1

THE BOY
WHO SET HIMSELF FREE

by
BARBARA MENESES MONTGOMERY

© Barbara Meneses Montgomery (2010)

A Monjes Locos Productions (Bárbara Meneses Montgomery and Craig Stuart
Garner)
Contact the autor at: www.monjeslocos.com email: monjeslocos@gmail.com
Translated from CQP 1.0, una aventura para liberarte del bullying y otras formas
de acoso, Bárbara Meneses Montgomery (2007) , Deauno.com.
English translation: Irene Louis.

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 About the author

Barbara Meneses Montgomery has a Spanish and Australian heritage and

currently lives in Southern Spain. With a Bachelor´s degree in Political
Science, she has been a journalist for more than 15 years and specialised in
foreign affairs and social journalism. She was one of the youngest journalists
in the Gulf War in 1991.
She is also an author of a book for teenagers, Africa at 15 years old,
published in Spain in 1989 and 1991 by Edelvives.

Barbara is currently a complementary therapist, specializing in Advanced

Meridian Psychotherapist and Advanced Life Coach, (School of Natural
Health and Sciences, UK). She is also the co-director of a Retreat Centre in
Southern Spain, El Incanto.

Her experiences in international relations, long expeditions and difficult

political and social conflicts combined with a deep insight into the human
nature and psyche have helped her develop what she calls a Therapeutic
Tale, a story specifically written for teenagers who are being bullied, weaving
into the story, powerful tools, techniques and deep understanding into the
nature of bullying and how to free one self from it.

CQP 1.0 una aventura para liberarte del bullying y otras formas de acoso
(Available at Amazon.com), the Spanish version of this book is currently being
used by one of the largest anti-bullying organisations in Bolivia, Voces Vitales,
to help all Bolivian teens and been recommended by the Canary Government
in Spain and other websites dedicated to Children and Teenager’s literature,
such as Solohijos.com. Psychologists and parents have also benefited from
reading this book in assisting them in their work with teenagers.

A free guide on bullying called: Four Steps Out of Bullying has been
included at the end of the book. With these four steps one can shift the
consciousness of a victim of bullying into someone who can transcend this
aggressive and devastating life situation.

This book has been written with the help and inspiration of Craig Stuart
Garner.

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 This book is offered with love, respect and gratitude
To all the Young Ones
And to the Inner Child who lives
Within us all
With the hope that with this,
And other seeds,
We may awaken to our True Essence.

To Craig Stuart Garner

Who ignites my heart in such a way!
His profound wisdom
Permeates each and every page of this book.

To Irene Louis, writer and hypnotherapist,

For her love, trust and beautiful translation
into English.
To her beloved one, Colin Louis, for his help and guidance.

To Neil Campbell for his love and

Precious friendship and brilliant work editing this creation.

To Teresa Frederick my soul-email friend

Who gave the final and loving touches of this English edition.

To my parents,
Who helped me learn the most important lesson of my life:
To keep loving, no matter what.

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 Introduction

In 2004 we witnessed with astonishment the beginning of a series of

devastating bullying actions that caused the death (suicide) of several children
in Spain. Recognising that we personally had benefited enormously from a
broad wheel of wisdom and knowledge from many of the Ancient Traditions of
the world, such as Taoist, Buddhist, traditional Native sources, and from the
modern systems and disciplines, such as modern Energy Psychology, we
realised that we both had experienced directly or indirectly some form of
bullying in our lives. From this perspective and understanding we felt that we
could share with the global community our insights and creative inspiration to
help overcome bullying.

Since we wished to offer a personal and creative view, we chose not to follow
what other groups and associations were offering in terms of practical
solutions to assist children and teenagers. Rather we chose to explore within
ourselves to find our personal insights into this matter.

The Boy Who Set Himself Free was written during one long year of creative
hard work. Writing particular pages were terribly difficult as the energies of
pain and emotional turmoil that affect anyone suffering bullying were
genuinely felt and perceived in order to be in accordance with the book.

We call this work a ‘Therapeutic Tale’ on how to overcome bullying or any

other form of aggression. The book has been written in such a way as to help
teenagers, parents, teachers or any other adult who wishes to understand the
internal dynamics of this violent form of relation. Through identifying
themselves with the main character of the story, Goyo, and following the steps
he takes to overcome bullying, gradually the reader will begin to understand
the tricks and strategies employed by bullies. Such as the mental projections
they forcefully and subtly impose on us to make us fall as victims of their
traps. We believe that in order to free ourselves from any entanglement or
limitation, we first need to understand how we became trapped in the first
place, and thus the book will gradually help us discover how the aggressor
knits their particular cruel trap for us to fall into. By following Goyo the reader
will find within their self not only the understanding but also the strength,
motivation and will to shift their perception of the situation the character is in,
and by this, reposition their self outside this violent check board not only
overcoming bullying, but more importantly, successfully transcending this
important life lesson.

The Boy Who Set Himself Free is the English version of our book CQP 1.0,
Claro Que Puedes, Una aventura para liberarte del Bullying y otras formas de
agresión, Deauno 2007. Our Spanish book has benefited many teens,

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parents, teachers and educators concerned with this social and school
problem. Currently, the Bolivian anti-bullying organisation Voces Vitales has
created a real computer program based on our book to offer all the children
and teenagers in Bolivia, the opportunity to access this information and assist
them overcome bullying in their lives. Other organisations and professionals
have shown their interest and gratitude after reading the perspective we offer,
as they have found it very beneficial in their lives and those of their young
ones. We wish that this English version will also benefit many other young
ones and not so young ones.

It is time to put an end to violence as means of relating, in schools, work,

governments, homes, societies and nations. May we all succeed in this
human challenge, with love.

Craig Stuart Garner and Barbara Meneses Montgomery

Antequera,
Southern Spain
2010

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7
 Chapter 1
Desperation
‘They’re bullying me, and there’s nothing I can do about it,’ Goyo wrote in
despair.
Crumpling the paper tightly in his left hand, the boy slid a fearful glance
at Rafa and his cohorts and gave a quiet sigh of relief. They were whispering
about a motor magazine hidden under their desk, and he breathed a heartfelt
thanks. The Spanish literature teacher was wearily dictating a poem to the
rest of the class. They were half asleep as they wrote, paying little attention to
the words growing like an ink stain on the paper in front of them. Not one
made any effort to understand, far less enjoy, the words they wove in front of
them. Still, no one could expect much on a Friday afternoon when everyone’s
attention was taken up with the coming weekend. It was certainly not taken up
with poetry.
The bell would ring soon, and he would have to face Rafa’s gang again,
Goyo thought in panic. His hands began to sweat and the crumpled paper in
them weighed heavily. To get rid of it, he hefted it out of the window beside
him, and continued writing the teacher’s dictation. ‘Why is that man is so
patient with us?’ he thought distractedly.
Suddenly, not two minutes later, a rather bigger piece of paper sailed
through the same window and landed on Goyo’s desk. ‘What on earth…’ he
wondered, before stirring himself to open it carefully. He was scared he would
get caught.
‘Set Yourself Free 1.0,’ or, if you prefer, ‘SYF 1.0, is the answer’ he read.
The bewildered pupil sat staring at the paper, trying to decide if this message
written in thick felt-tip capital letters was a reply to him personally, or simply
an accident. ‘Set Yourself Free.’ What could this possibly mean? Ducking out
of sight of the teacher and Rafa’s gang, he quickly leaned out of the window
to see who was there. The quad was deserted. There was not a soul around
except for the old gardener who was working two hundred yards away. So it
can’t be him,’ he thought dismissively. ‘Besides, the man’s too old to be
interested in computers.’
The bell was about to go off and the teacher had stopped droning on for
the last few minutes so they could revise their spelling. Goyo got up quickly,
hoping to slip away before the gang started with their insults, when yet
another crumpled piece of paper dropped in front of him. He picked it up
hastily. He had to rein in his impatience and hand in his dictation before he
could open up the message.
‘‘Set Yourself Free’ is an experimental programme which can free you
from being bullied. If you wish to try it, meet me on Monday at break time
behind the dining room. Signed: An old B.B.’
For the first time in many months, Goyo left the classroom with a feeling
of growing excitement. Maybe there was hope. The mysterious messages
occupied him enough to forget for a moment the nightmare of the constant,
indiscriminate attacks he had been suffering at the hands of Rafa and his four
friends – or rather, his cowardly toadies. Goyo was a somewhat timid lad; he
was neither tall nor short, neither good-looking nor ugly, though a bit chubby
and clumsy. Maybe that’s what made him the butt of Rafa’s angry violence

8
and venomous tongue. On one occasion Rafa had pushed him about so much
that he has nearly fallen down the stairs, but Goyo hadn’t dared to report him.
From then on, he tried to make himself invisible when Rafa was around,
thinking that maybe Rafa would eventually forget about him. But that didn’t
work. The only effect was that the rest of the class began to side with Rafa,
silently agreeing with him when he called Goyo ‘chicken’ and clucked at him.
That insult wounded Goyo deeply, in body and soul.
‘What does ‘an old B.B.’ mean? The boy pondered as he ran to the
school bus that took him to his home in the north of town. ‘B.B… Black
Baron? Boys’ Brigade? No. No, it can’t be that,’ he mused.

