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Exploring the ENNEAGRAM

— exploring yourself

inner work

Wants, needs, and levels of balance — what “psychological maturity” looks like

Inner growth, Levels of Development

A while back, I explored Don Riso’s “Levels of Development” in the free, IEA-hosted “Monthly LIVE” offering together with Rezzan Huseyin. One question that came up was around wants and needs — do they go away at the healthy levels, or change? Is detachment from wants and needs what we’re after in our strive for balance and diminished ego-identification? When I thought about it afterwards, I realised I wanted to probe a bit deeper into the topic than we had time for in the presentation.

The short answer is no, they do not go away. This is easy to see if we focus on very basic needs, such as nourishment and sleep, or even oxygenated air to breathe. If we go without the latter for more than a few minutes, we pass out; if conditions persist, the body dies. It does not matter if you are spiritually enlightened, or if you are wiped clean of any trace of neurosis; you will still suffocate if the body cannot breathe. The same goes for other physical needs; as long as we have a physical body, they come with the territory.

But something does shift when we live from the healthy levels, and this shift definitely seems to affect wants and needs, too. So what is that about? I can think of two important things that characterise the healthy levels and which affect how we experience and express our wants and needs. And as it happens, one of them has to do with what we experience, and the other with how we express it. Let’s start with the latter.

Expressing wants and needs in healthy vs average levels

As you can read more about in a previous article, in the average range, we have less distance to (i e, a stronger identification with) the ego. This means whatever we feel, think or experience, we will tend to see as mirroring absolute reality — and usually, whatever we feel, think or experience also has a generous amount of interpretations and conclusions that we also tend to view as How Things Are. More often than not, this includes the notion that it’s someone else’s job to satisfy our needs.

The history of wants and needs — how expression got derailed

This idea has its roots in early childhood, when it really was someone else’s job. From infancy and quite a few years on, humans are designed to develop relying on caregivers to supply sustenance, safety and guidance. But usually, while the majority of us got that (albeit of varying quality and to a varying degree), we did not get a very good education on how to take over this job ourselves. Our parents could not teach what they themselves did not learn, and so it follows that generation after generation learns to use various ways of manipulation, assertion and/or placating (of others, authorities, or “God”) to get their needs met. In short, we never really, fully, grew up.

Whether you agree with this perspective or not, you might find that you have not always communicated your wants and needs in a balanced manner. Maybe you haven’t said anything at all, and then felt misunderstood, neglected, or frustrated when your needs were not met. Or perhaps you were taught that expressing needs was selfish, so you learned to hint heavily instead of asking directly. Maybe you learned to state your demands loudly and make enough of a nuisance out of yourself that others accommodated you out of sheer self-preservation. We have all kinds of distortions to expressing what we need.

Relationships — the barometer of how we’re doing

By the time we get into various adult relationships, we usually have our style (which is likely to be heavily influenced by our Enneagram type, although which level we are operating from will still vary) worked out. Typically, we attract partners and friendships with what me and a friend once minted “compatible neuroses” — that is, people who have previous experience of our own brand of imbalanced expression and who themselves offer their brand, familiar to us, in return. It’s often said that communication is the number one factor in how healthy a relationship is, and usually, this communication tends to fail most miserably in the department of wants and needs. And all of this hinges on our identification with the ego; our belief that what we see and perceive is an objective view of what’s happening. Spoiler alert: it’s not 😉.

When ego-identifcation lifts, something shifts

When we come into the healthy range, we say there is a “shift in ego-identification”. This can sound like a lofty and abstract concept, but what it means is, among other things, that I do not automatically assume that my views, perceptions, conclusions, or experiences are proof of a wider truth than my own experience. Thus, when I have a want or need, this informs me that I have a want or need, and that I would prefer to have it satisfied. It does not automatically mean, however, that it is your job to do this. You might have your own wants and needs that contradict mine, in the moment or longer term.

But the next “however” is that I do not necessarily let this prevent me from asking. Bottling up our wishes is just another way of trying to escape owning them. Instead, if my preference includes you in some way, I can express it, hoping you will comply but still accepting your right to say no. This way, I can be true to myself without stopping you being true to yourself, too, as my true experience is only my want, not your obligation. And if this is not a good time for you to help grant my wish, I am free to find another way. But if we’ve chosen to be together, chances are that you still appreciate being asked.

The experience of wants and needs

As I mentioned above, there’s also another side to this, though: what we experience in the first place. What are in fact the needs we have been taking about so far? Obviously, if we consider those we typically would express (or not) to a partner or friend, they would not generally be about fresh air or basic sustenance, but rather more intangible things: support, a listening ear, tokens of affection, space to be alone, encouragement, pauses in the communication, stimulation, emotional intimacy; that category of things. So will those be the same on the healthy levels as they were in the average range?

