E1 Social - Inadaptability/Superiority

The character one social is very different from the other subtypes of E1. This is the result of a characteristic designated by Oscar Ichazo — from whom I learned — as inadaptability. For a long time I preferred to simply use the word rigidity in describing this character, referring to something akin to a kind of schoolteacher mentality, and also to what Wilhelm Reich saw when he spoke of an "aristocratic character"; it's just that the word rigidity describes a behavioral style or a specific personality trait rather than a need or passion. Therefore, it remained pending for me to formulate a neurotic need from which the rigid character would become understandable.

In this search, the case of a woman who, in addition to being an intellectual and cultured woman who was part of the philosophy department of a university, spoke with a marked American Midwest accent, was very illuminating. And it was striking that she, despite having moved to California a long time ago, she continued with this strong accent that is usually associated with people with little educational level. Being a social character, it could be said that her inadaptability was expressed in it; but how to understand such a behavioral trait from an underlying motivation?

In this case, since people tend to adapt their way of speaking to that of the environment, it was worth asking: why did she care so little about it? It was enough for him to ask me that it became clear to me that the answer lay in his general attitude of feeling right. He acted as if the thought "my form is correct" implied that it is up to others to adapt. And this was also noticeable in the fact that he made language errors that did not correspond to his cultural level, which could be easily understood as a result of that attitude of believing himself to be someone exemplary.

However, the feeling that I am right does not constitute a motivation, or a passion. And if we want to explain the contrast between a conservational one - who, as we shall see, is the perfectionist proper, in view of his chronic awareness of his imperfections, which leads him to perfect himself -, and the social one - who already feels perfect and therefore it can make serious mistakes—, we must go back to the need for superiority, by virtue of which the social adopt the position of impeccable and perfect. The social one has a real passion for feeling "I'm right, and you're wrong"; and this, in turn, implies a certain power over others, because when he can make others feel that they are wrong. It is as if he were saying, "If you are wrong, then I have more right than you to dominate the situation."

It is a great technique, that of dominating through making others feel that they are wrong, and it can be understood as an alternative to the dominance that the sexual one establishes through mere assertiveness in taking possession and feeling with it. corresponding right. But, since these characters feel above all an implicit moral superiority, it is useful to point out the

great difference between morality and moralism: what is immoral in E1, apparently so upright and honorable, lies precisely in that its apparent morality is nothing more than moralism.

The transformation in the social E1 by Antonio Ferrara

This analysis of the social E1 is the result of the testimonies of five participants in the SAT program and data from the exercises that were carried out in said program, in addition to the notes collected during various therapy sessions.

I begin my talk by referring to the paradox that the social enneatype one adapts to the world by being a misfit. To demonstrate how this character form is organized, I have chosen some experiences from my childhood with images of me as a very young child.

I am at home, there is little light, almost darkness, and a lot of silence. My parents (especially my mother) are immersed in their chores and are worried; they don't talk. Later I will learn that his life, at that time, was difficult. Both have had several mournings and a sense of precariousness predominates. You can still feel the echoes of the war and the memory of the shelters in which we protected ourselves from the bombings. They live in a small town in northern Italy, on the border with Austria, in an unknown world, with a mainly German-speaking population. They feel strange in that environment and in that culture so different from theirs, southerners who come from Naples. It is easy to imagine that the child, faced with these difficulties that are constantly breathed, has decided not to create further problems and to withdraw, limiting their demands and minimizing their needs and desires. "I don't want to bother" would seem to be the basic decision; and from this, he learned not to ask and not to support himself. He numbed his natural vivacity and transformed into a quiet child—too much— a good child. He doesn't ask, but he also doesn't agree to receive, timidly saying no, even when it's a small gift. He was embarrassed when they worried or paid too much attention to him, according to him. He was considered a fragile, weak child: "Don't get tired... don't run.. . Are you tired?" they would say. I didn't like it.

When I was older, I discovered that I had valve insufficiency in my heart and that I was taking some risks. At that time you could not operate and there was nothing to do. I had understood my parents' concern a little, but I didn't want special treatment; I was very careful not to talk to anyone about my situation, which, on the other hand, had become a family secret. Luckily, I reacted. With the strength of unconsciousness and the desire to live in full mode, I organized my life from evaluations and decisions such as: "What you give me and do for me makes me suffer, I am wrong, I better do things on my own, as I like, and, if it is too much for you, I will manage alone. I want to feel capable, I want to get tired, I want to run, I want to risk hurting myself, I want to live up to my teammates." And I began to challenge this fragile heart.

