Author: Sue Young

Limiting Belief

Your limiting belief may be skulking outside, just behind the door, in the dark. Some of them like the dark. That’s where they feels safe. Or, your limiting belief may be a right show off, does five minutes when the fridge door opens and a ten minute routine when your relatives come round, complete with top hat, cane and dickie bow. Doesn’t matter that it looks like a dick. It doesn’t care. It likes dickie bows. It likes looking like a dick.

Your limiting belief may even be inside you. A bit like that Alien movie with Sigourney Weaver and John Hurt. You’ve got this foreign body inside you, only it’s not the least bit pleasurable. And it doesn’t always wants to burst out of you, it likes the warmth too much.

Would it be difficult to ignore this mucus covered fiend waiting impatiently in your stomach? All it ever threatens to do is gut you like a fish, gore and intestines everywhere but it doesn’t really want to do that. Not really.

Because that would mean getting rid of it.

Its power lies in the anticipation, the fear. And like any other expert bluffer, the limiting belief often depends on us just pretending it’s nothing more than indigestion. And so it stays there, painfully repeating, but there is no heartburn remedy or decongestant available that can shift this.

‘The opportunities that we pass up (through limited belief) stop us taking risks that we don’t want to take. We simply say we can’t and we’re off the hook.’

The NLP Masters – Judy Bartkowiak

 

According to some schools of thought, you’re not supposed to blast your limiting belief into smithereens, you’re not supposed  to medicate it, or fight it using psychological warfare. No, none of these things. You are supposed to write a letter to it, as if, it were a person. Your mother, your father, an ex lover, an ex friend, maybe it’s all of these and none of these. Maybe our limiting belief is unique and we can’t cannot connect or relate it to anyone else. Limiting belief, you’re an alien, no, you’re a demon at the end of my bed. I believe you can read. I believe you learned your letters at limiting belief school. You’re clever. But it’s what you will do after you get the letter. That’s what’s important. What will you do then?

Maybe it doesn’t matter what it does. Maybe that’s the point. Hey, limiting belief, you can rip it up without reading it, you can mock it and laugh over it with friends, or you can sit and re read it time and time again crying into a glass of Chardonnay, or you may never open the letter at all. It may just go unopened into a drawer, because you’re afraid of what’s in it.

So that’s it guys, you have to write a letter to your limited belief, if you have one, whatever that may be.

Oh okay, I wouldn’t ask you to do anything I wouldn’t do myself. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours etc. Ahem.

Dear Limiting Belief, Please stay away and don’t ever come back. I am much happier without you. I’m more sociable for one thing. I’m like a completely different person. I don’t recognise myself. I can do so much without you and nothing is impossible. Everything is possible and then some. Don’t contact me ever again. X

 

I don’t know why I gave it a kiss. For old times sake I guess.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

It Ain’t Over…Endurance

God waits for our reaction. He watches how we handle the adversity,

whether we handle it with love and self sacrifice,

or chose darker, destructive emotions.

Regardless of the fact that we may want to scream and shout

Regardless of the fact that we may want to break down and cry

He watches for our reaction

He hopes beyond hope that we are patient

That our patience knows no bounds

He BANKS on us, hoping we are loving and compassionate

He BETS on us, hoping we are caring, accepting and understanding.

He HEDGES that we endure our suffering with dignity and grace.

And whatever will be, will be for our good and for the good of all.

I Wish I Was A Vampire

There’s a story behind this, that I feel is more important than the thing I wrote, so I’ll explain the inspiration behind it first.

When I was about 32, (yes, a long time ago) I remember thinking quite strongly that although I loved my husband, and he, me, I couldn’t control him, in any way.

I know, I know, why should I want to? I’m not meant to. How dare I ! So maybe control is the wrong word. Okay, how can I put this…I believe many people, rightly or wrongly, are subtly manipulating everyone else, and some people are doing it blatantly. It’s become a social skill. Maybe it was always a social skill, a way of communicating, or perhaps getting what one wants. How sad. Why can’t we all be honest?

What you see is what you get. No walls. No façade. No mask. No games.

So…I couldn’t control him. I couldn’t manipulate him. It seemed every other f***** around him could. It was at that time that I felt the sin of envy come upon me.