Ego-identified needs: a direct transmission

Again, in the stronger ego-identification of the average range, wants and needs are perceived as more urgent. (Actually, a fair share of what would technically fall in the “want” category is frequently perceived to be in the more critical “need” category, and since I transferred my agency to you — courtesy of, possibly unconsciously, expecting you to take care of me — I also don’t really feel I any way of satisfying it myself) . And even if we just sweep them all into the same box, in the average range, we are less able to experience, sit with or look at our perceived needs before demanding that they be met, however we attempt to do that. It is like we can’t quite see ourselves and our own role in the equation, but instead, when a felt need arises, mentally regress to the stage of a three-year-old and immediately projects the agency onto someone else and expect them to take care of it.

Healthy level needs-awareness:
the ability to be with it

On the healthy levels, because of the diminished identification, there is more of a gap between the experience of a lack/want/need and attempting to address it. There is more space around the experience, some energetic wriggle room, which makes us able to perceive it for what it is. This could mean sitting with it in meditation or other inner work practices, but it could also just mean a natural ability to let a beat or two pass while we probe a step deeper and feel into what it is really about. It is not a big, complicated affair, but rather an increased capacity naturally establishing as our identification loosens.

When this happens, we might find that the “need” for a piece of chocolate was actually a feeling of dehydration and us wanting a glass of water, or the need for a few deep breaths, or wanting a hug and some help grounding ourselves. If any of the things we really find ourselves wanting is something that someone else can provide, we are in the scenario described above, where we can ask with an open mind and heart. And if not, or if there is no one to ask, or if the person we asked said no, we can still explore other ways to get the deeper need met. We can choose more freely, and we do not unwittingly cancel our own agency by handling the problem over to someone else and expecting them to solve it.

So, are the wants and needs in fact the same?

Now, coming back to the question of whether wants and needs change at the healthy levels, the answer is both yes and no. It’s no in the sense that they really were no different at the average levels, we just perceived them differently — and mostly, we expected them to be met from the outside and were thus left feeling insecure, frustrated, helpless, vulnerable, angry, deficient, lost, alone, or other uncomfortable emotions as a result.

But it’s also yes, in the sense that it is now easier for us to see our needs for what they are. We can put them in perspective — it’s clear to us they are not quite as urgent as they might initially have felt, and we can see how the need or want first perceived masks something else.

So wants, needs, problems, challenges and life lessons in general do not stop just because we achieve greater psychological balance. But our ways of experiencing them, being with them, and addressing them do. How that manifests in your particular case, only you will be able to find out. If you want to explore what different levels feel like and how you can navigate your inner growth in relation to them, please check out the online course Exploring, climbing and experiencing the Levels of Develpment starting September 4:th ❤️

You can get lost in the light, too — mind the #1 spiritual bypass

Inner growth, Instinctual drives

Where inner growth is concerned, the point surely is weeding out darkness, airing out what’s been bottled up and increasingly dwell in the light — yes? Weeeell. As it turns out, hiding out in “the light” and chastising itself from there a favourite pastime for the ego.

Of course, this may not be news exactly. But yet, I encounter people who have been on the path towards inner growth, psychological balance and deepening spiritual maturity for years and years, and I still see them fall into this trap. And the trap basically reads: mental clarity and realisation in the head centre, allowing and befriending what emerges from the heart centre, and watching-from-a-distance and being-careful-not-to-trust-it-entirely when it comes to the instinctual realm. And the really slippery bit is, we do not even necessarily realise that it is instinctual material we are shunning; often, we believe it to be “old thought patterns” or “emotional pitfalls” that we opt not to go into because we “already know what it is”.

The instinctual realm, however, constitutes a BIG part of what true inner work is about. For many years, I facilitated experiential courses that were largely about navigating and finding your way into — and onwards with — the invaluable properties that are found there. Leaving each time, people had new-found strength, ability to both say yes and no, access to whether they wanted to say yes or no, a deeper sense of self-compassion, and overall a truer relationship to themselves and who they were. And that wasn’t just what we in the faculty believed — they said as much, in endorsement after endorsement. And it was as rewarding to guide them through it as it was glorious to watch the result.

The gut and the instinctual realm — always and forever the base

Obviously, we did heart and mind work, too. And as I said above, often this material is intertwined and will have to be addressed in tandem. But without a solid foundation in the gut, we are going to build our insights and realisations on feeble ground, and whatever we find will be easily washed away as soon as these forgotten aspects of ourselves suddenly cry out for attention. And trust me — at some point, they will.

I regularly come across people saying, “Oh, you’re a gut type, sure that would be your take on things. But see, I’m a heart (or head) type, so I need to do it differently.” This, however, is not strictly true. In fact, it’s multiple shades of wrong. First off, our centre triad tells us what we are over-identifying with. So sure, your over-identification with the heart might have you leaning towards paths of the heart, and over-identification might have you leaning towards theories, reasoning and cognitive understanding rather than grounding practices. And sure, as a type from the instinctual centre, I might like “physical stuff”. However, an over-identification with the instinctual centre is not necessarily advocating for grounding practices, either. As as Eight, I want to use my body for stuff, and it’s not like my ego screams for me grounding myself in Being. As a One, I often want to keep the body in check, so again, I might gravitate towards physical exercises — but they sure as heck won’t be about embracing my instinctual impulses and build a stronger awareness of them. As a Nine I like to hang out in the body, but mostly as a tool for zoning out and taking off on the next bus to Daydream Land. My point is, “belly types” aren’t necessarily doing what we need to be doing with our bodies. Often it only looks that way.