The weekends at home were not very happy for Goyo. His father was
always travelling, always busy with his work as chief buyer for a gift company.
His mother, an assistant in a clothes shop, spent her weekend glued to the
telephone while lying on the sofa. Her feet were sore after standing for eight
hours a day, five days a week. His little sister Luisa was the only one
disposed to join in and play with him, but Goyo, at thirteen, could not much be
bothered with her. His friends had stopped coming round as much recently,
since his parents would not him stay up as late as they were allowed to. Had
he been able to go out on the town with them, he would still have had little
inclination to do so. The bullying saw to that. Even away from school, he felt
hounded. His exam results were beginning to reflect his inability to study, and
so his academic progress was suffering too.
But that weekend, even his parents noticed a difference in him. For the
first time in a long while, Goyo smiled to himself, lost in thought about the
adventure, the challenge that was waiting for him on Monday behind the
dining room at recess. Because he was clear in his own mind: he would try his
luck with the strange prospect that had just opened up for him. ‘I have nothing
to lose and maybe much to gain,’ he told himself, ‘although to tell the truth, it
could be that all I achieve is to satisfy my curiosity. He was dying to find out
who the mystery writer was.
Monday came at long last. Goyo got up two hours early. He could not
sleep, he was so anxious. He cleaned his sports kit just enough to stop his
mother from going on at him when she inspected his bag, and then sat on his
bed to while away the time. He thought again about the odd events of the last
period on Friday, searching for some detail that may have escaped him. He
savoured every moment, looking time and again
at the two notes he had jealously guarded as his secret treasure.
Goyo was so lost in his daydream that the feeling that stole across the
back of his mind just before going down to breakfast ambushed him
completely. His face became drawn and bitter, his eyebrows went into a frown
and his stomach tightened. ‘What if the messages were sent by some
accomplice of Rafa’s and it’s all a trick?’
In a cruel twist of fate, Goyo’s world crashed around him. All the
weekend’s enthusiasm vanished in an instant and his body slumped in the
same way it did when they mocked him. His back bent, his eyes nailed
themselves to the floor, his gait became slow and unsteady, his sight misted.
In a matter of moments, the youngster’s hope had evaporated into a
shapeless mass of nervousness and dismay. He slunk away from the house,

9
hardly able to say goodbye to his mother, ashamed of himself for having
fallen, yet again, prey to his cowardice.
‘What’s up?’ asked Marta, a school friend, as she plonked herself down
beside him on the bus.
‘Nothing. I didn’t sleep well,’ Goyo muttered.
‘Done your maths for the exam?’ she continued.
‘Not very well. You know that I’m not good with numbers,’ he grunted.
‘You’re very uptight. Are you sure that you’re only worried about the
exam? Nothing else?’ Marta insisted.
Goyo shrunk his shoulders away and turned his back to his friend,
putting an end to a conversation he had no intention of pursuing. Marta was
not at all pleased, though for some time had suspected that something bad
was happening to him. ‘Problems at home or some louts at school,’ she had
speculated on more than one occasion. But Goyo was too shy to make
conversation easily, and much less with a girl.
When the bell rang, the slower students had to rush into class. The
maths teacher closed the door and began to distribute the written exam
questions. A wave of nervousness enveloped the class. Out of around twenty
pupils, only three or four were breathing normally. The rest held their breath,
hoping with all their might that the exam would not have any difficult
questions.
‘You have fifty minutes to finish,’ the teacher announced with crossed
arms. He continued keeping a beady eye on those likely to have written a crib
on their shirt cuffs.
‘You at the back! I’m watching you,’ he warned Rafa and his friend
Miguel.
Goyo dropped his shoulders and lost himself in the task of doing his best
in the exam. For a long, slow time, the only sounds in the class were the
ticking of the clock stuck high up in the centre of the wall, and an occasional
sigh of frustration.
The bell finally rang, the exam was finished at last, and now it was time
for French, much more fun and enjoyable, thank goodness. The teacher,
Madame Demailly, had the class singing French pop songs which she
accompanied on her guitar. They nicknamed the poor woman ‘The Aging
Hippy.’ And tried hard to keep a straight face when she sang so beautifully out
of tune.
During the last few minutes of a long, drawn out ballad, Goyo scrutinised
Rafa and co. They appeared to be absorbed in the task of undoing Maria’s
carefully combed plait. Maria came from Cuba, and she was upset that that
they were playing with the hair she worked so hard to keep under control. His
feelings came to the fore, and for a moment his doubts disappeared. No, it did
not seem possible that Rafa could have organised those notes to be thrown
through the window onto his desk. Somewhat calmer now, the youngster kept
an eye on his watch for the exact moment the bell would go off. He wanted to
be the first out of class in order to get to his mysterious appointment without
being seen.
At the first ring, he closed his folder and ran to the door. He was the first
into the corridor and made a superhuman effort to reach the stairs leading to
the quad without being followed. He ran at top speed through the gardens
until he reached the circular building that was the dining room. There he

10
looked left and right, making sure he had not been seen by any of the bullies
and continued his way around the side of the building to the back. Presumably
this mysterious person would be there waiting for him.
Goyo arrived panting at his destination. Truth to tell, he was not very fit,
and his legs were trembling with the unaccustomed exercise. There was no
one waiting. His heart dropped. Maybe it was all a joke. Or worse still, a
meeting with Rafa was on the cards. The anxious thoughts flitted through his
mind and he was on the point of leaving when he saw someone in the
distance.
A tall, slim girl from the final year was approaching. She wore jeans and
a red jersey and her brown hair was gathered up into a ponytail. Crossing her
arms, she leaned against the wall and looked at Goyo with a cheeky smile on
her face.
‘Waiting on anyone?’
‘M-me? You’re talking to me?’ stuttered Goyo guiltily.
‘There’s no one else here, is there? Just you, me and the air we’re
breathing.’ She replied.
Goyo was covered in embarrassment. That a last year pupil, a girl, would
speak to him was enough to leave him speechless for days. What was more,
the girl had an air of knowingness, a self-assurance and self-confidence in her
voice that left the poor boy groping for words. Whatever she said, Goyo would
appear a right fool in front of her, or at least that was how it seemed to him.
‘Was it you who threw the notes to me last Friday?’ he managed to ask,
finally.
‘Well, no, but I know who did and that’s why I’m here.’
‘Well, if you didn’t, then who did?’ Goyo’s curiosity was overcoming his
shyness.
‘Rather than who, it is more important to ask why,’ she replied
enigmatically. ‘Anyway, you’ll find out soon enough. Come with me. I am
going to introduce you to a friend.’
Goyo hurried to catch up with her. Together they left the dining room and
went into the gardens.
‘By the way, my name is Angelica,’ she said, turning towards him. My
friends call me Lika.’
‘Who are we going to see and why didn’t he come to meet me?’ Goyo
was bursting to know.
Lika stopped in front of a flowerbed. The ground had been turned over
and levelled with a red plastic rake that was lying on the ground.
‘Everything has its time, and that time is now for these chrysanthemums,’
Red, the gardener said. He came up to them with a tray of the flowers in his
hand. ‘Your time has come too, Goyo,’ he added, looking at the boy from over
his glasses, which were on the point of falling off his impressive nose.
‘O.K., boys. I’ll leave you to it. I’ve things to do.’ Angelica leapt into the
gardener’s arms and planted an enormous kiss on each of his cheeks. ‘Bye,
uncle, we’ll see you this evening. See you, mate,’ she said, turning back to
Goyo.
Goyo felt uncomfortable being left alone with the gardener. He checked
his watch to see how much of the break was left – about ten minutes, a long
time away. He stood uncertainly.

