Getting the Love you Want
A guide for Couples
by Harville Hendrix, Ph.D.
Page 132 - Chapter 9:

Increasing Your Knowledge of Yourself and Your Partner

And ye shall know the truth,
and the truth shall make you free.
-JOHN 8:32
Although we all agree in principle that our partners have their own points of view and their own valid perceptions, at the emotional level we are reluctant to accept this simple truth.  We like to believe that the way we see the world is the way the world is.  When our partners disagree with us, it is tempting to think that they are ill-informed or have a distorted point of view.  How else could they be so wrong?
Some people are particularly entrenched in their private view of the world.  This was especially true for a client of mine named Gene.  The director of a successful corporation, he was very bright and accustomed to dominating those around him with the sheer force of his interject.  He totally eclipsed his wife, a gentle and good-hearted woman named Judy, who would sit beside him with her chin drawn in and her shoulders hunched forward, looking like a chastened child.
     One of my objectives during their initial therapy sessions was to bolster Judy up so that she would have enough courage to express her opinions in front of her imposing husband. (In psychology textbooks, this is called 'implementing the therapeutic balance.") Normally, as soon as she would utter a few sentences, Gene would pounce on her and refute whatever she had to say.  "That's a lie!  That's absolutely not true," he would blurt out.  Then he would launch into a defense of his position.  His summation was invariably the same: "This is not just my opinion, Dr. Hendrix.  It happens to be the literal truth." And I could see that he truly believed that his point of view was the only valid one, that he alone had a grip on reality.
     It was pointless for me to try to convince him verbally of the narrowness of his vision; he would have turned our conversation into a forensic debate, and I had no doubt who would win.  At the beginning of our eighth session together, however, I had a sudden inspiration.  Judy had just ventured an opinion about a recent encounter between Gene and his father.  Apparently she and Gene and her father-in-law had gone out to dinner together, and Gene's father had said something to Gene that had wounded his pride.  Judy's perception was that Gene's father had been trying to give him some constructive criticism; Gene's perception was that his father had been cruel and spiteful.  "You are wrong again, Judy," Gene intoned.  "How could you be so blind?"
     I interrupted their conversation and told them that I wanted them to put their difference of opinion aside for a moment and spend ten minutes listening to a classical-music tape that I happened to have in the office, a recording of Franck's Violin Sonata in A. I slipped the tape into the cassette player and invited them to listen to the music and pay attention to any images that came to their minds.  They both were a little puzzled by my request, and I sensed an impatience in Gene: how was listening to music going to help them resolve their difficulties?  But by now Gene had enough confidence in me to allow me to run the therapy sessions; he figured there must be some reason for my unusual suggestion.
     The three of us sat back and listened to the music.  I stopped the tape after the second movement and, knowing full well that I was walking into a mine field, casually asked Judy and Gene what they thought of the music.
     Gene spoke first.  "What a lovely piece," he said.  "It was so lyrical.  I especially enjoyed the violin part in the first movement." He hummed several bars, and I was impressed by his ability to remember the notes and to hum them on key.  Among his numerous attributes, he apparently had perfect pitch.  "Such a beautiful melody," he continued.  "For some reason, the image that came to my mind was of the ocean.  There were qualities to the music that reminded me of a Debussy sonata.  Even though Franck is less impressionistic, there is the same sensuous texture.  It must be the French heritage."
     I turned to Judy and asked for her opinion.
     "That's funny," she said, in a voice that was so low I had to strain to hear her, "I had a different feeling about the music." She burrowed deeper into the leather armchair, showing no desire to elaborate.  How could she measure up to her husband's learned critique?
     'Tell me what you saw in it, Judy." I urged.  "I'd like to know what you were thinking, too."
'Well," she said, clearing her throat, "I guess the music seemed kind of stormy to me.  Especially the piano part.  All those chords.  I got the image of storm clouds and wind - and a darkening sky"
     "Honey, what makes you think it was so dramatic?" Gene asked, in the patronizing tone of voice he reserved for his wife.  'I almost fell asleep, it was so soothing.  Listen to it more closely, Judy, and you'll see what I mean.  It has to be one of the most lyrical pieces of music ever written.  Don't you agree, Dr. Hendrix?" (Like many people, he spent a great deal of time trying to get his therapist to see his side of the story.)
     "Yes, I do, Gene" I obliged him.  "I sensed a gentleness to the music, a romantic quality that at times was very soothing." Then I turned to Judy and said, -But I also agree with you, Judy.  There were parts that seemed to have a real sense of passion and drama.  I guess I'm agreeing with both of you." Gene started drumming his fingers on the arm of his chair.
     "I have an idea" I said, "Why don't the two of you listen to the tape again, but this time I want you to see if you can find evidence that supports your partner's point of view.  Gene, I want you to look for the dramatic tension; Judy, see if you can find the lighter, poetic touches."
     I rewound the tape, and they listened to the piece for the second time.  Once again I asked for their opinions.  This time both Gene and Judy heard qualities in the sonata that had previously eluded them.  Gene made an interesting observation.  The first time he had listened to the sonata, he said, he had been instinctively drawn to the violin.  When he forced himself to pay more attention to the piano, he could see why he and Judy had had such different initial reactions.  "There is a lot of tension to the music," he conceded, "especially in those piano arpeggios in the beginning of the second movement.  That was a beautiful passage that slipped by me the first time through.  My mind must have been on something else.  I can see how someone might think the music was stormy." Judy, meanwhile, had been able to understand Gene's first impression.  The music hadn't seemed so overwhelming to her the second time around.  "There are some lovely, quiet parts" she said.  "In fact, the whole first movement is really quite subdued."
By listening to the music from each other's point of view, they had learned that the sonata was a richer piece of music than either of them had first perceived.  There were serene passages and dramatic passages; it was complex, multifaceted.
"I wonder what would happen if we could talk to the performers and get their impressions," wondered Gene, "and then talk to a music historian?  I bet each person could add a great deal to the music.  The sonata would acquire more and more depth."
     I couldn't have been more pleased with the way this discussion was going; my gamble had paid off.  'That's exactly what I hoped you would see," I said to him.  "That's the whole point of this exercise.  If the two of you would look at everything in the same open-minded way, you would realize two things: first, that each of you has a valid point of view; second, that reality is larger and more complex than either one of you will ever know.  All you can do is form impressions of the world - take more and more snapshots, each time aiming for a closer approximation of the truth.  But one thing is certain.  If you respect each other's point of view and see it as a way to enrich your own, you will be able to take clearer, more accurate pictures."
     Given their new spirit of cooperation, I guided Gene and Judy back through a discussion of Gene's encounter with his father.  Gene was able to entertain the idea that there had been some goodwill behind his father's criticism.  Perhaps he had been screening out his father's good intentions, just the way he had screened out the piano part to the Franck sonata.  Judy, in turn, gained a greater appreciation for the long-term tension between father and son.  When she mentally reviewed the dinner conversation in the context of the troubled history between Gene and his father, she could understand why her husband had been so upset by what had at first seemed to her to be a casual well intentioned remark.  All of a sudden they had binocular, not monocular, vision.
 

