You are getting very sleepy

Sometimes life can catch you off guard. The other day, mine did.

 “You have a free session with a hypnotherapist.”

“Er, excuse me?”

It’s my mother. She’s calling to tell me about the hypnotherapist she’s been seeing to help her with her weight loss.

“She’s amazing,” she tells me, “but she needs some help with her writing, so I told her you’d help her in exchange for some free sessions.”

“But mom…” I whine in childlike tones. She’s always offering me up to do something: to drop something off here – or pick someone up there.  It gets on my nerves and I immediately revert back to my seven-year-old self.

"I don't even know if I believe in that stuff."

“Just go. It’s something you need to experience at least once.”

(Sigh..)

•••

“Hi, welcome!” says Esme, as I come through the door. Esme is the hypnotherapist, a kind looking woman with big, curly hair. Her office is an apartment that’s stacked wall-to-wall with boxes, knick-knacks, and other items that look like they were plucked from the 70’s.  It’s exactly how I’d picture the office of a hypnotherapist.

“Have a seat in the waiting room,” she points to a brown and orange floral print couch. “I’m just finishing up with another client.”

I sit down and look around nervously. Esme seems sweet, but I can’t help but feel anxious.  What if it doesn’t work? What if I don’t know what to say? I envision myself clucking like a chicken and doing all sorts of other crazy things in order to protect poor Esme’s feelings.

A clock ticks monotonously, which only intensifies my nervousness. What am I doing here? I should probably just leave while I still can. I notice a very large owl statue leering down at me from the wall. It warns me with its wide eyes. I decide to stay.

“Alright, you can come on in.”

•••

I have a seat in Esme’s office. It’s a little less cluttered than the waiting room. I look around. No owls. That’s good.

She asks me what I’d like to work on.

“I don’t really know,” I tell her. “I suppose I’d like to be more confident.”

Esme asks me several questions and decides that I have self-worth issues. Feeling like a real mental case now, I close my eyes and we begin.

"I'd like for you to go inside yourself and find the part of you that holds you back. I'd like you to ask it if it would like to chat."

I stifle a smile.  What if my low self-worth doesn’t want to chat?

But before I can burst out laughing, I see her. It’s a little girl. It’s me. 

“Is it willing to talk?” asks Esme.

“I think so,” I say.

Esme begins talking in soothing tones and before I know it, tears are streaming down my cheeks.  I’m surprised by this, since I’m not really a “cryer." 

“What is it that it wants when it holds you back?”

I think for a moment.  What do you want, Low Self-Worth?

“It wants safety,” I tell her.

“Great. Safety is important.” She asks this part of me to know that I’m always safe.

“Is there anything that is more important to it than safety?”

I think for a moment.

“Recognition,” I tell her, hoping that I’m doing this right.

“Great. Recognition is very important.” She asks this part of me to know that I’m recognized.

“Is there anything that’s more important to it than recognition?”

I pause.

“Love,” I say at last.

“Ah. Love. Love is the most important thing there is.”  She asks this part of me to know that it is always loved.

Esme figures that I was hurt by some people as a child and it’s been holding me back. She asks this part of me to grow up and join the older me, and oddly enough, I feel that it does.

•••

When I come home I feel transformed. I find Practical Joe and tell him all about it.

“I feel totally different – and apparently, all I had to do was grow up!”

He smiles as if it's not a surprise. “Does this mean you’re going to stop picking fights with me and blogging about them?”

I pause for effect and watch a glimmer of hope flicker in his eyes.

“Heeeeeell no!”

What kind of fun would that be?

Namaste,