This all started when I was about ten years old. However, I did not stop being a sensitive child, very emotional, who retained emotions by repressing them; I didn't want to show them, but inside they devastated my chest. I blushed and embarrassed even for little things. Little by little,

over time, I learned to control myself, I became stronger, harder; I didn't want them to find out what actually lived. I didn't want to be "weak, fragile, sensitive" and therefore hid my moods, the difficulties, and didn't ask. The way they loved me made me feel different, incapable, limited. Deep down I had no confidence that Mom and Dad could respond to my demands. It was important to exchange with the neighborhood colleagues, find social diversity, play with my classmates and then, growing, organize more structured activities with them. He put a lot of effort into what he did by defying the limit and enduring fatigue, even ignoring it. "Still a little more" — and I didn't even need to tell myself — had become a way of life: under effort, tireless. Later, during adolescence, the life patterns of my family and the environment in which I lived began to be narrow. I wanted something else. I wanted things different from what my world offered and I wanted to feel them mine. While fearful and shy, he was curious to face other realities. In discussions with friends, my ideas were often different from those of others and it seemed strange that they did not share them, but I kept them and defended them to the end because this made me feel whole. At school he was not a brilliant student; he had difficulties with scientific subjects, but he was still ahead. He did the bare minimum and with little interest. It is likely that in this case too the environment did not meet my expectations. Even though I wasn't formally a rebel, I wanted to do things the way I wanted and tended to go against the grain, imposing my views. And it wasn't against others: I just wanted to be true to what I thought was worthwhile and important to me. These traits developed mostly during adolescence, when I began to make choices that were not only outside of family schemes but also those of the rather large group of people I frequented. Over time, I realized that many of my behaviors covered a deep sense of devaluation and inadequacy, and that they were intended to satisfy a great desire for recognition. Paradoxically, I was embarrassed and blushing when I received it. Actually, as a boy, the recognitions they gave me referred to the fact that I was a good boy, of good judgment, polite, obedient. But I wanted to show myself and others that I was capable in what interested me, that for which I felt a vocation. My inadaptability was presented as an anti-intrusive attitude. I did not accept being considered a child. I wanted to be seen as a little adult who didn't create problems. I was always with the older people—albeit silently—instead of being with my siblings and their playing peers. It was as if he said, "See? They are children and I, on the other hand, am already big and I can be with you and your friends, I participate in the conversations of the great ones. Even though I listen only, yet I am here." With the passage of time, my maladjustment became more and more a need to differentiate myself, to be special. It was also a way of disobeying the boring routine, they were wanting to escape from home, to breathe...

All the people interviewed said that from very early on they had been older than their age. P., one of them, says that as a child she took care not only of her sick mother, but also of other relatives. C., since childhood, went to the hospitals where the relatives were hospitalized and spent whole days there taking care of them. At first it was terrible, I was obliged to do it, but then she got used to it; he no longer felt even the fear and suffering of being in such harsh places. She quickly forgot that she was a girl. Returning to P., she was not just a little nurse: at the age of ten she accompanied her father — whose social role was important — to parties and ceremonies.

