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The Attachment Conference
We just attended the sixth annual attachment conference here in Los Angeles. A similarly
themed conference will be held later in Boston. Attendance is growing rapidly from year to
year, indicating that Attachment Theory is on a path to becoming one of the central organizing
schema for mental health. Presentations at this conference were highly congenial to our worldview.
The theme of the conference was “The Embodied Mind,” with an emphasis on the role of the
body. So talks variously took up the topics of self-regulation strategies, movement-based
therapies, and mindfulness very respectfully.
The impetus for this theoretical preoccupation traces back to the traditional psychoanalytic
concern with infant and early childhood development as setting the stage for the quality
of adult functioning. The themes here are unabashedly grand and encompassing, a worthy antidote
to the highly compartmentalized thrusts of modern psychopharmacology. Admixed to this fundamentally
psychodynamic perspective are now the findings of modern neuroscience, through the work of
people such as Dan Siegel and Allan Schore.
Dan Siegel
In his leadoff talk, Dan Siegel set the stage by highlighting the need for a multi-disciplinary
approach to an “interpersonal neurobiology,” one in which the “objective demands of science
and the subjective domains of human knowing can find a common home.” How utterly refreshing.
The affective development of the infant occurs in relationship, and hence cannot ultimately
be understood apart from relationship. The sinews of connectivity that bind the nervous system
of “Mother” to that of the child are essential to the neurophysiological development of the
child from the earliest moments, and hence cannot be segregated in any scientific enterprise
worthy of our attentions. Not only does the mind-brain dichotomy lose meaning in this context,
but even the boundary of the self must be breached in our emerging developmental models.
Siegel asked, “How do you awaken the mind to the wisdom of the body…” and then reported
on his own venture into mindfulness exercise through a six-day retreat in the company of
mostly neuroscientists who were also experienced meditators. The regimen allowed a mere ten
minutes a day for verbal communication with a mentor—beyond that not even non-verbal communication
or even eye contact. He found the experience rather unnerving (“I think I am going crazy…”).
It was nice to see neuroscientists appreciating the virtues of meditation, but this is not
the remedy for those less solidly put together than Siegel himself.
Of course I could not help double-tracking while listening to Siegel, and reflecting on
the fact that neurofeedback can also be considered as a mindfulness exercise in that it keeps
you within the present moment, and gives you nothing to do except to be in the company of
your own gently idling brain for the duration. The difference is that we conduct this little
exercise as close as possible to the state in which the person functions best, and we don’t
overload the circuits or overstay the course. The challenge is served up in manageable bites,
and we assure that nothing distracts the person from the process.
With the above as introduction, the audience was then led in a mindfulness exercise involving
movement and the breath. The pacing appeared much too fast to me, and I realized that the
room was probably populated by many rapid breathers and perhaps over-breathers. Who, after
all, shows up at a conference of therapists where one of the leading topics is trauma resolution?
Steve Porges
Steve Porges, developmental psychologist from the University of Illinois, and co-Director
of the Brain-Body Center there, spoke of his poly-vagal theory to model the regulation of
social behavior through a process he calls neuroception. The latter refers to the neural
processes that organize responses across the whole continuum of safe, dangerous, and life-threatening
environments.
The poly-vagal theory integrates a variety of regulatory functions that cover us over the
whole continuum from safety to danger to threat, and involving in particular the autonomic
regulation of the heart and gut. “The neuroscience of experience is at the level of the brainstem.”
The unmyelinated old vagus nerve mediates the life-preserving immobilization of the system
in the presence of extreme threat, and in absence of an ability to execute the flight/flight
response. This mechanism was bequeathed to us by our more reptilian ancestors, where it was
more clearly functional. For the mammalian brain, it may be catastrophic. And at the time
of birth, we come into the world with our reptilian brain engaged. With fight/flight options
foreclosed, it is here that our early responses to threats are physiologically encoded. This
is the trauma response, which then eventuates in a disregulation cascade that can cast its
shadow over the rest of life. Moreover, programmed responding is characteristic of much of
the neuro-regulatory system of social interacting, with the consequence that “social behavior
does not fall very well under the laws of learning.” “We find this out as parents…” We must
therefore have a neurophysiological remedy for what is in essence a neurophysiologically
encoded dysfunction.