11
 ‘Bend down and help me plant these flowers,’ the man smiled. I’ve had
quite a job to clear this patch of weeds. Nature has its hooligans too, you
know. They try to stop the flowers growing.’
Without uttering a word, Goyo pulled the notes out of his pocket and held
them out, finally lifting his eyes up to look. He could not help noticing the large
false teeth exposed by the man’s smile. His weather-beaten face appeared to
be ageless.
‘You’ve already done very well, son. You see, you already have the
ability to overcome your doubts and fears,’ he said, giving Goyo an admiring
pat on the back.
Still speechless, the boy watched the gardener as he planted. He was
surprised at the gentleness those big, thick fingers were able to devote to the
task.
‘What does B.B. mean?’ he asked, unfolding the second note. His voice
had come out funny and he nervously cleared his throat.
‘B.B. is my way of saying that at one time I was bullied, but it’s not as
simple as that. I later turned into a bully as well.’
Goyo stood, wondering what to say now. An endless stream of question
flowed through his mind, but he found himself incapable of getting his mouth
round any of them.
Perhaps Red understood his mental turmoil and tried to help him out.
‘Before we begin, I want you to know that when you wrote what you did
on Friday, when you wrote with all your heart that you had had enough of the
situation you found yourself in, you began to transform yourself. In effect, you
said to the world that you are not happy with your life, and when you do that,
you open the door to tremendous change. They say that flowers can
communicate with each other, yet they are physically separate. I heard your
cry and we are together here today because I know all about the terrible
suffering you are going through. Now that you are totally fed up with it, it’s
time to do something different. You opened a door on Friday, but now I have
to ask you, are you prepared to go over the threshold?’
Goyo still said nothing. He weighed the words the gardener has spoken,
trying to figure out whether or not he could confide in him.
Red broke into the boy’s thoughts. ‘Come, hold these flowers while I
build the earth up around the stalks.’
‘So…. You can help me, sir?’
‘Call me Red. I think I can help you, yes, but the result will depend on
you and your will to succeed.’
‘That I do have, sir. Sorry, I mean, Red.’
‘Good. Look, we can’t talk now. I have things to do and the bell is about
to ring.’
‘Um, so…?’
‘Go and look for Lika and tell her to hand you the computer disk. You’ll
find the first version of my programme on it. That’s why it’s called ‘1.0’. Only
its creators have used it up to now, because it is still an experiment. Do you
want to be our second trainee?’
‘Of course!’ Goyo showed his enthusiasm. ‘But – who was the first
trainee?’
‘Lika. She was the first to try it. She doesn’t seem so badly treated by it
now, does she?’ Red winked at him.

12
 ‘No. Indeed, she looks very good,’ Goyo admitted.
‘Ahhh. You like Lika, eh?’ Red burst out laughing. ‘I’m not surprised.
She’s an enchanting creature. No need to blush, lad. Everybody likes my
niece.’
‘Oh! No, no! I didn’t mean to say that,’ the boy cried.
Red just shrugged. ‘Right, I must go. Cast an eye over the disk and if you
like we’ll talk about it on Saturday at the gym. I’m caretaker there during
football training. Can you come then?’
‘I’ll ask my parents, but I’m still not promising anything, you know,’ Goyo
replied.
Saying his goodbyes, he ran to search out the girl. Just before the bell,
he found her chatting with some friends by the library.
‘I’ve been told you have something special for me,’ he panted.
Lika took him by the arm and walked him away from her friends. Without
letting anyone see, she passed him the disk which he quickly hid in his trouser
pocket.
‘I don’t want my friends to hear. This is our secret. So-o, you’ve decided
to become our new guinea pig?’ she queried immediately.
‘I don’t know. I – I think so,’ he answered. I have to go. And – um -
thanks,’ he threw the words over his shoulder as he escaped any more
awkward questions.
The rest of the day, the boy patted his back trouser pocket every ten
minutes in order to make sure the disk was still there. For the first time in
ages, he paid no attention to Rafa and his gang. He was too delighted, lost in
trying to figure out what this piece of blue plastic with ‘SYF1.0’ written on it
could contain.

13
 Chapter 2
Discovering the Programme

That evening, Goyo kissed his parents goodnight as soon as he had

finished dinner, telling them that he had to do some studying before going to
bed. Once in his room, he turned on the computer, and sighed deeply with
impatience for the machine to start up. The sound of his excited heartbeat
finally merged with the Windows jingle. He inserted the disk and sat back in
his chair.

The screen went dark, and then pictures of young people smiling in
front of an enormous rainbow came up. At last the programme started:

SYF1.0

Or, if you prefer, Set Yourself Free 1.0

An experimental programme to free you from bullying and

change your life. It will give you confidence, energise you and help
you to feel good, in other words, help you set yourself free.

Hello and welcome to SYF. Are you tired of being bullied,

attacked and insulted, put down by others, either at school or where
you live? And do you feel you have done nothing to deserve such
treatment? Are you left friendless because some people are
spreading rumours about you? Or are you left alone because you
feel you do not fit in, that you do not exist in the eyes of others?
Whether you are the target of practical jokes, insults and attacks
because someone, or a group of others, have decided make YOU
their scapegoat, or whether you feel you are simply scared of your
own shadow, experiencing shame or blame whatever the situation,
then this programme is for you. If you suffer from an inability to act
whenever you are attacked or feel that there is no answer to or any
way out of your problems, whatever they may be, then please, before
you explode or do something silly, please read this.

Goyo sat straight up in his chair. The first few sentences had dragged
his feelings down into his boots. Up until then, he had never seen the exact

14
problems he had been suffering every day for the last six months written
down. The clear, forceful phrases hit him hard. He started to relive some of
the scenes of Rafa’s attacks. It felt as if the gang was always on top of him,
crushing him, not letting him breathe or be himself. He was suffocating right
then simply with the weight of his memories, and was on the point of shutting
off the programme. He wanted to run and hide under the bedclothes, and
pretend that his nightmare did not exist, just as he had so many times before.

But this time at the back of his mind he also heard the quiet voice of
the old gardener inviting him to continue reading, to accept the help he was
offering.’ What have you got to lose by trying this?’ Goyo read. It was as if
SYF was not just a computer programme. It was a step ahead of him,
watching his reactions like someone in real life.

You have absolutely nothing to lose and everything to gain.

Come on, follow me, grab your mouse, move the cursor to the green
arrow and click on it. That’s all you need to do!

Goyo hesitated briefly. He felt that there was not much point stirring up
all these old wounds, and if this was what the programme was going to do, he
preferred to stay as he was. But the old gardener’s encouraging voice came
back into his mind, tugging at him. ‘All right then. What the heck! Let’s get
going, click on the cursor, coward.’ Goyo pushed the button on the mouse and
the programme continued:

SYF has been especially designed not to cause you any

suffering while you work with it. Indeed, you will very soon begin to
smile and laugh. This adventure that you are about to embark on
can transform your life for the better. But before we begin, we wish
to explain why we have chosen to communicate with you via a
computer programme, because

The programmes that run your life

Although this is an over-simplified example, it is sometimes

useful to think of the human mind as a computer programme. A
programme is merely a series of commands made in a language
the computer understands so that it can carry out its tasks. We are
forever introducing new programmes. A student of piano learns by
introducing a programme that translates the notes he sees into a

15
physical action that produces music. Another example is when we
learn maths. We send instructions to our brain to help us
understand the language of numbers, which is a skill we use every
day, when we shop, for instance.

Our parents have the job of introducing the first programmes

into our mind. They take it for granted that what they are doing is
for our good, and instil in us their beliefs and ideas with the
intention of helping us, protecting us and making us behave
acceptably. But it is important for you to understand that our
parents, too, have programmes in their heads. They act according
to the customs handed down to them from their parents, and their
parents’ parents, and so on. Society and their own experiences
have also influenced them. So as we grow up, the personal
computer in our minds already contains a huge storeroom of
programmes, though we are unaware of most them because they
are automatic. For instance, we pull our hand away from the
burning fire and cover our face when we are about to be hit without
thinking. Other programmes are obviously a bit more complicated.

Friends, teachers and people who have a certain amount of

authority and who repeat a message over and over also insert
their command on us .These persons with their own belief systems,
write programmes on our minds that we will use, though we do it
mostly unconsciously and automatically. We do write our own
programmes as well and thus, our personal computer contains our
conclusions about life, based on our background, experience,
perceptions, opinions, beliefs, fears and desires. Problems, too,
can transform into programmes that condition our beliefs and
therefore our actions. It’s rather a muddle, isn’t it? Since we rarely
revise our programmes, we find some are incompatible with each
other. When that happens, our computer freezes and we have no
idea what to do. That’s when we fall into a period of confusion or
even crisis, a time when pulling out the old beliefs, revising and
installing new ones is especially hard to do.

The more we use a programme, the more it becomes a

habit, so forming a part of our life script. The life script directs our
behaviour, and therefore it is important for us to find out what
programmes we are running. Some are simply out of date and no
longer practical – they could even be damaging. Yet others support
us and help us to feel better about ourselves.

What kind of programmes would you choose to run?

Because the good news is that despite this apparent chaos, we do
have a choice. To understand that we are masters of our fate is
very important, because it makes us realise that we can totally free
ourselves from past programming. For example, if we want to be
victims in whatever situation, we go with the programmes that say
so; but if what we want is to come out on top in life’s challenges, we

16
can choose those programmes which help and encourage us, so
increasing our inner strength.

In the case of bullying, the first programme we turn on is

actually our attacker’s. It sounds strange, but an attacker has
programmed our minds with the false idea that he is the more
powerful, that he can crush us and that we are poor, defenceless
victims quite unable to defend ourselves. This is the first issue we
need to deal with, because it is a lie. It is, as we shall see later,
simply a tactic of war.

So, why would someone want to add another programme

called SYF to their hard drive? Well, SYF will help you to erase,
create and use your programmes to your best advantage in
whatever situation you choose to focus on. Once you have learned
it, you can expand this knowledge into other areas of your life. By
using SYF, you will help the computer within you to function at its
best, so leading to an increased sense of personal happiness and
well-being. We have chosen the theme of bullying at school for this
programme because it is so common, but you can use it for any
situation you feel you need help with to overcome reactions and
ways of being that stop you from being happy. Bullying is on the
increase, all over the world, where it is causing great concern and a
great number of young people suffer because of it.

