While recently talking with a friend, he said, “Life is never easy.”
“Did you hear what you just said?” I asked.
“Oh, I did, didn’t I?” he said. “Thank you for catching me.”
In my Bushido Training, I usually process participants on their “soap operas.” These are the stories, bitches, moans and groans that we verbalize without thinking. Here are a few examples: “All the men I meet are jerks.” “I never have enough time.” “I have messed up astrology, because my Aries doesn’t line up with my lover’s Capricorn.” “My wife doesn’t give me enough sex.” “Money is always a problem.” “Greedy corporations have screwed up the economy.” “I have a procrastination problem.” “My hemorrhoids are acting up again.”
Those close to you know your soap operas. They’ve heard them so often they could repeat them word for word. And you could repeat theirs.
Today, you can even whine on a vanity license plate. Recently I saw a plate that said, “LOSER.” When I told that story at a recent Florida training, hypnotist Dan Cleary told me of a man with a tattoo on his arm reading, “Born to Loose.” He meant to say Lose, but he was such a loser, he misspelled it.
Every time you climb into your car, “Loser.” Every time you look in the mirror, “Born to Loose.” How could you be anything but a looser?
Here’s a short process from the seminar. I have the participants close their eyes, lightly alter consciousness, and then I ask, “What is your primary soap opera--your number one gripe or complaint? When does it get aired? Who is your primary audience? Your mate, your friends, co-workers, relatives, strangers? ……. Now summarize it in one sentence, ‘My primary soap opera is .....’”
If you were in a seminar, I might have you express your gripe out loud over the sound system to the rest of the participants. Or I sometimes direct a group mill, which is a matter of having everyone walk around, and when face to face with another person, say, “My soap opera is .....” Pretty soon they’ve told everyone else in the room their soap opera and no one can deny that they sound like a stuck CD.
After a few minutes of group milling, I like to play the old Linda Ronstadt rock song, “Poor, Poor Pitiful Me,” at very loud volume. When it’s over, I ask the participants to close their eyes and listen closely to my words: “It’s time to realize that every time you repeat your soap opera to others, you program your subconscious mind with more negativity. Every negative thought generates a cause-and-effect reaction, assuring that you will continue to experience this negativity in the future. How about deciding to end your soap opera here and now?”