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Chapter 1

When people think of hypnosis, they think of swinging pendulu like chickens on stage shows So it’s not surprising that many of my clients are quite nervous when they visitunnatural or frightening about hypnosis Chances are, you’ve already had the experience of going into a “trance-like state” in your day-to-day life Have you ever driven to a familiar destination and found that you have no memory of the drive? Guess what? You were in a trance!

—From “An Introduction to Ellen O’Farrell,

Hypnotherapist” leaflet

I had never been hypnotized before I didn’t really believe in it, to be honest My plan was to lie there and pretend it orking, and try not to laugh

“Most people are surprised by how much they enjoy it,” said the hypnotist She was all softness and soap; no makeup or jewelry Her skin had a polished, translucent look, as if she only ever bathed in mountain streams She smelled like one of those overpriced crafty shops you find in country towns: sandalwood and lavender

The rooe It was built on the side of the house like an enclosed balcony The carpet was musty, with faded pink roses, but the ere lass like those in an atriuht seeh my head, like a brisk breeze, and I could smell old books and the sea

We stood together, the hypnotist and me, our faces close to the s When you stood that close, you couldn’t see the sand below, just the sea, a sheet of flattened, shiny tin that stretched out to the pale blue line of the horizon “I feel like I’m at the helm of a boat,” I said to the hypnotist, who seehted by this comment and said that was exactly how she always felt, her eyes round and shiny, like a children’s entertainer

We sat down opposite each other My chair was a soft, green leather recliner The hypnotist’s chair was a striped red-and-creaed armchair There was a low coffee table in between the chairs with a box of tissues—so away about their past lives as starving peasants—a jug of ice water with two perfectly round slices of lelasses, a small silver bowl of shiny wrapped chocolates, and a flat tray filled with tiny colored glass marbles

I once had a big, old-fashioned ed to my father when he was a boy I’d hold it in the pal exa with all my luck

As I looked around ht reflected off the ocean and onto the walls: prisht It was a bit hypnotic actually The hypnotist had her hands folded in her lap, her feet placed squarely on the ground Flat ballet shoes, black tights, ean Hippie but elegant New age but classic

I thought, What a beautiful, cal in this extraordinary roo your co your head No s or spreadsheets

I could sense her happiness It radiated off her, sickly, like cheap perfume; not that she would ever wear cheap perfume

I tasted sour jealousy in o away

“Oh good, I’ll have one too,” said the hypnotist, unwrapping the chocolate arirly cairl She probably has a whole circle of giggly, supportive, lovely girlfriends, the sort that hug each other hello, and have Sex in the City DVD nights and long, shrieky telephone conversations about men

She opened a notepad on her lap and spoke with her mouth adorably full of chocolate She said, “Now, before we do anything, I’ to ask you a few questions Oh, dear, I shouldn’t have chosen the caramel Chewy”