Tag Archives: NLP

Be Fearless

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“It is better to negate the positive than it is to state the negative.” ~ Joe Truss

I had a fantastic conversation with Joe (my uncle) this morning. We discussed the importance of framing the things we don’t want in the positive. Our minds negate the ‘No’ in front of the thing we don’t like. We have no choice but to think about the negative action in order to know what not to do… and so we are fundamentally thinking about the wrong things when we are negating an inherently negative idea.

Instead of “No Fear!” -> Be Fearless!

To understand ‘No Fear’, we must understand Fear. To understand ‘Be fearless’, we must understand fearlessness, and maybe bravery or courageousness too.

So, negate the positive:

• ‘I hate this’ -> I am not in love with this.

• Don’t cheat -> Play fair.

• I am angry -> This doesn’t feel good, I am not at ease, or I am not happy with…

You will feel much happier if you do this little life hack, and so will those you hope to inspire, lead, and love.

Disposition over position

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Listen to this wonderful quote by comedian Jimmy Carr:

“Disposition is more important than position”

I’ve only ever known Jimmy Carr as a one-liner comedian. His podcast with Steven Bartlett on Dairy of a CEO has changed my mind. There are so many gems that he shares and it’s worth taking an hour and a half to listen.

It’s fitting that wisdom like this comes from an unexpected place. Even with Steven’s glowing introduction my bar of expectation was still low and I was very pleasantly surprised.

Yesterday morning I listened to the last 30 minutes while on the treadmill, and when Jimmy said this it really hit me.

“You are not the worst thing you’ve ever done.” ~ Jimmy Carr

How many people are measured on social media by the worst thing they have said or done? I’ve written around 2,000 blog posts since I started sharing online 18 years ago. I think I have a pretty decent record of being a pretty decent person, and yet I am keenly aware that I’m one careless sentence or one unpopular opinion away from potentially being ‘cancelled’… of being attacked as rude, biased, or some other derogatory adjective.

I’m not famous and it might not be that big of a deal to others, but it would matter to me. I remember years ago when I was attacked in a comment for being racist. It was very upsetting. Ironically it was on a post that I still consider one of my favourite things I’ve ever written, and to this day it’s the only non-spam comment I ever deleted. But before I did, I checked with people to see if I was off base. I really questioned myself and my perspective. I found out later who wrote that comment, even met him, and I believe changed his mind, but that’s a story for another time.

Going back to the podcast, I enjoyed listening to this enough that I’ll probably end up listening to Jimmy’s book. He really is a fascinating guy and I think I have more to learn from him. On that note, take some time to listen to the Diary of a CEO podcast. Steven interviews some fascinating people and he is an excellent interviewer.

And finally, back to the quote above about disposition, I am reminded of another quote, “It’s not what happens, it’s what you do that makes the difference.” I learned this in an NLP class over 30 years ago, but it actually dates back to Epictetus: “It’s not what happens to you, but how you react to it that matters.”

We all have an incredible ability to create our own reality… to take what happens to us and frame it in a way that is positive, that teaches us, that helps us grow.

“Disposition is more important than position. ”

In the shadows

I had a conversation yesterday with someone who carries very strong negative memories with them from something that happened many years ago. It wasn’t violent, and didn’t cause any trauma to their body, but it did to their mind. It was essentially an emotional bullying issue, one that especially hurt because it came from someone believed to be a friend. It hurt more because it wasn’t just a one-time thing, it was repeated.

As I listened, I was taken back by the hurt that was still carried. They say ‘time heals all wounds’, but I think sometimes ‘time wounds all heals’. Sometimes the passage of time does not separate us from emotional pain, rather time bathes us in it.

I think that’s why people end up self medicating. It’s easier to numb the pain than it is to face the pain that lurks in our memories, haunting us. The memory, the upset, the anger, or the pain, can seem as present and as relevant as things happening to us daily.

I’m not a psychologist, and I don’t play one on tv or the internet, but I asked this person a question.

I asked, when recalling the incidents, if they saw the experience through their own eyes or if they saw themselves in the memory as if they were watching a movie? The answer was ‘it’s like a movie’.

Aren’t our minds amazing things, that we can recall a memory and see ourselves in that memory! How does that work? We aren’t really reliving it if we can see it happening to us. It’s more like we are watching our own history. This gives us more power than we might think we have:

  • We don’t have to review our memories up close.
  • We don’t have to recall our memories in full colour or at full speed.
  • We can create new endings. Rewind and replay it.
  • We can literally put the memory into a television screen.
  • We can recall memories as still, black & white, blurry photos in old frames.

We can move memories into the shadows of our minds rather than have them fill our brains in full technicolor and splendour. We don’t have to get rid of them, (I’m not sure we can), but we can reduce their power over us. We can relegate the memories to less significance.

It’s similar to controlling anger. When something upsets us and makes us mad, how long do we hold on to that anger?

Let’s say you are driving to work one morning and someone cuts you off. I mean really cuts you off, you have to break hard and swerve into the curb lane to stop from hitting them and getting in an accident. You slam on the breaks and your horn simultaneously, but the other car drives off, seemingly oblivious to what they just put you through. How long do you hold on to that anger?

Is 5 minutes appropriate?

What about for the rest of your commute?

What about until everyone at work has heard your story?

How about until you’ve told your spouse when you got home.

How about the following week?

