All rights reserved; this copy is given to you.
For information on copies please contact:
Growing Together Counseling and Education
801 224 3001 http://www.GrowingTogetherCounseling.com
Jaybirds
Once in a little forest area,
just outside my cabin window,
I was watching the little animals and birds play.
I had some of those hummingbird feeders
that the hummingbirds dip their long needle like beaks into and take little cool sips of sweet honey flavored water.
I liked to color mine red or orange so I could see how much was left in them.
The humming birds seemed to stand still in the air while they sipped at the red liquid.Their tiny wings moved more quickly than could be seen.
The buzzing sound I could hear from that part let me know that the wings were moving, holding the bird up in the air.
It was so pleasant to watch the humming birds at their drinkers, sipping contently then flying off, only to return again and again to satisfy their thirst for what they needed.
It seemed like they couldn't drink deeply of the liquid and they had to return many times, and continue to repeat the process in order to satisfy that need.
They take turns, never having to wait in line, or bump another about, only waiting somewhere, away from the drinker, until their turn, then quietly taking a turn from the cool red liquid.
I had some pine cones that I had dipped in peanut butter and covered with bird seed and other grains that I hung from the pine tree,and around them. The other little birds of the forests gathered as if they were meeting together to plan the activities of their day.
They seemed to be attracted to the peanut buttery smell that came from the pine cones, and perhaps, they were sharp enough with their smellers that they could even smell the nuts and grains that stuck fast to it.
One day, while I was watching these birds from my window,
I was washing the dishes and kind of began to day dream and think about my own friends at home and friends I had when I was younger, and just thinking about special people in my life and the things about them that made them very special.
I noticed that two jay birds were arguing and fighting over one of the pine cone feeders, as if each one had a right to it and should keep the other away.
Some birds are like people, in that way, they might think that their friends should do everything just the way they do it or they want them to do it. So one jay was screeching at the other and flapping his wings and flying high and diving at the other, and the other jay was fluttering around trying to avoid the attack of the other, then began to attack back, so pretty soon feathers were flying in every direction and you might imagine the noise of the two screeching birds was enough to drive all the other animals back into the forest or into their nests to be sure they could feel safe from the sights and sounds of the fighting birds. Animals prefer to be in a safe comfortable place, a pleasant place when things are not going quite right.
The terrible sounds they made, fighting, they seemed to be calling one another terrible names and saying that only one could be right and the other had to be wrong then; didn't they know there are many ways to do things, and not just one right or wrong way. It was like they wouldn't allow any difference, things had to be done as they thought, or it was wrong.
I could almost hearing them demanding that they control the other birds.
As they fought they even broke branches on the pine tree, and I remember that piney smell that it made, a different smell than when I burned the branches in the fireplace,
and even different than when...
the sun shone on the branches and warmed them up.
Those sharp pine needles brushing and poking against the birds as
they dove and flew at each other,
the hard bumping feeling as they hit and pummeled one another. . . it was hard to watch and hard to listen to and became a pretty unpleasant scene. . .
I had to wonder why they were fighting, because I knew there were other pine cone feeders out there that
smelled of peanut butter and pine scent and had all the crunchy seeds and nuts on them as this one did, but somehow both of these Jays thought they had to have that very one, and didn't seem to think that they could share it.
Each bird seemed to think it had to have the just opposite of what it already had.
Maybe at a time in your past you've had an experience, where what you thought you had to have.
. . became the opposite of what
you came later to believe. .
a change with time, a change in the way you think, at this time
Like the Jay birds might have discovered had they taken the time to think about what they were fighting over. But we know these are birdbrains and cannot really think things through, only act at the time according to that nature.
Perhaps if the Jay birds would take that time and think things through, they might remember pleasant times together, in the trees with the sun shining on them, and the glitter of the light streams through the branches of the trees, down onto the cushions of fallen leaves on the forest ground below.
While you think about what the Jay birds might have been fighting over at that time, or imagine the pleasant experiences they might have had together at other times, you might want to take the time to go way way back
into your own childhood and find there some past pleasant memories
that you haven't thought about for a long time; because many things happened to you already in your own childhood things that were fun
things that were important
Right now, the most important thing is that you allow your inner mind to began to learn
to separate out
one thing from another
to begin to work
and sort through those childhood memories
to find one that is just pleasant enough and I want you
to enjoy that process
experience those feelings
when you find that pleasant memory
get inside that memory
notice the smells and sounds and tastes. You can even feel the feelings, the temperature of that pleasant time, and the feeling of the clothes your were wearing, their color and smell. The whole earth could have stopped right at that place in time and you would have to write a whole book to describe the experience in time and space, and color and sound, the feelings of what goes on because inside that memory is enjoyment for your own active mind.
And inside that memory is the foundation
that your inner mind
can use to build an entirely new learning;
Now inside that memory
that pleasant memory
something is occurring;
do you know what the name of that something is?
there is no need to say it out loud,
no need to tell me about it or any one else,
just remember the name you give it;
that is a set of words
that you can remember later on.
Maybe you can see the words in your mind like writing over a picture of that pleasant time,
, or hear the sound of the words--feel the shape they make as you write them on your own private tablet,
Now, when you went through life
you went from one memory to another
only. they weren't even memories yet,
they were just experiences, things happening,
and as you moved from one experience to another,
you would have an enjoyable one;
but as time went on,
your enjoyment would change to something else; because there
were also experiences which were very very unpleasant
some which might have really scared you;
some which you fought your way through and
from which you learned a lot about living;
much like the jay birds were having such an experience out of my window, in the trees, around that feeder,
Their time had started with a pleasant experience
in the forest pine tree, playing around,
sharing a treat from a feeder, then
finding themselves fighting and
struggling to stay alive;
and as you got through those experiences,
you might have said to yourself:
"never again"
and as time went on
those unpleasant experiences faded
into the past and they became the basis
of powerful learnings about
how to cope with the world
in a way that was effective;
Ways to take care of your self
and protect yourself on a daily basis.
they were useful ways. however,
they're not nearly as useful as
what happens when you
say the name of that pleasant memory;
say the name to yourself
and as you do;
you can go back there again;
that's right;
go back inside that memory;
the pleasant one;
and find the enjoyment
; that's right;
because you forgot to do something;
you can think about what you forgot,
lots of people forget;
When you go from a pleasant experience
to an unpleasant one, you don't
use the pleasantness as a way of coping;
use the feeling of the pleasantness as a way of dealing with the daily hurts you might feel.
on the other hand when you
leave an unpleasant experience
and go to a pleasant one;
somehow or other;
its so easy to take the unpleasantness with you;
it seems foolish somehow but yet
it is easier that way.
Perhaps that is why the Jay birds were fighting over the pine cone feeder, with the peanut butter and grains,
maybe they forgot to
remember the pleasant feelings of getting along and
playing gently together, sharing the tastes and feelings of the day,
and they only took the fear of going without food,
or the fear of being left behind, left out of the flock,
And if you take some time;
take a deep breath;
and let that unpleasant memory really fade away;
and then move forward and
go back into that pleasant memory
that enjoyable memory;
and when you're in that memory
this time you
tell yourself" I'll never forget this again:"
because some things . . . are a resource;
that you want to take with you;
some things are helpful to have with you all the time
saved away where you can
get to them at any time you might need them,
and some things are a burden;
the things that won't help you, or even might get in the way of your having a pleasant time,
enjoying your friends, and making life for yourself pleasant and comfortable and safe.
and those things, that drag you back are no longer needed;
If you have a bad experience, maybe you have had one just today,
and you
say to yourself; "never again:"
you can trust that your inner mind will allow you to
know what to avoid in the future;
and if you say, " a few moments ago I forgot to
take that pleasant memory with me;
and I felt all those bad feelings;
and I'm never going to do that again;
And I thought about those birds, outside of my window and wondered if they could
say those things, because I had seen them fighting before, and I think that is something they really don't enjoy doing to each other or having happen to themselves.
I wondered if they could
remember the pleasant time,
remember that earlier time before the fighting,
could they
go back into that enjoyment;
go into that pleasant memory;
and perhaps remember another one that 's
even more pleasant
find one that may even have a giggle under it or
a giggle over it...
perhaps one that has tenderness;
perhaps one that just has a lot of fun;...
because you went through your childhood;
you become a school kid and you made it this far;
but since you've made it so far,
that's no reason for you give up all the good things
its much more effective to
take them with you;
See what is the most pleasant memory your unconscious
mind can find
you can consciously look for memories,
but unconsciously you know how to
sort through memories much faster,
like a computer and more effectively;
your unconscious knows much more about your own experience
than I do and it can sort through memories at a high speed , until it finds one that it thinks your conscious mind would never have thought about,
which is pleasant in a very special way;
It can find more than one if it chooses;
it might show you a piece of one, a fragment of another;
it might show you a whole sequence of pleasant memories;
and as it does so; you might not realize it,
but you're doing the same thing you did
every day of your childhood for the first four years
and every day after that;
you're sorting through memories and experiences
trying to make sense of them;
in a way that's useful; and if you
find that thread that allows you to
have a good feeling,
very very slowly, I want you to
feel the palms of your hands,
begin to touch one another slowly
the warmth and texture
and as they come together I want you to
keep those good feelings; and I want you to
see your friends doing that special thing
that they do that seems so unpleasant;
that behavior that in the past you didn't like;
and I want you to see them do it;
and keep those good feelings;
and know how good it can feel
to have somebody special in the world;
that's right; the most special unique
experience that a person can have,
is to have a special friend;
some one who is special for them.
Now sometimes, because they are our friends
, and we spend a lot more time together than with other people,
or share a lot more things, or because
they are our brother or sister,
we live in the same house and share a lot of time and experiences, we start to scold and yell like the jay birds
, or even strike each other, making them feel bad;
when we forget that special feeling and we think what we are fighting about is more important
that is a terrible waste.