‘Bullying’ starts with the word ‘bull’, and you know the phrase
‘a bull in a china shop’? Just imagine a bull in a china shop. They’re
not an ideal partnership, are they? On the one hand we have an
enormous bull in all its might and glory and on the other hand we
have delicate, fragile china. We are on tenterhooks, fearing the bull
will smash everything in less than the blink of an eye. Imagine the
bull lumbering through the door of the shop. Will it tiptoe around the
shop, careful not to damage anything? Or will it charge through
destroying everything in its path? Because the bull has no
programme within it to say that china is either breakable or
saveable. The bull can only act according to its animal nature, and
china is china - fragile. And a shop is too small a place for the two
to exist together in harmony, right? Bullying is a repeated and
systematic harassment of one person by another. It happens when
one person believes he has power over another. The bully abuses
others, attacking their weakest points and the effect is not just
physical, but mental and emotional too. The bull is smashing the
delicate pieces of china.

Bullying occurs not just in schools. It happens in all walks of

life – at work between colleagues, between boss and employee, at
home between parents and between parents and children. It is not
new, but there has been a growing awareness of it in modern
times. Nations bully each other too. There is no point in deceiving
ourselves. All humanity contains the seeds of aggression in its

17
 genes. And if, even today, decent and civilised countries resort to
war and aggression to resolve conflict, it is because the seeds of
bullying are always ready to sprout up within us. The good news is
that we have within us the seeds of peace too, and they offer much
better fruit.

Bullying is not a joke. It has serious consequences which

can drag us down for life. A person, once traumatised by bullying,
can continue to repeat the behaviours provoked by an attack for
years afterwards. When the memories are stirred up by new
situations, they affect work and personal relationships, even
physical health. A victim who has not recovered from his wound,
could easily carry his unhappiness with him for the rest of his life
and this of course could affect the lives of those around him. No
one deserves such an unhappy future. That is why we are working
hard to help make your future brilliant and full of opportunity, one
that you will be eager to make the most of, because you deserve
to. Yes, you do deserve to.

Let’s come back to the example of the bull in the china shop.
When we are involved in an attack, the bully or aggressor appears
to take on the stature of a bull in front of his victim. He has his
cronies around him who puff him up and cheer him on, so he
already has the upper hand. His victim unconsciously buys into the
big, strong image of his tormentor, so he feels smaller and weaker
with each attack. The bully is sure to select his target carefully
beforehand, making sure he knows the other’s weak points and
shortcomings. He knows just how to manipulate the’ delicate china’
so that it is easy to break when he strikes with cruel efficiency.

So, even before an assault, the aggressor has already won

most of the battle. The victim starts to install a distorted
programme, which is far removed from reality. If you want to free
yourself from all this, it’s useful to understand how your attacker
thinks and feels; how he singles outs his targets while managing to
stay friendly with everybody else. It is important to understand the
tools he uses, so that you can turn them back on him. However,
SYF is not about teaching you to be a bully; rather it’s about to
transform yourself so that his tricks won’t affect you as they have
up to now. You will be able to stand aside from them, and therefore
no longer be prey to his games.

Goyo stopped, a tumult of emotions overwhelming him. Was this

possible? He wanted so much to believe, but was scared it would not work for
him. He felt he was on a seesaw, his head was swimming, and he was about
to close the computer down when the next heading caught his eye. I do want
to read this, he thought, and settled himself down, ready to continue:

18
 The Story of a bully called Red

Quite a few years ago now, I too, was a victim. My father

was an alcoholic who worked hard as a miner in northern Spain. He
used to come home drunk every night. He would push aside
anybody who got in his way as he lurched his way to the kitchen in
search of his bottle and a bite to eat. He hardly spoke, unless it was
to hurl insults at my mother and us kids. We hardly dared breathe.
We had to carry out his orders immediately exactly the way he liked
or else he would hit us hard with his big, calloused, coal-black
hands. More than once I went to school with my face black and
blue. I was so ashamed of the bruises I used to wind a scarf around
my face and not allow anyone to take it off.

In time, after repeated beatings, I began to imitate his

behaviour and without realising it, began to act just like him. I put
aside my gentle, friendly nature and became angry and rebellious. I
sought out fights all the time. Whatever the size of my opponents,
they were all the same to me. My father’s blows had hardened my
body, so nobody could hurt me. I lost all fear, and became the best
fighter in the school. I was proud that the rest respected and feared
me and I increasingly wanted to dominate people and events. I felt
that they looked up to me for my strength and that pleased me a
lot. That was quite different from how I felt at home, since my father
was becoming more and more violent. The beatings grew worse;
he used to drag us by the hair around the house. I felt as if I was a
complete coward incapable of defending myself at home, but at
school I took advantage of every situation to prove how brave I
was. That is how I became a B.B. – Bullied Bully.

Goyo yawned, despite himself. Much as he wanted to keep reading,

sleep was overtaking him. He ejected the disk and hid it in a pile of books,
turned off the computer and fell into bed. It was one in the morning, and there
were only six hours left before the alarm clock would screech at him. Goyo
spent a lovely few minutes imagining life without Rafa and co. ganging upon
him. He was surprised about Red, though. The gardener looked so calm and
good-natured, yet his father had hurt him so badly. On top of that, he had
become a bully himself. ‘I would never have dreamed that anyone who
attacked me could be suffering too. Attacked by his own father after school.
That would explain a lot,’ he decided. Then tiredness overcame him,
interrupting his thoughts and soon he fell asleep.

That night, Goyo had a dream in which he became involved in a fight at

school. Yet again, Rafa and his gang surrounded him at the dining room door

19
and began insulting him and throwing things at him. At first, Goyo had no idea
what they were throwing, but then he saw they were throwing balls of energy
and the insults they were gleefully hurling at him took the form of black clouds,
which stuck to his body. The dark stains were infecting and suffocating him.
Suddenly, the music teacher, a woman whom all the pupils liked, came up to
him and said something nice. Goyo saw her words as balls of pink energy that
caressed him, floated through him and off into the horizon while the blackness
remained stuck to his body. Feeling smothered, the boy awoke.

Once at school, still yawning from the restless night, Goyo waited
impatiently for the break so that he could go looking for Red or Lika. He had
lots of questions. He could not find the girl anywhere and, running panting
back and forth throughout the school, gave up his attempts to find Red too.
He sat down thankfully on a bench in order to catch his breath.

‘Hi, kid,’said Red, suddenly appearing. ‘Bored already with the

programme?’ he teased.

‘It’s all right, but it’s left me tired.’ Goyo’s eyelids drooped. ‘Red, last
night I had a strange dream... ‘

The gardener put his tools down next to the bench, and rubbed the
sweat from his forehead with his denim shirtsleeve before replacing his cap.
After hearing Goyo’s tale, he said, ‘I find your dream interesting. You will find
out further on in the programme that the power of words is incredible. Your
dream has taught you that words are energy. They come and go so quickly,
just like the thoughts flashing through your mind, so that you are unable to
catch them. But when negative words such as insults are hurled at you they
can really hurt. They stick and harden on the body that receives them. The
dream is telling you that when they insult us, we can feel the burden of that
insult for years afterwards. If we are unable to dislodge it, we can feel bad,
suffocated. On the other hand, when the music teacher says something nice,
she shows you how glowing positive words are, what a lovely colour they are
and how their energy is kinder, lighter, revitalising. They pass through your
body and disappear into the horizon. Words, their intention and the energy
behind them should pass through you, never stay stuck on you. That is the
key, remember that.’

Goyo was surprised by the man’s wisdom, but he was late. He had to
say goodbye and run to the gym, where he felt the most vulnerable to Rafa,
Miguel, Jorge and Javi’s attacks. Goyo was not happy with his chubbiness.
Since he hated gym and sports, his body was not exactly fit. The teacher
made them run a thousand metres every week, which he did with ill grace,
wishing he were miles away instead of stuck here getting out of breath and
being pounced upon. He tried to escape by imagining he was in a workshop
building aeroplanes – his life’s dream.

20
 ‘Hey, you! What a tub of lard you are, little Goyo.’ Rafa was coming at
him on the run in the last stretch.

The boy, surprised by the suddenness of the attack, said nothing. His
body tensed and his heart sank as he tried to make himself small and
invisible. His shoulder hunched forward, as if he bore an enormous weight on
them. He hardly had the strength to reach the finishing line, but since that was
his only hope of escape, he pushed on. Once he reached the safety of
stadium steps, Goyo remembered his dream of the night before as he was
getting his breath back. It really did feel as if Rafa’s insult remained in his
body and weighed him down. Those wounding words would be with him all
day, depressing him a little more each time he heard them. He hardly tasted
his sandwich at lunchtime, embarrassed at being seen eating. That would
doubtlessly provoke more barbs about his weight, he thought. Goyo furtively
kept back bits of bread in his lunch pack. If he felt hungry, he could always eat
them later in the school toilets. He was ashamed of having to sneak his food
and blamed himself for not being more courageous. The only way he knew to
defend himself was to make himself small.

