Why I stopped doing The Work of Byron Katie
I realize I never gave an explanation about why I stopped doing and offering The Work. So it is time to set this straight.
In April 2008, Byron Katie removed my profile as Certified Facilitator of The Work from her website and cut me off from the organization and the network. I only noticed this a month later and realized it was a breakup between Katie and myself. Because of the many questions I received, I published the full story of that event on a weblog. I never linked the weblog to my regular website, and I realize now that most of the people on my mailing list never read the document. While it is no longer available online, anyone interested can still receive it in pdf form upon request.
That said, I stopped doing and offering The Work for reasons unrelated to these events, and I would like to clarify them here.
The breakup between Katie and myself was quite traumatic and initiated a process that was to last for almost 2 years. In the beginning, it was all about mourning the loss of a dear friend, feeling rejected and not understanding why this had happened. Very soon after this event, I lost most of my clientele and all workshops and training programs had to be cancelled. My company came to a virtual stop and there was a huge loss of income. Six months later, my father’s wife was hospitalized due to an accident, and I moved in to look after him. It seemed I had lost not only my dearest friend and teacher, my company and my income, but also my home, my time, in short, my entire life.
Though the pain was intense, when I tried to do The Work, it had no effect whatsoever. I realized I wasn’t supposed to try and make this go away or even use The Work to gain understanding. Everything in my life moved into slow motion mode, my thinking, feeling, responding, even my physical movements. This slowing down functioned as a witnessing apparatus; at the same time everything was being experienced, it was also being seen as if from a distance.
Almost from the beginning, a new question appeared: ‘What’s wrong with this?’ It referred more to the feelings in my body and the thoughts in my head than to the events themselves (I could definitely see what was wrong with losing money!): ‘What’s wrong with this so-called suffering?’ At first the question was wordless, and even when the words came, it remained unanswered for quite some time. All I did was wait. Emotions arose and subsided, as did thoughts. There were days of severe depression and the feeling of being in shock, and there were rare days of elation and feeling happy. It all came and went. I could see this was pointing in one direction only: there is nothing wrong with any emotion or thought arising inside of me. They don’t need to be ‘Worked ‘ with any kind of approach or system, they don’t even need to be understood. If anything, they need to be seen and experienced—and not even that. The other thing that was very strong was a sense that I could cope with this, no matter what came.
The first time I ever did The Work, with Katie in 1996, I experienced a revelation accompanied by a huge ‘Aha’ moment. I looked at myself in a way I never had before and became aware that there is such a thing as a story in my head, and that the story is not necessarily true. It seemed I had at last found the One Thing that was going to end my suffering. Looking back, I notice two important things: I see the superiority that came along with finding The Work. This superiority led me to believe that I had found something that was better than anything else. Secondly, I realize how fast it became my new religion, and my crutch, imprisoning me in a loop that consisted of looking at life in terms of one-liners or underlying beliefs, doing The Work on them to find (temporary) relief, and waiting for the next one to arise. My life became a continual “Question 6” (from the Judge Your Neighbor Worksheet): looking forward to the next belief arising, so I could do The Work again.
But now, twelve years later, I noticed I had stopped doing The Work. This was not a decision born of bitterness or spite, in fact it was not a decision at all. It was a process that initiated itself and took about a year. I had been deeply involved with The Work for a very long time. Looking at the world around and inside of me through the filter of Four Questions and a Turnaround had become conditional and habitual. A very strong pattern. Yet now The Work was falling away.
Finally, it came to a complete stop inside me, and in that moment there was a deep shift. Something arose which I can only describe as silence. A silence that had nothing to do with not speaking or the absence of noise. A silence that embraced and encompassed everything without discrimination, preference or judgment. It felt as if there was nothing behind me anymore, that the effect of my entire story of the past was gone. Not that I didn’t remember my past, I definitely did, but it no longer cast a shadow. Wanting love, approval, appreciation or understanding fell away and I noticed that in this silence there was no question of ‘knowing’ anything or being wise. The entire range of emotions arose within this silence, including the so-called stressful ones: anger, sadness, depression, frustration. They arose and subsided with a tiny little difference: there was nothing wrong with any of them, l didn’t need to undertake anything to make them go away, and as a matter of fact, if I could sit with them long enough, I discovered they actually carried a secret message which I got to hear if I fully opened myself to the experience. This message was always the same, it held laughter and put things into a different perspective.
After some weeks I could no longer find the silence inside of me, but I also noticed I didn’t care, because it made no difference. There was literally nothing wrong with it. I spoke with someone who suggested I couldn’t locate this silence anymore inside of me because it is everywhere. Could be, I don’t know, all I know is, it doesn’t matter. This silence is amazing as well as perfectly ordinary. It is not overwhelming nor is it obtrusive. It doesn’t lead me to intoxicating bliss or everlasting happiness, to tears of joy streaming down my face, although there are moments in which a kind of orgasmic feeling of delight seems to pervade my body and then leaves as abruptly as it appeared. This doesn’t demand anything of me, it doesn’t require me to become a better human being, to make amends, to stop judging, to stop smoking, to strive for (world) peace or become unconditionally loving. It isn’t necessarily good or bad, it simply is.
What I do these days in my coach sessions, workshops and training programs is an expression of this experience. I call it The Moving Dialogue and the Mental Bypass. The Dialogue is an abstract approach rather than a system, and leaves enough room for each individual to apply it in his or her own unique and authentic way.
A more detailed description as well as people’s experiences can be found elsewhere on this website.
I welcome your responses and feedback and would like to conclude with a question about The Work.
The Work is about the release of concepts. It is suggested that every ‘story’ be questioned save one, and that is The Work itself. So How would you react if you were never to do The Work again, and Who would you be without The Work?
Could this be the catch 22? Could it be that holding onto The Work is in fact the last obstacle that stands between you and the very thing The Work always promised? For me, this has been the case.
