Category: Sunday Letters

I’ve been listening lately to lectures by Dr. Jordan B. Peterson,  a clinical psychologist and professor emeritus at the University of Toronto, whose complex thoughts attract me with their depth and insight.  When you listen to him, you need to stop doing anything else and truly listen.  He speaks quickly and packs each sentence with layers of meaning.  But listening thoughtfully is worth the effort it requires of you.

One of the ideas he conveyed in the lectures I heard this week is that dragons, in mythology, represented (among other things) chaos.  And that slaying them makes you a hero.

Our own lives are a constant battle between chaos and order, and to be a hero in your own life means you slay the dragons that are bringing chaos to it so that you can have less confusion and greater clarity and competence in your life.

The first step in battling your dragons is the toughest.  You have to face the fact that they’re there.  You know that they are, and that they’re keeping you from being all that you can be.

Dr. Peterson says that the secret of overcoming your dragons is to take responsibility for them.   Taking responsibility builds your character and gives your life meaning.  It allows you to aim for living on a higher level than you are now.

Here’s how he says to do it.  You know there are things in your life that aren’t in order, where you’re not together, and they’re causing you some discomfort or suffering.   Every morning, or every night, ask yourself what those things are.

Ask as if you’re asking someone you really want the answer from, not telling yourself or preaching, but sincerely asking what needs to be put in order.  You can easily name five of them he says, “Bang-Bang-Bang.”  These are the little dragons of chaos.  “And they’re just little, but that’s good, because you’re not much of a hero warrior, so maybe little dragons are all you can put up with right now.”  So you name them and the begin sorting them out.

You ask yourself which one you’ll put some work into, even if the work is tedious or boring, or whatever it is that’s been allowing you to put it off.  And you do the work.  You sort those things out.

And what happens is it will bring more order into your life and when you wake up tomorrow, you’ll be just a little more focused and together.  Then you ask the same question, “What are my dragons?” and the next problems will be a little more complex and challenging, and you sort those out.  And you keep going with this, and you become stronger and more clear-headed for the next set of dragons you take on.

If you continue to do that, you’ll find that your room gets cleaned, your health improves, and your house gets put in order, and then maybe you can stick a finger out and begin looking at the dragons in your community.  By that time, you’ll have some real personal power and self-confidence, and some practice at identifying dragons and taking them on.

Now that, he says, is an interesting and exciting game.  “If you started doing the things that you know you should do and you did that diligently, what the hell would you be like in ten years?”  You might not reach the very pinnacle, but you’ll be a lot better off than you are now, a lot less self-pitying and resentful, with a lot less suffering in your life, a lot less cruel to yourself and other people.  “And that’s a pretty good start.”

So here’s to slaying dragons.  Which ones will you start with today?

Wishing you a sharp sword and hardy determination!

Warmly,
Susan

Some time ago, I received an invitation to participate in an unusual study. Its purpose was to determine the impact of a simple five-minute daily practice on participants’ fears and their experience of well-being.

Because one of the designers of the study was a former mentor and instructor of mine, Ann-Marie McKelvey, whom I like very much and trust deeply, and because I only had to invest five minutes a day for two weeks, I agreed. Who can’t clear five minutes in their day?

The practice is called “The Three Treasures Practice,” by the way, because it draws on the disciplines of loving-kindness meditation, EMDR (a therapy technique for reducing the effects of trauma), and the findings of positive psychology.

My immediate response to the practice, after did my first session, was, “Wow! That was easy – and do I feel great!” But it was only after the first full week of doing my daily sessions that I began to see the incredible power of the practice.

Before beginning it, we participants took a brief survey that had us identify one of our biggest fears and to rate it, and the negative feelings that went with it, on a scale of 1-10. I rated my fear at a 5. But my feelings of grief and sadness over it scored a 9. To my surprise, by the end of the first week, all my scores dropped dramatically. I was looking at the situation from an altogether different perspective.

By the end of the second week, my fear and the sadness and grief were hardly at play at all in my life. I felt free from my concerns and saw clearly that if the situation I had feared did materialize, I would be able to deal with it , minute by minute, as it unfolded. I thought about the old adage that most of what we worry about never happens. And even when it does, it rarely takes any of the forms we imagined. All my apprehensions had done nothing but waste time I could have spent enjoying life in the present.

