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Trunk Bay, St John, United States Virgin Islands |
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You listen intently, your elbow resting on the arm of your chair,
your chin firmly placed on your closed fist. You look straight at
them, completely in their world. After a moment in which no one
says anything, you ask them to do a most extraordinary thing. You
ask them to close their eyes and go to the beach. Go to the
beach? In a meeting room in the top floor of
a house overlooking a
busy San Francisco street?
Some people get it immediately. Others look around puzzled.
Nervous laughter titters. "Close your eyes and go to the beach" you
say again, firmer this time, smiling. Slowly everyone realizes this
is no joke, this is what you're going to do now. So they
close their eyes and go along with you. It's much easier to ride
the horse in the direction he's going. And if the horse is going to
the beach, who's to decline and miss out?
I love what I'm seeing. Everyone in the meeting has closed their
eyes. They're walking with you along a beach, a pristine beach.
It's totally clear to me watching in awe that everyone in the room
has gone to the beach
on holiday.
"Breathe in the salt air" you say. "Feel the sun on your shoulders
and the sand between your toes. Listen to the waves breaking. Feel
the water swirling around your ankles, the spray on your face.
Feel the breeze. It's neither too cold nor is it too warm. It's
just perfect on your skin. You're rejuvenated,
refreshed, relaxed. Hear the splashing sound as you wade in the
surf, content.".
People are actually moving their feet (clad in socks and shoes) on
the carpet as if they're dipping their toes in the
water to see how warm it is. It's totally amazing. You're
creating an experience for people of being
on holiday
at the beach when in actual fact they're miles from the nearest
ocean. And what's even more amazing is I can see their bodies
relaxing. They're relaxing and the tension is falling from their
faces just as it would after a
holiday
at the beach.
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