Phillip Holt's World and NLPNOW
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ABOUT PHILLIP HOLT
Phillip Holt is an International Trainer of NLP, Hypnosis, stage hypnosis, PhotoReading, Mind Maps, iMindMaps software and Memory techniques in many countries, including China, Malaysia, India, Bahrain, Saudi Arabia, Sri Lanka, Turkey, Italy, Libya and the UK.
Email: holt@nlpnow.net
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Merry May Day
Unlike many parts of the World, the UK (United Kingdom) does not have a public holiday on 1st May. We have the first Monday in May as a Bank Holiday.
A Bank Holiday in the UK comes from a time when banks were shut and thus no trading could take place, and today we have eight such days although Northern Ireland has ten. Most notable dates of Bank Holidays are, Christmas Day, Boxing Day, New Years Day and Good Friday.
So today is May Day, and in my home town, The Royal Borough of Kingston upon Thames, we have Merry May Day celebrations, with the town full of singing, dancing, food stalls and people.
The town is alive with families having a nice warm summery day out.
Not only are there human families enjoying the glorious weather.
Bank Holidays have become family days, where people get together, but not for me, I have work to do, because some who know me say that every day is a Bank Holiday for me.
Disturbed Sleep
"Phillip, are you up yet?", or "Go back to sleep.", were often comments I got in the morning from my mother when I was a younger boy. If she was awake, then I and the whole world should be awake, to be up and about, but, if she wanted a lay-in, if she wanted an extra hour of sleep, which always seemed to be on a Sunday, then I should also sleep in.
Living in a block of apartments in Norbiton Hall, it means I have a family above me, below me and to the two sides of me, and noise does penetrate the floors, ceilings and walls, which is understandable when sharing communal buildings.
It is the same in hotels, where one usually has a small room with very thin walls and doors separating ones-self and the other guests.
Travelling the world as I do on a regular basis, I have encountered many styles and types of hotels, and it seems that I do not sleep in the same bed for more than ten days at a time. I also encounter different cultures and behaviours.
Early morning calls for hotel guests, especially those on a tour when their bus/coach leaves at 7am. I did not ask for a call, but with the walls so thin I also hear their wake-up call.
Tours which need to have block booking of multiple rooms is another, "time to wake up" signal for Phillip, although I do not need one or placed one.
Suitcases being dragged down the corridors, and banging doors as guests come and go are a sleep disturbing episode.
School trips or sports team members love to stay-up late at night, perhaps going out to a late night disco, come back in high spirits, laughing, singing, shouting, running from room to room, banging doors.
Chinese tourists seem to have to shout from room to room with their doors closed. Have they not heard of the bedside telephone which they can use? The Oriental women seem to have to shout and in a high pitch voice in all their conversations.
In hotels catering for the Middle Eastern peoples, they seem to travel in family groups, and they allow the children to run from room to room into the early hours of the morning. OK, in my culture from the UK, all children have to be in bed for say 9pm. The hotel guests also leave their doors open to their rooms and shout to each other in conversations.
Then you get the couples, who, after a good night out, or a great meal in the restaurant, return to have an argument in their room. As I will not be able to probably understand their language, it all becomes a mass of unbearable noise which keeps me awake.
Then you get other noises.
A hotel in Ankara, Turkey where I stayed, gave me a really pleasant room, and I went to bed early to get enough sleep to give my course the next day. I was awoken with a thump, thump, thump, on the dividing wall between my room and the next. It was not long before the sounds of pleasure were penetrating the walls. Laying there, I had to endure the sounds for a few more minutes, until they ceased, and I was able to get to sleep.
An hour later, the thump, thump, thump, on my wall started again, waking me up, followed by the sounds of passion and pleasure. I lay there until it stopped and went back to sleep.
On the hour, every hour, all through the night this continued. I was exhausted.
The next morning I left my room to go down for breakfast the same time as the guests from the room next to mine left their room. She was young, model figured lady, and he was a wizen old man. I was amazed by his stamina, or could it be that the lady was a business lady?
I moved rooms.
On top of all the other noises as mentioned above, there are the traffic noises, people snoring, perhaps the person I am sleeping with fidgeting or talking in their sleep, keeping me awake at night.
Last night I knew I was in for trouble. I arrived home from a meeting at 10pm, to see two taxis's waiting outside the next apartment entrance, and young adults streaming out of the apartment block laughing and joking, obviously going to a night club.
At 3am in the morning they returned, and their party continued in an adjacent apartment, loud talking and shouting, laughter and banging of doors and furniture.
Other residents were obviously being disturbed to, as I heard knocking on floors and walls, loud enough to make me think someone was knocking on my front door.
The noise continued until 7:45am, when all went quiet, and I went back to sleep, only to be awoken by a telephone call half an hour later to inform me by a recorded voice that "Congratulations, you have won a prize.....". I did not stop to listen, but switched the phone off and placed it under my pillow.
My sleep had been disturbed now and I got up.
Oh for a good nights sleep.
Perhaps I should go and find a desert island somewhere.
But then I expect a flock of seagulls would wake me up as soon as it became light, signalling each other it was time to get their early morning food.
It is now 1:30 pm in the afternoon, and the revellers have just woken-up, and shouting and laughing has started again.
So afternoon nap for me then.
I found a new friend Oakley
Last night at a concert featuring Kingston University Chamber Choir, Chorus and Ensemble entitled, Ancient and Modern, Innovation & Modern: c1656 - 3/5/2013, I made a new friend.
The concert had been organised at St. John's Church, Hampton Wick, to present prizes to three winners of the Music Composition Competition at Kingston University, with prizes given by the Rotary Club of Kingston upon Thames.
I was asked as a Rotarian and member of the organising committee to take photographs of the event, and as an added advantage, I got to hear the concert, plus meet many people.
But I made one special friend if only for a moment, Oakley.
Oakley is a Labrador guide dog for the blind, and his owner sat infront of me. He lay next to his owner, listening to the music in a deep slumber, as he was off duty.
Then he awoke, stretched, saw me and came and rested his head on my leg, looking me directly in my eyes with his big brown and black eyes.
I was in love. My heart went out to him, and in an instant I had made a friend, perhaps for a short time, but one of trust between the two of us.
Now the evening has gone, the music has stopped, the prizes given, I will probably never meet Oakley again, but that moment will stay with me forever.
We all have those special times when deep friendships are made, perhaps for a few moments, perhaps from a weeks holiday, perhaps over an acquaintance of ten years, perhaps over a near lifetime of togetherness, then we go our separate ways, but that special friendship can never be taken away, neither the memories or feelings can be erased, forever etched into our personality.
Thank you my friend for our brief time together.
Discovering a Martian Fighting Machine
After my post about the book The Martians Are Coming, and with nothing to do the next afternoon, I jumped on a local train and visited the home town of H G Wells, a place called Woking, Surrey, England.
I endeavour where ever possible, not to take what I am told, given, or learn at face value, unlike the listeners of that radio play by Orson Welles broadcast in 1938 in the USA, which resulted in mass panic, where people thought Martians were invading Earth. I need to dig down, chunk down, to discover more facts, to understand the truth behind what I am being told, what I read, or what I am being fed.
And so it was, after a short journey I left the railway station in Woking. I had read that there was a Martian Fighting Machine described by H G Wells in his book The War Of The Worlds erected in the town center. I walked down a road deserted of shoppers and with not very inspiring shops, having really no idea of which direction to take, only presupposing that any artwork would perhaps be in the town center.
As I rounded a corner my eyes caught sight of a jet fighter mounted on a large metal pole. Why was it mounted in the center of Woking I could not find out from asking local people, only that once it had been a indoor showpiece of the nearby Big Apple family entertainment centre. One window cleaner I talked to, said he had worked and lived in the area for fifteen years and had no idea what it was all about. I have later found out that it is thought to be the very last Hawker Hunter ever built.
Then down the road from the corner of my eye, (thank you Phillip's Sausage), I saw the Martian Fighting Machine.
With very little information about the sculpture I took my time viewing this work by Michael Condron. Smaller than I imagined, some 7m (23') tall, the sculpture seemed to be in the wrong place to honour one of Woking's greatest authors.
A quick tour of the shops and a cup of hot chocolate and I was back on a train home, not knowing much more than when I started my afternoon trip. But now a little seed has been planted to research why the Hawker Hunter has been placed outside a rather seedy looking Big Apple family entertainment centre.
The Martians Are Coming
As people who have attended my training courses around the world know, I have one love, and that is the H G Wells story of The War of the Worlds.
Along with story Jeff Wayne long ago created the musical The War of the Worlds, and I can loose myself in masterpiece of music and song wrapped around a fantastic story.
Set in the UK in the late 19th Century, in the area I live in Surrey, H G Wells tells the story of how earth is invaded by Martians. H G Wells weaves his story around his intimate knowledge of the area of Woking and Horsell Common, Leatherhead, Shepperton, Walton, Sheen, and so on.
I get lost in Jeff Wayne's two CD musical, with the striking voice of Richard Burton as the voice of the journalist telling the story, mixed in with dramatic song and music.
Durring my many years of listening and reading The War of the Worlds, I had also heard how late one Sunday evening in 1938, mass hysteria swept across America, as a play was acted-out on the then new medium of radio. People fled their homes, telephone switchboards were engulfed with panicked citizens demand to know what they should do to avoid the invasion.
In his book, The Martians Are Coming, Alan Gallop tells the story of the actor Orson Welles had entered into the profession of acting. Orson Welles soon became well known on stage for his voice and acting abilities, for his passion for adapting plays and books into plays that he could produce and often star in.
It was with a theatrical producer, John Housman, that Orson Welles set-up the Mercury Theatre, to stage plays, and this allowed Welles to pursue his acting career, which he did along side his radio work. The pair were approached by a radio company to broadcast a one hour play each week to be heard all over America.
Welles would take a book and adapt it to become a radio play using the actors from the Mercury Theatre On Air group. The programmes were not a roaring success, but they were listened to.
The night before Halloween in October 1938, Orson Welles had decided to broadcast The War of the Worlds, and the now in place writer, Howard Koch, struggled with taking the original work of H G Wells work set in England, and make it relevant to the ears of the American listeners.
It was decided that the scene should be set in the USA, and Koch purchased a map and chose the site of the landing of the first cylinder from Mars to be Wilmuth Farm, Grover's Mill in New Jersey.
The play was based on the premise that a music program was to be interrupted by news flashes from the scene of the landing, having interviews with professors and politicians, and following the progress of the Martians in their three legged fighting machines through to New York, reeking havoc and death on their way.
Although, an announcement was made at the beginning, at the end and during the play that is was fiction, many listeners tuned-in missing these messages, and those assumed that the USA was being attacked by Martians, and thus spread panic and rumours amongst the population.
Not knowing what was happening outside the CBS radio broadcasting studios, Orson Welles and his fellow actors and musicians continued, reeking more havoc.
This book gives the background and facts to this 1938 happening, showing how human beings can be so influenced, how we can take a little piece of information and this become the truth. How unrelated situations, in this case Hitler and the chance of Germany invading other countries in Europe can be brought in to create panic. (See Cat on the Mat).
It was from here that Steven Spielberg created his film version of The War of the Worlds. NOw, I think a new film version be produced, based truly on the book of H G Wells, in the UK, using the countryside and towns written. For me the original story is far more gripping, and after all, America did not win the war against the Martians.
Sometimes Time Flies
For some time now I have not posted any blog, any thoughts, any comments, any news.
Why?
I have no idea.
Perhaps I have become lazy. Perhaps I have been distracted. Perhaps I have had other things to do. Perhaps I have no time.
I do not think any of the above is the reason why, but sitting here in Italy, waiting for my next course to start tomorrow on Coaching, I have had time to reflect on what has been happening in my life over the last few months, something I have not done for a long time, and I realised that I had been distracted away from things I liked to do, like writing an article here on my blog.
Often we are distracted from our normal routine, by a family crisis, a work problem, a domestic problem, a person who needs help, and it is right that we should devote time and effort to those distractions, but, there comes a time when those distractions resolve themselves, and we can get back to normality.
Perhaps I can now return to normality as many of my distractions appears to have been resolved.
I am back.
Youth Speaks, a Rotary Club Competition
The annual Senior Youth Speaks Competition, for schools in the Royal Borough, was held in the Methodist Church, New Malden, on the 13th November, and organised by the Rotary Club of Kingston upon Thames.
Pupils, teachers, friends and families of the competing teams, members and friends of the Rotary Club, and The Worshipful Mayor of Kingston upon Thames, Councillor Mary Heathcote, were presented with very high standard and thought provoking speeches by five teams from, Richard Challoner, Coombe Boys, Coombe Girls, Surbiton High and Tolworth Girls schools.
Each team consisted of three members, a chairperson, a speaker, and a vote of thanks, with each being allocated a set time to deliver a speech. Titles of the talks covered many areas, “Time: it's all relative”, “The Rise and fall of the Dark Night”, “The Olympic Legacy”, “Are We Slaves To Conformity”, and a rather controversial “Duty to our Parents”, where the speaker implied that there could be an answer to the ever increasing grey haired population, euthanasia.
Obviously, a lot of effort and coaching had been put into the preparation for the night, and all credit must be given to the teachers for supporting their teams both before and during the evening, and it was wonderful to witness teams supporting their competing teams.
Three Adjudicators sat marking the teams, June McCullough, Dr, Helen Setright and Dr. David Lawson, and after the talks and as we all helped ourselves to an array of food and drink, mingling and chatting as the Adjudicators deliberated the results.
After the break, The Worshipful Mayor of Kingston upon Thames, Councillor Mary Heathcote and Kingston Rotary Clubs' President Paul Hickson, presented each team member with a certificate of merit. Then the results were anounced.