Hidden Sources of Knowledge

When you accept the limited nature of your own perceptions and become more receptive to the truth of your partner's perceptions, a whole world opens up to you.  Instead of seeing your partner's differing views as a source of conflict, you find them a source of knowledge: "What are you seeing that I am not seeing?" "What have you learned that I have yet to learn?" Marriage gives you the opportunity to be continually schooled in your own reality and in the reality of another person.  Every one of your interactions contains a grain of truth, a sliver of insight, a glimpse into your hiddenness and your wholeness.  As you add to your growing fund of knowledge, you are creating reality love, a love based on the emerging truth of yourself and your partner, not on romantic illusion.
In Chapter Six we discussed a number of specific areas in which you need to increase your knowledge.  You need to become more aware of the hidden agenda you bring to marriage, of your disowned character traits, of your partner's inner world, and of the healing potential of your marriage relationship.  As you can see from this brief look at Judy and Gene's relationship, acquiring this information depends to a large degree on your willingness to value and learn from each other's perceptions.  Once both of you demonstrate a desire to expand your individual conceptions of the world, the details of everyday life become a gold mine of information.
An especially good area to mine for this hidden information is your spoken and unspoken criticisms of your partner: "You never come home on time." "I can never lean on you." "Why don't you think of me for a change?" "You are so selfish." At the time you are making these statements, you believe them to be accurate descriptions of your partner.  But the truth of the matter is that they are often descriptions of parts of yourself.
Take a look at this composite example from several couples to see how much information can be gleaned from one chronic, emotional complaint.  Lees suppose that a woman routinely criticizes her husband for being disorganized.  "You are always disorganized!  I can never depend on you!" When her husband demands some specific examples, she retorts, "You are terrible about planning for vacations.  You always forget the essentials when we go camping.  You never remember the kids' birthdays.  And you always leave the kitchen a jumbled mess when you cook!" Not surprisingly, the man's automatic response to this cluster of accusations is a blanket denial followed by a counter criticism: "That's not true.  You're exaggerating.  You're more disorganized than I am!"
How can this heated argument be turned into useful information?  First, the husband would learn something about himself if he assumed that his wife's criticism contained an element of truth; most people are experts at spotting their mates' Achilles heel.  Unfortunately, most people deliver this valuable information in an accusatory manner, immediately arousing the partners' defenses.  If this man were able to override his defensive response, he would be able to see that there are indeed many areas of his life in which he is not well organized; the pain of hearing a criticism is largely due to its accuracy.  If he could accept the truth in his wife's remarks, he would become more aware of a significant disowned trait.  That would eliminate his need to project this trait back onto his wife, and it would also give him the data he needed in order to grow and change.
     This observation about the hidden information contained in a criticism can be expressed as a general principle:

