Procrastination as an Art Form

Yes, I know I promised I wouldn't go on and on (and on) about the NLP course: how fabulous it was, the wonderful people I met there and how positive and life changing it's been for me. However, I do have a good story to tell.

Now, long term readers of this blog and those who know me IRL, know that I procrastinate. Or I would, if only I would get round to it. I can put off studying for exams, writing essays, cleaning the house, filing my tax return, tidying up....and that's not an exhaustive list. My excuses see me on the sofa reading, watching a rubbish dvd or at the laptop wondering what do for the day...for the whole day. I kid you not. I really can do this and do this very, very well.

On the last teaching day, The Man Himself asks if there's anyone with a problem motivating themselves. Of course my hand goes up. He picks a guy not sitting far from me. Graham. Yes, this is his real name. I asked him. He said I could use and abuse him in the telling of this tale. (So, when he pops up and starts making corrections, you won't mind if I have a quiet word with him. This is still my blog).

Graham also is a champion procrastinator. He has a list the length of his arm of DIY stuff that he should get done around his house. He, like me, does nothing instead. The Man Himself asks him how he procrastinates. Now in NLP terms the question how is of paramount importance. The How, reveals the method with which to cut short the madness. In Graham's case, he had two voices on either side of his head, one telling him how rubbish he was, the other predicting the disaster he'd make of the job (which would include the house falling down around his ears, if he tried to hang a picture on the wall).

The Man Himself asked for volunteers from the audience. Firstly, he asked for 3 women with sexy voices. These lovely ladies he arranged seated in front of Graham on the stage. They said in their most husky, pleading voices: "Please do this for me...."

Then two other lovely ladies were chosen. They sat either side of Graham. One lovely lady, in her most sexy voice, moaned "oh, oh, oh." The other lady, "ah, ah, ah."

The Man Himself then asked for two big, burly, beefy, manly men, with deep deep voices to sit behind Graham and together, in their deepest, most Arnie accent, they commanded 'Just Fucking Do It!' and thumped poor Graham on either shoulder.

Visualise this scene if you will:

We are in a hotel conference room, chairs in neat rows. There were about 150 NLP babies there, there's the training team of about 12 people. You've got one guy sitting in a chair, in the middle of the stage, three women sat on the stage in front of him; two women one either side of him; the burly men behind him and Richard Bandler conducting.

"Please do this for me"

"Oh"

"Ah"

"Just fucking do it!"

*thump*

We were fucking rolling about the floor. I was laughing so hard, my belly hurt and the tears were rolling down my face. Let me tell you, it was me and 149 other people cracking up. It was fantastic.

Shit. The memory of it still gives me the widest smile.

The thing is with NLP business, it's a little bit pesky. You see, I wasn't up on the stage. In fact, I wasn't even in the first two rows. Richard Bandler did not put me in a trance. And lets be honest about things, I'm heterosexual. Five women saying provocative things, isn't going to motivate me.

Yeah, right.

Except ever since I came back from London. I've got the Motivation Choir in my head. Every flippin time I try to procrastinate something, I hear the whole thing:

"Please do this for me."

"Oh."

"Ah."

"Just fucking do it!"

*thump*

The net result has been, I've got things done when I came back from London; I had no intention of doing them. I was content in letting them sit there and gather dust. Richard Bandler has just gone and uninstalled my Procrastination programme and no, I don't miss it.

PS. Graham and I've been in contact through the joys of Facebook. His DIY list? Done. In fact, done in the first week home.