What I learned on a year-long Neuro-Linguistic Practitioner’s course

Last year, I attended a course to understand just how heavily entwined our language is to our behavior and how deeply we affect the people we surround, just with our thoughts.

No, we didn’t sit around listening to David Whyte tapes, eating deliciously decadent organic snacks and lighting intention candles… That was only part of it. We did a lot of crying and trying of new methods that are massively uncomfortable. We journeyed down our own timelines and discovered the vastness of our futures, and that was only the half of it.

 

I learned to appreciate my point of view.

The deep appreciation that I garnered for my point of view was surprising. Surprising because the NLP course only partly helped me define what that point of view is. The fact that I now unconditionally celebrate a point of view that I don’t fully understand, is liberating. It’s liberating because I showed myself that I love the very essence of myself, even though I don’t 100% get what that essence is. It’s pure magic – it’s my high, and it’s mine all mine, but I know how to share it because it’s abundant.

 

I learned to think thoughts that enrich my experience of the now.

If it doesn’t serve me, then it has to go. I still regularly find myself being mentally harsh on myself but I am now equipped on how to gently steer the conversation in a more productive direction. I’m elegant in the dealings of inner chatter and I’m very aware of external sources that lead me to fall into a mindset that is unfriendly toward myself.

 

I learned to be ok with not knowing what it is that makes me happy.

And isn’t it fun to explore, realizing that there’s pleasure at every turn and tumble?

I am the fun person that I’ve always been chasing, I just didn’t know that my particular brand of fun was so acceptable to me. Now I know that wearing pink and red every week day, accompanied by glitter lipstick, doesn’t make me a crappy product of the nineties, it simply makes me feel closer to the me that I am. And if someone doesn’t like it, then that’s not really my business. And on that note…

 

I learned where I’ve been allowing my energy to fizzle out.

All the things that I haven’t been able to control: colleagues that are rude by continuously handing over work late, thereby creating a knock-on effect; people who swear at me in traffic, even the ones that I want to swear at in traffic; worrying about all of the homeless kitties in squatter camps and business parks; anxiety over things that are not my business, because the whole world is important to me, but it’s not all MY business… these were the vampires that drained me and left me without energy to do what it is that I felt compelled to do.

I am only one me, the difference that I can make, is only the difference that I can make, and THAT IS ENOUGH, that is my business.

This lesson was particularly fierce in my relationship with my husband and his weight-, debt-, lack of self-respect-‘issues’ (and I use the inverted commas because I now know that there is no failure, only feedback). All of those things I previously perceived him to be struggling with, are not actually my business. I learned that I can be supportive of his causes, by preserving my energy to be the best wife that I can possibly be.

 

I learned that I make up the technicolour of my experiences.

It’s not about the people I’m hanging around with, it’s not about the car that I drive nor is it about my salary. It’s about having a bright and authentic idea and allowing my system the freedom to explode that idea into the manifestation that it needs to take in my life. It’s not about dreaming up something and then pinning pressure on myself in order to achieve. It’s more about allowing myself to be there now, and see if it still suits me as it does manifest in the physical.

 

I learned that I am made up of many parts and that those parts are seemingly in disagreement with each other, most of the time.

Sneakily though, all of my parts actually want the same thing – the most dazzling outcome for Perrin. Each and every single fibre of my being wants me to be ecstatic, and I realise now that I don’t need to be anxious about this sense of dissonance because I get to the Emerald City, no matter what. I get there because I celebrate the rhinestones on my clothing, the numerous disco balls in my home, I play with glitter and dabble in the semi-precious stones in a Zulu meat dish on my coffee-table – all of these little ways remind my neurons that this life of mine is shiny, shiny, shiny.

 

Thank you Universe for my dazzling life and thank you Sue Corbett for being an elegant NLP Sensei.

 

 

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