Principle 1: Most of your partner's criticism of you have some basis in reality.

     What else could the couple learn from the above interchange?  If the woman had an open mind, she might be able to gain some valuable information about her own childhood wounds.  She could do this by following a simple procedure.  First, she could write her criticism on a piece of paper: "You are always so disorganized!" Then she could answer the following questions:

     How do I feel when my partner acts this way?
     What thoughts do I have when my partner acts this way?
     What deeper feelings might underlie these thoughts and feelings?  Did I ever have these thoughts and feelings when I was a child?

     By going through this simple analytical process, she could determine whether or not her husband's behavior brought back any strong memories from her childhood.  Let's suppose the exercise helps the woman discover that her parents were always disorganized and had little time or energy to pay attention to her needs.  Not surprisingly, when her husband acts in a similar manner, she is filled with the same fears she had as a child.  Buried in her criticism of her husband, therefore, is a plaintive cry from childhood: "Why can't someone take care of me?"
This leads us to a second general principle:

Principle 2: Many of your repetitious, emotional critics of your partner are disguised statements of your own unmet needs.

     There is another piece of information that can be derived from such criticism, one that usually requires a great deal of soul-searching.  It is possible that the woman's criticism of her husband is a valid statement about herself.  In other words, all the while she is berating her husband for his lack of organization, she may be as disorganized as he is.  To find out if this is true, she could ask herself a general question: "In what way is my criticism of my husband also true of me?" She should keep in mind that the way in which she is disorganized may be quite different from her husband's.  She may keep an immaculate kitchen, for example, and be a whiz at planning vacations - the areas where he has difficulties -- but have a hard time prioritizing her tasks at work or managing the family budget.  With this new insight, she would be able to determine whether or not she was attempting to exorcise a disowned, negative part of herself by externalizing it projecting it onto her partner, and then criticizing it.  If she found that to be true, she would have the information she needs to allow herself to separate her own negative traits from her partner's  - "I am disorganized in this specific way; my partner is disorganized in that specific way." In psychological terms, she would be "owning" and "withdrawing" her projections.  Jesus said it more poetically: "Cast out the log in your own eye so that you can see the mote in your brother's eye."
     This leads us to a third observation about criticism:

Principle 3: Some of your repetitive, emotional criticisms of your partner may be an accurate description of a disowned part of yourself.

     Often, when a recurring criticism is not a description of a disowned part of the self, it is a description of another unconscious aspect, the lost self.  If this woman were to scrutinize her behavior and find herself to be supremely well organized in all aspects of her life, her criticism of her husband might be an unconscious wish to be less organized - to be more relaxed, flexible, and spontaneous. When she criticizes her husband for behaving 'in a carefree manner, she may be secretly resenting his freedom.  When partners criticize each other for being too energetic, too sexy, too playful, too dedicated to their work, they are often identifying undeveloped or repressed areas of their own psyches.  Now we have our fourth and final principle:

Principle 4: Some of your criticism of your partner may help you identify  your own lost self

In the next chapter, 'in an exercise called the Stretching exercise, I will show you how to take the knowledge that you- can glean from your mutual criticisms and convert it 'into an effective, growth-producing process.

