Have you ever watched a documentary on Africa? What did you see? Lots of crocodiles, lions, antelopes, gorillas and giraffes? Tribal dances? Military conflict? Political upheaval? Colourful marketplaces? Amazing mountains? Beautiful, placid villages in the country side? Poverty-stricken shantytowns? Starving children? You can learn a lot from watching a documentary, but one thing is for sure: a documentary about Africa is not Africa itself.
A documentary can give you
impressions
of Africa. It can certainly show you some dramatic sights and sounds, but it wouldn’t even come close to the actual experience of travelling there in the flesh. No matter how brilliantly filmed, no matter how ‘authentic’ it is, a documentary about Africa is not the same thing as Africa itself.
Similarly, a documentary about you would not be the same thing as you yourself. Even if that documentary lasted for a thousand hours and included all sorts of relevant scenes from your life, all sorts of interviews with people who know you, and all sorts of fascinating details about your innermost secrets, even then the documentary would not be you.
To really clarify this, think of the person you love most on this planet. Now, which would you prefer to spend time with: the actual living person or a documentary about that person?
So, there’s this huge difference between who we are and any documentary that anyone could ever make about us—no matter how ‘truthful’ that documentary may be. And I’ve put ‘truthful’ in quotation marks because all documentaries are hopelessly biased in that they only show you a tiny part of the big picture. Since the advent of cheap video, the typical hour-long television documentary is the ‘best’ of literally dozens, if not hundreds of hours of footage. So inevitably it’s going to be quite biased.
And the bias of a human film director is nothing compared to the bias of our thinking self. Out of an entire lifetime of experience—literally hundreds of thousands of hours of archival ‘film footage’—our thinking self selects a few dramatic memories, edits them together with some related judgements and opinions and turns it into a powerful documentary entitled
This Is Who I Am!
And the problem is, when we watch that documentary we forget that it’s just a heavily edited video. Instead, we believe that we are that video! But in the same way that a documentary of Africa is not Africa, a documentary of you is not you.
Your self-image, your self-esteem, your ideas about the sort of person you are: all these things are nothing more than thoughts and memories. They are not you.
Right about now you may ask, ‘But if I’m not my thoughts and memories, then who am I?’
Good question ...
‘I think, therefore I am.’
These immortal words by the French philosopher René Descartes have had a major influence on western civilisation. In the western world, we believe that the thinking self is the pinnacle of human development. ‘Develop your mind,’ we are told. ‘Learn to think for yourself.’ Lateral thinking, rational thinking, logical thinking, positive thinking, analytical thinking and optimistic thinking are all widely encouraged. And let’s face it: thinking skills are really important in solving many problems in life. Indeed, Part 3 of this book places a major emphasis on effective thinking. But there’s more to human consciousness than just the thinking self—we also have the observing self.
‘I think, therefore I am,’ said Descartes. In other words, the mere fact that I have thoughts proves that I exist. But this begs the question: Who is there to observe those thoughts? ‘
I
am,’ you may say. But then, who, precisely, is this ‘I’?
Feeling a little confused? Good—that’s the perfect state to start from. We’re embarking on another major paradigm shift and strong reactions are expected. The following exercise is derived from similar ones devised by Hank Robb, Steven Hayes and Roberto Assagioli. It consists of a series of short paragraphs, each ending in a question. As you read each question, I want you to observe your
immediate
reaction: the thoughts and feelings that instantly spring to mind.
As you read, observe what you are doing. Notice that you are involved in the act of reading. Be aware of your eyes moving across the page. Observe your eyes moving from word to word in this sentence. Now ask yourself, who is doing the observing?
What was your reaction to that last question? It was probably a thought like, ‘Me!’ or ‘I am!’ Alternatively, rather than a coherent thought, you may have observed a feeling of confusion or irritation, or a sense of ‘going blank’. Whatever it was that you observed—whether a thought, feeling, confusion or blankness—ask yourself: Who was doing the observing?
Now, whatever reaction you are having at this time, just observe it. If it’s the same thought, ‘Me’ or ‘I am’, just observe that thought. If it’s a feeling of irritation or confusion, just observe that feeling. If it’s a thought like, ‘Where is he going with this?’ or ‘I don’t understand’, just observe it. And as you observe, ask yourself, who is doing the observing?
Now, observe the position that you’re sitting in right now. Observe what sensations you can feel in your legs and in your feet. Wiggle your toes and observe what it feels like. Now ask yourself, who is doing the observing?
Your answer to each of the above questions was probably either ‘Me’ or ‘I am.’
So now let me ask you: that ‘me’ or ‘I’ who’s doing all this observing—is it a thought or image or sensation? Or is it a place from which you observe thoughts, images and sensations?
Hopefully, in the above exercise you experienced that no matter what thoughts, images or sensations came up, there was a part of you that was separate from them; a part that was able to ‘step back’ and observe them. That part of you is what I’ve been calling the observing self. It’s the place from which you observe thoughts, feelings, sensations, memories, images, urges, sights, sounds, smells and tastes.
Whatever you are thinking, whatever you are feeling, whatever you’re sensing, whatever you’re doing, this part of you is always there, observing it. You know what you’re thinking only because this part of you is able to observe your thoughts. You know what you are feeling or sensing only because this part of you is able to observe your feelings and sensations. You know what you’re doing only because this part of you can observe your actions. Without this observing self, you have no capacity for self-awareness.
Consider this: Which part of you does not change from the day you are born till the day you die? Your thoughts and images change continuously. (How many thoughts have passed through your head in the past five minutes?) Sometimes they’re pleasant, sometimes painful, sometimes helpful, sometimes a hindrance. But one thing’s for sure: they keep changing. Now, in a moment I’m going to ask you to close your eyes and take twenty seconds to observe your thoughts. When you do this, notice where your thoughts seem to be located in space—above you, in front of you, inside you—and notice, too, the form that those thoughts take: are they more like pictures, words or sounds? And as you observe those thoughts, be aware that you’re observing them. Notice, there are your thoughts—and there’s you observing them. (Do this now, for twenty seconds, then open your eyes and read on.)
Your feelings and sensations, like your thoughts and images, change continuously. Sometimes you feel sad, sometimes you feel happy. Sometimes calm, sometimes angry. Sometimes healthy, sometimes sick. Sometime energised, sometimes tired. (How many different sensations and emotions have you experienced in the past 24 hours?) Now, in a moment, I’m going to ask you to close your eyes and take twenty seconds to observe your feelings and sensations. And as you observe those feelings, be aware that you’re observing them. Notice, there are your sensations—and there’s you observing them. (Do this now, for twenty seconds, then open your eyes and read on.)
Your body changes continuously. The body you have now is not the one you had as a baby, as a child or as a teenager. You may have had bits cut out of it or bits put into it. You have scars, wrinkles and moles that certainly weren’t there ten years ago. You generate a whole new skin every six weeks. And your liver replaces every single cell over a period of three months. In fact, over the past seven years, every single cell in your body has been replaced by new ones. Now, in a moment I’m going to ask you to close your eyes and take twenty seconds to observe your body. When you do this, notice how you can instantly observe any part of your body you wish—your toes, ears, elbows or knees. And as you observe your body, be aware that you’re observing it. Notice, there are all the different parts of your body—and there’s you observing them. (Do this now, for twenty seconds, then open your eyes and read on.)
So the roles you play and your thoughts, images, feelings, sensations and physical body all change continuously throughout your life. However, the ‘I’ that observes thoughts and images doesn’t change. The ‘I’ that observes feelings and sensations doesn’t change. The ‘I’ that observes your body doesn’t change.
Now ask yourself this: That ‘I’—the place from which you observe all these things—is it good or bad, right or wrong, or is it ‘just there’?
Hopefully, you answered ‘just there’ to the last question. The observing self can’t be judged as good or bad, right or wrong, because all it does is observe. If you do ‘the wrong thing’ or a ‘bad thing’, the observing self is not in any way responsible; it merely notices what you’ve done and helps make you aware of it (thereby enabling you to learn from it). Moreover, the observing self will never judge you, because judgements are thoughts and the observing self cannot think.
The observing self sees things as they are, without judging, criticising or doing any of the other thinking processes that set us up for a struggle with reality. Therefore, it gives acceptance in its truest, purest form.
The observing self can’t be improved on in any way. It is always there, working perfectly and seamlessly. All you need do is connect with it.
The observing self can’t be harmed, either. If your body is physically damaged through illness, aging or injury, the observing self notices that damage. And if pain arises, the observing self notices that pain. And if bad thoughts or memories happen as a result, the observing self notices those, too. But neither the physical damage, nor the painful feelings, nor any of the bad thoughts or memories can harm that part of you that observes them.
In summary:
When you take a look at that summary, you can see why people draw parallels between ACT and religion. But ACT places no religious or spiritual beliefs or expectations on this observing self. You a re free to conceptualise it as you wish and call it what you will.
Personally, I think of the observing self as being like the sky, while thoughts, sensations and images are like the weather. The weather constantly changes throughout the day. And whatever it is, the sky always has room for it. No matter how bad the weather, no matter how violent the thunderstorm, no matter how severe the sun, the sky cannot be damaged in any way. Even hurricanes and tsunamis, which may wreak death and destruction on the land, are unable to hurt the sky. And, of course, as time passes, the weather will change again and again, while the sky remains as pure and clear as ever. (This metaphor—comparing human consciousness to the expansiveness of the sky—is actually thousands of years old and can be found in many ancient spiritual/religious traditions!)
In normal, everyday life, all we get are ‘glimpses’ of the observing self because most of the time it’s obscured by a constant flow of thoughts. Again, this is like the sky, which may at times be completely obscured by clouds. But even when we can’t see the sky, we know it’s there; and if we rise up high enough above those clouds, we will always find it.
Similarly, when we rise above our thoughts, we ‘find’ the observing self: a perspective from which we can observe our negative self-judgements or self-limiting beliefs without being hurt by them. From the perspective of the observing self, you can look at that ‘documentary’ about who you are and see it for what it is: a collection of words and pictures compiled by the thinking self. The thinking self tells you that the documentary is you. But all you need to do is step back and observe it and notice who is doing the observing, and in that moment, there is the ‘real you’!
Tuning in to your observing self is very simple to do. Choose anything you are aware of: a sight, sound, smell, taste, sensation, thought, feeling, movement, body part, material object—literally anything. Focus on that thing and observe it as if you were a curious scientist. As you’re observing it, notice who’s doing the observing.
That’s all there is to it. In that moment, when you observe the observing, you are the observing self. In that moment, you are awareness of awareness; consciousness of consciousness. Of course, this will only last for a moment or two. Almost instantly your thinking self will start analysing or commenting on what’s happening, or conjuring up a variety of images or memories. And as you get caught up in those cognitions, the observing self is once more obscured.
Still, it’s comforting to know that it’s always there and instantly accessible whenever you want it. The reality is, for the rest of your life, you will get caught up in stories about who you are. Because of the nature of the mind, this will happen again and again, until the day you die. However, hopefully you now have the
direct experience
that you are not those stories. So the moment you realise what is happening—that you’re fusing with stories or believing that you are the documentary—you can instantly step back and observe. Then all you need to do is notice that you’re observing and in that moment, there is the real you.
This brings us to the end of Part 2 of this book. Part 3 is about taking action to create the life you want. Inevitably, as you take that action, you will face many fears and encounter many unpleasant thoughts and feelings. But more and more, via defusion, expansion and connection, you can learn to overcome such obstacles. And it helps to know that no matter how daunting they may seem, there’s always a safe place, deep within you, where the essence of who you are cannot be harmed.