So I thought, "OK, Jo can't grumble and gripe. Where is it that she can't, because I want to learn how to not do it there?" I started asking her questions: "When do you do it?" "What is its purpose?" "Who do you do it with?" My questions go backwards in time. Starting with the problem, I backed up the process she goes through. When I backed her up far enough, she got to the place before she grumbled and griped, and before she even felt any inclination to do it. That is the place where she can go around it. If she takes the next step, the "problem" starts happening. But if she steps over to the side, she can go somewhere else that she likes better.
Jo goes into a restaurant, sits down, gets bad service, feels horrible, confronts the waitress, gets good service later and still feels bad. I asked, "Did it ever occur to you when you go into a restaurant and discover who your waitress is, to make her feel good?" She said, "I can't do that after I feel bad," and she's probably right. OK, why not do it right away all the time whenever you go into a restaurant, so you never get a chance to feet bad? That question directs her attention to an earlier time, when it's easy to do something different, and it also gives her something very specific to do differently.
Here's one you've all done. You come home feeling realty good. As you walk in the front door you see the living room is a mess, or someone forgot to take out the garbage, or you see that something else equally absolutely essential to your happiness is awry. You get angry inside, and frustrated; you suppress it and try to not feel angry and frustrated, but it doesn't work. So you go into therapy and you say, "I don't want to yell at my wife." "Why do you yell at your wife?" "Because I get frustrated and angry." Most clinicians will say, "Let it all out; express yourself; yell and scream at your wife." And to the wife they'll say, "Isn't it all right if he yells and screams at you? Can't you let him be himself?" You do your thing, and he'll do his ... separately. That's nuts,
What most clinicians don't think about is that when he walks in the door and sees that mess, he first manages to get to the state where he's angry and frustrated, and then he tries to stop himself from getting angry and frustrated. The other thing they forget is what he's frying to accomplish by stopping himself from yelling at her in the first place: he's trying to get things to be pleasant. Well, why not go for it directly? Why not have the front door send him off into such pleasant thoughts about what he can do with his wife that he goes through the living room too fast to care about noticing anything else!
Whenever I say, "How about doing something before you feel so bad?" the client always looks stunned. It doesn't occur to him to back up. He always thinks that the only way he can make himself happy is to do what he wants exactly at the moment that he wants it. Is that the only way? It must be. The universe doesn't go backwards. Time won't go backwards. Light won't go backwards. But your mind can go backwards.
Typically clients will either not understand what I said at all, or will say, "I can't just do that!" It sounds too easy. So I found out I had to make them do it. They couldn't back up themselves, because they couldn't stop going where they were going. So I learned to ask them questions that would force them to go backwards, Often they fight me tooth and nail. They'll try to answer one question, and I insist that they answer another one to back them up another step.
When I get to the right point with a client, I ask a question that moves sideways and forward, and he goes forward again in the new direction. After that he can't stop going in the new direction. He's as stuck that way as the other, but he doesn't care because he likes being stuck that way. It works just like a spring: you compress it, and when you pull the lever over and release it, it flicks forward again.
As soon as someone finds one of those places, he says, "Oh, I've changed. Let's go on now." It's so nonchalant. "How do you know you've changed?" "I don't know. It doesn't matter. It's different now." But Jo is still propelling forward on the new path. I've been testing her repeatedly. And she can't get back there to the other one now because it's too late.
I do this simply by presupposing that what is getting in her way is worth having, and all I need to do is find out where to use it. So, I take the behavior Jo is uncomfortable about — confronting — and take that back to before she even thinks about confronting. The same forces that used to drive her to confront and be uncomfortable about it will now compel her into another behavior.
What we have explored here with Jo is a common pattern in marriage. You want something from him, but he doesn't give it to you. So you feel bad. Then you tell him how bad you feel, hoping he'll be concerned enough to give it to you.
There are times when you don't get what you want from someone else. But when you don't get what you want, feeling bad is extra! Did you ever think of that? First you don't get what you want, and then you have to feel bad for a long time because you didn't get it. And then you have to feel bad to try to get it again. If you feel good, then you can just go back to that person and say, "Hey, you. Do you want to do this for me?" If you do that with a cheerful tone of voice, you're much more likely to get it, and without any future repercussions.
The greatest error of all is in thinking that the only way for you to feel good in certain situations is for someone else to behave in a certain way. "You must behave the way I want you to, so I can feel good, or I'm going to feel bad and stand around and make you feel bad too." When he is not there to behave in that way, then there's nobody to make you feel good. So you feel bad. When he comes back, you say, "You were not here to have these behaviors to make me feel good, so I want you to feel bad now. I want you to be here all the time. No more bowling; don't go away for the weekend and go fishing; don't go to college; don't go to seminars; be here all the time. I can go away because I have a good time when I do, but when I come home you have to be here to make me feel good. If you love me you will do what I want, because when you don't do it, I feel bad, because I love you." Bizarre, huh? But that's how it works. And in a way, it's true. You sit there by yourself and you do feel bad. "If that person were here doing this, I'd feel good. What the hell's the matter with him?" Of course, if he's there and he's not willing to do it, that's even worse! People seldom stop and say, "Hey, what's going to be important to someone else?" It's even rarer that someone asks himself, "What could I do that would make her want to do this for me?"
If you feel inside you that when you don't get a certain amount of time from him, at the specified moment, then it's time to feel bad . . . and if you measure that bad feeling and you visualize him and connect that bad feeling with his face, then when he comes back and you see his face, you get to feel bad when he is there! That is amazing! Not only do you get to feel bad when he is not there; you also get to feel bad when he comes back! That doesn't sound like fun, does it? It's not fair to you to live that way.
And if he feels guilty about being gone, and he pictures what it will be like to come back to you, he will connect the feeling of guilt to the sight of your face. Then when he comes back and sees you, he will feel guilty again, and he won't want to be there either. These are the meta–patterns of obligation. They are both based on one tremendous error: the idea that marriage is a personal debt.
If you ask people what they want, they usually talk about wanting what they don't have, rather than what they already do have. They tend to ignore and take for granted what they already have and enjoy, and only notice what is missing.