The zen of EMDR: where AIP meets body, mind and spirit 

Just this moment, just this breath, just this sitting here, just this being human. Just this. Just this (Jon Kabat-Zinn)

EMDR as enlightening the self 

Vironika Tugalevam, author and poet, writes: ‘Emotional pain cannot kill you but running from it can…allow, embrace, let yourself feel, let yourself heal’. Like life itself, the EMDR journey has a certain, continuous flow, ever changing, moving from mundane to tragic and everything in between. Sometimes, people present with a clear internal map and the path that needs to be taken is already paved. Often, especially with complex trauma histories, there is no clearly defined path but a blurry, existential angst throbbing inside a fragmented system, one which requires a slower pace. Either way, much of EMDR might be thought of as a process of enlightenment of the self, as clients identify points of blockage and dissolve protective control strategies that no longer serve them well. Many, especially those with complex trauma histories, seek EMDR after years of distracting themselves from feeling vulnerable. This, by the way, is not a difficult task in a fast-paced, hi-tech world where cell phones (or perhaps more accurately, ‘self-phones’) separate rather than reunite, fuelling an already pervasive sense of isolation for many, in what is arguably a dissociative culture that encourages and enables disconnection (within the illusion of connection). 

No research studies are needed to observe that, as a society, we are constantly looking down rather than at, turning our attention away from, rather than towards, looking outside of ourselves rather than inwards, and basing our self-worth on our doing-self rather than our being-self. Therefore, it’s no surprise that so many clients fear not being able to tolerate the pain that inevitably emerges in EMDR, when we are not only hardwired to avoid pain but we live in a culture that encourages that avoidance in countless ways. Indeed, the whole notion of developing and using internal resources can seem daunting or even unfamiliar. Part of how we normalize pain is to help people understand that their suffering is not their fault, that their nervous systems have responded accordingly, and to instill hope by reminding them that, wherever there is disconnection, there is always the potential for reconnection. Entrenched in the fear many people have as to whether they can tolerate painful emotions in EMDR (and in psychotherapy, in general), is a fear they will drown in a swamp of shame, anger or grief; binding their negative beliefs as they begin to hate themselves not only for how they’re managing their symptoms but for even having those symptoms. This is what Buddhism refers to as the ‘second arrow’ … adding suffering to what is already causing pain, or in psychology is referred to as a ‘second emotional response’. The antidote to that is self-compassion. While some people may enter our offices with some capacity for self-compassion, many will not, so it will need to be taught and modelled repeatedly as its own powerful resource, and practiced outside of sessions, until they can invite it into their lives. 

Even with self-compassion present, however, there is no inner manipulation magically turning off painful emotions or thoughts in EMDR or in any form of psychotherapy. There is no artificial suppression of the turbulent waves that create tension in people’s lives. Quite the contrary: EMDR invites the waves and aims to help calm them enough so that they can be cradled by a larger ocean. We help people receive the gift of pausing just long enough to notice that not only can the waves not crush them but they can be transformed into rhythmic ripples, moving within them. Swami Satchitananda, an Indian yoga guru who brought the practice of yoga to the West, said You cannot stop the waves, but you can learn to surf’. So as people weave in and out of left and right brain processing, together with us as humble guides and empathic co-regulators, and gradually becoming aware of their surfboards, self-compassion has the potential to be birthed. 

Self-compassion 

Healing and entering our fullest selves requires self-compassion. In some ways, it serves as the blueprint to presence and awareness, and this is no easy feat for people who have been gripped in the throes of a negative thinking bias or for those whose systems are in chronic hyper- or hypo-arousal. Some people will enter our offices already possessing some level of self-compassion whereas others will have no idea what that feels like or even means. One way to understand compassion is that it is an extension of empathy, of being able to feel not for another but with another, of perspective taking, and with the added layer of deep care and concern. It is the antidote to many areas of suffering including the wishes to be more deeply seen and loved, to belong, feel appreciated, included, respected and connected. When we can help people view suffering as inevitable to the human experience, we remove some of the isolation around it and they begin to feel less alone and more open to the idea of self-compassion. False narratives entrenched in blame, shame, guilt, and people whose sense of selves have marinated in these narratives for decades, means that the process of cultivating compassion will need to be tenderly paced. Self-compassion need not be a prerequisite to successful EMDR but can develop alongside it, with the first steps being the acknowledgment a struggle exists, accepting the struggle and then helping people treat themselves with the same kindness as they would treat others. 