At last he was alone in his room that night. Goyo felt he could relax a
little, and in somewhat better spirits, decided to carry on with the disk. As he
was finding the place where he left off with his cursor, his eye caught the
following sentence:

An insult is also a programme in your mind. It is up to you to

decide if you let it spread like gangrene within you or if you let it
pass through you and vanish without being able to touch you.

The boy smiled. He was beginning to understand. He sighed deeply as

he began reading where he had previously left off.

The terrible truth

In the same way that alcoholics are able to deny that they
have a drinking problem to themselves as well as to others, few
people recognise themselves as being B.B.’s, the bullied bullies.
They just cannot see that they are bullies, much less that they are
bullied. When your body and soul is bruised from all the hidings you
have received, sometimes the only way to survive is to block your
mind to what is happening. If you are very young, this happens
spontaneously and you grow up, on one level, blissfully unaware of

21
 the damage others have caused. However, even if you forget, the
damage continues to affect every aspect of your life.

This very thing happened to me when I turned myself into

Red, the school bad boy. Each aggressive act gave me a thirst for
more, egged me on to more brutality. No insult was too outrageous,
and I wanted to thump anyone who got in my way. And then, one
fine day, the worst happened.

One spring morning – I remember it as if it were yesterday –

I was picking on the only foreign student in the school. That was
enough reason for me to attack him. I was hurling abuse at him as I
tried to trip him up. The lad was trying to stop himself from falling
and dropping the books he carried in his arms. He grabbed hold of
Teresa, a girl with a sweet smile and sparkling eyes, who had the
bad luck to be passing by. He fell heavily right on top of her, with
enough force to smash her head on the ground so that she lost
consciousness. It was all my fault.

The group of kids who up to that point were watching us

without saying anything, rushed up to see the other two. I was left
alone, paralysed and horrified by what had happened. For the first
time in my life, I felt that I had done something terrible, which I
would surely regret for the rest of my days. Not only had I attacked
an innocent boy, I had knocked out a girl who, at that time, I
considered goodness personified.

Teresa never regained consciousness. In the hospital, she

fell into a deep coma and remained in it for years, until one day her
life slipped quietly away.

A victim can turn himself into an aggressor in the blink

of an eye. Never forget that.

‘God, this is so awful. Does this programme ever lighten up?’ Goyo
said to himself, He had to stop reading, it was taking too much out of him. His
throat tightened at what he recognised was the sincerity of the words. ‘If that
was what Red’s childhood was like, he would feel terrible. Attacked by his
father on the one hand, and on the other responsible for killing a young girl. I
shouldn’t like to be in his shoes,’ he sighed, overwhelmed at the knowledge.

Yet again it was as if SYF had reached into his mind. The next bit
caught his attention:

22
 I can tell this story now. It is the worst thing you will read in
SYF. From here on, you can breathe easy. You needed to
understand the terrible consequences that can result from being
both a victim and a bully. The bully has no idea either, of how to
resolve his predicament.

Before I continue, I must emphasise that no matter what

happens next, you must abide by these simple rules if you know of
a case of bullying – whether you are a witness, a victim or a bully
yourself:

1. Tell a teacher or someone responsible in school.

2. Tell your parents if you are being bullied.

3. If you are the aggressor, stop immediately and seek

help from your teachers and parents. They will be able to put you in
the hands of an expert therapist. There is no need to be ashamed
of asking for help. Dealing with your problems in time can save
your life as well as possibly the lives of others.

Learning how the bully operates

The bullying techniques are neither good nor bad. They are
either techniques of war or techniques of peace, for it all depends
on how they are used.

On reading the heading, Goyo straightened in his chair. He glued his

eyes to the screen and bored into it as if to penetrate the text and suck up the
knowledge. He rubbed his hands, sure he was about to get to the heart of
SYF, find the tools he could use to put an end, once and for all, to all his
problems in class.

‘What are you doing still up?’ his mother shouted from the hallway.
‘Turn off that blessed machine, we can hear the fan all over the house. It’s
late. Go to bed,’ she growled.

Goyo’s joy melted its way down through him. He had to do as he was
told, even though he was desperate to find out more. Frustrated, he turned off
the computer and went reluctantly to bed.

23
 That night he slept well. At dawn, as the first light crept through his
window, he woke. For the first time in a long while, he did not need his alarm
clock. He showered and dressed in the twinkling of an eye, desperate to make
use of the extra time to read some more. But in vain. His mother came into his
room and saw the chaos of dirty clothes, shoes, books, empty drink cans and
cups and plates about to moulder. She planted her feet firmly in front of him
and promised not to move an inch until he had tidied up this ‘revolting mess’.
Not understanding why his mother got into such a tizz over what was his
room, after all, Goyo mutely obeyed.

The day flew by. Maths, physics, literature, art. The classes marched
past without a hitch. His tormentors paid him no attention. It was Wednesday
and there was a big match on between Real Madrid and Barca, which kept
the gang occupied as they debated the merits of the various players.

At home, everything had been laid out for an early dinner in order to
watch the match. Goyo took the opportunity to slip away quietly to his room.
He switched on the computer and the red lamp beside it, and began again.

Bullies behave in almost exactly the same way. Their strategies

are very similar. Some may be aware of what they are doing and
vary their tactics. If unaware, they will simply repeat the patterns
they have learned. But if you are aware of how bullies operate and
make use of the knowledge, you will learn to use the same tricks
for your own benefit, so that you can better avoid attacks and
minimise their effects. Our wish is that, with all you are learning
here, you can go a step further and not only avoid hurt and
suffering; you will also manage, by your example, to sow the seeds
of peace instead of hate; sow equality where once there was power
and domination.

Cutting the bogeyman down to size: the bully programme

We all like to impress others and we take a lot of care to make

them like and respect us. The bully also spends a great deal of time
polishing the image he portrays. The difference between him and
the rest is that he uses fear to gain respect, while others seek it
through forming relationships that offer friendship and peace.

The bully puts a lot of energy into creating his hardpan image.
He is strong, fearless, and courageous, capable of settling any
problems - and the more dangerous they are, the better. He is
impetuous and daring. At least, that is the image he projects.

24
(Inside, you will be surprised to learn that the bully is full of
complicated fears, and we shall talk more about this later.)

The bully is a master of deception. His deceptions are so

powerfully hypnotic that, temporarily at least, we completely accept
them. We believe he is so strong that there is no use our fighting
him, and that is how we end up being his victims. However, the
bully is not the only one taken in. He has spent so much time with
his plans to dominate us, that he has ended up fooling himself too.
As you will already have suspected, this is nothing more than a
programme, one of brainwashing. In order to make you accept his
programme without resisting, the bully uses a battery of techniques
with his body language, his verbal language and his emotional
language.

He holds his body in such a way that, walking or resting, he

comes across as dominant, aggressive and defiant. Maybe he
cultivates a bow-legged walk, like a cowboy. His chest is puffed out
and his head looks straight ahead, just like a turkey’s. His hands
are on his belt, he struts around as if he owns the ground he walks
on, he kicks bins and stones that are in his way, he sits on car
bonets and audaciously looks at you with a frown as if he would
destroy you – and so on. If you react with fear to these gestures,
even unconsciously, the bully will know that he is winning the
game. Your own body language shows him. It becomes defensive
as you shrink away from him and physically you clam up. That way
he knows that you are accepting his domination and responding to
it.

The same happens with verbal and emotional language. The

bully usually has a quick tongue and doesn’t mince his words. He
has as big a stock of insults, swearwords and expressions as is
necessary to show his audience his ingenuity, leaving you looking
completely ridiculous. He also uses his voice with authority. It is
strong and firm and successfully controls both his victim and his
public. You will never see a bully, be it boy or girl, trying to please
with a baby voice, right?

Emotionally, the bully uses mockery to engineer fear, shame

and blame, because you feel wounded deep down inside. The bully
loves this tool, and well knows how to use it for maximum effect. He
chooses his victims carefully, looking for those who, because of
their backgrounds, are easily wounded, insecure, timid and
introverted. They are easy prey when he attacks. If a bully suspects
that he might provoke the beast that we all have within us, he
would not dare run the risk of exposing himself to failure in front of
the rest. The bully plays to win. He has much to lose by taking
unnecessary risks: his own invincibility.

25
 The very same thing happened to me once. After the terrible
accident that left Teresa in a coma, my mother transferred me to
another school. There, traumatised by what had happened, I
abandoned my old ways and became once again the quiet boy,
though somewhat more reserved than before. One grey, rainy day,
one of the bigger boys decided to pick on me. He took my
schoolbag and threw it on the ground. He trampled upon my
exercise books and caked them with mud. Then the gang looked at
me defiantly to see how I was going to react. They probably
thought I was either going to run away or start to cry. Other kids
had surrounded us and were watching expectantly. I bent down to
pick up my things and put them back slowly into my bag. When I
had finished, I rolled up my sleeves, which showed them the
bruises my father was still giving me, put up my fists and said in a
stern voice:

‘So, which one of you will be the first to pay?’

