I just got around to reading this; thank you for writing it!
I hadn’t thought much about the role of memory in trauma and emotional stuff until pretty recently, possibly based on some kind of present-moment-experience-focused thing I inherited from circling culture. But my experiences using the bio-emotive framework were memory-based in a really important way, and reading this helped something click into place for me about integration being literally integration of memory networks, parts as memory networks, etc.
Using bio-emotive to examine the relationship between an emotional reaction I’m having now and a related memory has given the phrase “being present” a meaning it didn’t have for me before; often when we aren’t present it’s because we’re in a real sense in the past, possibly way back in the past depending on what memories are being activated.
Using bio-emotive to examine the relationship between an emotional reaction I’m having now and a related memory has given the phrase “being present” a meaning it didn’t have for me before; often when we aren’t present it’s because we’re in a real sense in the past, possibly way back in the past depending on what memories are being activated.
This reminded me of this bit (not sure if I agree with all of it, but it’s an interesting perspective):
The purpose of memory is not to maintain veridical records of the past so much as to guide future behaviour on the basis of past experience. The purpose of learning is, in a word, to shape predictions, predictive models of reality, predictive models of how we can meet our needs in the world.
That is why memory functions implicitly for the most part; it serves no useful purpose to be consciously aware of the past basis of your present actions, so long as the actions in question bring about the predicted (desired) outcomes. In fact, conscious reflection upon an automatised motor programme undermines the intended behaviour because it destabilises the underlying programme. It becomes necessary to bring past experience to consciousness only when predicted outcomes fail to materialise, when prediction error occurs. Friston (2010) calls this “surprise.” Prediction error renders the basis of present actions salient again – and deserving of attention (of consciousness) once more – precisely because the prediction that was generated by the past learning episode is now in need of revision. [...]
Biologically successful memories are reliable predictive algorithms – what Helmholtz (1866) called “unconscious inferences.” There is no need for them to be conscious. In fact, as soon as they become conscious they no longer deserve to be called memories, because at that point they become labile again. This seems to be what Freud had in mind when he famously declared that “consciousness arises instead of a memory-trace” (Freud 1920, p. 25). The two states – consciousness and memory – are mutually incompatible with each other. They cannot arise from the same neural assemblage at the same time. [...]
...the affective core of consciousness attributes meaning to experience, within a biological scale of values: “Is this new experience (this surprise), good or bad for my survival and reproductive success, and therefore, how do I respond to it?” The affective basis of consciousness explains why it (consciousness) is required to solve the biobehavioural problem of meeting our needs in unpredicted (or unpredictable) situations, and why it is superfluous in relation to successful predictive algorithms. [...]
Unconscious cognitive processes do not consist only in viable predictive algorithms. Although it is true that the ultimate aim of learning is the generation of perfect predictive models – a state of affairs in which there is no need for consciousness (Nirvana) – the complexity of life is such that this ideal is unattainable. Real life teems with uncertainty and surprise, and therefore with consciousness. That is to say, it teems with unsolved problems. As a result, we frequently have to automatise less-than-perfect predictive algorithms so that we can get on with the job of living, considering the limited capacity of consciousness (Bargh 2014). Many behavioural programmes therefore have to be automatised – rendered unconscious – before they adequately predict how to meet our needs in the world. This applies especially to predictions generated in childhood, when it is impossible for us to achieve the things we want – when there is so much about reality that we cannot master.
The consequently rampant necessity for premature automatisation is, I believe, the basis of what Freud called “repression.” I hope this makes clear why repressed memories are always threatening to return to consciousness. They do not square with reality. They give rise to constant “surprise,” for example, in the transference. I hope this also clarifies why the repressed part of the unconscious is the part of the mind that most urgently demands reconsolidation, and therefore most richly rewards psychotherapeutic attention.
-- Mark Solms. Reconsolidation: Turning consciousness into memory. Commentary on Lane et al. (2015).
I just got around to reading this; thank you for writing it!
I hadn’t thought much about the role of memory in trauma and emotional stuff until pretty recently, possibly based on some kind of present-moment-experience-focused thing I inherited from circling culture. But my experiences using the bio-emotive framework were memory-based in a really important way, and reading this helped something click into place for me about integration being literally integration of memory networks, parts as memory networks, etc.
Using bio-emotive to examine the relationship between an emotional reaction I’m having now and a related memory has given the phrase “being present” a meaning it didn’t have for me before; often when we aren’t present it’s because we’re in a real sense in the past, possibly way back in the past depending on what memories are being activated.
This reminded me of this bit (not sure if I agree with all of it, but it’s an interesting perspective):
-- Mark Solms. Reconsolidation: Turning consciousness into memory. Commentary on Lane et al. (2015).