Category: The Work of Byron Katie

I’ve gotten a couple of questions about the masterclasses offered tomorrow as well as next week on Tuesday, especially about what kind of technology you need or how you access it. Basically, it’s like watching a TV program or a video on your computer, only I’ll be offering a slide presentation and talking, live.

When you click the link to your masterclass you’ve chosen to attend, you’ll be on your computer of course, and a new browser window will open and you’ll be connected. It’s best, I am told, if you have chrome or firefox as your browser programs on your computer.

No one will speak out loud or be identified–you can’t see who else is watching (same as a TV program). If you choose, you’ll be able to participate via chat Q & A and I’ll read your words, maybe even out loud, but I won’t identify anyone. This will be a time for you to go deeper into your own work and hopefully discover some new crack in your story that’s causing suffering. People new to The Work as well as long-time inquirers will all be participating.

There’s limited room, but you can still register here. This way you’ll receive the links to join, either Thursday (tomorrow) August 4th at 5:30 Pacific Time, or Tuesday August 9th at 8:30 am. I’d set aside 2 hours. This will be a little mini retreat for you with exercises to complete during our time together.

Phew.

There’s a lot that goes into organizing these things, and questions people have when something’s new and unfamiliar.

Sometimes, the what-how-which-when stuff….

….can drive me absolutely nuts.

Details.

Can’t the thing just work?

OK, so the people in Summer Camp already all know this (you guys are wonderfully patient, thank you–everyone was awesome).

A thing happened on Monday.

I’m traveling in Illinois and Indiana right now, and in the past several years, I’ve done a ton of on-the-road telecalls, from other countries, airports, hotel rooms, friends’ houses.

I know what’s needed: My laptop, headphones, good internet connection, and a somewhat quiet location.

I know how to find and arrange these things.

Well, so I thought.

I had arranged to arrive in Chicago and be let into a room with internet about 90 minutes before my daily Summer Camp for The Mind Inquiry call.

Except, the person who was supposed to let me in (I didn’t know them before) sent me a text she was in New York. And a friend would open the room instead.

OK. But no friend.

So 30 minutes beforehand, I realize I better go find a Starbucks (they always have good internet and my devices already recognize it). I get all set up in a Starbucks after googling the nearest one, but then can’t connect.

I ask the server.

“Oh, it’s not working right now.”

I immediately pack up my things, text my husband who has dropped me off (and is a super kind helper) and we go to the Chicago public library, a block away, because they have free internet.

Only all the meeting rooms are booked.

So we quick go to a Subway (free internet sign in the window, if you buy something). The clock is ticking. I have ten minutes now until the telecall starts.

We get all set up again, laptop plugged in, headphones plugged in. I keep getting a weird message to join the Business program of some kind. What business program?

Employees come over and peer at my screen. They never heard of this pop up message before.

Then a woman starts yelling in anger from the open bathroom door around the corner and keeps repeating “I’m 56 years old!” like she’s very offended, and there’s some kind of scuffling I can’t see and one of the employees runs out the front door of the subway wearing her green apron shouting for help.

I drop everything and leave with my cell phone into the street, following the frightened Subway employee (my husband nods Go-Go and stays to deal with collecting the computer equipment) and I dial-in to my own teleconference call–I know the number by heart–thinking we’ll do our inquiry together that way.

Only I can’t tell if anyone can hear me, and apparently they can, but no one can get themselves off mute.

Meanwhile, my husband has crossed the street, I rush behind him and we get set up in yet another coffee shop with free wifi called Dollop. Yay! We’re connected!

I email everyone to come on back, if they’ve left the call, because we’re on.

And all anyone can hear, when I speak, is the loud grunge music coming out of the ceiling speakers.

Fine. 

I cancel the call. Or should I say….the call is canceled, by forces beyond my or anyone’s control at that moment in time.

Everyone has moments like this—when you push through to the next, the next, the next thing and the intended outcome STILL does not occur.

A harping voice arises….”You should have come to Chicago a day earlier, you should have been more deliberate in your organization, you should have, you could have, you didn’t, you screwed up, you disappointed, this two-block location was a devil’s triangle, the universe had other plans and they weren’t good!”

Have you ever gone over the way something unfolded multiple times? (There are so many more threatening kinds of moments, life-changing ones, than this one–that’s for sure).

The thing about that stressed-out voice that becomes critical, is there is a Mean One and a Victim born in the moment you begin speaking that way.

Mean One rages on about how you shouldn’t have done it like that and you could have prevented that thing from going that way….

….and Victim feels awful, like a loser, sad, small, stupid.

One of the best things in the entire world for addressing this kind of internal battle of thinking you’re doing it wrong, or you’ve been done-wrong-to by your own self (or the universe)?

The Work.