I ‘knew’ all of that about worry before I began the practice. But I worried anyway, and was deeply attached to my concerns. What you know in theory is far from the things you learn from experience. The Practice simply melted my worries away. Life became lovelier and more vibrant again. Day by day, I was effortlessly moving into a broader, easier world.

It’s been a long time now since I first learned The Three Treasures Practice, and my understanding of its beauty and power has only deepened in that time.

My own experience with the practice has been so profound that I wanted to share it with you. And I’m delighted to say that the developers of the practice and of the study have given all the participants full permission to share it.

So consider this a happy invitation to try it yourself. Make a commitment to give it a full two-week try. Start by writing down what you biggest fear is and rate its intensity from 1-10, where 10 is complete, abject fear, and 0 is no worry. Then think about the feelings that accompany your fear. Does it make you feel any of these emotions: Loss? Anxiety? Grief? Sadness? Anger? Loneliness? Which ones? Rate the intensity of those, too, so you can see the changes in your life at the end of the first week and at the end of the second.

Remember that the practice is designed not only to ease your fears, but to heighten your sense of well-being as well .

Before I share the instructions for the practice itself, here’s a worthwhile little exercise to do first, a kind of warm-up session. For me, it was quite interesting.

All you have to do is jot down the following feelings and rate each of them from 1-10 as you’re feeling them right now: Joy, Peace, Openness, Love, Connection, Kindness, Trust, and Happiness.

You don’t have to do that part. But if you do, it will give you a way to evaluate how the practice is working for you.

Now here are the actual instructions for the practice, as given to those of us who engaged in the study:

Instructions for The Three Treasures Practice

Sit comfortably in a quiet environment. Take deep inhales and deep exhales as you settle.

Cross your arms over your chest and place your hands on alternate shoulders. [Right hand on left shoulder; left hand on right shoulder.]

In a determined way, gently and slowly tap each shoulder one at a time. Tap so that it is loud enough to hear. This is called the EMDR Butterfly Hug.

Keep doing the Butterfly Hug as you say the following phrases to yourself in rhythm with your taps, silently or out loud, Repeat them until your five minutes are up.

• May I now be filled with loving kindness
• May I now be safe and protected
• May I now be resilient in mind and body
• May I now live with ease and joy

The Loving-Kindness Meditation is an ancient tradition that goes back thousands of years. Although the phrases may differ from culture to culture, the basic principle is to alleviate suffering. Please use the positive Loving-Kindness phrases above for the next 14 days along with the Butterfly Hug for five consecutive minutes each day.

If you have trouble remembering the words, please print them on a card to look at during you initial repetitions until you know them by heart.

Should you find yourself becoming drowsy, please stand up to do the practice until the five minutes have transpired.

That’s it!

I would love to know what your experience with this easy and, in my view, powerful exercise is. Think about taking five minutes a day to try it for two weeks and if you do, let me know what your experience with it is. What have you got to lose?

Wishing you a week of increasing contentment and peace.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay}

“It’s just going to be that kind of day,” my friend said as he got in my car. “Everything’s gone wrong.” He started on a litany of all the bothersome things that had happened since he got out of bed.

“Well,” I said, “I’m glad you got all that out of the way! Used up all your bad luck first thing. Now you can let it go and have a fine rest-of-the-day.” And he did. But if I hadn’t steered him to look at the possibility of a good day ahead, he might have gone on and on about his little clashes and misadventures.

Painful events produce mental movies of what happened, replays of the situation. They’re daydreams our minds create to help us realize that it was true, that it really happened and that it hurt. That’s a pretty common response to pain. It’s the first step toward accepting things, to getting to the point where we can say, however reluctantly, “It is what it is.”

The next step is figure out what you need to do next. What are some of your options? What’s most urgent? What direction do you want to go? You might still feel the raw pain, but it, too, is what it is—an injury of some kind, and injuries take time to heal. You let it sit there, acknowledging it, but accepting it as a part of your current experience. In the meantime, take a survey of your resources and start moving in the direction that your better self most wants to go, the one that makes the most sense.