When it only looks that way

So, everyone needs grounding for any inner work to be meaningful. This is also illustrated by one of my favourite distinctions: the one between choosing on the one hand and knowing what you want on the other. As an Eight, and a sexual Eight at that, it’s usually easy for me to choose. “You always know what you want” is something I’ve heard more times than I care to remember. And for a long time I believed that was true. Then I realised that choosing from a given set of alternatives is not the same as knowing what you want — not coming from a given set of options, but from you.

With me, it looked like I knew, but that was primarily because I often wanted something to happen, and it was relatively easy to me to choose what to do next in order to accomplish that. However, none of that meant that I’d actually checked in with myself, deeply, as to what I really wanted. I chose within the confines of what I deemed doable in the circumstances. Don’t get me wrong, I had great faith (bordering on hubris) in my abilities. But I wasn’t going to really delve into my heart’s desires, lest they were actually out of reach for me — as that would mean dipping into my vulnerability … er, no thanks. So my “wants”, rather than being the true raw features of the gut that real desire is, were diluted, weighed and strategically moderated by my ego before I even knew about them.

Life grows from the ground up

But I digress. My point is that my preference for instinctual awareness, for starting from the roots, do not stem from “being a belly type”. It stems from two major understandings: That everyone has to build presence in each of the three centres (at least, let’s call them three for now), and that any real growth starts from the ground. Whatever type we are, as long as our aim is to grow our awareness while still in a physical body, we all need a stable foundation, grounded in our bodies. Of course, we can pick and choose and blend the formats of our practice, but when it’s all said and done, any progress in the heart or mind won’t really blossom if there are no roots.

Fear of the dark: it’s not just for children

Surprisingly often, though, and in many cases even while paying lip service to non-duality or the importance of a well-rounded self-awareness, people shun the dark. They have discovered the futility of various ego agendas and perhaps been plagued by the anxiety, depression, anger, self-doubt, and whatever else has come from those — and they’ve had enough. “I know it’s bulls*it, I know it’s only mind games, so I just do not buy into it when I find myself thinking [violent/self-demeaning/destructive] thoughts.” “I know this old feeling is just a symptom of [my lack of self-esteem/an ‘insignificant’ loss/my old would playing up], so I distract myself until it passes. It serves no real purpose anyway.” And that’s totally reasonable, right?

As it turns out — no, not entirely. In fact, not at all. Because as long as the thought or feeling or desire is back, and even if only one tiny speck of your system believes it, you haven’t, in fact, dealt with it. You and that belief, fear, emotion, or whatever it is, are not done yet. Now, some people will in fact be “done” enough that the old programme is immediately seen through and not bought into even a little bit — but if this is truly the case for you, neither will it make you feel any kind of bad, stressed out, depressed, or anything else on the negative side if you hang out with it for a while.

Spiritual bypass by means of light

And this is where the bypass-possibility comes in. At some point in the percentages, we convince ourselves that our remaining investment in a certain thought, fear or concept is so small that it’s more or less gone from our system. At that point, it might start feeling beneath us to even explore it. I mean, we don’t really believe it any longer. At least not when asked about it.

But the interesting question is not what we believe when asked, but what we believe judging by our dreams, by our semi-concious fears and worries, by our spontaneous reactions, or by the thoughts that come to the surface after a couple of sleepless nights, or after a nasty fight, or along with a bad hangover or in other situations where the ego’s resilience is temporarily knocked out. What then? That is where we meet some of the stuff we’ve shoved into the darkness.

The advanced course

When that happens — when we have a moment of weakness and temporarily buy into an old fear or arrogance or belief again — that is actually a precious gift. (Sure, it doesn’t feel like one at the time, but take that as confirmation.) Because, by now in our inner progress, where we currently stand in our level of awareness, this old issue hardly ever comes up. But it still lingers somewhere in our psyche, and this temporary lapse of inner gate-keeping sheds light on this fact.

So next time an issue resurfaces that you thought you dealt with for the last time, don’t take this as a sign you are not as far along as you might have thought. It might just as well be a sign that you’ve entered into the advanced course without realising it! Or, of course, you might not be as far along as you thought. 😉 … but the point is, it does not matter. In any case, the appropriate response is taking a moment to yourself, breathing and going into the issue, not running from it or flat-out denying it as you have “been there, done that”.

And by the way, the idea of “how far along” we are is an ego construct, and a rather inane one, too. To properly evaluate this, even in theory, would require that we know how where someone started, what terrain they have travelled, as well as how far they have yet to go— and since at least one of these parameters is always unknown, even for ourselves, the declaration is meaningless.