Understanding Your Partner's Inner World

Examining your criticisms of your partner turns out to be an excellent way to gather information about yourself How can you increase your knowledge of your partner's inner world?  The answer is, through improved channels of communication.  Throughout the course of your relationship, your partner has given you thousands of hours of testimony about his or her thoughts and feelings and wishes, but only a fraction of this information ever registered.  In order to deepen your understanding of your partner's subjective reality, you need to train yourself to communicate more effectively.
     To do this, it helps to know something about semantics: even though you and your partner speak the same language, each of you dwells in an idiosyncratic world of private meanings.  Growing up in different families with different fife experiences has given you private lexicons.  As a trivial example let's explore what the simple words "Let's play tennis' might mean in two different families.  In family A, the full unspoken definition of this phrase is: "Let's grab any old racket that happens to be lying around, walk to the local park, and lob the ball back and forth across the net until someone wants to quit.  Rules are secondary; it's the exercise that counts." In family B, however, "Let's play tennis" has quite a different meaning.  It means let's reserve an indoor court at the private club, get out our two-hundred-dollar rackets, and then play tough, competitive tennis until one player is clearly the winner." Mark, raised in family A, is going to be taken aback, by the aggressiveness and determination that his wife, Susan, raised in family B, brings to the game.
     A less trivial example would be the associations that Mark and Susan might bring to the phrase 'Let's talk about it." Assume that in Susan's family "Let's talk about it" means: "All the adults sit around the table and calmly and rationally discuss their various points of view until they come up with an agreed-upon plan of action." In Mark's family the same words mean: "This is a topic that we will talk about briefly and then shelve until further notice." Underlying Mark's family's more casual approach is the philosophy that even the most difficult problems work themselves out over time.  When Susan proposes to Mark that they "talk about the fact that their son is getting poor marks at school, and Mark says a few sentences and then switches on the IV, she is going to be irate.  Mark, in turn, is going to be stunned when Susan storms out the door and does not return for several hours.  What did he do wrong?  What he did wrong was assume that he and his wife shared the same language.
 

Denial

Besides the problem of idiosyncratic language, there are other roadblocks to communication, Perhaps the most common mechanism is denial: you simply refuse to believe what your partner has to say.  A recent example comes to mind.  Joseph and Amira came to one of my weekend workshops.  Joseph is a forty year­old journalist, Amira a twenty-five-year-old television actress.  They are both attractive, accomplished people.  On Saturday evening, about midway through the seminar, the key source of their conflict began to emerge.  During a discussion period, Joseph volunteered that he desperately wanted to start a family.  "I'm going to be old enough to be a grandfather before I'm a father," he lamented.  But Amira wanted to wait.  Her career was just getting off the ground, and she didn't want to take time off to have a baby until her mid-thirties.  She protested that she had told Joseph before they got married that she wasn't interested in starting a family until much later.  "I was very clear about it in my own head, and I told him over and over again.  But he didn't listen to me. I should have worn a T-shirt with big block letters: I'm not ready to have children.' Joseph acknowledged that Amira had 'indeed made her position clear to him, but he had convinced himself that she didn't mean what she said.  "I was sure that she was only kidding herself.  How could acting a bit part on a soap opera be more important than being a mother?" Satisfying his urgent need to have children was so important to him that he had discounted his wife's priorities.
     We all have a number of these subterranean "hot spots" in our relationships, places where our expectations of our partners collide with reality.  When our partners behave in ways that conflict with our self-interest, we have an arsenal of weapons to help us maintain our illusions.  We can condemn them: "You are a bad (ungrateful, insensitive, boorish, stupid, spiteful, uninformed, crass, unenlightened, etc.) person for feeling that way." We can "educate them: "You don't really feel that way.  What you really feel is . . .' We can threaten them: "Unless you change your mind, I'm going to . . "We can ignore them: "Uh-huh.  Very interesting.  As I was saying . . ." Or we can analyze them: "The reason you have such unacceptable thoughts and feelings is that years ago your mother. . ." In all of these responses, what we are trying to do is diminish our partners' sense of self and replace it with our own, self-serving illusion.  Unfortunately, this is exactly what happened to our partners in childhood.  In dozens of ways, their caretakers told them: "Only some of your feelings are valid.  Only a portion of your feelings and behaviors are permitted.' Instead of helping our partners repair this emotional damage, we are adding further injury.
 