When you see your friend, or sibling doing that behavior that makes you feel angry or frustrated,
you will have palms on your hands; and if you
feel that good feeling inside you,
that pleasant thread of enjoyment,
not only will you have your palms,
but you'll have someone special in them.
Now I don't know, if you feel that you can afford to do other wise; but I know that as I go through life,
it is important to me
to be able to appreciate and to enjoy all the qualities
that make a special person unique
and individual
not just some of them, because what
you're learning here is not just a way
that your unconscious can assist you in
taking one piece of behavior and making it tolerable,
but a way in which you unconscious can begin to
appreciate every idiosyncratic piece of behavior;
I remember when I was little I'd get a sandwich the first thing I'd do is peel the crust off and feed it to my dog; I had to be very careful about this because my mother believed that the crust was the best part
; but as time went on, I discovered that not all breads tasted like rubber;
I discovered that there were some breads on which the crust really did taste good
and I discovered that as time went on my own tastes...
changed.... from one thing to another;
and as your tastes change;
and you learn to appreciate something
that you didn't before
it makes you aware and more alert
to just exactly what it is
that make something important;
Now above and beyond all this
there's something else going on here
which is that you have begun
a process
which can continue for many years
about learning to use your unconscious resources to
go deeper into yourself if you wish to
or just to communicate
with your unconscious mind for the purpose of learning and changing
Now as I watched the jay birds fighting, I realized that one or the other had suddenly discovered the other pine cone feeders in the trees and the sun was shining right down through the branches of the tree on them, as they seemed to decide that sharing the same one was not such a terrible thing after all. And when they stopped their quarreling, the other little animals and birds
begin to sneak back out into the sunshine to enjoy the rest of their day knowing that they might
be able to learn many things from the jay birds and from their pleasant experiences throughout the rest of the day.
I don't know if the birds could really
make changes in their behavior,
in the way they treat each other each day,
because birds have to do what they are designed to do,
but people have minds, and minds are important to be able to
change the way we act and the
way we treat each other.
It is our minds that help us to
have pleasant experiences and
have learnings from these special, pleasant experiences each day.
Sunday, March 15, 2009
The Garden
All rights reserved; this copy is given to you.
For information on copies please contact:
Growing Together Counseling and Education
801 224 3001 http://www.GrowingTogetherCounseling.com
The Garden. L. Jacobs
A fable/analogy
Audience: parents of young children at one level, and children at another level.
THE GARDEN
Not so very long ago, and not so very far away from where we live today lived a young and beautiful princess who had many wonderful talents and abilities. She was especially happy when she was dancing and whirling, and she liked very much to watch herself in the mirrors at the palace to see what she looked like as she danced and sang. She liked to watch her skirts twirl and fly as she danced and to see her dark brown eyes sparkle when she smiled. She enjoyed what she saw. She liked who she saw and she liked the thought that she made people happy and that everyone liked her too.
On the day of her birth the princess was presented with a beautiful garden which had been in the making for many years. It was surrounded by a tall rock wall, which protected it from the dangers of the world. All the grandparents and aunts and uncles and the King and Queen had contributed to the building of this lovely garden. Each had selected a special plant and special stones to decorate each and every corner of the garden. Living plants and tiny seeds and bulbs were distributed around the garden for the princess to discover and tend and make beautiful.
This garden was the gift of love to the young princess and each gave happily and willingly to make it as lovely as a garden could be.
This blessing was pronounced at her christening: "Go now, and tend your garden. It is beautiful and has everything you need to make it even more beautiful. Only you have the power to make it what you want it to be. No one can take away that power without your consent."
There was one creature in the world who did not love the princess. A wicked witch who had nothing of her own. This witch was jealous of the child's beautiful garden and plotted to force the child from the garden and take it away from her.
The wicked witch began to make friends with the child day by day and gain her trust. She came into the garden disguised as a teacher. As she did she pretended to look over the garden. Day by day the horrible creature came into the garden and pointed out plants that were not just like the queen's plants in the royal garden.
"Your plants are not nearly so beautiful as the Queen's. What will she say when she sees them so short?"
On another day the hoary monster would whisper, "Oh my, your sisters' trees are so much greener than yours, and the leaves so waxy. What will people say when they see your colorless leaves?"
The little princess said she did not care what people said. She loved her garden and knew that it was not finished yet. She knew it had to have time to grow and develop. The wicked witch saw that the child was growing smarter and time was running out, so she changed her costume to make her self look like a friend of the princess, and came each day to chat and listen to music and study. While she was there she told the princess, "Your bushes are sort of scrawny compared to my other friends' gardens. I would be embarrassed for my friends to see them like this."
Another day she might say,"Your flowers are such a funny color, they don't match any of my other friends' flowers." And the Princess would be left alone, wondering why her garden was so different from other peoples? It wouldn’t have mattered so much to the princess to have a different garden, but since it mattered so much to her teachers and her friends, the princess began to want to change things to match the other gardens.
That witch was a clever one, so she added another disguise to her collection and came once in a while as a young man wanting to date the princess. While in her garden the witch, pretending to be a young man, would say, "Your garden is really different from any I have seen."
At first the princess would say, "Thank you," but then she began to realize this wasn't supposed to be a complement because it was always followed by a suggestion to make changes in the garden that would make it more like those of all his friends.
The princess wondered about all these other gardens that looked so much alike, yet so different from hers. When she looked at other gardens she did not see so many differences, but her teacher , her friend, her boyfriends all saw the differences and did not approve of them.
"That little princess is strong willed, "wailed the witch. There is only one other way to get her garden, and she bewitched herself into a handsome young prince, who fell in love with the lovely princess and asked for her hand in marriage.
The princess was a little bewitched or enchanted too, and the arrangements for the marriage occurred so quickly that she did not have a good chance to take the prince through all of her garden.
The whole country had been invited to attend the royal wedding. There was a great celebration among the families and friends, and the princess worked on her garden to make it as beautiful as she could, for that would be her gift to the prince that she loved so very much.
On the day of the wedding the princess walked with the prince into her garden. She was so proud of it; she thought it was very beautiful and the most wonderful gift she could give to him.
The prince looked around the garden and said, "I thought it would be more like the queen's garden. This garden is quite different from what I expected. We must make some changes."
"Changes?" the princess asked. "What kind of changes?"
The prince began to describe a long list of changes. Some of the changes made sense, but most did not. He wanted to tear out the beautiful flowers that she had grown up with. He threatened to take out bushes that the King had given her and trees put there by her grandparents. He did not like the clover field laid down by her brothers' when she was still an infant, and he said the climbing roses she had worked so hard to raise and beautify were an eyesore.
She sat on the bench in one corner of the garden and began to cry. Why can't he love my garden as I do. How can he be so cruel. How will I ever live in my garden with all these changes, and if I cannot be in my garden, I will surely die. The princess began to look around at the rock wall that surrounded her garden and kept it safe from harm. She thought, "My teachers, my friends, the young men, and my prince don't like my garden. They must all be right. My garden is ugly and no good to anyone. I must leave my garden. I must escape over the wall, which is not a protection after all, but a barrier to more beautiful things of the world. I must go away."
As she sat and planned to escape this garden, darkness began to creep out from the corners of the garden. Further and further toward the center it crept until the bushes were hidden by it. The trees became mere shadows and the flowers and clover were nothing but memories of color. Slowly the princess looked around the darkness, walked carefully to the wall, feeling her way in the blackest night and began to climb the garden wall.
She gripped the rough rocks with her hands, scratching and cutting her fingers and palms, her feet dug into the cracks in the rocks below her, as she slowly lifted her entire body up onto the wall, suspended now, only by her own hands and feet. Inch by inch she climbed until the pain in the shoulders and back became nearly unbearable, but still she climbed, because she knew she could not go back into that terrible ugly garden. She must escape to the enticing wonders on the other side of the wall. She could not endure the thought of her garden with ugly horrible, misshapen plants. Upward she pushed on through the long dark night until at last, with a throbbing pain in her back and legs, and bruised and torn hands and feet, she was close to the top of the wall.
She could not see over but she put her foot up and over the top and stopped to gasp for breath. Her lungs felt as if they would burst and she thought she would never get enough air to satisfy her need at that moment.
As she hung suspended there in that dangerous awkward position, the dawn began to break in the east, and a shaft of white light fell upon her face, and a voice from the past seemed to whisper, "Go back and tend your garden. It is a beautiful garden, and has everything you need to make it even more beautiful. Only you have the power to make it what you want it to be. No one can take that power away without your consent."
She looked back down into the garden as the rising sun sparkled over the wall and lit the entire garden revealing it in its entire splendor. The sunlight lit every corner and every tree and bush and flower which had ever been planted there. Some of the plants were wilted with neglect, and others looked as if they had died down to nothing. Some were over grown and needed pruning, and many weeds had grown up that had to be removed. All needed tender loving care and nourishment. The vines had covered the mirrors, so no one could enjoy watching them. The princess saw all this plainly in the morning light.
What she recognized from her perch on that wall was that her garden was a place of beauty and comfort to live in and cultivate and enjoy for her entire life. She carefully climbed down the wall into her own garden, to plan how she would make what she had even more beautiful. She knew other gardens had things hers did not have, but most important she knew all that she had could be made more beautiful with effort and time and love.
The wicked witch was caught in the light from the dawn and her powers were diminished. The princess knew that the witch could only have power over her if she gave the witch that power. She knew that she could now recognize true friends and true love, because they would enjoy the beauties of her garden without insisting that changes be made, but allowing her to make changes and improvements as she was ready to.
So the princess lived in her garden, preparing beautiful gardens for her children and grandchildren and all that came after her to live in, to grow in, and to love and enjoy.
