Notes from Dr Laura Walton

Beliefs That Block

Our brains have a built-in setting which, when we are placed under stress, can drive us to latch on to the first available explanation that seems viable enough to make sense of what’s happening. Think about minor incidents like tripping or spilling something: “who put that there!? (blame a person)” or “I’m so clumsy” (place blame on self). When in reality, the world is very complex and there are always multiple factors feeding in to any outcome.

But we still like to grab hold of a simple, tidy explanation.

The reason we do this, we think, is because if something is happening that is uncomfortable or psychologically painful, we’re driven to find a cause, so that we can create a solution and remove the source of this discomfort. There is also uncertainty: when things suddenly change, we encounter the unpredicatable nature of reality, and that’s scary. Even a little problem can remind us that anything can happen at anytime: that we are not fully in control! In jumping on to a particular cause and holding tightly to it, we increase our sense of certainty and our sense of control.

Just having and holding that explanation can be really rewarding for that reason. It just makes us feel better, so we can tend to cling hard.

In any given occurrence or scenario, when something happens, there are always going to be multiple contributors to why that happened. If the explanation we’ve landed on is fully correct, and addressing it fixes the entire issue, then that’s great. However, what often happens is that, at a later time, we can be in other situations that aren’t quite the same, yet we still hold tightly to that original explanation. A satisfying causal explanation is rewarding to us, sometimes we’re really reluctant to let it go, even if it’s getting in our way.

How do beliefs block us?

It could be that it is genuinely a particular task that you do, a day-to-day task, something that you do in your work or your hobby, a particular skill, or an experience that you have repeatedly. If you’ve decided that this one thing is the cause, you mayput a bubble around it, protect it, and try to set up defences against it to make sure that it doesn’t happen.

If you think of all the people you know, you can probably think immediately of people who have specific things that they will not tolerate. For example, some people are very against having the window open because they believe that it causes them a cold. Potentially, they had a cold in the past after leaving the window open, and they’ve decided that this was the ultimate cause of the problem. Now they will never let anybody open the window around them.

It could also be that you have a particular way of doing a task because there was one time that it didn’t go very well, and you decided the whole reason for it not going well was based on this one particular aspect, this one thing that you did wrong that one time. Now you avoid ever doing that thing again. Or, if it’s something that you can’t avoid, you resist it in some other way, such as complaining or procrastinating. We do it, but we still resist it, and that increases our tension around it.

Sometimes these explanations are just around in the background. But when we get stuck and we’re trying to make progress, whether that’s to improve our skills, improve our mental health, or do some new things in life, what we sometimes find is that when we try to move forward, these explanations actually start to create a problem.

They’ve been given this elevated status as a real lever to pull, to acheive control overthe situation. They’ve been given the status of: if I do this, then I will be okay, and I will feel okay. They have a lot of power. When that’s working for us, it’s helpful. But when it’s not working for us, what it actually does is decrease our power.

Attention blindspots that block awareness

Sometimes, we cling so tightly to that original explanation that it sucks in our attention and becomes a blind spot. It has been given the status as the cause. And because we beleive that we know the cause, our brain stops looking at the whole complex web of interacting causes. The explanation that we grabbed quickly, because it was handy, now blocks the view. We are not able to see, and not even looking for, other potential aspects of the situation that we could act upon. If we knew about this other causes, we may find easier ways to respond differently, and help us move forward.

In that sense, the explanation itself becomes a barrier. It can create a kind of tunnel vision, where more and more of our attention becomes focused on this one explanation, while other possibilities become harder to see.

Blocking beliefs are things we have decided about ourselves, or the world, that prevent us from discovering new ways of responding to similar situations. They can be things like:

“I can’t handle stress”

“If I make a mistake, something bad will happen.”

“I willnever get over this problem.”

But they can also just be simple points of explanation that have become anchors for how to function in a particular situation or scenario. Like believing there is a specific way to use a tool, or only one way to carry out a particular process (and being surprised when other people suceed with different methods). And that is fine when what you know is working for you, but it may not always work as well as we think. Sometimes we do not notice that we are doing something in hard mode. In this way, some beliefs can wear us down or keep us stuck.

We can’t see our own blocks

Not only can beliefs create blind spots, we also tend to be blind to them.

So when they’re challenged, either just by circumstances, by another person, or by a therapist directly pointing it out. We might find is that there’s a tightening around that original explanation. When we are not aware, defences are activated. As you become more aware of it, you may be able to tune into that tightening, that resistance to letting go of the anchor.

And we are reluctant to let go. Because that explanation has served you really well in the past. It’s given you an escape from uncertainty, distress and discomfort, and we can become really reluctant to let go of it. Even when it no longer serves a useful purpose.

What can we do about it?

Detecting these explanations, whether they’re blocking beliefs or simply unhelpful explanations, can actually be really difficult.

Some of the practices you can use to get to them are reflective practices, guided practices, journalling, therapy, reflective conversations with people, and inviting feedback from other people, even if it’s friends or colleagues. The aim is to try to get the perspective on things opened up. Being able to notice that resistance can also be really helpful.

