“To the precise extent that we permit these” (Page 66, Big Book)
I did not consciously start to take control of my thought life until my 30s. I had therefore spent decades letting thoughts run amok.
The fact is that attack narratives (grievance, fear, self-reproach, cynicism, gloom) are entirely optional.
They won’t feel optional if one’s been letting them run for decades.
But they are.
What does one do?
Spot one.
Shut it down.
Substitute a new one (or a song, a poem, a quotation, reading, thinking deliberately about something good, whatever).
This is very easy to do.
Right now, think of the Eiffel Tower, and create a mental image of it. Now imagine a potter at his wheel. Now imagine Mongol hordes streaming over the plains of central Asia. Now imagine a Christmas tree.
Now, if you know one, sing a line from a favourite cheerful or joyful song, or recite a line from a favourite poem (just not a miserable or angry one). If you do not know one, look it up and sing the lyrics or read out the poem, out loud.
In other words, for the old narrative, substitute a new one, or better than that, speak a new one out.
Speech is more powerful than thought, because it entails thought but adds a layer.
Under no circumstances talk about the negative narrative.
That will undo all the good work.
If you can imagine, sing, recite, read, or read out, you can do this.
That’s about as hard as it gets. It’s literally never harder than that.
Now, the narrative will try to reactivate itself.
Shut it down and substitute.
And the narrative will try to reactivate itself.
Shut it down and substitute.
Rinse and repeat.
Eventually it goes away and the new way(s) of thinking become(s) normal and natural.
Provided the underlying work (four through nine) takes place, the changes then become permanent.