Noticing 

Clients seeking help are doing so because they have fallen; usual strategies to avoid pain are no longer effective and sometimes their wounds are open and bleeding. Like other modalities, EMDR helps people to blossom into the fullness of who they are, to develop a robust capacity to live within a state of awareness, by dissolving unwanted memories within the body and mind, connecting to a more adaptive way of being in the world, freeing up space to actualize potential and express the truest areas of the self. But, to do that, a crucial step is simply (or not so simply) to notice. As therapists we often adjust how we introduce ‘noticing’ because we cannot change the nervous system in a first (or second or third or …) session. Moreover, the act of noticing is in direct contradiction to how so many clients have spent their lives up until that point, for good reason. For clients with (and even without) a trauma history, whose nervous systems have been pervasively stuck in defence and survival, even basic suggestions of noticing or being kind to oneself can feel terribly unsafe, and perhaps catastrophic when the mind and body are unaccustomed to slowing down, and baseline levels are those connected to survival strategies. 

Additionally, the concept itself can be confusing; sitting with a noticing presence can be terrifying for clients to consider, and many won’t even understand what we are asking them to do. Even when there is a clear or relatively clear understanding, when an internal war is waging, and has been for months or years, asking people to notice what they are feeling in their bodies, or to create images that bring them a sense of peace or serenity, is not always going to work and may, in fact, backfire. Moreover, some clients will feel additional social and performance anxiety over trying to please the therapist, and may generate a response that is totally inauthentic, both to please the therapist as well as feel they aren’t ‘failing’ at what is being asked, perpetuating a cycle of inauthenticity and avoidance. With clients who have more severe attachment ruptures, fragmented self-states may be in conflict, and an entire internal battle may erupt without the therapist even being aware. This is where creativity, flexibility, attunement and understanding that a linear process of asking our clients to notice in the early stages of a process, or access any creativity whatsoever, may simply not work. Despite that, it is usually very empowering for clients to learn that they can indeed notice their body, notice their thoughts, words, sensations, and that they can even imagine a moment of nurturing, and nothing bad happens. The more gently and respectfully we help cultivate noticing, the more we help clients create disconfirming experiences around the expectation that noticing means worsening. 

Presence 

EMDR pulls for radical honesty, for people to begin to identify, very specifically, the unseen, unfelt parts of their lives that have resulted in suffering. Since trauma can partially be defined as a disconnect from the self, an absence of meaning, usually people have, to some extent, pulled away from their real self. There’s a discomfort in the undercurrent of fear and deficiency we all experience when we are not being honest. At the heart of presence, is relinquishing control or the desire to achieve, and instead just observing, slowing down, exploring and discovering. Through constructed beliefs about their lives, people begin to share general information and stories. As they are talking, fostering presence can begin to unfold by gently pausing and directing people towards inner experience throughout the telling, at strategic times that we determine are appropriate and not disruptive. 

By asking questions or offering comments that source for presence, people begin a process of ‘noticing’ long before the more intense phases begin, which will serve them well in terms of tolerating later painful material. Presence is cultivated each time we ask people to look around the room, find something they particularly enjoy looking at or that catches their attention – a favourite colour, a picture on the wall. We want people to wake up to something bigger than their pain or emotional reactivity, to come home to something larger. Small, brief, sensory exercises are often a good and tolerable place for people to start feeling what it means to be present and not enslaved to thoughts or emotions. Sometimes people get lost in an endless thought stream or begin emotionally checking out as they respond to questions that pull for presence. That is OK, normal and, in some cases, expected, and there are numerous ways therapists can reorient people back to present awareness, while still respecting the need to temporarily shut down. 

For some people, maintaining a light degree of dissociation throughout EMDR processing is helpful and necessary. The simplest way to circle back to presence is to just invite noticing; to sit with the feelings in the body, if those feeling and sensations can be noticed, or notice the sound of the therapist’s voice, for the therapist to use the client’s name, to notice the ways in which posture or other body positions have shifted or the way the sun is shining through a window. Other times, just noticing the attempt to notice, is perfect. As therapists practicing EMDR fostering a sense of here and now, we are looking to disconfirm information around the expectations people have so that we can capitalise on new learning to lower their baseline. Once people can begin to engage in present awareness, they suddenly have an opportunity to position themselves differently in relationship to their painful life experiences. As we anchor our own sense of presence and awareness within, we ask our EMDR clients to notice thoughts and emotions and notice how they feel about them, and we ask them to be aware of themselves as fully as they can, in a sacred space of just being with, of letting whatever emerge, emerge. 

