by Leslie Strom
I like the idea of a New Year. I generally clean up and review the past 12 months in the last week of the Old Year. I look through my old Franklin-Covey pages and break out the new calendars with their vast white pages. Now that I have a fireplace (a gigantic sucker, by the way), there's a ready place to really purge the year's missteps, inefficiencies, and blunders. Up in flames they go, the confused Notes to Self, the copious job-search notes for jobs I didn't want, lists of goals I didn't desire, made while trying to responsibly solve problems of cash flow and career. Up in flames they go.
So here's the thing I've discovered about making practical decisions: Practicality sucks. Most practical decisions seem right at the time, but contain a germ of compromise. Somewhere in the back of my mind, my subconscious, which Knows All, is fighting to be heard. "Don't go for another engineering job! You hate those!" its hollers muffled by my brain. "I need a job. I can do this work. It can be rewarding from time to time." And so off I go, being practical, which works okay for a while. And the little voice keeps reminding me that I take terrible advice from myself.
I learned a trick for consulting with my subconscious, in a workshop run by growth-oriented counsellor Oceana del Fuego. It's called muscle testing. I discounted it as a New Age parlor trick until I learned to do it on myself and had no one but myself to blame.
Here's how it works: Your subconscious knows the truth about a good many things and has less of a fight if it can bypass your rational mind and talk through your body. Muscles will resist in a strong way with things are right, or "yes." They will respond with weakness to a "no." (Think about how depressed people look all slumped, like all their muscles are saying "no.") To try this out, get a partner. Put your arm straight out in front of you. Make simple yes or no, true or false questions and have the partner push down on your arm as you resist. "I am wearing jeans" (if you're wearing jeans) should be greeted with a strong arm, and your partner should find it hard to push it down. "I am wearing a diamond tiara" should be met with a considerably weakened arm. Don't answer these questions verbally, just see how your arm responds. After you get the hang of it, you can start asking important questions. Go into detail. "I intend to be at the same job in February. I intend be at the same job through March" "I intend to be at the same job another six years" and so on until you get a "yes." It's a good technique for questions that don't seem to have a clear answer. Just remember to phrase things in yes or no terms.
It would look a bit untoward to go around sticking your arm out and asking people to push on it when you need answers. . Most people are suspicious of anything that looks like "pull my finger." I've learned to muscle test myself on small muscles and so can you. It's fun to have your own little Cosmic Answer Machine, quite literally at hand, any time you need the truth. Make an A-OK gesture with the index finger and thumb of the left hand (if you're right-handed) and put your right index finger into the hoop. Resist with your left hand fingers and try to pull the right hand finger through the hoop. It will be considerably easier to break the hoop when making false statements.
At a meeting at work I can watch the madness and ask my little Cosmic Answer Machine, subtly under the table, if there is enough hope for this company to make it worthwhile to stay for one more month. Two more months. Six more months. I eventually get a "no." Keep in mind you're not a Ouija board... one question to start with might be "Do I know the answer to this?"
So you really do have the answers to life. Do you believe in the Cosmic Answer Machine? Come here a second. Stick out your arm.