Mosquitos with megaphones: acceptance vs. experiential avoidance

This is a metaphor I'm working on to help explain the utility of acceptance.  I'd really love to get feedback if folks have any thoughts.  --Melissa Wright

Therapist: Sometimes it seems almost impossible to sit with our feelings. I’d like you to imagine something that might help you understand what I mean about “making room” for your experiences, or accepting them. Would that be alright?

Now imagine you are walking home your usual way, just walking through your neighborhood. Suddenly, you hear something, and it sounds like it’s right behind you. It sounds big, it sounds scary, it actually sounds like a giant flying beast… you think you can hear its massive wings flapping and its jaws crunching and grinding. Terrifying sounds. My guess is you might take off running, does that sound about right?

Client: Well yeah.
Therapist: Me too. Are you a runner?
Client: Oh, sometimes. I’ve been a runner in the past.

Therapist: So, tell me… what happens once you’ve been running for a mile or so?

Client: Well I should be fine after a mile.
Therapist: Okay, so what about after five miles?
Client: I’d definitely be getting tired by then.
Therapist: I certainly would too. And what do you normally do while you’re running?
Client: What do I do?
Therapist: Yeah, I mean, do you make business calls, or catch up with the people you love?
Client: While I’m running?
Therapist: Yeah, while you’re running.
Client: Well, no, running is pretty much the only thing I do while I’m running. I mean I get all sweaty and out of breath. 

Therapist: I’d certainly be sweaty and tired. But the thing is, the beast is still following you, so you keep running. You run and run and run and run and you are sweaty and you are tired, but the beast is still there, you can hear it, so you keep running.

Finally, at some point, you trip over a rock. And when you look up, you see it. And this beast that’s been following you? … Now, bear with me, this is a funny image, but this beast - well… It’s a gang of mosquitos. There’s about 8 of them, and they are flying around with these little megaphones that make them sound MUCH bigger than they really are. And those big wings that you thought you could hear flapping? They are actually tiny mosquito wings… and those jaws that were grinding? That’s actually the noise of the tiny little mosquito mouths…
But you’ve stopped running, so now they do bite you. And you sure do get itchy. And that’s actually pretty unpleasant… but do you think that at this point, as you’re looking up at the mosquitos, you would choose to get up and start running again?

Client: I guess not, if they are just mosquitos…but what do you mean?
Therapist: Well, sometimes running does make sense, right? If its really a monster you need to avoid, then running makes sense.   But the thing is, feelings are a lot more like a pack of mosquitos chasing you around than an actual monster. No one has ever been injured or killed by anxiety and sadness. Feelings ARE itchy: they often aren’t fun, they can be downright awful to experience. But if we run from them, we end up using all our energy getting sweaty and out of breath, while we could have been making business calls, catching up with old friends…

Client: Hmmm

Therapist: The important thing to remember is that even when feelings and thoughts look and sound like a huge crazy monster, the truth is, they can’t actually hurt you.
And what I’m hoping is that, above all, we can help you notice when you are running. That way you can make a decision -- you can ask yourself, “is running actually helping me get what I want? Or, am I all sweaty and tired and unavailable to my friends and family because I’m so busy running away from something that isn’t actually dangerous to me?” 

Running takes a lot of energy, and you might find that you’d rather get a few mosquito bites, feel the itchy feelings, and be able to stay in one place and do the things that you want to do. But it takes practice to know that you’re running, practice to learn how to keep walking instead, and I’m hoping we can practice some of that here together.