Perhaps you’ve heard of the man who thought he was dead? In reality he was very much alive. His delusion became such a problem that his family finally paid for him to see a psychiatrist.
The psychiatrist spent many laborious sessions trying to convince the man he was still alive.
Nothing seemed to work.
Finally the doctor tried one last approach. He took out his medical books and proceeded to show the patient that dead men don’t bleed. After hours of tedious study, the patient seemed convinced that dead men don’t bleed.
“Do you now agree that dead men don’t bleed?” the doctor asked.
“Yes, I do,” the patient replied.
“Very well, then,” the doctor said.
He took out a pin and pricked the patient’s finger. Out came a trickle of blood.
The doctor asked, “What does that tell you?”
“Oh my goodness!” the patient exclaimed as he stared incredulously at his finger … “Dead men do bleed!!”
Category: Stories
A philosophy professor stood before his class with some items on the table in front of him. When the class began, wordlessly he picked up a very large and empty mayonnaise jar and proceeded to fill it with rocks, about 2 inches in diameter.
He then asked the students if the jar was full. They agreed that it was.
So the professor then picked up a box of pebbles and poured them into the jar. He shook the jar lightly. The pebbles, of course, rolled into the open areas between the rocks.
He then asked the students again if the jar was full. They agreed it was.
The professor picked up a box of sand and poured it into the jar. Of course, the sand filled up everything else.
He then asked once more if the jar was full. The students responded with a unanimous “Yes.”
“Now,” said the professor, “I want you to recognize that this jar represents your life. The rocks are the important things – your family, your partner, your health, your children – things that if everything else was lost and only they remained, your life would still be full.
The pebbles are the other things that matter – like your job, your house, your car.
The sand is everything else. The small stuff.”
“If you put the sand into the jar first,” he continued “there is no room for the pebbles or the rocks. The same goes for your life.
If you spend all your time and energy on the small stuff, you will never have room for the things that are important to you. Pay attention to the things that are critical to your happiness. Play with your children. Take your partner out dancing. There will always be time to go to work, clean the house, give a dinner party and fix the disposal.
Take care of the rocks first – the things that really matter. Set your priorities. The rest is just sand.
The gods met to decide where to hide the meaning of life so humankind would have to experience struggle to find it. They considered, and rejected, a number of locations before one of them suggested “Let’s hide it inside each human being, they will never think to look there”
A long ago, a rich man lived in a city in Japan called Nagoya. The economy was not in a good state, and the rich man was losing money. But every night, he had the same repeating dream that he would find great treasure in Hiroshima so finally went there in search of treasure. He spent a night in a temple and that night the temple was robbed. The police suspected and arrested the Nagoya business man. When taken to the judge, he was asked “why did you come to Hiroshima?” He replied “Because I had a dream about finding treasure here”. The Judge replied,”You’re crazy, never believe your dreams they aren’t real. I had a dream that if I went to Nagoya I could enter a rich man’s empty house and find great treasure under his fountain in the garden, but it is just a dream.” The businessman was released and rushed home to Nagoya. He dug under the fountain in his own garden and found great treasure. i.e. our greatest treasure is at home, inside us.
There existed a psychotherapist who believed that many of the problems people brought to him were characterized by the existence of ‘fish’ in their dreams. One day a client came to him and was discussing the problems he had. ”Tell me,” said the psychotherapist, “did you dream last night?” “I might have done,” replied the client. “And tell me, in this dream was there a river?” “I don’t think so,” replied the client. “Well, was there any water, if not a river?” “I guess there might have been.” “And was there a pool on the ground?” “I couldn’t be certain but it’s possible,” the client replied. “And in this pool could there have been a fish?” “I can’t rule out the possibility that there might have been a fish.” “Aha!” said the psychotherapist. “I knew it!”
We can’t solve problems by using the same kind of thinking we used when we created them
In India elephant keepers train baby elephants to stay put by tying a rope, with a stake on the one side, around one leg and placing the stake into the ground. The baby elephant pulls and pulls on the rope to no avail. This teaches the elephant that no matter what he does he cannot get away when attached to the rope. Later when the elephant is grown up and the keeper wants the elephant to stay put all he does is to tie a small piece of rope on that leg and the giant elephant is held to the spot by his own mind.
