I have just spent 4 days on module one of my NLP Practitioner course. 4 long days, that went strangely quickly. 4 confusing days, that made total sense. 4 days with total strangers, who I feel as if I've known for much longer. And now they're over, I'm not quite sure what to do with myself until module 2. So I thought I would share something.
We were given some homework. Our homework was to write a passage using sensory based language from all 5 representational systems. In English, that means using language that evokes/relates to all 5 senses.
And then we were asked who wanted to volunteer to stand at the front of the class and read theirs out.
I didn't want to.
I may have presented to clients umpteen times at work, taught classes full of rowdy Italian school children and sung in choir concerts in front of friends and family. But that doesn't mean I actually want to stick myself in front of bunch of people and 'perform' any more than I have to.
I get nervous, and horribly so. My chest thumps, my head pounds and my stomach feels as if a whole host of iron butterflies are running amok. Not to mention the red hot poker that stabs through my shoulder blade, the vice like grip across my chest that threatens to prevent my lungs from ever filling fully again and the niggling little voice that says I'm going to do it wrong. Whatever 'wrong' means.
So, no, thank you very much, I did not want to volunteer to read out my homework.
But somehow, there I was, doing it anyway.
and it went like this:
"I was SO hungry when I left the session yesterday, my tummy all rumbly grumbly. But, mmm, I could just taste the creamy crunchy fish pie and the tingly tart bubbles of pink raspberry lemonade that were waiting for me at home. So I skipped out of the hotel lobby, past the glowingly tempting Starbucks siren and on to the red-blue light of the tube.
Too many people...bump, dodge, stumble and...Trip, on to the platform, nostrils tickling with the sooty whatever it is of the underground. A man, with his ticket flap-flapping. A gaggle of girls yack-yacking. As the train went along clack-clacking. The odd screech of metal. A sudden flash of orange and the air was alive with tangy sweet citrus, teasing torture for my troubled tummy. I wibbled and wobbled, and very nearly toppled right into the squishy soft lap of a steely eyed lady. But managed to grab on just in time...bar oddly cold in the stuffy carriage, not to mention worryingly clammy.
"Mind the gap" warned the tinny tannoy. But I don't mind the gap, what's it ever done to me!? I'll just hop over it.
Whoosh as the train chunters off, hair flying all over the shop in the breeze as nice new air swooshes in to fill the space, cool, fresh and welcome on my skin.
Now out of breath and chest heaving as I (foolishly) run up the steps to catch my train. Out into the bustling bright station. People everywhere. Too many people really. Something's up. Ah, yes, the familiar little, yellow writing on black overhead signs. Squinting...not my favourite words:
Cancelled. Delayed. Cancelled.
Sigh. Stomach sinks. Brow furrows. Hands reach for phone.
My fish pie will have to wait, I am definitely going to be late"
So there we are, my homework.
I don't think JK Rowling will be quaking in her boots.
But the point is, maybe I don't need to be either. Whatever need is.
After I'd finished everybody smiled, and clapped, and laughed and a whole host of lovely things were said...and that felt nice. Iron butterflies softened into pretty pastel wings, softly beating before quietly fluttering off.
Lesson learnt, job done. Roll on module 2.