Because you STOP having a dueling-banjo conversation inside, and instead you actually sit with the broad and expansive four questions.

It shouldn’t have gone that way. I could have prevented it.

Is that true?

Are you sure it shouldn’t have gone the way it did? Are you positive you could have prevented it?

No.

How do you react when you believe it shouldn’t go the way it’s going, gone the way it’s gone, and you could have done something to change it?

Filled with voices shouting, all of which oppose each other and ruminate on outcomes endlessly.

Who would you be without this story that something (in my case, the teleconference inquiry Summer Camp call) shouldn’t have gone the way it did?

Noticing there isn’t a single thing I could have orchestrated differently, even though now I’ve learned something new and I’ll probably never do it again the same way.

Who would you really, really be, in this moment now, without the belief that something shouldn’t have gone the way it did? Something painful? Something hard? Something unintended? Something disappointing?

Wow.

I immediately see the bouquet of stunning green-petaled flowers on a low wooden table nearby. I feel the quiet air of the room, and hear the air conditioner.

Now back in that scene, as I picture how it unrolled itself, without the belief it shouldn’t have gone that way?

I notice I just kept following the simple directions. Like playing a game of tennis, or volleyball, with life.

Street, cars, sounds, shops, tables, brown leather bag containing laptop, hands moving headphones in and out of plugs, looking at human faces to ask questions, hearing answers, moving to the next thing.

No one got hurt.

Trusting Reality. Maybe there were very good reasons, and I don’t even need to know them all quite yet, why that telecall should NOT have happened.

Including helping me do the best I can, and still fail, and let go of the outcome going my way.

Sometimes, these turnaround examples can be tricky, when you have something happen and you really don’t get how it could possibly be true or truer that it SHOULD have gone the way it did.

But if you don’t force or push or grind at these turnarounds, only try them on like a pair of shoes, and see if anything appears for you that makes sense….you may become very surprised.

Turnaround: It should have gone the way it did, and you could NOT have prevented it from doing so.

Right now, what I can come up with is….

1) it’s helped me get more clear on my plans when I’m away from home, and determine better how to secure a quiet spot for the work I do (better self-care). 2) I get to see that I’m not running everything (always good for the lightness of letting go. 3) I rescheduled this missed call for another Monday in August, so I’ll get to stay connected with this awesome group of inquirers for a longer period of time. 4) I’ll never forget this vortex two-block radius in Chicago of internet connection attempt and failure–it’s already making me laugh how absurd it was. 5) Coffee shops of any kind are no longer an option for telecourse facilitation, which narrows down the field and makes it far more simple.

Ooh, I like that last one. Yeah. I just saved myself a lot of time in the future potentially, googling coffee shops on maps and racing to them to connect, like in the Matrix when they have to find a ringing phone.

The new way is calmer. Avoid the public spaces, and get the meeting room completely squared away.

Follow the simple directions.

Much love,

Grace

P.S. While I could never guarantee technology-glitch freedom, I expect Thursday’s class (and Tuesday, too) to be great learning times together. Thanks for joining me.

I remember my March 2005 School for The Work.

It was a truly remarkable experience for me. Like, one of the most transformational times of my entire life.

Something in my mind cracked apart as I began to understand what it really meant to have stories….stressful stories….about being a human being. I had spent so much of my life scared and nervous.

And it wasn’t necessary.

Before going to the School and hanging out with Byron Katie, I had never really understood, even though I had read Loving What Is, what it actually meant to genuinely answer the question “Is it true?”

It occurred to me, each day that passed during those nine days in March 2005, that I could ask this question “is it true?” not only about the troubling relationships or encounters I had in my life, but also about money, my body, my family, my home, my childhood, my identity, the future….

….basically every single story I ever had.

Woah.

Then, I left.

I felt almost giddy on the airplane home. So much less fear. Like a weight had been lifted off of me about where, how, when, or what life was supposed to be like.

I realized, I didn’t know anything for sure–in a really good way! Not a scary way!

A few weeks went by.

And a few months.

Yes, I took long walks listening to the music I first heard in the School of Deva Premal (gorgeous). Yes, I connected with new friends I had just met at that school, and we talked on the phone. Yes, my life had unexpected changes that propelled me to continue my self-examination. Yes, I traded facilitation of The Work with people as often as possible at first, then a little less, then a crisis and it would be more, then a little less, then a little less, then….

It was early fall. Almost six months since that nine day school.

I saw a post come across my email announcing someone who was teaching a teleclass where everyone would be doing The Work.

I had the thought:

“Why on earth would I ever pay to take a course in The Work? It’s only four questions. I know what to do! I’ve been to the School for The Work for crying out loud.”

But even though I was then going through separation in my marriage, and my life was entirely up in the air, I just didn’t seem to get around to doing The Work all the time, like I had before.