The Mirroring Exercise

"Mirroring" is the name of a communication technique that serves two important functions: 1) it helps you the semantic differences between you and your partner, and 2) it trains you to become more receptive to your partner's spoken messages.  Mirroring is a deceptively simple exercise that is commonly used by marital therapists.  When one of you has something to communicate, whether it's a thought or a feeling, you simply state it in a short, declarative sentence starting with the word "I": "I enjoyed talking about our problems last night." Your partner then paraphrases your remark and asks for confirmation: "You are glad that we took the time last night to talk about the things that are bothering us.  Am I understanding you correctly?" You repeat this process until your partner clearly understands both the semantic and the emotional content of .what you are saying.  Then you move on to another statement.  That's all there is to it, but this deliberate style of communication is so foreign to most couples that it usually requires a great deal of practice.
Here's an example of the many problems people can have with the Mirroring exercise.  The following conversation took place at a weekend workshop ,when I asked a couple to volunteer to come to the front of the group and talk about a sensitive issue, just as they would at home.  Greg and Sheila, a young couple who had been living together for only a few months, volunteered.  Greg started the conversation.

GREG: Sheila, I'm really bothered by your smoking, and I'd like you to be more considerate when you smoke around me.

Because I had yet to introduce Sheila and Greg to the Mirroring exercise, Sheila followed her natural instincts and responded with an automatic defense:

SHEILA: You knew that I smoked when you asked me to live
with you.  You accepted that fact in the beginning.  Why are you always so critical of me?  You should accept me as I am.  You know that I'm trying to cut down.

Greg, operating on automatic pilot, returned her remarks with an intensified criticism.  The conversation was turning into a tennis match.

GREG: I acknowledge your efforts to smoke less.  But I find it interesting that, when we come here and the sign in the dining room says '"No Smoking," you follow it.  Yet I feel invaded at home with the smell of tobacco smoke all over the place.

SHEILA: Well, this is not my home.  And I feel I have a right to smoke in my own home!

Sheila delivered this last message with some force, and there was a smattering of applause from the crowd.  The score was love-fifteen.  It was time for me to referee.

HENDRIX: OK.  Let's start this all over again and see if we can turn it into an exercise in communication, not confrontation.  Greg, would you repeat your opening statement?

GREG: I'm really glad that we're making a home together, but, with regard to your smoking, when we joined together I didn't realize how difficult it was going to be for me.

HENDRIX: OK.  Now I would like you to simplify that statement so it will be easier to understand.
GREG: You see.... Your smoking bothers me.  I didn't think it would at first, but it does.

HENDRIX: Good.  Now, Sheila, I want you to paraphrase
Greg, trying to mirror his feelings and thoughts without criticizing him or defending yourself.  Then I want you to ask Greg if you have heard him correctly.

SHEILA: I'm truly sorry that my smoking interferes-

HENDRIX: No, I'm not asking you to apologize.  Just reflect back to Greg what he was saying, and show your understanding and acceptance of his feelings.

SHEILA: Could he possibly repeat himself.

GREG: Your smoking bothers me.  I didn't think it would at first, but it does.

HENDRIX: Now, try to feed that back to him with receptive warmth.

SHEILA: I think I'd rather stop smoking! (Group laughter.)

HENDRIX: Take a deep breath and be aware that he is experiencing some discomfort at one of your behaviors.  Rather than hearing it as a criticism of your behavior, hear it with concern for his well-being.  Whether it's justified or not, he is feeling uncomfortable, and you care about him.  I know this is hard to do in front of a lot of people, and I know that this is an issue you feel strongly about.

SHEILA: What could be done-

HENDRIX: No, don't try to solve it.  You just want to para­phrase his message and the emotional content behind it, so that he knows that you understand what he is feeling.

SHEILA: (Takes a deep breath.) OK.  I think I get it now.  I understand that it really bothers you that I smoke.  You didn't realize how much it would bother you until we actually started living together.  Now you are very troubled by it.  Is that what you are saying?

HENDRIX: Excellent.  I could hear Greg's concern reflected in your voice.  Did that check out with you, Greg?  Is she hearing what you have to say?
GREG: Yes!  That's just how I feel.  What a relief! This is the first time she's ever really bothered to listen to me.