Therefore, at its core, one might say that EMDR is, in fact, a profoundly body-based, integrative healing modality of practicing presence. While people dive into the past and sit with the immediacy of feelings in the present, they yield to the vulnerability of whatever emerges, to dissolve as much agitation of thought as possible, decreasing or eradicating unwanted and unpleasant sensations in the body, tolerating the discomfort of it all, all while anchored in the present moment. We ask people to trust their inner wisdom, while we lovingly partner with them, stepping in when needed to help navigate jagged or unexpected terrain. Throughout the most intense moments of processing, we help facilitate a space for them to meet that processing with compassion if they can, rather than self-deprecation, judgement, avoidance or dismissiveness. This is presence. Noticing the noticing. Intentionally. EMDR as a process of enlightenment of the self, is so much about nourishing and integrating the three components of: self-compassion, presence and noticing, so that we can be in healthy relationship with our histories and experiences and be of service to them, instead of the other way around. Regardless of the stories people carry, and levels of distress they bring, we strive for EMDR to be a process which is deeply liberating for all, where people begin to cease living in the shadows of unwanted experience, of emotional reactivity and of believing every thought as truth. We hope to facilitate dual attention in the sense of not only remaining within a tolerable emotional state but also teaching people to observe their struggles alongside kindness and courage, to not judge their judgement but to approach emerging activation with curiosity and love. When that self-compassion begins to unfold, it naturally frees up space for a truer, more authentic self to be unleashed. This allows clients to step out of judgment of themselves or other constricting emotions and, instead, infuse their lives with tenderness. In EMDR work, it is this compassionate pausing, this presence, this noticing, this let whatever comes, come, that cultivates an exquisite awareness in and out of the room and allows clients to eventually be welcomed home by a far more expansive, content, wiser and enlightened self. 

Final thoughts 

 The Indian philosopher, Krishna Merti, said his secret in awakening his heart was this: ‘I don’t mind what happens’. In a sense, we are asking our EMDR clients to do the same, with our help as humble guides, of course. To not mind, meaning to not fight so hard with the activating material that arises from within but instead to welcome it and, when possible, to suspend judgement and meet it (or even better, bombard it) with self-compassion. Rather than the arch of our client’s lives being hijacked by limbic dominance, we gently and tenderly encourage a shedding, a softening, surrendering and acceptance of limitations so they can retrain their brains, opening them up for creativity and flexibility. 

Surrender is not to be confused with resignation. The former is a letting go of, while resignation implies lack of agency and defeat. We want to help our clients embody an attitude of ‘I don’t mind what happens’ in the hope that they will derive empowerment and strength from it and begin to tolerate ambiguity, respond and not react to highly charged emotions, depolarise old patterns of thinking, connect to what is meaningful and unplug from what is not; to be open to the previously unknown cognitive, somatic, emotional and spiritual landscapes within themselves. When we help clients pause and sit with the agonizing memories and emotional reactivity that imprison them and then intentionally provoke activation, we create fertile ground that births awareness, presence and a real opportunity to hold that activation with curiosity and adjust the volume to tolerable levels. It doesn’t mean that difficult emotions will be eradicated but that the strong identification with them will be. We invite clients to experiment with the phrase ‘I don’t mind what happens’ based on the premise that whatever does happen (both in and eventually outside of session) ‘it will be OK. I will be OK. I’ve got this’. Clients with a more layered and difficult history around interpersonal wounds will move through this (understandably) with more anxiety to experiencing the pain, but fighting reality will never bring transformation or freedom. Fighting it with self-compassion, however, will. EMDR asks all of us to face losses in whatever doses we can. Doing so in the context of a safe and loving therapeutic environment evolves us as human beings, reminding us of our interdependence, that we don’t have to be alone, that we can become more aware, more present and happier, breaking the patterning in our nervous system that keeps us fixated on the negativity. 

Notice that. 

Rachel is a Clinical Psychologist in private practice in Jerusalem, Israel, where she treats, teaches, and supervises. She is the author of 3 psychology books, and several upcoming publications. Rachel is the creative lyricist behind the witty EMDR album “Sudrise, Sudset” that continues to elicit giggles around the world. In her less silly mode, Rachel leads AIP-In-Action, a global research Initiative in collaboration with Mercaz Omakim. Rachel is also the Clinical Director of the EMDR 2.0 Intensive Treatment program under Omakim. When she’s not parenting her five kids, Rachel can usually be found daydreaming about opening a bakery.

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