So is “the dark” just the work we’ve yet to do?

Most people will, in theory at least, agree to the above when it’s pointed out to them. But it doesn’t end there. Darkness or shadows, as opposed to light, are not signs of imperfection, or flaws, or evil, or even “work to be done”. Darkness is the other side of light. It is, in fact, absolutely necessary for “light” to even mean something. And existentially, it is our animal nature, our roots, our origins as earthly creatures. Neither foetuses nor seeds sprout in the light. They take hold, grow, and develop in the darkness of the soil, of the womb, of the origin of matter. As long as we exist in a world of duality — meaning, as long as we are alive in a physical body — dark is as essential as light. And it does not equal “the bad”; it equals fertility. It equals life. Because yes, life needs light. But it also needs darkness.

We are dual beings. Yes, Being is non-dual, but we, in our human existence, are compounds of light and darkness, subtlety and weight, energy and mass, animal nature and higher consciousness. This seems to be our distinguishing feature. And by emphasising the light and shying away from the soft, infinite, darkness of potentiality, we rob ourselves of half the heritage of what makes us human. Which by any yardstick would have to be what we are here to explore, would it not? So do not shy away.

“Nothing human is alien to me”

The Roman African playwright Publius Terentius Afer, in some countries better known as Terence, is perhaps best known for the quote Homo sum, humani nihil a me alienum puto, or “I am human, and I think nothing human is alien to me”. I have no idea whether this man put the empire’s coins where his mouth was, but the quote always spoke volumes to me. If anything human is indeed still foreign to me, I still have work to do. And if we are talking about a human aspect that I am intimately acquainted with, then it will keep showing up within me until I familiarise myself with it.

But that is where it gets tricky. Obviously, “familiarising” ourselves does not mean indulging each and every impulse that that comes along. And as humans, if we know (or suspect or just decide) that an impulse is not going to be acted upon, we tend to prefer to ignore it as best we can. This can look like “choosing not to indulge” certain patterns of thought, certain desires, and/or certain feelings supported by the rationalisation that we “know what they are” and they “just bring misery anyway”. So we suppress them.

But, as I said, if they do make an entrance, it means, quite obviously, that they are still there. They remain in our system, waiting to be acknowledged. “Familiarising ourselves” means being interested in them. Zooming in, rather than out and away. Being curious. Realising that the only way we’ll get where we want to go is by allowing nothing human to be alien to us — or, at the very least, no aspects of humanness plainly pertaining to ourselves. How can we heal, and grow, and flourish, unless we bring all of ourselves? The concept of weeding stuff out by pushing it down only has it seep out in other (and usually more uncomfortable, expensive, and/or dangerous) ways.

Buried treasures in the darkness

So we need to also venture into the “darkness”. And when we do so — with curiosity and devoid of any judgement — we find that it contains so much more than the less-palatable parts of ourselves that we shoved in there because that was the only way we could handle them at the time. We find rest. We find healing. We find unknown potential, fertile ground, and an indefinite power to grow. And most of all, we get a three-dimensional world, with highlights, shadows, depth and perspective. And all these treasures are buried here, mixed in with our fears, anxieties, frustrations, rage, and innermost wounding. It is all part of the same package, and the only way to access them is to open it.

We do not have to dive in, expose ourselves to all of it at once, to get it over with “once and for all”. In fact, this is not even possible (at least not unless we involve mind-altering substances, which has been known to happen). That, of course, does not stop people from trying. There are courses designed to provoke your strongest defences, only to let them crash and burn to reveal your true, most vulnerable and helpless self. To some people, that sounds like a good idea. Rip off the plaster, swallow the medicine in one gulp, get the discomfort out of the way, “Bring it on, I can take it!”

The body knows —
and just like that, we’re back to instinct

But you know, that’s not such a good idea. Sure, you might break through some of the defences then and there by this war-fashion approach. You might also re-traumatise yourself quite severely, or if not that, still have your shattered defences quickly rally to build an even stronger fortress for your biggest hurts, making it harder yet to coax then into awareness, allowing them within you, befriending them and eventually releasing any constrictions they bring with them.

In my experience, awareness goes a long, long way towards releasing us from destructive patterns and things that constrict or limit us. But it’s important to know what awareness means in this context. It does not mean mental understanding. Usually such understanding follows at some point (although there are exceptions), but this awareness starts way deeper. It’s absolutely imperative that we let the body guide the way, that we respect when it’s enough for now, that we explore with self-compassion and curiosity, and that we do not judge ourselves for what we find. If we can allow whatever “dark” material to be part of us in this way, we provide the means for it to continue on its journey. Sometimes, that means evaporating into nothing. At other times, it morphs into a strength or skill. There’s no telling what will happen to it, and it is not our choice. We can just create the opportunity, allow, open the door, and stay present. When we do, untold magic can occur — all thanks to the darkness ❤️.

PS — By the way, the light is fantastic, too. But they need each other. For life in a human body, choosing only one of either of these is where the trouble starts 😉.