Best Speaker Stephen Inns from Coombe Boys School
Best Chairperson Jinal Parekh from Tolworth Girls School
Best Proposer Jordan Agyemang from Coombe Boys School
Special Award for Merit Sam Baxter from Richard Challoner
The winning team which will go forward to the next round of the Rotary International in Great Britain and Ireland in March 2013, to represent the Royal Borough was Tolworth Girls School.
The Rotary Club Youth Speaks Competition gives the youth practice and confidence for their future life, both personally and professionally in public speaking, something we all may have to do sometime during our life, with the opportunity to have fun, meet new people, win prizes and a chance to participate in the Rotary Club's Youth Exchange program, where two teenagers will spend a sponsored week with others in either, France, Germany, Poland or the UK, expanding and understanding others' cultures.
PhotoReading in Milano 2012
Eighteen people attended the PhotoReading course organised by Coach4Life in the Golf Residence Hotel, Opera, Milano.
Three wonderful days, where each participant brought into the course five books, each of 300 pages, and during the weekend they got through six books, plus articles, plus ate and slept, plus listen to me.
I think some of them came in on the first day thinking that it would be impossible to absorb such an amount of information, especially from four of their books that they had never read and did not even know the subject.
What a surprise then for many, when on the last afternoon, they gave a presentation to their fellow participants about those four books that they had no knowledge of on the first day.
It was a joy for me to stand back and listen to them talking and answering questions with such authority, and those listening were amazed at the knowledge being shown.
My only problem was my flight that evening was once again delayed leaving Milan's Linate airport, meaning a late arrival back in the UK. But it was worth it especially as I read this on Facebook :-
"Ecco il gruppo di Photoreading!
18 nuovi Fotolettori che hanno assorbito e "cantato" il contenuto di ben 5 libri....un totale di circa 1500 pagine in 3 giorni. Compliments and greetings to our great trainer Phillip Holt for his performance and hard work!"
or translated
Here is the Group of Photoreading!
18 new Fotolettori that have absorbed and "sang" the contents of as many as 5 books .... a total of approximately 1500 pages in 3 days.
Compliments and greetings to our great trainer Phillip Holt for his performance and hard work!
18 new Fotolettori that have absorbed and "sang" the contents of as many as 5 books .... a total of approximately 1500 pages in 3 days.
Compliments and greetings to our great trainer Phillip Holt for his performance and hard work!
Fireworks in Kingston upon Thames 2012
Every year on 5th November, to celebrate Guy Fawkes Day, of as it is also known, Bonfire Night, the British people burn rubbish piled high, and on top of the bonfire, we will have a Guy, or a mannequin or dummy, which is the representation of Guy Fawkes.
During the evening when we light the bonfire we will let of lots of fireworks.
It is also tradition that the children will take the "Guy" into the streets, and ask passers-bye "A penny for the Guy". As a boy, I would collect enough pennies to buy the fireworks for the night, and have great joy in firstly building the "Guy", and then seeing him burn on the bonfire.
In 1605, a number of conspirators planned to assassinate the then King, James 1, to restore a Catholic monarch to the throne by blowing-up the House of Lords in the Palace of Westminster.
The Gunpowder plot was discovered, and the conspirators arrested. And, it is this that the British celebrate.
Due to health and safety, the population no-longer having gardens capable of having a bonfire, individual households or small groups getting together is now a rare occurrence to have a bonfire, but in Kingston upon Thames, the Rotary Club and Roundtable, get together and organise a large firework display. Along with the local radio station, Radio Jackie, who provide the commutation and music, the local Royal Borough also support the venture.
A modest entrance fee is charged, and the many hundreds of people enjoy a superb evening of fireworks, and much money is raised to help the local community.
I have produced a small video of the evening, I hope you enjoy it.
Coming Courses in Italy and Turkey, November 2012
Italian Version 
Türkçe versiyonu
I have a number of courses coming up, and for those that follow me, and those who have asked to be informed about future courses here are two I will be giving in Italy and Turkey.
In todays world we are being overwhelmed with written material, perhaps by journals, magazines, manuals, books, emails, and to keep ourselves at the top, with the knowledge needed to compete and exist in our work and social lives.
How can we get through this vast amount of material? By reading more productively.
We can speed up our reading speeds.
We can read more selectively.
We can read only that information that is relevant to our needs or purpose.
On the course I will teach you all the above and more.
Normal reading, we can expect to read at approximately 180 Words Per Minute (WPM) with 60% comprehension.
With speed-reading it is said we can achieve 800 WPM with 60% comprehension.
With PhotoReading we can achieve 20,000 – 30,000 WPM with 80% comprehension for the purpose we are reading for.
Over the two and a half day course we will get through six books, each with 300 pages, so I will ask you to bring some books with you.
PhotoReading is not reading you have experienced before.
For those who have completed the course before, why not come along to practice and reinforce your learning, it will be fantastic to see you again for a small charge to cover the hire of the room etc. Remember for returning participants, you must have and produce the official Learning Strategies sealed certificate.
Contact the organisers Coach4Life for more information or email me.
In Istanbul, Turkey, 17th - 23rd November 2012, I will be giving a course Licensed by Richard Bandler's Society of NLP, the NLP Practitioner Course, your first step into obtaining excellence, confidence and change in yourself and others.
Learning NLP with Richard Bandler in the early 1990's and being one of his assistants for many years and becoming a Licensed Trainer with the Society of NLP, I have taught licensed Practitioner and Master Practitioner courses all over the world on a regular basis, especially in Turkey, many people have attended to gain excellence in their life, their work life, their business, their education, their family.
Previous participants have come from wide ranging backgrounds, housewives, doctors, students, princess, unemployed, retired or just interested, all are welcome to attend to this life changing course.
Gain the confidence to make changes in yourself and others, learn how we communicate and how the human brain processes information of change.
Contact NLPGrup in Istanbul for more information or email me.
I will continue to deliver more courses and talks will be following in Italy and Turkey plus many other countries, covering Licensed NLP at different levels, Licensed TonyBuzan's Mind Maps, Memory Skills, Speed-reading, Coaching, Hypnosis and Stage Hypnosis to name just a few.
Many companies and organisations have had in-house courses and seminars designed specifically for their needs, so should your company have requirements for in-house training or consultancy, please contact me for information and discussion.
İtalya ve Türkiye’deki Eğitimler, Kasım 2012
Yakın dönemde düzenleceğim çeşitli eğitimleri takip edenler ve eğitimlerimle ilgili bilgi almak isteyenler için, yakında İtalya ve Türkiye’de iki eğitim veriyor olacağım.
İtalya’da 9-11 Kasım 2012 tarihleri arasında Milano’daki Golf Residence Otel’inde PhotoReading eğitimi veriyor olacağım.
Günümüz dünyasında gazeteler, dergiler, manüeller, kitaplar, e-postalar tarafından sayısız yazılı materyal bombardımanına uğruyoruz. Bunlara ek olarak iş ve sosyal yaşamımızda var olabilmek ve rekabet edebilmek için gereken bilgileri edinmemiz gerekiyor.
Bu yoğun materyallerin altından nasıl kalkacağız? Daha verimli okuyarak.
Okuma hızımızı artırabiliriz.
Daha seçici okuyabiliriz.
Yalnızca ihtiyaçlarımıza ya da amacımıza uygun olan bilgileri okuyabiliriz.
Eğitimde, yukarıdakilerin tümünü öğretiyor olacağım.
Normal okumada, dakikada yaklaşık 180 kelimeyi %60 anlama oranıyla okuruz.
Hızlı okumada, dakikada 800 kelimeyi %60 anlama oranıyla okuruz.
PhotoReading ile dakikada 20.000 – 30.000 kelimeyi okuma amacımıza yönelik olarak %80 oranında anlarız.
İki buçuk günlük bu eğitimde, her biri 300 sayfalık altı kitabı tamamlayacağız, dolayısıyla yanınızda kitap getirmenizi isteyeceğim.
PhotoReading, daha önceki okuma deneyimlerinizden tamamen farklı olacak.
Daha önce bu eğitimi almış olanlar, eğitime yeniden katılıp öğrendiklerini pekiştirebilir. İkinci sefer katılacak olan katılımcılarımızı, cüzi bir katılım miktarıyla aramızda görmekten memnuniyet duyarız. Bu katılımcılarımızın Learning Strategies kurumundan kendilerine verilen orjinal sertifikayı yanlarında getirmeleri gerekmektedir.
Daha fazla bilgi için Coach4Life ile irtibata geçin ya da bana e-posta gönderin.
Istanbul, Türkiye’de, 17-23 Kasım 2012 tarihlerinde, Richarch Bandler’ın Society of NLP kurumundan lisanslı, NLP Practitioner Eğitimi veriyor olacağım. Bu eğitim, mükemmelliğe ve özgüvene ulaşmak, kendinizde ve diğerlerinde değişim gerçekleştirmek için ilk adımınız olacak.
1990’ların başlarında NLP’yi Richard Bandler’dan öğrendikten ve uzun yıllar onun asistanlığını yaptıktan sonra Society of NLP kurumunun lisanslı bir eğitmeni olarak tüm dünyada düzenli olarak lisanslı Practitioner ve Master Practitioner eğitimleri verdim. Dünya genelinde ve özellikle de Türkiye’deki eğitimlere iş ve özel hayatlarında, eğitimlerinde, ailelerinde mükemmellik elde etmek isteyen çok sayıda kişi katıldı.
Katılımcılarımız doktor, öğrenci, ev hanımı, emekli ya da çeşitli mesleklerden kişiler olabildiği gibi yalnızca ilgisini çeken kişiler de olabilmekte.
Kendinizde ve diğerlerinde değişim yaratabilme özgüvenini kazanın, nasıl iletişim kurduğumuzu ve insan beyninin nasıl çalıştığını öğrenin.
Daha fazla bilgi için Istanbul’daki NLPGrup ile iletişime geçiniz ya da bana e-posta gönderebilirsiniz.
İtalya ve Türkiye’den sonra birçok ülkede eğitimler vermeye ve konuşmalar yapmaya devam edeceğim. Eğitim konuları arasında farklı seviyelerde Lisanslı NLP, Tony Buzan’ın Lisanslı Zihin Haritaları, Hafıza Becerileri, Hızlı Okuma, Koçluk, Hipnoz ve Sahne Hipnozu yer alıyor.
Birçok özel firma ve kuruluş için ihtiyaçlarına yönelik olarak şirket işi eğitimler ve seminerler düzenlemekteyiz, şirket içi eğitim ve danışmanlık ihtiyaçlarınız için de benimle irtibata geçebilirsiniz.
Corsi di lingua in Italia e in Turchia, Novembre 2012
Ho un certo numero di corsi in arrivo e, per quelli che mi seguono e quelli che hanno chiesto di essere informati sui corsi futuri, qui ce ne sono due che terrò in Italia e Turchia.
In Italia terrò un corso di PhotoReading dal 9 all’11 Novembre 2012 e si terrà presso l'Hotel Residence Golf, Opera, Milano.
Nel mondo di oggi,
la nostra mente, viene sopraffatto da materiale scritto, da
giornali, riviste, manuali, libri, e-mail e dobbiamo per mantenere
noi stessi al top con le conoscenze necessarie per essere
competitivi nel nostro lavoro e a nostro agio nella vita sociale.
Come possiamo selezionare questa grande quantità di materiale?
Leggendo in modo più produttivo!
Siamo in grado di accelerare la nostra velocità di lettura.
Siamo in grado di leggere in modo più selettivo.
Siamo in grado di leggere solo le informazioni che sono rilevanti per le nostre esigenze o finalità.
Il corso vi insegnerà tutto questo e molto altro.
Lettura normale, ci si può aspettare di leggere a circa 180 parole al minuto (WPM) con il 60% di comprensione.
Con lo Speed Reading è detto che possiamo ottenere 800 WPM con il 60% di comprensione.
Con il PhotoReading siamo in grado di raggiungere 20.000 - 30.000 WPM con l'80% di comprensione per lo scopo con il quale stiamo leggendo.
Nel corso due giorni e mezzo giorno arriverai a foto leggere fino a sei libri, ciascuno con 300 pagine. Ecco perché ti chiedo di portare con te alcuni libri e tutti di 300 pagine circa.
PhotoReading non è un modo di leggere che avete sperimentato prima.
Per coloro i quali hanno completato il primo corso perché non venite a praticare ed a rafforzare l'apprendimento, sarà fantastico rivivere il seminario con un piccolo costo per coprire il noleggio della sala, ecc .
Ricordiamo a titti i partecipanti che ritornano al corso di portare con se il certificato originale firmato da Paul Scheele.
Contattate Coach4Life per ulteriori informazioni opuure scrivetemi una email.
A Istanbul, Turchia, 17-23 novembre 2012, terrò un corso di Programmazione Neurolinguistica della Società Richard Bandler. Il famosissimo Practitioner PNL, il tuo primo passo verso l'ottenimento dell’ eccellenza, la fiducia in te stesso ed il cambiamento anche negli altri!
Ho imparato la PNL con Richard Bandler nei primi anni ‘90 e sono stato uno dei suoi assistenti per moltissimi anni e, dopo aver conseguito la licenza come Trainer con la Society of NLP ho insegnato a Practitioner e Master Practitioner in tutto il mondo, su base regolare e, soprattutto, in Turchia molte persone hanno partecipato per ottenere l'eccellenza nella loro vita, nella loro vita lavorativa, la loro attività, la loro educazione, la loro famiglia.