How about you recall the incident every time you pass that spot on the road on the way to work?

How long is it acceptable to hold on to that anger, to build up that moment in your mind? How long do you let that that angry moment in the past control your emotions in the present?

We have many memories that belong in the shadows of our mind, rather than in full colour and right in front of us.

If we can learn to not let the anger of a jerk that cut us off minutes, hours, days, or weeks ago control our present state or well being, couldn’t we do the same for something years in the past.

Maybe we can let time heal our wounds .

It may take practice, but if we’ve already changed the memory into a movie, seeing it from a perspective that we didn’t experience, then haven’t we already made changes that have removed us from the original experience? And if our minds can do that on their own, maybe we can choose to ‘see’ those memories in more distant and less angry ways. Maybe we can alter our past so that it interferes less with our present.

The memories that make us who we are

What are the defining moments in your life? When asked a question like this, we often think of big choices, like choosing a university, a life partner, a house, or a country to live in. But what about the little moments?

  • Parents who hugged you when you fell and cut your knee.
  • Being read a bed time story.
  • Family vacations.
  • Visits to or from grandparents.
  • Sports teams.
  • Sleepovers.
  • Trips abroad.
  • Boyfriends or girlfriends.
  • Parties, camping trips, hanging out in basements, dances, night clubs, and concerts.

If you are lucky, each of these examples will bring fond memories, and smiles. For others, one or more of these could trigger a memory of abuse or neglect or of missing out. For some, the memories are mixed, a blend of joyous nostalgia and bitter reflection.

These memories accumulate and our choice to focus on them help define who we are now, and what choices we make in the future. We might like to think that today is a new day filled with potential, but that potential is determined by our past, and the patterns we have set for ourselves. If these memories and patterns didn’t matter, we wouldn’t need so many self-help books, and therapists, and seminars that are available to help us break the cycles we get stuck in.

Wouldn’t it be great if we could alter our past to help us better align with the future we want? Could we look back at past memories and make the painful ones more distant? Could we find the hidden lessons we need now and see the value from the hardships we faced? Could we alter our histories by deciding to focus on what has made us stronger, wiser, and more resilient?

Do we own our memories or do they own us? If this is a choice we can make, what’s stopping us? Do we not have the power to make the memories that make us who we are?

Rhythm and Rapport

I felt it. I mean I really felt it. A rhythmic wave resonated throughout my body. Before this moment I had enjoyed music but I never had it consume me so completely. And I was surrounded by others who felt the same way.

It was the early summer of 1992, and I was 24 years old. My uncle had introduced me to an NLP teacher, paying for me to take his course, and I loved it. NLP or Neuro Linguistic Programming is about harnessing communication patterns, that we all use, in more effective and powerful ways. The course I was in was very interesting because it seemed as if half the people were there to learn to be more effective and the other half seemed to be there for therapy.

The 9-day course started on a Saturday and ran daily from 8am to 4pm through the week and into the second weekend. It was the Friday morning and we were told we were in for a treat. We were taken to a small room filled with drums, shakers, tambourines, cow bells and assorted traditional music makers. The lesson was on rapport and we were going to use music to demonstrate it.

I think there were about 18 of us in this small room and we were broken up into groups of 2, 3, and 4, depending on the number of similar instruments. I don’t remember if we ended up with 5 or 6 groups. Next, each group was given a different beat to play. For instance, the cow bell players got tap-tap, tap-tap, pause, tap-tap, while a few drummers got a beat of 1-2, 1-2-3, 1-2-3-4, 1-2. That second example would have been the most complicated of the options with most others being quite simple.

We got counted down and everyone started playing their own beat in their groupings. As someone that doesn’t have musical training, it was good to have other people playing the same beat as me so that I could follow along and not be too distracted by the other groups. That said it was a ruckus in this small room. To put it kindly, we were making noise, horrible and loud clattering, pounding, clanging, dinging noise. It was awful.

I understood that we were supposed to build rapport and the music was somehow supposed to come together but it didn’t. There was just noise. We switched instruments and tried again. Noise. We switched beats. Noise. We switched instruments again, and I was given cow bells. More noise.

We were tired, and we were overwhelmed with the echo of instruments clamouring out of synch, and then something interesting happened. A professional dance instructor that was taking the course had a big gourd shaker in his hand, he stepped forward into the middle of our circle and connected with an older man on drums. This older gentleman that the dancer connected with was a retired music teacher. They sped up the beat slightly and I could hear their individual beats come together as if they were one pattern. The dancer with the gourd shaker was dancing to their beat and my beat fell into synch with his feet.

That was the moment it happened for me, and it was obvious that it was happening for everyone else in the room… our noise became music. But this was so much more than music, it was a wave of sound that reverberated through my body. I watched the dancer and realized that his gourd and feet were the backbone of the beat. We were all following his lead. Then I looked at the retired musician’s drum and I realized that it was him driving the beat. Then I looked at my cow bells and realized it was me that was leading the beat. Then I really understood what was happening. We were in perfect unison, we were one.

None of us were in the lead. All of us were in the lead. This was full rapport. We were all connected, all one beat, all one musical experience. We built up the sound to a full crescendo, it was all-consuming, bordering on ecstasy. There was a countdown, 3-2-1, and we all stopped playing. The instant silence was a final exclamation on an overwhelmingly beautiful experience. For the first time in my life I had felt, truly and to my core felt, the sound of music.