One of the presuppositions of NLP is the Law of Requisite Variety, which is a fancy way of saying that more choices are better than few choices. If you're stuck, it may be because you're... well, stuck. You need more choices.
If you have two choices, that's better than one, but you may still feel stuck. To reach a comfortable sense of flexibility and freedom, you'll want to have at least three.
What are some ways to find new choices?
NLP has a model called logical levels you can use to explore any situation in which you need more choices. Making change at any level can affect the whole system.
Level 1: Environment. Environment is everything around you. Nothing occurs in a vacuum. Becoming aware of the environment may seem extremely basic. Why bother?
The more familiar you are with the environment, the more habituated you become.
Have you ever had a clock that chimed every hour? How long did it take before you no longer noticed it? Or have you ever taped a reminder to your computer, refrigerator, or mirror, and over time forgotten to look at it so that it became "invisible"? Take a moment to quiet your mind, ask some questions, and explore this first, most basic level.
What's the context of the challenge? Where does it occur? (If your answer is, "EVERYWHERE!" choose one specific example and start there.) Is it confined to home or office? Certain locations? Who are the people involved? What time does it occur? Mornings? Afternoons? Evenings? Weekdays or weekends? What do you notice about the surroundings? What sounds do you notice? Where are they coming from? What's the quality of light? Do you notice a lot of movement, or are things quiet? The more facets of the environment you can notice, the more options you'll have when it comes time to make the changes you desire.
Tuesday, August 07, 2007
Tuesday, July 31, 2007
Observations again
A recent kerfluffle on a couple of online communities (one of them focusing on conflict resolution -- HA!) have me musing once again on the concept of what are called "observations" in NVC and "clean sensory channels" in NLP.
It's amazing how much of our own self-talk we accept as coming from "out there." We know, without even thinking about it, when someone is angry, sad, puzzled, or delighted.
But those realizations are based on something. That something is sensory experience: information that comes in through our eyes, ears, skin, nose or mouth. You know the drill: sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste.
Most of this information comes in and is processed subconsciously. You don't typically notice or analyze, with your conscious mind, how you know what you know.
When you're in a struggle, either with another person or with yourself, this can lead to deepening conflict, rather than resolution.
Take a step back. Ask: What am I noticing? Is it something I see or hear? What conclusions am I coming to? Could I possibly come to different ones? (We'll explore that question in an upcoming blog entry on reframing.
This can be extremely difficult to do in a moment of upset; human brains and bodies react to emotional threats the same way they react to physical ones, and the flood of stress hormones creates obstacles to rational thinking. So if you've ever "lost your head" in anger, don't beat yourself up about it. Just know that you can take steps to keep your cool, and you can do it without squashing your emotions or denying what's bothering you. (Emotions feed you information about whether a situation is healthy or dangerous -- you don't want to cut yourself off from valuable information!)
Of course, it's best to practice on a daily basis, when stress is low or mild, to develop the mental and emotional muscles you want to come into play when you're in a situation where you really need them.
So: Do a check-in exercise. Set an alarm, or find a way to signal yourself, to stop periodically throughout your day. Do a body scan. Are you relaxed? Tense? Happy? How do you know? Which muscles are tight, and which relaxed? (Pay attention to your face muscles, too -- when you're relaxed, happy, worried, annoyed.) What's you're posture like? Scan your senses. What are you seeing, hearing, tasting, smelling, or taking in with your skin? (Many people focus on texture, but don't ignore pressure and temperature.) Lastly, what sort of internal dialog have you been running since your last check-in? What have you been telling yourself about what things mean?
The point of this exercise is to practice separating sensory awareness and internal dialog. If you did this all the time, you'd never get anything done, because you'd be paying attention -- consciously -- to the way the light hits the water cooler, the cooler's proximity to other objects, the amount of dust or moisture that has collected on various surfaces of the cooler, the amount of pressure you need to use to press the dispenser bar, the sight of the water level rising, how the cup and water and breath smell and the texture of the cup and water on your lips... you get it, right? All this normally happens in 15 or 20 seconds, and you're oblivious, thinking about the work you did or haven't done or the questionable dating choices your kid is making or your lunch forgotten on the counter at home or whether you need to get any last-minute groceries for dinner...
Learning to notice the boundaries between sensory experience and internal experience can boost your ability to shift between the two, so the next time you're about to accuse someone (maybe yourself) of something you'll regret, you can more easily switch gears to a more productive and resourceful solution.