Moving to higher ground — utilising the concept of the Levels of Development

Enneagram, Levels of Development

The “Levels of Development” within the Enneagram always made sense to me — in theory. When I first encountered them (which was basically when I discovered the work of Don Riso and Russ Hudson, which was quite soon after discovering the Enneagram overall more than 20 years ago), they lifted a flat system into three-dimensionality.

Moreover, in a way, they also identified 81 different ways of operating, rather than just 9 (and that was before accounting for things like wings and instinctual preferences, which obviously broaden the scope even more). They made the Enneagram model feel authentically human. All really juicy things … except I couldn’t seem to nail down my centre of gravity; the level that I was defaulting back to. When I tried, it was a bit like trying to grasp a soap in water: extremely slippery.

The levels falling into place

In 2005, after I did part 3 of my training with the Enneagram institute (ergo, at the time, Don Riso and Russ Hudson), it fell into place. It clicked for me how we can really identify a centre of gravity, despite recognising multiple levels and sometimes feeling like we act from all of them within a day, or even simultaneously. It was like I had understood what to look for, where to direct my attention, and what to disregard. Now, it would be convenient indeed if I could go on to tell you exactly how this happened, but unfortunately I can’t. It was one of those things that just integrates naturally when you have reached a critical mass of experience and understanding — after which you really don’t get what was so unclear before.

But the beautiful thing is we don’t have to know exactly where our centre of gravity is to do or inner work. We can just pick and choose the practices that help us evolve, engage in these practices, and voilà — we grow. That said though, it’s sometimes hard to tell what really helps, and what just has us going in circles. And occasionally, a practice that feel like its helping in fact just offers nifty little ways to avoid facing that which we need to face 😉.

Letting our Level guide the way

Also, when our personality type is not taken into account, of course advice or practices that help one person can be toxic to someone else. We need to take our personality into consideration — but also, we need to find practices that work for the levels of ego-identification we are currently grappling with. But when we do that, it’s more interesting what Level we are currently coming from than where our general centre of gravity is located.

Because even though we have such a “centre of gravity”, we also fluctuate in the levels throughout our everyday week, day, or sometimes even hour. Things happen in the outside world that affect not our psychological maturity and ego-identification in the long run, but the psychological maturity and ego-identification we are operating from in this moment. And that might be a lot easier for us to nail down than our current centre of gravity — especially in retrospect when we reflect back on our day or week. To this end, it is immensely valuable to orientate ourselves on the vertical axis of the Levels “on purpose” so that when crap hits and the ego launches a hard campaign, we’re ready.

Growth guidance

Because of this — and because the Enneagram world is shock full of type descriptions and tests but doesn’t offer a lot of resources that actually guide us towards growth — I put together a booklet on “climbing the levels” — that is, cultivating presence, lessening the grip of automatic ego-pilot and personality fixations in a way that takes into account what tends to work on a particular level. The booklet is a compact piece in that it’s only just over 13 000 words, but it contains high calibre suggestions for inner work, as well as brief descriptions of the levels themselves. 

Since the suggestions don’t so much cover what material to work on (as that would be specific to type, and even more so, to the individual), but rather what type of exercises and approaches might be more helpful on which level, there are also reminders of which sort of fears and desires are likely to feature for a certain personality type at a specific level.

Should you want to really dive into this material experientially, you might want to check out the interactive online course Exploring, climbing and experiencing the Levels of Development starting September 4:th and running for 10 Sundays. In this course, we will explore each level relevant to inner work in turn, and we will look at what modes and formats best addresses the issues at each level. (The booklet is included in the course, and if you have it already and want to sign up, send me a message and ask for a personal discount link!)

Let’s see what emerges …

Also, it’s highly likely that I will put together an online course or individual session program (or both) to match the booklet , depending on the interest. Stay tuned (perhaps by registering a free membership on lyckowbackman.se) — and, if you like, do get cracking with the booklet! 😊❤️

Unseen treasures and forgotten keys — thoughts about lame uses for the Enneagram

Enneagram, Types and typing

The way lots of people treat the Enneagram today feels to me like the equivalent of returning to a grocery store over and over, in order to develop your skills in naming and identifying every last article in there and knowing exactly where to find each one. Sure, you can to that — but it’s not what the grocery store is for, and you will eventually starve. To live, you need to move on from mere identification to actually purchasing the foods, taking them home, and letting them nourish you.

Sadly, it seems like the larger Enneagram conversation has become more and more about identifications and definitions, and less about actual integration. With social media and online activities comes increased reach, which is fantastic. However, with the same batch of gifts we also get fluff. On Youtube and Facebook, the fluff of the Enneagram — people asking what type others (strangers!) think they might be, tell others (still strangers) what type they believe they are, or endlessly discussing what this or that teacher says and whether this means one of them is wrong — is rife.

