Dipping my toe in

EFT. This thing seems to be worming its way into the collective psyche. My wife, Anne came across this in earnest en route in her quest to master the Law of Attraction and in true L. o. A. tradition: she sat at the computer and thought: “What do I do about my self-limiting beliefs?” and Emotional Freedom Technique (which she’d heard of but hadn’t really read up on) popped into her mind –– so she Googled it. This brought her to Silvia Hartman’s website (www.silviahartmann.com). She downloaded “Adventures in EFT” and has been tapping as if she’s checking herself for woodworm ever since. A little alarming at first but one gets used to it.

Since Anne has been doing it, I’ve noticed that quite a lot of people are at it; sitting on buses or wherever tapping away. How come I hadn’t noticed this before? Maybe I did and just assumed they had some kind of weird tic. I think Tappers –– which is almost certainly what those (or we when I get to that point) who practice EFT will come to be called –– have to decide early on whether we’re going to tap in public like courageous breast-feeders or afford it the level of discretion normally reserved for masturbation. Maybe I need to tap on it.

Now I have to admit that my initial reaction was that the whole thing is completely bonkers. Then again, so is a duck-billed platypus. Maybe I just have to come to terms with the undeniable fact that there are things in life that are completely bonkers. It doesn’t mean they don’t exist. My uncle George is completely bonkers but he’s still my uncle George even if he does think he’s Neville Chamberlain.

What is also an undeniable fact is that Anne seems to be benefiting in ways that is now making an old sceptic like me wonder if –– bonkers or not –– there isn’t something in this surreal sort of genuflection. I’m going to have to give in to this and see if it can do anything for my own issues that pose barriers to emotional freedom; not least of which is my inclination toward procrastination. As soon as the time is right, I’m going to start working on that.

Anne says that she feels it was a sort of miracle that she was given the answer as soon as she had asked. I don’t really share that view. I feel a miracle is something that defies explanation and this doesn’t. For as long as I’ve been able to rationalise, I’ve believed that we all have what I call (for want of a better term) seed knowledge of everything. We certainly know exactly who we are and what makes us tick because we have direct access to the data, as it were. But we also have seed knowledge of things we have yet to learn. Learning is a psychological process by which we gain access to knowledge we already have. This would explain why some animals appear to have genetically implanted knowledge of complex tasks from birth such as newly hatched turtles that instinctively head for the ocean. The knowledge is already there. It didn’t have to be learned.

Nature is both abundant and frugally economical. A turtle may lay many thousands of eggs during her 200 year lifetime. This is to ensure at least one or two survive to carry her genes and send them forth in the Eternal Relay of life. On the other hand, it’s not necessary for a bird to have powerful jaws and teeth or a lion wings. This is where Nature is frugal. She sows her seeds abundantly and sparingly cares for her plants. This ensures that the strongest survive and evolution continues on a progressive path. How much knowledge do we need to access in order to ensure we survive to pass on our genes? Then why have brains that can process all the knowledge it stores? The turtle has instinctive knowledge to head for the sea because it’s necessary for survival. There isn’t time for the learning process to unlock the knowledge from its compressed, encrypted form so it has evolved with instant access to this knowledge.

Anne had asked a question about herself and the very process of asking had hooked a clue. “It’s no miracle” I said “We carry within us the answer to everything”. She didn’t ask, if I really believed that, why am I still such a tosspot, which is one of the things I love about her. Anyway, if I really believe that, why am I still such a tosspot?? Why aren’t I doing something about it?

This could be a cop-out for me because it doesn’t require the excruciating, muscle-stretching distortions of yoga or any really uncomfortable disciplines. It requires only that we do something which –– well, come on! Let’s face it –– it does seem a little bit.... well, silly, doesn’t it? However, this does seem like something I could cope with. I can’t get my knees behind my neck and I don’t much fancy trying. Maybe if I could imagine any conceivable disaster that may befall me as a result of not being able to get my knees behind my neck I’d give it a go. As it is, I think I’ll give it a miss if it’s all the same to you. I fully accept that, should the day ever dawn when someone cries: “This is IT, everybody! Knees behind necks!” I’d be well and truly fucked but it’s a risk I’m prepared to take.

Tapping, I can do. Not too hard, mind you. I bruise easily. And there’s always the possible long term risk of Tappers’ RSI. However, notwithstanding this (it has only just occurred to me that “notwithstanding” is just a random compilation of three unrelated words that imply no meaning whatsoever.......... why the hell do we use it?? Anyway, I really wish I’d stop interrupting myself. I’ll put it on my ‘tapping list’. Now, where was I? Oh yeah....), it does have an attractive simplicity. I could do it in an armchair....... by a cosy fire........ with a Southern Comfort at my elbow. Oh yes. I could do that. I might just be a closet tapper for a while...... before I take the plunge and tap on a bus.