Cue Peter Crone, the “mind architect” as he calls himself, or “happiness expert” as he is called in the episode. I greet him at my door, furious over my column, which isn’t going “perfectly.” I’m tense, rigid in my body, and Peter calls me out on it.
“You’re closed up,” he says.
“You shouldn’t be wearing a shirt,” I think.
Yeah, sorry. It’s hard to concentrate on enlightenment when someone that godlike sits mere inches from me on the couch.
As I go through the three-hour hypnosis (OK, OK, so he didn’t TECHNICALLY hypnotize me, but that’s certainly what it felt like), I felt my body -- and then mind -- relax. Sort of the way you feel after a glass of wine or a massage or ... an orgasm. Calm and clear and very UNblocked.
I write more in depth about my experience with Peter in my ELLE column, but suffice it to say, he began the long process of disabling my inner (nasty) critics’ diatribe -- which comes out both when I write and when I date, and doesn’t make either a more pleasant or authentic experience.