The other day, for what I think is the first time ever in 22 years of studying and living with the Enneagram model, I did a YouTube search just for “Enneagram”, to see what came up. And basically, what came up was an never-ending row of descriptions. Lightweight as well as fuller-depth, brief as well as more extensive. Of the types overall, of Enneagram types in movies/books/history, of high/low sides of [insert your type of choice], and on and on and on. Interviews, illustrations, funny bits. So, types. 

Of course, learning about the types is important. If we don’t learn about the types, the model makes no sense. But on either side of that are two other very important areas, which, once you’ve got the basic  type-descriptions in place, is where the magic happens. 

These two areas are so important, they will get their own headline.

The two Very Important Areas

One is learning about the model as a whole. What “type” means and defines, and what it doesn’t. How wings, arrows, groups and developmental levels matter — and how they don’t. Because the question is seldom whether, but in what way; at what plane. But often, people are so eager to collect information about the Enneagram and its types that they forgot to find out what this information means. (I’ve written about this before, in posts like Did you only learn it, or did you actually get it? The importance of zooming out, A bunch of characteristics or an energetic climate — some thoughts on traits, behaviours and type descriptions and When the Enneagram presence runneth over — the challenges and gifts of expanded reach, among others.)

And the other — the most important thing without which none of the other stuff helps even a little bit — is learning about ourselves. What resonates and how; what that means, what it doesn’t mean. What the truth is beneath our masks, strategies, rationalisations, and urges. Who we are, at our deepest core, and who we’re not; what’s actually us and what is mostly our vehicle for transport here on Earth, the interface via which we interact with the world. All this, and so much more.

Enneagram life outside of the VIAs

Without insights into these two areas, the Enneagram becomes little more than a party trick — a cool system for quickly getting insights into a person and their motivations. (That is, this is what it could be in theory; however, becoming a good enough “stand-up Enneagram typist” would likely in reality require quite a bit of knowledge about these two areas, too. So the likely use for the Enneagram at said hypothetical party would probably be more like telling cool anecdotes about someone else’s uncanny ability to quickly suss out these things.)

Of course, I don’t know what the posters of such fluff on social media do with the Enneagram when they’re at home; how deeply they delve within themselves. But my guess is, if it were at all deep, they would post about other things online 😎.

This state of affairs sometimes frustrates me. Wake up!!! I want to yell to these posters — who have quite possibly just never been shown what the Enneagram can be; what insights it really has to offer once we get past the initial, typology-related fascination. I want to point them to where the real fascination is to be had. Unfortunately, though, that place is inside of them — and the willingness to go there, stop, breathe and find out about oneself really has to come from within. So then I remember that my job — rather than make everyone see it my way, which is of course tempting 😉 — is to keep posting stuff, creating content and offering courses for those who do want this inner exploration and true Enneagram insight, and trust that whoever is meant to find it will. (Are you someone who just did, and want to find more? Please register for a free membership and access to the Members’ area.)

Because these things — the two Very Important Areas — continue to inspire and fascinate me, and fuel my love for the Enneagram. So if you want to explore, experience and excavate the deepest truths about yourself, together with some of what this model means — all against the backdrop of type awareness and insights about their dynamics, but not in abstract theorizing about them — I think we’ll get along just swimmingly 😊❤️

Identifying and neutralising the inner critic

Inner growth

“The inner critic”, the superego or our “internal judge” have been given many names throughout history. It is the aspect of us that judges, criticises, questions, has opinions and routinely rains on parades and raises self-doubt. But what is this critic, how can we identify it, and most importantly, how do we get out from under the criticism?

Our inner critics don’t all sound alike. They focus on different things, too, based on our childhood experiences and our personality types. For some people, it stands out clearly and sounds just like you would imagine that a critic would. It speaks in the second person — you should … or, now you’re doing that thing again … or why can’t you ever think things through/shut up/say what you think/tidy up/relax? In others, though, it might be more sneakily disguised.

Different inner critic-cloaks

For some people, the inner critic doesn’t so much focus on the classic things. We might think that if others aren’t happy with us, that’s their problem. Some of us might identify as “doers” who address the things we don’t like. I don’t berate myself, I just get on with it. To some extent, it was this way for me. But in these cases, it might just be that the inner critic has camouflaged itself well. It’s not that it doesn’t exist; we just don’t notice it.

In my case, the inner critic had hidden in the best place possible: in my own opinions. It was not primarily my parent’s opinions or society’s ideals it insisted on, but my own. (Or at least, that was how I experienced them.) When I fell short, I judged myself mercilessly — but it didn’t occur to me that there was any “inner criticism” involved. It was just how it was: what I was judging in myself was sub-par. Insufficient. Weak — or whatever the complaint might be. I agreed with my inner critic to the point where I couldn’t see it as such.

When I fell short, I judged myself mercilessly — but it didn’t occur to me that there was any “inner criticism” involved. It was just how it was: what I was judging in myself was sub-par, after all. I agreed with my inner critic to the point where I couldn’t see it as such.