This is the story of two frogs. One frog was fat and the other skinny. One day, while searching for food, they inadvertently jumped into a vat of milk. They couldn’t get out, as the sides were too slippery, so they were just swimming around.
The fat frog said to the skinny frog, “Brother frog, there’s no use paddling any longer. We’re just going to drown, so we might as well give up.” The skinny frog replied, “Hold on brother, keep paddling. Somebody will get us out.” And they continued paddling for hours.
After a while, the fat frog said, “Brother frog, there’s no use. I’m becoming very tired now. I’m just going to stop paddling and drown. It’s Sunday and nobody’s working. We’re doomed. There’s no possible way out of here.” But the skinny frog said, “Keep trying. Keep paddling. Something will happen, keep paddling.” Another couple of hours passed.
The fat frog said, “I can’t go on any longer. There’s no sense in doing it because we’re going to drown anyway. What’s the use?” And the fat frog stopped. He gave up. And he drowned in the milk. But the skinny frog kept on paddling.
Ten minutes later, the skinny frog felt something solid beneath his feet. He had churned the milk into butter and he hopped out of the vat.
A number of years ago one of my teachers, an NLP Trainer of some repute, was interviewing a pair of men. One was a gentleman who by just about anyone’s measure was extremely successful; he had money, a good job, a loving partner, a good home, etc., and yet he was acting depressed much of the time.
By contrast the second gentleman was, by most typical measures, struggling. He never finished high school, did not have a permanent job, did not have a home, money nor relationship, but it seemed like he was always happy. He was universally liked if not loved and positively lit up any room he walked into.
The first man was asked, “Are you successful?”
He said “No.”
Asked how he made that evaluation he ran off a long list of criteria… He had not been the top of his H.S. class, did not attend an Ivy-League school, was not married with two children by the time he was 25, did not live in the best neighborhood, did not work for a top law firm, etc., etc., etc.
(Pretty easy to see how he was never going to BE happy either with criteria that was all in the past… one can’t very well go back into your past and attend an Ivy-League school, get married earlier, and so forth)
Then the second man was asked “Are you successful?”
He said, “Yes, I am!”
Asked how he made that evaluation he said, “Every morning I get out of bed and look down at my feet. If they are above the ground, it’s a great day!”
Prince Llewellyn had a favorite greyhound named Gellert that had been given to him by his father-in-law, King John. He was as gentle as a lamb at home but a lion in the chase. One day Llewellyn went to the chase and blew his horn in front of his castle. All his other dogs came to the call but Gellert never answered it. So he blew a louder blast on his horn and called Gellert by name, but still the greyhound did not come. At last Prince Llewellyn could wait no longer and went off to the hunt without Gellert. He had little sport that day because Gellert was not there, the swiftest and boldest of his hounds.
He turned back in a rage to his castle, and as he came to the gate, who should he see but Gellert come bounding out to meet him. But when the hound came near him, the prince was startled to see that his lips and fangs were dripping with blood. Llewellyn started back and the greyhound crouched down at his feet as if surprised or afraid at the way his master greeted him.
Now Prince Llewellyn had a little son a year old with whom Gellert used to play, and a terrible thought crossed the prince’s mind that made him rush towards the child’s nursery. And the nearer he came the more blood and disorder he found about the rooms. He rushed into it and found the child’s cradle overturned and daubed with blood.
Prince Llewellyn grew more and more terrified, and sought for his little son everywhere. He could find him nowhere but only signs of some terrible conflict in which much blood had been shed. At last he felt sure the dog had destroyed his child, and shouting to Gellert, “Monster, thou hast devoured my child,” he drew out his sword and plunged it in the greyhound’s side, who fell with a deep yell and still gazing in his master’s eyes.
As Gellert raised his dying yell, a little child’s cry answered it from beneath the cradle, and there Llewellyn found his child unharmed and just awakened from sleep. But just beside him lay the body of a great gaunt wolf all torn to pieces and covered with blood. Too late, Llewellyn learned what had happened while he was away. Gellert had stayed behind to guard the child and had fought and slain the wolf that had tried to destroy Llewellyn’s heir.
In vain was all Llewellyn’s grief; he could not bring his faithful dog to life again. So he buried him outside the castle walls within sight of the great mountain of Snowdon, where every passerby might see his grave, and raised over it a great cairn of stones. And to this day the place is called Beth Gellert, or the Grave of Gellert.