By Kris Deva North
She came in under a black cloud, the world on her shoulders. With reason, I thought, hearing her story.
‘My sister hanged herself.’ Sometimes the right response is no response. I waited, watching her body-language.
‘In my apartment.’ I strained to hear her murmur. It was as if she were alone in the room, talking with herself, oblivious to me, to the tinkle of wind-chimes outside the window, to the chair in which her tall body hunched. I could have paced her, but chose to be still.
‘She left a note.’ Iron-gray hair drooped around her face. The words spilled like tear-drops from a red-rimmed eye. An open box of tissues lay ignored, on the small table beside her.
‘Blaming our mother.’
Silence. She seemed to go even deeper inside herself, to a place not good. I felt I could see, with her, the picture in her mind, arriving home from her work at a local government office, opening her apartment door, sensing a strange dark atmosphere, chills running up her spine as the hair rose at her nape, the strangeness of an Abba song playing in a room where she knew she had switched everything off. Her sister had keys. Perhaps she was here, waiting to tell again how her life was in ruins, how their mother had dealt her a losing card at birth. She was here. In the bedroom. Hanging.
I said, ‘Dolores?’ She looked up.
‘How can I help you?’
She replied in a voice of despair, ‘I want to be happy.’
I felt a sense of relief that she did actually want something. Well, of course, she must have wanted something to have made the appointment.
‘You want to be happy. That’s a perfectly normal want, isn’t it.’
Now she looked at me. ‘I guess.’
‘What makes you happy, Dolores?’
Her eyes went down again. ‘I don’t know. I’ve never been happy.’
Meta. ‘You have never been happy? Never?’
She shook her head. I thought it might be too smartass to ask why she wanted something she’d never known. Many people, including clients, have mentioned a desire for happiness. The pursuit of it is an inalienable right, but whose definition? So we can each decide for ourselves. What was Dolores’s vision? Did she have a vision?
‘What do you like to do, Dolly?’
She sat up straighter. ‘I like to walk on the beach.’
Ah! Familiar territory. My mind looped back to Practitioner Training with Richard, John and Paul, and a song from my youth, ‘Lots of sand and sea and sun.’ I remembered the varieties of beach in our group, warm breezes, swaying palms, nights under the stars, down by the shore an orchestra playing – but not for those who wanted the quiet of nature. Some visualised playing with their dogs, throwing balls into the waves – but not for those who could not abide the boisterous creatures shaking spray and wet-dog-smell everywhere. Some loving the sound of kids playing – but not for others. As many beaches as ways of breaking state – but all warm and sunny. Mine was white sand, rolling waves, hot sun, my annual search for the best, from Australia to the Andamans, Brazil to Hawaii, Kenya to Thailand
I was thinking about a nice gentle induction into a beautiful, peaceful, warm sunkissed beach where Dolores could fulfil her desire for happiness. Something made me hesitate. There was a new look in her eyes, almost a fierce look. Not sad. Not peaceful.
‘What kind of beach do you like to walk on?’
‘Gusts of cold fresh wind, salty and clean. Crunching pebbles underfoot. Crashing waves flinging spray to sting my skin, wake me up, make me feel…alive!’
She stood up. ‘Thank you!’ she said, gave me a brisk handshake, and marched out to her future, aura bright, world at her feet.
© Kris Deva North 2013
first published in NLP newsletter 1st March 2013
Kris Deva North is a Licensed Trainer in London, England.
He is running an 8-day Certified Practitioner Training April 5th thru 13th 2013 and 8-day Master-Practitioner Training April 19th thru 26th.
Kris is giving a Talk and Demonstration on Friday March 29th at the Healing NLP Institute, 68 Great Eastern Street, London EC2A 3JT.
Learn more at http://www.healingnlp.com
Contact Kris: krisdevanorth@gmail.com
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