Steve Andreas - Help with Negative Self–talk Volume I

The client is told to choose the "smallest, most minimal" thing to do, in order to make the task appear easy to do, avoiding any residual objection or resistance. However, it really doesn't matter how small the task is, it will still create the connection between the "small thing" done, and recovery. If a smile is an indication of happiness, it doesn't matter how small or brief it is.

Since the client does this over a period of weeks, and each morning they have to choose a different smallest thing that they would do if they had recovered, each

day they will have to choose a somewhat larger thing to do from those remaining ones that they have thought of.

If the client enlarges the list by including additional "smaller" things that would indicate recovery, that means that they will think of the solution even more often as they review this larger category of things in order to choose the "smallest" one. And if they are at all oppositional or rebellious, they may decide to do one of the "larger" things, giving them an opportunity to resist a small element, while still complying with the overall task. If they do a "larger" thing, that will be even better evidence for the implication that they have recovered.

Furthermore, since each morning the client does something different in the category "what I would do if I had recovered," soon there will be a group of things that they have already done that indicate that they have recovered. That group of experiences will become larger and more compelling each day, providing more and stronger evidence for having recovered as time goes by.

Thinking of the actions that indicate recovery and doing one of them each day will also sensitize them to when they do these actions spontaneously during the day. For instance, if smiling or laughing are two of the behaviors, and they find themselves smiling or laughing sometime during the day, they will tend to notice that they have spontaneously smiled or laughed, instead of ignoring it. A spontaneous response is even better evidence that they are recovering than a deliberate action.

And if they refuse to do the task, they will probably still think of it every morning, perhaps even more than if they did it. Even thinking of the task will sensitize them to all the behaviors that would indicate that they have recovered from their problem. This inner rehearsal will make it more likely that they will do one (or more) of the behaviors, and will also make it more likely that they will notice them when they occur spontaneously.

This instruction is a beautiful example of how to pack a host of implications and presuppositions into a task, most of which will be completely outside the client's awareness. This instruction will work just as well when you understand its structure, and you can also give the instructions to yourself, rather than being told by someone else.

The instructions can be made more generative by rewording them so that it is not about a problem, but about a positive outcome that would expand your resourcefulness, creativity, enjoyment, etc. Pick some positive outcome or change that you would like to make, and then ask yourself "What would I do differently today if I had my outcome?"

For instance, let's say your outcome is to have a better relationship with your partner. Each morning, think about all the things that you would do if that were already true? Would you speak in a softer tone of voice? Would you listen longer,

even when what they are saying isn't that interesting to you, or you have heard it many times before? Would you touch them gently when you ask for something? Would you think more often about their desires, or what they would find enjoyable? Pause now to pick a positive outcome, and a number of things that you would do if it were already achieved… .

Each day, choose the smallest of the things that you think of, and actually do it. Each day choose a different thing to do. You will soon find out what a useful and effective task it is.

Nardone and Portelli developed their intervention out of a theoretical and practical orientation that can generally be described as a "strategic approach," which is significantly different from NLP. Although they don't have NLP background, their instructions include a number of fundamental NLP principles, while missing some others.

The first and most obvious missing piece is the lack of an explicit process to develop a well–formed outcome, in order to make sure that the outcome will actually accomplish what you want. I will describe a detailed process for doing this in chapter 9, pp. 82–91.

The other major omission is the lack of any explicit congruence check to be sure that reaching the outcome will preserve the person's other desired outcomes, what is usually termed "ecology." Even a simple question like, "Does any part of you have any objection to doing any of these things?" would begin to explore how a proposed solution could have drawbacks or problems that would block or impede reaching it.

Nardone and Portelli have successfully used this pattern with a variety of eating disorders, obsessions and compulsions, and depression — all significant problems that are often quite difficult to treat. In all of those problems, the behaviors are pretty commonplace, so I think it is unlikely that someone would set an outcome that would cause serious problems.

However, if this intervention were to be applied to an outcome like flying an airplane, or gaining some other skill that could put the person or someone else in danger, ecology could become a serious issue; hopefully this would be taken care of in a careful outcome specification process that preceded giving the instruction.

