How to get a memory of your future

Everyday magic: the science of hypnosis and how it hits. Plus, the story of my unexpected experience with hypnotherapy.

Hypnosis is… possible in real life?

Last week I had a guest post from Sarah Jane Cavill, a coach and hypnotherapist I met at a digital nomad retreat in Nicaragua back in 2021. Her story of leaving her life in London behind, along with her fancy job as Head of Digital Design with Hearst Publishing, to seek a new way of living, resonated with a lot of you, and your feedback was lovely! Thank you!!!!! I love hearing from you.

While chatting about her guest post, Sarah offered me a hypnotherapy session, which I accepted. I was curious to see how it worked, plus I’d recently encountered a self-limiting belief I was eager to change. The timing seemed perfect.

I didn’t really know what to expect from hypnotherapy. I grew up linking hypnosis to visions of Freud, dangling his magic pocket watch, or the old fraudsters of Vaudeville in the late 19th and early 20th centuries. I wrote hypnosis off as scientifically impossible and unreal. An act.

And yet, and yet…

The science and psychology of hypnosis

Modern clinical research has shown hypnosis can relieve pain and anxiety. It can help with smoking cessation, weight loss, and sleep. It can assist children and adolescents with regulating their feelings and behaviors. Some people even use “self-hypnosis” to manage stress, deal with challenges, and improve their health.

According Dr. David Spiegel, a Stanford University psychiatrist and leading researcher of hypnosis, it is not exactly what we tend to think.

Hypnosis:

• Is a type of concentration that can guide the brain toward a more suggestible state

• Requires a person to be suggestible, meaning they want to make the change. It wouldn't work very well on someone that didn't want to give up smoking but just thought they should

• Is created through a specific type of calming visualization that allows one’s physical surroundings to melt away

The result is a combination of dissociation, immersion, and openness to new experiences, which creates what modern hypnotherapists refer to as a “hypnotic state.” When we’re in this state, a hypnotist can create a non-judgmental immersive experience for us. That’s where the opportunity lies to change deeply ingrained beliefs at a subconscious level.

Preparing for my hypnotherapy session

A day before my scheduled hypnotherapy session, Sarah sent over a questionnaire for me to complete. In it, she described what to expect:

Hypnotherapy is a heightened state of concentration and focused attention. It allows us to access the subconscious and helps to put our mind at ease. You’ll leave the session feeling deeply calm and relaxed.

During hypnosis, Alpha and Theta brain waves are present, which are the best states for reprogramming the mind. At this frequency, you are conscious of your surroundings but your body is in deep relaxation. Once in this state, the power of suggestion is used to encourage positive change on a conscious and unconscious level.

Results can range from being instant to taking a few days, weeks or appearing more gradually over a few months.

Then she asked me a series of questions about my goals for the session. I won’t share the questions specifically, in case you do wind up trying it for yourself, because part of what was great about this experience was having only one day to come up with answers. It pushed me to move quickly, not over think, and be as direct and to the point as possible with what I wrote.

What I will share is that my big focus for the session was my desire to deeply believe I could launch and run a business that could grow to scale, operate at high levels of excellence, make a deep impact for many people, and could work with top companies.

My whole career has involved work of this nature, so on the surface there should be no reason that any of these things wouldn’t be possible. And yet, I felt something holding me back, making me think I was “too small” to do it.

The impact I want to make in my business revolves around humanizing work and our workplaces, something so needed in today’s hyper-competitive, over-scheduled and transactional world. At a time when many people are struggling with their relationship to the organizations they work for, the jobs they hold, and their life and desires, I know I can improve things at both an individual and systemic level.

If I let myself “go big,” I can make the change I want to see in the world.

I have a lot to pull from: I can apply my corporate strategy background, skills in quantitative economics research and qualitative insights development, experience working with top executives, and love of being a coaching leader to my teams. By leveraging my ability to connect the dots between the human and the systemic, and integrate the findings of many different disciplines… well, I know there’s juice there.

My hypnotherapy experience

Sarah had told me to find a quiet, comfortable place to sit for our session. Even to light a candle, if I wanted. So I chose the cozy chair in my bedroom where I could shut the door and let the sunny breeze blow the scent of the garden through my window.

We met on Zoom. Sarah’s office behind her on the screen was completely calming, a Zen space in neutral tones.

As she explained before we began, hypnotherapy is a lot more “therapy” and a lot less “hypnosis.” In fact, in our 75 minute session, only about 15 - 20 minutes would be spent on actual hypnosis. The rest of our time was spent discussing and unpacking the core belief I wanted to change.

At first I tried to take notes on everything Sarah was telling me, even though my computer was balanced on a pillow in my lap. I wanted to remember all this!

But within a few moments she said, “you’re screen is bouncing, are you typing?”

I admitted I was trying to write down what she was saying.

“I’ll send you any details you may want afterwards,” she told me. “For now, I want you to just relax and be here. You’re off the hook.”

I burst out laughing. It was exactly what I’d needed to hear. In the days leading up to our session, I’d been in a bit of a sprint. I’d had a guest arrive the evening before my session was scheduled, and in preparation for her visit I’d been scrambling to get a ton of errands and work done. I’d also promised my father I’d help him with a project, which required half a day’s work before my friend arrived. Everything was squeezed into a packed short week.

Being off the hook felt immediately lighter. I’d been so wound up. My Type-A doer personality had tried to stay in control, even during a hypnotherapy session! How ridiculous!

I suddenly saw exactly why I was there and how I needed to shift. I could relax, which allowed me to listen more. I could slow down and breathe, which let me answer Sarah’s questions with more consideration and introspection. I could enjoy being present.

“Let’s talk about your big vision,” she said, after we finished our check in, and I’d made my shift to really being with her.

“How does it feel to think about that big vision?” she asked, once I’d explained.

“Scary,” I said. “A little overwhelming. I get doubtful.”

“And in your body, how does it feel?”

I had to think about that. Of course, thinking isn’t how you register what your body feels. Your somatic experience must be noticed. Felt. Attuned to. So once I’d “thought” for a second, I had another shift to make. A shift into my own bodily experience.

After a moment of checking in with my body, limb by limb, I knew what I was feeling.

“It’s like their’s a dumbbell on my chest,” I said.

“How big?” Sarah asked.

“Ten pounds? Maybe fifteen? It’s just sitting there, weighing me down.”

“And how does that affect you, when you think about your big vision?”

“It makes me want to lay down and give up. I feel heavy and slow.”

“And when have you had this kind of feeling before, in your past?” she asked. Surprisingly, this memory was fresh.

Just the day before, my guest and I had been talking about fellowship applications, and how many of the institutes at various universities offer fellowships for professionals to pursue projects like mine. The idea of applying for these programs had brought me straight back to my college application days. I told Sarah about the connection.

“Why did applying to college make you feel so heavy?” she wanted to know.

“Because, I went to a high school where a lot of people were obsessed with the Ivy League. Applying to college meant trying to prove to those schools that I was the best, when I knew I wasn’t the best (who even is?). Then after we all got accepted or rejected, many of my peers at school had a sort of stack-ranking about it, unspoken, yet clear, in terms of who was dominating at life. I was class valedictorian, so I felt I had something to prove to everyone.”

The valedictorian in the grade above me had desperately wanted to go to Brown, but had been rejected. She cut up the “Brown University” shirt she’d bought during her hopeful campus visit, and turned it into a sweat-band that read “Brown is an ugly color,” with the extra words handwritten in brown marker. She wore the thing around her head for weeks after, getting a crazed look in her eyes whenever anyone stared too long. Yes, she was thumbing her nose at the system, but for me it only etched in clear lines precisely how undoing such a rejection might be.

I shared with Sarah that the college admissions process had felt so awful that for a long time after I held back from applying for anything new that seemed too desirable. For instance, I held back from applying to the post-college travel/research fellowships I wanted to do, simply because reading the list of requirements made me immediately disqualify myself. The effort of proving my relevance felt completely overwhelming, not to mention probably a waste of time. Instead I applied for a safe job for after university.

A few years later, I held back from applying to the multi-disciplinary design school at Stanford for a graduate degree, because I thought my background in economics wasn’t what they were looking for. Instead I went with a two-year undergraduate program in fashion design: inexpensive, quick, and beginner level, but still a type of design, right? I’d curtailed myself again by refusing reach for what I really wanted.

“Thinking about that experience, is there anything else you feel?” Sarah wanted to know.

“My stomach churns at the idea of asking for recommendations and writing application essays,” I answered quickly, wondering whether or not I’d apply for any professional fellowships in the near future.

“So, do you remember any times when you felt differently? When you felt sure?”

“Yes, when I started the Messy Human,” I told her, “That felt sure and right. It’s a give-back activity, so I wasn’t worried about me. It’s for others, so it feels light and open to write. Even recently, inviting guest writers in felt great, because it was inclusive, and community building. I never worried anyone would say no because they were judging my qualifications in some way.”

“Could you use the give-back mindset to create the same feeling in other situations?” Sarah suggested. I considered this.

When I finally did apply to graduate programs, I’d applied a give-back, mission-driven mindset to my application progress. I wrote my essays about how I wanted to blend my economics and fashion experience into work that could improve the fashion industry and it’s global impacts. And with that mindset of give-back, I got into four economic policy schools: Harvard, Duke, Johns Hopkins and Tufts. It wasn’t about me, it was about the difference I could make in the world, with their help.

As I was nodding, Sarah added, “Alternatively, could you register what you deserve just as yourself, no give back required?”

Oh.

That was new.

The very thought felt different. Bright and golden.

Could I feel that in my body too?

As if answering her own question, we quickly pivoted into questions about my big vision and goals, followed by intimate details about my ideal day.

What would I like to be happening on a day exactly one year from now, in my future? From waking up to sleep again, we discussed each moment. The sounds, sights, and bodily sensations I would experience. Sarah followed up a few times to make sure the vision was making me feel how I wanted to feel, and if not, we’d review and revise.

The more we made the details of my ideal day illicit happy feelings, contentment, joy and satisfaction, the more I saw how I’d initially viewed that ideal day as indulgent in some way. But Sarah just took notes like it was a completely normal day to want. Maybe it is.

Finally, Sarah told me it was time. I put the computer aside and lay back in my reclining chair.

Hypnosis

“Close your eyes,” she said, soft music playing behind her gentle voice. She guided me through some slow breathing. Her voice was rhythmic and almost monotone, but very calm and relaxing.

“Breathe in. Two… three…. four,” she said.

“Pause.” I held my breath. “Two… three… four.”

“Now out. Two… three… four.”

My limbs grew heavy and my pulse slowed as I continued the breaths.

“You, are in, a magic, forest,” Sarah said, nearly chanting.

Immediately I pictured a place, dim and warm. Soft green moss covered the floor and bounced under my bare feet. Thick pine trees were all around me, and little red and orange mushrooms grew from the ground. Tiny animals walked about in Victorian outfits, with top hats and canes, going about their magic tiny animal business just out of my reach, at the edge of where I could see through the dense pines.

“You, are laying, down,” Sarah said. Mentally, I sat in the moss and then lay down on its soft bed, picturing my bare feet poking up at the edge of my vision.

“There, is a bright, pulsing, light above, you…” I pictured a glowing orb, almost like looking into the sun on a bright day, but this one was three-dimensional, and within reach, just under the tree branches above.

Somehow, within moments, I was walking down stone steps cut in the side of a thickly overgrown ravine, heading into a bright, grassy valley. “With, each step,” Sarah said, “You, go deeper.” She counted down the stairs, telling me to go deeper each time. I walked into the valley. Further into my mind.

“You, step, through a magical door, into your morning. It’s July 20th, one year, from now. You, are waking, up…”

I woke up in a bright sunny room in a big bed with a fluffy comforter. I was glowingly happy, my heart full. Soon I was at breakfast on my porch, overlooking a big field with a view of the ocean, eating with my boyfriend and talking about our upcoming day. The trilling and songs of hundreds of birdcalls, and the distant hum of lobster boat engines filled the air. I was at peace.

I stepped through another magic door to go swimming in my favorite lake, the cool water flowing over me. As I surfaced out of the the water and into the sight of the green, leafy shores across the way, my heart burst with happiness to be there, in that water, in that place, doing something I loved so much.

I stepped through another door to quietly write at my desk, working on an article about my latest project, feeling clear and focused, my body relaxed and comfortable. It was quiet and I was undisturbed until I finished.

And then it was through another door to the evening, where I was kicking off a weekend workshop at a coastal retreat center with clients who had flown to Maine to attend. I walked into a wood paneled rustic room, perched high on a cliff looking down to the ocean, and saw a large group gathered to hear from me. The room had been buzzing with energy and chatter, but quieted when I stood at the front to welcome everyone.

I introduced my team, who were all around me, and my chest warmed. These people were like family. We had fun together. They supported me, and I them.

When I began to speak, people in the audience were nodding. They understood my ideas and appreciated them. They wanted to put them into action. They were ready for the fruitful weekend ahead.

