Hypnotizing Whitney_(1)

I was studying Psychology in college and one of my classes was a course in the power of suggestion. As I read through the text and wrote my weekly papers I got interested in Hypnotism. Most of my life I thought Hypnotism was a joke, a parlor trick that magicians used on stage to trick unsuspecting audiences. The longer I studied in my class, the more I understood that hypnosis was a real phenomenon that had been used for centuries to control or manipulate the sub-conscience of others. It’s all about the power of suggestion and the willingness of the subject to accept a suggestion into their sub-conscience psyche. I decided to learn how to hypnotize subjects. I checked out books on hypnotism, I went to stage shows and watched the acts; I went to my professor who claimed to be a hypnotist himself.

The first person I tried to hypnotize was my roommate. He wasn’t cooperating too well, joking and laughing as I intoned my chant that he was sleepy and that he should concentrate on my voice as he fell asleep. After three tries I gave up on him and turned to other quarry. I was home for some break in School when my younger sister wandered into the living room complaining she was bored, she had nothing to do. Mom was in the kitchen cooking dinner; dad was messing around somewhere so it was just me to keep her company. Now my sister is not a total airhead, but I perceive a slight vacuum between her ears. At 18 Whitney is ‘totally’ into her friends, American Idol, the Bachelor, Survivor, Face Book and iPods. I’m glad to say I’m moving beyond that stage and actually think for myself now. She flopped down on the sofa next to me and grabbed the TV remote. “Hey,” I said to her, “I know what you can do; you can help me with one of my class projects.”

She cast a wary look at me “I can’t do college stuff, you know that.”

“No, you don’t have to do anything, just let me practice some hypnosis on you.”

Whitney’s eyes grew large, surprised, “You want to hypnotize me? Why?”

“I have to practice. If I’m going to be a Psychologist, I need to know how to do this. You can help by letting me put you under.”

“Now that’s scary, it sounds like you want to kill and bury me. Besides, I can’t be hypnotized, it’s like a total scam.”

I twisted around to face her “You’re right; I think you’re too smart but you gotta let me try so I can tell my professor. It’s like a homework assignment.”

By appealing to her intellect I figured she would fold and let me attempt to hypnotize her. I was right, she looked at me for a few moments then asked “How does this happen?”

“Well, first you have to be completely comfortable and relaxed, lay on the couch like you want to take a nap.” I got off the cushion and moved to the chair beside the sofa.

Whitney flopped down on her back, snuggled into the cushions, laced her fingers together over her stomach, sighed deeply and closed her eyes. “Promise me you won’t ask me any personal stuff. If you try I’ll walk right out.” I promised.

I began by talking softly to her, asking her questions that she answered. She was listening to me as I droned my questions, when I asked her if she was completely relaxed I noticed her fingers loosen slightly as she responded. I told her she looked cozy, warm and tranquil, like she was asleep. She murmured something and took a deep breath, her head canted slightly to the right. The next step was to make sure she was concentrating only on my voice. I told her to listen to me, to search for me with her mind’s eye, to focus only on me and my words. She hesitated a moment then said softly “I see you.”

Her eyes were closed and I felt a thrill of victory when she said she could see me “Do you see anything else? Do you hear anything else?”

“No, only you.”

“I want you to listen to what I say. Concentrate on me, I am your brother, I am your teacher.”

Whitney frowned lightly “Teach me something.”

I was convinced she was in a trance. I did it! I hypnotized her! My heart was pounding hard, I flushed with triumph. “Whitney, listen to me. You have a fly walking on your leg.” My sister twitched her right leg then reached down to brush off the imaginary insect. I was awestruck that she did what I expected. “The fly just landed on your cheek Whitney.” She lifted her hand and brushed the invisible bug away again. I had no idea what to do next. My sister was hypnotized but I couldn’t think of anything I should or could do so I decided to try a post-hypnotic suggestion then wake her up. “What color is your hair Whitney?”

“Honey Blonde” was her reply.

“You would look nice with lighter blonde streaks in your hair.”

“You think so?”

“I am your teacher; you would look pretty with streaks in your hair. You want to be pretty, you should streak your hair.”

She fidgeted on the sofa, “Pretty.”

I followed the rules for bringing a person out of a trance and in less than a minute Whitney was sitting up “I’m sorry I fell asleep and screwed up your experiment. I told you I couldn’t be hypnotized.” I assured her that it was no big deal.

The next day my sister came bounding into the house to show me her new hair style. She had gotten a nice layer cut with light streaks throughout her hair. She did look prettier. I was amazed at the power of my suggestion. Now that I had found a good subject, I started to plan the next session.

My sister was a senior in high school. She did well enough but ever since I started college I realize how much education we don’t get. If nothing else I thought I could design a hypnosis regimen that not only would help me learn the tools of my chosen trade, but help Whitney get a better education. The next day I asked her again if I could try to hypnotize her. At first she was reluctant, unwilling to waste more time but I convinced her that I needed her help. She relaxed on the sofa and I was able to put her in a trance. The second time was easier and in less than a minute her mind was as pliable as Play Dough. This time I turned on a digital recorder so I could convince her she had been hypnotized and that I didn’t pry any secrets out of her.

I got her to talk about things that made her happy when she was little. She flushed and gushed about several moments in her life that she enjoyed. A special birthday present, the cat we had for years, and for some odd reason known only to her, playing ‘Operation’ with me. After about 15 minutes I shut off the recorder then made another post hypnotic suggestion, one that I had planned. I picked an easy one to do and to test if she had done it. “Whitney, do you know where Mount Rushmore is?”

“No.”

“You have to find out. You should go to the library and find out where and what Mount Rushmore is.