I partecipanti alle edizioni precedenti avevano estrazioni di ogni genere: casalinghe, medici, studenti, principessa, disoccupato, pensionato o semplicemente interessati al funzionamento della mente. Infatti tutti sono invitati a partecipare a questo corso che cambia la vita.
Conquistare la fiducia di apportare modifiche in voi stessi e negli altri, imparare come si comunica e come il cervello umano elabora le informazioni per ottenere il cambiamento.
Contatta NLPGrup a Istanbul per maggiori informazioni anche tramite posta elettronica.
Continuerò a fornire ulteriori corsi e conferenze in Italia e Turchia oltre a molti altri paesi, insegnando PNL diversi livelli e, con licenza di Tony Buzan, mappe mentali, abilità di memoria, lettura veloce, Coaching, Ipnosi e Ipnosi da palcoscenico, per citarne solo alcuni.
Molte aziende e organizzazioni hanno avuto “tailor made” corsi e seminari studiati appositamente per le loro esigenze, se anche nella vostra azienda necessitate di formazione interna o di consulenza, di altissima qualità vi prego di contattarmi direttamente.
Synchronicity, Bletchley Park, History Unfolding
It was in the 1920's that the Swiss psychologist Carl Gustav Jung first described the the terminology of synchronicity, saying that when two or more events occur together or are linked when there is no apparent reason for them to be linked at that time, things come together by what seems chance, this is synchronicity.
It was early one Sunday morning, the British clock system had been adjusted back to GMT (Greenwich Mean Time) that morning, that meant that my clock showed 7:30am, but my body said it was 8:30am, and I had nothing meaningful to do and wide awake.
As a Radio Ham (G8YJQ), I had heard of the RSGB (Radio Society of Great Britain) National Radio Centre based in Bletchley Park, the war-time home of secret code breaking and the birthplace of the first modern computer. I decided to visit the National Radio Centre.
I often like to revisit the basics, to start again to review, as if I knew nothing about a subject, as it reinforces the foundations of expertise, to pick-up knowledge missed along the way of learning a subject.
I joined a group of visitors, as toured the radio exhibition very quickly, leaving me in their wake as I read the documentation written about the displays, which they skipped over. The exhibition was quite small and a little disappointing to me, so I had finished my visit very quickly, even after a long conversation with a guide and another radio ham.
I decided to visit the rest of the Bletchley Park facility again as I had travelled a long way, to see if the model aircraft of the Italian aircraft (Savoia-Marchetti SM.79 Sparviero) I had donated, had been used in their exhibition, and no it had not been used, to revisit, to reinforce and relearn what I knew about the site and its' history.
I joined another small group of people of many nationalities, and we met in the main house to hear the initial opening lecture about the code breakers, setting the scene for the tour. Even though I had heard this talk before, it had been with another guide, and he gave us information new to me. As we wondered around the site, new information was being imparted, especially about the decoding Bombe machines, I had never understood how they worked, I had a concept, but now after the guides talk, I was beginning to understand.
That reminded me of something I had learnt when I first started in the computer field in 1963, sometimes you don't need to know how something works to use it.
We eventually visited the National Museum of Computing housed in buildings of part of Bletchley Park.
Here the guide explained about Tunny code breaking machines, or as it is also known, the German Lorenz SZ42 cipher-machines.
Two new "Ah Ha" moments came to me, that the cipher machines Enigma and the Lorenz used by the German's to encrypt messages ran side by side in the Second World War, being two separate systems or methods of transmission of a message, one being morse code the other being teleprinter.
The second "Ah Ha" moment came as I realised that I had heard and read about Lorenz in two different contexts, one was for the equipment to encode messages I was viewing, and the other was for the beams of radio waves the German aircraft to fly along and used to locate targets to bomb in the UK during the war. Both the encrypting machine and the beams were made by the German manufacturer Lorenz, but people had when speaking about the systems, had truncated or missed off what Lorenz model they were talking about, just like saying it was a Ford, but what model Ford, was it a car, was it a transit van?
As we walked around listening and learning, a couple in our group were talking about papers and artefacts that had been left to them by the husband's now deceased mother and father, and that some of the letters were now making sense, they now realised that they had been written to and by people who had worked in Bletchley Park. These people at Bletchley Park in the Second World War had been sworn to secrecy at to what they were working on, what they were doing or even where they were, many taking their secrets with them to their graves many decades later. I now regret not asking my now departed Uncle Frank about his work in the 2nd World War, because as I research more, I believe he may have had had some dealing with the Bletchley Code Breakers.
Also, the couple told me that they had in their possession, left by the father, many old thermionic valves and parts used by the Post Office in the UK who used to run the telephone service.
Passing on from the Tunny Gallery, we passed into the Colossus Gallery, showing a reconstructed decoding machine, the worlds first digital semi-programmable computer, designed and built by Tommy Flowers, a telephone engineer, who took standard telephone switching gear, thermionic valves and other bits and pieces, to build this worlds first computer of it's type.
As we listened to our guide about how the British Government, after the finish of the 2nd World War, did not want the secret be known by other powers and especially the Russians of Colossus, and apart from two machines which were sent to the Secret Service's headquarters at GCHQ, all other machines were destroyed, along with paperwork, designs and drawings.
It was only a few years ago that a group of enthusiasts led by Tony Sale, who gathered information from photographs, people who worked on the Colossus, and those you built and maintained them, that rebuilt what we can see today, a working Colossus which can decipher and work as the originals did, and does so for visitors to see today.
Colossus, the worlds first semi-programmable computer
Colossus, from the rear showing the circuits and thermionic valves
When our guide had finished his talk, the couple's eyes were alive, as they had some parts, letters, paperwork, documents and some knowledge from the father, who they now realised had worked with Tommy Flowers on the original Colossus, and I urged them to go and speak to one of the guides who I knew had worked on the rebuild and was now sitting in a small office near to the working computer.
I think at first reluctantly the guide listened to them, but he became interested, as here was new knowledge being delivered, and so off they went to another area of the exhibition, only to return with a framed photograph of Tommy Flowers, and in that photograph was the father.
I was witnessing the discovery of new knowledge, the recovery of history.
Leaving Bletchley Park, and a almost two hour journey, I arrived home and settled down to a wonderful hot chilli con carne meal I had made, and switched on the TV. To my surprise the BBC were showing a Timewatch series, "Codebreakers: Bletchley Park's Lost Heroes", the story of code breaking and the Colossus, reinforcing what I had learned not a few hours earlier.
Synchronicity. If I had not been bored and decided to rekindle my Ham Radio interests, to visit the National Radio Centre, which happened to be at Bletchley Park, and if I had not continued to do another tour of the park, I would not have had those "Ah Ha" moments, seen many more things, and learnt so much more, meet the couple who had a direct connection to Colossus through the father and Tommy Flowers, then see the TV program.
Wrong telephone number
For the last two days my mobile phone has been hot with calls, but they were not business calls.
In England and Wales, our police force which are split into regions, will soon be overseen by commissioners for police and crime, one elected person per region.
Apart from The London Metropolitan Police Force, which has Mayor Boris Johnson as the "overseer" or "commissioner", the people of England and Wales will be voting for representatives for these new posts, and as this is the first time any such post has been created, people have questions, so a help-line telephone number has allocated, a freephone number.
Unfortunately, people ringing this freephone number were forwarded to my mobile number.
I have spoken to so many nice people, who were asking me questions about the vote, about the candidates, the system, which I have no knowledge about, and it has been quite a change from all those "cold callers" trying to sell me computer virus checking on my PC which I do not have, I am an Apple user, and companies trying to sell me their services to recover money from banks that I have not spent on protection schemes for loans I have never had.
It took me two hours to find a person at the Election Reform Society and the British Home Office who would listen to my problems of receiving their calls on my mobile.
It is a pity I cannot charge the Home Office for my time and telephone charges I have incurred, but then I have had many nice conversations today.
The Society Of NLP Practitioner, Milan, 2012
It has been some time since my last blog, but that is not because I have not been inactive, far from it I have not had much time on my hands.
Today is the last day of the Society of NLP Practitioner Course being held in the Golf Residence Hotel in Milan, with Coach4Life.
Once again, the Italian participants have been a joy to work with and to pass-on my knowledge to.
It has been since the early 1990's that I have been coming to Italy sometimes on a monthly basis, to give courses, and it has made me happy to see participants rise to fame themselves in the training field.
But what happiness this morning, my last morning, a knock on my bedroom door, and there waiting for me was my breakfast on a tray.
Thank you guys for arranging my breakfast in bed.
Spies in the Sky, Taylor Downing
After reading Target Tirpitz, Dam Busters, and other books on the history of World War II, (WW2), and realising how much was missing from my knowledge, my interest has been ignited to find other information, other gaps that need filling in.
One area mentioned was the intelligence which was gathered about targets prior to missions, and then post mission, the information which was made available as to the success or failure of the missions.
I came across Taylor Downing's book, Spies in the Sky, which like many books being publish at this time, gathers together facts, figures, information, stories, history about what I was looking for, "the secret battle for aerial intelligence during World War II".
This well written book tells in a near chronological sequence how and why the need for intelligence started in the 19th century, through the First World War, primarily the Second World War, even through to today, from the air.
It tells how Sidney Cotton, perhaps a maverick, an unconventional thinking person, used his knowledge and love of flying, to create methods of gathering aerial photographs of places of interest for military needs. It follows the story of how, despite opposition by some in power, the initial drive by Cotton was developed to a point where there were thousands of people gathering information, analysing and interpreting it to be made available just from aerial photographs, to the leaders, generals, admirals and air marshals, the planners, for battles that would follow.
The book tells the stories of pilots flying often alone for long hours, deep behind enemy lines, in unarmed reconnaissance aircraft, risked their lives, many never to return or unheard of again, just to photograph the land below them as they flew above, throughout the world.
Based in a country house, Danesfield House, Medmenham, in the Thames Valley near London, men and woman, civilians in uniform, academic people, gathered to process and analyse the millions of photographs taken by the reconnaissance pilots. Everyone, like those, the code breakers at Bletchley Park operated in total secret, unaware what others in other sections were doing, and their secrets were hidden from the public for many years.
This book tells the story of aerial intelligence during World War II, a good read.
But even more questions have been planted in my mind now.
Target Tirpitz Patrick Bishop
Another fantastic read, which has brought together lots of stories and knowledge I have gained, to become the realisation that many were linked together, something I had missed.
OK, the subject matter that I have been reading was about the Second World War, (WW2), but what I had read and researched before, were about individual incidents/campaigns/missions, and I had seen them and understood them as that, stand-alone.
Why I read the book, Target Tirpitz, was because I had just finished the book Dam Busters, the formation of the special RAF Dambusters Squadron, 617, and how they went on to finally sink the German battleship the Tirpitz. I wanted to find more information about this famous RAF Squadron.
The easy to read book, left me with the feeling that it gave both sides of the story, from the point of views of the Axis Powers and the Allies, with Patrick Bishop having obtained interviews from many people from both sides involved with this part of history.
The book starts with the launching of Tirpitz on Saturday, 1st April 1939 and follows the battleships life until it was finally finished on 11th November 1944.
In chapter one, Alfred Zuba tells his story of the final hours of how he was trapped in the then dark capsized vessel, of how he was one of only a few who were cut out of the upturned hull, leaving nearly 1,000 men who perished inside Tirpitz when the Dambusters sealed the final blow.
Although the Tirpitz really did not go into battle with Allied shipping, it did tie-up Allied Naval vessels in containing her mostly in the Norwegian Fiords, resources badly needed in other parts of the world.
The book tells how the British and the Americans were being pushed by what seems very ungrateful Russians, to supply badly needed food, materials and armaments to fight the German occupation of their country. The only way to get such goods to the Russians was by the Arctic Convoys, where many men lost their lives having their ships sunk by the German forces.
Winston Churchill, the British Leader, knew that the big German Naval force needed to be removed, especially the Tirpitz and the battle cruiser Scharnhorst. To do this required skill and daring, from the flyers of the British Navy's aircrews of the Fleet Air Arm, flying aircraft that had hardly been updated in thirty years, the submariners who tried to sink Tirpitz on two man torpedo shaped chariots as in the 1958 film The Silent Enemy, and the claustrophobic four man mini submarine the X-craft, as depicted in the 1955 film Above Us The Waves. How the Norwegian Resistance used the Shetland Bus route, a successful ferry services of agents and equipment over the cold and dangerous sea to play their role in the sinking.
Partrick Bishop brings into this book other related missions to give a whole picture of the death of Tirpitz, including the St. Nazaire Raid by the British on the large Normandie dry dock with HMS Campbeltown, later made into the 1952 film, Gift Horse.
So many films made about this period of history, but until now I had never linked them together, More gaps now filled in, and many more left open. A great read.
Dam Busters James Holland
As a small boy, growing up in the post WW2 era, the stories of those who fought in the war, especially the 1955 film The Dam Busters, left a strong impression on my mind.
But somehow there was much missing from what I was told about the mission. I needed more details, to fill the gaps.
Living not far from Weybridge in the UK, the workplace of Barnes Wallis, the inventor of the bouncing bombs, Highball and Upkeep, and where Vickers Aviation's factories and workshops were, gave me the opportunity to visit the small museum, to see first hand some of the actual equipment used on the mission to bomb the dams of the German Ruhr Valley, bringing me closer to filling in the gaps, but James Holland in his book Dam Busters, gave some deeper appreciation of what actually took place. In addition his film, Dam Busters, produced with the BBC, brought life to his easy to read book.
The book tells of the struggles faced by many to bring about such a what was seen as an impossible mission, from Barnes Wallis, the RAF, the Admiralty, the aircrews, and those left behind.