But first, you’re in that place where you’re remembering what happened, trying to get a grasp on it and somehow make it different. There’s a trap here, though. If you play the movie over and over and over, you can get stuck in it. You can get so stuck that it becomes the focus of your reality. That’s when our daydreams become living nightmares.

Remember the phrase, “What you focus on expands?” It applies full force here. Your mind will always search for information to bring you when it knows you’re interested in something. If you’re looking at nothing but your mental movie about the hurtful thing that happened, your mind will bring you more and more ways that you were hurt like this in the past or might be hurt in similar ways in the future. That generates fear, anxiety, and avoidance strategies–none of which are helpful. In fact, your fear makes your brain think that looking out for danger is now a priority matter. It will point out all the signals it can find that you might be risking another blow. And there you are, stuck in the nightmare.

Now here’s the good news. You are the one who’s in charge of what’s playing in the theater of your mind. You’re running the projector that beams the movie onto the screen of your mind. If you can see that this movie has played over and over, you can look for a different movie to play. That lets you break the nightmare’s spell.

You might not be able to switch movies instantly. The nightmare one has dug itself into the screen of your attention and its drama has you hooked. But you can interrupt it as often as want by asking yourself a simple question like “What’s good about her/him/this mess?” or “What’s good about this present moment?” Questions like that take your brain by surprise. “A new game!” it says, happy to have a new assignment. And it will start looking for answers to your question. Robert Maurer, Ph.D,,says in his book One Small Step Can Change Your Life: The Kaizen Way, that you can start by asking your little question at leaset once a day, and keep it up every day for a couple weeks. Link asking it to brushing your teeth or drinking your morning coffee, or when you go to bed. You could also jot down the answers you get if you’re so inclined.

Gradually, looking for the good will become a habit, quieting and eventually replacing your nightmare. Your world will expand and brighten, your moods will shift to the enjoyable end of the scale. And it starts by asking a simple question: “What’s good here?”

Remember, what you focus on expands. Focus on asking yourself one little question at least once a day about what’s good, and see how the goodness grows.

Wishing you a week of surprising smiles.

Warmly,
Susan

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

So here we are, at Step Three of the “Recipe for Happiness.” This one tells us that once we have learned Step One, letting go of what’s gone, and Step Two, that says to be grateful for what’s left, we’re ready for the final step. And I confess that I found this one a real challenge. It’s message is to “Look forward to what is to come.”

We who inhabit this planet seem to be living in an increasingly precarious and uncertain time. As I’ve mentioned before, I kind of like the phrase “The Great Shaking,” to describe what’s going on. A lot of us feel shaken by unexpected happenings in our lives these days, on both personal and global levels. It can be hard to maintain hope for the future when you’re in the midst of insidious and confusing events.

But hey, if you’re a Joy Warrior, you have to give optimism at least a chance. So I wrestled a bit with the thought of looking forward to what’s to come, and I cobbled together this little positivity approach:

The Invisible Positivity Globe

Leave open a space for the possibility of happy endings. Things could work out very well–better than you ever imagined.

Go ahead; try this: Fantasize about clearing out a little corner of your mind, maybe over there on a shelf. Now take an invisible little energy globe into your hand and ask it to hold the possibility that a superb outcome will emerge. Just the possibility. Then tuck that little globe on the shelf. (A friend of mine keeps all her ideas-to-explore on such a shelf. Poking around in there can be a fascinating experience. You learn so much, she tells me. And it’s so interesting and insightful! And fun!) Anyway, now you’ve created a space with your little globe that you can turn to at any time to see what positive possibilities it’s projecting.

Some friends and I used to call looking for possibilities “fishing in the cosmic soup.” All kinds of surprising ideas are there. And that little invisible globe over there on your shelf? It’s the holder of the energy-nuggets in the soup that are made of peaceful and positive possibilities. They swirl around inside your little globe as you gaze at it, projecting them onto its invisible walls, and they become daydreams for you, any time you want to see them.

