Day 4 - First Feedback Cycle
I got feedback on my introduction and my first piece of content. The feedback I got was that it is too intellectualizing, too dense! It made me remember that people like reading about people, more than they like reading about ideas or things. One of my favorite books that I’d read recently is “The Goal” by Eliyahu M. Goldratt. It teaches the “theory of constraints” in the format of a business novel. I got through the entire 350 pages in a week. And it definitely is the case that the ideas in the book could have been described in one page — but then it wouldn’t have really landed or resonated nearly as much.
I am very happy I got feedback, but now I feel more lost than before! There is a cool thing I can do where I write from the perspective of a therapist, and we have our main protagonists coming in with their stories, and then their friends join in too at various points, and we learn how the friend group is intertwined. That might be cool. I also like the idea of readers being able to turn to various “scenes” and use that as an index to find what they are looking for when they are rereading the book to find something. A memorable scene, a discussion with the therapist narrator, and a worksheet, seems like a good way to structure each micro-section of the book.
But I would still need something like an “arc”! But I suppose I should just start. Instead of “imagine you are Alice” I can start off with just describing Alice. Painting it in the reader’s imagination. And then if the reader never stops to do the exercises, the reader still gets something out of the book by reading just the story parts of the book.
I am intimidated about getting the content out like this in 30 days. But I can try it. A friend said today, “If you write what you love, you’ll start to love writing.” The opposite is true — if something feels wrong or stagnant, writing in that way will feel pretty bad. And so if I find the thing that has momentum, I’ll probably be surprised by how quickly the content comes out.
So let’s try rewriting yesterday’s piece with this new concept in mind.
SEPARATING SENSATION AND STORY
Alice: My pineapple sorbet won first place at the county fair. Then, the beehive transport for my niece’s show-and-tell went unexpectedly well. The bees mostly stayed in the box. I came home from work completely buzzing.
Reverend Doctor Simms: That sounds like a really great day!
Alice: Yeah! It was really terrific. I felt all shiny and glittery. I got home and my boyfriend Bart was on the couch, barely looking up from his laptop. And he had half of my Jersey Mike’s Philly cheesesteak, so I didn’t even have that to look forward to. I didn’t confront him about it, because I didn’t want to ruin the good mood. I tried sharing the good news. He just snapped hello at me and mumbled something before just going back to his laptop.
Reverend Doctor Simms: And how did that make you feel?
Alice: I felt pretty bad.
Reverend Doctor Simms reclines in his couch, therapeutically seeming, and jots down some notes. He looks up.
Reverend Doctor Simms: And how did that make you feel in your body?
Alice: Still bad. Look, if we’re wasting our time here, I can go home —
The Reverend Doctor smiles.
Reverend Doctor Simms: Don’t worry. We are just getting started. There are many things we can do, other than ask over and over how you are feeling. You want something in your life to improve. I agree that this is the goal. You were feeling pretty bad, and feeling bad can be seen as just the starting point for something better.
Alice: Alright.
Reverend Doctor Simms: What happened in your body, when he was sitting there on his laptop? Did it feel like all the glitter you had inside you suddenly vanished? Did you feel. your muscles stiffen? DId your heart sink to the floor?
Alice: It felt like he was dejecting me, or like I have to walk on eggshells around him and respect his bad moods, while he doesn’t respect my good moods. Like we have to have a baseline of negativity all the time. Or it feels like he’s clipping my wings and I can’t ever be powerful or beautiful around him. Or like he doesn’t appreciate me.
Reverend Doctor Simms: Stay only with the descriptions of what is happening in your body. Does your stomach clench? Do you feel a rush of heat to your face or ears? Does your vision narrow or blur a little? Do you feel suddenly heavy? Do you feel a lump in your throat? Do you feel your mind go blank?
Alice: My mind goes blank, and then my vision gets a little blurry. I sort of tune out the world.
Reverend Doctor Simms: Good. Try to stick only with the physical descriptions. Most people, most of the time, combine sensation and story as a communication habit. But for now, we want stay in the realm of pure sensation, and then allow ourselves to go completely berserk in the realm of story.
Alice: I feel myself get hot, and uncoordinated.