Moreover, my shortcomings stung, so I wasn’t keen to hang about in thoughts about them. (Feelings around them, even less so.) Instead, there were two different paths open to me: to either “do it again, and get it right this time” (if that were technically possible) or put the situation behind me asap (if it wasn’t) and do something else that would hopefully redeem my standing.

A victim of the inner critic

An inner critic: A self-inflicted discomfort that you should be able to control but, instead, suffered under. I don’t know about you, but I did not relish the idea. That was probably the reason that I “refrained” from self-criticism where some popular topics were concerned — looks, certain behaviours and performance, etc. I told myself that I wasn’t interested anyway, and/or that the ideal was unattainable. That way I didn’t have to entertain those thoughts (at least consciously).

But there were other ideals, obviously. Ones that I strived towards of my own volition, rooted in my personality type as well as my childhood experiences. There, the inner critic got plenty of airspace. These ideals weren’t “ideals” after all; to me, they were Truth. Obviously I had to be strong, autonomous, grown-up and have all the answers. (Not. But it was easier to believe that. The alternative was accepting that I had an inner critic that I was helpless to do anything about. And things I was helpless to do anything about featured very low in my list indeed.)

Discomfort and bad aftertaste — calling-cards of the inner critic

Your inner critic might have a different tone than mine. But maybe you, too, identify so strongly with it’s ideals that you miss that it’s there? This is my sincere opinion — it’s not self-criticism, it’s fact. Well. If this “fact” causes you discomfort, that’s a sign that there is more to it.

At least it was for me, even though it took me many years to realise that. Then I would notice that my intense inner discomfort after a certain interaction — one where, in my opinion, I’d failed by showing weakness, vulnerability or some other despicable trait (according to my ideals, a k a my inner critic) — was indeed the critic itself in action. That was its expression. Not slander and trash talk, but an ice-cold dismissal of me as an individual. The dismissal would stand until I either could live up to its demands or leave the whole sorry mess behind me. No redemption was ever offered; just doing my time and moving on. (Much like, as it happens, my childhood experiences of judgement from the outside.)

I noticed that my intense inner discomfort after a certain interaction was indeed the critic in action. That was its expression. Not slander and trash talk, but an ice-cold dismissal of me as an individual.

What does your inner critic look like?

So it’s not always the case that the inner critic will lecture us — and it’s not at all certain that it comes as a voice or separate entity. Sometimes, it will hide on a deeper level. If you have a hard time identifying your inner critic, you might go about looking for it in two complementing directions. You can investigate your ideals of how you want to (or think you should) be. Also, you can explore negative emotions that arise in connection with situations, events and people.

Investigating your ideals

This path to getting to know the inner critic is on the mental plane. Have paper and pen at the ready. Then, start by closing your eyes and feeling your breath — or using some other tool for finding presence in the here and now — and finding your body. From there, you can look into the ideals you carry, and that you might have turned into demands on yourself. You can ask these questions, for instance, and write down the answers.

  1. Wants: What traits do you want people to see in you? What happens if they don’t?
  2. Don’t wants: What traits do you absolutely NOT want people to see in you? What happens if they do, or if you believe they might have?
  3. Are there people that you often feel discomfort around and/or that make you feel sad, angry or “less than” after seeing and/or talking to? What do you think might be causing these feelings?

Exploring negative emotions

Sometimes, we leave a situation with vague feelings of discomfort the cause of which is not clear. Technically, there might not have been any problems or conflicts. But still, something gnaws at us.

When you recall such a situation, or when you notice that something that just happened has left a bad aftertaste — explore this feeling mode closer. What do you think caused it? “Should” the situation have played out differently? “Should” you have done, said or been different? If what you find reveals new ideals, add them to the ones from questions 1 and 2 above.

* * *

This way, we can take inventory of the inner critic’s opinions and identify familiar thought patterns or feeling climates. These can then serve as “alarms” that signal that the inner critic is in action.

Ok, but … then what?

Mostly, though, these exercises don’t really do anything about the inner critic. There are some exceptions: sometimes we find “ideals” from childhood that we don’t even agree with any longer, even subconsciously. In such cases, it happens that they fall away quite soon, like monsters under the bed disappearing when we turn on the light. But mostly, it’s a little bit more complicated than that. So, what are we meant to do to get rid of the nasty attacks?

When the inner critic is discussed, we’re sometimes instructed to silence it using various tricks. In my experience, this seldom works. After all, all patterns that we rid ourselves of through actively applied measures each time requires that we keep applying them. The moment we let up, the pattern re-establishes itself — and the inner critic is no exception. So, it takes a little bit more work.

“Keep your friends close but your enemy closer”

Well. One thing we might not realise about the inner critic is that it is, actually, not the enemy. But never mind. For our purposes here, this bit of advice is still useful. The way to get the criticism to ease off is to get to know your inner critic. Also, anchor this familiarity in experience, in the body; not just mentally. Then, you discover from where it gets it’s “inspiration” and which voices it is that you have made your own.