It's amazing how much of our own self-talk we accept as coming from "out there." We know, without even thinking about it, when someone is angry, sad, puzzled, or delighted.
But those realizations are based on something. That something is sensory experience: information that comes in through our eyes, ears, skin, nose or mouth. You know the drill: sight, sound, touch, smell, and taste.
Most of this information comes in and is processed subconsciously. You don't typically notice or analyze, with your conscious mind, how you know what you know.
When you're in a struggle, either with another person or with yourself, this can lead to deepening conflict, rather than resolution.
Take a step back. Ask: What am I noticing? Is it something I see or hear? What conclusions am I coming to? Could I possibly come to different ones? (We'll explore that question in an upcoming blog entry on reframing.
This can be extremely difficult to do in a moment of upset; human brains and bodies react to emotional threats the same way they react to physical ones, and the flood of stress hormones creates obstacles to rational thinking. So if you've ever "lost your head" in anger, don't beat yourself up about it. Just know that you can take steps to keep your cool, and you can do it without squashing your emotions or denying what's bothering you. (Emotions feed you information about whether a situation is healthy or dangerous -- you don't want to cut yourself off from valuable information!)
Of course, it's best to practice on a daily basis, when stress is low or mild, to develop the mental and emotional muscles you want to come into play when you're in a situation where you really need them.
So: Do a check-in exercise. Set an alarm, or find a way to signal yourself, to stop periodically throughout your day. Do a body scan. Are you relaxed? Tense? Happy? How do you know? Which muscles are tight, and which relaxed? (Pay attention to your face muscles, too -- when you're relaxed, happy, worried, annoyed.) What's you're posture like? Scan your senses. What are you seeing, hearing, tasting, smelling, or taking in with your skin? (Many people focus on texture, but don't ignore pressure and temperature.) Lastly, what sort of internal dialog have you been running since your last check-in? What have you been telling yourself about what things mean?
The point of this exercise is to practice separating sensory awareness and internal dialog. If you did this all the time, you'd never get anything done, because you'd be paying attention -- consciously -- to the way the light hits the water cooler, the cooler's proximity to other objects, the amount of dust or moisture that has collected on various surfaces of the cooler, the amount of pressure you need to use to press the dispenser bar, the sight of the water level rising, how the cup and water and breath smell and the texture of the cup and water on your lips... you get it, right? All this normally happens in 15 or 20 seconds, and you're oblivious, thinking about the work you did or haven't done or the questionable dating choices your kid is making or your lunch forgotten on the counter at home or whether you need to get any last-minute groceries for dinner...
Learning to notice the boundaries between sensory experience and internal experience can boost your ability to shift between the two, so the next time you're about to accuse someone (maybe yourself) of something you'll regret, you can more easily switch gears to a more productive and resourceful solution.
Tuesday, July 24, 2007
Book Review: Stumbling on Happiness
Daniel Gilbert's book ought to be required reading for every college freshman, and for everyone considering a major life change... or where to go for dinner.
Gilbert says we're astoundingly poor predictors of what will make us happy in the future. As we decide on career pursuits, marriages, restaurant reservations, transportation, and what to plant in the garden this spring, biology conspires to make life simple, and in doing so, thwarts many of our efforts even as the electricity whizzes toward those little light bulbs in our brains.
Happiness! Who doesn't want it? But what is it, really, and how do we get there? Are there standards we can use to measure? Is there a blueprint for having more happiness in our lives?
Well, yes and no. Gilbert's hilarious book runs us through the processes of perceiving where we are, predicting where we want to be, and all the pitfalls along the way. From magicians to man-on-the-street, Gilbert describes the way brains sense and organize the present, imagine what will come next (seconds from now or years later), and how we think we'll bridge the gap between the two. It's fascinating and funny stuff.
What makes us happy? Is one person's idea of happiness different from another's? How do we make comparisons between where we are and where we want to be? Although we spend our lives thinking about this stuff, Gilbert illustrates how we think we think is largely an illusion; the brain covering its tracks to save us time and trouble.
With amusing and compelling stories, Gilbert shines the laboratory light on everyday decisions and planning strategies, and yes: He even provides a formula for attaining happiness, which he claims most readers will never accept or use.
(But if you're reading this, you're not "most readers," are you?)
Gilbert says we're astoundingly poor predictors of what will make us happy in the future. As we decide on career pursuits, marriages, restaurant reservations, transportation, and what to plant in the garden this spring, biology conspires to make life simple, and in doing so, thwarts many of our efforts even as the electricity whizzes toward those little light bulbs in our brains.