Listen, every path has its rocky stretches. It’s part of the package deal you were given when you arrived here. The ugly stretches come. But we keep going, even when we feel lost and maybe even afraid. Then, sooner or later, here comes another unexpected turn. It opens to a world of radical clarity and calm, offering you a smooth and winding path that stretches as far as the eye can see. Imagine that! Play with imagining what your ideal world would look like.

For a long time I was amazed that the world worked at all, so great was its chaos. Little did I know that even greater causes for amazement were quickly sliding down the pike. But here they are. And the more I see of what’s going on here, on this interesting planet of ours, the more amazed I am indeed, given all this shaking, that the world works at all. Life can be bewildering. Scary even. You have to watch out for what some call “fear porn.” That’s a craze going on that’s helllbent on making us all very afraid. Some say it’s part of a plan. Who knows! Everything seems a bit surreal these days. Just learn to check in with your thoughts now and then. And remember what I recently shared with you: You can’t stop thoughts from knocking at your door, but you don’t have to entertain them.

You can always return to the present and look around to see what’s happening here, now. It’s a good place to visit as you go about your travels through this movie of your life. And when things seem rocky and your hope is sliding away, take a few minutes to visit your positivity globe. Let it show you some of the countless ways that things could work out for the good, for us all. Because, you know, they can.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by J Lang from Pixabay}

Last week we looked at Step One of the “Recipe for Happiness – Letting Go of What’s Gone.” Now let’s look at Step Two: “Be grateful for what remains.”

I could go on and on about the uplift that gratitude brings. It’s on my short list of favorite emotions. And, farther down, I will share a way you can tap into it when you need an inner vacation. But a lot of us are struggling to cope with serious losses these days, and I want to suggest that gratitude can provide a healing balm for the deepest pain.

In times of profound loss, we can slide into pools of grief so deep that life seems completely devoid of meaning. Someone in the pits of grief might say, “What’s the point of going on? I am nothing without all that’s gone.” Everything has changed, and the unknown future can look bleak, without a glint of joy. I know that I felt that way for a while when a cherished loved one died. But, like most of us who encounter that soul-deep, empty feeling, I trudged on.

In the thick of terrible fighting, back in World War II, Winston Churchill told his people, “When you’re going through hell, keep going.” It’s good counsel to remember. Because, you know, life changes.

And time truly heals. When my son died, a wise friend told me that the pain never goes away, but in time, it finds a little corner of your heart in which to dwell. Decades have passed since then, and now and then I visit that little corner of my heart. I can only call what’s happened in that corner “beautiful.” The pain has condensed into a little dark cloud, and it floats across a vast sea of golden memories. I can see that beloved face again, glowing and wonderful, and hear that laugh, and I see that this shimmering ocean–which contains all that he was to me–is a priceless treasure.

Time can do that. Give yourself time. Keep going. And maybe somewhere along your path, you’ll hear Tara Brach’s guidance to say to yourself, “This is suffering. Everybody suffers. May I be kind.” Be kind to yourself as best you can. And be kind to others. They’re part of the “everybody” who knows suffering.

So that’s the first rule: Keep going. And as you go, practice letting go of all that is in the past. Be assured, the memory will remain and after a while, you’ll gain perspective on it. What you want to let go is your clinging to it. “You can’t stop thoughts from entering your mind,” somebody once told me, “but you don’t have to entertain them.” You have better things to do. You could, for instance, look around, see what’s left, and be thankful for it.

One of the ways you can do that is to tune in to your senses, one by one. What are you seeing? What do you hear? What textures and pressures do you feel against you skin–from head to toe? What can you smell? Taste? Consider what an amazing thing each sense is, bringing you all this information about your surroundings, telling you that you’re still alive, and here, in this unfathomable world. Then tap into your sense of gratitude and send a thought of thanks to your senses, to your body, to the life force within it. Maybe you’ll become aware of the marvel that air is moving in and out of you, all of its own accord. It’s carrying waves of color and fragrance and sound, and light is traveling through it, and it enters you and feeds you. You are what remains when you let all that has passed be past. And everything you truly need is inside you.

