In
contemporary
scientific thinking, energy is defined as the "ability to do
work." This conceptual definition reflects a tendency to view
reality in terms of objective measurements. Thus, the amount of
thermal energy needed to raise a given quantity of mercury a certain
distance in a glass tube is measured as "temperature." As the old
joke has it, the difference between the non-scientist and the scientist
is illustrated by the two boys who go swimming. The first sticks
his foot in the water and says: "It's cold!" The second replies:
"I'll get a thermometer, and we'll find out."
On a personal level, we all know subjectively
whether we are feeling high or low. We know if we are worn-out or
bummed-out, up or down, perky or excited, overflowing with zest, revved
up,
or simply out of gas. In fact, expressions such as these
generally tell us something about the quality
of our energy as well as its quantity.
They are invariably a good indicator of the degree of our energetic
vitality at a given moment; and when they describe our usual state of
being, they give us an indication of the texture and liveliness of our
personality. We need no scientific instrument to determine a
human being's energy level. In ourselves, we can experience how
energetic we feel, and in
others we can observe how energetically they behave. If we rely on our
observation of another's behavior and also on the other's report of his
or her own experience, then we can gain insight and understand a great
deal about that individual's character structure.
In Reichian Energetics, we work directly with the
character structure of an individual by addressing the quantity and
quality of a person's energy level. We know that the quantity of
energy is directly related to the depth and adequacy of a person's
breathing. Deep, adequate breathing, in turn, depends on the
balance and tonus of the muscular system. If the skeletal muscles
are chronically contracted or habitually dystonic, the respiratory
waves cannot flow freely through the body, and the energy level will be
insufficient. The arrangement of the muscular blocks or
constrictions can be evaluated in terms of their role in the
suppression and distortion of feeling and movement. When energy
is dammed up, all of the blocks work together to divert the flow away
from its natural path, and this diminishes the self-awareness of the
individual and alters his or her self-image. The energetic
experience of the person then becomes dammed up in stagnant pools of
unresolved emotions that are encircled by rings of armor. A
situation of stasis, or lack of movement, prevails. This is the
organismic anchoring of what Fritz Perls called the "unfinished
business" in the life of the person.
As disruptive of pleasurable living as it
necessarily is, the blocking of energy serves a definite
function. The origin of the blocking, or armoring, is to be found
in the early period of an individual's life. Such blocking
represents a personal adjustment to the intolerable conflicts which
result from the painful experience of inadequate care and
nurturance. Many insightful writers from varying traditions have
commented on the frequent hostility, rejection, hatred, callousness,
and ignorance exhibited by adults dealing with children. [1] Such
treatment, on an individual level, gives rise to
the disruption of personal functioning in the form of restrictions in
breathing and contractions in the organism. Early on, these serve
the purpose of blocking feelings and curtailing natural impulses that
are sensed to be threatening and that, indeed, are threatening in the
given environment.
While the armoring of the organism is meant to act
like a dam to control feelings and impulses, we all know that
dams sometimes break and overflow. Similarly, individuals may
have
trouble containing impulses. They may act erratically and in ways
that are inappropriate. Such behavior is rapidly becoming the
cultural norm today. It is as if there were too many feelings -
too much suppressed energy - to be contained, and the only relief to be
had from an intolerable tension is to open up the flood gates and to
"let
it out." The person then "loses it," meaning that he or she loses
control. There is usually some precipitating factor in these
instances, though it may appear to be minor: a frown from one's
supervisor at work or a relatively insignificant failure of empathy on
the part of a mate. Such minor events may elicit a major
experiential and behavioral response on the part of the
individual. Such occurrences have become increasingly common as
the frenzy and stress of contemporary living accelerate.
While the event that acts as a stimulus to the loss
of self-control may be significant, it is only part of the story.
When impulsive behavior is characteristic, we find that there is a
structural weakness in the individual's capacity to contain emotional
impulses. In fact, a great deal of attention has been paid to
this situation, which has become the subject of a considerable amount
of psychoanalytic theorizing. [2] In any case, while admitting
that
repression (compulsive suppression of impulses) indicates a disturbance
in natural functioning, we must recognize that lack of impulse control
is not the solution to the problem. It is merely another problem,
and often it is even more destructive than the classic inhibitions that
were so common in Freud's time. Let us attempt to understand more
clearly the nature of energetic flow in the body. We can do this
by using the analogy of a river.
The energy of a flowing river is contained naturally
within its own structure: the bed and banks of the river.
Sometimes the currents move more rapidly than at others, and sometimes
the river overflows its banks. At other times, the river may be
shallow, due to a draught. All of these variations occur
naturally, without the presence of artificial dams. Following
this analogy,
we can say that in healthy functioning a person's energy is channeled
through a balanced and stable character structure that is relatively
free of restrictions. Such a character structure
reduces to a minimum any tendencies either toward unnecessary
inhibition or
toward "acting out" in an impulsive manner. Both inhibition and
impulsiveness are the result of the systematic damming up of
energies. In the first instance, the dams are rigid and markedly
restrictive; in the second case, the dams are weak and
inadequate. This situation can be visualized as a spectrum in
which impulsiveness and inhibition are polar extremes deviating from
the
healthy center of balanced energetic functioning.
In serious personal growth work, the primary
direction of constructive change will vary, depending on where
individuals find themselves along the spectrum of blocked
functioning. For some, it is necessary to establish an improved
structure for self-containment. In doing so, such individuals
will experience increased functional integration and an improved energy
level. For others, the exceedingly rigid blocks must be
dissolved so that suppressed impulses can break through and life can
become more exciting and meaningful.
Obviously, the possible variety in character
structures among individuals is considerable. If, however, we
keep
in mind the energetic basis of life, we have a key to understanding
that variety; and we have a basis for deepening our awareness of how
best to proceed in working on an individual level to reduce or
eliminate the blocking of natural functioning. The goal must be
to shift the quality of our functioning toward the centerline of
energetically charged living within the context of a dynamically stable
personality structure. In this way, we work to meet the
challenges
of contemporary living by deepening our connection with life itself in
a concrete and practical way.
[1]
See the work
of Lloyd deMause, particularly his introduction to The
History of Childhood (New York:
The Psychohistory Press, 1974) and
his essay "The History of Child Abuse" (The Journal of Psychohistory 25 (3)
Winter 1998; available for downloading
at http://www.psychohistory.com).
The prevalence of destructive behavior of adults toward infants and
children can be
observed regularly in almost any public place, such as a supermarket or
a shopping mall. No specialized training is required to discern
such behavior. All that is necessary is a basic sensitivity to
the experience of the child. It is this basic sensitivity,
unfortunately, that is all too often lacking.
[2] See, for example, Otto Kernberg. Borderline
Condtions and Pathological Narcissism (New York: Jason Aronson,
1975).