Happiness! Who doesn't want it? But what is it, really, and how do we get there? Are there standards we can use to measure? Is there a blueprint for having more happiness in our lives?
Well, yes and no. Gilbert's hilarious book runs us through the processes of perceiving where we are, predicting where we want to be, and all the pitfalls along the way. From magicians to man-on-the-street, Gilbert describes the way brains sense and organize the present, imagine what will come next (seconds from now or years later), and how we think we'll bridge the gap between the two. It's fascinating and funny stuff.
What makes us happy? Is one person's idea of happiness different from another's? How do we make comparisons between where we are and where we want to be? Although we spend our lives thinking about this stuff, Gilbert illustrates how we think we think is largely an illusion; the brain covering its tracks to save us time and trouble.
With amusing and compelling stories, Gilbert shines the laboratory light on everyday decisions and planning strategies, and yes: He even provides a formula for attaining happiness, which he claims most readers will never accept or use.
(But if you're reading this, you're not "most readers," are you?)
Tuesday, July 17, 2007
Vision boards and the Portland Pen Show
I spent some of this past weekend at the Portland Pen Show, where fountain pen collectors from all over the country buy, sell, trade, and admire new releases by pen manufacturers and vintage models lovingly preserved or restored from the 1960s, '50, '40s and earlier.
When I began collecting fountain pens, I made a collage in Photoshop and put it on my computer desktop. The pens I wanted to purchase were there for me to look at every moment I was at my computer. All day long, I stared at those pens, imagining how each one would feel in my hand; what I would be writing; how others would look at them and at me.
According to some gurus who recommend vision boards, I should have some of those pens in my collection, right?
Well, I don't. Does that mean I did something wrong in my "vision board"?
No. I listened to feedback as I made my collection plans. After I created the vision board on my computer desktop, I learned that some of the pens I wanted weren't worth having. Some turned out to be too large and heavy for my hand. Others, although pretty to look at, had flaws that prevented the ink from flowing evenly. Nevertheless, I now have a fantastic collection of fountain pens that bring me a lot of joy.
Knowing your outcome is a terrific starting point. By making your goals visible, a vision board can help you stay focused and motivated. Make room for course corrections, though. Be willing to say, "This -- or something better!" By focusing too exclusively on one factor, rather than the big picture, I've missed opportunities.
Treasure your goals; stay flexible and alert.
When I began collecting fountain pens, I made a collage in Photoshop and put it on my computer desktop. The pens I wanted to purchase were there for me to look at every moment I was at my computer. All day long, I stared at those pens, imagining how each one would feel in my hand; what I would be writing; how others would look at them and at me.
According to some gurus who recommend vision boards, I should have some of those pens in my collection, right?
Well, I don't. Does that mean I did something wrong in my "vision board"?
No. I listened to feedback as I made my collection plans. After I created the vision board on my computer desktop, I learned that some of the pens I wanted weren't worth having. Some turned out to be too large and heavy for my hand. Others, although pretty to look at, had flaws that prevented the ink from flowing evenly. Nevertheless, I now have a fantastic collection of fountain pens that bring me a lot of joy.
Knowing your outcome is a terrific starting point. By making your goals visible, a vision board can help you stay focused and motivated. Make room for course corrections, though. Be willing to say, "This -- or something better!" By focusing too exclusively on one factor, rather than the big picture, I've missed opportunities.
Treasure your goals; stay flexible and alert.
Tuesday, June 19, 2007
The Princess Syndrome
I ran across Meanwhile's post about the Disney Princess Syndrome. It's not the first time I've heard of this. I remember when Beauty and the Beast came out, and an acquaintance's daughter wanted to wear her yellow Belle costume everywhere: to bed, to the mall, the playground, school; you name it. And when I was little, I remember fantasizing about being Cinderella. She had lots of talking mice for friends, and I thought that was cool. She also had a pearl necklace, and my parents had recently taken me to Sea World, which had an oyster tank, where you could choose an oyster, open it, and see if there was a pearl inside. I stood by that oyster tank as long as I could, staring at the mollusks and thinking about the time and patience it took to make pearls.
