When you listen to hypnosis, what happens in your mind? Is it just words, just fantasy, just a story playing out behind your eyelids? Is it an escape, a way to unwind and allow yourself a reprieve from the stresses of life? Is it something to be used and discarded? A tool? An amusement? Or is it maybe, just maybe, something more?
We’ve all heard that old refrain “Men are visual creatures.” And it’s true. Women are too. Human beings, generally speaking, are visual creatures. We experience the vast majority of life, informed primarily by the visual. And because of that, we have very rigid and defined borders for reality. What I mean by that, is simply this: When we see a dog, for example, we see the shape and colour of the dog, we see the outline of its physical body. We know, very specifically, where the dog is, how much space it occupies, and where the boundaries of the animal are. We know when that space over there contains a dog, and when the dog moves, we know it no longer does. We are acutely aware of the border where dog ends and empty space begins.
Well duh, obviously. But what if you close your eyes? Does the dog cease to exist? Nope. Instead, you use your other senses to build awareness of the dog. You can catch the scent of his body, feel the texture of his fur, hear the soft whumping pad of his footsteps, and so on and so on. In effect, you’re taking in the essence of dogness; and with your awareness, you’re taking the dog in, to become part of yourself. If you inhale the warm, musty scent of his fur, that scent lives inside your body now. You’ve breathed it in, you’ve mapped it in your mind, it’s become part of you. If you touch his coat, the textures are imprinted on your skin, you’ve felt it, it’s part of you. You’ve heard his footfalls, the soundwaves have penetrated your ears, they’ve been taken inside your head, they’re part of you too. Without those visual boundaries that say “Ok, the dog ends there.” the dog doesn’t end there. The dog doesn’t end. You carry it within you, as part of the consciousness that makes you who you are. You are one with the dog.
And the same is true for literally everything else. Everything. Every microwave pizza you eat, every lemon scented kitchen cleaner you smell, every tree root you stumble over in the dark on your way home from town. Every hypnosis file you listen to.
You have interacted with it. You have given it, no matter how fleetingly, attention. It has entered into you, in one way or another, and become part of you. And without that rigidly defined border of the visual, it is free to expand. You are free to expand with it, to feel it in ways that don’t abruptly end with the crushing Full Stop of a visual cue. And that, my darlings, is why I favour audio trancework to video. Because it doesn’t end. Because it doesn’t stop. Because there is no “That’s you over there, and this is me over here.” Your other senses take over; you take the experience within yourself, let it penetrate you in ways that you otherwise would not. And it becomes yours.
It becomes you.