Like a wife. He replaced his mother, who was ill. She learned very quickly to be a boss among her peers and, in this case, assumed a male role that she maintained even in adulthood. In general, the social E's with whom I have spoken — albeit with different nuances — have similar histories, not only because of the contents — often diverse — but also because of the existential decisions to which these stories led. One of them, B., underlines his desire to maintain his own identity: "If I adapt, I die," he says, "it's like suffocating. The explosion is almost obligatory, it is a matter of life or death. It's important to do what I feel, I don't want to be manipulated. The consequence is not feeling at home anywhere. A sense of non-belonging." O. says something similar: for him, "the feeling of estrangement and non-belonging is recurrent." He never felt "entirely" in the environments in which he has found himself. In the environment of the family of origin he feels "a movement of rebellion, estrangement and also of fighting". Returning to B., he has the conviction of not being able to be part of a group: "the group can lead to error", it is better to resign. He doesn't want contamination. It could be "dangerous" and gives no explanation as to why. You could imagine that in his fantasy he would relive what he necessarily lived as a child. He should be opposed to his wishes. M. also feels a need for estrangement. In her case, of a world in which she does not see a space for herself because values, she says, "are mercantile and linked to power games." "I seek honesty, integrity, coherence and spirituality," he says. O. also engages in spiritual experiences and attends meetings of religious groups. M, stresses that he usually has very high expectations and aspirations to a kind of purity that does not belong to this world. The experience that rejects reality as it is, to a greater or lesser extent, is a common and fundamental feature of social E1. He doesn't want to be a whole part of it. There is, deep down, a lack of trust in fellow human beings that holds him back. But he is also afraid of being unpleasant if he clearly says no. Consequently, when it does, it expresses itself with an often unconscionable vehemence and determination.

In a scene lived during a therapeutic experience conducted with the timeline technique (coming from NLP), both A. and U. tell an episode from the past in which there is a group of people talking to each other. They keep a certain distance and observe. They would like to meet the group, but they do not dare to approach. They are afraid to bother with their presence and not be well received. U.S., in particular, will say: "There are people gathered inside, but I stay outside; it might not be well received, I feel alien to them." Several of the people consulted show little willingness to participate when they are in a group. For A., the main concern is: "don't make yourself seen... do not express your ideas and opinions." They might find out how uninteresting it is what he says and thinks. And so, he prefers to remain silent.

Parents

Feelings and consequent behaviors of maladjustment can be considered the result of the child's encounter with his environment, especially with the parents, and also of specific internal elaborations. All the interviewees speak of a father endowed with a certain fascination, intelligent and quite admired. For some he is a good talker, with a marked tendency to dialectics,

able to prove his theses and be right. It comes, usually, a severe aspect. A glance of his is enough to obtain obedience. O. describes his father as "strong, hardworking, responsible; he liked to joke with people," make friends. O. lived his father as a sycophant, and he didn't like this. Regarding the education of his children, he was severe; sometimes he would hit them and argue a lot with his wife. "Because of this, I thought he was violent and I was very afraid of him." He felt neither presence nor care on the part of the father.

The mother is presented with more diversified images. Unlike the father, he seems to be afraid of life. In most cases she seems to be subject to the husband and dedicated to the family. Sometimes it is a counter-dependent and others describe it as superficial. For B. she is more affectionate and protective than the father. It gave him a lot of freedom, bordering on unconsciousness. In other cases, however, he suffered physical suffering and hysterical tendencies. P. was, from birth, rejected by the mother and this is why she has hated her. O. presents her mother as a "strong, combative and hard-working woman, very smart and present." She has a remarkable religious feeling and, like the father, is critical and authoritarian. But also gentle and generous: she likes to help those in need. She tends to isolation, while the husband is more sociable. "He gets very involved in the lives of the children, feels responsible/guilty," and expresses his love through concern. She is stubborn and stubborn, holds a grudge and "does not easily forgive the offenses received."

The parent that the social E1 incorporates with more evidence and with whom it most identifies is the father. From this derives a greater development of love-admiration. Secondly, empathic love is present, which usually increases with age. The least developed is erotic love. For A. and O., in particular, love-admiration is also directed to knowledge and spirituality, not only to people. For almost everyone, the initial idea is to have lived a happy childhood, although over time this way of seeing it changes.

In short, the social E1 is convinced that what his parents offer him is not enough for him. They believe they can't meet their needs. Think that it is better to organize yourself. From a very young age he has pretensions of autonomy, whether obedient or rebellious. From very early on he is a small adult. He wants to do his things directly, declaring it, or, more subtly, pursuing his goal without making much noise. Finally, it tends to impose its own model and it is difficult for it to adapt to what the external world offers it.

Existential decisions

Inadaptability is organized around decisions like: if things go like this and I don't like them, I'll do them my way. Even when I need help, it's best not to lean on others; surely I will not receive what I need and in the end I will have to fend for myself. I have to strive and strive to achieve it. I will be strong, so I can face life and overcome my limits and my inability. Neither fever nor disease will stop me, I will always be standing. I will not disturb, and so they will love me. I will

strive to deserve, so they will recognize me and I will be able to have the right to live in this world...

