Richard Bandler - Frogs into Princes: Neuro Linguistic Programming Страница 9

Woman: I know I put the dog there.

How do you know that?

Woman: Because I can remember what I did.

OK, how do you remember putting the dog there? Is that a visual process? Do you talk to yourself? OK. Now I want you to do that same process for putting the chair there. I want you to put the chair here, even though it's already here. I want you to go through the same process you used to put the dog here to put the chair here and then tell me what, if any, difference there is.

Does anybody know the point of all this?

Woman: We're all schizophrenic.

Of course we're all schizophrenic. In fact, R. D. Laing is far too conservative when he talks about schizophrenia being a natural response. Evolutionarily the next step, which we're all engaged in, is multiple personality. You're all multiple personalities. There are only two differences between you and an officially diagnosed multiple personality: (1) the fact that you don't have to have amnesia for how you are behaving in one context; you can remember it in another context, (2) you can choose how to respond contextually. Whenever you don't have a choice about how you respond in context, you are a robot. So you have two choices. You can be a multiple personality or a robot. Choose well.

The point that we're trying to make that the difference between somebody who doesn't know their hallucination is a hallucination and yourselves is only that you have developed some strategy by which you know what is shared reality and what is not. And if you are going to have hallucinations, you probably have them about ideas instead of about things.

If one of you in the audience said "Well, wait a minute, there really is a dog there, anybody can see that!" then probably one of the other people in this room would take you away.

Now, when Sally used the word "pensive" earlier, she was hallucinating with exactly the same formal process that a schizophrenic does. For example, there was a mental patient who looked at us and said "Did you just see me drink a cup of blood?" He was doing exactly the same thing. He was taking input from the outside, combining it in an interesting way with a response he was making internally, and then assuming it all came from the outside.

There are only two distinctions between anybody in this room and an institutionalized schizophrenic: (1) whether you have a good reality strategy and you can make that distinction, and (2) whether the content of your hallucination is socially acceptable or not. Because you all hallucinate. You all hallucinate that somebody's in a good mood or a bad mood, for example. Sometimes it really is an accurate representation of what you are getting from the outside, but sometimes it's a response to your own internal state.

And if it's not there, sometimes you can induce it. "Is something wrong?" "What's bothering you?" "Now I don't want you to worry about anything that happened today while you were gone."

Drinking blood in this culture is not acceptable. I've lived in cultures where that's fine. The Masai, in Eastern Africa, sit around and drink cups of blood all the time. No problem. It would be weird in their culture for somebody to say "I can see that you are feeling very bad about what I just said." They would begin to wonder about you. But in this culture it's reversed.

When we trained residents in mental hospitals we used to go up early and spend time in the wards because the patients there had problems we never had the opportunity to encounter before. We would give them the task of determining for themselves which parts of their experience were validated by other people, and which were not. For instance, with the cup-of-blood guy, we immediately joined his reality. "Yeah, warm this one up for me, will you?" We joined his reality so much that he came to trust us. And then we gave him the task of discovering which parts of his reality other people in the ward could validate for him. We didn't say this was really here and that wasn't, but simply asked him to determine which parts of his reality other people could share. And then he learned—as most of us have as children—to talk about those parts of reality which are either socially acceptable hallucinations, or that other people are willing to see and hear and feel, too. That's all he needed to get out of the hospital. He's doing fine. He still drinks cups of blood, but he does it by himself. Most psychotics just don't have a way of making distinctions between what's shared reality and what's not.

Man: Many psychiatrists do not have that, when working with those people.

Many do not have it, period, as far as I can tell! The only difference is that they have other psychiatrists that share that reality, so they at least have a shared reality. I've made lots of jokes about the way humanistic psychologists treat each other when they get together. They have many social rituals that did not exist when I worked at an electronics corporation. The corporation people didn't come in in the morning and hold each other's hands and look meaningfully into each other's eyes for five and a half minutes. Now, when somebody at the corporation sees somebody do that, they go "Urrrrhhh! Weird!" And the people in humanistic psychology circles think the corporation people are cold and insensitive and inhuman. To me, they are both psychotic realities, and I'm not sure which one is crazier. And if you think about shared realities, the corporation people are in the majority.