There was a heavy silence. The circle around me melted away,

and the boys who were attacking me disappeared very quickly.
They never picked on me again. What’s more, they soon wanted
me to join their gang and sent me a thousand and one friendly
messages to persuade me. But their games did not interest me.
Where the path of aggression leads to was deeply ingrained in my
heart.

Goyo was nervous of using the staircase to the school’s north wing.
The older students had the habit of gathering there and chatting, blocking the
way of the others, who were forced into single file to make a passage through
the middle of them. Each time he went there, Goyo’s breathing constricted,
his stomach tightened and his eyes grew foggy. He felt he was enclosed in a
tunnel. His body tense, he trudged up and down without seeing anyone,
scared of provoking an attack from someone bigger than he was.

‘Hey, kid!’ Lika shouted as she saw him in the narrow passage.

‘Oh! Hi! I didn’t see you.’ Goyo’s head dropped and he nailed his eyes
to the floor.

‘Well, it’s obvious you haven’t learned anything much from SYF, eh?‘
She took his arm and led him away from the staircase.

‘How? Why?’ he said, startled.

‘I only have to look at you,’ she replied, eying him up and down.

26
 ‘Why? Why are you saying that?’ Goyo exclaimed. He inspected his
own body, looking up and down, scrutinising every inch. He found no stain on
his clothes or anything unusual in his appearance.

‘The way you walk says it all. The way you drag your feet, the way you
look down to hide your face, the way you hunch your shoulders – they all say
to the world that you are frightened to death. That’s an open invitation to all to
attack you. You’d be a walkover.’

‘Do you really think so?’

‘Absolutely. I’ve been through everything that you are suffering right
now, you know. I went around just like you are doing, but when I changed how
I moved, I proved to myself how things change when you look self-assured.’

‘And how can I look self-assured?’ Goyo raised his eyes hopefully.

‘Watch how you walk. Find a big mirror – one of those you can see
your whole body in. Stand in front of it, walk, greet your friends, pretend you’re
in all sorts of situations, and observe how you move. Some gestures are the
same throughout the world. If you walk straight with your head up, feet firmly
planted on the ground, arms open and your weight evenly distributed on your
legs, with your knees flexible, you are saying that you are open and receptive,
confident and friendly, ready to connect with others. Movements that close
your body up, like folding your arms, stooping to make yourself look smaller,
lowering your chin and looking down to the ground, having your hands in your
pocket, wringing your hands – they are all signs of looking inward, and in
some cases of nervousness, fear, lack of confidence, insecurity – you name
it.’

‘And how do I look?’ Goyo asked.

‘I see you looking frightened and suspicious. How you walk and your
body language tells me you don’t want me near you because you are scared
I’ll bother you. You can’t do that, Goyo. You have to stop it. You cannot let
other people mess up your life! You deserve to be happy, to enjoy school.
You really don’t have to suffer unnecessarily.’

‘So what do I do?’ Goyo asked anxiously.

‘Watch your body language, keep on reading SYF and look to make
small changes every day. Step by step, you will get better.’ Lika hugged him.

‘So how will all that help if they keep on bothering me?’ he asked, half
suffocated by the warmth of her embrace.

‘Have you heard of the butterfly effect?’

‘No.’

27
 Some meteorologists suggested years ago that the beat of a butterfly’s
wing in Tokyo could produce an earthquake in California. That, in effect,
means that small actions can have enormous consequences and that, if you
take one small step in the right direction, you will soon see a positive change.
Mine changed, so why not yours?’

Lika gave him a motherly kiss on the cheek and ran back to her class.
The boy remained pensive. His hands unconsciously stroked his chin, and
then he scratched his head. For the first time, he noticed what he was doing.
He would have been unaware of what he was doing before now. ‘O.K. So
when I think, I touch my chin and my head. I never knew that before,’ he
murmured.

That night, at home, Goyo slipped into his parents’ bedroom and
looked at himself in their big mirror. He saw that his back was clearly
beginning to curve and that his head, following the curve, bent forward so that
his chin almost touched his collar bone. Once he realised that what he was
doing had become a habit, he straightened up and walked tall for a few steps.
He immediately felt better, as if the change in his posture raised his spirits.

‘Hi! My name is Goyo,’ he said in a deep voice, mimicking the accent of

a cowboy in a western. He smiled in amusement. He stuck his hands in his
pockets and as he arched his shoulders forward, his behind stuck out too.
Something in the gesture reminded him of a poster he had seen of the famous
American rebel James Dean.

‘Move smoothly, my dark-haired one, smoothly with grace’ his mother

sang softly as she opened the door. ‘Do you remember, son? From when you
were little you used to pretend in front of the mirror to make me laugh… It’s
good to look at the way you walk, because when you slouch, as you do
sometimes, you will end up round-shouldered when you are older. I have to
take good care with my posture because I stand all day at work – otherwise I
couldn’t do it.’ She planted a kiss on his cheek and left the bedroom.

Goyo’s initial sheepishness at being discovered gave way to reflection

on her words as he went back to his computer and carried on with SYF. She
was right, he concluded.

Building inner confidence

Little Red, the one in the second school, had little difficulty
staying away from the bullies. Can you figure out what he did to
stay free of the trap set for him?

28
 In the first instance, his whole body gave off the vibes that he
was undisturbed. The others could see that from the deliberate way
he picked up his books and jotters. Secondly, breathing easily and
concentrating on what he was doing in order not to be distracted,
he rolled up his sleeves and showed his bruises. Thus, without
saying anything, he let the others know that he had been hit before
and that this did not worry him one jot. It is important that you
understand that Red did not see himself as a victim, rather that he
was a survivor. Finally, his voice was solemn when he asked who
would be the first to pay. Words carry much more weight when you
pick the right moment to speak after a bit of silence. That is why
they had enough impact to stop the attack before it got worse. His
bullies, like everyone else would in a battle situation, took stock of
the situation from the non-verbal language Red gave off. They
instinctively knew that it was not worth fighting him, because they
would end up losing. In the game of poker, they call what he did a
bluff. We don’t recommend that you do the same, though, because
what Red did could be risky in other circumstances. Nevertheless,
in this instance it worked, and it is a good example in that it shows
how you can counter-programme – that is, use the same tactics as
the bullies against them. Red used verbal and body language to cut
the bullies down to size and convinced the rest that it would be best
to leave him alone, without raising a finger to prove anything. He
may have been scared inside, but he did not show it. He decided to
bluff, and managed to give off a sense of enough self-confidence to
make his opponents doubt themselves.

All bullies are looking for a certain reaction from you. If you don’t
react in this way, a large part of their desire for a fight will
disappear. You are immediately less interesting to them. What’s
more, if they see that you are not frightened, you make them doubt
their ability to win. They will think twice before they risk a fight with
you.

Another important detail is that Red did not feel or appear a

victim. The message he sent was that the he had won other fights,
was used to them and thus had a lot of experience. Red put his
whole attitude behind the message that whatever force they used
to cow him would not be enough. That is important, because bullies
have no inner strength. They rely on strategies that have no real
basis. They are loudmouths who con and lie. If confronted by a big,
powerful type, they would run a mile. Their strength is not real. Our
only true strength lies within ourselves, and we can construct that if
we set our minds to it.

Remember that. A bully has no true strength because he dare

not look inside himself. He therefore lives on the surface, able to
scheme his way to convince others of his power by using tricks.
With SYF, you will overcome him because we will help you to look
inside and connect with your inner strength.

29
 ‘But Red was new to the school. Nobody knew if he was a coward or
not,’ exclaimed Goyo. ’If Rafa and co, who have known me all my life, see me
acting as if I were courageous, they would know it was a lie and that I was
acting. They’d lynch me!’ He decided to make a note to ask Red or Lika about
that when he next saw them. Satisfied with his decision, he scrolled down the
text ready to read again.

In spite of his doubts, he was becoming more and more interested in

the program. Goyo had never bothered to analyse how an attack developed
before, nor how his opponents behaved. His body language, the words he
used – they were all a mystery to him. ‘Well, I suppose it’s a new way of
looking at the world,’ he mused all excited.

Appearance, imagination and feeling

There is a huge difference between having self-confidence

and appearing to have it. But appearing to have an attitude that you
have not yet made a part of yourself is a good start. It moves you in
the right direction towards your desired goal. Remember this
advice, because it will help you a great deal in your life whenever
you feel afraid in new situations.

Behaving as if you know perfectly what to do enables you to

feel confident because you are sending yourself a message that
you are prepared. You send a positive message, rather than one
that says ‘I’m hopeless and helpless.’ This last one tells yourself
that you are worthless, that you do not deserve even to try, so you
are defeated before you start. What you imagine, you appear.
Which do you prefer to project? The brain responds to imagination
as if it were real – it can sometimes even confuse actual and
imaginary events. Have you ever had a dream you thought was
real, at least for a time? So, if you imagine you are strong,
courageous and capable of dealing with difficult situations in your
life, imagine you are calm and make the best kind of decisions, in
time you will appear more self-confident. Your experiences will then
begin to confirm that you are self-confident. You have resources
that enable you to come out on top in whatever circumstances.