_l. L. Jacobs The Garden
For information on copies please contact:
Growing Together Counseling and Education
801 224 3001 http://www.GrowingTogetherCounseling.com
The Garden. L. Jacobs
A fable/analogy
Audience: parents of young children at one level, and children at another level.
THE GARDEN
Not so very long ago, and not so very far away from where we live today lived a young and beautiful princess who had many wonderful talents and abilities. She was especially happy when she was dancing and whirling, and she liked very much to watch herself in the mirrors at the palace to see what she looked like as she danced and sang. She liked to watch her skirts twirl and fly as she danced and to see her dark brown eyes sparkle when she smiled. She enjoyed what she saw. She liked who she saw and she liked the thought that she made people happy and that everyone liked her too.
On the day of her birth the princess was presented with a beautiful garden which had been in the making for many years. It was surrounded by a tall rock wall, which protected it from the dangers of the world. All the grandparents and aunts and uncles and the King and Queen had contributed to the building of this lovely garden. Each had selected a special plant and special stones to decorate each and every corner of the garden. Living plants and tiny seeds and bulbs were distributed around the garden for the princess to discover and tend and make beautiful.
This garden was the gift of love to the young princess and each gave happily and willingly to make it as lovely as a garden could be.
This blessing was pronounced at her christening: "Go now, and tend your garden. It is beautiful and has everything you need to make it even more beautiful. Only you have the power to make it what you want it to be. No one can take away that power without your consent."
There was one creature in the world who did not love the princess. A wicked witch who had nothing of her own. This witch was jealous of the child's beautiful garden and plotted to force the child from the garden and take it away from her.
The wicked witch began to make friends with the child day by day and gain her trust. She came into the garden disguised as a teacher. As she did she pretended to look over the garden. Day by day the horrible creature came into the garden and pointed out plants that were not just like the queen's plants in the royal garden.
"Your plants are not nearly so beautiful as the Queen's. What will she say when she sees them so short?"
On another day the hoary monster would whisper, "Oh my, your sisters' trees are so much greener than yours, and the leaves so waxy. What will people say when they see your colorless leaves?"
The little princess said she did not care what people said. She loved her garden and knew that it was not finished yet. She knew it had to have time to grow and develop. The wicked witch saw that the child was growing smarter and time was running out, so she changed her costume to make her self look like a friend of the princess, and came each day to chat and listen to music and study. While she was there she told the princess, "Your bushes are sort of scrawny compared to my other friends' gardens. I would be embarrassed for my friends to see them like this."
Another day she might say,"Your flowers are such a funny color, they don't match any of my other friends' flowers." And the Princess would be left alone, wondering why her garden was so different from other peoples? It wouldn’t have mattered so much to the princess to have a different garden, but since it mattered so much to her teachers and her friends, the princess began to want to change things to match the other gardens.
That witch was a clever one, so she added another disguise to her collection and came once in a while as a young man wanting to date the princess. While in her garden the witch, pretending to be a young man, would say, "Your garden is really different from any I have seen."
At first the princess would say, "Thank you," but then she began to realize this wasn't supposed to be a complement because it was always followed by a suggestion to make changes in the garden that would make it more like those of all his friends.
The princess wondered about all these other gardens that looked so much alike, yet so different from hers. When she looked at other gardens she did not see so many differences, but her teacher , her friend, her boyfriends all saw the differences and did not approve of them.
"That little princess is strong willed, "wailed the witch. There is only one other way to get her garden, and she bewitched herself into a handsome young prince, who fell in love with the lovely princess and asked for her hand in marriage.
The princess was a little bewitched or enchanted too, and the arrangements for the marriage occurred so quickly that she did not have a good chance to take the prince through all of her garden.
The whole country had been invited to attend the royal wedding. There was a great celebration among the families and friends, and the princess worked on her garden to make it as beautiful as she could, for that would be her gift to the prince that she loved so very much.
On the day of the wedding the princess walked with the prince into her garden. She was so proud of it; she thought it was very beautiful and the most wonderful gift she could give to him.
The prince looked around the garden and said, "I thought it would be more like the queen's garden. This garden is quite different from what I expected. We must make some changes."
"Changes?" the princess asked. "What kind of changes?"
The prince began to describe a long list of changes. Some of the changes made sense, but most did not. He wanted to tear out the beautiful flowers that she had grown up with. He threatened to take out bushes that the King had given her and trees put there by her grandparents. He did not like the clover field laid down by her brothers' when she was still an infant, and he said the climbing roses she had worked so hard to raise and beautify were an eyesore.
She sat on the bench in one corner of the garden and began to cry. Why can't he love my garden as I do. How can he be so cruel. How will I ever live in my garden with all these changes, and if I cannot be in my garden, I will surely die. The princess began to look around at the rock wall that surrounded her garden and kept it safe from harm. She thought, "My teachers, my friends, the young men, and my prince don't like my garden. They must all be right. My garden is ugly and no good to anyone. I must leave my garden. I must escape over the wall, which is not a protection after all, but a barrier to more beautiful things of the world. I must go away."
As she sat and planned to escape this garden, darkness began to creep out from the corners of the garden. Further and further toward the center it crept until the bushes were hidden by it. The trees became mere shadows and the flowers and clover were nothing but memories of color. Slowly the princess looked around the darkness, walked carefully to the wall, feeling her way in the blackest night and began to climb the garden wall.
She gripped the rough rocks with her hands, scratching and cutting her fingers and palms, her feet dug into the cracks in the rocks below her, as she slowly lifted her entire body up onto the wall, suspended now, only by her own hands and feet. Inch by inch she climbed until the pain in the shoulders and back became nearly unbearable, but still she climbed, because she knew she could not go back into that terrible ugly garden. She must escape to the enticing wonders on the other side of the wall. She could not endure the thought of her garden with ugly horrible, misshapen plants. Upward she pushed on through the long dark night until at last, with a throbbing pain in her back and legs, and bruised and torn hands and feet, she was close to the top of the wall.
She could not see over but she put her foot up and over the top and stopped to gasp for breath. Her lungs felt as if they would burst and she thought she would never get enough air to satisfy her need at that moment.
As she hung suspended there in that dangerous awkward position, the dawn began to break in the east, and a shaft of white light fell upon her face, and a voice from the past seemed to whisper, "Go back and tend your garden. It is a beautiful garden, and has everything you need to make it even more beautiful. Only you have the power to make it what you want it to be. No one can take that power away without your consent."
She looked back down into the garden as the rising sun sparkled over the wall and lit the entire garden revealing it in its entire splendor. The sunlight lit every corner and every tree and bush and flower which had ever been planted there. Some of the plants were wilted with neglect, and others looked as if they had died down to nothing. Some were over grown and needed pruning, and many weeds had grown up that had to be removed. All needed tender loving care and nourishment. The vines had covered the mirrors, so no one could enjoy watching them. The princess saw all this plainly in the morning light.
What she recognized from her perch on that wall was that her garden was a place of beauty and comfort to live in and cultivate and enjoy for her entire life. She carefully climbed down the wall into her own garden, to plan how she would make what she had even more beautiful. She knew other gardens had things hers did not have, but most important she knew all that she had could be made more beautiful with effort and time and love.
The wicked witch was caught in the light from the dawn and her powers were diminished. The princess knew that the witch could only have power over her if she gave the witch that power. She knew that she could now recognize true friends and true love, because they would enjoy the beauties of her garden without insisting that changes be made, but allowing her to make changes and improvements as she was ready to.
So the princess lived in her garden, preparing beautiful gardens for her children and grandchildren and all that came after her to live in, to grow in, and to love and enjoy.
_l. L. Jacobs The Garden
K.C.
All rights reserved; this copy is given to you.
For information on copies please contact:
Growing Together Counseling and Education
801 224 3001 http://www.GrowingTogetherCounseling.com
K.C.
Chapter I
I had to stay after school. Mr. H. waited for everyone else to leave the room. He paced back and forth across the front of the room. I hid my head in my arms and didn't look at him. But I could feel him pacing. I wondered what he was going to say to me this time. I have stayed in before, a lot, and usually he just makes me sit there a few minutes and then lets me go home.
He seemed pretty upset this time. He didn't start in talking, he just paced.
I looked at the clock for the fifth time.
"My gosh, I think the clock has stopped!" I thought.
He seemed pretty upset this time. I didn't think I would get off so easy. I peeked through my crossed arms to see if he looked as upset as his pacing sounded.
He paced a long time. I finally looked at him. I guess I wanted to get it over with.
He started to talk. "Kasey, do you know why you are here?"
I just shrugged. I guess I knew, but I didn't really know exactly what to say.
"Kasey, you have a really bad attitude."
I shrugged again, rolled my eyeballs back in my head and looked away.
"Kasey," he said in a slow, low voice, sort of like a groan.
"We need to talk. Will you talk with me?"
"Do I have a choice?" I chuckled.
"Yes, Kasey, you have a choice. I can't make you talk to me."
"OK, I guess we can talk. What do you want me to say?"
"I just want to help you...you seem to be so angry and,
well, you just seem like you are not really very happy."
Tears weld up in my eyes, but I didn't want him to see that I was going to cry,
so I rolled my eyes again and put my head down on my arms and shrugged.
"Kasey, I want to help you feel good.
Would you like to feel good?"
"I feel O.K. I'm happy."
"You just don't . . . seem happy--comfortable.
I'd just like to help you feel. . . better.
It's like you're up to bat and
all you have to do is step up to the plate,
and you are refusing to pick up the bat."
"Oh", I groaned and thought,
"I wish I could tell him how unhappy really am.
I wish I could tell him how much I would like to feel better,"
but all I could make myself to was shrug and look away.
"Kasey, if I just talk, and tell you some things,
can you just nod if I hit on something that you are thinking?"
