By Dr. Lees
“Janet” is a massage therapist in her late 20s who has been involved in the profession for 8 years. Although business was steady, and a fair percentage was by referral from other satisfied clients, Janet stated there was “something lacking in her career” and wanted help with discovering the cause, and if possible, a cure.
As sometimes happens, when asked the classic question: “Well, if you did know what was missing, or, if you did know what needs to change, or, if you did know what you need, what would that be?” the answer was “I don’t know.”
The following works often enough when the client is stuck in this way that I then said, “Of course you don’t know yet, but if you did know, it would be….?”
“I just don’t know, and that’s the problem.”
I then said, “Then pretend you know.”
Janet was lost in thought for a while, then her eyes refocused, and she said, “Sorry,” (with a sigh) “that doesn’t work for me.” “Okay.” I responded, “Lie.” For many people, this is a shocker statement to hear from a therapist. Nonetheless, it sometimes provides the jolt they need, causing a shift in the client’s state, and allowing information to come tumbling forth.
But not this time.
“I won’t do that,” said Janet emphatically. “Why would I want to do that?”
“Well, it depends on your definition,” I said. “When it comes to therapy, a lie can be thought of as an untruth. And if a person really doesn’t believe something, then it can be thought of as a lie, or untrue. If you have had a thought, or an insight, into the past, about what it is you would like to change, but immediately dismissed it as untrue, then asking you to lie, to speak that untruth, can sometimes bring it back to your awareness. Then we can explore it further.”
Janet was again silent for a few minutes, then said in a small voice, “I’ve been here before.” I simply raised my eyebrows, and remained silent. “I saw a counselor last year. He was very nice. I enjoyed our talks very much. We got to this same place, me saying I know something was wrong, but we just couldn’t get past the not knowing. Does this make any sense?”
“Of course it does, and getting stuck in the not knowing is so common for people, that I took some special training in a technique that deals quite well with it,” I said. “Since you’ve already worded the problem so clearly, we won’t have to change a thing–so we’ll use the technique using your words exactly. Since you are a massage therapist, you already know about energy blocks, don’t you.” (Don’t you, was stated, not asked.) Janet nodded.
So I tapped the PR point, using the phrasing:
“Even though I don’t know what I need, or want, I completely and deeply accept myself.”
The slight frown caused me to pause and ask, “Does your inner mind want me to know something?”
“Yes, it’s like an inner voice saying, ‘You can’t accept yourself not knowing.'”
“That’s true,” I said. “But you can accept that you don’t know, can you not?”
After a bit more discussion, Janet volunteered, “I can realize I don’t know what’s wrong, and I can accept that I don’t know consciously, but I believe my subconscious does know.”
“I agree. How about:
‘Even though I don’t consciously know what’s wrong, I deeply and completely accept that my subconscious knows, and I can accept that.'”
“Okay,” said Janet, “I like that.”
We then tapped the PR point, using the above phrasing, then did a round of “This not knowing consciously.”
“Well, that was interesting,” Janet said, “I feel better, in some way. But I still don’t know the answer.”
“Of course not, not yet. Let’s do the next part.”
We then did the 9 Gamut, and followed with a round using the Reminder Phrase “This remaining not knowing.”
“Gee, I should use this with my clients. It’s so relaxing,” smiled Janet.
“Exactly. And when we relax, it’s so much easier to go inside and begin to notice the answer to the following question: How do you know that something is wrong?”
“Well”, said Janet, after another thoughtful pause, “everything is going along fine, and then I get this feeling.”
“And you would call that feeling…?”
“I think I’m just not good enough.”
“And where do you get that feeling?”
“In my chest. It tingles and feels like falling.”
“On a scale of 1 to 10, 10 being the most intense, what number is it now?”
“Eight or so.”
We tapped for:
“This feeling of not good enough.”
“Actually, it’s really that I’m not allowed to be good enough.”
We did a shortcut round for:
“Not allowed to be good enough,”
I asked, “How do you feel now?”
“I think it was heartburn,” she laughed.
The following week Janet returned, this time with a clear agenda. “I want to learn that technique,” she stated, completely congruent and bubbly, all at the same time.
“How’s the…er…heartburn?” I asked tentatively.
“Gone,” was the quick response. “And that’s why you’re going to teach me more.”