Your imagination is one of the most powerful tools you have.

Top sportsmen use it. What separates the good from the great is
their mental ability to see themselves winning easily. They
visualise scoring a goal, coming first in a race, being the one to
make the highest jump, and so on. It is part of their training. But
everyone can do it. We are all capable of making something
happen for ourselves if we desire it with every fibre of our being.

30
Then we become what we have imagined. Our self-confidence
becomes real, and others feel it when they are around you.

So, the first suggestion SYF has for you is to realise that the
bullies are forcing you to believe their ‘bully’ programme. If you
understand this when you are being attacked, you will begin to see
what is happening with new eyes. You will no longer be hypnotised,
as a mouse is before a snake. You will be more centred and able to
access your inner resources so that the bullies can no longer
manipulate you as before. You will wake as if from a dream and no
longer see yourself as a victim. Rather, you are a survivor. This
technique alone will not win the battle for you, but you will make
great strides forwards with it. You will not be psyched out
beforehand by the apparent strength of your opponent. If you know
it is a mirage, you will already feel stronger.

SYF’s second suggestion is that you choose your feelings

and emotions to further your own best interests. Your feelings as a
victim are obviously very different to your feelings as a winner.
Prove it to yourself by imagining that you have been a victim of an
attack. Someone had pinched your briefcase and attacked you.
Where is that feeling in your body? What is it like? Can you name it
– e.g. bad, beaten, worthless, insecure, vulnerable? Next, imagine
that you have emerged victorious from an encounter. You have
stopped two people from attacking you, you have managed to
appear calm and everyone admired you for it. How do you feel
now, and where is that feeling? Good, proud of being so clever?
Confident? Optimistic about your life?

Remember: you are the captain of your own ship – your

inner self. You can choose your emotions. Haven’t you just proved
it to yourself with this exercise? You can feel whatever you choose
simply by thinking. Try it again. If you think yourself a winner when
being attacked, your whole body will respond and you will be in a
better position to deal with the situation than if you had weakened
yourself with negative thinking beforehand. What you imagine does
not need to be based on reality. Even if you have never emerged
as a winner before, you can still imagine it. That will be enough to
get you used to the feelings and, if you do this often enough, in
time you will make them a part of you. Then they will be there for
you when you need them.

There is another exercise that you can practise when you

see films on TV or in the cinema. Choose a character you see as
strong, resourceful and knows how to deal with delicate situations.
Identify with him. Imagine you are in his body, able to solve the
difficulties he encounters in the film. You have the intelligence and
strength to do it. But do watch that you do not put yourself down in
this exercise. It is not about thinking that you do not have these
qualities yourself, while the hero has them all. You have these

31
qualities too. The only difference is that, up to now, you have not
had the chance to explore them. Sooner or later, practising this
exercise will enable you to realise that these qualities are a part of
you. You know, you have always had the seeds of confidence and
self-confidence within you. You just needed to realise that fact.
Watching a film or reading a book can be more than simple
pastimes. They are marvellous doors to open up your imagination.
Beyond the doors exists a whole realm of possibilities. Believe us
when we say that realm is huge and largely unexplored – but it is
there. If you do not know how to react in a certain circumstances,
remember a film that will help you. What did the hero do? Then you
are back in charge of yourself. Imagine the actor is there with you
and that you are not alone with a gang of bullies. You will be calmer
if you believe that you are protected by your heroes, won’t you? Of
course! What is stopping you from visualising all your heroes
beside you, guarding your back and helping you to resolve the
situation in the best possible way? If you visualise them intensely –
and that needs practice – we guarantee that the bully will feel
something different is happening, he will feel your power and think
twice before attacking.

Breathing

Another key to helping yourself in difficult situations is your

breathing. Breathing is such an automatic function of the body that
we rarely pay it any attention. The majority of us breathe badly,
superficially, as if we fear opening up to life by filling our lungs with
air. Sending oxygen into all the cells of our bodies is most important
for our physical, mental and emotional well-being.

Our breathing changes according to the situations we find

ourselves in. Notice how you breathe when you are lying relaxed in
bed. Or, if you have a baby in the house, watch how it breathes. In
both these instances, the breathing is abdominal, which means that
when you breathe in, your abdomen rises and when you breathe
out, the diaphragm rises and the stomach falls. In this calm sate,
we usually breathe deeply, without hyperventilating, filling up every
organ with oxygen. In and out, we breathe in a relaxed rhythm, just
like calm waves on a beach. When we are tense, on the other
hand, we scarcely breathe at all. We cut it short or block it. What is
the first thing that happens when we are given a fright? Our
breathing is interrupted. The even rhythm returns only when we are

32
back feeling relaxed and secure. Some people who suffer a trauma
or a deep loss never manage to regain their natural rhythm. Pay
attention next time. If you are nervous, notice what you are doing
and change to taking deep breaths. You will soon find that your
anxiety is considerably reduced.

We human beings often do things the wrong way round,

have you noticed? When we really need to breathe well, that is,
send oxygen to every part of ourselves in order to think clearly,
calmly and work well, that is when our breath becomes shallow.
This makes us feel more edgy and adds tension to an already
difficult situation. We end up not doing ourselves any favours and
making an even bigger mess of things.

In the case of bullying, the same thing happens. In the

middle of an attack, the victim, if he is not aware of his breathing
and his ability to control it, this will block air from going where it
needs to go. His body will tense up and he will have difficulty in
processing the thoughts and emotions that arise because of the
attack. If that happens, he becomes their victim, too. Not only is he
being attacked from outside, he has ceased to be the captain of his
own ship. His own self is attacking his ability to think and act
clearly. By processing we mean our ability to understand and deal
with emotions that arise, thus allowing them disappear as soon as
they appear. They do not attach themselves to us, they do not
overwhelm us, they do not revive memories of old defeats.
Processing means that we are aware of thoughts and emotions,
observe them and let them pass through us.

If you are conscious of your breathing, if you pay attention to

your in- and out-breaths, you can regain your inner power, stay
centred in the middle of the biggest storms, so that you remain
firmly in charge of your own ship. Therefore, you will be in the best
condition to deal with the outside world calmly and wisely, whatever
situation arises.

33
 Chapter 3
Saturday Sports

‘It’s all so unbelievable,’ thought Goyo. ‘I don’t know if I understand it yet.

This SYF appears to be simple but it’s complicated too, because there’s a lot
to it. It seems to be telling me that if I pay attention to some things like my
breathing, the way I move, um, my thoughts and emotions….. and, er - what
else? Oh, yes, if I pay attention to the tricks my attacker uses to make me feel
small, I’ll never be a target to any of those loudmouths again. I’ll be calm
enough and strong enough to handle them. I suppose I could start practising
and that’ll help me to remember.’

The boy thought Saturday would never come. He had asked his parents
for permission to spend the morning at the school sports ground, managing
not to give his mother too much of a turn. At least she did not go on about it.
After all, her son was at that funny age when abrupt changes of mind were
hardly a surprise. So he hated sports yesterday, so what?

Goyo had prepared a list of questions he hoped that Red, or failing him,
Lika, would answer for him. He put on his blue tracksuit with white stripes and
his rather old, tatty trainers. At exactly ten o’clock he took the Madrid
underground.

There were not many students on the playing fields except for the rugby
team. They were a dedicated team which was part of the league and entered
important competitions. The players were the pride of the school, an elite
group who had little to do with the rest of the pupils. Goyo hurried past them
and looked for Red in the gym, but he was not there. He turned towards the
changing rooms and bumped into Lika who had her tracksuit on too.

‘Come on, let’s go find Red. He’s pruning trees next to the boundary
fence,’ she said in welcome.

The boy followed her in silence as he watched her body language. There
was something in her that exuded confidence, just as he had read in the
programme. But she had something extra; her confidence felt almost
supernatural, as if she knew something he didn’t. He wondered what it could
be.

‘I can guess what you’re thinking, Goyo,’ Lika smiled. ‘Don’t bother your
head about it now. You’ll soon know more. In a short while, you’ll be able to
experiment for yourself.’

34
 ‘Hi, kids.’ Red waved as he saw them coming.’ Sit yourselves down for a
moment while I finish doing these cypresses. They are crying out for me to cut
their hair.’

‘Red…. Can I ask you a few questions?’ Goyo asked impatiently.

‘Not right now, no, lad. I’m busy talking to the trees. I like to do things
one at a time, so that I can give my whole attention to what I’m doing. Plants
and trees are living organisms. They deserve our affection and gratitude
because they give us a lot and we usually forget that. We are able to breathe
thanks to them, you know.’

The wind was a bit cool that May morning. The two youngsters fell onto
the grass and looked up at the clear blue sky. The movement of the branches
soon reminded Goyo of his breathing and he decided to observe his in- and
out-breaths. Lying down as he was, it was easy for him to see how his
stomach rose and fell as he breathed in and out.

