What are they thinking of? not me!

While Zen Shiatsu Society runs a fascinating series of articles on how to find and keep clients, Healing NLP, not to be outdone, offer something even more illuminating: how to lose them, with case studies and detailed instructions on how to embarrass, insult, ignore, betray and generally bite the hands that feed you.

What makes this so very interesting is the realisation that we can initiate almost all these disaster-scenarios often with just a word or a phrase - and without any training whatsoever! The possibilities are boundless, from the slide of an eye that loses potential interest, to the phrase that can destroy years of trust.

These proven techniques work equally well for losing friendships.

This story helped me avoid the traps, or at least be aware of them, and their relative importance, e.g "I can forgive a man insulting me in my own home, but not being served lukewarm soup in his."

*

Embarrass Them

I stood behind the bar of the French Resistance in Earls Court waiting for the lunch-time crowd and, that day, having fired the cook, a thief, and her lover the night before. My clientele were mostly waiters and chefs from local restaurants and hotels and there was a body of opinion that my winebar should really have been named the Spanish Succession.

Anyway, first in was an early Englishman, handsome grey-haired man with good teeth and years of experience in the catering trade. He had built a business in consulting, advising people like me running their first venture on the do's and don'ts. Some months before he was a regular, in every day about this time to take a glass of sherry and tapas. Now he came up to the bar with a big smile across his face.

"Long time no see," I greeted him, "usual?" reaching for the Manzanilla.

John nodded, smile shrinking a little. I didn't pay much attention as, mind on lunch, I thought here's the very man to help me out now. He did, and more than I'd expected. I told him about the cook.

"Good," he said, "her food was ... well, what you'd get in one of those places where they go down Macromart for a dozen duck-in-orange boil-in-the-bag."

Yes, I agreed, but she was the expert and I'd never cooked anything more sophisticated than an egg. John rummaged in the cupboards, fridges, freezer.

"I'll do Drunken Sausage for you." He put on the apron and set to. I hear the tones of Galicia upstairs at the bar, and went up to serve Paco and Manolo.

"Ay, Crispy (what they called me), where the tapas?"

"Not today," I said. "John's cooking Drunken Sausage for us."

"Eh?"

"Salchichas borrachos."

I explained why and they politely finished their drinks and went next door to the Duke of Richmond. Roz, the barmaid and aficionada of all things Spanish arrived. I went back down to John.

He said, "I stopped to buy a paper on my way here. The newsagent said he hadn't seen me around for a while, where'd I been, man? I told him abroad. I didn't like having to explain myself. How did he know I hadn't been in the Priory - or Belmarsh. Or divorcing - or any of the things people don't want to be reminded of? "

"Oh come on, he probably just missed your happy smile!"

"At catering college they told us always greet every customer like a friend, but never ask anything more than how are you. Act like you saw them yesterday."

I had a fleeting thought he maybe felt embarrassed when I said Long time no see, then shrugged. "Oh, well," then to change the subject, "Mind if I take a look at your paper?"

John grinned.

"I didn't buy one."

*

Funnily enough, a few weeks after we moved the Zen School of Shiatsu to a new location, August 2006 it was, I happened to be passing the sweetshop where I would buy my after-lunch KitKat when we were based in Phipp Street. The man behind the counter said "Hey! Long time no see!" I explained we had crossed to the other side of Great Eastern Street, the traffic, etc etc.

I didn't go back again after that. I felt embarrassed at him noticing I hadn't been there. And my mind shot back thirty-five years as I remembered John.

We humans, aren't we all a little bit sensitive? In all senses of the word. Or is it just me? And if you think its just me, imagine if any, or how many, of your clients are 'just me!'

NEXT WEEK: Insult them!

© Kris Deva North

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Asking Diagnosis - The Popsy Principle

The Popsy Principle - Asking Diagnosis to bring your clients back

When I took my cat to the vet, whatever her condition and his treatment, he would always say to me "And I want to see Popsy again in two weeks, so please make an appointment with the receptionist as you go out."

He did not sit there anxiously hoping I would want to rebook. He told me to. By telling me so, he gave me the reassurance that he was treating Popsy properly.

Asking-Diagnosis gets to understand the people who have come to you for a shiatsu treatment. As you progress through your shiatsu-learning the basic "How're you doing? any aches or pains?",evolves into a focused conversation.

