Sunday 3 December 2006

the fool in the laboratory

Several years ago I was in a small park in Paris talking to the fool. The sun was shining on an ancient acacia, while undercover police were sneaking around to leap on a couple of lads smoking something more fragrant than a cigarette. A large group of teenage tourists from Portugal were joking around with each other.

Before I carry on I should introduce the fool. He got his name through an accident of birth. His life is a series of radical experiments, financed by the large fees he charges some of the world’s multinational companies for his coaching and consulting services. Funnily enough it’s the effects of his bizarre experiments that make him desirable to his employers.

He once stated proudly to me that he had been fired by all his major clients because he was committed to speaking the unutterable, and was willing to make a mess that employees of the companies were unwilling to do, if he thought that it was of service to do so. All of them had rehired him later on once they had realised the value of what he had said. All of them except one – a major department of the US government. They changed their minds and asked him back a couple of years after he told me that story. I suppose government bureaucracies often react more slowly than multinationals.

Though not a Buddhist, he is not afraid to talk about the roles wisdom and compassion to chief executives. He can do this partly because he is not afraid of being fired. Also because at the levels of management he works, his clients are very intelligent, very experienced and recognise linear thinking often doesn’t create the results they’d like. They appreciate that to look outside their usual sources of understanding and decision making is essential to keep progressing, and the fool lives far outside their frame of references, but can also speak in their language.

So we were in the park and the fool was recovering from an experiment which had exploded. Emotionally, it had had left him a little bit like a cartoon mad scientist staggering out from the smoking remains of his laboratory, clutching a test tube and with frazzled hair sticking in all directions.

After a period of silence he said wistfully "Ed, you know if there is one thing I’d like to have understood earlier, it’s how the way you are from moment to moment, over a period of years, creates your life."

I nodded. I was trying to work out where the fool lived. He had stuff in storage i

on a number of continents, I wasn’t sure if he had an apartment somewhere, or several, or who was living in them. To some extent he finances other peoples radical life experiments too.

"But I didn’t realise back then, and now I’m living with the consequences of years of the accumulated habits of thought and their results."

I nodded again and gestured to the young Portugese tourists ‘Do you think if we told them about this they’d listen? Unlike you," I teased, "it’s not too late for them."

The fool shook his head sadly.


"But what if we told them that if they paid attention to their moment to moment state of being they’d get laid more. Perhaps that would get their interest?" I don’t always raise the tone of the conversation, but to the fool, sex, death, business and spirituality are all so intimately linked that I can leap from any subject to any other and I know he’ll follow the thread.

He perked up for a moment "Well that has a better chance of getting their attention. I know a spiritual teacher who talks about sex for just that reason." After that he told me how he had an escapist habit of reading ancient Greek philosophers and proceeded to discuss the cosmological mode of a particularly obscure one with me.

I understand what he means about the moment to moment way of being. On the one hand it’s obvious. Spend four hours an evening watching TV and you probably won’t have much time left over for developing skills, doing sports, building your business or keeping up with your friends.

But on a shorter timescale our states and habits of thought also affect us. How do you track something as ephemeral, and as seductively involving, as a thought?

Well there’s a very old answer to that question, meditation. Taking some time daily to bring the attention back to a simple part of physical awareness like the breath can create a distance, a perspective that allows you to observe the act of thinking. It has some great measurable physiological benefits as well (lower blood pressure, and a decreased risk of Alzheimer’s disease among others, click here for a more comprehensive overview).

Of course meditation is not strictly speaking part of NLP, but the two are related in some ways. NLP has been defined as ‘the study of the structure of subjective experience’ and meditation is all about the observation (and possibly transcendence) of subjective experience. I certainly consider the two complimentary.

So while meditation is a great exercise to create distance between thought and awareness, NLP has great tools for acting on thought itself. The original language pattern of NLP, the meta-model, is all about teasing out the ways in which thoughts channel our attention. The meta-model provides an intelligent system of questioning to open the thinking, so attention can be paid to what’s more important.

It’s an interesting exercise to spend some time writing down or recording yourself talking about some set of issues in your life. The writing, or recording gives some distance, rather like meditation. Then you can look through to see the patterns of meta model violations in your language, and begin to ask questions, open up the fields of your awareness.

The fool may have wished that he had realised the importance of how his way of being from moment to moment created his life when he was younger. The aliveness and the intensity of the realisation he shared that day was the result of years of work, observation and experiment. I understood what he said, but I suspect the fool understood at another level to me. We can continually get to deeper, or higher levels of awareness and apply them to daily reality.

Perhaps in twenty years time we’ll be in park in Portugal watching a group of middle aged French tourists and after a period of silence he’ll say "Ed, you know if there’s one thing I wished I realised when I was younger…"

In the laboratories of our lives the experiment has already started for all of us. What results are you getting? Is it time to change the nature of how you are experimenting?