Porges seemed to be yet another psychologist with the heart of a clinician and the mind
of a scientist. He is developing therapies based on his poly-vagal theory. One clinical approach
that emerged out of this work is a listening program for autistic children in which they
were given to hear voices with exaggerated prosody. The theoretical basis is the existence
of an efferent auditory system that actively selects the human voice out of background sounds.
Because of common neuro-developmental pathways, it is assumed that the gentle challenge to
that system will generalize to improved state regulation overall. The result in short order
was a change in the localization of their gaze when it came to faces. The avoidance of eye
contact typical of autistics was in fact substantially resolved in two of the case histories
presented.
In his work, he is confirming the principle that “less stimulation is more effective for
a challenged nervous system,” a principle on which we also operate in neurofeedback. A second
principle is that the intervention must take place in a safe environment. This again sounds
familiar to those of us in neurofeedback, as our work is conducted under the most benign
circumstances imaginable for any nervous system.
Porges acknowledges the difficulty of bringing science into clinical practice. “We cannot
allow clinical research to be gatekeepers of new methods into practice…..” he pronounced,
without fear of contradiction from this audience. Other gems poured off his tongue: “Medicine
does not respect the body.” And finally, “The billing code for healthy medical practices
will not make it.”
It is just amazing to see the degree of convergence taking place between ourselves and someone
like Porges who has taken such a very different path. Brainstem regulation is looming increasingly
larger in our conceptions. It is the centrality of the most basic arousal-related (and defense-related)
functions (read brainstem) that allows our key training methods to be so utterly simple and
straight-forward. Brainstem regulation is the foundation for everything else that matters
in the self-regulation regime. And it is with respect to brainstem regulation that the traditional
(psychodynamic) approaches fall most tragically short. No alternative exists but for us to
learn the language of the body.
Ed Tronick
Ed Tronick, developmental psychologist at Harvard, talked on the social and emotional development
in normal and compromised infants. He showed imagery from “still-face” experiments with infants
to demonstrate the strong negative emotional reaction of infants to the lack of responsiveness
from the mother. The infant’s distress was immediate and persistent. Tronick’s postdoc employed
galvanic skin response (GSR) and heart rate variability (HRV) measurements on the infant
to document the susceptibility. “Developmental researchers have not used these systems for
thirty years because they thought they were inactive. My post-doc didn’t know that, so he
used them anyway…” The GSR measurement swung widely and wildly during the ‘still-face’ epoch,
and rose even further during the reunion phase. This was one of a number of times during
the conference when I felt that those of us involved in applied psychophysiology must be
living in some parallel universe.
Two observations follow: The infants’ behavioral neurophysiological and somatic capacities
are overwhelmed in the short term by such unmanageable stress, and become dysfunctional and
toxic to development in the long run. Further, the failure of self-regulation in general
is self-amplifying. The hazard to infant development is particularly grave if the caregiver
is the source of the threat in the early phases.
Tronick observes that there is no diagnosis appropriate for the traumatized infant. Forty
years ago this was referred to as Trauma X because it was difficult to conceive of it actually
happening. By now it is clear that the mechanisms of implicit memory are accessible at birth,
and recent memory research has elaborated a larger capacity even for explicit event memory
in the pre-verbal infant. One way or another the causal influences of trauma in mental health
need to be acknowledged—either by carving out a distinct category, or by recognizing that
the trauma model has considerable explanatory power across a wide range of the canonical
disorders.
Onno van der Hart
Onno van der Hart concentrated his talk on dissociation. “Personality at its best is highly
integrated. Should that not also be the case for a science of the personality?” Indeed, but
how is that to come about? If the integration of the personality can be described in psychological
terms, the disintegration of the personality certainly cannot be adequately described without
a neurophysiological model. Fortunately, the dissociated personality that has been identified
since the turn of the last century (Pierre Janet) has its direct mirror in the language of
neurophysiology through the theory of networks.