Once you embrace that, you’re ready for Step Three in the “Recipe for Happiness,” the one that challenges you to look forward to what’s ahead. We’ll wrap up this little series with that one next week.

In the meantime, may your heart rest in gratitude, for all that you are, all that you contain, and for the countless wonders that surround you.

Warmly,
Susan

^{Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay}

I really don’t know what’s going on here, on this planet, as much as I collect other’s observations and reports. But everybody feels it: There’s a whole lot of shakin’ goin’ on!

Some folks tell me it’s the great sorting of the wheat from the chaff, a taking-out-the-garbage sort of action. And when it’s done, we’ll all be living in a cleaner, clearer, more peaceful world. Every story I’ve heard on this theme tells it in a different way, with different names for the heroes and common folk, their devils and gods. But the moral seems the same in all of them. “Keep going. There’s a wonderfully happy ending.” I consider that a message of hope.

In the meantime, here we are in the shaking, trying to live our lives with as much sanity we can muster. Some of us are better at it than others. All of us have our good times and bad. It’s okay. It’s not you, it’s the shaking. Personally, when I get out of sorts—as we all do in these high-tension days—I blame it on the planets. It’s as good an excuse as any, and it puts the blame way out there in distant space, instead of on me alone.

I take time to see if I can backtrack and find what triggered my less-than-cheery mood. Where did it start? What does it feel like? Where do I feel it in my body? Does it have a shape, a weight, a motion, a color? Does it have a message for me?

I have one recurring event-reaction that I have wrestled with for years. It’s like having the same plot play out in your life with changing characters and scenery as you go along. But it’s always the same basic story. And it’s an annoying one.

The only way to put a close to it is to figure out where you came upon the first fork in the road and to recognize it when you come to it again. Because you will come to it again. Over and over, until you see that first fork, and take the opportunity to choose a different direction. Instead of reacting to the situation the way you have up until now, you choose to say yes instead of no, or no instead of yes. (And by the way, you can do that gently and with grace.) I’m still working on finding that first fork. But on the other hand, I’m learning a lot of good stuff in my search.

Event-reactions are where that old axiom came from, “Insanity is doing the same thing over and expecting a different result.” And in this crazy-making world of ours, I suspect we all lapse into a less than healthy state of mind from time to time. Fortunately, we’re capable of reset. We’re remarkable beings, you know. So doggoned resilient. We keep getting up, dusting ourselves off, and going on. I admire that about us. We keep getting up.

So that’s my little story for today. If you find yourself out of sorts, blame it on the planets. And meanwhile, do your best to keep your balance, and be kind.

Warmly,
Susan

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay

One summer, I happened to be working from my home. From the second floor window where my office was located I could gaze out at my field, across the road from my house.

One day when I glanced up from my work, I was surprised to see an old station wagon parked on the grassy right of way that borders my field. An old fellah in a straw hat was standing about ten feet into my field, filling quart baskets with black raspberries that he was picking. The berries were abundant that year and just at their peak. I watched him fill basket after basket and tuck them in this car.

I was rather taken aback that some stranger would feel free to drive onto my property and help himself to my berry crop. How did he know the berries were there? Was he planning to sell them? Just across the state line a big home-grown produce stand sat at the highway’s edge. I was debating with myself whether to hike down to the field to confront him when he finished his picking and drove off, heading for Ohio.

I told myself no harm was done. Plenty of berries remained for the birds and I probably wasn’t going to pick them myself since another patch on the south hill was closer to my house.

But then, the next day, there he was again! And this time he had a woman with him and a little dog, and they seemed to be making a day of it, picking basket after basket of my berries. “What nerve!” I thought to myself. Not only were they trespassing, they maybe were stealing from me for their own profit. I definitely had to go see what they had to say for themselves. I was getting a bit miffed. And I don’t like to be upset.

As I pulled on my jeans and boots for my hike into the field, I happened to ask how else I could look at the situation. That’s when the miracle happened. I suddenly realized that had I known this couple, had they been my friends, I would be more than happy to have them take all the berries they wanted. The obvious solution then was to make friends with them. And I approached them with that intention, smiling and waving as I walked toward them.