I didn't look up. I couldn't look up or he would see my tears
and I couldn't let him know I was crying.
"Sometimes we think things in our mind,
that are really hard to say out loud because,
maybe we feel embarrassed Do you have those feelings?"
I nodded. I was thinking so many things, and I really was hoping he couldn't read my mind, because they weren't very nice things. I felt like I was screaming some of the thoughts out loud to drown out what he was saying.
"Kasey, you know, when we
think things about people around us,
about things that happen, about how we act,
the thoughts on the inside show on the outside.
That's called attitude."
"Attitude", I thought, "oh, great another great lecture about attitude.
If I have to listen to one more lecture about attitude. .
.I've been hearing this since second grade. . .'I just don't like your attitude.'"
Sometimes we
think a lot of thoughts
that upset us, and if we are not
listening to what we are thinking,
we don't even know what it is that is upsetting us."
"Do you understand?"
I nodded again. "Do I understand? cheeze,
what does he think I amstupid?
I've heard this so many times I could give the lecture."
"Well, when something happens that we don't like,
we might think,
'that's not fair',
`that shouldn't happen',
`things like that are awful'.
We think, `awful things shouldn't happen to me'.
`If I was not an awful person they wouldn't happen.'
"Do you ever think that?"
I nodded again, but didn't look up.
"This is not fair." I was thinking.
"I shouldn't have to listen to this garbage.
It is awful to have to stay in after school just for. . . just for whatever. .
if I was a decent kid this wouldn't always happen to me.
I must be a piece of junk."
"When we start thinking how awful the thing that happened is,"
he continued without waiting for my answer,
"and start thinking how awful we must be,
and maybe how worthless we are because of the awful
things that are happening,
to protect ourselves from feeling so useless and awful,
we try to make the people around us look or feel really low so that when we compare ourselves to them, we don't look so bad... to ourselves. Is that how you feel sometimes?"
I peeked through my arms and nodded. I was curious how he could know just what I was thinking, when I couldn't have even put it into words by myself.
"I need to protect myself," my mind said.
"I hate myself and everyone else does too. . .
if I wasn't such a terrible kid, people would like me and I would have friends,
and I wouldn't have to stay after school all the time listening to this junk."
"Kasey, do you think you're the only one
that feels like that, that thinks that way?"
I nodded, raising my eyebrows in a question, thinking:
"I know I'm the only one. . .
nobody else gets in trouble for bad attitude.
Nobody else has to stay after school every day every year with every teacher in the whole school.
Nobody else has a bad attitude. ...and nobody likes me because I do,
and I don't even know what a bad attitude is.
I don't even know what I'm doing that makes people get so mad at me."
Mr. H went on almost as if I were not in the room,
"A lot of people feel that way.
A lot of people, in fact, most people,
even most adults talk to themselves. .
self talk. . . about what is going on around them.
People who are comfortable and happy with their lives
are the ones who have recognized the self talk
and make choices about what they are going to think about.
They have decided to
keep the thoughts that make them feel good, happy. . .
and they do that, they
make choices everyday, all day long.
I thought:
"I wish I had some choices,
I wish I could get out of here,
I wish I was deaf so I wouldn't have to listen to this,
I wish I could just disappear, just vanish,
. . .beam me up Scottie..." I thought wishing for a space time warp to hide in.
"They don't even have to think about it after
they get used to it. They just
screen out the angry thoughts,
the thoughts about how awful things are or how awful they are. Kasey
you can learn to do that.
Would you like to learn?"
"I don't think I can.
It sounds too hard. I don't thank I am that smart."
I said out loud, mostly to myself.
"Well, I think you are that smart, and I think
you can do it--if you really want to--
I can help you, but you have to
want to enough to work really hard at it.
You think about it and tell me tomorrow."
"So, can I go home now?"
I muttered into my arms on my desk.
I was thinking:
"This wasn't the usual lecture. What happened to the threats and the finger waving in my face while yelling at me about straighten up and fly right. . .like how can a kid like me even fly when I can't do anything else right.. .face it I'm just a looser and anything he has to say to me won't help me. . .I just want to get out of here."
"YES, Kasey, you can go now."
Mr. H. groaned.
I grabbed my backpack, as I stood up fast,
and the motion tipped the chair over backward.
I didn't even stop to put it up. . .
I just turned on my heel and stomped out the door dragging the back pack.
I just wanted to get away from . . . mostly from myself.
I had to take time to think about the things Mr. H had said
all evening. I thought about it through dinner.
I thought about it while I was doing my homework.
It would be great not to feel awful all the time.
It would be nice to feel happy, and feel like I belonged.
But it made me afraid to think of how my teacher knew exactly what I was thinking.
Could he read my mind?
Was it written on my forehead somehow?
What if he read my mind and knew
all the awful things I was thinking while he was talking to me!
What did he say about helping me feel better?
How could he possibly know how bad I felt?
Did he know I hate myself as much as everyone else hates me?" I wanted so badly to
believe that he could help me change my life,
that I could step up to the plate and hit a home run,
but if I tried and couldn't change, I would really feel stupid and worthless,
Then I thought of that stupid light bulb joke,
"How many shrinks does it take to change a light bulb?
Only one but it has to really want to change."
I went to sleep thinking about what it all meant.
I didn't even have a clue.
Chapter II
When I went to school in the morning Mr. H didn't look at me funny or ask me any questions, or anything embarrassing like that. I stayed in my seat and did my work.
Someone whispered, "Kasey must have really gotten it last night!"
I rolled my eyeballs and gave him my dirtiest look.
Other than that, I guess I was being pretty quiet.
Break came and I expected Mr. H. to question me about my decision, I paused, but then afraid he might ask, I pushed my way out the door and got really busy playing ball; but he didn't say a word. He called on me just like the other kids, but not about what we had talked about. I didn't get my name on the board once and I just kept my head down working. I kept wishing I could disappear.I kept glancing up to see if he was looking at me. I kept wondering if he could read my mind. .if he knew what I was thinking. . .
maybe I wouldn't even have to talk to him, I could just think and he would know what I was thinking and could tell me what I needed to know.
By the end of the day I wanted so bad to talk about it with Mr. H. that I thought the bell would never ring I knew by then, he was really going to leave it up to me. I had to make the choice and I had to tell him if I wanted to talk. Even if he could read my mind, I guessed he wasn't going to make it that easy. I slipped a note onto his desk,
"I want to talk." and I didn't move when the bell rang.
I was really scared, but I had to find out if he was reading my mind or what.
Chapter III
I didn't cry this time. I didn't look away.
I just looked right at Mr. H and tried to
Listen to what he had to teach me.
It was hard work like he had promised.
It was hard work for him too, but we worked together.
Sometimes I got really mad.
Sometimes I told him I just couldn't change,
I was just me and nothing I could do to change that.
But mostly I tried to listen, and talk and work.
My friends kidded me about staying after school all the time.
They asked if I was in big trouble. I just shrugged and ignored them.
I couldn't explain to them what I was learning,
I couldn't tell them I was trying to change my attitude.
They just wouldn't even understand. So I didn't tell them anything.
Mr. H. called my parents and explained to them why I was staying after school so much. They didn't really understand, but they said it was O.K. if I wanted to talk.
Mom asked me a couple of times what we talked abut, but I just said, "oh, just stuff."
Now that I've changed my attitude I can tell you what we talked about,
but I know now that even if you don't understand,
and even if you laugh about it, or at me,
your laughing or puzzled looks don't matter.
I don't depend on your opinion of me to
know that I am O.K.
That was one of the first things Mr. H. explained to me. He said:
"Kasey, generally people think about themselves
and other people in two basic ways, O.K. or not O.K.
When people feel good about themselves and other people,
they think they are O.K. and other people are O.K_"
We say this attitude is `I'm OK , you're O.K.`
there are a lot of books for grown ups about being OK."
I guess there are a lot of people that don't feel OK.
"Those are the people that have a bad attitude.
Attitude is the way you think about things,
And if you think you are not OK or other people are not OK,
You think things like how awful other people are or how awful you are and you think a lot of things that make you feel angry, or afraid or that you are not worth much to yourself or others.
When you start thinking things like that . . . it shows.
It shows in your looks and in your body language.
Other people feel your attitude and want to stay away from you.
So then I knew how he read my mind. I wasn't so different from other kids, even people, who were upset and angry a lot. What was a surprise to me was that when I looked around at the kids in my class in my school, I realized I got angry and upset a whole lot more than most of them. I hadn't ever thought about it, but if I had I would have probably thought everyone got mad about the same much.
So we worked on my attitude. To do this I began to write in a journal. In the journal I would write down all the things that made me feel upset.
Well, actually I learned that the things I wrote down were not the things that upset me.
Mr. H. explained:
"it is not what you're thinking about the things that happened that upset you."
In other words, he told me, that
"You chose to upset yourself by thinking upsetting thoughts
about the things that happened. .
Do you know what I mean?
Let me show you:
If he gave a pop quiz and I hadn't read the chapter and couldn't answer the questions,
I would get really angry. But he told me that it wasn't the pop quiz that really made me angry. It was what I thought about the pop quiz. So I wrote down in my journal:
"I missed 6 questions out of ten on the pop quiz. Feeling: I got angry and acted really dumb."
Mr. H. looked at my journal. He told me:
"Write the things I was thinking about before you got angry."
I said, "I didn't think anything. . .
I just flunked the stupid test and it made me angry."
He chuckled. I didn't think it was very funny. But his smile made me feel O.K., so
I continued to listen.
"I thought about how stupid I must be to miss so many questions."
"Anything else?" he asked.
"I thought I wasn't much good if I was that stupid."
"Anything. . .?"
"Yes, I thought, `no wonder no one likes me, I'm just a crud.`"
"So you ended up feeling like no one should like you
because you missed some questions on a pop quiz?"
