‘Tis A Gift
‘Tis A Gift
Things should be made as simple as possible — but no simpler.
— Albert Einstein
The rate of the development of science is not the rate at which you make observations alone but, much more important, the rate at which you create new things to test.
— Richard Feynman
First, I’d like to talk about how the method uses scientific principles.
I’ve been inspired by the great physicist and teacher, Richard Feynman. His lectures and books—and his Nobel Prize for his work in quantum theory—led many people to think of him as, “the finest mind since Einstein”. In the book quoted above, Feynman was asked, “Are there any attitudes or experiences that you have when working with scientific information which you think might be useful in working with other information?” So our question, for this paper, is, Does Feynman’s response to this question apply to the work we do assisting others in their self-study? My answer is: I think so. Let me tell you why.
I once saw a video tape of Feynman giving a lecture at Esalen Institute. He said the scientific method involved three basic steps: (1) make a guess (Of course you have to be guessing about something, an observation of some kind.); (2) calculate the implications of your guess; then (3) do an experiment to test those implications. Do we do something similar in Hakomi? Yes, we do! Here’s how: We observe. That is, we watch for indications of the client’s present experience. We call that tracking. We also watch for habits. We call those indicators. We make a lot of observations, a lot of looking and listening for nonverbal expressions of beliefs and attitudes. We observe in order to make guesses. That’s another way of saying, we generate hypotheses about the person. Given our ideas, we create experiments to test them. And that’s step three.
Although we often only do experiments with a one person at a time, and not with groups of people, using control groups, double blind operations, etc., we are being experimental in this way: Our experiments are the direct result of our observations and our hypotheses about what those observations mean. And we’re seeking data which will help us confirm or disconfirm those hypotheses. And, we very often use the results of an experiment to “create new things to test”. The fact that this process is scientific, does not at all take away from the fact that the process is both intimate, personal and often a prelude to mental-emotional healing.
I always tell the students that it’s easy to have a complicated idea, but it’s very, very hard to have a simple idea. Often, that means thinking about them in new ways, that aren’t just the way everybody else is thinking about them.
— Carver Mead
Beauty is a very successful criterion for choosing the right theory. …. a beautiful or elegant theory is more likely to be right than a theory that is inelegant. Why on earth could that be so?
— Murray Gell-Mann
There’s a good reason for keeping things simple. As Gell-Mann tells us, your more likely to be right if your theory is elegant . Here’s what’s simple about the Refined Hakomi Method:
One, we’re making simple observations. We’re not analyzing people’s reports of their behavior or their histories. We’re not gathering our ideas from what people are saying. We’re not having long conversations about “how do you feel about this and that”. We’re observing the person’s present behavior and we’re making guesses about what they’re experiencing at this present moment. It’s very easy to do. We’re also looking for repetitive behaviors, in other words, habits. Even the most simple habits can suggest ideas about how those habits formed and how they serve the person. Many such habits serve the same purpose for almost all the people who have them. I’ve made lists of these indicators. They’re easy to find, if you’re looking and listening for them.
Our guesses about indicators, their origins and purposes, are also simple. A habit of shrugging ones shoulders is almost always an expression which says, “I can’t do anything about it.” Or, “It’s not my fault.” Given that guess, creating an experiment to test it is also simple. Here’s the reasoning: if the person has a habit of indicating, over and over again, that he or she is not responsible, there must be some need to defend against the accusation that they are responsible. To test that idea, we do an experiment. In this case the experiment could be a simple sentence, offered to the person while he or she is in a mindful state. The sentence could be, “It’s not your fault.” When the guess is a good one and the experiment well-selected and enacted, the results can be impressive. And not just impressive but heartwarming and effective.
How does the work become easy? One answer is this:
Learn simple things first and learn them to perfection.
— Kevin Kelley
The whole answer is this: The key factor separating geniuses from the merely accomplished is not a divine spark. It’s not I.Q., a generally bad predictor of success, even in realms like chess. Instead, it’s deliberate practice. Top performers spend more hours (many more hours) rigorously practicing their craft.
Rigorous practice. In the literature, it’s called, deliberate practice. It’s a whole new idea and the research is extensive. You can also have a look at Malcolm Gladwell’s talk on genius and his book, Outliers