It turned out they were a sweet old pair. And when they found out they weren’t in the field that belonged to their Ohio neighbor, who happened to own the field behind mine, they were absolutely mortified. They apologized over and over again while I assured them there was no need. It was a completely understandable mistake. The old man insisted I take the last two quarts of picked berries that he held in his hands, and I thanked him for the gift and told him they were welcome to take all they wanted. But so great was their embarrassment that they soon left, never to return again.

You might think that was the end of the story, my little parable about how a change of perspective can change your whole world. But wait! There’s more . . .

It was the middle of December and I had just finished hanging the last of my Christmas decorations when there was a knock on my door. It surprised me. I wasn’t expecting any guests.

When I opened the door, there was the raspberry thief, grinning, with gifts in his hands. His wife had baked a pie for me with berries from my field. The pie was spectacular, looking as if it had just sprung to life from the cover of a magazine. And then he set a bottle of homemade black raspberry wine on my kitchen counter, wishing me a Merry Christmas and thanking me for my kindness to him and his wife. And both the pie and the wine, I must say, were the finest I ever tasted.

I never saw the couple again after that. But I savor the memory, a tale of kindness returned, every Christmas when I hang my decorations and each summer when the black raspberries are ripe for picking.

Love each other, hey?

Warmly,
Susan

Image by Andrzej Rembowski from Pixabay

I sat on the porch enjoying the play of the hundred shades of green, feeling the warmth of the air, . . June. How beautifully June.

Due to a minor incident earlier in the day, I found myself thinking about the passive-aggressive spectrum I travel from time to time. I noticed that it’s a long gentle slope from the peak of my passivity to the red line where my aggression begins. It takes a lot to rile me. How sharply my aggression builds once that red line is crossed varies from situation to situation. I stay alert to the energies at play and strive to respond appropriately with as much wisdom and grace as I can muster.

Aggression is a mighty force. Bridled, it serves as a tool. Strive to be its master, so that it may serve you well, acting in accord with your truest aims and sense of direction.

It’s not easy, though, I must warn you, to develop even a modicum of skill in handling our potentially self-destructive tendencies, It’s one of those “not for sissies” games. Nevertheless, if skill is what you truly want, rest assured that life will present you with endless opportunities to practice, at whatever level you need,

When it comes to aggression–which can be expressed as everything from mild sarcasm to monstrous revenge or rage–It’s a tough course. It’s not in the nature of aggression to succumb to restraint. You have to tame it, using whatever tricks of the trade you’ve acquired over the years. Sometimes you have to invent or discover new ones. For me, it’s been a highly instructive and rather bumpy road.

But it’s been well-worth the effort. Rewards always more than compensate for the losses along the way. All exercises in self-mastery are like that, in my experience. Not only do you gain skill in controlling another aspect of self-expression, but you get added benefits along the way. Sometimes it takes a bit of living to see that, but it’s true.

One of the prizes I got for working to shape and direct aggression, for instance, is a far greater amount of patience than I had before. And patience is a beautiful reward. It gives you a place to rest for a while, to breathe easily and take in a wider view. It lets you return to your center again, to a welcoming acceptance of what is.

You can design your own self-mastery practice, by the way. All you have to do is notice some part of yourself that causes you more pain than pleasure and decide to work with it. That means paying attention to it so you can learn what triggers it, then noticing when that negative part of you is being triggered, then noticing that you can actually chose not to respond in your usual way.

One trick that helps is to play”The If-Then Game” with yourself. Before the next triggering event comes along, ask yourself, “What if such and such happens? What could I do instead of my habitual response?” Then imagine some alternatives. Do a little brain-storming, letting yourself come up with all the ideas your mind can create, even silly or outrageous ones. Dismiss no alternative; your conscience will sort out possibilities that are within the bounds of your principles. Your goal is just open the door to a whole, big bunch of possible alternatives. So let your imagination soar. Play out the alternatives you come up with in your mind.

Next week, I think I’ll retell the story of the black raspberry thief. It’s a great example of the way unexpected rewards show up when you put a good alternative into action.