It is networks that organize integration and dissociation. And it is the theory of networks
that allows us to understand how different personalities can be organized on the same cortical
real estate, and using the same neuronal resources, and yet be completely unaware of one
another in one person and yet coexist simultaneously in another. The “integration” between
them runs on a complete continuum from one extreme to the other. The organization of the
momentary engagement and disengagement of neuronal networks will turn out to be the heart
of self-regulation in the mental health perspective. And as we already know, it is through
neurofeedback that the connectivity between such networks becomes directly accessible to
us. As it happens, the word network was not used once in this entire conference. That will
surely be different in coming years.
Onno spoke of “life lived at the surface of consciousness” as the available option for the
traumatized person. Erich Maria Remarque said of traumatic memory: “It is too dangerous for
me to put these things into words. I am afraid they might become gigantic and I may no longer
be able to master them” (All Quiet on the Western Front, p.165, 1929). A member of a family
of Holocaust survivors said: “The moment any Holocaust memory or shred of a memory would
come up we would fight it…”
The implication for us in neurofeedback is that the “constricted life” carved out as a modus
vivendi by the traumatized brain prescribes for us the very zone of provisional safety that
is required for productive work to proceed on the agenda of self-regulation. This is where
it all has to start. The work must largely be done without awakening the defenses, and without
tossing the individual back into the maelstrom of his own disregulations. We would not do
psychotherapy with a person while tossed on the high seas in a perfect storm. Similarly,
we must work with trauma to the degree possible without reawakening it.
Onno also discussed whether dissociation might be the underlying issue in some cases of
other disorders. He recalled for us the following vignette on the denial of dissociation.
A visiting professor from a university in the USA, lecturing in Norway on his research on
bipolar disorder in children, presented a case in which there was obvious polarity in the
child. Onno was reminded of working with a person with DID. The child would switch between
being a very good and a very bad person, and he would switch very quickly. He suggested to
the lecturer that this might be a dissociative condition rather than a case of bipolar disorder.
The lecturer dismissed the thought: “That does not exist,” and cut off further discussion.
At the end of the lecture it became apparent that the audience agreed with the lecturer.
“We are still very obedient to authority in our country…” lamented Onno.
Beyond being another illustration of that fateful combination of “arrogance and naiveté”
that is so commonplace among professionals whenever established science has not yet displaced
the aura of personal authority, there may be less difference here than meets the eye. In
the language of networks, the state shifts we see in bipolar disorder may not be very different
from the ones we see in dissociation. More importantly, the remedy may be essentially the
same in both cases. In neurofeedback, we would approach both in first instances as instabilities
to be remedied. Pharmacologically both perspectives might lead to the same set of remedies
as well.
That, however, is only the “Ansatz” to complete resolution. Network stability is only the
first minimal condition to be met on the road to progress. In the end the bipolar model would
not lead one to consider a trauma etiology, and that would be the significant downside from
an improper diagnosis. This leaves us where we already are in our society: Trauma remains
the largely unacknowledged stealth diagnosis, without a label to reify the condition and
to organize our thinking. “The level of suffering that we work with [has been] historically
denied…”
Speaking also in the voice of a clinician, Onno said that one clearly needs a specific treatment
here. “There is no placebo response.” And he quoted Richard Kluft to the effect that “…the
slower you go, the faster you get there…” Indeed, we are not in Euclidean space here. This
again mirrors our experience in neurofeedback, where the challenges are so subtle and miniscule
that in some instances they almost defy detection. The brain reacts differently to such a
subtle, covert provocation than it does to a larger, overt challenge.
Bessel van der Kolk
Bessel van der Kolk spoke to the theme of Mind/Body integration by highlighting the connection
of the trauma response to the failure of the fight-flight mechanism in particular, and to
our agency through the control of movement in generality. “The worst form of PTSD may be
waking in the course of a surgical procedure and being unable to tell the surgeon that you
are awake.” So a partial remedy may be sought in movement-based or other body-based therapies.
