"You cannot always control what goes on outside. But you can always control what goes on inside."
Wayne Dyer (1940–2015)
Where across the course of your day today, could you consider where it might be that your beliefs were planted but can be changed?
As part of my prevention rather than cure philosophy, I had my quarterly blood test yesterday.
I know people who haven’t had their cholesterol, blood sugar or other important health markers checked for more than four years. Sadly, I’ve also been to the funerals of a couple of men who never got them checked.
As the nurse inserted the needle to take my blood, she laughed as she noticed me watching it go in.
I asked her what she was laughing about, hoping laughter wasn’t her shock mechanism.
She smiled and said, “You’d be surprised how many big, muscular men covered in tattoos, ask to lie down and cover their eyes with their forearm because they’re worried they might faint.”
My first response was going to be that I’m a mind and body coach, so these sorts of things are all part of mind over matter.
If I don’t mind, it doesn’t matter.
Then, in a flash, I was transported back to the Civic Centre in Springwood, in the Blue Mountains, lining up for the very first vaccination I can remember.
As we stood in the queue, my mother looked at me and said, “Look at all those little boys crying like little girls. You’re not going to cry like a little girl, are you?”
When my turn came, I was terrified.
Looking back, I don’t think I was frightened of the needle itself.
I was frightened of crying, disappointing my mother and proving her wrong.
As I sit here writing this, I can still remember the sting of that needle. In fact, it hurt far more than the blood drawing I had yesterday.
What I remember even more vividly, though, was the conversation I was having with myself as I fought back the tears.
Afterwards my mother told me she was so proud of me and rewarded me with a giant meringue from the local bakery.
Then, that evening, my mother proudly told my father I was the only little boy who hadn’t cried.
My father celebrated me.
Without anyone realising it, a belief had just been reinforced.
First came my mother’s expectation, then came my own self-talk as I desperately tried to live up to it, next came the reward of that giant meringue, and finally came my father’s praise.
Neuroscience tells us that every thought, emotion and experience activates networks of neurons in the brain. When those same pathways are activated repeatedly, particularly when they’re accompanied by strong emotion or reward, they become stronger and more efficient. Psychologists often summarise this with a simple phrase:
“Neurons that fire together, wire together.”
That experience wasn’t really about needles; it became a belief about who I was.
“I don’t panic.”
“I stay calm.”
“I can handle this.”
Here’s the thing. Our brains continue to work this way throughout our lives.
Every time you tell yourself, “I’m hopeless with technology,” “I’m no good with money,” “I’m too old to change,” or “I’ve never been confident,” you’re reinforcing those neural pathways.
Equally, every time you keep a promise to yourself, learn a new skill, step outside your comfort zone or prove yourself wrong, you’re building new ones.
Your brain doesn’t simply record your experiences; it rewires itself because of them.
The beliefs you hold today may well have been planted by someone else, but the beliefs you carry tomorrow will be shaped by what you repeatedly think, repeatedly say and repeatedly do today.
If neurons that fire together wire together, what belief could you begin reinforcing today that your future self will thank you for, and what belief could you begin dismantling today, that your future self will also thank you for?
While you’re thinking about that, think about this and have a Gr8 day.
Be well,
DL
"Neurons that fire together wire together."
Donald Hebb (1904–1985)