After I spoke, people came to talk to me about their plans. We connected with each other. The energy in the room was palpable.

My boyfriend came to me after the group had gone down to dinner. He wrapped me in a hug. He was so happy for me with how things had gone. Then we went down to join the group, walking hand in hand down the cliffside stairs to the dining room. And after eating with the group, in a room filled with laughter and good food, we retreated for a quiet night.

Then I stepped through another door, and Sarah brought me slowly back.

Afterwards

I opened my eyes to my bedroom. My arms and legs were tingling. My chest felt light and warm. I could remember the solid embracing feeling of having a team that supported me. I could remember the buoying sense of acceptance from my audience of clients, who understood me perfectly. I could remember the energy and excitement coursing through my veins for all their ideas and plans and our weekend ahead.

I could remember how relaxed my body felt, and how lightly I’d been walking, and how easily my smile had come to my face. I could remember seeing my team members grinning back at me as I introduced them. I could remember the approving nods in the audience as I spoke. I could remember the feeling of my boyfriend’s fingers slipping through mine as we walked down to dinner at the retreat center.

Sarah asked how I felt, and I shared a bit of this.

“You’re glowing,” she told me. I could see it on the screen. My face was lightly flushed, my cheeks pink.

I’d never fully lost awareness, and I’d heard the few times my guest moved around outside my room, but I’d also never lost concentration, and I’d been able to have a fully vivid, immersive experience. (And all this before reading any of the science about hypnosis or what to expect).

Sarah advised me to sit down and journal about my experience immediately after our session ended if possible, but if not, at least that day.

Unfortunately, I couldn’t. Almost immediately, I had to get up and begin rushing around again in order to pack myself and my guest up to head out on a boat to a remote island we were scheduled to visit with my family.

I rushed around once on the island, yet again helping my father with a project while this time also hosting my friend. Once we returned to shore a few days later, things stayed busy, with my boyfriend and even more guests arriving both at my place and at my parents. Typical for summer in Maine life was a mad rush with a family birthday over the weekend, a ten person luncheon to host, a visit to urgent care with my guest, a rowing and sea-shanty workshop I’d signed us up for, even more guests arriving, and on and on.

Yet I managed to sneak away early in the morning a couple days after my hypnotherapy session to do my journaling, and I am so glad I did. I’d already forgotten plenty… except for the feeling that I had a new memory. That had stayed.

The memory of my future was still with me. It was clear as day. I could still feel what it was like to have been there.

Where I go from here

Over the course of hectic week that followed my hypnotherapy session, and the subsequent four days when I was wiped out by strep throat, making it necessary to take an urgent care visit of my own, I was completely absorbed (and a little overwhelmed) by the here and now.

But the fear about my future had gone away. I was much more comfortable thinking about what I was going to do during the next two months now that I wasn’t worried about whether or not it would ever pan out in something big, with a big impact.

I was suddenly able to focus on the small without feeling like it kept me small. The making of a meal for guests. The pull of an oar in time to the rest of a boat full of rowers learning vintage Maine work-songs from whalers of yore.

Or the question of how I could begin to work more directly, and soon, with a few people who want and need to transform their relationship with work.

How I could bring those few people more peace and success through what I myself have learned — through my own career and leadership progress, my work with executives, and my personal development efforts.

I found myself having conversations with people about near-term steps to take.

A former team member reached out and we discussed forming a group workshop about how to use your emotions at work.

A former boss and I spoke, and he urged me to focus first on sharing my research, ideas, and experience through podcasts and speaking at events, while also reminding me not to lose sight of my lifestyle goals even as I leaned into a big idea.

A friend who used to work for TED informed me there’s a three-stage process to the kinds of insights and stories that make a good TED talk. And that for me to move to the next phase, I need to be interacting with people about my research, findings, ideas and solutions. It’s time to get them into the real world so they can be refined.

My future memory is calming and good. I’m so glad to have it. It doesn’t really matter if it turns out exactly like I pictured. It’s the memory of the feeling of all that support, understanding, traction, peace, impact, energy and joy that matters.

And in some ways, remembering those feelings seems to set me free to focus on what’s right in front of me.

-Marisol

If you want to learn more about working with Sarah you can find her online at her website, www.sarahjanecavill.com, where you can even book a free 30 minute consultation.

She’s also on Instagram @ sarah.jane.cavill