Suggesting Mindfulness - Page 2

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PNSO11-2Awakening the hypnotist within

By Michael Yapko

As a clinical intervention, mindfulness is best understood by stripping away its aura of mystical spirituality and understanding the crucial role suggestion plays in the change process.

The Power of Suggestion

Nevertheless, the very idea that GMM, just like hypnosis, incorporates active, directed suggestion to a client by the therapist strikes many mindfulness practitioners as tantamount to heresy, a betrayal of the “purity” of the practice itself. Mindfulness is typically introduced in the context of a therapeutic relationship by a clinician convinced of its merits, who directly says to the distressed client that “this will help,” and then begins the experience by conducting a guided mindfulness meditation. The GMM attempts to engage the client’s attention and help him or her focus on certain suggested experiences, whether they involve breathing, scanning the body, meditating on acceptance, awakening to the truth, or cultivating compassion. Finally, the point is made, either implicitly or explicitly, that this experience will have some lasting impact on the client’s well-being and that repeated practice will facilitate the desired effects. Is there any part of this process that does not rely on the use of suggestion to attain therapeutic results?

To acknowledge the inevitable role of suggestion in mindfulness is to acknowledge the principles and methods of clinical hypnosis. Hypnosis encompasses the study of how to compose and deliver suggestions that engage the client’s attention, foster a deep experiential absorption, and “spontaneously” elicit different kinds of empowering subjective experiences, such as analgesia or anesthesia for pain management or increased bodily and sensory awareness. Hypnosis, like mindfulness, encourages awareness and acceptance, especially an awareness of the personal resources one can bring to bear on a situation. Virtually all of the modern neuroscience of clinical hypnosis, like that of mindfulness, focuses on attentional processes and directing focused attention in clinically useful ways. When a mindfulness practitioner talks about “attention without intention” and tells the client to “let go of goals” and “stop being a human doing and instead be a human being,” he or she is paradoxically suggesting a new goal of having no goals. Whatever the client’s experience from either GMM or hypnosis, the therapist’s actively directed suggestions lead the way. If mindfulness-oriented clinicians want to be effective in the work they do, it’s important that they strive to better understand how their methods—their suggestions—are structured and delivered, and discover what role the quality of their suggestions plays in the clinical results they obtain.

Clinicians also need to ask tougher questions. What, actually, are the differences, if any, between mindfulness and clinical hypnosis? We know that the neuroscience of mindfulness and hypnosis is parallel, causing changes in brain activation of the same magnitude. Both feature cortical inhibition as revealed by slowed EEG theta waves, and both show higher levels of activity in areas where theta is prominent, such as the frontal cortex and especially the anterior cingulated cortex. But it’s still too early to draw many conclusions about the meaning of such neural activities.

To highlight impressive brain changes presumably justifying mindfulness meditation, some neuroscientists identify a much-touted thickening of the cortex following repeated meditation. But what’s the evidence that a thicker cortex actually makes for a smarter, happier, better, more effective human being? None yet! What does it indicate that some research suggests a thicker cortex may be associated with autism? The fact that experience, including meditative and self-hypnotic experience, changes brains in measurable ways is fascinating, but it raises far more questions than answers about the psychological impact of these changes.

More important to the understanding of mindfulness and hypnosis, though, is the evidence that what a brain scan reveals depends on what the client is being asked to do. GMMs typically have different focal points associated with them than do hypnosis sessions. In fact, it may be that all that differs between GMM and hypnosis is what the person focuses on and how that focused mind-state is used. The effects of suggesting global and spiritual experiences to people—feelings of acceptance, forgiveness, or overall serenity—will be quite different to those of providing clients with specific ways to accomplish a particular goal, such as overcoming depression or anxiety. Clinical hypnosis is openly and unapologetically goal-oriented, while GMM is equally goal-oriented, but its practitioners are still uncomfortable defining themselves as such.

The similarities of clinical hypnosis and GMM are stronger by far than their differences. The methods of both stimulate unconscious processes that produce automatic or nonvoluntary, but meaningful and helpful, responses—even though GMM practitioners may not use this language to describe what they do. How are these “spontaneous transformations” accomplished? Mindfulness practitioners will typically respond with a global answer of an “awakening” or a spiritual answer of “enlightenment.” However, a more realistic answer is to be found in the neuroscience of attention and, more specifically, in the capacity to influence unconscious processes in dissociated states.

Dissociation: The Driving Force

Both GMM and clinical hypnosis use suggestive methods to elicit beneficial, nonvoluntary responses—suspension or amelioration of pain, “spontaneous” feelings of compassion, acceptance, or transcendence, and so on—that can’t simply be willed. During a course of meditation, a wide range of responses can seem to arise as if from nowhere. For example, a mindfulness practitioner has the client focus on her breath by suggesting that she “become aware of the breath, the rise and fall of the chest, the warm or cool temperature of the air,” and the client’s breathing may slow down, even though the practitioner hasn’t suggested that she slow her breathing down. The client says it “just happened.” Similarly, a person undergoing GMM reports an “amazing transformation of my anger to forgiveness” or proclaims “my self-hatred turned to self-love.” These aren’t responses you can consciously generate on demand. They’re nonvolitional but subjectively powerful. It’s not surprising that a client will have the feeling that something “magical” just happened.

What may seem magical to people who haven’t analyzed this phenomenon in depth is actually one of the most intensively studied aspects of clinical hypnosis. People can have dramatic sessions in a wide variety of ways, and these can have powerful enduring effects. One of the most common observations documented in the hypnosis literature is how a new perceptual or behavioral response can be readily absorbed and then repeatedly acted upon for a time span ranging from a short while to an entire life—even on the basis of a single hypnotic experience.

