How to create HAPPINESS... STEP by STEP guide!
Here is the story by Tony Robbin:
As I write these words, I'm looking out over the deep blue Pacific from my room at the Hyatt Regency Waikoloa resort on the Big Island of Hawaii. I've just observed something that won't happen in North America again until the year 2017: a total eclipse of the sun. Becky and I got up this morning at 5:30 a.m. so that we, along with thousands of other visitors, could witness this rare astronomical event.
As crowds of people gathered at the viewing site, I began to entertain myself by watching the diversity of people who had come to share this occasion: everyone from top businessmen to vacationing families, from scientists lugging dozens of telescopes to hikers who'd pitched their tents in the lava pits overnight, and little children who knew this was an exciting event only because their parents had told them so. Here were hordes of people who had flown in from all over the world, at a cost of thousands of dollars, just for the chance to see something that would take about four minutes! What were we doing here? We wanted to stand in a shadow! We're an interesting species, aren't we?
By 6:28 a.m., the drama had begun to unfold. There was anxiety in the air, not just the anticipation of seeing the eclipse, but the fear of disappointment. For on this unique morning, the clouds had begun to gather, and the sky was becoming overcast. It was interesting to see how people were dealing with the possibility that their expectations would not be met. What they had come to see was not merely a brief flitting139 of the moon over the sun, but a four-minute total eclipse—when the shadow of
the moon would completely block the sun's rays and envelop us in darkness. They even had a name for it: totality!
By 7:10 a.m., the clouds had increased and were getting larger by the minute. Suddenly, the sun broke through a hole in the clouds, and for a moment we could all see a partial eclipse. The crowd greeted it with excited applause, but soon the clouds rolled back in, thicker and thicker, completely obscuring our view. Nearing the moment of totality—utter darkness—it became obvious that we wouldn't be able to watch the moon overtake the sun.
Suddenly, thousands of people began to run over to a big-screen television set that one of the many TV crews had erected. There we sat, watching the eclipse on national television, just like everyone else in the world! In those moments I had a chance to observe an unlimited range of human emotion. Each person responded according to their rules: their beliefs about what had to happen in order for them to feel good about this experience.
Here is the story by Tony Robbin:
As I write these words, I'm looking out over the deep blue Pacific from my room at the Hyatt Regency Waikoloa resort on the Big Island of Hawaii. I've just observed something that won't happen in North America again until the year 2017: a total eclipse of the sun. Becky and I got up this morning at 5:30 a.m. so that we, along with thousands of other visitors, could witness this rare astronomical event.
As crowds of people gathered at the viewing site, I began to entertain myself by watching the diversity of people who had come to share this occasion: everyone from top businessmen to vacationing families, from scientists lugging dozens of telescopes to hikers who'd pitched their tents in the lava pits overnight, and little children who knew this was an exciting event only because their parents had told them so. Here were hordes of people who had flown in from all over the world, at a cost of thousands of dollars, just for the chance to see something that would take about four minutes! What were we doing here? We wanted to stand in a shadow! We're an interesting species, aren't we?
By 6:28 a.m., the drama had begun to unfold. There was anxiety in the air, not just the anticipation of seeing the eclipse, but the fear of disappointment. For on this unique morning, the clouds had begun to gather, and the sky was becoming overcast. It was interesting to see how people were dealing with the possibility that their expectations would not be met. What they had come to see was not merely a brief flitting139 of the moon over the sun, but a four-minute total eclipse—when the shadow of
the moon would completely block the sun's rays and envelop us in darkness. They even had a name for it: totality!
By 7:10 a.m., the clouds had increased and were getting larger by the minute. Suddenly, the sun broke through a hole in the clouds, and for a moment we could all see a partial eclipse. The crowd greeted it with excited applause, but soon the clouds rolled back in, thicker and thicker, completely obscuring our view. Nearing the moment of totality—utter darkness—it became obvious that we wouldn't be able to watch the moon overtake the sun.
