EFT as a cure for boredom

By Jann Barry

Dear Gary, you would think that after being one of EFT’s most dedicated supporters for well over three years, and teaching it now with unbridled enthusiasm I would be fully understanding of the depth and breath of where and how EFT works - awesomely.  However like all mere mortals I sometimes am slow to use it on myself.

The attached little story occurred some time back and I’m better now, really, honestly I am … tap tap

Ciao

Jann Barry

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Some time back I was invited to bring a poem and take part in a poetry reading.  Now I have a wide range of interests but reading poetry aloud is not high on that list.  However when you live in a rural community you take your culture where you can find it, so I said yes.

A friend who was also going said, “I’ll pick you up, no sense taking two cars.”

The gathering was quite substantial – 8 or 9 people and, for some reason I was selected to get the ball rolling.

I spent a few days prior searching my library frantically for some poem that will represent my cultured literary tastes (ahem!) and finally settle on a shortish poem by Sir John Betjeman that always makes me laugh no matter how many times I read it, and ‘In Praise of the Tomato’ by Lunig a much loved (by me), Australian Poet and Cartoonist.  Not a good idea.

When I finish these quirky, light hearted offerings (having had my usual chuckle as I read) there is a slight pause where everyone smiles and nods rather condescendingly and I realize I am flagged as a lightweight.  Then off they go, each person taking a turn from books (books?!!) they have brought that are liberally festooned with markers on the poems they intend to read.

After the first round where we wade through Keats ‘Ode on Melancholy’ we pass on to what seems like interminable excerpts from Christopher Smarts ‘Jubilate Agno’, an offering that would undoubtedly  put even Calliope to sleep.  I decide that there seems to be a high degree of depressed people living in the country and that also there were many people who feel that they had missed their vocation and could/should have had a career on the stage.  Later on, looking up Christopher Smart whom I had never heard of, I find this work of his was written after a period of mental illness – I’m not surprised.

Fortunately as I had brought only two short poems I am successfully taken out of the loop for subsequent rounds.  I sit there sliding ever more deeply into my armchair surreptitiously stealing glances at my watch which seems to be running slow and wonder how, in heaven’s name I can exit gracefully  when I remember I don’t have my car.

Two and a half hours roll on, nay, drag on, when suddenly the hostess says, “Well I’ll just pop off now and get lunch on the table”  Lunch??  Good grief I’m still not free to go.

Finally we all trundle off to the table, perhaps I now pray, we’ll get some entertaining conversation, but no, even as we eat someone recites or reads something.

I am sitting at the end of the table away from the hostess and by now am ready to run screaming into the surrounding countryside.  At the very least I feel I may just die at the table as my head, out of sheer boredom, is about to fall forward and undoubtedly I will drown, facedown, in my soup.  Then I remember my EFT!

By now not caring who notices or that I may look like I am having some sort of Parkensonian attack I decide to tap for the boredom.

I have no idea if it will work, but interestingly enough some weeks earlier, in one of my EFT kids classes, a little 10-year-old girl, when I asked if she had a problem she’d like to tap on had replied, “yes, I’m bored”.  At that time, in a moment of panic I had suddenly thought to myself “Lord! I’m not sure EFT can do boredom!”  (Fortunately I was rescued by her teacher who told her to behave herself).

But by now I am desperate so, under cover of the table, I tap on my Karate Point: Even though I feel I am about to die of sheer boredom I deeply and completely accept myself and I absolutely forgive myself for getting myself into this situation (and under my breath for good measure … “I promise”).

Well I have no sooner started tapping on the eyebrow point when the hostess looks down the table and asks, “Are you not feeling well Jann?”  “Err no, just got a bit of a headache” I reply.  “Oh EFT is very good for those sorts of things, I use it regularly”, she smiles benignly at me and I realize I’m sprung.  Dear God I think, here I am in a remote country town of five hundred odd souls (not MY town) and I have found probably the only other person who even knows that EFT exists!

But by now, come what may, I am determinedly determined so, as the readings and the meal continue on I tap … this boredom … this poetic boredom … this to tap or not to tap boredom … this I’m going to drown in my soup boredom … this Dear God deliver me from this boredom, boredom. 

Well I need another round but then I sit back and take a deep breath feeling my body relax and settle into a peaceful place, the angst and restlessness have left me. 

Suddenly, out of nowhere into my mind comes a scene from Alice in Wonderland where the Dormouse has gone to sleep, and the Mad Hatter is trying to stuff it into a teapot and I realize I’m no longer bored.  I look around the table and I too, smile benignly, tomorrow is another day and now I know absolutely that Gary is right when he says ‘Try it on everything’. 

Just at that moment our hostess says, “Oh, would anyone like a glass of wine?” and I brighten up no end.

JANN BARRY