eight

During the week I sent the photos of my home improvements to Claude. He congratulated me, then sent an e-mail explaining what I had to do for the next stage: the inner spring-clean. This was to allow me to identify and get rid of everything polluting my environment and my relationships with others.

“You know, Camille, life is like a hot-air balloon. To go higher we have to know how to lighten the load and to throw overboard all those things that prevent us rising.”

As well as this, he asked me to write each aspect of my life that I wanted to see the last of on a separate sheet of paper.

“Bring them all with you on Wednesday at two p.m., if you can, to André Citroën Park in the fifteenth arrondissement. Have a good evening!”

Now what was he up to? Whatever it was, I was sure it would be worth going along with . . . even though at times I wondered where all this was leading me. I felt quite stirred up but sometimes nervous. Wasn’t I going to miss my peaceful little existence, which might not involve any big risks but had no great shocks either? No. Definitely not.

I carried on reading his e-mail, which had an attachment and a postscript.

“I’m attaching a very interesting diagram that should help inspire your new mood. It explains the ‘vicious circle’ and the ‘virtuous circle.’ Tell me what you think of it.”

I clicked on the attachment and discovered two clearly presented columns:

Vicious circle: negative thought > hunched, floppy body position > lack of energy, sadness, discouragement, fears > drifting, apathy, failure to take care of yourself > low self-esteem > “I’m hopeless, I’ll never do it” > closing in on yourself, lack of opening up to others > feeling of getting nowhere > lack of vision, uncertain perspectives. Failure, goals not achieved.

Virtuous circle: positive thought or “act as if” > dynamic body position (straight back, head held high, smile) > liveliness, communicative enthusiasm > ability to take care of yourself (eat well, exercise, allow yourself pleasure) > high self-esteem, “I’m worth it, I deserve to be happy” > opening toward others, opportunities, network, ability to bounce back > creativity, constructive view of a situation, solutions. Success, goals achieved.

I thought over this eloquent list. I was beginning to get the general idea and was aware that until now many of my attitudes put me in the vicious-circle column. That just showed how far I still had to go!

---

I COULD HARDLY WAIT for Wednesday to arrive. I was anxious to find out what Claude had in store for me, and so I walked briskly across the André Citroën Park to reach our meeting place, just below the huge greenhouse. How could I have lived in Paris for so long and not known about this hidden glory of the plant world? As I walked down the avenues, my astonished eyes feasted on the luxuriant vegetation, the beauty of the water features, not to mention the numerous exotic trees and rare species of plants. The walk stirred my senses and reminded me just how absent nature was from my life. I recalled a really interesting article I had read by a Dr. Ian Alcock of the University of Exeter Medical School, published in Environmental Science & Technology. In the article, Dr. Alcock studied the relationship over time between mental health and nature (where the satisfaction curve clearly rose from the start and did not stop climbing). His conclusion: nature produced mental improvements on a daily basis for those who lived close to it. What greater encouragement did I need to get out into the country—and go green?

I kept an eye out for Claude and soon saw his tall, angular silhouette, his purposeful walk, his elegant but unfussy clothes. As ever, what struck me most of all was the kind, open expression on his face and the lively eyes that only a person really centered in his existence can have.

We shook hands warmly, and he led me across the gardens.

“Where are we going?”

“Over there, can you see?”

“Where, on the lawns?”

“No, just behind them.”

I couldn’t work out where he meant. All I could see was an enormous tethered hot-air balloon emblazoned with the name Generali. Then all at once I understood.

“You don’t mean we’re going to . . . ?”

“Yes, we are,” he replied, a mischievous glint in his eye. “Have you brought the sheets of paper listing everything you no longer want to keep?”

“Yes. They’re all here.”

“Good. Show me them.”

He read all the sheets of paper carefully.

“I see you’ve been working hard,” said Claude. “Bravo. Before we go up in the sky, we’re going to do some hands-on work. I’m going to show you how to make some nice paper airplanes . . .”

He really was crazy. And yet I was beginning to like him, and so, despite the oddness of the task, I set to and made them without a word.

“Well done!” Claude declared when I had finished. “We’ve got a real air force. Now we can get on board.”

I followed him rather anxiously into the hot-air balloon’s basket. When it began to rise, I clung to him.

“It’s OK, Camille. Everything’s going to be all right . . .”