I don't know what attracts little girls to princesses. I liked the pearls, the mice, the puffy blue dress, the magic, and the idea of being significant and sought after, rather than taken for granted and shuffled off to play. I thought it took courage for Cinderella to say YES to the fairy godmother and go on an adventure. I suspected there were probably lots of girls who would pull the covers over their heads, scrunch their eyes closed and yell, "No! Go away! I'll work this out myself, in the real world, without your magic! No ratty footmen or pumpkin coaches for me!"
But I digress. Back to Meanwhile, and the sentence that caught my eye, about Mulan:
"The girl kicks ass, true, but in the original legend, she kicks ass long enough to become a general in the Chinese army, one of six top advisers to the Emperor, while in Disney's version she is found out and marries her commanding officer."
When I read that, I remembered Hillary Clinton once commenting about how she'd chosen to have a career instead of staying home and baking cookies. The comment outraged moms everywhere, who resented the Stepford implication that all moms sweetly smiled and twirled around the kitchen all day. And I wondered about Mulan. By marrying the commanding officer, she lets herself get squeezed into a subservient, traditional female role. In the original legend, however, she proves that women must act like men, play by men's rules, and meet male standards in order to be valued.
I don't find either alternative attractive. However... let's look at the language I've used: laden with interpretation and evaluations. Without my thoughts about what the actions mean:
1. Mulan marries her commanding officer.
2. Mulan becomes an advisor to the Emperor.
It's kind of scary to look at the bare, stripped-down actions, and to realize how much of my own stuff I import in order to make a value judgment about the actions.
Symbols typically associate to a single, dominant idea: Red; stop. Green; go. Fence; boundary. Egg; fertility. We react instantly to the symbol's obvious meaning. We can certainly probe symbols for layers -- most contain depth and complexity -- but exploring those meanings requires a deliberate choice to thoughtfully reflect beyond the knee-jerk assumptions.
When I impose a symbol on a human being, I think I automatically invite conflict. Sure, a person can fulfill many roles, but my own conscious attention has limits. When I hang a symbolic identity on someone -- mom, president, princess, hypnotist -- don't I flatten them out a little? Don't other parts of them become invisible? When I go to my insurance agent, do I think about whether he ate a bad egg at breakfast, if his car is low on gas, if he'll get to his daughter's music recital on time? No. All I see is his job, and I want him to get me the best rate.
Sad. Human, natural, and sad.
Also changeable. If I can notice what I'm doing and refocus my attention, I can see the person and loosen my evaluations and judgments.
So. Exercise:
1. Make a list of the different roles you play. What are the symbols people hang on you? Lover, breadwinner, shopper, board member, parent, driver. (Or maybe you want to list a few people in your life and their roles.)
2. What expectations do you have of someone in that role? What do you expect someone in that role to do or be? What expectations do others have of someone in that role?
3. Are any of these expectation ever in conflict? How do you feel when you review the lists?
4. ERASE THE ROLES. Scratch out every symbol. Get rid of those labels! Now, go through the list of expectations. Using Nonviolent Communication, look for the underlying needs. Translate the expectations into observation language using Nonviolent Communication. What actions or behaviors would express those expectations?
Do you notice a shift in your experience?
I don't know what attracts little girls to princesses. I liked the pearls, the mice, the puffy blue dress, the magic, and the idea of being significant and sought after, rather than taken for granted and shuffled off to play. I thought it took courage for Cinderella to say YES to the fairy godmother and go on an adventure. I suspected there were probably lots of girls who would pull the covers over their heads, scrunch their eyes closed and yell, "No! Go away! I'll work this out myself, in the real world, without your magic! No ratty footmen or pumpkin coaches for me!"
But I digress. Back to Meanwhile, and the sentence that caught my eye, about Mulan:
"The girl kicks ass, true, but in the original legend, she kicks ass long enough to become a general in the Chinese army, one of six top advisers to the Emperor, while in Disney's version she is found out and marries her commanding officer."
When I read that, I remembered Hillary Clinton once commenting about how she'd chosen to have a career instead of staying home and baking cookies. The comment outraged moms everywhere, who resented the Stepford implication that all moms sweetly smiled and twirled around the kitchen all day. And I wondered about Mulan. By marrying the commanding officer, she lets herself get squeezed into a subservient, traditional female role. In the original legend, however, she proves that women must act like men, play by men's rules, and meet male standards in order to be valued.
I don't find either alternative attractive. However... let's look at the language I've used: laden with interpretation and evaluations. Without my thoughts about what the actions mean:
1. Mulan marries her commanding officer.
2. Mulan becomes an advisor to the Emperor.
It's kind of scary to look at the bare, stripped-down actions, and to realize how much of my own stuff I import in order to make a value judgment about the actions.