Where you really have a choice is when you can go from one reality to the other, and you can have a perspective on what's going on. One of the craziest things is when a humanistic psychologist goes to teach a seminar at a corporation and doesn't alter his behavior. That inability to adjust to a different shared reality is a demonstration of psychosis as far as I'm concerned.

Therapists feel letters. I don't think that's any more peculiar than drinking cups of blood. Everywhere I go, people tell me they feel 0 and K. That's pretty weird. Or you ask people "How do you feel?" and they say "Not bad." Think about that for a moment. That's a very profound statement. "I feel not bad." That's not a feeling. Neither is "OK."

One of the most powerful tools that I think is useful for you to have as professional communicators is to make the distinction between perception and hallucination. If you can clearly distinguish what portion of your ongoing experience you are creating internally and putting out there, as opposed to what you are actually receiving through your sensory apparatus, you will not hallucinate when it's not useful. Actually there is nothing that you need to hallucinate about. There is no outcome in therapy for which hallucinations are necessary. You can stay strictly with sensory experience and be very powerful, effective, efficient, and creative.

You need only three things to be an absolutely exquisite communicator. We have found that there are three major patterns in the behavior of every therapeutic wizard we've talked to—and executives, and salespeople. The first one is to know what outcome you want. The second is that you need flexibility in your behavior. You need to be able to generate lots and lots of different behaviors to find out what responses you get. The third is you need to have enough sensory experience to notice when you get the responses that you want. If you have those three abilities, then you can just alter your behavior until you get the responses that you want.

That's what we're doing here. We know what outcomes we want, and we put ourselves into what we call "uptime," in which we're completely in sensory experience and have no consciousness at all. We aren't aware of our internal feelings, pictures, voices, or anything else internal. We are in sensory experience in relationship to you and noticing how you respond to us. We keep changing our behavior until you respond the way we want you to.

Right now I know what I'm saying because I'm listening to myself externally. I know how much sense you're making of what I'm saying by your responses to it, both conscious and unconscious. I am seeing those. I'm not commenting on them internally, simply noticing them and adjusting my behavior. I have no idea what I feel like internally. I have tactile kinesthetic awareness. I can feel my hand on my jacket, for instance. It's a particular altered state. It's one trance out of many, and a useful one for leading groups.

Woman: How do you adjust yourself in uptime? You said you keep adjusting until you get the response you want. What adjustments are you making? Do you explain more? Or talk more? Or...

Well, I adjust all the possible parameters. The most obvious one to me is voice tone. You can adjust your facial expression, too. Sometimes you can say the same words and lift your eyebrows and people will suddenly understand. Sometimes you can begin to move your hands. With some people, you can draw a picture. Sometimes I can just explain the same thing over again with a different set of words. Those are some of the logical possibilities that are available. There are lots and lots of possibilities.

Woman: Well, as you're changing your behavior, don't you have to be somewhat aware of what's going on inside you?

No. I think most people try to do it reflexively, with conscious self-awareness, and most of the strategies of reflexive consciousness don't work. That's why most people have such crummy personal relationships. If I want you to act a certain way, and I make you the reference for what I'm doing, then all I have to do is keep acting differently until you look and sound and behave the way I want you to. If I have to check with myself to find out, then I'm going to be paying attention to my feelings and my internal voices, which isn't going to tell me whether I'm getting what I want. Most therapists succeed with their clients a dozen times before they notice it.

Woman: OK. I can see how that would work in therapy, being a therapist. But in an intimate relationship it seems like being in uptime wouldn't be as intimate.

Oh, I disagree. I think it would be much more intimate that way. I don't think intimacy is built on talking to yourself and making pictures internally. I think intimacy is built on eliciting responses. If I'm in uptime when I'm interacting with somebody, then I'm going to be able to elicit responses from them which are pleasurable, and intimate, and anything else I want.

