Where Are You?

Answering this simple question is not necessarily easy. The first step in inner work is to go inside and notice where we are in relationship to ourselves. What does that mean, exactly? I’m going to break it down for you the way others broke it down for me.

Think of a simple, horizontal line, or better yet, draw one. When we’re Above the Line, we’re open and curious. When we’re Below the Line, we are the opposite: closed and defended.

Locating ourselves is about getting present.

I didn’t coin the popular Above the Line/Below the Line model; plenty of folks use it to describe personal accountability. I recommend the Conscious Leadership Group’s take on this, which they generously make available to anyone. I show their animated video of the model at the start of Enneagram classes while we chew on this concept.

One of my early Enneagram teachers, Dr. David Daniels, used to tell people that the only two things we need to bring to inner work are an open mind and an open heart—in other words, that’s right—to be Above the Line. David had a helpful phrase he used when people said things to him that he found curious: “Tell me more...” I’ve found that those three little words give me a helpful pause when taking in new information. If you were to call me judgmental, for example, things could get a little tricky inside of me. My personality type, Type One, called the Idealist, is one of the more judgmental types on the Enneagram. But if I’m truly Above the Line, I can invite you to “tell me more,” and mean it. Knowing that your impressions are based on something happening inside of you allows me to check out whatever feelings are happening inside me.

If I am Below the Line, however, being called judgmental could be another story. When I’m Below the Line, my mind is closed, my heart is closed—even my body language is closed. I’m not open to your opinions; I already have one too many of my own. This Below the Line business is not pretty. I’ve got a great cover. I’m excellent at looking like I’m above the line even when I’m way below it. I am so good at this that I can not only deceive you, but I can really snow myself. If we want to get serious about doing inner work, it starts with being aware of and honest about where we find ourselves—no matter where that might be.

Are you still with me?

Being Below the Line is not a permanent condition, neither is being above; it’s a moment-to-moment thing. As people get used to this practice, they sometimes say, “I’m Above the Line today.” All day? I doubt it. No one is Above the Line all the time—Peacemakers (Type Nines) lose contact with their inner peace, the Enthusiasts (Type Sevens) fear they’ll get stuck in pain, and even the Helpers (Type Twos) get miffed that no one is taking care of them. We’re like freaking EKG machines going up and down, all day long. It’s the human condition. The goal is not to always be anything; rather, it’s to know where we are in any given moment. Once we accept that, we can ask ourselves other questions about our inner state, like whether the stories we tell ourselves are even true. That is the meaningful part of inner work, and I’m not gonna lie, the harder part.

Can we be Above the Line and angry? Sure, we can. I’ve learned to say, “I don’t like how you’re talking to me,” but before I could be responsible with my feelings, I had to go inside and notice that I even was angry. Can we be happy and Below the Line? Of course, we can. I can be so excited that I don’t pay attention to anyone or anything else around me. A scary person is not someone who’s Below the Line; it’s someone who thinks they’re Above the Line but is actually below it.

If I wake up from a poor night’s sleep and begin moving through my day, slamming kitchen cabinets, and snapping at the family, my children might dare to ask me, “Mom, are you okay?” If I’m not very present, I might claim: “I’m fine!” Am I “fine?” No, I’m scary; everyone but me knows it, and my kids would be wise to leave me alone. If, however, I have a crappy night’s sleep and I am present enough to check in with myself, my kids don’t have to wonder if my bad mood has anything to do with them. It’s a game-changer. When we make contact with ourselves on the inside, it becomes safer for those around us to stay connected to us, which is often what we want.

A scary person is not someone who’s Below the Line; it’s someone who thinks they’re Above the Line but is actually below it.

In Choice Theory, developed by Dr. William Glasser, the “line of choice” is the name for the moment when we take responsibility for where we are. It’s powerful to know that this line exists. For a long time, I didn’t. I remember finally finding a therapist who helped me to connect Above/Below the Line with emotional responsibility; see my post, “Freedom: an Inside Job.” She asked me if I was willing to take 100% emotional responsibility for myself. I said I was (that’s my good cover), but I really didn’t understand what she meant. It was radical for me to acknowledge that people couldn’t make me happy any more than they could be held responsible for making me sad or angry.

I own me; that’s what taking emotional responsibility means—accepting that everything going on inside of me is because of me, EVERYTHING. We can’t change what we can’t see. That’s why I love the Enneagram so much; it shows us precisely where and why we give away our power. It’s a system of self-empowerment. I once introduced this concept in a jail class to a circle of women. I went around the circle and asked each of them, “Where are you?” Every person said they were Above the Line but one, a Type Four, called the “Individualist.”

“I’m Below the Line,” our Four said, slumped in her chair, legs extended, ankles and arms crossed.

“Honest,” I said, having no idea whether she was any more honest than anyone else who had answered before her. Still, I appreciated her willingness to go against the norm; the Type Fours’ forte, by the way. Fours can get emotionally intoxicated with their creative juices, unconsciously using fantasy to fuel their sense of not belonging. When our feelings run amok, we can become trapped by these unconscious patterns, not just Fours but in nine different ways. I thanked her and wondered if she would be open to taking a step toward herself.

“Are you willing to shift?” I asked her.

“No,” she said without flinching. “I’m writing a poem,” she told us, “and I like it down here.” Whoah. The only time in my life I wrote poetry was when I was depressed, and I liked it down there, too! Can we be both in the depth of our emotions, and Above the Line about it? That would be the eye of the needle for the Type Four. It takes conscious, hard work to be present with the contents of our lives.

Where are you? I invite you to go inside and check it out—see what it’s like to choose to be there and own it. If more of us were willing to make this turn inward, it would change a whole lot of things around here.