Where does the criticism actually come from, when you start deviating from how you “should” be? Whose “shoulds” are they? Are the voices coming from your childhood? From society at large? From the media? When you start becoming aware of these things, your understanding of the inner critic, and what it might possibly try to accomplish, grows. And most of all, it lends you a new perspective on it that shifts it slightly away from where it’s taken up residence, smack in the middle of your head.

A counter-intuitive invitation

Just as so many other things in inner work, it works the opposite way from what we’d expect. Push it away, and it eats you up. Invite it, and it softens and, in the end, stops hurting you.

Understandably, we like to keep the inner critic at arm’s length. After all, what it has to say is sometimes harsh and always uncomfortable. But whatever we try to distance ourselves from gets vague and hard to defend against. Whatever we instead invite closer, that which we allow ourselves to get more familiar with, only gets clearer. So even if it seems rather counter-intuitive to listen more closely to the inner critic, this seemingly backward move actually increases our distance to it and our ability to watch it and evaluate whether what it says actually has any merit. This way, we can start choosing how to act, rather that just blindly reacting.

Just as so many other things in inner work, it works the opposite way from what we’d expect. Push it away, and it eats you up. Invite it, and it softens and, in the end, stops hurting you.

Increased self-knowledge —
decreased self-criticism

One way (and in my view, the only really rewarding way) to guarantee a more balanced perspective on the inner critic is doing deep inner work in general. In such work, we look closer upon our now and our history, and we see the things that have been involved in shaping our inner critic. Mapping out the criticism (formally or more intuitively) is an important step, and for that, the exercises above can help. But to actually stop being negatively affected by this criticism, some deeper work is usually needed.

What do I mean by deep inner work?

Deep inner work takes us within ourselves, so that we can uncover and discover all aspects of us — including the ones that we might not have relished looking at, since they might be riddled with shame, guilt, fear, anger or whatever emotional flavour we have not been comfortable with. Experientially getting in touch which these aspects (as well as others, obviously; they are not all ugly, but usually the repression of the ones we thought were ugly hides other, more radiant aspects). Meeting these with acceptance, experiencing the feelings that go along with them without trying to escape or change them, so that we no longer have to hide from ourselves — that is the basis of deep inner work.

There are tons of formats for such work — meditation retreats, various forms of therapy and methods for self-discovery, individual sessions. It’s really down do personal preferences. But usually, any techniques that specialise — process grief, deal with your inner critic, learn conflict resolution, or whatever it may be — don’t in themselves constitute inner deep inner work. (However, they might be a gateway to it, mostly depending on your own motivation and the person facilitating the technique.) And most importantly, the results of whichever format you use will be greatly improved by you employing the three tools I wrote about in the previous post Get curious about your you-nique expression of consciousness.

Do you have questions or thoughts around the inner critic, or about other aspects of inner growth? Feel free to get in touch 🧡

“Rainbow typing” — a note on Enneatourism

Types and typing

Sometimes, the introductory level of Enneagram knowledge is as far as it goes. Ones are rigid perfectionists, Threes workaholics who’ll sell out for success, Sixes anxious scaredy cats, Eights steamrollers with inch-thick skin — and so on and so forth. That, however, gets old quite quickly (and is not very useful for deepening personal growth).

But then, in reaction to this, something interesting happens. We are told we are ALL types. People get their tritype diagnosed, complete with wings for each type, which, combined with relevant lines, basically covers the whole Enneagram. Which is of course equally useless.

So, how many types do we have, then?

Of course we have all types within us. After all, all of them, together, describe humanity, after all. BUT we also have a core type — not to give us our whole identity, but also not to be too quickly diluted with wings, arrows, lines and whatever else, in an effort to further define yourself. You do have influences from other types’ agendas, of course. But here’s the thing: Your core type is still going to be the one landing you in sh*t most of the time, EVEN IF you’re acting out behaviours or patterns that look like they belong to another type.

I’m an Eight. Sometimes I recognise Fivish, or Twoish, or Sevenish — or whatever other types pop up within me—in my everyday life. But that does not mean it is a Five, Two of Seven reaction; rather, it is an Eight (i e, me), reacting in a manner that is often attributed to another type. And scratching the surface slightly and looking a couple of layers down, I’m not going to do it like a Five or Two or Seven. I’m going to do it (whatever might look or sound to be a behaviour or pattern typical of one of these types) like an Eight. Or, more specifically of course, I’m going to do it like ME. 

Be more interested in the labelled than in the label

Even looking at the classical Enneagram with wings and arrows, whatever I act out comes from the same personality as my core type, as it comes from my personality. And in my experience, analysing “what type in me” is doing a, b or c is just giving the ego something to talk about (and around), distracting itself from doing any actual inner work. 

This doesn’t mean everyone who talks about other types’ expressing themselves within them is full of it. And it most certainly does not mean we are clones. But it does mean that it’s more important, at least where inner work is concerned, to look at what you’re up to than to label it. Don’t get tangled up in analysis. When we take a closer look at ourselves, we usually find it’s the same old ego appropriating whatever technique, behaviour or tactic it found. Stay with that ❤️️