4

EMOTIONS, PROCEDURAL MEMORIES, AND THE STRUCTURE OF TRAUMA

This chapter begins with a discussion of how procedural memories form the bedrock of our sensations, as well as many of our feelings, thoughts, and beliefs. In addition, we will discuss how procedural memories can be accessed to “renegotiate” a trauma, whether it is a debilitating, “large-T” Trauma or a seemingly inconsequential, “small-t” trauma.

You’ll recall from Chapter 3 that the critically important subcategory of implicit memories, called procedural memories, involves movement patterns. These action programs include: 1) learned motor skills, 2) valences of approach/avoidance,14 and 3) survival reactions. The latter two engage innate movement programs (action patterns), which are charged by evolution to carry out actions that are necessary for our survival and well-being.

It is the persistence, power, and longevity of procedural memories that make them critical when considering any therapeutic protocol. It is important to note that of all the memory subsystems, those of the instinctual survival reactions are the deepest, most compelling, and, in times of threat and stress, generally override the other implicit and explicit memory subtypes. (See Figure 4.1, insert here.)

Let us first consider an example of a procedural memory as an acquired motor skill. Learning to ride a bicycle may seem like a formidable, if not terrifying, task, yet with the gentle support of a parent or older sibling, we master the quixotic forces of gravity, velocity, and momentum. We do this procedurally, without any explicit knowledge of the physics or math involved. We learn to master these forces largely by trial and error; the requisite learning curve is, of necessity, quite steep. The adage that one never forgets how to ride a bike rings true for most procedural memories, for better or for worse. So if during one of our early bicycling efforts we have the misfortune of hitting loose gravel and taking a nasty spill, the acquisition of adaptive and requisite balanced movements and body postures can be interfered with. Then when we finally do ride, it may be with a hesitancy leading to instability, or, alternatively, with daredevil abandon and “counter phobia.” What should have evolved into a nuanced learned motor skill is overridden and becomes instead a habitual, survival-based reactive pattern of bracing and contracting, or of overcompensating with counter-phobic risk taking; both are less-than-optimal outcomes and unfortunate examples of the durability of a procedural memory. Indeed, persistent maladaptive procedural and emotional memories form the core mechanism that underlies all traumas, as well as many problematic social and relationship issues.

Over time, through trial and error, success and failure, our bodies gather which movement strategies work and which ones don’t. For example, which situations should we approach and from which should we retreat? In which should we engage with “fight or flight,” and when should we “freeze” and remain motionless? A specific example of the persistence of maladaptive procedural memories (involving approach/avoidance and survival reactions) is manifested in Ana, who was raped as a child by her grandfather and now as an adult stiffens, retracts, and finally collapses in fear and revulsion when caressed by her loving husband. Her demoralizing confusion between a safe and a dangerous person is compounded by a survival-based bias to assume danger even where there exists only the most superficial of similarities—in this case, the combined triggers of men and touch. Therefore, Ana’s trauma—whether consciously remembered or not—compels the unfortunate mistake of perceiving a threat of violation by her dearest, most caring friend.

In Ana’s therapy she allows herself to feel a physical impulse to pull away from her husband, suggesting an incomplete survival-based reaction. This resides as a procedural memory, devoid of content, yet playing out as if she were in the clutches of her grandfather. Sensing more deeply how her body stiffens and contracts gives rise to a spontaneous image of the grandfather and the smell of his cigarette-laden breath. Ana then experiences an urge to push him off. Upon focusing on that impulse, she feels a tentative power in her arms along with the self-compassionate realization that she couldn’t have pushed him off as a child. She then feels a surge of anger and a sustained strength as she pushes (the image of) him away. Ana then feels a wave of nausea as her forehead breaks out in beads of sweat. This autonomic reaction satisfies and completes the drive to repel her grandfather; it is an important part of the reworking of the original thwarted response to the procedural memory of trying to get away from him. This autonomic reaction is followed by a full deep breath, a spreading warmth in her hands, and then an unexpected calm. Ana notes with gratitude that she is now looking forward to returning home. At her next visit she reports that she was able to enjoy her husband’s touch and felt secure in his arms. She requests that we now work toward gradually preparing her for some initial sexual exploration with her cherished husband.

Friend or Foe?