P. literally states: "I take care of myself and I don't let myself be taken care of. I take care of everything that concerns me, especially the difficult things. Since I need but it is difficult to be satisfied, I will fend for myself. I will be strong, good, bright, perfect. I will be like my father and the opposite of my mother." For others, the paternal and maternal roles are reversed, but the final decisions substantially do not change.

Perfectionism

Inadaptability foresees a constant effort and commitment to do things well; this becomes an unrealizable pretension: to be perfect. So, you need to do things better and better and you are never satisfied with what you get. This attitude produces a state of constant tension that prevents you from relaxing and enjoying the results. It quickly departs for another adventure or another obligation to fulfill. Whoever walks this path is supported by a crazy and irrational idea: "Only if I am perfect will I be loved," says B. The challenge with yourself is that "you have to arrive trusting only in your own ability and so others will admire me".

Demand

The claim to be perfect needs an executive instrument. How do I get perfection? Demanding, demanding. Even torture. With sacrifice and using only my means. The goal is to improve, improve and improve. I will show those parents, sometimes both, sometimes above all the father, but also the mother, what I am capable of. It is a kind of rescue that the child wants, and today the adult: prisoner of his own history, unconsciously pursues an impossible end of perfection. Develop a special eye to discover the error, the stain. Commitment and demand have the objective of giving a good image of oneself.

The defensive system

The social E1, like the other subtypes, takes as a basis of its defensive systems above all the reactive formation. Suppressing experiences is not enough. It transforms them. He wants to improve. He believes that what he thinks or feels does not have enough value, or that it will not be well received, and then transforms it into something else. The social subtype, in particular, expresses little of its anger — unless it has sexual as its second subtype — and replaces it with more socially acceptable forms. Their attitudes and expressions tend towards seriousness and circumspection. It shows controlled coldness, a subtle smile and a certain kind of gentleness, until it reaches an aristocratic superiority that can lead to indignation. It tends to show calm and control. In the activities that produce the greatest tension, anger becomes a diffuse demand that leads to the obsessive desire to improve and correct, especially the other, but also himself. Anger hides, remains in the background and becomes a push to improve, a pretension and control of oneself and others. Thus, the goal becomes seen as nobler: to do things better, to be better. For

P., the result of all this is disastrous. Not being programmed to have children, she manages to have one through artificial insemination. He is mother and father at the same time. It does not recognize the effective father sufficient capacity. He tries very hard; he wants to offer the child as much as possible. "I raised him as I was raised." The father wanted her to be perfect; she wants her son to be perfect. "You don't cry, you don't laugh, you don't feel afraid." The result is that the child self-produces small cuts and suffers; it does not tolerate all this presence and perfection.

Other characteristics

The social subtype is the most intellectual of the three subtypes of E1 and is often a great reasoner. Claudio Naranjo affirms: "Hides rage with imperturbability". And then he adds: "Aristocratic, elegant, circumspect. Underneath is the fire."

Several of the people involved in this research are dedicated to volunteering and helping. B. is dedicated to the defense of workers, although with an administrative role. He works in a union he considers "moderate." Everyone wants to be recognized for their own value, which is lost as soon as a criticism arrives or they realize that they have been wrong. There is a tendency to have the norm in mind: "the true norm is the one I believe in."

The Transformation

The aforementioned people went through the SAT experience. For B., the important change is manifested in the fact that he has achieved, during the last years, a certain type of serenity. Today he accepts that he can make mistakes; it used to be unthinkable. It gives more room to the game and allows it more often — albeit with some doubt — without fear of getting out of the mold. You no longer feel, as before, fear or a sense of danger if others see things differently from your own. There is more surrender, even if you do not know perfectly everything that the other to whom you give yourself knows. Today he realizes that if he goes to war he has to wait for the bombs. He still uses strong and determined language, and is aware of it. He hopes to be able to further develop erotic love: he has the feeling that it is not so dangerous.