Ashamed of myself, I stood up straight to control my fear and looked directly at the horizon. My stomach was still doing somersaults, but I kept my eyes wide open to make sure I missed nothing. I could feel my heart pounding and wondered if I would get vertigo.

“Be aware of everything you are feeling so that you can describe it in a while, OK?”

I kept hold of Claude’s arm during the entire ascent, which was almost completely smooth. In the end, I was surprised to find I felt less vertigo than I had been expecting. I was still conscious of the pull of the void, my throat was dry, and my hands were shaking, but I was there and I was coping.

It was an incredible experience, and the view was to die for. It was so beautiful it brought tears to my eyes. Above all, I was becoming aware of what I was doing. I was capable of rising five hundred feet into the air and of overcoming my fears! I was filled with an elated sense of pride, which brought to my face a smile that I could not suppress.

“Anchor yourself, Camille, anchor yourself!” Claude whispered to me.

Seeing that I didn’t understand, he explained the principle of “positive anchoring,” a technique that allows you to recover at will the physical and emotional feelings you experienced at a particular happy moment.

First I had to anchor myself to a moment like that. Then to associate a word, image, or gesture to that sense of peace and happiness. Today in the balloon, I decided I would pinch the little finger on my left hand.

From then on, with training, I would be able to recover my anchor whenever I needed it by reproducing the gesture associated with this first moment, and at the same time recover the same positive emotional state.

I still felt I should ask Claude for a more specific explanation of how to do this, to make sure I had understood. So, in detail: in order to feel again this sense of peace and confidence, I needed to recover the memory of that moment of intense emotion. By placing myself alone in a calm and comfortable spot, focused but relaxed, and even with my eyes closed if that helped, I could conjure up a mental picture by revisiting that special memory, visualizing the scene once more and immersing myself in the physical and emotional sensations I had felt then. At that point, I could repeat the associated gesture (pinching my little finger, in this case) so as to intensify the wave of positive emotions.

“You should practice it often to make sure the anchoring is effective,” Claude told me.

I was still slightly skeptical but promised I would try.

“The time has come to launch all your little airplanes overboard,” he went on, “and to say farewell once and for all to all that weight. The symbolism of the gesture is very important . . .”

While he looked on encouragingly, I launched my paper planes into the air one by one. All of a sudden, I felt liberated. By throwing out these things I no longer wanted, I was reinforcing my determination to change. I had switched on the process of transformation, even if I didn’t yet fully grasp all the consequences. One thing was for sure, though: it was too late now to go back. I would have to accept the challenge! For the moment, I watched joyfully as my little bits of paper glided through the air; I even waved them good-bye. Take that, you useless burdens. Be very afraid: you’re history. I was really enjoying myself.

---

WHEN WE WERE BACK on terra firma, Claude suggested we go for a coffee.

“Well, Camille, are you proud of yourself?”

“Yes, I think so . . .”

“You can do better than that.”

“YES! I’m proud of myself,” I cried with more conviction.

“That’s better,” he said, adding some hot water to the coffee he’d been served. “The best way to bolster your self-esteem is to learn to be your own best friend. You have to value yourself, to have compassion for and to be kind to yourself, to show yourself gratitude as often as possible. Will you promise to do that for me?”

“I can try. But won’t I have a swollen head afterward?” I joked.

“In your case, there’s room for it,” he immediately shot back. “And speaking of that, for the start of next week I want you to send me a list of all your best qualities, everything you’re good at, all the successes you’ve had in your life. Can you do that?”

“Is that all? I’m warning you, it could be a very short list.”

“Ah, Camille, Camille . . . If you start all that again, I’ll make you start at square one. OK, OK, at first you might find it hard, but the more your brain is trained to look for the positive within you, the easier it will become. It really will, I promise. Oh, and I wanted to give you this.”

He searched in his pocket and took out a small box. That made me laugh to myself—from a distance someone might think he was offering me a beautiful ring and asking me to marry him. Oddly, I found that thought exciting. But it wasn’t a ring; it was a lovely yellow lotus. The second charm. So Claude thought I had reached the second level of change. I had difficulty hiding the flush of pride surging in me and bringing color to my cheeks. My eyes were shining as I thanked him and added the pendant to the first one on the necklace.

Claude received a call, which meant he had to leave quickly. Before going, he slipped a small piece of paper into my hand and then walked off without looking back. What a strange man.

“Everything is change, not to no longer be, but to become what is not yet.” Epictetus. What if you drew me a portrait of the Camille you would like to be?

Until very soon,

Claude