The books tells how Guy Gibson, a young RAF Officer, having just finished a tour with Bomber Squadron 106, was asked to form a special squadron using the modified Lancaster 464, a four engined bomber aircraft, with highly trained crews. This had to be completed in a few weeks, before the May 1943 deadline, not knowing the target, nor the bomb which was to be used.
James Holland, brings into the book, personal recollections from those who took part, recalling personalities, private moments, even the death of Gibson's dog Nigger.
This RAF Squadron was to become known as 617 Squadron, The Dam Busters.
James Holland also looks at the legacy left after the mission, was it worth taking such a risk?
Well worth the read, to fill-in those gaps of knowledge we all have in our history.
A Radio Interview
I was invited to do another radio interview, and I present the broadcast here.
The interviewer, Rose Claire, is based in the USA and myself in the UK, so there is a slight delay in our conversation, plus due to a non functioning telephone link we went straight to air with no pre-interview.
Hope you enjoy, and remember you can hear more interviews on various subjects by clicking here.
Listen to internet radio with AshfordPublishing on Blog Talk Radio
Hawthorn Hedge under attack
Outside our apartment in Norbiton Hall, we have gardens, with trees, bushes and shrubs, flowers and lawns, making it a pleasant place to live.
Around the grounds we also have hedge rows mostly of hawthorn, and as long as it is cut and trimmed adds something to the ambience of the properties.
But, in the last couple of days, the hawthorne hedge has come under attack, from a hoard of black caterpillars.
They seem to have covered the hawthorn hedge with a thick covering of silky web, and beneath, the leaves are being eaten, leaving bare stalks.
What are these caterpillars?
What do they become?
Will the hawthorn hedge die?
Anyone any ideas please? Please leave a comment posting.
Isabella Plantation Richmond Park
An area of the Royal Park of Richmond Park waits to be discovered, a fenced-off garden, full of trees, plants, shrubs, colour, clearings, streams and ponds.
Originally fenced off in the 1700's to grow trees, this area was transformed in the 1950's by George Thomson and the head gardener at the time, Wally Miller. They cleared areas of plants to be replaced by rhododendrons and azaleas and other exotic shrubs and trees. Over the years since, streams and ponds have been added, including heathers, camellias and magnolias to name just a few.
So much bird life can be found within Isabella Plantation.
In April and May, Isabella Plantation is so full of colour, and I have tried to capture it on a short video.
I hope you enjoy.
Adult Achievement Awards 2012
I recently was present at the Kingston upon Thames, Rotary Club's Adult Achievement Awards, held once a year in the Royal Borough of Kingston's Guild Hall.
It is so humbling to listen to some of the stories, of those who had experienced difficulties in their life, yet overcame them to attain further education to better themselves.
Here is a small video made from the photographs I took of the evening.
SORRY, due to a member of staff offering-up potential objections from winners,
I have removed the video from public view, for now.
Presentations were handed out by the Deputy Mayor of the Royal Borough of Kingston, Barry O'Mahony, Club President Anne McCormack and Rotarian Peter Gray.
Dover Castle, English Heritage
The first sight many people see of the UK, or England in particular, are the White Cliffs of Dover. These are the chalk cliffs on the English side of the Strait of Dover, (in French Pas de Calais), and is the narrowest part of the English Channel at some 21 miles (34 km). At this distance it is possible on a clear day to see the coast of the other country, and at night see the lights over the other side, even as one local Dover person told me, the car lights as they travel along the French coast roads.
So, the first sight as people catching the ferry plying the Channel are the brilliant white chalk of the cliffs, and certainly on the many returning flights to the UK, as I look down to catch a glimpse of home, the white cliffs stand out above anything else on a cloudless day.
Atop the cliffs of Dover has been a significant position for man since before the Roman's invaded, as a lookout position to repel invaders, place for navigation, a place for communication.
In the 1180's, the then King of England and provinces of France, (King of England, Duke of Normandy and Aquitaine, Count of Anjou), Henry II, built a castle on top of the cliffs at Dover, and over the next 800 years, the buildings and grounds have been adapted to the changing needs and demands.
On my first visit to Dover Castle, I caught the high speed train (130 mph, 210 kph), from London, and arriving at Dover Priory train station it was a short walk, but very steep climb to The Castle. (Listen to my hypnotic The Castle CD).
My first impression was, "this is not a real castle, it is not in ruins", it is pristine unlike many other British castle I have visited. Despite the bombardment in the Second World War, it is said that Hitler had stated that the castle should not be attacked as he wanted it as a base for himself, the buildings where like they had just been completed.
So Henry II built his castle to impressed his many foreign guests, as was said, the castle was built as a bed and breakfast, an overnight hotel, as well as a garrison, and as people crossed from France, the elegance and richness would show what a powerful King he was.
Inside the battlement walls, the buildings are well maintained, it was still a military garrison until it was handed over to the Ministry of Works in 1963, and then onto English Heritage who now run the castle. But, it is not only the buildings above ground, there are extensive secret tunnels cut into the chalk, which housed up-to 2,000 persons in WWII, including a hospital, now mostly open to the public, exhibiting the history they have played over the years. The sights, sounds and smells are recreated to give a great understanding of what went on there.
In the Great Tower, there awaited another shock for me.
English Heritage have laid out displays, showing what it would/may have looked like in the days of Henry II. On level one, the guest bedroom, level two the Kings bedroom, throne room, and a small chapel attributed to Thomas Becket, who had been murdered by said agents of Henry II. Henry denied any involvement in the murder, and it is said this small chapel, still in use once a year, was Henry's penance to St. Thomas Becket.
The shock for me was the quality of the furniture, the vibrant colours of the paint and cloth. It looked too modern.
As with all the guides situated throughout the castle grounds, eager to engage and full of knowledge, I was able to enquire as to the authenticity of the exhibits, surely they could not be true, as all the movies (mostly American) I had seen of those times, I thought that everything would be dark and grey. The guide had found his ideal visitor, for he was able to give me all his acquired knowledge, the fact that the woodworkers had the skills to produce such stunning work, that they had the ingredients to produce dyes of such striking colours for paints, murals and cloths.
Wow, I was shocked, as were the other visitors I spoke to as we toured the castle. Perhaps the British were and are a colourful lot after all, with OK some French influence.
The Queen's Diamond Jubilee Barge
A quick bus ride from Kingston upon Thames to another town downstream on the River Thames, took me to Richmond upon Thames.
Looking down from the old Richmond Bridge to the boats moored on the banks of the Thames, I was taken aback at the sight of the Royal Barge, being prepared for the Queen's Diamond Jubilee river pageant to be held on June 3rd.
Costing £1m, this 28.6m (94ft) barge called Gloriana, powered by 18 oarsmen, will head the river pageant from Wandsworth to Tower Bridge, leading it is estimated 1,000 boats carrying some 20,000 people. It has been said it will take one and a half hours for the pageant to pass any one point.
Covered, in parts, with gold leaf, the vessel sparkled in the sunlight.
I wish boat I once owned, Mr Toots, had looked like The Royal Barge.
There Once was an Ugly Duckling
Walking along the Thames Path from Kingston upon Thames towards Richmond upon Thames, a sight took me back to a story by Hans Christian Andersen, a story that was told to me as a small boy, and to a song sung by Danny Kaye.
The Ugly Duckling
This little ball of fluff had three other siblings with it, not really standing out from the surrounding landscape, and it made me think of the work, my career, I have found myself involved with for nearly twenty years, and the people I have seen over this period of time.
Back in the 1990's, 80's and 70's, I was an expert in my work, working for computer manufacturers, I had to create computer systems to produce the results customers wanted. The customer would have a problem, perhaps to produce a payroll system, to capture sales figures at the point of sale on the shop floor, to record medical history in a hospital of patients, many many problems, and at that time, there was no packaged software, no apps available to provide them with the solution, so I would have to design, write and develop programs from scratch.
From knowing nothing about a subject, I had to learn what was being done manually by the customer, and transpose that to a computer system, I had to become an expert, to become one of those that had studied and worked in that area for years.
Yet I did not wish to become one of their group, or to replace them with myself.
In the late 1980's, again I had to become another expert in an area I had no knowledge, to know how the industry of manufacturing windows and doors and the making of glass worked, so that I could support the computer systems that were installed to help the workforce in the factories.
I had a need, the need to gain knowledge, to become an expert, to know what made things work, what were they? That need for knowledge has continued in my life.
In the early 1990's, I came across NLP, PhotoReading, Mind Maps and hypnosis, and the whole subjects fascinated me, I needed to know what was happening, what were these new ideas, how did they work, how could they make such major changes in people.
I had to understand, to become an expert, and I sought out the best to learn from, the originators.
One of my earliest computer clients, at the start of my working life, at a time I was learning new ideas, when I was honing my skills at becoming an expert, gaining the art of acquiring knowledge, in the 1970's, there was a company that had been in existence for over 100 years, and they wanted to move from quill pen to a computer. I listened to what they wanted, and produced a design for a computer system from my understanding of what was required.
It was at the presentation of my solution to the partners of the company, that I was told :- "Thank you Phillip, you have shown us a good computer solution, but, we have been doing this work for over one hundred years, and we are not going to change now, go away and come back with what we want."
I left the presentation deflated, I lost what confidence in myself I had in my abilities, I was not the expert I thought I was.
My manager saw this state I had gotten myself into, and helped me regain my confidence, to go out and acquire the knowledge to become an expert, to understand deeply down how things worked, why were things done in certain ways, what were the reasons certain results were wanted, because my manager saw in me a special person, an expert in the making.
I went back into the client, and with their permission, became one of them, to understand each process, the reasons why those processes were in place, and the results that came out of doing them.
Not only did I look at the client at work and learn, but I sought other companies that were in the same industry, and learnt from them too, adding to my knowledge.
So it has been with my work in NLP, PhotoReading, Mind Maps and hypnosis, I have continually sought-out knowledge, and with the permission and knowledge of the people I have worked with, incorporated this knowledge into my work, to become the expert, so to teach others.
I have watched others become experts, by taking their time to acquire knowledge and become an expert, to do the 10,000 hours that has been written about by Malcolm Gladwell and Matthew Syed.
Yet, it was at a recent training, that a participant spoke out with a smile on her face, "Now I understand. This is the second time I have done the course, and the first time it made no sense and did not work."
Puzzled by this statement, I asked her to explain, as I had never seen this person before, this was her first course with me, and I knew that I was the only trainer teaching this subject in the country.
"Oh," she said, "I went on a course with ............, he was a student of yours and decided to give the course himself, but I did not understand him."
How many people become "experts" before they have learnt the subjects?
Like the fluffy "Ugly Duckling" in the picture above, we all have to learn, gain knowledge from those around us, like from our parents, our mentors, our teachers, to do our 10,000 hours, before we can blossom out to become the majestic swan.
Majestic Swans from Ugly Ducklings
The Rotary Club of Kingston, University of Kingston Music Awards
Following the article Proud Moments at the Music Awards, I have put together a very simple video record.
Perhaps not West End Theatre standard, or a potential The Voice TV show entry, it has to be said it was not a very nice day to be singing out-of-doors.
The winner this year was Adam Hope, with his entry, "The Dying Christian". Adam, a very talented conductor is a 3rd year composition student at the university, working freelance in various jazz and light music ensembles, whilst he directs the Twist Choir at Kingston University.
Second place went to Nomi Helfensteller, with her entry of "We Still Got Time". Originally on an Erasmus exchange scheme from the Oldenburg University in Germany as a Masters student, Nomi is now a post-graduate student of Kingston University of music performance, having her own band and an enthusiastic member of local natural voice choirs.
Third place went to Matthew Bromley, with "Twilight Voices". Matthew is a 3rd year composition student, with a keen interest in music and theatre. He has spent many years as a musical director and has worked on several multimedia projects at Kingston University.
Relax for a minute in Isabella Plantation
Just relax for a minute with a small video taken of a stream in Isabella Plantation, Richmond Park on a cold and overcast day.
Music from Apple Final Cut Pro
Click here to see another video and photographs of Isabella Plantation.
Proud Moments at the Musical Awards
Perhaps not the best choice of venues to hold a musical recital on a cold day in May 2012, but this was the moment to announce the Kingston University Musical Awards in the ancient Market Place of Kingston upon Thames.
Once again the awards were given by the Rotary Club of Kingston upon Thames, and as I was asked to photograph the event, I paid attention to the people standing in the Market Place, observing their presence, and it was so obvious who were the composers of the music being performed by Kingston University's Chamber Choir, accompanied on the piano by Mr Michael Round.
From their faces, and those of their companions, the pride of what they had achieved was there to see, as they hung on every note and word being sung. Perhaps they had spent many hours and sleepless nights composing their entries into this annual event, but this day it had proven worth while, as their work was being performed in public.
Adam Hope, Kingston University Music Competition Awards
Kingston upon Thames Rotary Club 1st place 2012
Nomi Helfensteller, Kingston University Music Competition Awards
Kingston upon Thames Rotary Club 2nd place 2012
Matthew Bromley, Kingston University Music Competition Awards
Kingston upon Thames Rotary Club 3rd place 2012
The winner this year was Adam Hope, with his entry, "The Dying Christian". Adam, a very talented conductor is a 3rd year composition student at the university, working freelance in various jazz and light music ensembles, whilst he directs the Twist Choir at Kingston University.
Second place went to Nomi Helfensteller, with her entry of "We Still Got Time". Originally on an Erasmus exchange scheme from the Oldenburg University in Germany as a Masters student, Nomi is now a post-graduate student of Kingston University of music performance, having her own band and an enthusiastic member of local natural voice choirs.