How you present this questioning-diagnosis can determine whether or not they become a regular client. Launching straight into a series of intimate personal questions might lead to a initial resistance. By starting with a little explanation, you can put the Popsy Principle into practice.

Why have you come for shiatsu? Curiosity? Serious condition?

Whatever you hear, explain why you need to ask questions- it helps to get specific permission for the Asking Diagnosis. I have found something along these lines quite effective:

"Shiatsu is a holistic treatment, so I'd just like to ask you a few questions to help me understand you as a whole person...."

wait for their agreement

".....then we can get on with the treatment and perhaps look at working out some kind of plan that's right for you...."

Start with relatively neutral questions. I find it helps to focus down the body, asking head-things like job, working down to heart-things like stress, relationships, down to diet, digestive system, down to reproductive issues etc

Often a person wants to know how many treatments it would take to help relieve symptoms of their condition. I would hesitate to give much of an answer before the treatment. I would suggest to them that we may come to a clearer idea afterwards.

The treatment follows, with questions about pain, sensitivity etc.

Allow your receiver plenty of time to return to this dimension following the treatment-experience. Often they will ask you what you found - explain, in everyday language avoiding shiatsu jargon, the imbalances you found during the treatment. Relate these imbalances to what your receiver told you during the asking diagnosis, so they can understand the connection.

Then apply the Popsy Principle, suggesting a course of treatments related to their condition. At least three, perhaps, followed by a review of the situation.

You have a duty of care to your clients. If you think they'd benefit from more treatments, tell them to book in. Leave it up to them to say no - don't do it for them! Give them the chance and remember - they don't have to be ill to feel better!

NEXT WEEK: Working with AIDA to tell the world about your shiatsu.

Read the whole series free with a click here

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Rage against the Machine - a Lesson from NLP Training

Tommy and I had trained together from the first Practitioner Training with Paul McKenna, and on through the Masters' and Trainers' with McKenna, Richard Bandler and John LaValle, learning tricks of stage magic and the different magic of Milton Ericksson. We rediscovered each other years after first meeting on a shiatsu course. I had gone ahead with a shiatsu career while Tommy opted for part-time. Now we were both determined to complete an inspiring but difficult training, a particular challenge for me being the making of a video of my teaching as I had never before even held a camcorder in my hand.

One of the earliest conditions I offered colleagues at Practitioner training was 'Technophobia', the panic attack that set in when presented with any kind of problem with technology, from kettle to computer, lightbulb to lap-top. I would break out in sweat, my heart would hammer, my breath go into shallow bellows-mode and my mood swing from fear to rage. By the time I got to Trainer-training I had learned to take a step back, reassure my inner self that everything would be (probably) be OK (eventually) and the machinery was just being machinery and it really wasn't personal.

Tommy had none of these issues. He worked in IT and told stories of help-desk questions ("the computer says it doesn't recognise the printer even though its right in front of the screen") and had his own video camera.

We went our ways after the Trainer course, I to a winter beach holiday where en-route I bought the latest, state-of-the-art, mini-disc camcorder "that works with everything" enthused the duty-free salesperson. Except mac, I discovered when I got home, proudly noticing as I wrestled (kinesthetically) with wires, helplines (auditory) and knowledge-bases (visual) that instead of stamping on it I kept cool, calm and contemptuous. (Metal cut Wood, in shiatsu terms, and Earth controlled Water.) I even managed a wry smile reading the small print - operating system windows - at home instead of at the airport. My son benefitted: the camera proved valuable in his acting/directing studies.

A trip to Amazon led me to a second-hand Sony, underwritten by a customer's comment that a Belkin cable between it and a mac required no software. I was in business. I set up the tripod - bought with the first camera - and filmed myself teaching NLP to my first group of accommodating students. That video got me my Trainer Licence and since then I've made many more, about NLP, Shiatsu, Tai Chi and Chi Kung. People have even told me they've joined courses through being impressed by my Youtube collection.

I came across Tommy again at another event a year or so later. He was still in his IT job and "hadn't got round to doing the video yet," although still determined to change career to NLP.

There's another lesson in here somewhere, but maybe for another day.

Kris Deva North

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