Should I listen to my heart?
In therapy, especially CBT (Cognitive Behaviour Therapy) we spend a lot of time exploring how our thoughts are not always the truth and therefore cannot be trusted. For example, I am out with friends, I make a comment, and as I do I see a friend rolling their eyes. How I interpret and think about that tiny non-verbal moment can have a profound effect upon how I feel. My heart starts to tell me a story that is deeply rooted in my past experiences… for example “you’re an outsider, not welcome, they all think you’re weird” etc.
The more important something is to us the deeper we feel it; the more importance I place on that person’s view of me the bigger the effect. On 1st August 2024 we launched Minds Thrive in the UK, and in the process we asked our family and friends to test and review it. Spelling is something I am always seeking support with, and those corrections don’t bother me in the slightest. But why was I feeling so apprehensive about their response when I had asked for it?
I wondered if it was linked to some kind of effort-to-importance ratio. For about two and a half years we have been developing and growing this business. We have been deeply emersed in writing and recording the content. We need fresh eyes to see the things we have gone blind to. Logically I know that honest feedback is what we need and will help us finetune and enhance our work to the standard of excellence we are aiming for. But my heart is feeling exposed and vulnerable. My thoughts had fed into these feelings, but now the heart seems to be feeding my thoughts.
Listening to my heart I’m pulled to hide, not to expose my work or myself in this way. If I don’t want feedback from family and friends, how will I cope with the comments of strangers? Perhaps it will be easier to filter, perhaps it will be more painful. This is all very new. My feelings are responding to wounds from the past, they are trying to protect me from wounds in the future. If I listen to my heart alone I am likely to stop. Freeze with fear. I won’t proceed. My heart condemns me to a prison of “you can’t, you’re not good enough, you’re not worthy”.
Aristotle tells us “It is the mark of an educated mind to be able to entertain a thought without accepting it”, supporting the CBT philosophy that we can’t trust our unscrutinised thoughts. If we also can’t trust our hearts where do we go from here? In DBT (Dialectical Behaviour Therapy) we find wisdom in the intersection between our emotional mind and our rational thinking mind. DBT proposes we are likely to increase the wisdom of our thoughts, judgments and decisions if we examine them through a rational and emotional lens. It seems we need to guard our hearts and part of that is not to accept our thoughts without scrutiny.
Another helpful strategy is to seek a wider perspective. Pan out. Pan back. Pan up. Taking a helicopter or eagle’s perspective may need support from family, friends, colleagues or (as the 12 steps programme proposes) a higher being. We can also develop perspective ourself by asking how important this will be in a month, a year, or 10 years-time.
Part of my fear of launching Minds Thrive was linked to self-absorbed fears of how others could judge me. If I choose to ask deeper questions about why I am doing it, and how the critique of others can assist with these goals, this wider perspective can alleviate some of my anxiety. What I am doing here is linking my actions to my beliefs and values, these sit deeper than my easily accessible and automatic thoughts. I believe what we are doing can help people, and helping others is something I value and have committed my life to.
I have chosen to examine the thoughts that feed my emotions and check their accuracy. “Everyone will ridicule you” needs tweaking to “some will ridicule you and others will find this helpful”. The heart response of fear is still there but is diluted a bit. Should I listen to my heart or try to “overcome” my fears? The choice I am making today is to evaluate my emotions by checking what thoughts or vanity feeds them, invite but filter the comments, step back and take a big-picture view. Then, rather than overcome my fears, I can choose to accept that although I still feel fearful…I’m going to do it anyway.
By Ruth Ryden