What is that?

We know we enjoy something, we know we feel better, we know it provides awareness, or relief, or health, or greater joy.

But there’s such an urge to find, at least in me (and I’ve heard from others) an Easier Softer Way.

Sure, I’ll do The Work if I’m about to go insane, or I’m really freaking out, but if things are groovin’ along OK, then why bother?

It’s like there’s a big energy (call it ego if you like) that doesn’t want to work, doesn’t want to discover a damn thing, wants everything to be easy, wants to remain a victim or someone who is being tortured (oh the drama), and really feels threatened by the actual loss of Story Power.

I say Story Power because oooooh, doesn’t a great story have amazing power to make you laugh, cry, snort, sob, howl, release, feel excited?

I love stories! Stories are so awesome!

However…NOT when I forget they’re stories, and NOT when they appear to be frightening stories. (I don’t go to horror movies, I just invent them in my mind).

As I watched this phenomena within myself take place of moving in and out of stories, taking something very seriously, taking something personally, feeling conflict….

….I noticed some interesting patterns.

There were three typical ways I’d stop doing The Work, and start thinking obsessively instead.

They came out of believing the following concepts to be very, very true. So true, I couldn’t answer the four questions anymore. I was busy!

1) I need more information

Oh boy. Have you ever had this idea?

I need to study, gather, ask tons of questions, read, analyze, get more data, figure out who did it, how it happened, and if I did something wrong. I have to figure this out, map it out, explain it. I have to find out what’s worked for other people, or not worked, I have to see if anything terrible has ever happened to anyone who answered the questions. Must. Get. More.

(This can keep you very busy, very distracted, very active for a lifetime. Just saying. Not that I would know about it).

2) I can do it by myself

Relying on other people is such a pain! Anything worth doing has to be done because I want to, not anyone else. Yeah, that’s right! Don’t I have to do most things by myself, anyway? Shouldn’t I be able to figure life out on my own? I mean, really. Come on. Depending on others for help is a major hassle. I prefer independence.

(I don’t know about you, but this kept me from going to therapy for several years even though I was a wreck, kept me from joining scary support groups, and kept me from being authentically honest with other humans, and kept me from asking for help.

And, oh yeah, from doing The Work thoroughly and deeply. When on my own, I did The Work in five minutes. While driving.)

3) I’d rather forget than face my fears

This one isn’t always up front in consciousness, because the very nature of this thought is to stay murky, and avoid and make sure no matter what, the scary vision is not faced.

I would act like I wanted to look and examine things directly, but gosh, I have errands to run, movies to watch, work to do, money to count or earn, dishes to wash. It’s so uncomfortable to look at these inner painful thoughts and situations from the past. Can’t we just forget about it all? I don’t want to get too stirred up!

These efforts to Not See would show up in various forms and activities repeatedly.

I even started recognizing different small patterns. Call them fog, or smog, as I’ve heard Byron Katie refer to confusion or lack of clarity.

Today, I’d love to hear from you. But only if you’ve ever noticed something sticky, or a barrier, or fog entering your vision.

Why?

Because I’m putting together a masterclass on a whole myriad of ways I’ve found the trickster mind, or ego, or self-centered identity, try to move away from The Work (or any kind of peace and rest, in any situation).

I find this impulse incredibly fascinating, and I’ve discovered that shining a light on it has brought a deep awareness.

Have you felt like The Work doesn’t work for you sometimes? Have you noticed how the funny mind has a whole commentary about questioning thought? Have you laughed at how goofy it is that you bump up against the very same issues over and over again?

If you would be so kind to say a few words in this survey, I’ll know to address whatever you share in the classes in early August.

It would be so wonderful if you would take only 4 minutes to answer one question about your experience with The Work (it’s anonymous): Click Here

The things you don’t work, I call them the Underworld. Because without those worked, [ego] overrides awareness. Like smog. Dirty water you can’t see through. Unfinished business…..The ego loves Yeah, but….” ~ Byron Katie during Being With Byron Katie 2016

Today, eleven years after that first School for The Work, I’m still learning almost daily. I find this stunning. I love The Work more than I once did, I think. How very odd. You would think I’d have gotten bored by now, considering my busy brain.

But it’s a phenomenal adventure, letting go of the personal identity and need to argue with reality, or with life….and opening up to more love than I ever thought possible.

Can’t wait to hear more about your apparent “problems” and play with the “solutions” to really “getting” this work. My favorite.

Much love, Grace

P.S. Even though I accidentally sent a link to the upcoming August masterclasses a wee bit early the other day, I wasn’t quite ready with it yet. Ugly registration page! I’ll be sure to keep you posted so you can sign up at the end of next week. And if You DID sign up, we got you covered (you’re in).