Woman: If I'm talking to someone about something that I'm feeling and thinking is important to me, then I wouldn't be in uptime, would I?

If that is your definition of intimacy, then we have different definitions of intimacy!

Woman: I'm saying that it's part of being intimate; that's one way of being intimate.

OK. I disagree with that.

Woman: How can you do that if you're in uptime?

You can't do that when you're in uptime. You can talk about things that you have thought and felt at other times but then you wouldn't be in uptime. I agree that uptime would be a poor strategy for talking about internal states, but I don't happen to consider that intimacy. For your description, uptime is not a good strategy. Uptime is the only one I know which is a generally effective strategy to interact with people in terms of getting responses.

For what you're talking about, I would design a completely different strategy, because you're going to have to know what you're thinking and feeling in order to talk about it. But I don't think that will produce connectedness with another human being. Because if you do that you're not paying attention to them, you're only paying attention to yourself. I'm not saying that it's bad, I'm just saying that it's not going to make you feel more connected with someone else. You're not going to have more contact with the woman sitting next to you if you're inside making pictures and talking to yourself and having feelings, and then telling her about them. That's not going to put you in contact with her. All that's going to do is tell her conscious mind a lot about what's going on inside you when you're not paying attention to her.

I have an attorney who has a great strategy for solving legal problems. He first has a visual construction in his head of what problem has to be solved. Next, in outline, he goes auditory internal A and checks with a visual eidetic A, auditory internal B and checks with visual eidetic B, and so on, until all of his auditory and visual eidetics add up to that visual construction. Then he knows that he's got that problem solved. It's a super strategy for legal problems, but it's a terrible strategy for personal relationships, and he uses it for that, too. He will make a picture of how he wants to interact with somebody, and then try to find pictures of when he's done it before. He can never do anything new with anyone unless he's already done all the component pieces before. It's just not a terribly good strategy for that task. And while he's using that strategy, he's gone—he isn't there at all!

Recently on TV, a psychologist was instructing people about how to have better communication. In essence, she was saying "Make a picture of the way you want to be, and then behave that way." But there was nothing in it about noticing feedback from other people. She had all these cardboard people standing next to her who were her students, going "Yes! We are very happy and we can communicate. And it is so nice to meet you, yes!" They didn't even know whether they shook hands or not. They had no contact at all, because they were inside making pictures. They all had smiles on their faces, so maybe they were happy, but it's not a very good strategy to communicate.

We once ate lunch with a retired army colonel who decided that he was going to become a communicator. He has two strategies. One is to give commands, and the other is designed to get agreement. Neither strategy has anything to do with gathering information; his entire strategy just simply ends when there is agreement. So no matter what he says, if you say "I agree with you," he can't function anymore. He's the kind of person whom you would never naturally agree with about anything, no matter what he said, because he's got a voice tone that gets you to respond negatively.

When we sat down, everyone went crazy, because they kept saying "Well, I wouldn't put it quite that way," and getting into arguments with him. Finally I stopped them all, and Leslie and I said in unison We agree with you." Whatever he said, we'd say "We agree with you." when we did that, he couldn't generate any behavior! He ceased to function. He would sit there quietly for ten or fifteen minutes, until he would take issue with something that the rest of us were talking about.

We would simply say "We agree with you" and he was gone again. His strategy to decide what he wanted on the menu was to get everyone to have anything off the menu. His strategy was not designed to get food that would please his palate; it was designed to get other people to have the same thing that he had. I guess that's a good strategy for a colonel in the Army. But it's a lousy strategy to get something good in a restaurant, or to pick a restaurant, or to have friends, which is something he didn't have.

Having total sensory experience is a life-long project, and there isn't any limitation to it as far as I know. I now see things, hear things and get information tactually that two years ago would have seemed like ESP to me. That's a statement about my willingness to commit some time and energy to training myself to refine the distinctions I make between internal and external realities, the refinements I can make in every sensory channel, and in every internal representational system.