Meanwhile, I’ll wish you a week where you suddenly notice places where you’re sliding into the mud of habitual negativity. “Oh, look! I was going there!” See what simply noticing does.

Smiling at you. Big-time.

Warmly,
Susan

_{Image by Josch13 from Pixabay}

Back in the middle of the last century, writings about the amazing powers of the subconscious mind were all the rage. It was, as I understood it, this vast, shapeless, inner world that held more or less clear impressions of everything you ever experienced or learned. Not only that, but it somehow filed everything in organized, wholly cross-referenced files. And that gave it the power to find–or lead you to find–the answers to any questions or puzzles you presented to it. That’s what made it amazing.

But the part of the subconscious that holds all your personal experiences was only one layer of it. There was another, deeper layer below it that held the experiences of everybody everywhere who ever lived, back through eons of time. At their edges, the personal subconscious and the collective subconscious intermingled, and you could, with proper discipline, guidance and effort, travel into the depths of the collective to access even more data. Some people were able to dive even deeper than the collective. But that’s another story, for another time.

What got me to thinking about this was a simple question a friend asked me this morning. “Have you started on your Sunday Letter yet?” I told him I hadn’t, but that I could tell that the Boys in the Back Room were kicking around an idea. I depend on them. And they never disappoint, although I sometimes have to knock pretty loudly on their door before they slip their notions to me.

The Boys in the Back Room is a compartment I built in my personal subconscious. Up until I realized I could do that, I thought of the subconscious mind as a vast, maybe bottomless, ever-swirling bowl of soup. “The Cosmic Soup,” I called it. When you wanted to know something, you’d bait a line with your question, drop it into the soup and wait until something tugged on your line. That process was called “Fishing in the Cosmic Soup.”

Then one day I was walking by local trout stream and it dawned on me that different bodies of water held different kinds of fish. Maybe the Cosmic Soup was the same way. So I swam around in it for a while and found this sun-dappled pool that was bubbling with ideas. It was surrounded by some kind of transparent energy field, and I knocked on its outer edges and a laughing young fellow appeared, opening a kind of door. Behind him was a big, bright room filled with school desks and a riotous, laughing crew of boys and girls, maybe in their late teens, early 20’s, turning somersaults and throwing balls of crumpled paper at each other.

The guy at the door told me they were my Creatives. They fabricated my ideas and dreams. I could call them, he said, the Boys in the Back Room—“boys,” in this case, being a word like “guys” that referred in a casual, friendly kind of way to both genders. They were right next door to the Research Clan, he said, who aided them immensely in their creations. (The Research Clan, by the way, is the group that helps you figure out where you left your car keys, among other things. They travel freely through the huge data bases of the entire subconscious in search of answers and report to many other inner pools besides that of the Boys in the Back Room. But that, too, is another story.)

It was this whole experience that showed me why Positive Affirmative Questions work. And that’s really what the Boys suggested that I write about today. Here it is in a nutshell, since I’ve rambled for quite a while already: Instead of using affirmations to reprogram a behavior or install a different one, you turn the affirmation into a question. For instance, instead of saying, “I am eating healthy, nutritious foods now,” you ask yourself, “Why am I so drawn to eating healthy, nutritious foods now?” Then the Researches go to collect data and collaborate with the Boys in the Back Room who fabricate ways for you to discover that you are, amazingly, drawn to nutritious foods.

While they’re searching, the negative part of you that knows you’re still stuffing Oreos in there might say something nasty to you, like “You’re not eating good stuff, fool.” Just tell it that it’s not up to speed on things and trust that the Boys will be back any second now with reams of ways to nudge you into hankering for a crisp, juicy apple or a maybe a piece of salmon, fresh off the grill.

Instead of saying “I no longer spend money impulsively,” you ask yourself, “Why am I managing my money so wisely now?” Then see what happens the next time you’re out shopping or leafing through an inviting catalog that came in the mail.

That’s the gist of it. “Why am I feeling so motivated today?” Why am I getting so many good ideas about this thing I want to do?” “Why am I feeling so peaceful today?” Play with it.

Wishing you a week of happy discoveries.

Warmly,
Susan

Image by Gerd Altmann from Pixabay.com