Even more intriguing, during hypnosis, people are typically fully aware of the suggestions being given them and their responses to the suggestions. But they’re not aware of how they’re able to respond nonvolitionally—how they’re able to develop pain-relieving numbness in a limb, for instance. Understandably, this gives many the feeling that something remarkable “touched their soul,” outside the context of the hypnotic relationship. The same thing happens with GMM, during which people may be aware of and respond powerfully to suggestions for “loving-kindness,” for instance, but have no idea how they did so. So, they feel that “something amazing happened!” It’s curious and puzzling to observe such responses; it’s hard to try to explain them. What about the unconscious allows automaticity of responses—responses that seemingly “just happen” involuntarily, outside of or beyond our willed control, as a result of well-crafted suggestions from the therapist or guide?

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Last modified on Monday, 14 May 2012 08:55

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4 comments

  • Comment Link Friday, 14 October 2011 01:25 posted by Tim Duerden

    I managed to click submit a little prematurely below - hence a typo or two like an extra 'so' 9 lines or so down.
    I also did not make the more critical point I intended that I did not recognise Michael's generalisation that mindfulness teachers attribute the process of therapeutic change that mindfulness facilitates to mystical or spiritual forces. I have never experienced this in the training I have received in the UK (e.g. from Breathworks or the Centre for Mindfulness Research and Practice at University of Bangor) nor do I give this message in the training I deliver. The attribution to efficacy is typically a mix of psychology, psychotherapy and neurophysiology. Buddhist philosophy is used at times but this has been drawn from the aspects of the tradition that more directly mesh with and can illuminate and enhance Western neuro-psychology and psychotherapy. The aspects of certain Buddhist traditions that evoke non-material / spiritual forces have been tucked quietly away and never mentioned...
    The only population of therapists I have experienced that do occasionally evoke Michael's mystical forces are spiritual healers who have become interested in mindfulness - such as those who have trained in Reiki. Such folk do often train in hypnotherapy and I wonder if Michael picked up his biased view from such therapists on his own training programmes.

    But Michael's characterisation did give me the opportunity to be mindfully aware of my mind's chattery reaction to his generalisation and a little tension in my guts - so at that level I welcome it!

  • Comment Link Wednesday, 12 October 2011 19:51 posted by devon mark

    I am a psychologist, educated in both hypnosis (Dr. Erickson was one of my role models) and mindfulness, over the past 30+ years. I found Michael's article clarified for me how the language of hypnosis has become a "meta-language" for me to conceptualize therapy and many life experiences, including meditation. Once again I appreciated his clarity in helping me sort out the various ideas and practices that abound in the therapeutic community.

  • Comment Link Tuesday, 11 October 2011 05:09 posted by Tim Duerden

    I found Michaels article fascinating - and helpful.

    I am trained in both mindfulness based approaches and hypnotherapy and would agree with Michael that there tends to be an almost automatic uneasiness in many mindfulness teachers when associations are made between mindfulness and hypnotherapy - or even with guided imagery.
    Some of this I think arises from the language used to describe a mindful state as being a state of 'bare awareness' or a state in which there is closer contact with reality. This then makes anything that knowingly alters our experience of 'reality' seem manipulative or a distancing from 'reality'. And yet this manipulation is explicitly present in so most mindfulness guidance offered by teachers as Michael shows in his article - even if it is not acknowledged by the teacher themselves.
    These issues are nicely illustrated by common guidance offered for mindfulness of breathing.

    Firstly, there is commonly instruction as Michael points out above: "see if we can drop in on the sensations of breathing without fiddling with the
    breathing at all". This to me risks setting up an assumption that an 'unfiddled with breath' is somehow a more worthy target of mindfulness than a 'fiddled with breath': when we can be just as mindful of either experience. My hypnotherapy training taught me to be very careful with such biased guidance as it very easily creates a tension as the person tries not to fiddle - and therefore inevitably starts fiddling. From a mindfulness practice viewpoint setting up guidance to induce such tension offers the person the chance to explore being mindful of that tension and so could be argued to be still valid: but this to me risks being an excuse for unskillful and uncompassionate teaching.

    Secondly, mindfulness of breathing guidance often contains experientially manipulative kinaesthetic imagery: if I am imagining my breath flowing in and out of a painful area and noticing that the pain starts to be more accessible and bearable I am manipulating my experience through imagery - in this case body based kinaesthetic imagery.

    Overall what I took from my hypnotherapy training is the potency of language and how what we say and how we say what we say matters. Yes, those we guide have the opportunity to be mindful of the impact unskillful language has on their state - but this risks being an abdication of professional responsibility. I remember one respected mindfulness teacher [who came from a Buddhist / yoga background] guiding a mindfulness-based stress management group out of a long body scan practice and casually saying: "Sometimes you may feel as if your body is paralysed - but this will pass." [!]
    I think the approach taken in Clean Language is a really useful bridge for mindfulness teachers into greater awareness of the power of metaphor in language.

    I do think hypnotherapy has much to learn from mindfulness and compassion based approaches as well. When I am training hypnotherapists to be mindfulness teachers I find the hypnotherapists discover a way of approaching their moment-to-moment experience with their clients in a richer and deeper way - as do psychotherapists. The territory is familiar but the route taken fresh and illuminating...
    Acceptance and Commitment Therapy also offers a framework that enriches my hypnotherapy practice as it provides a fairly rigorous model with which to assess whether or not the interventions I am making may be supporting avoidant behaviour patterns.