Once again, Kiril Sokoloff and 13D Research has been kind enough to share positive feedback about our work, this time after reading Code to Joy.  Below are sections of the book that he felt merited special mention.  Emphases shown are Kiril’s.

With permission, we have included an excerpt of his article from 2/27/14 here:

Are you happy? And what is real happiness (continued)? After reading Instant Emotional Healing: Acupressure for the Emotions by Dr. George J. Pratt and Dr. Peter Lambrou (see WILTW December 19, 2013), we became friends with Dr. Pratt and have studied his methods and techniques. There is no question he is a world-class healer.

Now we are reading their Code to Joy: The Four-Step Solution to Unlocking Your Natural State of Happiness.

We quote as follows:

When we see a client for the first time, one of the first things we typically do is take his or her history. People often feel an urge to talk things out, and sometimes this can take up the entire first session. Early in our practice, we noticed that we could go through an entire appointment, hearing a good deal of personal history, without having gotten to anything critical that we could really put our finger on. Often we would find ourselves at the end of a session saying something like this:

“In the next few days, before our next visit, we’d like you to write down the three or four most significant events in your life that you can remember, from as early as you can recall.”

We soon found that we could help new clients more effectively by cutting right to the chase and giving them that homework right at the outset…

The fact that an event has stuck in your mind as a clear memory does not necessarily mean it has had a lasting impact. Often childhood experiences with difficult or uncomfortable aspects to them truly are innocent events that cause no long-term damage. Negative experiences are, to a considerable extent, how we learn. Sometimes a glass of water is just a glass of water.

However, as we’ve seen, sometimes certain negative events can continue to exert their grip on us long after it serves any useful purpose for them to do so. Those are the memories we’re looking for here…

Let’s take a few moments now to investigate the situation more systematically.

Ask yourself:

What painful or unpleasant events or experiences do I remember from my childhood that had a strong or deep impact on me?

Quite often people will key in on these significant experiences right away. Often they will be events that they haven’t given much thought to for years, as happened with Stefanie.

“Now that you mention it,” we’ll hear clients say, “yes, something peculiar did happen when I was little. I haven’t thought about this for ages…”

We often hear “It’s probably nothing, but…”—and typically the event that follows that “but” turns out to be quiet significant indeed.

Another comment people frequently make is “Well, I don’t remember very much…”—and then, once they start exploring one memory, it leads to another, and then another, and they soon find that they actually remember a lot. It can be like finding a half inch bit of thread sticking out at the end of your sweater sleeve. You give it an innocent little tug— and before you know it, the whole sleeve has come unraveled.

Here are some examples of common traumas and microtraumas that may help jog your memories or help you identify early events that have left their mark.

  • I was very sick.
  • A family member was sick.
  • I was hospitalized.
  • My parents divorced or separated.
  • I lost a parent, grandparent, other family member, or someone else I was close to.
  • My pet died.
  • My parents left me with someone else (even if it was for a short time).
  • I was left alone (in a supermarket, at my grandparents’ house, and so on).
  • I lost a friend (they moved away, went to another school, and so on).
  • We moved.
  • I was in a car accident.
  • I was not chosen for a team.
  • I was teased.
  • I was criticized or scolded by someone I respected.
  • There was a lack of contact or affection in my home.
  • I suffered a major disappointment or letdown (experienced as betrayal, even if it was innocuous or with good reason).
  • I was hit or punished.
  • I remember my parents yelling or arguing.
  • I had a frightening experience with a dog (or other animal).
  • Someone I trusted or looked up to betrayed my trust.
  • My dad or mom remarried and suddenly there was someone else (stepparent, stepsiblings) in my family.
  • I was bullied.
  • I felt different from my peers (in physical development, abilities, ethnicity, and the like).
  • I went through physical changes (a growth spurt, puberty, developed a physical handicap, or other change).
  • I was humiliated or ashamed…

In the course of working with thousands of people in helping them to uncover their own self-limiting beliefs, we have found that most fall into one of seven patterns, which we have come to call the seven common self-limiting beliefs:

The Seven Self-Limiting Beliefs

  1.  I am not safe.
  2. I am worthless.
  3. I am powerless.
  4. I am not lovable.
  5. I cannot trust anyone.
  6. I am bad.
  7. I am alone…

This “I am worthless” belief often stems from growing up in an environment of being criticized or evaluated negatively… or from incidents where we were put on the spot and embarrassed…Whatever the particulars of the event or original circumstances, we begin with a singular situation and then generalize that to become a blanket statement about ourselves, our abilities, or our value as a human being.

At its extreme, this conviction of one’s own worthlessness can lead to self-destructive or hopeless thoughts, including suicide, the ultimate expression of a lack of self-worth. More commonly, it manifests as a nagging sense of inadequacy. People with the “I am worthless” belief often have difficulty asserting themselves in any situation, whether that means asking for a raise or asking for a date.

Another common expression of this belief is “I’m no good at…”—and you can fill in the blank with practically anything. I’m no good at math. I’m no good at mechanical things. I’m not very good at social situations. I don’t know how to talk to the opposite sex. I can’t dance. I can’t sing.

The self-limiting variations are endless. In most cases they are not based on anything factual at all: most people who assert that “I’m no good at math” are in fact no worse in their basic mathematical capabilities than their peers, and the same goes for the rest of the common self-condemnation assertions.

Unfortunately, while this may often be so, it does not necessarily remain so. Like all self limiting beliefs, the I’m no good at…belief can over time become a self-fulfilling prophecy. The person who is convinced he cannot carry a tune will not try, and the more he doesn’t sing, the less chance he has of developing that ability. Keep telling yourself that you’re no good in social situations, and in time it will become the truth. 

The “I am a failure” version of this belief involves the fear of success as well as the fear of failure.

These are two sides of the same coin. After all, if I believe I am a failure, then what would happen if I succeeded at something? Then I would be expected to succeed again in that area—and then it would be even more painful when I eventually failed, which I’d be certain to do, right? So better not to succeed in the first place: don’t do anything that would make me stand out or get noticed.

The attitude is: Don’t hold your head too far above the crowd. Don’t stand out, don’t excel, don’t draw undue attention to yourself. Don’t rock the boat.

Here are just some of the infinite variations on the theme of this belief:

I am not worthy (of success, happiness, and so forth).

I am a fraud.

I will never be successful.

I cannot succeed, no matter what.

I have to be perfect.

I am inadequate.

I am unimportant.

I am insignificant.

I am incompetent.

I am not good enough.

I am not smart enough.

I am not attractive enough.

I am no good at math (at sports, at parties, at fixing things, at cooking, at sex, and so forth).

I am useless.

I am a disappointment.