As introduced in Chapter 3, mild emotions and nuanced feelings serve the dynamic function of forming and sustaining relationships in times of relative safety. They do this by communicating important social information to others, as well as to ourselves. These ambient emotional feelings fulfill the function of guiding us in social situations and generating intragroup cohesion. They accomplish this via a wide range of feelings, particularly those that we know to be positive or “eudemonic,” such as joy, caring, belonging, purposefulness, cooperation, and peacefulness. When we encounter a friend whom we have not seen for a while, we are filled with joy and gladness. Or if someone dear to us leaves or passes on, we may first grieve and then be filled with a cleansing sadness and fond remembrances.6

Sometimes, low to moderate levels of anger alert us when something is interfering with a relationship or a task. Then, hopefully, that anger guides, motivates, and empowers us to remove the obstacle, thus restoring the relationship and moving forward. At moderate levels, emotions may signal the possibility of danger. We convey this potentiality to others through body language, via our postures and facial expressions. As social animals, when sensing danger in the environment, we stiffen in readiness, preparing ourselves for action while alerting others, and then can cooperatively take protective, evasive, defensive, or aggressive action.

Intense levels of fear, anger, terror, or rage compel us to instantaneously and unequivocally act with full-out power in action by unconsciously selecting and evoking specific procedural memories for fighting or fleeing. If we cannot fully execute these actions or are overwhelmed, we freeze or collapse in helpless immobility, conserving our energy until safety is restored. In summary, when high levels of activation surge forth and intense emotions take over, they can “flip” us into the procedural survival programs of “kill or be killed” (fight-or-flight) mode, or de-enervate us into collapse, shame, defeat, and helplessness.

Generally, moderate to high levels of subcortically evoked intense “negative” emotions, particularly those of fear and anger, cue us to danger and prompt us to locate its source, evaluate its actual threat, and then call forth the actions necessary to defend or protect ourselves and others. However, this option for action will be (appropriately) moot if our assessment yields an absence of danger. In this case we ideally return to a fluid state of relaxed alertness.

Who among us hasn’t experienced a moment of inexplicable fear and stiffening when startled by a novel sound or shifting shadow, yet only a few seconds later easily identified the potential “danger” and assessed its actual salience and risk? More often than not, this charged, attention-grabbing, emotionally tagged event is something benign, like a door opening abruptly or a curtain billowing in the wind. If we have a balanced, resilient nervous system our “here and now” observing-ego/prefrontal cortex says to the emotionally charged amygdala, “Chill out. Relax. It’s just a door being opened by your friend John, who has arrived early for our meeting.” Hence, when we are able to stand back, observe, and reduce the intensity of these emotions, we are afforded the possibility of also selecting and modifying the survival responses themselves.

In an intriguing incidence of synchronicity, while working on this very chapter, Laura (my editor) and I needed a stretch break, so we took a leisurely walk by the lake at Mythenquai, one of the many beautiful parks in Zurich. We were meandering among the children splashing in the shallow wading pools and playing on the swings and jungle gyms, relaxing in the soft, sun-filled warmth and opening to the gentle wonders of the day, taking pleasure in our sensory-rich environment. Then, almost in unison, we found ourselves stopping, startled, and momentarily breathless. Simultaneously, we scanned our surroundings, zeroing in on a thicket of tall bamboo. Taking quick notice of several twenty-foot stalks that were inexplicably bending and shaking, we stood alert, tensed and hyper-focused, seeking to identify the source of threat and readying to exit posthaste. Nothing but the movement of the bamboo occupied our awareness. The aperture of our sensory field constricted abruptly, and the luxurious pleasures of the park all but vanished.

For our distant ancestors in dense jungles, this pattern of movement and rustling could have easily signaled a stalking, crouching tiger. However, this time-honed instinctual reaction was patently ridiculous given that this was the least likely place on earth to encounter a threat of any kind! Indeed, on a second look, we realized it was just a group of errant children, not obeying the tidy norms of the Swiss, but instead hiding in the dense bamboo, playing Tarzan of the jungle. They were gleefully forcing some of the tallest stalks to bend steeply; obviously no cause for alarm, just a chuckle. Such an exaggerated, fear-cued reaction to a maximally benign situation is an example of what is technically called a false-positive. Initially, we reacted “positively” as though the shaking bamboo were a real threat, even though (in this case) it turned out to be just a “false alarm”—a false-positive.