P. Noticed a big change after the wedding — which was out of love, he stresses — even though you had the family against you. As he relates, from then on he began to "live the emotion", those emotions that he had always repressed. Another strong experience was the birth, at an already mature age, of a son. She couldn't have children, and when she arrived, she was a "full mother." Then she realized how her character influenced the relationship with her son, understood it, and put herself into discussion. She began a process of psychotherapy and attended the SAT program; worked on the whole aspect of delivery and trust. Controlling every single thing doesn't help. He began to trust even those he did not know. He understood, moreover, that it did not matter that people were more or less "competent" to relate to them. Also for other social E1s, the tendency to evaluate the competence of the other to establish a relationship is

evident. She realized, above all, that it was not necessary to be perfect to love herself, and that neither did the husband and son have to be perfect for her to love them. Today, he still has goals: he wants to develop gratitude, accept others even more, and make all kinds of pleasure his own, not just what he deserves. She wants to learn to have people closer and to be a mother, living old age without always looking for a meaning: what is worth. Let things flow by themselves, taking them as they are, and stop thinking, "What should I do?" trying to program it and figure it all out. She recently had a great feeling of gratitude towards a person who had helped her through a difficult time. He told me a few days after the interview. A feeling for which I had never left room; it was like admitting that I needed the other, that I couldn't. He felt happiness and liberation. He was finally able to recognize the absurdity of the claim never to rely on the other. And he was finally able to say thank you.

M. has, as a project, above all love as a couple (as B.); he wants to develop erotic pleasure — always neglected — of which he feels the lack today. In the SAT Program he discovered meditation and in it he finds today the "energy" coupled with a sense of gratitude and compassion. She also has the intuition that the meaning of life is something subtle, it is "vibration", and these are the experiences in which she feels involved today. Spiritual practice represents the only antidote to what he calls "the fatigue of existing," and thanks to it he is learning to be confident. Her aspiration is to be a serene mother and to fulfill herself in a job she believes in: to help others.

L. had decided very early that to save himself he had to know, to know. He did it until he reached arrogance: "I know." He made many efforts to make a living. He had to prove that he was responsible (he was asked to do so since he was little). But then he exaggerated... He tried too hard, without pause. It has been a conquest to accept that things are as they are and that it is okay to surrender. Today, it gives more room to desire and chooses more and more often to do what it wants. He discovered erotic love. He takes pleasure in natural and simple things: "the air, the people..." Their aspiration is to substitute duty for pleasure. He is admiring about knowledge, and no longer cares so much about teaching others to gain recognition. He wants to understand. He looks to the divine, to the higher, and understands that things are perfect just as they are. There is no need to change them.

A significant transformation of O. has been to recognize that rejection of others has to do with his own rejection of himself. In addition, he realized that he had sought in homosexual affectivity "the care of the father that I never had, and in the way I was in need." Over time he came to the conclusion that he had suppressed the heterosexual desire for "the search for the father's love." Finally, he dared to indulge in a sexual attraction to a woman.

For E., the tendency to educate and convince others of his reasons decreased. Very focused on her own convictions, only recently, and already in middle age, she is learning to be more tolerant and to accept that people might have other characteristics, be different from what she stubbornly wants to see.

U. wants to be more spontaneous, to make himself known by expressing himself more freely, and he wants to play. She starts talking about herself and would like to feel freer to show herself in the groups she participates in. Committed to the fight against injustice, she feels the need to give more space to the erotic, open, cheerful, carefree child. He wants to give more value to emotions, to feeling, and seeks spirituality.

As for my own transformation process, it occurred gradually and under different circumstances. Starting from the challenge of the teenager who no longer wants to be the good, fragile and withdrawn child, I faced my peers and looked for a place that was mine. In addition, I am helped by theater, creative expression, improvisation. Being able to experience different roles and work in a group. Theatre is an antidote to shame, but above all something I chose and like beyond what my parents expected, and in the end it became a profession. The friends of the neighborhood and the social center have been very important because it was there that I opened up to relationships and learned to manage the activities from a model of assembly and collaboration. There I had a sense of belonging. Later, came the encounter with Gestalt therapy, which opened the doors to transparency and spontaneity and also to the expression of emotions (always retained).