Once you’ve identified an explanation, it’s essential to try to hold it more lightly. Even if you 100% believe that it’s true, still hold it a little more lightly.

See if you can step back from it, maybe being more curious and asking questions like:

Is this always the case?

Yes, I believe it’s completely true, but is it always the case under every circumstance?

When might it be possible that this explanation might not apply?

What else is here?

Are there any other explanations around this?

Yes, I can take this as true, but are there other truths around this situation that might be more helpful to me?

And an especially good question to ask is, rather than focusing on the truth of the explanation, ask yourself: is it useful?

Is it helping you go in the direction that you want to go in?

If it’s not, it may be that it’s worth letting go, no matter how true it is.

The belief may well be true

To identify a blocking belief is not to say that it is untrue or incorrect. For example, I have a recurring kind of explanation for why I can’t get things done, which is: there’s not enough time. If you think objectively, yes, time is a limited resource. There are a certain number of hours in the day, and we have other things that we need to do, so there is always going to be a limit in terms of our time. And we age, so our time gets curtailed at some point.

However, is it useful for me to cling tightly and hold on to this particular belief that I do not have enough time? Because if I hold really tightly to that, what I actually do is increase my stress, decrease my belief in myself to be able to do something, and weaken my ability to do something. So although objectively we might be able to say that it’s true that time has some limitations on it, the explanation I do not have enough time is not necessarily always going to be helpful to me.

Sometimes, then, the question isn’t whether we can prove an explanation wrong. We might still think it’s true. It’s whether we can loosen our grip on it enough to see what else is there, what else might also be true, and what might actually help us move in the direction we want to go.

Notes from Dr Laura Walton

Understanding Shame: The Emotion We Often Don’t Know We’re Feeling

Shame is one of the most fascinating emotions I work with, and one of the least understood. Unlike fear or sadness, shame is often invisible even to the person feeling it. Many people come to therapy dealing with panic, anxiety, or a pattern they can’t explain, with no idea that shame is sitting underneath it.

This post is an introduction to what shame actually is, why we have it at all, and what we can do when it becomes a problem rather than a help. I have collected together some of my favourite resources on shame.

What is shame, really?

A good starting point is Brené Brown’s research, which did more than almost anyone’s to bring shame out of the shadows and into public conversation.

The Power of Vulnerability: Brené Brown, TED →

Listening to Shame: Brené Brown, TED →

Between them, these two talks describe shame as something almost everyone experiences but almost no one talks about, and show how much of it operates quietly, shaping our behaviour without our full awareness.

Shame isn’t the enemy: it has a job to do

It would be easy to conclude from this that shame is simply bad, and something to get rid of. In fact, for quite a long time I thought that was what I needed to help people to do. But I would tend to find people were reluctant to let go of shame. Some people were able to tell me that they thought it was important to have shame … and I realised they were right.

Shame does something useful: it helps us understand where the edges are in our relationships and our communities. It’s part of what helps us notice when we might be overstepping a boundary, or at risk of hurting someone, or of putting a relationship at risk. In that sense, shame is a social emotion, one that helps us stay connected to the people around us.

What we want is an adaptive shame response that helps us to function.

This is explored well in a talk by Lisa Etherson, a psychosexual therapist and researcher who has developed something called Shame Containment Theory:

If you want to change your life, change your relationship with shame: Lisa Etherson, TEDxUWS →

This is why we don’t want to try to remove shame altogether, even if that were possible. The problem isn’t that shame exists. It’s what happens when it gets out of hand.

When shame drives panic

Shame is deeply uncomfortable, and that discomfort often makes us want to get away from it as fast as possible. But here’s the difficulty: you cannot get away from an emotion by fighting it. Trying to push shame away doesn’t make it disappear; it tends to do the opposite.

A useful way to picture this is quicksand. If you panic and thrash against it, you sink faster. The instinct to fight is exactly what makes it worse. Emotions, shame included, tend to work the same way: struggling against the feeling is often what tips it over into a full state of fight-or-flight.

This is closely connected to something called experiential avoidance: the general pattern of trying to avoid or escape difficult internal experiences, which so often ends up amplifying them instead.

Contained shame and uncontained shame

One of the most useful things Lisa Etherson’s work offers is a distinction between two different experiences of shame:

  • Contained shame is the quieter, more chronic version: things like a persistent sense of not being good enough, imposter feelings, or a nagging self-criticism. It can sit underneath someone’s life for years without ever being named as shame.
  • Uncontained shame is the acute, overwhelming version: the “kick to the gut” experience of suddenly feeling exposed, often triggered by an unexpected event. This is the version most closely tied to panic, shutdown, or a sense that everything has fallen apart.

Recognising which one is present, and that shame is present at all, is often the turning point in therapy. Once it’s named, it becomes something we can actually work with.

What we can do about it

Over time, we all develop strategies to manage shame. Many of these strategies genuinely helped us once. The trouble is that we can outgrow them, or they can start to get in the way more than they help.

Often, I find that the shame people are carrying has outlived it’s usefulness.