I felt…impotent. Useless. Weak. The Pixies might sing, ‘Where Is My Mind?’ but I was singing, ‘Where Is My Guile?’

I thought I should have some power, some feminine wiles and then I thought about how nice it would be, for me, to be a vampire, full of hypnotic mind games and occultist tricks. I guess at the time, I was watching how certain people could get him to do certain things,  but if I said the same thing, it didn’t work. So it was a case of, why can’t I be more like such and such?

I went up to a person (his younger brother) who seemed to be having some influence over my husband and I said, ‘How come you can get Ste, (my husband) to do this, that, or whatever, but if I was to say the same thing, it wouldn’t have any impact?’ The poor guy just smiled and shook his head. ‘I don’t know,’ he said. He was obviously embarrassed and a little bit baffled. So I approach the husband and ask the same question and he says. ‘It’s HOW something is said, and not WHAT is said,’

But to me, that just smacked of vampire. I felt that I’d missed out on some very special things simply because I refused to make a political move. So I wrote this and it helped a little  and I never tried to control things again.

To my chagrin, I discovered that it was just brotherly love and I couldn’t compete with that. The relationship dynamics were different. So I’m very happy to say that I relaxed and stopped trying to control things. After that, I found they got better by themselves very naturally. What I also discovered is that it is better to be patient, to be open, to learn wisdom, then it is to have guile.

Wish I was a vampire

To charm the charmless

To manipulate who I chose

To not have qualms

To lack integrity

To have duplicity

How do I make you bend to my will.

To want to.

Making friends

And influencing people

To have you eating out of my hand

Hypnotism- fast food style

On the bus

In the home

During the news

Quick, clean, undetectable

But I am mortal

Without spells

Magic is not within me

I can’t make anything happen

No powers of persuasion

No way to make you change direction

Or chose a different milk shake from your usual

It’s all beyond me

This charm lark

You don’t have to be a vampire to make it work

But it helps.

Of course, none of this applies now, but it’s good to look back on issues we have struggled with and are now resolved. It’s comforting when we see where we’ve been and how much we’ve learned. As soon as you stop fighting something, it seems to go away. It’s good to be reminded of the past, especially when it leads to learning, evolving as a human being and ultimate education, which results in a more peaceful and happier life.

If you dig out your old poems/verses/things you have written, you can see how important it was for you to feel those things at the time, how far you’ve come and how much you’ve evolved and grown. An old poem/piece of writing is like a snapshot from the past, which may have counselled us at the time, and may still even help us in the future.

 

© Sue Young

 

 

 

 

 

Dear Cheese

Dear Cheese,

I hope you will remember when we spent many sultry nights of melting passion together, under the grill. I do recall, I snuggled up to dill pickle in the serving hatch, but, you must believe me when I say, it meant nothing to me. Do you remember that everything went so well until that fateful night? Bacon came along and stole your heart. Don’t think I didn’t see you together in that burger bar. You lied to me. You told me you were a vegetarian.

How I cried and grew moist, then went limp. I had to sit in a colander for an hour, draining my tears. It takes all my energy to get my bony green ass from one side of the kitchen counter to the other these days. I am going off. I am perishing. I feel that these once proud florets will never feel your cheesy sauce again. I pray that you will see the error of your ways. Of course you knew your future did not belong in a bun with bacon and you took off.

What I can’t believe though, what really rocked my world, was when you went with the lettuce. I thought I was the boring one, but really, lettuce? You’re really scraping the bottom of the crisper now aren’t you?  Is that my competition? Is that the best you can do? I mean lettuce and cheese don’t even go together, much. We were always a much more complimentary combination. Everyone said so. We went together like broccoli and cheese, because that’s exactly what we were. I am your destiny. Come to me, before I lose my mind completely and run away with the Bechamel.

Yours Faithfully,

Broccoli…not boring and certainly not as boring as lettuce.

P.S Cauliflower told me I was tasty. Look what you’re missing.

P.P.S Yes, take one last look Buster ! I’m outta here, on my slightly browning stem. Bechamel…hello…you are very pale and interesting these days…

 

© Sue Young