“Yes. I guess that is what I thought about.
I think I thought some other things too,
like `It was really awful that you gave the test when I hadn't studied`,
and `I was really stupid not to study when you gave us the assignment`, and
`it was really awful that you gave us an assignment when there was a game that night',
and, oh, I guess I thought a lot of awful things about you,
and about myself and about school and . . .
How could I think so many things in such a short time?
I thought I just messed up the test and got mad!"
Then when I played in the baseball game after school I struck out.
I threw the bat and got a penalty for the team.
I stamped back to the dugout and was really angry.
I wouldn't let anyone talk to me, and when they did I yelled and told them how stupid they were and said things like it was their fault we were loosing the game.
When I wrote it in my journal I said:
"We lost the game and it made me really mad."
Mr. H. helped me re write it to say:
"We lost the game, and here are the things that I thought about
that made me feel so upset:
I struck out! I couldn't even hit the stupid ball.
The stupid pitcher couldn't even throw it straight.
I should be able to hit it anyway.
I bet everyone hates me because I struck out.
If I was any good I wouldn't make mistakes. . .
if I was any good I wouldn't miss the ball.
I'm a real dork.!
I have no business playing on the dumb team anyway.
I'm sure everyone hates me now.
I don't think I have any friends.
They probably all wish I wasn't even here to play.
I wish I wasn't here to play.
I wish I could just get hit by a big truck and disappear.
I am sure a useless kid."
I felt foolish writing all those things,
and I was embarrassed to admit that I had thought them,
but Mr. H. said,
When I
write my thoughts down
and admit to myself what I think,
it's all part of the work of getting to
feel better about myself.
We talked about each thought, and he called them irrational beliefs.
Irrational beliefs are things we think about ourselves that we believe might be true, but other people probably don't think so.
So Mr. H. said, "Do you think everyone thinks this about you?
I said, "only when I strike out."
He asked me,
"Is that what you think about the other kids
when they make a mistake?"
I said, "no."
and he asked if maybe they might not think like that about me either.
I said, "probably not. . .but when I am angry. . "
"When you choose to be angry. . ." Mr. H corrected.
"Yea, when I choose to be angry, and think angry thoughts,
those are the thoughts I choose to help me be more angry."
As I went to sleep night after night I would
Take the time to think about choosing my thoughts and choosing my feelings,
And I started to understand that I didn't have to dislike myself,
I could like myself even if I made mistakes...
even if I couldn't do everything right.
Chapter IV
Then he taught me a kind of short hand way to write it down.
[A] stands for action.
That's the thing that happens first.
[B] stands for Belief.
That's how I think about what happened.
Things that I believe about what happen
are what cause me to feel
[C] the consequences.
Consequences are the things
that are caused by the things that happen,
but when we talk about feelings, I began to learn that the
consequences are really caused by the beliefs.
In other words:
What I believe (B) about what happened (A)
actually causes
[C]--consequences or feelings.
So after a lot of practice, I began to be able to
just write down what happened and label them A,B,C;
and each time I wrote it I would
understand the ideas better and better and begin to
know that it was what I was thinking that made me feel upset
and not the things that happened around me.
One night I dreamed that Billy called me a green dinosaur,
And in the dream it made me turn into a green dinosaur. . .
I saw the green spreading, and I kept saying,
"I believe it's true,
I believe its true,"
and the green kept getting greener
and the dinosaur that I was turning into kept getting bigger and then
I began to shout "stop" and I woke myself up
and said out loud to my pillow,
"I choose not to believe Billy!"
And in my mind I could see the green fading and the dinosaur shrinking away, and could picture myself smiling.
I knew then it was true:
What I believe about what happens is what makes me feel upset.
I went back to sleep smiling, hoping to dream more about it.
So every day we would do that over and over,
about everything I got mad about in class or after school or at home. .
pretty soon I could
write down a feeling and the thoughts that caused them
without even talking with Mr. H.
I continued to keep my journal for a while,
and pretty soon, I discovered I no longer needed to
write down each time it happened. I just would
realize when I was starting to get upset, and I would
begin to listen to my self-talk.
Then I started learning to be able to
choose which thoughts I wanted to listen to.
I learned how to
push the other thoughts away,
the not O.K. thoughts, and just
listen to the comfortable OK thoughts.
I learned to relax deeply and go to sleep at night saying
[A]--action,[B]--beliefs--[C] --consequences, feelings, emotions.
It is what I B believe
about the A action that makes me
C feel the way I feel.
I can choose what I think and do.
I might not like how I feel but I can choose how I think and act.
. . and one night I sat up in bed and said out loud,
"If I can choose how I think and act,
I can choose how I feel.
I'm in charge of how I feel. . .
I'm up to bat. . .and I can choose the score.
When things happened at school, or Brandon called me a whimp,
I took a breath, said to myself,
"[A]: Brandon called me a whimp,
[B] I don't believe I' a whimp,
[C] I feel O.K.."
and that all took about a half a second,
and I would just go on playing or doing what I chose to do.
I saw one kid turn to Brandon and say, "Nobody calls me a whimp"
And I started thinking,
[A]: Brandon called him a whimp,
[B].he believes he must be a whimp, and that being a whimp makes him no good and that he has to protect himself from being no good, and
[C] he got angry and took a punch at Brandon."
I laughed, I could not believe anymore that anyone would believe they were no good just because someone called him a whimp.!
Chapter V
I kept working with Mr. H. and he taught me a way to
push away the not OK thoughts.
I pictured in my mind a path that went into a beautiful forest.
At the back of the forest was a cliff and when I had a thought I didn't choose to keep,
I could picture that forest and that cliff, and push the thoughts through the forest and over the cliff into a bottomless canyon so I did not allow them to come back.
"Garbage thoughts are like copping out and blaming others for things that happened.
Over generalizations, using words like everyone, no one, never, always...about things that just happened sometimes, just even once in a while."
Other garbage thoughts come when I demand that everything be the way I want it to be,
or that people should do what I want,
or that the world should be different
just because I don't like it the way it is.
"Catastrophising," Mr. H. said,
"is the most common garbage of all because we
start thinking about how terrible things that happen are.
Everything becomes a disaster, everything is horrible and we say, "I'll die if that happens."
Mr. H. used another special word, "paranoia", to describe how we sometimes might think people are doing things just to be mean,
or even to us or at us,
like when we say he was looking at me, or saying that about me,
when someone just does or says something.
Anyway, at first I have to
picture the cliff over and over again
and practice pushing the same not O.K. thoughts over the cliff
a bunch of times every day. For a few weeks I had to continue to
work very hard writing in my journal and talking with Mr. H,
but then, it seemed to begin to happen by itself...
and mostly I didn't even have to
listen to what I was thinking, because I was
starting to develop a new habit
of only thinking the OK thoughts. . .
Thoughts about the things that made me like myself
and I began to feel comfortable around other people.
I learned that I could
feel OK about myself and about other people,
even if they didn't always do the things I wanted them to.
I learned some new ways of thinking.
First I broke the habit of calling
everything and everyone dumb, stupid, dang,
and the other slang words I used to describe just about everything. When I decided to
stop using just those slang words,
my world seemed more pleasant and I liked being in it more.
Then I started pitching the cop outs,
Discarding the demanding , and generalizations
over the cliff.
Then I began to work on all the catastrophe words I used,
And filtered the paranoid statements.
Over they went,
into the bottomless pit.
I learned to stop thinking that everything I did, every mistake I made,
meant that I was a bad kid. I had to
really work hard to learn that
the things that I do or say isn't me,
and don't make me a good or bad person.
I am a person, and
I am valuable and lovable and capable.
When I make mistakes I can learn from them, and
by learning I become stronger and more capable.
The more time I spent in
practice dumping the garbage thoughts
and learning to
replace them with pleasant happy thoughts,
the happier I became.
The more I began to
think of myself as lovable and capable,
the less I thought about disappearing or about other people not liking me.
Chapter VII
I feel happy and comfortable around my family, I laugh at their joking
and it is fun to be with them.
I joke with my friends and laugh at myself when I make mistakes.
My work in school is better and my attitude is great.
When I decided it was time to tell my friends
what I had been doing, I realized that I had more friends to tell.
And I didn't even have to tell them,
because they knew that I was different from what I had been;
they could tell I had a better attitude,
and they liked being around me a lot more.
I like me a lot more too.
So that's when I decided I would tell you about it.
The End
For information on copies please contact:
Growing Together Counseling and Education
801 224 3001 http://www.GrowingTogetherCounseling.com
K.C.
Chapter I
I had to stay after school. Mr. H. waited for everyone else to leave the room. He paced back and forth across the front of the room. I hid my head in my arms and didn't look at him. But I could feel him pacing. I wondered what he was going to say to me this time. I have stayed in before, a lot, and usually he just makes me sit there a few minutes and then lets me go home.
He seemed pretty upset this time. He didn't start in talking, he just paced.
I looked at the clock for the fifth time.
"My gosh, I think the clock has stopped!" I thought.
He seemed pretty upset this time. I didn't think I would get off so easy. I peeked through my crossed arms to see if he looked as upset as his pacing sounded.
He paced a long time. I finally looked at him. I guess I wanted to get it over with.
He started to talk. "Kasey, do you know why you are here?"
I just shrugged. I guess I knew, but I didn't really know exactly what to say.
"Kasey, you have a really bad attitude."
I shrugged again, rolled my eyeballs back in my head and looked away.
"Kasey," he said in a slow, low voice, sort of like a groan.
"We need to talk. Will you talk with me?"
"Do I have a choice?" I chuckled.
"Yes, Kasey, you have a choice. I can't make you talk to me."
"OK, I guess we can talk. What do you want me to say?"
