When you experience unpleasant and painful emotions, the typical reaction is to try to restrict them, stop them, or run away from those feelings.  Let’s be honest, though — this doesn’t really work, does it?

There are many ways to define hypnosis. Here's the central definition of hypnosis that I teach my students at the Institute for Therapeutic Learning: We're always selectively paying attention to only a small portion of the data that comes to us through our senses and our thoughts. When a hypnotist invites a person to move that selective attention to whatever the hypnotist suggests -- and the person does so -- that person is said to be hypnotized.

I never seem to stop needing reminders to broaden my perspective and lighten up. I can get disturbed about something transitory and basically unimportant on a daily basis! I easily forget I've never missed a meal in my life; I've always had hot tap water at my fingertips, a heated home, and indoor plumbing. I still remember when I was 5 (1952) and we were showing my grandfather around our newly built home. He immigrated from the Middle East in the early 1900's and was a simple street peddler. When we showed him, with some pride, how our home had a second bathroom (a mere 1/2 bath), he said wryly, "Oh, now you can sh** lots!"

"A single Mom brought her 3-year-old daughter to me because she was having severe asthma attacks in the middle of the night. She had been rushing her little girl to the emergency room in an ambulance every night until the hospital decided to put their equipment in her home so she wouldn't have to do that anymore. That was all they had to offer! Her daughter's attacks continued. When the woman brought her daughter in to see me, I immediately started playing with the little girl, saying silly things and just generally being goofy, which has always come naturally to me. After some silly talk and game-playing the little girl was up on my lap, and I shifted to a focused deeper, though still friendly and playful voice, and I showed her a scar on my thumb. . . .