As Greg's reaction shows, there is a tremendous satisfaction in simply being heard, in knowing that your message has been received exactly as you sent it.  This is a rare phenomenon in most marriages.  After demonstrating this exercise for workshop groups, I send the couples back to their rooms so they can practice sending and receiving simple statements.  Invariably they return to the group reporting that it was a novel, exhilarating experience.  It is such an unexpected luxury to have your partner's full attention.
     Couples often have another, surprising reaction to this exercise.  When a person is effectively mirrored, he or she instantly feels more energetic.  I see this upsurge in energy whenever couples use the mirroring technique, but the effect is even more pronounced in young children.  The other day my daughter came running into my study to tell me about a movie she had seen called The Island of the Blue Dolphins. She said to me, "Daddy, I saw a movie about a big blue fish!'
     I could have responded in various ways.  I could have said a flat "Oh." I could have smiled.  I could have asked her to calm down and speak more slowly.  Instead I said with equal enthusiasm, "Oh, you saw a movie about a big blue fish!"
     She jumped into my arms and said, "Yes!  I did!  I loved it!"
     "And you loved the movie very much!" I said, striving to match her excitement.
     "Yes!!  I did!" she cried.  Leah was now vibrant with energy.  Her father was not only listening to her and understanding her, but also mirroring her excitement.  As adults we have learned to be more guarded in our response, but there is no denying the energy that floods through us when our partners understand what we are thinking and feeling.  We feel better about ourselves; we feel closer to them.
     A longer-lasting and more important consequence of the Mirroring exercise is that it begins to heal the many splits of our childhood.  We were wounded in childhood by parents and teachers and relatives who told us, "You don't feel that," "You don't think that." When our partners step out of this chorus of denial and say to us, "I understand that you really do feel and think that way," our entire being is validated.  We no longer feel that we have to cut off parts of ourselves to be loved and accepted.  We can begin to be the complex, multifaceted people that we really are and still find acceptance in the world.
 

Imago Workup

Once couples have mastered this basic communication technique, I introduce them to another information-gathering tool, a guided imagery exercise that helps them become better acquainted with their childhood wounds.  When the exercise is completed, I have them share their observations with each other, using the mirroring technique.  This is an effective way for couples to begin to see each other as they really are, as wounded beings on a quest for spiritual wholeness.
     Before the exercise begins, I ask the couples to close their eyes and relax.  I often put on some soothing music to help them shut out distractions.  When they are sufficiently relaxed, I ask them to try to remember their childhood home, the earliest one they can recall.  When the vision begins to take shape, I tell them to see themselves as very young children wandering through the house searching for their caretakers.  The first person they meet is their mother, or whichever female caretaker was most influential in their early years.  I tell them that they are suddenly endowed with magical powers and can see these women's positive and negative character traits with crystal clarity.  They are to note these characteristics and then imagine themselves telling their mothers what they always wanted from them and never got.
     In a similar manner, I have them encounter their fathers, or primary male caretakers, and then any other people who had a profound influence on them in their formative years.  When they have gathered all the information they can about these key people, I slowly bring them back to reality and have them open their eyes and write the information down on a piece of paper.
     I am often surprised by how much information people can gain from this simple exercise.  For example, a young man did the exercise and realized for the first time how lonely and isolated he had felt as a child.  He had blocked out this crucial piece of information, because it hadn't made any sense to him.  How could he feel lonely in a family with four children, a minister for a father, and a devoted homemaker for a mother?  In his fantasy, however, he had searched and searched around the house for his father, never to find him.  When he encountered his mother, his spontaneous question to her was "Why are you always so busy?  Can't you see that I need you?" Having these insights helped him understand his chronic depression.  "Until this moment," he said, "my sadness has always been a mystery to me."
     Once people have completed the guided-imagery exercise, they have the information they need to construct their imagos, the inner images of the opposite sex that guided them in mate selection.  All they need to do is group together the positive and negative traits of all the key people from their childhood, highlighting the traits that affected them the most.  These are the traits that they were looking for in a mate.
     When this work is completed, I ask couples to share what they have learned.  I ask them to listen to each other with full attention, making no effort to interpret each other's remarks, enlarge upon diem, compare them with their own, or analyze them.  The only allowable comments are mirroring comments that indicate the degree of their understanding.  By doing this exercise, husbands and -,wives begin to see behind each other's neurotic, puzzling, or compulsive behavior to the wounds they are trying to heal.  This creates a more compassionate, supportive emotional climate.
     The first five exercises in Part III are designed to help you gather information about your past and get a better idea of how your unmet childhood needs influence your relationship.  But once you learn to open your eyes, every interaction between you and your partner, whether spoken or unspoken, can become a valuable source of information.

Chapter 10

contents of book

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