Van der Kolk came to this also through a personal experience. Having observed that his own
heart variability measure was flat-lining, he found yoga practice helpful in restoring the
proper dynamics. But things did not start there. He had been in China at about the time of
the Tienanmen massacre, and despite all the tumult he could see people gathering at the local
park in the morning doing Tai Chi. “Why weren’t they in their therapists’ offices talking
about their mothers?” he asked rhetorically.
So at the same time that van der Kolk was getting interested in movement-based therapies,
he remained somewhat skeptical, even contemptuous, of the psychodynamic approach to trauma
resolution, one that he himself had relied upon for years as a psychiatrist. “The rational
brain does not have pathways to the emotional brain.” “Action patterns and hormonal responses
are mobilized by the emotional brain, impervious to conscious control.” Hence that must set
the agenda for a strategy of remediation.
“Traumatized people have a difficult time feeling themselves part of the present.”
“Would we not be better off working on treatments that help people to function here, rather
than focus on the events of the past?”
“People can become quite readily flooded by old stuff…”
“Let’s help people gain awareness of their own physical selves.”
Van der Kolk pointed out that every Nobel Prize in physiology in the twentieth century reflected
the understanding of the centrality of movement in brain organization: Pavlov, Sherrington,
Tinbergen, Lorenz, von Frisch, and Edelman. He personally ranks Pavlov almost at the level
of Darwin as a scientist, and recalled Pavlov’s report from when his laboratory was once
flooded by a rising Dnieper River. His dogs were traumatized, and subsequently engaged in
immobility, or in irrelevant behavior. “They had lost their reflexive purpose.” This occurred
just one year after Pavlov sustained his own trauma, as his son had been killed fighting
the Bolsheviks.
At the end of his talk, van der Kolk showed video of a drama and dance production involving
inner-city youth---perhaps to suggest a kind of unification of movement-based and psychodynamic
work. Of course I had seen his whole prior talk as leading up to neurofeedback as the final
resolution, and therefore saw his crisp scientific presentation somewhat dissipated in the
final “soft” message. After all, van der Kolk talked of the breakdown of cortical timing
in PTSD. He said that PTSD is all about the integrity of brainstem functioning, through its
management of autonomic arousal. That all sounded very promising. This matches up very well
with where we are in neurofeedback, where matters concern brainstem functioning first and
foremost, and where our methods are directly and explicitly targeting the integrity of brain
timing.
If truth be told, trauma is not resolved through movement per se, but more fundamentally
through the organization of movement---that is to say, through the honing of regulatory control.
The objective is enhanced self-regulation, and the most accessible pathway may be through
movement. As we have found also, when one trains the brain in such a central function as
the organization of movement, other regulatory faculties such as emotional regulation and
pain threshold are influenced as well. From the standpoint of regulation, we are constituted
of a network of nested regulatory networks, and it is no more possible to affect them in
isolation than it is to vibrate only one portion of a spider’s web.
The field of traumatology and of affect regulation has reached the point of recognizing
the centrality of physiological self-regulation in the resolution of trauma. Isolated data
are being attended to, such as the helpful quality of movement therapies and of massage,
and including the utility of techniques such as EMDR. However, none of this yet fits an over-arching
model. Whereas movement takes one out of the immediacy of trauma, EMDR ushers one into it.
There is no coherency to the separate agendas. From our perspective, EMDR is a window into
one part of the EEG frequency spectrum. It represents no more than a small part of the story
when it comes to the domain of time and frequency in the organization of brain function.
At the end of his talk I suggested to van der Kolk that a whole discipline already existed
around the scientific investigation and systematic training of self-regulation. It is called
biofeedback. Why is this emerging community of professionals now reinventing the whole field
step by laborious step, when in fact an organized community of professionals has been continuously
engaged with this topic for decades? How is it possible that these two professional communities
can coexist with essentially no cross-talk? Affect regulation should be a dominant theme
in the biofeedback community, and in turn biofeedback and neurofeedback should be the dominant
theme in the treatment of trauma specifically, and of affect regulation generally.