Third place went to Matthew Bromley, with "Twilight Voices". Matthew is a 3rd year composition student, with a keen interest in music and theatre. He has spent many years as a musical director and has worked on several multimedia projects at Kingston University.
It was not only a proud moment for the winners of the University Music Awards, but also for the organiser Dr. David Osbon, Principal Lecturer and Head of Collegiate Music at Kingston University, who stood out with his flowing hair and his strong voice, and Kingston Rotary members there, especially Doreen Johnston and President Anne McCormack who presented the prizes.
By helping others, Rotary Club can inspire others to achieve and be proud of what they do, no matter at what level.
Perhaps writing this may inspire me to produce the video of the event.
Double Rainbow, Why?
In the UK, after having such warm and dry period of weather at the start of spring, and over the last couple of years a reduced level of rainfall leading to the South East of England being declared in a draught, with reservoirs at all time low levels, the last few days of April has been cold and wet, with some areas having record rainfall.
The sky turns black, blacker than I have seen for a longtime, and the rain comes down, and yet, typical of UK weather, the dark clouds soon pass, and we find ourselves in sunshine.
We call this weather April Showers.
So here we are, the dark cloud passes over in the early evening, yet to the west, the setting sun is in a cloud free sky, the result was another rainbow, not just one but a double rainbow.
I have never seen or realised there could be a double rainbow, so typically, I needed to know what causes this natural show.
A rainbow is caused by the light from the sun passing through the raindrops, resulting in a multicoloured arc. The light as it enters the droplets is refracted, split into the seven colours of the spectrum of light, as the picture above shows, being red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo and violet, with blue on the inside and red on the outside.
The process as the sunlight passes through the water droplets is that the light is refracted as it enters the droplets, then it is reflected back from the opposite side of the inside of the droplet, and as the light passes out of the droplet it is refracted again.
This was first described by Sir Isaac Newton, 1642 to 1727.
A double rainbow is a secondary arc outside the primary arc, and the colours are reversed, so the blue is on the outside, and is caused by the light being reflected twice within the droplets.
Now I know.
The Weather Changes in the UK at Hampton Court
From my home town of Kingston upon Thames, there is on the opposite bank of the River Thames the grounds of the Palace of Hampton Court, a largely open parkland area south of Bushy Park, the home of the Hampton Court Flower Show, and the historical Palace of Henry VIII.
On the north bank of the River Thames is an easy walk of about 3 miles (just under 5 km) following the river to Hampton Court called Badge Walk. Pleasure boats and ferries enjoying the leisurely pace of life, cruise passed on the river. Cyclists, joggers and walkers, out to exercise or just enjoy being out in the open air pass by, sometimes with a jolly "Hello" greeting. It is a pleasant walk on a sunny day for all.
For many weeks the weather in the UK has been like summer, even if it is only March/April, so much so that many parts of the UK are so short of water there has been a hosepipe ban introduced, rivers and reservoirs are running dry, the area has been declared officially in drought conditions.
And so I set out on a beautiful morning, to exercise myself on the walk, with the warmth of the sun putting an extra spring in my step. But as I neared the end of Badge Walk, coming to the entrance to the Royal Palace, the skies darkened, and I could see the ribbons of heavy rain falling in the near distance. Looking at the movement of the clouds and the direction of the wind, I realised and hoped the storm would pass to the north of me.
It had taken about an hour and a half to reach Hampton Court, time enough to earn a sandwich and a cup of tea in one of the cafe's the grounds, and then to take a leisurely stroll through some of the gardens of the Palace.
It is a little too early for most of the flowering plants to bloom, but there were beds and beds of daffodils, some already having flowered looking a little bedraggled, some just in their prime, carpets of yellow gently swaying in the sunshine.
Yes, the rain did not materialise, but the sky was darkening, this time the blackest black I could remember, a storm was brewing, and it was time to leave, the quicker the better, and the quickest was a bus ride back to Kingston.
It was a race against the storm, and having reached the shopping centre of Kingston I entered the Bentall Shopping Centre, the heavens opened, delivering hail stones and rain drops large enough to stop and elephant stampede, but I was dry.
This British weather. It is so changeable, and it seems to be getting more so, from desert heat to Arctic freezing, tropical rainstorms to parched landscapes.
HEMS Helicopter Emergency Medical Service
A group of Kingston upon Thames Rotary Club members, plus spouses, visited the Kent, Surrey and Sussex HEMS service, based at the old RAF airfield, home of the BBC's Top Gear program, test track for the car manufacturer McLaren, Dunsfold.
HEMS, (Helicopter Emergency Medical Service), is operated every day of the year from 7am to 7pm in daylight hours, with the hope in the near future to extend its' service into night flying too, is an emergency response to medical situations with a team of a pilot, a highly skilled doctor and a critical care paramedic on board. We were told that this particular HEMS team responded to 3 or 4 situations per day.
The service is a registered charitable self funding organisation, covering the three counties of Kent, Surrey and Sussex in conjunction with the NHS Ambulance Service which merged the three counties into one service, and has two MD902 Explorer helicopters, one based in Marden (Kent) and the other at Dunsfold (Surrey), and can reach any part of the SE England operational area it was said in 20 minutes.
Taking A&E (Accident and Emergency) directly to a patient within minutes has been proven a lifesaver, with even open heart surgery being performed onsite, then to get the patient directly to the most appropriate hospital in a sort time, affects the quality of survival.
Constantly looking for and raising funds to cover the £5 million per year cost is a host of volunteers, as the service receives no funds from the Government or National Lottery. For a small sum, you can enter the Kent, Surrey and Sussex HEMS own lottery by filling in a form obtainable from their web site.
The dedication of the people at Dunsfold was obvious, as the pilot, doctor and paramedic took time out to show us around the helicopter, explain what they do and answer out multitude of questions. In the summing-up session back in the HEMS building, I glanced outside to where the helicopter was parked, only to see the three of them washing the already gleaming machine, but having fun in the process. These lifesavers are just human like you and me, and need our support just as we may need theirs one day.
NLPNOW - Il META MODELLO – Predicati non Specificati
Predicati non Specificati
Il Meta Modello guarda ai model linguistici che noi costruiamo, i quali sono costruiti livello superficiale (per recuperate le informazioni) cancellate.
Un'affermazione che manca dei Predicati descrittivi di un'azione o di una cos a.
Affermazione:-
"Sta piovendo."
Può essere sfidata con:-
"Quanto forte sta piovendo?"
Affermazione:-
"Mi picchia."
Può essere sfidata con:-
"Quanto forte ti picchia?"
Storm Front, Rowland White
In his third book, Rowland White writes about a part of the Sultanate of Oman's history, and as in his other books, Vulcan 607 and Phoenix Squadron, what part the British military played in this period.
This well researched book, taken from interviews from the small number of people involved and previously unpublished and classified documents. He tells the story of how the repressive Sultanate of Oman was to be changed by Sultan Qaboos bin Said, who deposed his father Sultan Said bin Taimur, with some help of seconded British military personnel who formed the start of the Sultanate armed forces.
He describes how the enemy terrorists, called the Adoo, based in the neighbouring Yemen, being trained by and being supplied with arms by the communist Russians and Chinese, were being fought by the the Sultan of Oman's armed forces, which were mostly made-up of the British SAS, and pilots of the RAF flying modified Jet Provost training aircraft which then could deliver bombs and air to ground rockets.
The Adoo launched a major offensive against the town of Mirbat, being protected by nine SAS men, and how the SAS being nearly over-run and defeated, was saved by the aircraft of the Sultanate, the Strikemasters, helping to save the day.
A great read which gives more information of history, in this case of the early 1970's and that of the Middle East.
A surprise meeting
It is when you have expectations that there could be something around the corner, when you start to look for something unexpected, even at a subconscious level, and perhaps using Phillip's Sausage, that we are in for some surprises.
It could be looking above the shop windows to the roof-line that we will see some architecture from a bye gone era, unseen by the majority of shoppers, or below the shop front, lying on the footpath, a high valued bank note, or a small coin.
If we spend a little more time just being aware of what else is around us, seeing more than George Miller's 7+/-2 visual deletion, we can enrich our experiences.
In the photographs below were creatures that I had walked passed not seeing them only five minutes previously, preoccupied in my mind with other issues, it was not until I was walking back having resolved my thoughts and had a relaxed mind that I saw them.
The first one, a grasshopper was camouflaged in a hibiscus bush whilst I was in Malaysia, and the second again in Malaysia, a praying mantis, its legs held in a strange position, and a look on its' face as shocked of seeing a strange human as me seeing it.
Look beyond what you see, go below the surface level, chunk down, as things are not what they seem to be.
Just around the corner a surprise
You never know what is just around the corner, as you walk along the pathway of life.
In Richmond Royal Park, hidden away is the wonderful Isabella Plantation, offering a wide variety of trees, shrubs, heathers and plants, flowering and blooming at different times of the year, which is in contrast with the wider Royal Park, being open spaces, clusters of trees some old, some just planted, valleys with hidden waterways and deer, free to roam, eating their way around the park.
The difference in colours of the trees, bushes and shrubs within Isabella Plantation in the warm sunlight of a Spring day, is better than any painting masterpiece, for if you look deeply, often there is something special that you have not seen before, if you use Phillip's sausage there is so much more.
In contrast to the Isabella Plantation, walking across well trodden pathways of Richmond Royal Park itself, is an open landscape, and in the early spring devoid of much colour, but by keeping oneself aware, there is hidden beauty to be seen.
Hidden in an old tree a grey squirrel watches down as walkers pass beneath, waiting for them to go so it can descend to pick-up a seed to eat.
Then a flash of colour as parakeets take flight as they are disturbed from feeding by a passing walker.
How much do we miss about us, as we tread the old pathways, not concerned, not interested as to what may be around the corner?
A Pot of Gold At the End of a Rainbow
There is a saying, a myth, a fable in many cultures which says that there will be A Pot of Gold at the End of the Rainbow.
After a loverly Spring day in Kingston upon Thames in the UK, the sky darkened as the cloud became black. The weather forecast had predicted heavy showers perhaps with hail stones, and this looked like we were likely to be on the receiving end.
Yet that dark cloud did not cover the whole sky, for in the east, the sky was clear, and the sun shone bathing us in a bright sunshine.
Looking out of the window a wondrous sight caught the eye, a rainbow, in fact a double rainbow, with the end of the main rainbow seeming to end on the top of the block of flats which shone as if it had just been built.
Looking out of the window a wondrous sight caught the eye, a rainbow, in fact a double rainbow, with the end of the main rainbow seeming to end on the top of the block of flats which shone as if it had just been built.
It was in 2010 that a major fire had occurred in Madingley Tower, on the Cambridge Estate, which resulted in a refurbishment of the flats. (click to see video of the fire)
Now finished, and the flats reoccupied, perhaps the fortunes of those residents will change, as I hope there is a Pot of Gold at the End of the Rainbow for them.
The above photograph has been republished in the Kingston Guardian newspaper.
NLPNOW - Il META MODELLO – Performativa Perduta
English Version 
Türkçe versiyonu
La Performativa Perduta
Il Meta Modello (Meta Model English version) guarda
ai modelli linguistici che noi costruiamo, i quali sono costruiti al
livello
superficiale,
per recuperare le informazioni
cancellate.
Nelle
affermazioni o giudizi noi facciamo riferimenti a persone o cose o
azioni, ma la persona che fa o compie l’azione manca o non è
citata.
"Lei
mi colpisce."
La
persona che compie l’atto di colpire è omessa.
Come
Practitioner
di PNL,
noi abbiamo bisogno di sfidare l’affermazione o recuperare
l’informazione omessa, chi compie l’azione di colpire.
"Chi
precisamente ti colpisce?" "Colpito da chi?"
Ringraziamento speciale a Chiara Pozzoll per questa traduzione.
English Electric Lightning - The Lightning Boys
It was 1967 that I was invited to the Royal Air Force base at Biggin Hill to attend the five day RAF Officer Selection, to be tested and interviewed as to my suitability to become an RAF officer.
I had always had an interest in flying machines, being taken as a small boy to the now closed RAF Fradley also known as RAF Lichfield, for their open day to watch the Hurricanes, Spitfires and Lancasters doing their displays, laying in bed listening to the propeller powered aircraft flying over my parents house at fifteen minutes past midnight every night, thinking it maybe a Royal Mail flight, flying letters from London to the north of the UK. I seem to remember a Lancaster crash into a wooded area on the on the far side of the Fradley air display, but it could be my mind playing games with me.
I was interested in the aircraft, knowing as many schoolboys did in those days the flying heroes, the fictional pilots like Biggles, the manufacturers and aircraft models and names, both military and civilian. This interest has stayed with me, noticing an old abandoned English Electric Lightning jet in a scrap metal yard next to the A1 road near Newark as I drove from one computer customer to another, sitting at the end of a runway at RAF Conningsby watching Lightnings and especially Phantom jets take off and feeling the power of their after-burners, driving passed RAF Waddington marvelling at the delta winged bomber Vulcans waiting on their pads to take to the skies trailing long black dirty exhaust fumes to perhaps deliver the UK's nuclear bomb.
I still visit aircraft museums, seeking new knowledge, linking ideas, marvelling at the vast array of aircraft that British industry once produced, pushing the boundaries of knowledge.
English Electric P1A Lightning prototype at RAF Cosford, note air intake later to contain the radar.
Stubby Wings of Lightning P1A
English Electric Lightning ZF579 Saudi Arbian Air Force
Now being restored at the Gatwick Aircraft Museum
But going back to 1967, and my potential to become an officer in the RAF, not as a pilot but as an Air Traffic Controller. The five day selection by the RAF, tested the knowledge of the applications, their health, their fitness, their IQ, their team working, and we were being tested from the start as soon as we entered Biggin Hill's gate house.