"I just want to help you...you seem to be so angry and,
well, you just seem like you are not really very happy."
Tears weld up in my eyes, but I didn't want him to see that I was going to cry,
so I rolled my eyes again and put my head down on my arms and shrugged.
"Kasey, I want to help you feel good.
Would you like to feel good?"
"I feel O.K. I'm happy."
"You just don't . . . seem happy--comfortable.
I'd just like to help you feel. . . better.
It's like you're up to bat and
all you have to do is step up to the plate,
and you are refusing to pick up the bat."
"Oh", I groaned and thought,
"I wish I could tell him how unhappy really am.
I wish I could tell him how much I would like to feel better,"
but all I could make myself to was shrug and look away.
"Kasey, if I just talk, and tell you some things,
can you just nod if I hit on something that you are thinking?"
I didn't look up. I couldn't look up or he would see my tears
and I couldn't let him know I was crying.
"Sometimes we think things in our mind,
that are really hard to say out loud because,
maybe we feel embarrassed Do you have those feelings?"
I nodded. I was thinking so many things, and I really was hoping he couldn't read my mind, because they weren't very nice things. I felt like I was screaming some of the thoughts out loud to drown out what he was saying.
"Kasey, you know, when we
think things about people around us,
about things that happen, about how we act,
the thoughts on the inside show on the outside.
That's called attitude."
"Attitude", I thought, "oh, great another great lecture about attitude.
If I have to listen to one more lecture about attitude. .
.I've been hearing this since second grade. . .'I just don't like your attitude.'"
Sometimes we
think a lot of thoughts
that upset us, and if we are not
listening to what we are thinking,
we don't even know what it is that is upsetting us."
"Do you understand?"
I nodded again. "Do I understand? cheeze,
what does he think I amstupid?
I've heard this so many times I could give the lecture."
"Well, when something happens that we don't like,
we might think,
'that's not fair',
`that shouldn't happen',
`things like that are awful'.
We think, `awful things shouldn't happen to me'.
`If I was not an awful person they wouldn't happen.'
"Do you ever think that?"
I nodded again, but didn't look up.
"This is not fair." I was thinking.
"I shouldn't have to listen to this garbage.
It is awful to have to stay in after school just for. . . just for whatever. .
if I was a decent kid this wouldn't always happen to me.
I must be a piece of junk."
"When we start thinking how awful the thing that happened is,"
he continued without waiting for my answer,
"and start thinking how awful we must be,
and maybe how worthless we are because of the awful
things that are happening,
to protect ourselves from feeling so useless and awful,
we try to make the people around us look or feel really low so that when we compare ourselves to them, we don't look so bad... to ourselves. Is that how you feel sometimes?"
I peeked through my arms and nodded. I was curious how he could know just what I was thinking, when I couldn't have even put it into words by myself.
"I need to protect myself," my mind said.
"I hate myself and everyone else does too. . .
if I wasn't such a terrible kid, people would like me and I would have friends,
and I wouldn't have to stay after school all the time listening to this junk."
"Kasey, do you think you're the only one
that feels like that, that thinks that way?"
I nodded, raising my eyebrows in a question, thinking:
"I know I'm the only one. . .
nobody else gets in trouble for bad attitude.
Nobody else has to stay after school every day every year with every teacher in the whole school.
Nobody else has a bad attitude. ...and nobody likes me because I do,
and I don't even know what a bad attitude is.
I don't even know what I'm doing that makes people get so mad at me."
Mr. H went on almost as if I were not in the room,
"A lot of people feel that way.
A lot of people, in fact, most people,
even most adults talk to themselves. .
self talk. . . about what is going on around them.
People who are comfortable and happy with their lives
are the ones who have recognized the self talk
and make choices about what they are going to think about.
They have decided to
keep the thoughts that make them feel good, happy. . .
and they do that, they
make choices everyday, all day long.
I thought:
"I wish I had some choices,
I wish I could get out of here,
I wish I was deaf so I wouldn't have to listen to this,
I wish I could just disappear, just vanish,
. . .beam me up Scottie..." I thought wishing for a space time warp to hide in.
"They don't even have to think about it after
they get used to it. They just
screen out the angry thoughts,
the thoughts about how awful things are or how awful they are. Kasey
you can learn to do that.
Would you like to learn?"
"I don't think I can.
It sounds too hard. I don't thank I am that smart."
I said out loud, mostly to myself.
"Well, I think you are that smart, and I think
you can do it--if you really want to--
I can help you, but you have to
want to enough to work really hard at it.
You think about it and tell me tomorrow."
"So, can I go home now?"
I muttered into my arms on my desk.
I was thinking:
"This wasn't the usual lecture. What happened to the threats and the finger waving in my face while yelling at me about straighten up and fly right. . .like how can a kid like me even fly when I can't do anything else right.. .face it I'm just a looser and anything he has to say to me won't help me. . .I just want to get out of here."
"YES, Kasey, you can go now."
Mr. H. groaned.
I grabbed my backpack, as I stood up fast,
and the motion tipped the chair over backward.
I didn't even stop to put it up. . .
I just turned on my heel and stomped out the door dragging the back pack.
I just wanted to get away from . . . mostly from myself.
I had to take time to think about the things Mr. H had said
all evening. I thought about it through dinner.
I thought about it while I was doing my homework.
It would be great not to feel awful all the time.
It would be nice to feel happy, and feel like I belonged.
But it made me afraid to think of how my teacher knew exactly what I was thinking.
Could he read my mind?
Was it written on my forehead somehow?
What if he read my mind and knew
all the awful things I was thinking while he was talking to me!
What did he say about helping me feel better?
How could he possibly know how bad I felt?
Did he know I hate myself as much as everyone else hates me?" I wanted so badly to
believe that he could help me change my life,
that I could step up to the plate and hit a home run,
but if I tried and couldn't change, I would really feel stupid and worthless,
Then I thought of that stupid light bulb joke,
"How many shrinks does it take to change a light bulb?
Only one but it has to really want to change."
I went to sleep thinking about what it all meant.
I didn't even have a clue.
Chapter II
When I went to school in the morning Mr. H didn't look at me funny or ask me any questions, or anything embarrassing like that. I stayed in my seat and did my work.
Someone whispered, "Kasey must have really gotten it last night!"
I rolled my eyeballs and gave him my dirtiest look.
Other than that, I guess I was being pretty quiet.
Break came and I expected Mr. H. to question me about my decision, I paused, but then afraid he might ask, I pushed my way out the door and got really busy playing ball; but he didn't say a word. He called on me just like the other kids, but not about what we had talked about. I didn't get my name on the board once and I just kept my head down working. I kept wishing I could disappear.I kept glancing up to see if he was looking at me. I kept wondering if he could read my mind. .if he knew what I was thinking. . .
maybe I wouldn't even have to talk to him, I could just think and he would know what I was thinking and could tell me what I needed to know.
By the end of the day I wanted so bad to talk about it with Mr. H. that I thought the bell would never ring I knew by then, he was really going to leave it up to me. I had to make the choice and I had to tell him if I wanted to talk. Even if he could read my mind, I guessed he wasn't going to make it that easy. I slipped a note onto his desk,
"I want to talk." and I didn't move when the bell rang.
I was really scared, but I had to find out if he was reading my mind or what.
Chapter III
I didn't cry this time. I didn't look away.
I just looked right at Mr. H and tried to
Listen to what he had to teach me.
It was hard work like he had promised.
It was hard work for him too, but we worked together.
Sometimes I got really mad.
Sometimes I told him I just couldn't change,
I was just me and nothing I could do to change that.
But mostly I tried to listen, and talk and work.
My friends kidded me about staying after school all the time.
They asked if I was in big trouble. I just shrugged and ignored them.
I couldn't explain to them what I was learning,
I couldn't tell them I was trying to change my attitude.
They just wouldn't even understand. So I didn't tell them anything.
Mr. H. called my parents and explained to them why I was staying after school so much. They didn't really understand, but they said it was O.K. if I wanted to talk.
Mom asked me a couple of times what we talked abut, but I just said, "oh, just stuff."
Now that I've changed my attitude I can tell you what we talked about,
but I know now that even if you don't understand,
and even if you laugh about it, or at me,
your laughing or puzzled looks don't matter.
I don't depend on your opinion of me to
know that I am O.K.
That was one of the first things Mr. H. explained to me. He said:
"Kasey, generally people think about themselves
and other people in two basic ways, O.K. or not O.K.
When people feel good about themselves and other people,
they think they are O.K. and other people are O.K_"
We say this attitude is `I'm OK , you're O.K.`
there are a lot of books for grown ups about being OK."
I guess there are a lot of people that don't feel OK.
"Those are the people that have a bad attitude.
Attitude is the way you think about things,
And if you think you are not OK or other people are not OK,
You think things like how awful other people are or how awful you are and you think a lot of things that make you feel angry, or afraid or that you are not worth much to yourself or others.
When you start thinking things like that . . . it shows.
It shows in your looks and in your body language.
Other people feel your attitude and want to stay away from you.
So then I knew how he read my mind. I wasn't so different from other kids, even people, who were upset and angry a lot. What was a surprise to me was that when I looked around at the kids in my class in my school, I realized I got angry and upset a whole lot more than most of them. I hadn't ever thought about it, but if I had I would have probably thought everyone got mad about the same much.
So we worked on my attitude. To do this I began to write in a journal. In the journal I would write down all the things that made me feel upset.
Well, actually I learned that the things I wrote down were not the things that upset me.
Mr. H. explained:
"it is not what you're thinking about the things that happened that upset you."
In other words, he told me, that
"You chose to upset yourself by thinking upsetting thoughts
about the things that happened. .
Do you know what I mean?