This intervention is a very general one, with wide applicability ("any problem"), so of course there is a corresponding lack of precision. Some fundamental interventions like rapport, or a solution focus, are a useful part of resolving a wide variety of problems. More specific and detailed interventions will usually be much more effective with some problems or outcomes, and much less effective with others that have a different structure.

My favorite example of this is that a phobia has the exact opposite structure from grief. In a phobia someone fully steps into and re–experiences a very unpleasant memory, while in grief, someone steps outof a very pleasant memory. If someone were to try to use the phobia cure on grief (or the grief process on a phobia) it would make the problem worse, not better. That is why my preference is to use very specific and detailed interventions that are precisely designed to do exactly what the client wants — or needs, which is not always the same! As NLP develops more and more detailed specific patterns for specific problems or outcomes, this becomes even more true.

However, any process that works is worth learning, and the instruction above is a wonderful example. One of its great advantages is that the instruction is complete in itself, and does not require any special skills on the part of the person using it. The process can even be given in written form, as I have done here, so that someone can try it on their own.

In this chapter we have reviewed some additional ways to add a voice to your experience in order to make a useful change. Next I want to explore a number of very important aspects of the words that we use to describe our experience.

Troublesome voices have many different aspects. Usually they describe events or ourselves in ways that make us feel bad. However they can do this in a variety of ways, with varying impact. Among them are generalizations, evaluations, and presuppositions.

Words are one of the primary ways that we generalize about our experience, a very useful skill. When someone uses the word "chair" we know immediately that is something that we can sit on.

However, this skill also has some very serious drawbacks. For instance, notice what specific image comes to your mind when you read the word "chair" in the previous sentence. What kind of chair is it? What does it look like? What shape is it, what color is it, what is it made of, etc… .

Do you suppose that your chair looks the same as the one that I had in mind when I wrote the previous paragraph? Mine was a hotel meeting room chair, with shiny chromium metal legs and frame, and some gray–blue coarse cloth upholstery.

Yours was probably different from mine in a number of ways. Often we think of a somewhat "generic" chair, perhaps a wooden dinner chair, or some other common type of chair that you might find in a home. Or you might have thought of a

particular chair that is special to you in some way, perhaps a favorite chair. You probably didn't think of a lawn chair, a throne, or an antique chair.

When we use a single word like "chair" to describe a wide range of things that we can sit on, that is a very useful way to organize our experience, and communicate at least a semblance of our experience to someone else. We know that something described with that word "chair" can be used in a certain way, roughly what size it is, and something about what it is made of, how long it is likely to last, etc. For contrast, compare your image of the word "chair" with your image of the word "cloud," or "mountain," and you can begin to notice how much information a single image can contain.

When we identify several different objects as a "chair" we tend to think of what a chair can be used for, and ignore all the differences between individual chairs. And we also do something else; we tend to forget that a chair can be used for many other purposes than sitting — to block a door, to impress the neighbors, to fend off a snarling dog, feed a fire in an emergency, etc. In many areas of our lives this only occasionally causes some misunderstanding. You may offer to give me a chair, and I accept, thinking of an ordinary chair. But when you arrive with your museum piece chair, I realize that it wouldn't fit in with any of the other furniture that I have.

The image that comes to your mind when you understand a word is called a prototype by cognitive linguists. (17) When we read or hear or see a word like "chair," we use our prototype to represent all the objects that could be described as a "chair," and then respond to this prototype image. This usually is not a significant problem when we are thinking of a chair, or some other physical object, though it can be. For instance, if someone offers me a "drink," I may accept, thinking of water, while my host may have alcohol, strong coffee, or something else very different "in mind."

This kind of misunderstanding is often much more problematic when we describe events that are judgments about each other or ourselves. For instance, when we describe what someone just said about us as a "criticism" that word — just like the word "chair" — can describe and evoke a multitude of experiences that we have had throughout a long period of time, and in a wide range of situations. What image will we use as a prototype to represent the meaning of that word?

Often we will use an emotionally charged memory of what someone said when they criticized us in the past. If we do, then we will respond to that image, rather than to the present event. Another way of responding to someone's else's "criticism" is to internally hear a loud chorus of many "criticisms" that we have experienced over a period of years. The present event might be a very small criticism about how we did the dishes. But our emotional response may seem "all out of proportion" to others unless they realize that we are responding to internal images from our past.