A very simple and easy-to-understand example can be given that clarifies this type of accumulation of subtle clues leading to a specific reaction. The rest of the family spent the evening away from home, I got sick, but settled comfortably in a chair, 17-year-old Bert volunteered to stay at home to keep me company, although this was not necessary. He started a light conversation, in which he mentioned the rush and turmoil that arose when it was necessary to dress and feed and pack all of our belongings before going on the last vacation to northern Michigan (we were living in Michigan at the time). Then he mentioned fishing, catching frogs and feasting with frog legs, lunch on the beach and sand, which the kids managed to sprinkle all the food, and then the albino frog we found in an abandoned quarry.
Then, in bright colors, he described how we carried our belongings out of the summer house in a bustle, the mistakes made at the same time, the search for misplaced things, the disappearance of the kids and their urgent search, how we locked the house and how we got hungry and tired when we arrived at the central Wayne County Hospital near Detroit, where we lived then.
At that moment, I had a vague thought to tell Bert that it would be nice for him to take a car and drive to someone's place, but this idea disappeared by itself when Bert, laughing, began to talk about how on the way back to Michigan from Wisconsin his brother Lance loved Granny Erickson's fried chicken. Without stopping to laugh, he recalled another case when his younger brother Allan surprised everyone, especially grandparents Ericksons, with his "bulldozer" way of eating: he brought the plate to his mouth and, systematically using his other hand, slowly and confidently shoveled the contents plates in your mouth.
At that moment, I was again visited by the already more distinct thought to suggest that Bert take the car keys and drive for his own pleasure, because I really wanted to read it calmly, but I forgot about it when I remembered my father's surprised remark about the absolute efficiency and speed of the way of eating. , invented by Allan.
As we laughed at this incident, Burt mentioned a trip to my brother's farm and how six-year-old Betty Ellis had long and solemnly responded to three-year-old Allan's agitated questions about how a chicken mother feeds her babies, explaining that chickens are not mammals. and that only mammals feed their young. As we laughed at this, the thought of offering Bert a car for the evening came to me for the third time, this time the most distinct one, and I understood what was the matter. Indulging in memories, Bert talked about pleasant and joyful events, each of which was associated with driving a car. However, he never once uttered the word "car"; the closest he came to him when he said "packing things", "trip", "let's go to see", "on the way to the old quarry", "
I immediately understood the situation and remarked: "The answer is no." He laughed and said, "Well, dad, you have to admit it was a good try." “Not good enough: I figured it out too quickly. You put too much emphasis on car travel. You should have mentioned Ned's workshop where our car was serviced, Ed Carpenter who bought this car from, and the winter fishing trip we took in Emil's car, but which was nevertheless car-related. In short, you limited yourself to constant indirect mention of pleasant trips that invariably refer to us, and all events took place in our car. The subtext has become too obvious. Do you really need a car? "He replied," No, I just wanted to have a little fun encouraging you to offer me the keys to the car. "
Milton H. Enckson. The "Surprise" and "My Friend John", Techniques of Hypnosis, Haley (ed.), P. 117.
