrust will antagonize people, and we will experience their hostility. The second way is by perpetrating within ourselves the fate we fear. We create our own inner emptiness by suppressing our feeling; we trap ourselves with tensions that develop as a resistance to yielding out of fear of being trapped. But these two ways are not unrelated. The person who feels empty within himself lives a life that is empty of meaning in terms of relationships and involvement. The person who feels trapped in himself does get trapped by life situations. The outer situation has to match the inner condition. A square peg doesn't fit in a round hole. Generally speaking, each person finds his appropriate niche in the world. Of course, it is also true, though it may seem like a contradiction, that the outer situation produces the inner situation. Through its influence upon the family, culture molds the character of children. If we live in an alienated world, we become alienated from our bodies and ourselves.
An understanding of the correspondence between the inner condition and the outer situation is essential to an understanding of human nature and fate. People are extremely uncomfortable when they find themselves in situations other than those they are accustomed to. Place a beggar in a fine home and he will plead to be allowed to go back to the streets. Dress a bum in gentleman's clothes and he will not know how to move. The reverse is equally true. We are creatures of habit; our bodies and our behavior become structured by situations, making it very difficult for us to adapt to different ones. Regardless of how we are born, it is how we are raised that determines our fate and our destiny. For example, children who grow up with TV can't live without it because they have become habituated to its kind of stimulation.
Changing the neurotic character is the essential therapeutic task and the most difficult. The case of Sam is a good example. He was a young man, near thirty, whose marriage had just broken up, and he was somewhat depressed. The divorce was mutually desired. Sam felt that his wife was too dependent; she complained, he told me, about his aloofness and unwillingness to share his feelings with her. Sam admitted that he had difficulty in showing or expressing feeling. In other areas of his life he was quite successful.
Characterologically, Sam could be described as having a rigid structure. His body, though well shaped, was tight. His neck was relatively inflexible, his legs were stiff. Despite these handicaps he had good coordination and was competent in many sports. His rigidity represented a need to hold up against collapse, helplessness, and dependency. In his marriage he took the role of the strong one and unconsciously invited his wife to lean on him. At the same time he resented her dependency. He had to be in control of all situations as he was in control of himself, yet he knew that this attitude was self-defeating. Sam needed to learn how to let go and come out with his feelings.
Sam approached this problem of letting go as he approached any other task. He figured it out, then tried to do what was called for. It didn't work. That's not the way to let go. The more he tried to figure it out in his head, the tighter his body became. Even the work on his body to reduce its tension suffered from the same dilemma. He did the bioenergetic exercises as if he was trying to master a skill. The result was that he had very little feeling, though some vibrations did develop in his legs. Sam was characterologically geared for achievement, but letting go is not something one can achieve. Before any genuine feeling would emerge, Sam had to let go of his need to achieve or to be strong.
I have chosen this case to show the difficulty of the therapeutic task. The patient acts unconsciously to defeat the therapeutic undertaking. We call it resistance, but it is, in effect, nothing other than his character structure.
Here is another short example. A woman suffered from severe anxiety, which she sought to allay by finding a man who would protect and take care of her. To gain this end she was sexually seductive, and, since she was an attractive woman, she became involved with many men. All her relationships ended with her feeling betrayed and used. Her anxiety continued to mount. I might add that a previous therapeutic relationship ended with the therapist becoming sexually involved with her.
Mary's father died when she was seven. He had been her support. In all her subsequent relationships she was looking for another father. Since a therapist tries to provide some support for his disturbed patients, it is easy to see a male therapist as a father surrogate. Once Mary made the transference, she became emotionally involved with her therapist. She felt she needed him and was afraid he would die, leave, or not be there for her. Her major effort was directed to assuring his interest in her. Thus, she would be seductive one time, then testing the therapist another time. Needless to say, her maneuvers only increased her anxiety. Her very effort to gain security undermined her security.
Problems of this nature cannot be resolved until their connection with the oedipal situation is traced out and worked through. Sam's need to achieve and to be strong stemmed from his sense of inferiority vis-a-vis his father in that situation and his determination to prove be was a man. But the need to prove one's manhood reinforces the inner feeling of inadequacy and traps the person. Mary was trying to find a father who would accept her sexual feelings. She wanted to be a child and a woman at the same time, which made a real relationship with a man almost impossible.
Struggling against fate only enmeshes one more deeply in its coils. Like an animal caught in a net, the more one struggles, the more tightly bound one becomes. Does this mean we are doomed? We are doomed only when we struggle against ourselves. The main thrust of therapy is to help a person stop struggling against himself. That struggle is self-destructive, and it will exhaust a person's energy and accomplish nothing. Many people want to change. Change is possible, but it must start with self-acceptance. Change is a part of the natural order. Life is not static; it is constantly growing or declining. One doesn't have to do anything to grow. Growth happens naturally and spontaneously when energy is available. But when we use our energies in a struggle against our character (fate), we leave no energy for growth or the natural healing process. I have always found that as soon as a patient accepts himself, there is a significant change in his feelings, his behavior, and his personality.
Natural healing is inherent in the structure and function of the living organism. A cut finger will heal, a broken bone will mend, and an infection will clear up spontaneously. A body is not like a bubble, which once it bursts cannot be put together again. Within limits, the body's fate is to restore its integrity and to maintain its process against traumas and injuries from the environment. This should be equally true of the emotional traumas and injuries we receive as children. Why doesn't neurosis heal spontaneously