Suddenly, thousands of people began to run over to a big-screen television set that one of the many TV crews had erected. There we sat, watching the eclipse on national television, just like everyone else in the world! In those moments I had a chance to observe an unlimited range of human emotion. Each person responded according to their rules: their beliefs about what had to happen in order for them to feel good about this experience.
One man behind me started cursing, saying, "I spent $4,000 and traveled all this way, just so I could
watch this for four minutes on television?" A woman only a few feet away kept saying, "I can't believe
we missed it!" while her bright little daughter enthusiastically reminded her, "But, Mom, it's happening
right now!" Another woman sitting just to my right said, "Isn't this incredible? I feel so lucky to be
here!"
Then a dramatic thing happened. As we observed on TV the last sliver of sunlight disappear behind the moon, in that instant we were engulfed in darkness. It was completely unlike nightfall, when the sky darkens gradually. This was immediate and total darkness! Initially there was a roar through the crowd, but then a hush140 fell upon us. The birds flew into the trees and became silent. It was a truly amazing moment. Then something hysterical happened. As people sat in the dark, staring at the eclipse on the television screen, some of those who had brought their cameras and were determined to get their outcome began taking pictures of the screen. In a moment, we were flooded with light again—not because of the sun—but because of all the flash bulbs!
Almost as soon as it had begun, though, totality was over. The most dramatic moment of the whole event for me was the instant that a thin sliver of the sun slipped out from behind the moon, instantly bringing full daylight with it. It occurred to me then that it doesn't take very much light to wipe out the darkness.
Within moments of the return of sunlight, a large number of people got up and began to leave. I was puzzled. After all, the eclipse was still happening. Most of them were muttering141 complaints about how they'd "come all this way and missed out on the experience of a lifetime." A few enraptured142 souls, however, lingered143 to watch every minute, feeling great excitement and joy. The most ironic thing of all was that within fifteen to twenty minutes, the trade winds had cleared all the clouds from the sky.
It was now blue and clear, and the eclipse was revealed144 for everyone to see. But few people had remained; most had already returned to their rooms disgruntled. They continued to give themselves the sensations of pain because their expectations had not been met.
As I usually do, I started interviewing people. I wanted to find out what their experience of the eclipse had been. Many people talked about how it was the most incredible, spiritual experience of their lives. One pregnant woman rubbed her swollen tummy and shared with me that the eclipse somehow had created a feeling of stronger connection with her unborn child, and that this was just the right place on earth for her to be. What a contrast of beliefs and rules I noticed today!
What struck me as most humorous, though, was that people would get so excited and emotional about something like this, which was merely a four-minute shadow. If you really think about it, it's no more of a miracle than the sun coming up each morning! Can you imagine if every morning people from all over the world got up early so they could watch the sun come up? What it national and international news ardently covered every phase of the event with in-depth reports, passionately tracking the sun's rise into the sky, and everybody spent their mornings talking about what a miracle it is? Can you imagine the kind of days we'd have? What if CNN opened every broadcast with, "Good morning. Once again, the miracle has happened—the sun has risen!"? Why don't we respond this way? Could we? You bet we could. But the problem is that we've become habituated. We're so accustomed to the miracles happening around us every day that we don't even see them as miracles anymore.
Then a dramatic thing happened. As we observed on TV the last sliver of sunlight disappear behind the moon, in that instant we were engulfed in darkness. It was completely unlike nightfall, when the sky darkens gradually. This was immediate and total darkness! Initially there was a roar through the crowd, but then a hush140 fell upon us. The birds flew into the trees and became silent. It was a truly amazing moment. Then something hysterical happened. As people sat in the dark, staring at the eclipse on the television screen, some of those who had brought their cameras and were determined to get their outcome began taking pictures of the screen. In a moment, we were flooded with light again—not because of the sun—but because of all the flash bulbs!
Almost as soon as it had begun, though, totality was over. The most dramatic moment of the whole event for me was the instant that a thin sliver of the sun slipped out from behind the moon, instantly bringing full daylight with it. It occurred to me then that it doesn't take very much light to wipe out the darkness.