I was allocated along with three other applicants a "Bat Man" to look after us and who showed us to our shared bedroom, to unpack and prepare ourselves for the evening meal. My room mates rather put me in my place as one was from Eaton School, one was an Air Commodores son, and another was a Prince from a Middle Eastern country. Me? I was a son of an electrician and Secondary School educated, a country yokel.
Now, I knew how to conduct myself at the dinner table, my parents had prepared me well for life, teaching me etiquette, social skills the does and don'ts, how to conduct myself in a high quality restaurant like The Ritz, how to hold a tea cup with the pointy little finger, but nothing had prepared me for so many knifes, forks and spoons at a place setting. Nothing had prepared me for so much silver wear on a table.
The next day the selection process continued, for example the medical tests, writing skills, aptitude tests, and for me in the afternoon an interview with the Camp Commander, the Chaplain, and a Senior Flying Officer.
Those whose turn it was to be interviewed waited in a small anti room, and one by one we were called in. Before I was called, my room mate from Eaton School went in, and I sat there wondering what was to come. My room mate came out white as a ghost, as if he had seen the end of the world, and this did not bode well for me. I asked him what was wrong, and he replied they asked him so many deep and difficult questions, including pointing to framed photographs of RAF aircraft hanging on the walls of the room, testing his knowledge of the RAF, and he said that he was asked what was the name of the missile hanging blow the wing of the fighter, and he did not know so they told him it was a Firestreak air to air heat seeking missile.
It soon became my turn to face the panel, and I was called into the interview room, sitting alone in the middle of the room facing the three senior RAF officers as if I was a capture spy, and they grilled me, asking deep questions, seeking out my knowledge and interest of the RAF.
Then the Chaplain pointed to a photograph hanging and asked what was the aircraft.
My heart jumped because there was only one aircraft like it in the world, the English Electric Lightning, a supersonic fighter jet, designed to intercept any incoming target, especially from the Soviet Union, as it was the height of the Cold War. With its' polished silver metal body, short swept back stubby wings, its' two Rolls Royce Avon jet engines mounted on top of each other making up the fuselage, and its' conical pointed radar dome mounted in the open round air intake at the front of the aircraft.
There was no mistaking this aircraft, I was in my element.
Then he pointed to the missile hanging from the wing, and with all the confidence in the world I answered, "It is a Firestreak Air to Air heat seeking missile". Thank you my friend from Eaton.
Today I finished reading the book by Richard Pike called the LIGHTNING BOYS, and it is a collection of stories, true tales from pilots of the English Electric Lightning aircraft, from flying virtually non stop from the UK to Singapore and the adventures along the way, to the need to constantly having to refuel midair by Victor airborne tankers. It gives insights of what the pilots did, their thoughts, their missions, and how they sometimes nearly died. It tells the tales of those involved flying the Lightning from the first test Lightnings, the P1 and P1A (see photograph above) in 1954, to the decommissioning from the RAF in 1988.
This book is highly entertaining and informative as it tells the stories of those who flew this iconic aircraft, with little or no technical details, it makes an easy read for all, the general reader and the enthusiast.
In the book it tells of an RAF Lightning pilot who as a youth wanted to join the RAF, and was invited to go to Biggin Hill to the Officer Selection along with a fellow student from his school. His school friend, he said lasted a day before being sent home. I lasted two days.
I packed my bags and caught the train back home, at a time when there were no mobile phones, in fact a time when most homes did not have their own phones, so I did not inform my parents of my impending early arrival from RAF Biggin Hill.
On reaching home, there was no-one there, but I knew where my parents would be, at my Aunty and Uncle's house, so I went there.
Entering the house, the family were sitting around the table, and my father looked up and said. "Oh you are back, we were expecting you."
Another lesson they taught me, to aim high, go for my dreams, but to know my limitations sometimes, and accept failure gracefully, and just because the RAF was not for me, that there would be other places, things and jobs that would be for me.
Time Out
It seems that we all have our problems, health, money, relationships, work, family, the list goes on and on, and the more we think of them the worse the problem becomes and the worse we feel.
Going through some health issues myself at the moment, I have not really told many people about them, I kept my aches and pains to myself and my doctor, until there came a time when I had to divulge my little secret aches and pains to those close to me and loved ones, as I was told I would have to go into hospital and would need some home support for at least twenty-four hours.
Are people really interested in my aches and pains? Not really, they have their own to dwell in and to solve.
"How are you? is a question asked of us when we meet an acquaintance.
"Oh the pain in my posterior is giving me so such problems, I can't sleep or sit down."
"Yes you are like the pain in my neck" the acquaintance is probably thinking to themselves, "if only I could get rid of this pain."
In the hospital ward as I waited to be taken to the operating theatre, feeling such a fool for nearly passing out, I reflected on the other patients, and realised that they were in a far worse state than me health wise. I even got to the stage where I asked myself if I should have been in the hospital in the first place, as my symptoms were nothing compare to others.
I went through the procedure and investigation, and yes I need work done upon me, but in the meantime I have to get on with life, to get my strength up again to be ready to give my next courses and talks, to cook, to clean, to face other problems as they surface, and to be there for others to help them through their problems.
And so I found myself in another Royal Park near to where I live, Bushy Park, which lays across the road from Hampton Court the palace of Henry VIII.
Bushy Park is a large area of open land, with scatterings of woodland, inter-linked lakes fed by small rivers that will eventually flow into Hampton Court and then eventually into the River Thames. There are fenced enclosed gardens to relax in, and even a Water Garden recently renovated back to its' original early 1700's spender, and the whole Royal Park has a history going back perhaps 4,000 years.
It was time for me to have some time out, to go for a long walk, to get some fresh air in my lungs, to take exercise, to take in a different perspective on life.
As I walked across the wide open parkland on a crisp spring day, along well trodden pathways once taken by many others over the thousands of years, my mind emptied of all my problems as I noticed and realised that nature had been there and will be there beyond my brief visit, and that I was part of this natural vista, emerging from the winter hibernation, to sprout new leaves, to blossom, to spread and create new life ideas.
I saw the deer relaxing amongst the dead old brown bracken that was so green and lush last year, I saw people sitting having picnics, geese feeding on the green grass, I marvelled at a tree festooned with delicate pink blooms, and watched the never ending cascade of water in the Water Garden.
The cascading Water Garden in Bushy Park
I needed that time out, to relax and reflect that even though I am now sitting at my computer typing this blog, life still goes on around me, the water still cascades in the Water Garden, the the deer will still be there in Bushy Park taking things easy, that the pink blooms will soon drop away, but will be replaced by new sights just as beautiful if only we look for them, and that my problem is just my problem and will soon be resolved, to be replaced by a better future.
I needed time out to get out of my perceived pain and problems and see the world about me, to be there for those who are worse off than me, to lend an open ear and shoulder to cry on, to help them to come to terms with and resolve their problems, their fears, for that is my job, my desire, to help others to help themselves.
Riverside, Kingston upon Thames
Tomorrow I start my journeys again, to Kadikoy, Istanbul to give a NLP Master Practitioner course, a PhotoReading, Memory and Mind Maps course to the public and a number of companies. So today I have been catching up on arranging hospital appointments, banks, course facilities, the blog, relaxing.
I love walking, especially by the Thames River (click to see river film) in Kingston upon Thames, along the Queens Promenade, which links Kingston to Thames Ditton and Surbiton.
The number of swans, geese, ducks living on the river is amazing. How can the river support so much wildlife? Perhaps the walkers feeding them bread. (see photograph of swans in a large number).
Walking along the Queens Promenade towards Surbiton, boats are moored to the riverside, some belonging to tour operators and ferry companies. Parr Boats run a ferry from here to Hampton Court, the Royal Palace of Henry VIII. If you do not want the slow leisurely relaxing cruise, you can always walk, about an hour along the other side riverside pathway. You can catch a small ferry boat for £1, to take you across, but it seems only Saturday and Sunday, plus Bank Holidays.
At the mooring of Parrs Boats and the ferry there is an old air-raid shelter that had been converted into a small refreshment bar. It has been established here for a few years, with walkers and regulars stopping by for a sandwich, a slice of homemade cake, a drink, an ice cream and friendly faces, and has been refurbished by John, an ex local policeman, full of joy, willing to join in a conversation.
Riverside Cafe, Quality Thames-side Refreshments, with John is still developing the area, and actively seeks ideas from his potential clients.
It is only a small walk from Kingston's town center, but the warm welcome, the quality refreshments at a reasonable price, the chance to sit and drink a warming hot chocolate, or coffee made from locally roasted coffee beans from Coffee Bay, watching the passing walkers and boats, makes one happy to be alive.
It is good to support local businesses and to relax whilst doing so.
I love walking, especially by the Thames River (click to see river film) in Kingston upon Thames, along the Queens Promenade, which links Kingston to Thames Ditton and Surbiton.
The number of swans, geese, ducks living on the river is amazing. How can the river support so much wildlife? Perhaps the walkers feeding them bread. (see photograph of swans in a large number).
Walking along the Queens Promenade towards Surbiton, boats are moored to the riverside, some belonging to tour operators and ferry companies. Parr Boats run a ferry from here to Hampton Court, the Royal Palace of Henry VIII. If you do not want the slow leisurely relaxing cruise, you can always walk, about an hour along the other side riverside pathway. You can catch a small ferry boat for £1, to take you across, but it seems only Saturday and Sunday, plus Bank Holidays.
Riverside Cafe, Quality Thames-side Refreshments, with John is still developing the area, and actively seeks ideas from his potential clients.
It is only a small walk from Kingston's town center, but the warm welcome, the quality refreshments at a reasonable price, the chance to sit and drink a warming hot chocolate, or coffee made from locally roasted coffee beans from Coffee Bay, watching the passing walkers and boats, makes one happy to be alive.
It is good to support local businesses and to relax whilst doing so.
Spring in the UK
Relaxing and recovering from my visit to the hospital, it was good to take a walk beside the River Thames in Kingston upon Thames on a sunny spring day.
Walking along the Thames Pathway, stopping for a refreshing cup of tea at the Riverside Cafe, passed boats moored on the pontoons, sailing boats enjoying the light wind, and other people taking in the clean air, my eyes caught the cherry blossom above me, freshly blooming and contrasting with the blue cloudless sky.
It's good to be alive among the wonders of the world, large and small, and yet realise how fragile and short life is.
Let us all enjoy the day, for we do not know what tomorrow will bring.
NLPNOW – Il Meta Modello
English Version Türkçe versiyonu
Noi parliamo alle persone, comunichiamo, usando parole, gesti, movimenti del corpo, movimenti degli occhi, tonalità; è il modo in cui ci capiamo l’un l’altro, trasmettiamo e acquisiamo le informazioni. È’ una completa esperienza del corpo. Usiamo il linguaggio per esprimere i nostri pensieri e le nostre esperienze.
Abbiamo visto nell’articolo "NLPNOW - La Mappa non è il Territorio" il modello di acquisizione delle informazioni di George Miller 7 +/- 2 e nell’articolo "NLP Now – Struttura Superficiale Struttura Profonda" che la mente umana cancella, distorce e generalizza le informazioni, mentre assorbiamo o introduciamo informazioni e mentre comunichiamo i nostri pensieri ed esperienze alle altre persone.
Surface Structure ='s Struttura superficiale
Deep Structure ='s Struttura profonda
Sono state le osservazioni e gli apprendimenti di Richard Bandler e John Grinder, i co-fondatori della PNL, da Milton H Erickson, Virginia Satir e altri, che li aiutarono a comprendere il linguaggio, le regole che usiamo, la grammatica linguistica e transformazionale, che generarono il Meta Modello e portarono al libro del 1975 “La Struttura della Magia”.
Il Meta Modello ci dà la struttura per notare cosa manca dalla nostra comprensione del mondo o da quella delle altre persone e ci dà le domande che aiutano noi o loro a recuperare queste informazioni mancanti.
Quando vediamo qualcosa (V - visivo), ci sono miliardi di pezzi di informazioni che ci bombardano in ogni momento. Leggendo questo articolo, ci sono le parole sullo schermo o sul foglio se hai stampato l’articolo. Ugualmente le parole che hai già letto, le parole che ancora devi leggere, l’area intorno all’articolo, i muri della stanza, il pavimento, il soffitto, i colori, tutti gli elementi sul tavolo; questi stanno ancora venendo assorbiti nel tuo cervello, sebbene tu non ti renda consapevolmente conto di tutte queste cose.
Tu cancelli queste cose dalla tua consapevolezza.
Mentre stai leggendo questo articolo, ci sono suoni (A- auditivo) intorno, forse suoni di macchine, traffico, il suono del frigorifero in cucina, i suoni dell’orologio. Molti di questi suoni sono cancellati dalla nostra consapevolezza, sebbene vengano assorbiti all’interno della nostra mente.
Ci sono odori (O - olfattivo) nella stanza o nello spazio che stai occupando, forse la cera che qualcuno usa per pulire, forse il profumo del pranzo che viene cucinato. Tu non sei consapevole di questi finché non vengono citati.
I sapori (G - gustativo) nella tua bocca, finché io non li ho citati, forse non ne eri consapevole.
Ugualmente per i tuoi piedi sul pavimento (K - cinestetico). Finché io non ho citato la sensazione, uno supporrebbe che non ci sia alcuna conoscenza consapevole di ciò. I capelli sulla tua testa. Sei ora consapevole dei capelli?
Noi cancelliamo molte informazioni o dettagli mentre acquisiamo informazioni. Sebbene a un livello non consapevole queste informazioni vengano assorbite, il nostro mondo consapevole è privato di queste informazioni.