False-Positive Bias

In nature, as in the park in Zurich, the consequence of a false-positive assessment is relatively minor. Really, nothing was lost, other than the expenditure of a few extra calories, when we mistook the mischievous children for a mythical tiger in Mythenquai Park. On the other hand, false-negatives—acting as though something is not dangerous when in fact it actually is—can be fatal and are evolutionarily unsustainable. If we ignore the rustling in the bushes, we may become easy prey for a stalking mountain lion or a hungry bear. Hence, it is better that any uncertainty or ambiguity is experienced as a threat (i.e., that we have a strong innate bias toward false-positives) and then later, after the initial startle, correctly identified as safe; nothing gained, nothing lost. So when, rather than a stalking predator, we discover the source of a startling noise to be playing children or a flock of birds taking flight, it is still better from an evolutionary vantage point to have first automatically presumed it to be a lethal threat. In other words, always give the benefit of the doubt to the worst-case scenario.7 Our abrupt and escalating emotions of startle and fear instruct us to immediately take heed.

However, when these intense emotions and their attendant motor responses (procedural memories) become chronic, the very emotions that are intended to serve, guide, protect, and defend us can become corrosive and turn against us—against the Self. It is critical at this point to understand how to work with these maladaptive emotions and procedural engrams. “Renegotiation” is a means of resolving these traumatic memories through the gentle release of chronic emotions and the creative restructuring of the dysfunctional responses. This provides us with an avenue of return to our pre-trauma capacity for balance and well-being.

Renegotiation

Renegotiation is not about simply reliving a traumatic experience. It is, rather, the gradual and titrated revisiting of various sensory-motor elements comprising a particular trauma engram. Renegotiation occurs primarily by accessing procedural memories associated with the two dysregulated states of the autonomic nervous system (ANS)—hyperarousal/overwhelm or hypoarousal/shutdown and helplessness—and then restoring and completing the associated active responses. As this process progresses, the client moves from hypo- or hyperarousal, toward equilibrium, relaxed alertness, and a here-and-now orientation. (See Figure 4.2, insert here and Figure 5.2, insert here.) In essence, renegotiation as a therapeutic process reverses the sequence of the biological action in response to threat. Finally, to complete the therapeutic process, the renegotiated procedural memories are linked to the recalibrated episodic and narrative memories.

In review, emotional arousal in response to threat exists on a continuum, but with abrupt amplifications at certain points within that spectrum. These emotions are signals that evoke innate (prepared) motor action programs. This continuum begins with mild arousal (curiosity) in response to novelty in the environment and moves smoothly through to pleasure/displeasure until the abrupt shift into fear, rage, terror, and horror. The sequence of evoked motor patterns and their associated emotions is as follows:

1. Arrest and alert—associated with curiosity.

2. Stiffen and orient—associated with focused attention, interest, and preparedness.

3. Assess—associated with intense interest, friendliness, or repulsion. This assessment is informed by our genetic memory banks, as well as our personal histories.

4. Approach or avoid—associated with pleasure and displeasure.

In the more intense activation states, there is an abrupt shift to the powerfully compelling emotions of fear, rage, terror, and horror that erupt into all-out action, immobilization or collapse:

5. Fight-or-flight—experienced as fear. When these active responses are thwarted we:

6. Freeze, as in “scared stiff”—associated with terror.

7. “Fold” and collapse—associated with helpless/hopeless horror.

During our “jungle encounter” at Mythenquai Park, Laura and I went through the first three phases of the above sequence. Once the source of possible threat was identified and readily assessed as nonthreatening, our response was one of shared mirth. Hence, it can be seen that when the experience of likely threat is minimal, these early phases will reverse naturally and readily, returning the organism (in this case, both Laura and me) to a state of relaxed alertness. However, when these initial response phases to potential threat do not sufficiently terminate the alarm, the call to action escalates abruptly. Indeed, if the rustling bamboo had revealed a stalking predator, our emotional state would have intensified dramatically and mobilized our full-out action responses in a life-or-death, biologically ordained survival sequence (Phases 5, 6, and 7).