Within moments of the return of sunlight, a large number of people got up and began to leave. I was puzzled. After all, the eclipse was still happening. Most of them were muttering141 complaints about how they'd "come all this way and missed out on the experience of a lifetime." A few enraptured142 souls, however, lingered143 to watch every minute, feeling great excitement and joy. The most ironic thing of all was that within fifteen to twenty minutes, the trade winds had cleared all the clouds from the sky.
It was now blue and clear, and the eclipse was revealed144 for everyone to see. But few people had remained; most had already returned to their rooms disgruntled. They continued to give themselves the sensations of pain because their expectations had not been met.
As I usually do, I started interviewing people. I wanted to find out what their experience of the eclipse had been. Many people talked about how it was the most incredible, spiritual experience of their lives. One pregnant woman rubbed her swollen tummy and shared with me that the eclipse somehow had created a feeling of stronger connection with her unborn child, and that this was just the right place on earth for her to be. What a contrast of beliefs and rules I noticed today!
What struck me as most humorous, though, was that people would get so excited and emotional about something like this, which was merely a four-minute shadow. If you really think about it, it's no more of a miracle than the sun coming up each morning! Can you imagine if every morning people from all over the world got up early so they could watch the sun come up? What it national and international news ardently covered every phase of the event with in-depth reports, passionately tracking the sun's rise into the sky, and everybody spent their mornings talking about what a miracle it is? Can you imagine the kind of days we'd have? What if CNN opened every broadcast with, "Good morning. Once again, the miracle has happened—the sun has risen!"? Why don't we respond this way? Could we? You bet we could. But the problem is that we've become habituated. We're so accustomed to the miracles happening around us every day that we don't even see them as miracles anymore.
For most of us, our rules for what's valuable dictate that we covet things that are scarce, instead of
appreciating the miracles that abound. What determined the differences in these people's responses,
from one man who got so upset he destroyed his camera on the spot, to those who not only
experienced joy today, but would experience it every time they told others about the eclipse in the
coming weeks, months, and years?
Our experience of this reality had nothing to do with reality, but was interpreted through the
controlling force of our beliefs: specifically, the rules we had about what had to happen in order for us to feel good. I call these specific beliefs that determine when we get pain and when we get pleasure rules. Failure to understand their power can destroy any possibility for lifelong happiness, and a full understanding and utilization of them can transform your life as much as anything we've covered in
this entire book.
Let met ask you a question before we go any further. What has to happen in order for you to feel good?
Do you have to have someone hug you, kiss you, make love to you, tell you how much they respect
and appreciate you? Must you make a million dollars? Do you have to hit below-par golf? Do you have to be acknowledged by your boss? Do you have to achieve all of your goals? Do you have to drive the right car, go to the right parties, be known by the right people? Do you have to be spiritually evolved
or wait until you achieve total enlightenment? Do you have to run five miles a day? What really has to happen in order for you to feel good?
The truth is that nothing has to happen in order for you to feel good. You don't need an eclipse to feel good. You could feel good right now for absolutely no reason whatsoever! Think about it. If you make a million dollars, the million dollars doesn't give you any pleasure. It's your rule that says, "When I hit this mark, then I'll give myself permission to feel good." In that moment, when you decide to feel good, you send a message to your brain to change your responses in the muscles of your face, chest, and body, to change your breathing, and to change the biochemistry within your nervous system that causes you to feel the sensations you call pleasure.
Who do you think had the worst time the day of the eclipse? Those with the most intense rules about what had to happen before they could feel good! There's no doubt that the scientists, and the tourists who saw themselves as scientists, probably had the most pain. Many of them had huge agendas they were trying to complete in those four minutes before they could feel good about it.