Il lavoro di un Practitioner di PNL è aiutare i clienti ad arricchire il loro mondo con queste informazioni mancanti, ad andare alla struttura profonda, a fare un chunk down per acquisire conoscenza e comprensione. Questo sarebbe necessario e appropriato.
Quando una persona o un cliente comunicano informazioni, loro (e noi) cancellano anche informazioni. Per esempio:-
“Colin ha letto un libro.”
Ci sono molte informazioni mancanti: quale Colin, dove ha letto il libro, che libro ha letto, quanto velocemente ha letto, lui ha Fotoletto il libro?
Ancora, il lavoro di un Practitioner di PNL è acquisire o recuperare queste informazioni cosicché noi o il cliente abbiamo una migliore comprensione di cosa viene detto.
Quando il cliente o noi riceviamo queste informazioni, dobbiamo andare in una Ricerca Transderivazionale, andare nelle nostre esperienze passate per dare un senso, per avere una comprensione di cosa è stato detto; e spesso distorciamo questa informazione originale per far quadrare il nostro mondo, la nostra comprensione.
Considera l’affermazione seguente:
“Lei mi ha colpito.”
Che cosa capisci? Tu raggiungi una comprensione di cosa si voglia dire con questa affermazione.
La comprensione che ne risulta probabilmente diventa la verità per come tu la comprendi; noi quindi generalizziamo questa convinzione come fosse la verità, e non lo è, poiché ci sono molte informazioni mancanti, come quanto forte lei mi ha colpito, con cosa mi ha colpito e dove mi ha colpito.
Usando il Meta Modello, noi possiamo fare un chunk down, andiamo nella struttura profonda, recuperiamo le informazioni mancanti per ottenere un’immagine piena, una piena comprensione.
Articoli che indagano i modelli linguistici usati nel Meta Modello. Clicca qui.
Ringraziamento speciale a Chiara Pozzoll per questa traduzione.
Passing Out at Sight of Blood
I am not a wimp, a weak person, but over the last week I have had two experiences which made me feel that way, to feel an idiot.
A few days ago, I was preparing some food for a meal and I pricked my little finger with a sharp knife, and as you will see from the mark on the end of my little finger, it was minor.
A little cut on my finger
A little bead of blood appeared, but no problem, wash it away and continue (yes with caution not to contaminate the food) with preparing the food.
Within a few moments, I felt my head going light, the room beginning to spin.
I had to sit down.
The blood drained from my face, my lips and face turned grey, and I broke out into a cold sweat, as my blood pressure dropped.
I lay down with my feet higher than my head to get the blood flow back into my head.
There was nothing I could do to stop this irrational reaction to that small little cut. I am not afraid of blood, I can watch operations on TV, I have blood drawn at the doctors and hospitals for tests without problems, but why, oh why, is this happening to me?
Two days ago I was in hospital to undergo a procedure called an angiogram, and internal investigation of my heart. It is the second one I have had, so I know what is going to happen, and was quite prepared for it, and had little or no stress. As I waited to be registered at 7:30am, waiting with another gentleman, I was reassuring him, smiling, joking, putting him at ease.
They needed a blood sample from me, and the ward sister came along with the tools of her trade, telling me she would put a cannula into my arm, so that she could drain some blood for testing, and that the cannula would stay there during the procedure just incase they needed to give me some medication.
As I sat in a chair next to the hospital bed, waiting for her to start, I told her of my experiences of nearly passing out, just to warn her, and that the last time they did this I had a reaction.
She laughed at me, asking if I was OK, which I was. I felt fine. I did not look at her putting the cannula into my arm, and was laughing and joking with her.
Then it hit me.
My head began to swim, I broke out into that cold sweat, turning grey, and the ward sister called for help. I was lain down on the bed, feet higher, just like the last time.
I felt like an idiot, a wimp. I was out of control of my own body. I tried everything I teach in my courses to relax myself, I tried Fred, Antonio, Mustafa, deep breathing, relaxing, nothing I could do would relieve the situation. The irrational behaviour had to run its' course.
Why do 10% - 20% of the population experience passing out at the sight of blood?
There is a theory that this physiological response is genetic, inherited from our parents. But I remember my father having many an injury without any ill effects, and on occasions my mother cutting herself with reacting. And, where would a woman be if every month she had this reaction?
Another theory says that the reaction to the sight of blood stems from our far distance past, from our cave man days, becoming an evolutionary outcome. This theory says that when under attack, the defender would faint, falling to the ground pretending death, the blood would drain away from the face, looking like a dead body, thus the attacker would cease the attack.
This fainting strategy, could also help stem the flow of blood to an injured part, thus reducing blood loss, increasing the survival rate.
When the danger had passed, the person could get on with their life, producing offspring which would be passed-on to the next generation, producing a survival gene.
Some other theories say it is a phobia, and irrational response to a situation, the sight of blood, a learnt experience. If this is so, then I should be able to deal with it as I do with other clients in a couple of seconds.
But no.
Oh Poo Poo, I hope I can get rid of it before my next visit to hospital in the next few weeks for an angioplasty, to have a couple of stents placed in my dear old heart.
It is like a Summer's Day in Brighton
This week will not be a great week for me personally, I have a couple of health issues which need resolve, so to find that the weather here in the UK is just like summer, and it is still only March, what better way is there to enjoy the present day and make the best of what the world has to give me.
With not a cloud in the sky, a trip to Brighton was called for. In less than two hours I could be by the sea, a place that I find invigorating, relaxing, empowering and enjoyable, just two train journeys, rather than driving down in my RX7, spending money on petrol, parking fees and the chance of endless traffic jams. Unknown to me, there were problems on the train network, which meant catching three trains, and wasted time waiting on station platforms for delayed trains.
Take a deep breath in, close my eyes, and RELAX.
At last the train arrived in Brighton, and on exiting the station, there infront of me, down the long road from the station to the seafront, the shimmering sea could be seen, and strange feeling of boyhood joy overcame me, I wanted to jump for joy, and I set out on what seemed a never ending walk, past shops and restaurants that had little interest for me. I wanted to be by the sea.
I was amazed at the number of people that were on the pebbled beach, sunning themselves, just relaxing. Perhaps they were some of the many foreign students that seem to go to Brighton to learn English, or unemployed or retired people, or people just like me, wanting to rejuvenate themselves?
Just walking up and down the promenade and beside the beach, just being there, being part of humanity brought me back to normality.
Brighton seafront and the Brighton Pier, March 2012
A walk down the Brighton Pier, one of the long jetties running out into the sea in the UK, which often have theatres, restaurants and amusement arcades on them, where people walk along, sometimes stopping to relax in a deck chair, perhaps imagining that they are sitting on an ocean liner sailing the seven seas on a cruise, gave me the chance to breath fresh air into my lungs.
I availed the amusement arcades, because I was hungry, and where better to go and have the traditional British meal of fish-n-chips than on Brighton Pier.
Great British food, Fish n Chips
I have not had fish and chips for many months, and although it was pointed out to me that deep fat fried for is bad for the health, it was also said that once in a while was OK. So why not, I may not be here next week, and after all, fish is good for you.
Why is it that everything I do not like is always good for me?
My mother always used to tell me to eat the vegetables as it would make my hair curl, or eat the bread and butter as it would make me grow into a big strong boy?
My hair is still straight, and yes I have grown into a big boy, but that is because I have eaten too much bread and butter and that has left me overweight.
So much for believing everything my mother told me as being true, including Santa Claus. coming down the chimney on Christmas Day, and the tooth fairy leaving me money under my pillow after I lost a tooth.
What a glorious day out. Now I can face what the week is going to throw at me.
Guest Judge at Speaking Competition
At the end of the evening, it was a privilege to be asked as one of the judges of the Inter-House Public Speaking Competition at the Richard Challoner School in New Malden, Surrey, to present the awards and give the summing-up speech.
Along with two other judges, I witnessed the very high standard of presentations, coached by their teachers and especially Tanya Cheema, with talks entitled from "Why I Didn't Have Time to Write a Speech", to "Blood, Oil and Captain Hook".
Although the speakers were allowed only 2.5 minutes, with penalty points if they were outside this time, the content was well researched, the talks' structure was well defined, and the delivery was superb and articulate.
I remember as a young boy many many years ago being asked to join the Lichfield Cycling Proficiency Committee, and then being entered into a Public Speaking competition. That single experience had prepared me for the work I do now, giving talks, speeches and courses all over the world.
The evenings competition at the Richard Challoner School and the Youth Speaks Competition run by Kingston upon Thames Rotary Club, will stand the boys in good stead in later life, giving them confidence, boosting self esteem, and preparing them for being able to present and debate in their future education, business and private life.
Tortoise, Turtle or Terrapin
As a small boy, I had many pet animals, a budgerigar, a guinea pig, a dog and a tortoise, each of them still holding a fond spot in my memory, the budgie sitting on my finger its' claws holding tight, the big black bulging eyes of the guinea pig, my dog racing up to me with such excitement after we went to pick him up from a weeks stay in a kennel and he pee'd up my leg, to the hard shell of the unfriendly just give me food tortoise.
There have been animals in my life through friends, the media, TV, films etc, Lassie the sheepdog, Kaa the hypnotic snake in Jungle Book, Skippy the Bush Kangaroo, Flipper the dolphin, and then the Ninja Turtles.
Many of my friends had pets, one in particular had a terrapin who I called Fred. Even though Fred showed no friendliness to humans, I had a soft spot for him, arranging for him to have a larger home with a little plastic palm tree and in which we added a "beach" of pebbles so he could, if he wished, pull himself out of the water.
I was a little too old to get caught-up with all the hype and commercialism of the Ninja Turtles, but my mind certainly went back to the children's cartoon TV series as I stood on a beach in the Galápagos Islands observing the tracks of the turtles as they made their way from the Pacific Ocean to lay their eggs.
Also on the Galapagos Islands I visited the giant tortoises, seeing Lonesome George, (click to see pictures) the last male specimen of his breed, or so it may seem, as researchers are trying to find him a mate.
It was visiting a friends' and colleagues home in Italy with anticipation, as he had told me he had two turtles. I expected that in his back garden there would be a ornamental pond, very much like the Kek Lok Si, Goddess of Mercy Temple, in Penang Malaysia, which has the Liberation Pond full of turtles.
It was then that I started to wonder, what is the difference between a tortoise, a turtle and a terrapin? What environments do each live in.
The biggest differences between the three is the environments they live in. Essentially a tortoise is a land dwelling reptile, a turtle is a sea water, ocean dwelling reptile, whereas a terrapin is a freshwater or brackish water (river estuary) dwelling reptile. Although in many countries there is no distinction made between the three species, they are all referred to as turtles, or testudines, or chelonian, which the latter is often used by veterinarians and scientists. In Spain for example they use the word "tortuga" for all three, but add-on the the descriptive word of "terrestre" for tortoise, "marina" for turtles and "de rio" for terrapins.
Another distinction can be found in their feet. Tortoise have short stubby legs whereas, turtles and terrapins will have webbed feet, with ocean going turtles having developed flippers to propel themselves through the water.
For the northern hemisphere countries where tortoises are not a native animal or reptile, they are a protected animal, and only held as pets, but in hotter counties it is common to see wild tortoises roaming the countryside. It came as quite a shock to me the first time I saw a wild tortoise in Gaziantep and Antalya (Turkey).
So recently I saw the tortoise in the photograph below roaming my back garden in Bukit Mertajam, Malaysia. I have never seen a tortoise with markings on its' head, two yellow stripes.
Can anyone tell me the breed of tortoise please?
What breed of Malaysian tortoise is this please?
The Roundabout of Life, is it Towards or Away?
Today I watched a donkey working at a watermill, it was just walking round and round in a circle, attached by a harness to a beam, which was in turn attached to some simple gearing system that operated a pump, pumping water from a well to irrigate the farmers fields and crops.
For hours on end, the donkey walked this never ending circuit, like the second hand of a clock, forever passing the same number 12 at the top of the hour, time and time again, forever moving but getting nowhere, and like that second hand of the clock just showing the passing of time, getting nowhere.
The donkey was like that hamster or mouse on its' wheel in a cage, spinning round and round and getting nowhere, but at least the donkey was pumping water, whereas the hamster or mouse is expending energy turning the wheel for the gratification of the animal's owner. Like riding a roundabout in the fairground, getting nowhere.
I see many people on a similar wheel, roundabout or treadmill, doing the same thing time and time again as they progress through the short lifetime we have on this earth, never progressing, never learning new concepts and ideas, never learning from the mistakes they make, never experiencing new things and seeing the beauty that life can give.
They are passing their time, never getting anywhere.
Perhaps they are trapped in a relationship, in a family situation, in an employment that restricts their future, or in a culture that is very restrictive, never open to new ideas to other peoples points of view, much like a lion in a zoo cage will have nothing to do but to walk round and round in their little world of understanding, forever in frustration and depression, following the same endless pathway they have made in that small world or enclosure.
As I look about me, I see people not only travelling the same pathway they have had inflicted by others upon them, or have placed upon themselves, but they are also being led, like that donkey, by a carrot hanging infront of his nose. Always that carrot is a small distance away, just out of reach, they are hoping that that tasty carrot will be theirs, that their never ending treadmill will lead to that Utopia one day, hoping that they will reach their Xanadu, their dream led by the Muse Kira, (the Greek mythical Muse's real name was Clio, one of nine sisters, Kira being the assumed name), the daughter of the Greek God Zeus, or as in the poem of the same name, Xanadu, by Samuel Taylor Coleridge, leading to the pleasure garden which Kubla Khan created in the Chinese province in China.