Allan Schore
Allan Schore carried forward and elaborated the theme of the “embodiment” of trauma. Early
infant trauma disrupts not only the developmental pathways toward affect regulation, but
more generally. “What you have is an organism that no longer has available the mechanisms
by which the infant normally organizes the body. They don’t create the body…” Hence, there
must be bodywork as well as relational work. And when Allen refers to the body, it is not
just to motor function. He includes interoception, our sensation and awareness of our interior
selves, and the smooth muscle system.
Allan Schore reminded the audience that seeing the process of dissociation in emotional
terms is rather recent. It has traditionally been described in strictly cognitive terms,
and is so described to this day in the DSMIV. The ICD10 in Europe is moving toward more of
a body focus.
“At the psychosomatic core of self, trauma is experienced as psychic death.”
“Pathological dissociation, not repression, is the major block to therapeutic process…”
Not only is the rational domain somewhat disconnected from the emotional, but the right hemisphere
encodes a very different life experience emotionally than the left. Because the right hemisphere
has to be addressed non-verbally, successful psychotherapy must be “an inherently embodied
process.”
He quotes Weinberg: “When the right hemisphere collapses, the person lives in the self-sufficient,
detached world of the left hemisphere. This mode of experience is determined by narrow-mindedness
and search for new evidence supporting existing beliefs coupled with inability to verify
them critically and reject them following contradictory feedback.”
Summary
The above paragraph holds a lot of explanatory power. In a positive and survival sense,
the refuge of left-hemisphere functioning allows unremediated trauma to survive and navigate
this world. On the positive side also, this zone of functioning is our preferred point of
departure in neurofeedback. We start with where the person already functions competently,
and proceed from there to enlarge the scope of functioning incrementally and gently. Movement
therapies do the same. They may get to the heart of things to some extent, but they are distanced
from the trauma itself. By placing the body-based therapies first, the trauma itself need
never to be touched until it is already transformed.
We can also recognize in this paragraph a pathology in the world at large. Does this description
not characterize our current Administration? On the larger scale, does it not characterize
our Judeo-Christian religion, both in its Judaic origins among a nomadic people—unmoored
from emotional ties to place on mother earth—and in its present beleagurement? Closer to
home, does it not characterize our own field of biofeedback? For many years I have tried
to understand the self-deprecations of our professional organizations in terms of a trauma
model, in view of the “near-death experience” neurofeedback suffered in the mid-seventies.
What has emerged since that time is an almost unbelievable rigidity of mind, of constriction
of vision, of reduction to stereotypic action, of the abandonment of autonomous mental activity,
and of the abject capitulation and collapse in the face of threat.
Biofeedback organizations reflect the pathology of dissociation everywhere one looks—both
in its cognitive and affective aspects. Maybe it is our own organizational trauma that prevents
us from recognizing our need for the very methods of recovery that we have developed for
others. We may have collectively taken refuge in our rational left hemispheres. We are suspicious
of the passionate commitment of the clinician. We delight in a withering skepticism that
levels all. Maybe the Winter Brain Conference got off the ground so well in the early nineties
because of that hot tub in Key West, so lively most years that the police were sometimes
summoned to quiet us down.
We are, finally, confronted with the paradox that trauma can only be resolved through the
agency of those mental health professionals who actually understand the issue, and are prepared
to engage with it. On the other hand, those same professionals are universally psychodynamically
oriented and understandably find themselves challenged by the traumatized patient. They are
reinforced in their interventions because these tend to put the clinician at the center of
the drama. How can they be persuaded that engaging the trauma experience head-on, whether
through traditional analytic techniques or even with EMDR, may be a mistake?
For the most abject of trauma histories, a stealth strategy is needed that builds self-regulation
from the ground up, a kind of recapitulation of the developmental processes that is available
even at a relatively late stage. All the neuronal pathways are available for the learning
or re-learning of self-regulation in the affective and arousal domains. Any living brain
exhibits the requisite functional plasticity to make this possible. Not only that, but techniques
of self-regulation adequate to the task of trauma resolution are by now well known within
the domain of neurofeedback.
Siegfried Othmer
Healing Trauma: Attachment, Mind, Body, and Brain
by Marion F. Solomon (Editor), Daniel J. Siegel (Editor), Marion Solomon
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