Reverend Doctor Simms: Stay with those feelings for a bit, so that you’re really clear with them. Next, think about what Bart looks like on the couch. Do not guess his emotions, or internal states. Only describe what he looks like. Does he have his knees up on the couch? Is he frowning? Does he have dark circles under his eyes?
Alice: He looks like an ugly jerk. I can’t stand looking at him like this!
Reverend Doctor Simms: But what is he physically doing when you think he looks like an ugly jerk?
Alice: He stares only at the screen, and doesn’t move his eyes at all. He holds his breath. I can’t see his chest or belly move at all. He has a frown.
Reverend Doctor Simms: Good. Now you get to stop and tell all the stories you want. What story do you tell yourself about what this means? But we aren’t going to stop at just one. We are going to name as many different stories as we can about this same situation, of Bart on his laptop with a frown on his face. “If I were really lovable, he should be lighting up when I walk in. We aren’t on the same team and he thinks I’m just an interruption to his Doomscrolling. I am somebody who never deserves to be happy.”
Alice: That’s basically how I feel.
Reverend Doctor Simms: But don’t stop there. Keep making up stories, and try to come up with stories that are far simpler than your initial reaction, and stories that are far more far-fetched.
Alice: He was frowning because he didn’t know how to close the window on his open “what are boobs made of tab.”
Reverend Doctor Simms: Good!
Alice: He was frowning because he ate a spoiled apple. He was upset because the TV he wanted to buy isn’t on sale anymore. He is holding back anger that his friend wrote a bad tweet.
Reverend Doctor Simms: And now some overly complicated ones.
Alice: “He was frowning because his boss finally replied to that email thread from three months ago, the one where Bart accidentally cc’d the entire executive team, including the CFO and a mysterious ‘consultant’ whose only contribution has been to ask ‘Can we take this offline?’ over and over. Now there’s a new message with the subject line ‘Re: Re: Re: Performance Concerns (Follow‑Up),’ and Bart is trying to decode whether ‘we have valued your contributions’ means ‘you are about to be fired’ or ‘you are already fired.’
Reverend Doctor Simms: And another!
Alice: He was trying to calculate whether Venmoing me $17.43 with the note ‘Sorry for your loss’ would make things better or worse, started looking up how to make a Philly Cheese Steak, and started poring over the dramas involving the Wisconsin Cheese Scandal. You know what, this is starting to cheer me up. Come to think of it, whenever we talk, what it ends up being never ends up the thing I fear worst. Usually it’s that he had some kind of a bad day, not that he stopped loving me overnight or that the person I love most believes that I am fundamentally unlovable.
Reverend Doctor Simms: Good! Feelings that get that intense are very common. Next time, we will go into the even more intense feelings. But first, for this next week practice separating out the sensations, and the stories. Try to have a bit of fun noticing the sensations, and making up the stories. Try to be more precise in your observations, and then more extravagant in your stories than you are used to.
Exercises
Set a timer for 3 random points in your day. When the timer goes off, pause and ask:
Where am I holding tension right now? (jaw, shoulders, stomach, hands)
What temperature is my body? (hot face, cold hands, neutral)
How’s my breathing? (shallow, deep, held)
Most people only notice their body when they are already panicking. Notice how much your body changes, before you have an internal alarm to check it, and only have the external alarm.
Next time you feel hurt, rejected, or or dismissed, play the separation of sensation and story game in real life.
Pause. Physically leave the room for 60 seconds if you need to.
Write or mentally note: “Body sensations I’m having: ___” (use only physical descriptions—no metaphors about the relationship)
Write or mentally note: “The story I’m telling: ___”
Write or mentally note: “Three other possible stories: ___”
3. Pick your last fight or tense moment you had with somebody. Write down:
Which vice was I embodying? (pride, avarice, wrath, envy, lust, gluttony, sloth)
Which vice was my partner embodying?
What would the scene have looked like if I’d swapped my vice for a different one?
Vices are universal. Eliminating shape around the specific vice you are exhibiting allows you to change stories more easily.
When you pass by a person, practice in your head describing only what you see, like you are a nature documentarian. Then, make up a fantastical story about them, as if they are in a fantasy novel.