In general, the emergency-based emotions in Phases 5, 6, and 7 evoke an intensifying sequence of procedural motor programs that increase along a gradient, from a sense of danger in fight-or-flight, to acute fear in freeze, and then finally to the helpless terror and the “last-ditch” default reaction of collapse and shutdown. These innate procedural responses have distinct autonomic nervous system (ANS) features. Phase 5, fight-or-flight, is supported by the sympathetic-adrenal system, thus mobilizing us to meet the emergency. Then, if the threat is not resolved or our defensive/protective actions are thwarted, Phase 6, freeze, takes over. This is accompanied by an intensification of the already activated sympathetic-adrenal arousal, springing us into hyper-drive and simultaneous immobility; we become “scared stiff.” Once the threat level is perceived as inescapable or mortal, we progress to Phase 7, “folding,” a profound state of hopelessness and helplessness. Our bodies and spirit collapse while our metabolic processes (including digestion, respiration, circulation, and energy production) shut down. This state of shutdown is mediated by the so-called primitive (unmyelinated) branch of the parasympathetic nervous system via the vagus (tenth cranial) nerve.15 In this state, with both the accelerator and brake fully engaged, the autonomic dynamics are such that we may flip back and forth almost instantaneously between sympathetic and parasympathetic (vagal) dominance (hyper- and hypoarousal); see Figure 5.2, insert here.16 When people become “stuck” in this unstable, paroxysmal phase, they are left in the sheer hell realm of trauma, paralyzed with terror, while experiencing eruptions of blind rage yet devoid of the sustained energy to act.

To renegotiate a trauma, the defense-orienting sequence must be reversed by first attending to the completion of the relevant procedural memories of Phases 5, 6, and 7. We do this by resolving these highly activated states and restoring a more active response where there has been shutdown. In doing this, we successively move back up the chain: from 7 to 6 to 5 to 4 to 3 to 2 to 1.8 In this sequential renegotiation, the individual will return to a here-and-now orientation, with a deepened regulation and inner balance. This completion is evidenced by a restoration of the ANS into its range of dynamic equilibrium and relaxed alertness. (See Figure 4.2, insert here.)

SIBAM

Therapeutically, renegotiation and transformation are clarified and guided by a map of a person’s inner experience. The SIBAM Model incorporates the neurophysiologic, somatic, sensory, behavioral, and affective aspects of an individual’s experience, whether traumatic or triumphant. In a nontraumatized state, the elements of SIBAM (sensation, image, behavior, affect, and meaning) form a fluid, continuous, and coherent response that is appropriate to the present situation. In this way, coherent narratives evolve from primitive sensory-motor processing. However, where there is unresolved trauma, elements of SIBAM are either too closely linked (over-coupled), or dissociated and fragmented (under-coupled). The concept of SIBAM, and its utilization in renegotiating trauma, is described in detail in Chapter 7 of my book In an Unspoken Voice.17

Sensation

These are the interoceptive, physical sensations that arise from within the body, including (from most conscious to least conscious):

• Kinesthetic—muscle tension patterns

• Proprioceptive—awareness of our position in space

• Vestibular—acceleration and deceleration

• Visceral—sensations from the viscera (guts, heart, and lungs) and blood vessels

Image

Image refers to the external sense impressions, which include sight, taste, smell, hearing, and touch (the tactile sense).

Behavior

Behavior is the only channel that the therapist is able to observe directly. The therapist can infer a client’s inner states from reading his or her body’s language. These include:

• Voluntary gestures

• Emotional/facial expressions

• Posture—the platforms from which intrinsic movement is initiated; typically refers to the spine.

• Autonomic signals—includes the cardiovascular and respiratory systems. The pulse rate can be measured by the client’s carotid artery in the neck.

• Visceral behavior—digestive shifts can be “observed” via changing sounds in the gut.

• Archetypal behaviors—include involuntary gestures or postural shifts that convey a universal meaning.

Affect

Affect refers to the categorical emotions of fear, anger, sadness, joy, and disgust, as well as contours of feelings. Contours are the nuanced, sensation-based (felt sense) feelings of attraction and avoidance, of “goodness” and “badness,” that guide us throughout our lives. They are the rudders and bearings that take us through the day.

