I remember when I had to give a talk about my honours project. That’s not something I’m likely to forget – it’s not a great memory.
Actually, I take that back. Looking back on it, from the comfort of the present, it’s a fine memory.
At the time, though?
It was awful.
By this stage in my life, I was still iffy on public speaking. Some days I would sizzle and others I’d fizzle. With the amount of pressure I was under, I wasn’t sizzling.
My honours project got weird results. Not in an intriguing, advancing-the-course-of-science sort of way. Imagine your degree involved building the Millennium Falcon out of Lego (lucky you), but you can’t figure out how to open the box. That’s what I mean by ‘weird results’.
I may be many things, but a good synthetic chemist ain’t one.
And then my presentation talking about this weirdness had technical issues.
There I was, in my awkward suit – the sort that university students can afford – giving a broken talk about a bad project. It… wasn’t great.
But I got through it.
And then I could leave.
I’ve thought about the walk home a lot. It was like I was floating, glowing and on top of the world. I was done. I had finished. There was nothing left for me to do. All that mucking about in the lab was behind me.
The strangest part was not how I felt while walking home, although I’d never felt this before. No, the weirdest part was how everyone else felt.
At that time, I was used to being ignored. If I caught a stranger’s eye, I’d either catch a fake smile or a flicker of contempt. This final walk home was different. People were paying attention to me. When I made eye contact, they smiled.
They smiled properly. Symmetrical and high enough to crinkle the eyes.
All I wanted was to leave the campus and never come back. Yet, somehow, in that moment I tapped into a deeper vein of charisma than I’d ever felt before.
Maybe there’s nothing more appealing than a free man.
A lot of my life has been spent trying to recapture that state. In that moment, I was charming and unburdened. And, although I wouldn’t learn hypnosis for years to come, I was incredibly hypnotic.
It’s worth learning how to be hypnotic, even if you’re not a hypnotist. Because what does a hypnotist do? They transform minds using nothing but words. Or not even words – in my case, walking across campus, it was all in my smile, swagger and a hundred other little gestures.
When you align with the greater parts of your unconscious, you have access to real power. Not over other people, but over yourself. Self-power is the sweetest nectar. Other people can’t resist it and, once you get your first taste, there’s no turning back.
This is one of the great lifehacks. Everyone knows this to an extent – yes, your mind has untapped potential. Yes, it would be amazing to access more of it. And there are a lot of folks offering that… for a price, of course.
Hypnosis is one of the few disciplines that brings your unconscious into your consciousness. In a trance state, you can observe and change anything you want.
Instead of waiting for your potential to arrive, you can chase it. Or shape it. Or even build it.
From the right state of mind, hypnosis simply flows from you. And that’s why it’s worth understanding hypnosis. Whether you use it or not, becoming skilled at it requires you to dig deep. You tap into something dormant, hungry and powerful:
Because your unconscious is outside your awareness.
But it isn’t outside your power.
You can control your mind in more ways than you know.
With affirmations? Those can work, sure.
With meditation? It works for me.
But if you want the best results, then forget about those. Turn your hungry eyes towards mind training that’s all about results.
Everything from charisma to creativity: