Metaphor Bank

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Comment by Steve Lovold on November 29, 2009 at 1:11am

" If at first you don't succeed, keep on sucking until you do succeed. "

Comment by Kelley Woods on November 5, 2009 at 8:32am

Driving along the freeway with my teen son, he commented how the traffic ahead was in a "clot". I laughted and agreed with him.
It wasn't until later that evening, as I worked with a diabetic client who suffers from leg pain that I employed the traffic clot metaphor into our work. My client was "driving" the crowded lanes of Los Angeles traffic as usual when he was magically lifted to the speed limit-free, wide open roads of Montana! He even came up with some perfect car trip tunes to play in his mind as he enjoyed the passing scenery!
You never know from where inspiration for our work comes!

Comment by Andrea Crouch, CHt. on October 30, 2009 at 9:02am

Thanks so much, Kelley! That is excellent and I appreciate you taking the time to share that.
Andrea

Comment by Kelley Woods on October 30, 2009 at 8:45am

Hi Andrea,
Here is a story I wrote for women wanting to reduce their sugar intake:

Everyone knows that little girls are made of sugar and spice and everything nice. But, some time ago, when I was a little girl and spent a lot of time thinking about the weird things that adults said, I wondered what that actually meant...I mean...am I really made up of sugar and spice and everything nice?
I was a rowdy little girl; I behaved more like a tomboy, climbing on stuff, jumping off of rocks, being daring and active and laughing and showing my wit and character to anyone who watched...so I suppose that could be taken to mean that I was spicey...But what about the sugar and the nice? That didn't seem to fit me very well and it made me sad that I didn't belong in that phrase about little girls being made of sugar and spice and everything nice.
So I decided to make myself more like sugar. And, being just a little girl with not so much knowledge about things like health and nutrition, it only made sense to me that in order to be made of sugar, I would need to consume sugar...so I did...I focused my desire on anything that contained sugar...I spent my waking hours...and my dreaming hours...on the pursuit and consumption of sugar...
At first, this new adventure was really really fun...I felt like one of the kids in Willy Wonka's Chocolate Factory! I loved getting the taste of sugar in my mouth, and the sticky, sweet remnants on my hands or around my mouth reminded me of how I was becoming "made of sugar"...I searched and found sugar in so many places; I didn't have to look very hard...I realized that sugar was all around me...at home, at school, at my grandmother's house, at school, at my friends' houses, at every store I entered and wrapped around every special holiday...the sugar greeted and invited me to make it part of me!
But, soon, the fun of sugar began to sour. Sometimes I noticed that I didn't feel very well after I ate sugar. While it was in my mouth and going down my throat, I loved the feeling of making it part of me...but once it hit my stomach, that good feeling went away and left me feeling bad inside.
And the more I ate sugar, the worse I began to feel. Gradually, I began to realize that the sugar wasn't really good for me, but I still wanted to be a little girl made of sugar and spice and everything nice. But the rest of that saying, the everything nice, meant that I had to keep these bad feelings to myself. When a little girl is nice, it means that she goes along with everyone and is sweet (because of the sugar) and is obedient because she is nice. Maybe I knew that I should be nice to the sugar, too, even though it had started to make me feel bad.
And this went on for a very long time. And even though I knew the sugar was not really nice to me, I kept it close to me, even when it started to contribute to my health in so many ways, like making me overweight, or ruining my teeth or complexion, or even giving me illnesses. I just wasn't ready to give up being made of sugar and spice and everything nice.
And then, one day, just as I was sitting down to eat a big piece of my favorite, sugary snack, I heard a little, tiny voice inside my head...it was an itty-bitty squeak of a voice...one I hadn't heard in a long, long time, since I was a
little person...and that voice said, "Stop." And I started to sob...but I wasn't crying tears of sadness, I was crying tears of joy. I finally heard that little girl inside me and I was so happy to talk with her again.
And we sat together, she and I, and we talked about the truth about little girls and what they are really made of and she helped me let go of the lies and she helped me embrace the truths...and when we were done, we hugged and I held her tight, never to let her go again...and I picked up that sugary snack and I walked over to the trash bin and I threw it away.
And I never, ever again believed that stupid saying about what little girls are made of. Now I know what I am made of and it's healthy and strong and it speaks out, even when it's not nice. And I feel good.

Comment by Andrea Crouch, CHt. on October 27, 2009 at 8:57am

I have a client who travels for business quite frequently who was looking to stop her overeating. She responded well to a metaphor about packing lightly as she knows it makes traveling (getting around) much more difficult and with the higher costs of baggage fees at airports nowadays (healthcare) much more costly as well. Therefore, it only makes sense (to this client) to pack lightly and with great care in order to avoid this discomforts.
--Does anyone have any metaphors for minimizing sugar intake that have been successful that they would like to share??

Comment by Kelley Woods on October 27, 2009 at 8:28am

Here is a script I designed to help a client who used smoking for security since age 10. I employed it from the point that he is at a mountaintop, making a choice to become a non-smoker. Hope you enjoy it!

The White Blankie

Once upon a time there was a little baby boy. He was a very lucky baby boy, for he felt extremely loved. Not only did some grown up people love him, but he was also loved by a very soft and white blankie.

As this little boy began to grow and crawl and eventually take his first steps, that white blankie was always with him. It surrounded him with its white, cloudy softness and love. His every experience involved having that white blankie wrapped around him, making him feel so loved and so safe. This white blankie was his security and protected him from all of the scary things in the world.

Even when times were tough and the little boy was confused or upset, the white blankie was with him, his best friend in the whole wide world. And as the little boy grew older, he found that the white blankie grew with him, becoming stronger and stronger...always being his best friend and protector.

And sometimes, the boy lost some very important things and people in his life, but his white blankie was always there, giving him comfort and security. No matter where he went or what difficult things he faced, the white blankie stood by his side, protecting him.

Even when the little boy grew up to be a man and had his own life and his own family and his own business, he kept that white blankie close to him. It made him feel so safe and protected and helped him guard himself against all of the dangerous and scary feelings out there.

But one day, the little boy/man noticed something about the blankie. It wasn't so white anymore, in fact, the edges and corners of the blankie were very grimy. For the first time, he turned the blankie over and looked upon the underside of it. He was shocked to see that the underside of his white blankie was filthy! It was nearly black with dirt and grim and pieces of tar and slime.

And the man set the blankie aside, feeling that he was looking at it truthfully for the first time ever. He now noticed all of the negative aspects of this blankie that he had been hugging nearly his whole life. And he noticed how these negative aspects were coloring his life in many ways and he got angry. He finally saw what that old blankie really was and he knew it was time to be free.

So the man took his lighter and he burned up the blankie, right then, right there, right here, right now. He sat on the mountain top and he watched that old, outdated, no longer useful blankie burst into flames and melt into a small pile of ashes.

And then the man took a deep, deep breath and used all of his power to blow those ashes right over the edge of the mountaintop, where they scattered into the wind. And he felt free. He was finally done with that old dirty blankie...he didn't need it anymore. He was filled with a sense of pride and accomplishment and he knew that feeling would continue inside of him for a long, long time.

Comment by Kyle Gilson on September 3, 2009 at 11:51am

Does anyone have a good metaphor & script for public speaking?

Thank you

Kyle Gilson

Comment by Mark Miles on August 6, 2009 at 11:25am

Hear is a old ericson story enjoy! ideal for nested loops,

All right. Now I am going to give you a story so that you can understand better. We learn things in a very unusual way, a way that we don't know about. In my first year of college I happened to come across that summer a boiler factory. The crews were working on twelve boilers at the same time,and it was three shifts of workmen. And those pneumatic hammers were pounding away, driving rivets into the boilers. I heard that noise and I wanted to find out what it was. On learning that it was a boiler factory, I went in and I couldn't hear anybody talking. I could see the various employees were conversing. I could see the foreman's lips moving, but I couldn't hear what he said to me. He heard what I said. I had him come outside so I could talk to him. And I asked him for permission to roll up in my blanket and sleep on the floor for one night. He thought there was something wrong with me. I explained that I was a premedic student and that I was interested in learning processes. And he agreed that I could roll up in my blanket and sleep on the floor. He explained to all the men and left an explanation for the succeeding shift of men. The next morning I awakened. I could hear the workmen talking about that damn fool kid. What in hell was he sleeping on the floor there for? What did he think he could learn? During my sleep that night I blotted out all that horrible noise of the twelve or more pneumatic hammers and I could hear voices. I knew that it was possible to learn to hear only certain sounds if you tune your ears properly. You have ringing in your ears, but you haven't thought of tuning them so that you don't hear the ringing.

Hypnotherapy An Exploratory Casebook by Milton H. Erickson and Ernest Rossi Reprint edition 1992 pp. 103-4