Meaning

Meanings are the labels we attach to the totality of experience from the combined elements of S, I, B, and A. These include trauma-based fixed beliefs. The therapist helps the client to freely access the full spectrum of developing sensations and feelings to form new meanings, allowing the old cognitive beliefs of “badness” to transform as part of the process of renegotiation.

Using SIBAM: A Case Study

What follows is a simple example of utilizing SIBAM with a client to address her trigger for a relatively minor trauma. Louise loves nature, parks, meadows, and grassy knolls; however, every time she smells newly mown grass she feels nauseated, anxious, and dizzy. Her fixated belief (M) is that she might have an allergy to grass and that it is something to be avoided. The olfactory and visual image (I), the smell and sight of cut grass, is associated with—or (over) coupled to—the sensations of nausea and dizziness (S) coming from her visceral and vestibular systems. She has no idea why this happens; she just knows that she has a strong dislike (M) of cut grass. As Louise explores her sensations and images, seeing and smelling cut grass in her “mind’s eye,” she takes time to explore her bodily sensations in detail. As she does this, she has an emergent new sensation of being spun in the air while held by her left wrist and left ankle. This experience is both vestibular (S) as well as a feeling of pressure on her wrist and ankle (I). She next gets a tactile and visual image of her bully brother forcefully holding her wrists and giving her an unwelcome and frightening airplane spin on the (freshly cut) front lawn of her childhood home when she was four or five years old. She experiences her body trying to contract into a ball that would break the momentum of the spin (S). As she evokes this active defensive response, she has another impulse (S) to dig the fingernails of her right hand into his flesh. She now feels power in her hands, arms, and chest (S) as she imagines doing this.

Louise feels a momentary fear (A) as she trembles and breathes, yet it quickly subsides as she realizes that she is no longer in danger. She opens her eyes and orients (B) by looking around the colorful office. Then turning her head a bit farther, she greets the open face of her therapist with a quiet smile (B). Feeling intact with this newfound safety, she settles. She then experiences a deep, spontaneous breath (B) and reports feeling secure in her belly now (S), a new visceral awareness. She pauses and then notices some lingering tightness around her wrist (S). She registers an impulse to try and pry her hands loose (S, kinesthetic). Feeling a wave of anger (A) building up inside her, she yells, “Stop!” by using the motor muscles of her vocal cords (B). She settles again and feels the tactile pleasure of lying on the soft, newly mown grass, taking in the warmth of the summertime sunshine (I). Fresh grass is no longer over-coupled with the unpleasant sensations (old M); new green, freshly groomed grass is good, parks are wonderful places, and “all is well” (new M and coherent narrative).

Once we understand the process of renegotiation and engage its transformative power, biology works to move the experience along. It follows naturally that when the client’s bodily responses are elaborated and become conscious in the safety of the present moment, the thwarted procedural memories come to an intrinsic corrective experience and there is resolution.

Working in a phased sequence of renegotiation, as we observed in the session with Louise, continually strengthens the critical observer function. This is the capacity to stay present and track the various troubling sensations, emotions, and images—to meet them without being overwhelmed. This function, in turn, facilitates coming to peace with one’s memory amalgams.

With this basic understanding of renegotiation, we’ll study in the next chapter Pedro’s trauma transformation and rite of passage, his personal hero’s journey, as he masters his disempowered memories, allowing them to evolve from procedural/emotional memory into an episodic narrative.

Figure 4.1. Relationships between explicit and implicit memory systems in planning and future projection (moving forward in life).

Figure 4.2. Escalating levels of threat (left side) lead to traumatic states. We “renegotiate” threat by moving upwards from trauma toward alertness, orientation, and equilibrium (right side).

a. The Brazilians have a name for this tender feeling: saudade. The definition of this word includes feeling the loss of someone dear to you, but still holding them in your heart such that they are never really gone, but with you eternally.

b. Any new meditator observes this innate bias as they try to deflect the intrusive deluge of obsessive worry and negative thoughts, hopefully stilling the voracious “monkey mind” with the guidance of a compassionate and experienced teacher. It is our evolutionary bias toward a false-positive that can seriously interfere with the capacity to meditate as it prompts the mind to, habitually, wander toward fear and worry.

c. It should be noted that this sequence is by no means linear, and it frequently takes several passes to renegotiate a trauma.