Symbols typically associate to a single, dominant idea: Red; stop. Green; go. Fence; boundary. Egg; fertility. We react instantly to the symbol's obvious meaning. We can certainly probe symbols for layers -- most contain depth and complexity -- but exploring those meanings requires a deliberate choice to thoughtfully reflect beyond the knee-jerk assumptions.
When I impose a symbol on a human being, I think I automatically invite conflict. Sure, a person can fulfill many roles, but my own conscious attention has limits. When I hang a symbolic identity on someone -- mom, president, princess, hypnotist -- don't I flatten them out a little? Don't other parts of them become invisible? When I go to my insurance agent, do I think about whether he ate a bad egg at breakfast, if his car is low on gas, if he'll get to his daughter's music recital on time? No. All I see is his job, and I want him to get me the best rate.
Sad. Human, natural, and sad.
Also changeable. If I can notice what I'm doing and refocus my attention, I can see the person and loosen my evaluations and judgments.
So. Exercise:
1. Make a list of the different roles you play. What are the symbols people hang on you? Lover, breadwinner, shopper, board member, parent, driver. (Or maybe you want to list a few people in your life and their roles.)
2. What expectations do you have of someone in that role? What do you expect someone in that role to do or be? What expectations do others have of someone in that role?
3. Are any of these expectation ever in conflict? How do you feel when you review the lists?
4. ERASE THE ROLES. Scratch out every symbol. Get rid of those labels! Now, go through the list of expectations. Using Nonviolent Communication, look for the underlying needs. Translate the expectations into observation language using Nonviolent Communication. What actions or behaviors would express those expectations?
Do you notice a shift in your experience?
Friday, June 15, 2007
Enemy Images
One of the reasons I spend so much time teaching the Observation component in Nonviolent Communication is because labeling pervades so much of our human experience. Labels create convenient, simple-to-use, easy-to-understand channels of communication. If I know something is "cheap," or "durable," or "appropriate," I can make decisions more quickly and accurately, living my life with integrity and aligned with my purpose.
Or can I?
I think labels do help us make decisions faster and easier. They also come with a cost: They can help situations devolve into conflict. Any time we simplify the complexities of human interaction and communication, we risk setting up polarities that divide, rather than bridges to cooperate.
So when I hear about people making efforts to change situations they perceive as unjust or unfair, I always ask myself, "Are they building bridges or walls? Are they separating people into camps of good and evil, or are they seeking to connect with one another through common human experiences?"
I value justice and fairness, but I try to avoid those terms in heated discussions, because they beg the question: Justice for whom? Fair for whom? I think those are valid, legitimate questions, but yelling, "That's not fair!" typically evokes defensiveness in the listener. Few of us can keep our cool when we're accused of acting unfairly!
Another thing I've noticed is that when I ask a person to describe the unfair situation in "observation language," they often drop the "unfair" label and switch to other labels: rude, selfish, disrespectful, exploitative, etc.
When I am dealing with my own triggers, it often takes me a long time to abandon labels. It takes even longer if I try to suppress them. To get beyond the labels, I write down all the ones that come to mind. I let my label maker run wild! I celebrate the enormous range of ways I have created to call someone evil! I try to get it all out of my system... and ON PAPER.
Then - and only then - I start translating into observations, feelings, needs and requests. NVC suggests I say, "When I hear you describe [specific policy, in terms of NVC Observation], I feel distressed, because I'm imagining [the needs unmet by the policy]." Then, I can present a connecting request or an action request. That way, I can focus my energies on the actual situation and on meeting our mutual needs, rather than on diagnosing who is "bad," which will probably not move me closer to a solution with the other person.
It's easy to get stuck on labels, and to think of them as objective, dispassionate descriptions. It's easy to think an "atrocity" is pretty self-explanatory. Yet I've found that when I and others take the time to work out the observation, we begin to work toward a solution. When I and others keep holding on to our labels and defending the "rightness" of them, we have remained stuck, frustrated, and angry.
Or can I?
I think labels do help us make decisions faster and easier. They also come with a cost: They can help situations devolve into conflict. Any time we simplify the complexities of human interaction and communication, we risk setting up polarities that divide, rather than bridges to cooperate.
So when I hear about people making efforts to change situations they perceive as unjust or unfair, I always ask myself, "Are they building bridges or walls? Are they separating people into camps of good and evil, or are they seeking to connect with one another through common human experiences?"