Don't misunderstand; there's nothing wrong with being committed to accomplishing and doing everything you can. But years ago, I made a distinction that changed the quality of my life forever: as long as we structure our lives in a way where our happiness is dependent upon something we cannot control, then we will experience pain. Since I wasn't willing to live with the fear that pain could shake me anymore, and I considered myself to be intelligent, I redesigned my rules so that when I feel pain and when I feel pleasure is whenever I feel it's appropriate based on my capacity to direct my own mind, body, and emotions. Specifically, Becky and I enjoyed the eclipse immensely.
Our experience of this reality had nothing to do with reality, but was interpreted through the
controlling force of our beliefs: specifically, the rules we had about what had to happen in order for us to feel good. I call these specific beliefs that determine when we get pain and when we get pleasure rules. Failure to understand their power can destroy any possibility for lifelong happiness, and a full understanding and utilization of them can transform your life as much as anything we've covered in
this entire book.
Let met ask you a question before we go any further. What has to happen in order for you to feel good?
Do you have to have someone hug you, kiss you, make love to you, tell you how much they respect
and appreciate you? Must you make a million dollars? Do you have to hit below-par golf? Do you have to be acknowledged by your boss? Do you have to achieve all of your goals? Do you have to drive the right car, go to the right parties, be known by the right people? Do you have to be spiritually evolved
or wait until you achieve total enlightenment? Do you have to run five miles a day? What really has to happen in order for you to feel good?
The truth is that nothing has to happen in order for you to feel good. You don't need an eclipse to feel good. You could feel good right now for absolutely no reason whatsoever! Think about it. If you make a million dollars, the million dollars doesn't give you any pleasure. It's your rule that says, "When I hit this mark, then I'll give myself permission to feel good." In that moment, when you decide to feel good, you send a message to your brain to change your responses in the muscles of your face, chest, and body, to change your breathing, and to change the biochemistry within your nervous system that causes you to feel the sensations you call pleasure.
Who do you think had the worst time the day of the eclipse? Those with the most intense rules about what had to happen before they could feel good! There's no doubt that the scientists, and the tourists who saw themselves as scientists, probably had the most pain. Many of them had huge agendas they were trying to complete in those four minutes before they could feel good about it.
Don't misunderstand; there's nothing wrong with being committed to accomplishing and doing everything you can. But years ago, I made a distinction that changed the quality of my life forever: as long as we structure our lives in a way where our happiness is dependent upon something we cannot control, then we will experience pain. Since I wasn't willing to live with the fear that pain could shake me anymore, and I considered myself to be intelligent, I redesigned my rules so that when I feel pain and when I feel pleasure is whenever I feel it's appropriate based on my capacity to direct my own mind, body, and emotions. Specifically, Becky and I enjoyed the eclipse immensely.
But the real reason we enjoyed ourselves was not that we had low expectations; we were looking
forward to it. The key to our happiness could be found in one key rule we shared: we decided that our
rule for the day was that we were going to enjoy this event no matter what happened. It wasn't that
we didn't have expectations; it was that we decided that no matter what happened, we'd find a way to
enjoy it.
Now, if you adopted and consistently applied this rule to your own life, can you see how that would change virtually everything you experience? When I tell people about this rule, some of them respond, "Yeah, but you're just lowering your standards." Nothing could be further from the truth! To adopt this rule is to raise your standards. It means you'll hold yourself to a higher standard of enjoying yourself despite the conditions of the moment. It means you've committed to being intelligent enough, flexible enough, and creative enough to direct your focus and evaluations in a way that allows you to experience the true richness of life—maybe that's the ultimate rule.
Now, if you adopted and consistently applied this rule to your own life, can you see how that would change virtually everything you experience? When I tell people about this rule, some of them respond, "Yeah, but you're just lowering your standards." Nothing could be further from the truth! To adopt this rule is to raise your standards. It means you'll hold yourself to a higher standard of enjoying yourself despite the conditions of the moment. It means you've committed to being intelligent enough, flexible enough, and creative enough to direct your focus and evaluations in a way that allows you to experience the true richness of life—maybe that's the ultimate rule.