These people are being lead by ideals, promises, dreams, often created by others, like tales of the streets of big cities being paved with gold, where riches can be anyones, just by the taking, but often, just as they are about to reach their dream, it is taken away from them by those that created them, the chance of a kiss by a beautiful princess only to find that it is to be that donkey's backside.
Sometimes I notice the farmer was walking behind the donkey as it worked that water mill, round and round that never ending circle, and the farmer held a stick in his hand with which he occasionally tapped the donkey's rump, just enough to inflict a little pain, which spurred the donkey on, and as it is like most animals and humans, they do not like pain.
We are not only driven by dreams, but sometimes we are also driven by avoidance, to move away from something, some place, some issue, as when people experience fears or phobias. The easiest way to stop a phobia or fear people often find, is to avoid the experience which causes the phobia, to avoid that place where a spider or snake could be, not to enter that high building or walk across that bridge. Experience has shown though, that by avoiding the fear or phobia, it only re-enforces them making them worse.
In the past I had a client who had a phobia of tunnels, especially those where the exit could not be seen when entering perhaps because there was a bend in the middle, or it was very long. This lady's train station had such a tunnel, and to get to the other side of the station from where she lived she would travel a very long distance to avoid using the tunnel. Participants on my courses will have heard of this lady, and I forgot to tell them that after seeing me that once, she overcame her phobia.
To avoid pain and hurt may not necessarily be negative as some people presuppose, thinking that such a person is always negative, never a "go getter", but avoidance can often lead to a positive outcomes or results.
Many rich people have the fear of living in poverty, not to have the flash car, not to go on that exotic holiday, not to be recognised as someone of high standing, not to be loved. These people are driven by the negative outcomes, the pain of not being rich, and strive to create the wealth, the business, to get the qualifications to bring the knowledge of how to achieve those riches.
Perhaps it is the fear of being left alone, not to have a relationship, that drives people to become over friendly, to draw others into a relationship with them, only to find that the person they are left with is not the person they had expected as a life partner, but then when deciding to leave that relationship, they hurt the ones who had been drawn in by the carrot.
Others choose to enter situations, relationships for the pure pleasure of a negative outcome.
As a small child, I am sure you remember when you lost your first teeth, the Milk Teeth as they are known in the UK? Did you put the tooth under your pillow when you went to bed for the fairies to take and leave a sum of money?
They became wobbly, loose, as the new tooth pushed up from beneath. I remember using my tongue or my fingers to move the tooth backwards and forwards, only stopping pushing or pulling when I felt that twinge of pain, but somehow I enjoyed that little pain, I was reassured that soon the fairies would be visiting, and I became addicted to moving the tooth until I got the pain, pushing the limits and the boundaries.
I observe people who have injured themselves, and keep touching the area just to make sure the injury is still there I am sure to experience that little twinge of pain.
I see many people who come to me for help, and insist on telling me how ill they are, how "no-body loves them", how depressed they are, they take great joy and satisfaction from re-experiencing their pain and sorrow.
I watch the joggers, panting, sweating, red in the face, as they push themselves imagining they are on yet another London Marathon race. I look into the windows of the myriad of gym clubs around he world, and see people rowing imaginary boats, running down imaginary roads on the treadmills, getting nowhere like the donkey, yet pushing for better times, longer imaginary distances covered.
I had a friend Richard, who was/is a fitness fanatic. Every lunchtime he was in the gym, every night he was in the gym after his hour long run or swim, every morning he would arrive at his desk wearing his tight lycra cycle racing outfit, beads of sweat forming on his forehead and dripping from the end of his nose, his eyes bulging through the extreme energy he had exerted ridding his bike to work, imagining he was wearing the Yellow Shirt on the Tour de France.
Why did Richard and other put themselves through such pain and suffering?
Some say it is to become fitter, healthier. But, when I asked Richard what happens when he does not go to the gym, does not cycle to work, he said he feels bad, that he just has to, to feel good. Research has shown that excessive exercise places the body under stress, and the body responds by producing the addictive substances called beta-endorphins.
So, the pain, the physical stress in the body makes the pituitary gland secrete the hormones of endorphins which are chemically related to Morphine. The name "endorphin" is often referred to as "endogenous morphine", a chemical that binds to certain receptors in the brain, and act as a pain killer and become highly addictive, also known to reduce the appetite, decrease depression and anxiety, giving that feeling of euphoria.
It is no wonder some people are drawn towards pain and suffering and become addicted to such acts, as when the body experiences that stress or pain, chemicals are released to give them a high.
Yet others are drawn to pain because it draws attention to them from others. In extreme cases, people will mutilate themselves by cutting themselves, pulling their hair out. These cases are wide ranging and have multiple causes not to be discussed here, but in some cases it is what is called a "cry for help", they want attention. We often tell our family, friends and colleagues what a terrible time we have had, bringing back, reliving the experiences only to bring that pain back, for to relive, to talk about, to think about something, we will have to experience the pain again.
So we are all driven towards something, a reward, a pleasure, a new car or dress, a visit to the theatre, or we are driven away from something, to avoid a dislike, pain, discomfort, certain food, a person or place.
In NLP terms (see the NLP Glossary click) there are the Towards People and there are the Away People.
When reading some books on NLP on the subject of Towards and Away People, the author says that a person is either one or the other. When teaching the subject, I will explain the concept, and ask for a show of hands who are Towards and who are Away, and too many people categorise themselves as only one or the other, because that is what they have been told and so believe.
When you analyse a person, ask them questions, and you will ascertain in one situation they will be Towards, yet in another they will be an Away from person.
For me and food, if you mention chocolate cake or ice cream and the chances of eating some, I would do anything for you, I would be your slave, I would sing a song for you, yet the mention of a fish meal would find me making all the excuses I could not to sit down with you.
For chocolate cake and ice cream I am a Towards person, fish and Away from person.
Yet, if we take about fish in another context, I am Towards person. As a Master Scuba Diver, I have had over 600 dives around the world and have swam with some amazing fish, some dangerous like the Stone Fish and some humorous like the Clown Fish. (click her to see more underwater photographs)
A Stone Fish or Scorpion Fish and a Clown Fish taken in the Red Sea off Jeddah, Saudi Arabia
if you cannot see the Stone Fish click here
Some people will draw others into their world by promising dreams, ideas, Towards, other people will drive people along by planting thoughts of suffering if they do or do not do something, Away.
Be aware of how we are influenced by others and how we influence others. Be aware of that carrot being dangled in front of you, or that stick prodding you onwards.
One up, All up
Whilst watching people as I usually do, my mind went back to my Mother.
Sitting here, waiting in an airport lounge for my flight to be called, I watched a small family group trying to amuse themselves, to help time pass by. As seems to be the norm these days, electronic games play a large part in keeping the human race amused, although there are book shops to be found, I hardly see people with their noses stuck into a good book, for even real paper books are being replaced by electronic aids.
Each member of the family had their own gadget, each pulling faces as they won or lost a point, each moving their body in-tune with the movement of the game.
The mother must have finished her game, for she switched it off, put it away, and started talking to the father who was extremely unhappy by his wife's interruption.
The two children were clearly oblivious to the interaction between the mother and father, as they were to the world passing them by, an assortment of human life, passengers flying here and there.
It was then the turn of the children to have the attention of the mother. At first they ignored their mother's words, their minds and fingers were fighting aliens in the far reaches of space, but her foghorn of a voice and a not so gentle tap no their legs got their attention, with an "Oh Mom, I was winning that game."
You see, mother was hungry, and wanted to stock-up with sweets and snacks for the flight, and now was the time for her to go to the food retail outlets, which now vie for our money, to make our flying experience something to be remembered, to make extra money for the airport operators, for us to buy something we never knew we wanted, like that book that will end up with the rest of the books to be read some other time.
With reluctance, the father and the two children packed their electronics away, and followed mother to buy the snacks, dragging their feet, mumbling under their voices, for they were in the now, still fighting the aliens, not thinking about the future hunger pangs that the mother was totally aware could overcome them all on that flight of fantasy.
It was then I remembered my own Mother when I lived at home. In the morning, when she got up out of bed, so I was expected to be also awake and out of bed. I longed as a teenager who needed more sleep than adults, sleep that stretched until midday, that Mother would have a lie in, to sleep beyond her usual 8am wake-up.
Why was it that when Mother was awake, Phillip had to be awake, when she was up, everyone had to be up, but it was alright for Phillip to be asleep stinking in bed, whilst Mother was asleep, even if she slept to midday?
I was recently retraining my computing skills using the mouse on the computer, playing a game of Solitaire, (that is my excuse for playing the card game, retraining), and I noticed a member of our group was getting quite upset by my activity. "Why was I not interacting with the group?" Yet, not a few hours previously, the whole group was watching a soap-opera on the TV, a TV show I had never seen before and knew nothing about, plus, it was in a language I do not speak, leaving me alone and unwanted.
Why is it that when we are awake, everyone should be up and about, but when we are asleep, everyone should be asleep?
Why is it that when we want to do something, then everyone else should want to do it now with us?
Why is it that when we believe something, then everyone else should believe the same thing?
I have learnt that sometimes just because I want something, to do something, to be somewhere, to understand something to be this way or that way, that sometime I have to keep quiet, to not express my thoughts, my want and needs, to understand that others see the world differently to me, and have different needs, to have a different time scale to me.
What I do not understand, is why people do not see it my way, to understand me and do what I want to do now?
Oh life is Poo Poo. I can not win.
Is this the real Phillip Holt
Is this really me, the real Phillip Holt?
Do I really look like that?
Is this as others see me?
In my head, when I am training, out on stage, or just being me walking around the shops, I do not conceive myself looking like that. In my head my body looks nothing like the above, it is as it was when I was eighteen.
I a recent NLP Practitioner course held in Italy with Coach4Life, there were lots of photographs taken, and when I was shown them, I could not believe my eyes. Surely I do not look like that? Surely I do not act like that?
In Turkey I have often been accompanied by perhaps a young lady translator, and after a hard days working together delivering a course, to go for an evening meal. On the way to the restaurant as we walk past a shop window, I catch sight of the two of us, and it becomes a shock, because there I see a young woman walking next to a "95" year old man. Yet in my head as we are walking together I feel as one, the same age.
In the NLP Practitioner I teach the subjects of The Cat on the Mat and Perceptual Positions.
The Cat on the Mat teaches us to realise that what we take as the truth or reality, is seen in a different way by another person, each and everyone of us have different beliefs, even of the same subject matter. Just look at religions.
With the subject of Perceptual Positions, we learn to see ourselves as others see us, and to many participants or clients I have, it becomes a shock to look at themselves as if through another's eyes.
To hear ourselves as others hear us is most peculiar, our voices does not sound the same as the sound waves we hear in our ears are not carried by the air around us, but by the bone structure and skin between our voice box and ear drums.
It is not only the sounds we make as we speak that are completely different from our own ears to those of our listeners, but it is what we say, the content, which is often different to what is received and understood by the listeners to what we meant to say, as with the tonality of how we say our words.
It is when we can step outside our own shoes and look back at ourselves and hear ourselves as others see and hear us, that we may find we need to change our ways.
It could be a parent who treats their offspring as a child, but in reality that "child" is an adult in their twenties.
It could be that a parent wants their child to be of a certain character type, to dress in a certain way, to behave in a particular way, yet that child is different to what the parent expects. This problem arises when a young person realises that they like the same sex partners, and dress and act in their parent's eyes inappropriately.
It could be that the parent disapproves of the boyfriend or girlfriend, but the two potential partners are hopelessly in-love, enough to get married. The parent only sees the boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife with distaste and ruins their child's life as well as their own.
It could be that two partners see the world in a different way to each other, leading to arguments, disagreements and fights.
It is when we see ourselves from another's perspective or point of view, that we can often see how wrong we could have been, that actually we should change our ways.
By stepping outside our shoes, as if looking back upon ourselves, we can often see how much harm we have done, how much distress we have caused to others. Or, perhaps, how much good we have done, yet had not perceived it.
So, looking at the photographs from the recent courses I gave, the images were not of me as I perceived myself, yet, the role plays I create, the tonally and words I use, the way I give information, the games I play, the stories I tell, all combine to take the participants on a journey of learning with fun and laughter, in an easy and quick way.
Would I change the way I am?
Perhaps, perhaps not. I am what I am, so accept it.
NLP Practitioner Italy with Coach4Life and NLPNOW
One of the many countries I love to visit is Italy, especially when I am delivering training courses, the people are so warm and friendly, and so eager to learn.
We have just finished module one of two of an NLP (PNL) Practitioner Course with the Society of NLP with over 30 participants, one coming from Germany. Coach4Life the organisers have done a good job in organising such an event.
Although I have been giving NLP courses or trainings in Italy since the mid 1990's, I do not think my name has ever appeared on any certification or licenses, that honour and credit was always taken by the organisers, so now my name will be in lights for once.
We had some great fun on this first module, setting a firm foundation to start with, so that we can build a strong knowledge of what Richard Bandler and John Grinder created so many years ago, meaning that when the course is finished, the participants can truly use the title of a Society of NLP Licensed Practitioner, and use the skills in many aspects of their life.
I can truly say even after the first module, I can see changes happening in people.
In many courses I have seen given by others as an NLP Practitioner, I have often seen a watered down version, missing out many of the elements required by the Society and Bandler, either through lack of knowledge or understanding, or that the subject has been learnt from someone who has learnt from someone else who has learnt from someone else, and so on and so on. Some courses even miss out one of the pillars of NLP, the work and practise of Milton Erickson.
So here is to module two in the next few weeks, and future courses organised by Coach4Life.