I value justice and fairness, but I try to avoid those terms in heated discussions, because they beg the question: Justice for whom? Fair for whom? I think those are valid, legitimate questions, but yelling, "That's not fair!" typically evokes defensiveness in the listener. Few of us can keep our cool when we're accused of acting unfairly!
Another thing I've noticed is that when I ask a person to describe the unfair situation in "observation language," they often drop the "unfair" label and switch to other labels: rude, selfish, disrespectful, exploitative, etc.
When I am dealing with my own triggers, it often takes me a long time to abandon labels. It takes even longer if I try to suppress them. To get beyond the labels, I write down all the ones that come to mind. I let my label maker run wild! I celebrate the enormous range of ways I have created to call someone evil! I try to get it all out of my system... and ON PAPER.
Then - and only then - I start translating into observations, feelings, needs and requests. NVC suggests I say, "When I hear you describe [specific policy, in terms of NVC Observation], I feel distressed, because I'm imagining [the needs unmet by the policy]." Then, I can present a connecting request or an action request. That way, I can focus my energies on the actual situation and on meeting our mutual needs, rather than on diagnosing who is "bad," which will probably not move me closer to a solution with the other person.
It's easy to get stuck on labels, and to think of them as objective, dispassionate descriptions. It's easy to think an "atrocity" is pretty self-explanatory. Yet I've found that when I and others take the time to work out the observation, we begin to work toward a solution. When I and others keep holding on to our labels and defending the "rightness" of them, we have remained stuck, frustrated, and angry.
Sunday, June 10, 2007
This is Your Brain on Filters
I watched a video by Paul Scheele recently in which he quoted the following findings from some research done in 1985-86. (Unfortunately, he didn't cite the study in his presentation. *sigh*).
Compare:
The rate (in BPS, or Bits Per Second) at which our sensory organs receive input:
Eyes - 10,000,000
Ears - 100,000
Skin - 1,000,000
Taste - 1,000
Smell - 100,000
Wow! Pretty amazing!
Now, let's look at how much of that information (also in BPS) reaches the conscious mind:
Eyes - 40
Ears - 30
Skin - 5
Taste - 1
Smell - 1
No, that is not a typo.
Think about this for a moment! Most of the information that's coming in bypasses the conscious mind and goes straight into the nonconscious mind! We're only consciously aware of a fraction of the information we receive about the external world! That doesn't mean we are totally unaware of that information. We simply don't consciously notice it.
This is one reason I love Nonviolent Communication and hypnosis. During the "input" phase of communication, NVC "observations" help me focus my attention on sensory input. What am I seeing and hearing? Who is present? What is happening, in what order? Bringing my focus to these things helps me slow down and notice whether my reactions to the situation are coming from what I'm actually noticing or from a habit, memory, or old interpretation of an earlier, similar event.
Hypnosis, on the other hand, goes directly to the nonconscious mind. When I allow myself to go into trance, I can invite the nonconscious mind to share the perceptions it received but withheld from the conscious mind, not wanting to bother it with a lot of irrelevant details.
Compare:
The rate (in BPS, or Bits Per Second) at which our sensory organs receive input:
Eyes - 10,000,000
Ears - 100,000
Skin - 1,000,000
Taste - 1,000
Smell - 100,000
Wow! Pretty amazing!
Now, let's look at how much of that information (also in BPS) reaches the conscious mind:
Eyes - 40
Ears - 30
Skin - 5
Taste - 1
Smell - 1
No, that is not a typo.
Think about this for a moment! Most of the information that's coming in bypasses the conscious mind and goes straight into the nonconscious mind! We're only consciously aware of a fraction of the information we receive about the external world! That doesn't mean we are totally unaware of that information. We simply don't consciously notice it.
This is one reason I love Nonviolent Communication and hypnosis. During the "input" phase of communication, NVC "observations" help me focus my attention on sensory input. What am I seeing and hearing? Who is present? What is happening, in what order? Bringing my focus to these things helps me slow down and notice whether my reactions to the situation are coming from what I'm actually noticing or from a habit, memory, or old interpretation of an earlier, similar event.
Hypnosis, on the other hand, goes directly to the nonconscious mind. When I allow myself to go into trance, I can invite the nonconscious mind to share the perceptions it received but withheld from the conscious mind, not wanting to bother it with a lot of irrelevant details.
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