It has been essential to be a transactional analyst, thus completing my entire career. This school has given me clarity and structure, even at work, ingredients that I integrated to complete the Gestalt experience. Moreover, the meeting with Claudio Naranjo was fundamental, who from 1982 became a constant presence in my life. With him, thanks to the SAT Program and our personal encounters, I have lived profound changes and I have learned to integrate everyday life with the subtle levels of consciousness. My personal development proceeds slowly, and I perceive it as a harmonious process in which the different aspects tend to form a unitary whole. With Claudio Naranjo I have learned to feel gratitude; I have learned to see the phenomena of life from different points of view; and I have nurtured confidence in growth and transformation. I was always moved by his faith in transformation. In truth I had it too, but with it it was reinforced.

I believe that everything I have explained so far in these lines constitutes a set of important factors that characterize the path of transformation of the social E, who in the face of its own coldness and rigidity needs a loving welcome as well as to be appreciated for its capacity because it does not recognize itself. He needs to resize the criticisms and the negative judgment he has about himself and that are then reflected in the world. There is also the central aspect that occupies the spiritual experience, for a long time little felt but that little by little became something very important. I found it outside my tradition — Catholic — in Riverside Buddhism, through Namkai Norbu Rinpoche — whom I consider my first and foremost teacher — and then in the model and person of Claudio Naranjo. Spiritual teachings gave me more lightness to face life and more altruistic love, two factors that I consider very important for the transformation of social life. Spirituality has helped me to let go of perfectionist desires and useless idealisms. Altruistic love leads me to be less demanding and more benevolent in relation to others.

Hear changes

As far as my parents are concerned, I have admired my father and then I have confronted him. I learned to love him when he was old, with his weakness and fragility. I was no longer the man I had idealized in my early years. He was human. Being able to accept it so different from the childish image I had of him allowed me a greater acceptance of my fragility and my limits, being able to show them. The time came when I was able to say "I don't know" and declare my ignorance without feeling inadequate.

I started late to appreciate my mother. She had always rejected her fear and it has been very nice to recognize her for her forms of courage — which I did not see — for the generosity with which she always supported the family, and for her loving capacity. Then came my own family. My children. With them I discovered tenderness, the capacity for care and play. I've played with them. They became an important point of reference for me — I would never have imagined it. I had them late and didn't feel ready to be a father. And instead I took care of them and liked them. It was a great transformation. I took them with me even when I worked. Since they were little they came with me and their mother to the courses of the SAT Program in Spain and we were, all, a symbol for the participants. That's what they told us. Later, thanks to my profession as a therapist, I learned to respect others — not with the formal respect I had always had, but with respect for people beyond what I consider to be their limits, the rejection I receive, or not finding them sympathetic (a principle of altruistic love). Today, even when I express my discomfort or anger, I do so from behavior, I do not devalue or offend the person, even when there is a confrontation. Working with patients and students has been a great school, and what I have learned with them I poured into life, into everyday life. In the therapeutic field I prefer a type of work that goes to the depth, but at the same time I learned to give directly, in the immediate, more permissions and more freedoms so that they are lived now. I say "it's okay like that" more and more often. I laugh at the idea of being able to do more and better. It's okay like that. I don't look so much for perfection anymore. In therapy I like to joke and tease in a good way. I often use irony, metaphor, paradox, and have fun (especially at the Teatro Transformador — another gift from Claudio Naranjo, who gave me the idea and stimulated me to realize it). Theatre is a therapeutic work in which I developed creativity and a lot of intuition. My most hidden and numb parts emerged. I let myself be guided by sensations, emotional states and a great desire to see the transformation of people; and this happens, sometimes completely unexpectedly and in a short time. I stimulate their vitality and I like what I do; I am amazed by what emerges. Finally, I recognize myself. Sometimes I become a clown, a fool, a seducer and other characters along with the other actors. I live many sensations and I feel free to express myself without shame or shame, and the permission I give myself I also transfer to them, to my actors. Obviously, the trick of theater helps me.

And then...