Let me show you:
If he gave a pop quiz and I hadn't read the chapter and couldn't answer the questions,
I would get really angry. But he told me that it wasn't the pop quiz that really made me angry. It was what I thought about the pop quiz. So I wrote down in my journal:
"I missed 6 questions out of ten on the pop quiz. Feeling: I got angry and acted really dumb."
Mr. H. looked at my journal. He told me:
"Write the things I was thinking about before you got angry."
I said, "I didn't think anything. . .
I just flunked the stupid test and it made me angry."
He chuckled. I didn't think it was very funny. But his smile made me feel O.K., so
I continued to listen.
"I thought about how stupid I must be to miss so many questions."
"Anything else?" he asked.
"I thought I wasn't much good if I was that stupid."
"Anything. . .?"
"Yes, I thought, `no wonder no one likes me, I'm just a crud.`"
"So you ended up feeling like no one should like you
because you missed some questions on a pop quiz?"
“Yes. I guess that is what I thought about.
I think I thought some other things too,
like `It was really awful that you gave the test when I hadn't studied`,
and `I was really stupid not to study when you gave us the assignment`, and
`it was really awful that you gave us an assignment when there was a game that night',
and, oh, I guess I thought a lot of awful things about you,
and about myself and about school and . . .
How could I think so many things in such a short time?
I thought I just messed up the test and got mad!"
Then when I played in the baseball game after school I struck out.
I threw the bat and got a penalty for the team.
I stamped back to the dugout and was really angry.
I wouldn't let anyone talk to me, and when they did I yelled and told them how stupid they were and said things like it was their fault we were loosing the game.
When I wrote it in my journal I said:
"We lost the game and it made me really mad."
Mr. H. helped me re write it to say:
"We lost the game, and here are the things that I thought about
that made me feel so upset:
I struck out! I couldn't even hit the stupid ball.
The stupid pitcher couldn't even throw it straight.
I should be able to hit it anyway.
I bet everyone hates me because I struck out.
If I was any good I wouldn't make mistakes. . .
if I was any good I wouldn't miss the ball.
I'm a real dork.!
I have no business playing on the dumb team anyway.
I'm sure everyone hates me now.
I don't think I have any friends.
They probably all wish I wasn't even here to play.
I wish I wasn't here to play.
I wish I could just get hit by a big truck and disappear.
I am sure a useless kid."
I felt foolish writing all those things,
and I was embarrassed to admit that I had thought them,
but Mr. H. said,
When I
write my thoughts down
and admit to myself what I think,
it's all part of the work of getting to
feel better about myself.
We talked about each thought, and he called them irrational beliefs.
Irrational beliefs are things we think about ourselves that we believe might be true, but other people probably don't think so.
So Mr. H. said, "Do you think everyone thinks this about you?
I said, "only when I strike out."
He asked me,
"Is that what you think about the other kids
when they make a mistake?"
I said, "no."
and he asked if maybe they might not think like that about me either.
I said, "probably not. . .but when I am angry. . "
"When you choose to be angry. . ." Mr. H corrected.
"Yea, when I choose to be angry, and think angry thoughts,
those are the thoughts I choose to help me be more angry."
As I went to sleep night after night I would
Take the time to think about choosing my thoughts and choosing my feelings,
And I started to understand that I didn't have to dislike myself,
I could like myself even if I made mistakes...
even if I couldn't do everything right.
Chapter IV
Then he taught me a kind of short hand way to write it down.
[A] stands for action.
That's the thing that happens first.
[B] stands for Belief.
That's how I think about what happened.
Things that I believe about what happen
are what cause me to feel
[C] the consequences.
Consequences are the things
that are caused by the things that happen,
but when we talk about feelings, I began to learn that the
consequences are really caused by the beliefs.
In other words:
What I believe (B) about what happened (A)
actually causes
[C]--consequences or feelings.
So after a lot of practice, I began to be able to
just write down what happened and label them A,B,C;
and each time I wrote it I would
understand the ideas better and better and begin to
know that it was what I was thinking that made me feel upset
and not the things that happened around me.
One night I dreamed that Billy called me a green dinosaur,
And in the dream it made me turn into a green dinosaur. . .
I saw the green spreading, and I kept saying,
"I believe it's true,
I believe its true,"
and the green kept getting greener
and the dinosaur that I was turning into kept getting bigger and then
I began to shout "stop" and I woke myself up
and said out loud to my pillow,
"I choose not to believe Billy!"
And in my mind I could see the green fading and the dinosaur shrinking away, and could picture myself smiling.
I knew then it was true:
What I believe about what happens is what makes me feel upset.
I went back to sleep smiling, hoping to dream more about it.
So every day we would do that over and over,
about everything I got mad about in class or after school or at home. .
pretty soon I could
write down a feeling and the thoughts that caused them
without even talking with Mr. H.
I continued to keep my journal for a while,
and pretty soon, I discovered I no longer needed to
write down each time it happened. I just would
realize when I was starting to get upset, and I would
begin to listen to my self-talk.
Then I started learning to be able to
choose which thoughts I wanted to listen to.
I learned how to
push the other thoughts away,
the not O.K. thoughts, and just
listen to the comfortable OK thoughts.
I learned to relax deeply and go to sleep at night saying
[A]--action,[B]--beliefs--[C] --consequences, feelings, emotions.
It is what I B believe
about the A action that makes me
C feel the way I feel.
I can choose what I think and do.
I might not like how I feel but I can choose how I think and act.
. . and one night I sat up in bed and said out loud,
"If I can choose how I think and act,
I can choose how I feel.
I'm in charge of how I feel. . .
I'm up to bat. . .and I can choose the score.
When things happened at school, or Brandon called me a whimp,
I took a breath, said to myself,
"[A]: Brandon called me a whimp,
[B] I don't believe I' a whimp,
[C] I feel O.K.."
and that all took about a half a second,
and I would just go on playing or doing what I chose to do.
I saw one kid turn to Brandon and say, "Nobody calls me a whimp"
And I started thinking,
[A]: Brandon called him a whimp,
[B].he believes he must be a whimp, and that being a whimp makes him no good and that he has to protect himself from being no good, and
[C] he got angry and took a punch at Brandon."
I laughed, I could not believe anymore that anyone would believe they were no good just because someone called him a whimp.!
Chapter V
I kept working with Mr. H. and he taught me a way to
push away the not OK thoughts.
I pictured in my mind a path that went into a beautiful forest.
At the back of the forest was a cliff and when I had a thought I didn't choose to keep,
I could picture that forest and that cliff, and push the thoughts through the forest and over the cliff into a bottomless canyon so I did not allow them to come back.
"Garbage thoughts are like copping out and blaming others for things that happened.
Over generalizations, using words like everyone, no one, never, always...about things that just happened sometimes, just even once in a while."
Other garbage thoughts come when I demand that everything be the way I want it to be,
or that people should do what I want,
or that the world should be different
just because I don't like it the way it is.
"Catastrophising," Mr. H. said,
"is the most common garbage of all because we
start thinking about how terrible things that happen are.
Everything becomes a disaster, everything is horrible and we say, "I'll die if that happens."
Mr. H. used another special word, "paranoia", to describe how we sometimes might think people are doing things just to be mean,
or even to us or at us,
like when we say he was looking at me, or saying that about me,
when someone just does or says something.
Anyway, at first I have to
picture the cliff over and over again
and practice pushing the same not O.K. thoughts over the cliff
a bunch of times every day. For a few weeks I had to continue to
work very hard writing in my journal and talking with Mr. H,
but then, it seemed to begin to happen by itself...
and mostly I didn't even have to
listen to what I was thinking, because I was
starting to develop a new habit
of only thinking the OK thoughts. . .
Thoughts about the things that made me like myself
and I began to feel comfortable around other people.
I learned that I could
feel OK about myself and about other people,
even if they didn't always do the things I wanted them to.
I learned some new ways of thinking.
First I broke the habit of calling
everything and everyone dumb, stupid, dang,
and the other slang words I used to describe just about everything. When I decided to
stop using just those slang words,
my world seemed more pleasant and I liked being in it more.
Then I started pitching the cop outs,
Discarding the demanding , and generalizations
over the cliff.
Then I began to work on all the catastrophe words I used,
And filtered the paranoid statements.
Over they went,
into the bottomless pit.
I learned to stop thinking that everything I did, every mistake I made,
meant that I was a bad kid. I had to
really work hard to learn that
the things that I do or say isn't me,
and don't make me a good or bad person.
I am a person, and
I am valuable and lovable and capable.
When I make mistakes I can learn from them, and
by learning I become stronger and more capable.
The more time I spent in
practice dumping the garbage thoughts
and learning to
replace them with pleasant happy thoughts,
the happier I became.
The more I began to
think of myself as lovable and capable,
the less I thought about disappearing or about other people not liking me.
Chapter VII
I feel happy and comfortable around my family, I laugh at their joking
and it is fun to be with them.
I joke with my friends and laugh at myself when I make mistakes.
My work in school is better and my attitude is great.
When I decided it was time to tell my friends
what I had been doing, I realized that I had more friends to tell.
And I didn't even have to tell them,
because they knew that I was different from what I had been;
they could tell I had a better attitude,
and they liked being around me a lot more.
I like me a lot more too.
So that's when I decided I would tell you about it.
The End
Santa's Elves
All rights reserved; this copy is given to you.
For information on copies please contact:
Growing Together Counseling and Education
801 224 3001 http://www.GrowingTogetherCounseling.com
Santa's Elves;
Way far away at the north pole
where Santa Clause lives with his elves,
the weather is very cold, and the days are very short.
The sun doesn't come up until late in the morning
and sets early in the afternoon,
leaving the world dark and cold.
Sometimes it is really hard for the little elves to
get up and get going when it is still cold and dark
but they know that they need to
go to work each day in order to make all the toys
needed by boys and girls around the world for Christmas.
