Volume 9, No. 5 December 19, 2003 Old Adage, EFT & Christmas A Christmas Story - One Family’s Tradition

Old Adage, EFT and Christmas by Dr. Alexander R. Lees "When you are up to your butt in alligators, it’s really difficult to remember the initial objective was to drain the swamp." Now, what does that old adage have to do with Christmas? Well, take yesterday, for example. Berit and I drove through rain and fog to the busy shopping centre, reasonably happy that we’d decided to get all our purchasing out of the way, in spite of the weather, and before the crowds multiplied even more. The new fan belt (in the car), that belt that is such an essential part of heat, wipers, lights and so on, was squealing in protest.

Maybe it wanted to remain on a nice warm shelf somewhere, and was protesting being put to work so close to Christmas, and in such inclement weather. Out came the dime store wrenches that came with the car, and a quick tug on the adjusting bolt produced nothing. A serious tug caused the wrench to part company with the bolt, which in turn slammed my hand into, naturally, the nearest sharp metal. This in turn produced a nice painful, bleeding gash, which naturally led to a verbal description aimed at cheap wrenches, cars in general, and shopping overall. Tap, tap, tap. Two rounds of EFT settled my composure, and once safe at home again, out came my trusty socket set, and the offending squeal was history. The key to all this is where we started. Let’s tie the old adage. When you are up to your butt in alligators... EFT and Christmas all together. Christmas comes but once a year. It is a time of great anticipation, excitement, joy and good times for many. For some, it is not. There are high expectations, hope and determination that this year, things will be different. Maybe this year everything will work out as planned and everyone will have a wonderful holiday season. Then something happens. Aunt Matilda once again, offends everyone. Uncle George does a half gainer into the punch bowl, the dog destroys the tree, or the overloaded circuit supplying power to all those lights finally decides to protect the humans by expiring. Now, all the effort and work, the shopping, the wrapping presents, the baking, cooking the turkey, the planning was supposed to culminate in a wonderful Christmas. Well, before EFT, when the glitches happened, and they always seemed to, the resulting negativity tended to generalize out, and contaminated part, or all, of the festive season. Another Christmas ruined, or not so good. This year can be different. Here's what you can do to make this Christmas be the joyous occasion you hope and plan for. Turn your attention inwards, and notice your reaction to an event or circumstance. Put what you are feeling into words. Once you have put into words what you are feeling, you are clear on your response, decide if you want to feel that way. If you would prefer "X" never happened, if you would prefer not to feel that way, then now is the time to change it. Start with tapping the P.R. point, and as you continue to tap, describe to yourself what happened, or how you feel, and place "Even though" in front of it. When you have repeated it three times, tapping the P.R. point the whole time, then tap the rest of the points using a reminder phrase as you do so. Here's an example. While tapping the P.R. point say, "Even though Uncle George is drunk once again, and has now dumped the punch bowl's contents all over Aunt Mary, none the less, I deeply and completely accept myself." Repeat three times, with emphasis. Then tap the rest of the points, using a reminder phrase, such as "Uncle George." Alternatively, you may be more aware of your anger towards Uncle George. Tapping the P.R. point you would say, "Even though I'm angry at Uncle George, I deeply and completely accept myself." Repeat three times, with emphasis. Then tap the rest of the points using the reminder phrase, "This anger." This protocol will work equally well for feelings of disappointment, sadness, loneliness, frustration, etc. The idea is to pay attention to the glitche(s), acknowledge it, frame it into words, and tap it. You will accomplish several things. You will feel better sooner, thus allowing yourself to enjoy the holidays more. You will prevent the incident from generalizing out, and thus stop your memory remembering "just another bad Christmas." By doing so, maybe, just maybe, you will give yourself a Happy Christmas. A Christmas Story... "One Family’s Tradition" This wonderful story was passed on to us by a friend, and the author is unknown. It's just a small, white envelope stuck among the branches of our Christmas tree. No name, no identification, no inscription. It has peeked through the branches of our tree at this time of year for the past 10 years or so. It all began because my husband Mike hated Christmas. Oh, not the true meaning of Christmas, but the commercial aspects of it. You know, the overspending, the frantic running around at the last minute to get a tie for Uncle Harry and the dusting powder for Grandma, the gifts given in desperation because you couldn't think of anything else. Knowing he felt this way, I decided one year to bypass the usual shirts, sweaters, ties and so forth. I reached for something special just for Mike. The inspiration came in an unusual way. Our son Kevin, who was 12 that year, was wrestling at the junior level at the school he attended. Shortly before Christmas, there was a non-league match against a team sponsored by an inner-city church from out of area. These youngsters, dressed in sneakers so ragged that shoestrings seemed to be the only thing holding them together, presented a sharp contrast to our boys in their spiffy blue and gold uniforms and sparkling new wrestling shoes. As the match began, I was alarmed to see that the other team was wrestling without headgear, a kind of light helmet designed to protect a wrestler's ears. It was a luxury the ragtag team obviously couldn't afford. Well, we ended up walloping them. We took every weight class. Mike, seated beside me, shook his head sadly. "I wish just one of them could have won," he said. "They have a lot of potential, but losing like this could take the heart right out of them." Mike loved kids - all kids. He understood kids in competitive situations, having coached Little League football, baseball and lacrosse. That's when the idea for his present came. That afternoon, I went to a local sporting goods store and bought an assortment of wrestling headgear and shoes, and sent them anonymously to that inner-city church. On Christmas Eve I placed the envelope on the tree, the note inside telling Mike what I had done and that this was his gift from me. His smile was the brightest thing about Christmas that year and in succeeding years. For each Christmas, I followed the tradition, one year sending a group of mentally challenged youngsters to a hockey game, another year a cheque to a pair of elderly brothers whose home had burned to the ground the week before Christmas, and so on. The envelope became the highlight of our Christmas. It was always the last thing opened on Christmas morning and our children, ignoring their new toys, would stand with wide-eyed anticipation as their Dad lifted the envelope from the tree to reveal its contents. As the children grew, the toys gave way to more practical presents, but the envelope never lost its allure. Still, the story doesn't end there. You see, we lost Mike last year due to cancer. When Christmas rolled around, I was still so wrapped in grief that I barely got the tree up. Yet Christmas Eve found me placing an envelope on the tree, and in the morning, it was joined by three more. Each of our children, unbeknownst to the others, had placed an envelope on the tree for their Dad. The tradition has grown and someday will expand even further, with our grandchildren standing around the tree with wide-eyed anticipation, watching as their fathers take down their envelopes. Mike's spirit, like the spirit of Christmas, will always be with us. Reflections will be coming your way again in January with lots of interesting articles, and some exciting news about upcoming seminars in Europe... We wish you a wonderful holiday season and may 2004 be the best year ever! Alex and Berit Lees

(C) 2003 - Dr. Alexander R. Lees & Associates Inc.