And then there's life and the adversities — sometimes improvise — that it brings us. Like never before, I feel like a person who lives a day. It's not literal what I'm saying, and yet it makes sense. Living up to date is about allowing things to happen without constant control. That perspectives and projects have time to organize — even alone — and take on a form that is gradually being defined. This means for me to open up and surrender to the unforeseen. The formula I use from a few years to this part with myself in times of stress is: "Get what you want to get there." Such a phrase has become a great antidote to the effort and pretension of wanting to perfect my person and the world. Most of the time I smile and feel peace, and in the moments of greatest surrender I can laugh and play with the weird things that I myself say or do. I don't care if I can sometimes seem superficial or ridiculous; It costs a lot to always be serious, capable and intelligent. Now it is really pleasant to "do paperwork" and discover that no one criticizes me, it is more, I like it and I am also nice. More and more often the Neapolitan is shown hiding behind the mask of English, a metaphor with which many years ago I presented myself at a seminar led by Claudio Naranjo, and I like to use the colorful language of my city. For some time now my mood has been changing and I move quickly from seriousness to joy or sudden fits of rage that are quickly reabsorbed. The control has decreased a lot and I feel in a moment of change. Change yet? And what? I do not know... Perhaps little and perhaps insignificant. But for me it has to do with feeling alive. In general, I feel more at peace with life and, as I said, with a deep capacity for understanding and respect for others. I like to look for the motivations of people who hurt me or hurt me. I don't think about evil, I want to know its motives. I don't like to break relationships. The greatest conquest is that I begin to reap the fruits of my meditative practice and this also passes through greater acceptance when I do not do it well. If at one time I thought I had to be perfect to be recognized and be part of this world, today I can say, "What a gift not to be; so I can grow and enjoy life!" In recent years my thinking has become volatile. Sometimes I lose the thread of what I'm saying or forget; I feel lost and then,., then I tell myself that it's okay like that, it doesn't matter, I relax and maybe I laugh. If I had to say what there is to do about my transformation, the list would be very long. But there is one thing that has particularly caught my attention. Recently, a therapist I cherish so much told me, "Make yourself protect a little, support yourself a little."

A concrete example

In mid-2007, after a hard experience that lasted for a while (an improvised and unforeseen separation while living what seemed to me a rebirth, and while I was even emotionally reorganizing my life with a new partner), I again lived a traumatic event: I discovered that I needed heart surgery to replace a valve that I had been in the aorta since 1977. for it was ruined. It was urgent. My life was at stake. I was clearly told that the risk was high given the age and in the case of an organ that had already undergone an operation. I liked the surgeon I was advised. And I surrendered. Today I feel a lot of gratitude towards him. During the time that elapsed between the diagnosis and the operation I carried out all my activities. Deep down, he was confident and almost didn't believe it; I felt serene, although at times I was afraid and thought

about a possible death. I had work commitments and didn't want to give them up. I prepared everything I needed and traveled to return just a few days before the operation. I talked to friends and also strangers about the experience I was going to have a short time later. While doing so, I was struck by the lack of reluctance. I didn't feel like an invalid — like years before, when I was ashamed that my birth defect was known: a disability whose secret had to be kept. I had surgery in the first days of June and suffered, naturally. I had my loved ones around me and let them take care of me, even if I was capricious. The postoperative recovery was quick and I didn't have any complications — which was not excluded. The doctors were very satisfied. I also attributed this very positive result to some meditation practices and a different life energy. How different from the previous experience in which, even when I was younger, my life was effectively put at stake with a viral pneumonia (due to contagion in the operating room), very strong chest pains for months, and a deep depressive state. Now none of this was happening. After a few days I was standing and already thinking about the next trip to participate in a course of the SAT Program. "Too early," the doctors told me; but my character overcame and after a month I found myself in Seville, sheltered despite the heat so as not to run the risk of cooling due to drafts. As I write this I smile. Do these kinds of risks, which I still run, have to do with unconsciousness? Madness? Did I have to go to Seville? Of course I acted under the influence of my character, but this work gives me a meaning, an enthusiasm, and I still don't want to give up. Even so, along with these characteristic forms, there are new aspects in this situation, and I consider them as part of a profound change. This experience was imbued with a subtle acceptance and serenity hitherto unknown to me in the face of such an important event. Returning to work so quickly — there in Seville — I took with me the physical and psychological limits of convalescence in an environment in which I had a relevant role and took care of the discomfort of others. I did not hide, I was fragile, for what I was at that time, and I carried out particularly deep therapeutic work. During the following months I kept this relaxed attitude and my desire to laugh and the desire for lightness that I also brought to my family developed even more. The dominant character traits have not disappeared. I am always an angry-misfit, but today I can move very quickly from a state of demand and reforming impulse to a condition of acceptance and tranquility. And this makes a big difference to me.