Santa does all he can to make mornings pleasant for the little elves.
He strings brightly colored lights all over their tiny houses and along the paths through the long tunnels of snow which connect their houses to their work shop. They have tunnels through the snow to block the cold winds and cold temperatures. The elves can feel warmer and feel safe
as they go to work every day.
The elves all have warm clothes to wear: shirts and sweaters and heavy soft coats they can wear over all their warm clothes. On top of their warm socks they put on shoes and then heavy, heavy boots, which make them waddle around on their way to work. They can all feel safe and protected from the blizzard blowing many inches of snow.
If they could
watch the blizzard they might
see the white snow whirling around in the wind
and feel it turning and twisting as it
crashes against the outside of the tunnels and houses.
The lights help the elves wake up early and
feel cheerful and excited about their days work.
After they have a nice healthy breakfast
they set off to the work shop singing with excitement,
wondering what things they will learn to do in the workshop today.
Each year they learn new skills, and get to try new things.
They practice each new skill putting them together,
coming up with new and interesting discoveries.
They know learning can be very exciting for all of them.
Santa is pleased at their discoveries and inventions because he knows that they are creative thoughtful about the children the toys are for.
The kindergarden elves, the youngest ones that get to go to work at the shop, don't work the whole day. Mostly they just watch the bigger elves do things, learning about shapes and colors and the way things work. As they grow they might like to feel the new toys come from the noisy saw room. Buzz and the bigger elves who run the saws cut out many interesting shapes of trucks, animals and blocks to build with. The clunk and thud of wooden pieces on the conveyer belt tell the elves the pieces are moving along to the next station to be where more work will be done.
The youngest elves like to use sand paper on the new wooden cut outs. They can
feel the roughness of the sandpaper in their hands
against their fingers as they rub the newly cut wood until it is smooth.
They smell the aroma of the newly cut wood parading from the saw on the conveyer belt. Each small elf might choose a new piece to sand smooth. At first the pieces may have slivers or rough edges. The elves sand and sand until the wood feels just as smooth and soft as velvet or rose petals.
They watch the older elves mix the paint from four paint pots, red, yellow, blue and white, making all the different colors. They are amazed that all colors come from just those three colors, and the white makes the shades lighter and brighter. The painters have worked a long time to know just how much of each color to use. They can mix any color. They make so many colors to use making the toys beautiful and colorful.
Smaller elves begin to experiment with paint. First they make mistakes, but they already know that is OK. They ask for help and they listen for advice and directions. They spend time watching how it is done and thinking about what they see. And when they begin to paint, they don't expect to be perfect. They know painting takes a lot of practice to get the colors and the lines just right. They know even their first attempts are important. Santa thinks their work is valuable. If they make mistakes they know they can fix them or that someone else can help fix the mistakes. Elves know the only way to learn new things is by trying and being able to be comfortable doing it poorly at first. They learn to be patient with themselves to correct mistakes. They know they can practice correct skills as they become better and better.
Not all the elves do all the jobs. They might try each job for a while to decide if that is something they like to do or think they will be able to bet very good at. Different elves have different talents, different skills and like different things.
As they get older they start to specialize, choosing the skills they enjoy doing the most. They know they have tried out many jobs and can choose which ones they will enjoy and learn to do well.
At the end of the work day, the elves return to Santa's house to visit and enjoy games. They tell stories of the things they learned from each other and the new skills they practiced. Santa is proud and happy for each of them as they develop their own special talents and abilities and become part of his great team making special gifts and toys for special boys and girls all over the world.
For information on copies please contact:
Growing Together Counseling and Education
801 224 3001 http://www.GrowingTogetherCounseling.com
Santa's Elves;
Way far away at the north pole
where Santa Clause lives with his elves,
the weather is very cold, and the days are very short.
The sun doesn't come up until late in the morning
and sets early in the afternoon,
leaving the world dark and cold.
Sometimes it is really hard for the little elves to
get up and get going when it is still cold and dark
but they know that they need to
go to work each day in order to make all the toys
needed by boys and girls around the world for Christmas.
Santa does all he can to make mornings pleasant for the little elves.
He strings brightly colored lights all over their tiny houses and along the paths through the long tunnels of snow which connect their houses to their work shop. They have tunnels through the snow to block the cold winds and cold temperatures. The elves can feel warmer and feel safe
as they go to work every day.
The elves all have warm clothes to wear: shirts and sweaters and heavy soft coats they can wear over all their warm clothes. On top of their warm socks they put on shoes and then heavy, heavy boots, which make them waddle around on their way to work. They can all feel safe and protected from the blizzard blowing many inches of snow.
If they could
watch the blizzard they might
see the white snow whirling around in the wind
and feel it turning and twisting as it
crashes against the outside of the tunnels and houses.
The lights help the elves wake up early and
feel cheerful and excited about their days work.
After they have a nice healthy breakfast
they set off to the work shop singing with excitement,
wondering what things they will learn to do in the workshop today.
Each year they learn new skills, and get to try new things.
They practice each new skill putting them together,
coming up with new and interesting discoveries.
They know learning can be very exciting for all of them.
Santa is pleased at their discoveries and inventions because he knows that they are creative thoughtful about the children the toys are for.
The kindergarden elves, the youngest ones that get to go to work at the shop, don't work the whole day. Mostly they just watch the bigger elves do things, learning about shapes and colors and the way things work. As they grow they might like to feel the new toys come from the noisy saw room. Buzz and the bigger elves who run the saws cut out many interesting shapes of trucks, animals and blocks to build with. The clunk and thud of wooden pieces on the conveyer belt tell the elves the pieces are moving along to the next station to be where more work will be done.
The youngest elves like to use sand paper on the new wooden cut outs. They can
feel the roughness of the sandpaper in their hands
against their fingers as they rub the newly cut wood until it is smooth.
They smell the aroma of the newly cut wood parading from the saw on the conveyer belt. Each small elf might choose a new piece to sand smooth. At first the pieces may have slivers or rough edges. The elves sand and sand until the wood feels just as smooth and soft as velvet or rose petals.
They watch the older elves mix the paint from four paint pots, red, yellow, blue and white, making all the different colors. They are amazed that all colors come from just those three colors, and the white makes the shades lighter and brighter. The painters have worked a long time to know just how much of each color to use. They can mix any color. They make so many colors to use making the toys beautiful and colorful.
Smaller elves begin to experiment with paint. First they make mistakes, but they already know that is OK. They ask for help and they listen for advice and directions. They spend time watching how it is done and thinking about what they see. And when they begin to paint, they don't expect to be perfect. They know painting takes a lot of practice to get the colors and the lines just right. They know even their first attempts are important. Santa thinks their work is valuable. If they make mistakes they know they can fix them or that someone else can help fix the mistakes. Elves know the only way to learn new things is by trying and being able to be comfortable doing it poorly at first. They learn to be patient with themselves to correct mistakes. They know they can practice correct skills as they become better and better.
Not all the elves do all the jobs. They might try each job for a while to decide if that is something they like to do or think they will be able to bet very good at. Different elves have different talents, different skills and like different things.
As they get older they start to specialize, choosing the skills they enjoy doing the most. They know they have tried out many jobs and can choose which ones they will enjoy and learn to do well.
At the end of the work day, the elves return to Santa's house to visit and enjoy games. They tell stories of the things they learned from each other and the new skills they practiced. Santa is proud and happy for each of them as they develop their own special talents and abilities and become part of his great team making special gifts and toys for special boys and girls all over the world.
A story for telling, not reading
An RET approach to Manners (Middle school or older)
Santa’s Elves Choosing to practice and develop unique skills (pre-school - 4th grade
Sometimes I get so sad Self talk that leads to sadness and depression (pre-school - 4th grade
Choices Choosing thoughts (NLP imbedded commands)
A story for telling, not reading to any age
JAYBIRDS
The Wizard Five positive face strokes for making friends (a play) grade 3-6
Use as reader’s theatre
The next two stories are written in Neuro Linguistic Programming style (NLP) They are meant to be told, not read, and the wording is just suggestions to use. In NLP it is best to stay in the present tense and use “you” so at times the grammar gets a little strange. The underlined phrases are called “imbedded commands” and are suggestions made to the listener to relax and imagine, using all five senses. A story within a story creates a slight bit of confusion which relaxes the barriers to imagination and assists the listener in letting go of rigid thinking and allowing his imagination to take over. Choose phrases from this story to include in other stories after a very active activity or in teaching relaxation thoughts to children. Using your hands along with the story increases the attention of the children and speeds up the relaxation mode.
Choices Choosing thoughts (NLP imbedded commands)
A story for telling, not reading
JAYBIRDS
Santa’s Elves Choosing to practice and develop unique skills (pre-school - 4th grade
Sometimes I get so sad Self talk that leads to sadness and depression (pre-school - 4th grade
Choices Choosing thoughts (NLP imbedded commands)
A story for telling, not reading to any age
JAYBIRDS
The Wizard Five positive face strokes for making friends (a play) grade 3-6
Use as reader’s theatre
The next two stories are written in Neuro Linguistic Programming style (NLP) They are meant to be told, not read, and the wording is just suggestions to use. In NLP it is best to stay in the present tense and use “you” so at times the grammar gets a little strange. The underlined phrases are called “imbedded commands” and are suggestions made to the listener to relax and imagine, using all five senses. A story within a story creates a slight bit of confusion which relaxes the barriers to imagination and assists the listener in letting go of rigid thinking and allowing his imagination to take over. Choose phrases from this story to include in other stories after a very active activity or in teaching relaxation thoughts to children. Using your hands along with the story increases the attention of the children and speeds up the relaxation mode.
Choices Choosing thoughts (NLP imbedded commands)
A story for telling, not reading
JAYBIRDS
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