‘Ahhh, what fun,’ sighed Lika. ‘I don’t want to even think about the
coming exams.’

‘Aagh, don’t even mention them to me,’ Goyo said, suddenly sitting up.
‘I’ve done badly this year.’

‘That’s it! All done. The trees are ready to deal with the hot summer
that’s about to hit us,’ said Red, shaking off a few twigs and leaves that had
landed on his shirt. ‘Before we go any further, how’s the reading going? Do
you understand the programme, Goyo?’

‘Yes. I like it very much. It’s really helping me to understand a great deal
that I’d never even thought about before. I realise now that a bully can be
suffering a lot too, at home or wherever.’

‘So, now that you know this, how do you feel about your attackers?’

‘We-ell, seen as you describe it in SYF, the fact that they have been
victims themselves makes me sad.’

‘Exactly! You’ve hit the nail on the head. They hope to hypnotise you into
believing you are the victim, but by a terrible twist of fate, they are the victims.
Never forget that. When you see things clearly, not blinded by what everyone
expects you to believe, you realise that when you are bullied, you are not the
real victim. Nor are you to blame for their attacks. You are merely the
instrument for the bullies, who are the true victims, to play their personal
drama out in front of the others. You are just an extra in their film, Goyo. It’s
not about you. Once you understand that, you can mentally, emotionally and
physically step away from them. Not taking things personally or so much to
heart is another SYF lesson. That’s very important, and if you manage to
learn it and make use of it, your whole life will be much happier. Do you
understand all that?’

35
 ‘Um, yes, I think so.’ Goyo scratched his head.

Lika was idly drawing in the sand with a stick. She was saying nothing as
she listened to every word that was said. Red’s teachings had made a huge
difference to her. She knew the stories of her uncle’s life backwards, but she
was still learning new stuff about him.

‘I’ll tell both a story of when I signed up on a British merchant ship”, Red
said. ‘That’ll teach you the importance of ‘Not two.’

‘Not two!’ Goyo and Lika exclaimed together. ‘What does that mean?’

Red sat down, crossed his legs, leaned back and, beaming a kindly
smile at the teenagers, began his story:

It had been quite a few years since I had been tempted to use violence,
and I was sure that I had left behind the dark years of my childhood. But when
I signed on that ship, the Daphnia, I had a premonition that put me on guard.
A group of seamen from Liverpool, veterans of the merchant ship that sailed
the seas of the Orient, watched me defiantly, their chins jutting arrogantly,
when I boarded with my little knapsack on my back. The next few days, they
did all they could to make my work difficult. They threw things in my way as I
worked on deck, tripped me up with mooring ropes – a whole long list of
things to put a young novice seaman on edge.

Seeing as I wasn’t too hot at working as a seaman, my boss gave me the

job as gofer in the galley. The sailors constantly provoked me, engineering
excuses to come down and make trouble for me. I had to bite my tongue and
suffer their blows in silence. ‘Hey, you Spanish git! Remember the Armada?
They made fun of the ‘Invincible Armada’ all the time. They thought it was
funny.

My English was too poor to involve myself in a history debate with them,
and we would have doubtless come to fisticuffs a lot sooner had it not been
for Huangzu, the cook. ‘Not two! Not two!’ the Chinaman kept saying while
throwing his razor-sharp knives with deadly accuracy at an improvised
dartboard on the wall.

The more I tried to talk with Huangzu, the more determined he was not to
speak to me. All he ever did was repeat ‘Not two! Not two!’

One night, when we were clearing up the galley after dinner, three
seamen stood, elbows resting against the wall, lying in wait for me in the
passageway. They were chewing on toothpicks, which they shoved all
around their mouths as they watched me, a disgusted look on their faces.
They hadn’t said a word. In an instant, I forgot all the promises I had made
after Teresa’s fall. Something instinctive, almost animal, came over me, and I
wanted to smash their faces in. I squared up to the biggest of them, the

36
redhead, and threw a punch as I screamed as loud as I could. He moved
away quickly, and I fell flat on my face. The three of them laughed at my
helplessness and turned to go back to the hold. As I lay on the floor watching
them walk away, I slavered with fury. I wanted a fight. I got up and ran up to
the smallest one. I almost had my fist stuck in his ugly mug when I heard a
quick movement behind me. Huangzu somehow managed to slip his hand
between me and the other man’s face. With a tranquil smile, he just said, ‘Not
two.’

The seamen high tailed it away from the cook, who had a reputation of
being able to throw his sharp knife and hit a bull’s eye between the eyebrows.

‘What the hell is ‘Not two’?’ Huangzu, I asked, running out of patience.
‘Are you going to explain it to me?’

It means ‘No Dos,’ he said in perfect Spanish.

‘Oh, so now you speak Spanish?’ I cried in surprise.

‘For years I had a Filipina girlfriend,’ he said dismissively.

‘You’re a deep one, and no mistake. If it weren’t for your slanty eyes, I’d
swear you were Paco from Madrid. So what’s ‘Not two?’’ I asked, tired of him
repeating the phrase over and over.

Huangzu turned and went into the galley. There he cleaned his knife and
put it away in the top drawer of the cupboard. Then he took a small teapot
from the stove. Every night he used to prepare himself a potion of herbs and
weeds. He smilingly poured the drink into two cups.

‘If you succeed in seeing that the whole of your life is ‘Not two’, your
small and insignificant life will not be in vain.’

‘Well, what does it mean then?’ I asked, intrigued.

‘It’s obvious. Two. One and two. The problem is two, always two,’ he
replied, blowing on his cup to cool his drink.

‘For Heaven’s sake! I have no idea what you’re talking about.’ I was
exasperated. ‘Explain what you mean.’

Huangzu smiled at me and drank his tea in one gulp. He cleaned his
cup, put it away on the shelf, and, slapping me on the back, said, ‘Good night.
You will have to find out what I mean for yourself.’

…. And that’s how Huangzu left me, and I think that’s where I’ll leave you
two. ‘Not two’,’ Red said with a smile.

‘Wha-at? How?’ shouted Lika and Goyo.

37
 ‘Unnnnnnnnnnncle! You can’t do this!’

Goyo was speechless with rage. He stamped his feet, infuriated at being
led on and then left hanging, without a clue as to the answer. Breathing
deeply, he calmed himself down, making a promise that he would uncover the
secret as soon as he possibly could.

‘Now, Goyo, your other questions about SYF. What are they?’

‘You mentioned on the disk that at your second school, you managed to
scare the guys off with your gestures, tone of voice and inner confidence. But,
if I do the same, the guys here will think I’m pretending. They know I have
always been frightened of them. So how are they going to believe me now?’

‘Good question. You are right to wonder. SYF is a multilevel programme,

and it will help you in many ways. It will help you to understand why and how
people attack and to see aggression with new eyes. When we understand
things, we are able to resolve and overcome them more easily. Thanks to the
keys I’ve given you about verbal and body language, you will, in time, feel
more secure. You may well be pretending at first, but you will still find that
things are already changing with your understanding. A wise man called
Jesus told us once that ‘the truth shall set you free’, and that’s exactly how it
is. When you understand the mechanics of bullying, you liberate yourself. You
are no longer a victim. You can rise above it and act freely. I do not expect
you to take on board everything I am saying for now, but have patience with
yourself and with me. It cost me a lot to write SYF 1.0. It wasn’t easy, you
know. I desire with all my heart that no one should be attacked, bullied and
maltreated. What I have experienced over the years, the pain and
punishment, has taught me a lot, but it was hard. Will you forgive me for
asking for your patience?’

‘Of course, Red. I am so very grateful for the help you are giving me, you
and Lika both. It is unbelievable…. It’s magic! Thank you, thank you.’

Thank you, Goyo. Anyone who benefits from SYF will be able to teach a
hundred more, and so before long we will be able to work miracles for all
those in need, OK? What other questions do you have?’

‘Do you remember my dream when insults stuck to your body in the form
of black energy? Well, the following day in athletics they called me names and
I felt bad all day. I remembered the dream but I didn’t know what to do to rid
myself of them.’

‘Come, you two. Let’s go inside the gym. We’ll learn about the power of
words and how they’re intended work with a few exercises,’ said Red, sitting
up.

They followed the gardener inside. The gym was massive, able to
accommodate all sorts of activities including indoor football. Red picked an
abandoned ball up from the floor.

38
 ‘Let’s see…. Goyo, I want you to imagine that you are in a game of
football and that you are trying to score a goal. Lika, you are on the opposing
team, or, better still, you are calling Goyo all the worst names you can think
of. When I say, “Go”, Goyo’s trying to score while you, Lika, sick all sorts of
insults on to him. I’ll be the referee.’ Red took up position on the side.

Goyo took the ball and imagined himself swerving and running with the
ball at his right foot straight towards the goalmouth. Lika, for her part, started
shouting, ‘Wimp! Donkey! Idiot1! Stupid! Fatty! Useless! You haven’t a hope
of scoring, you wretched excuse for a human being….’

Goyo started to become nervous as soon as he heard her. His legs

trembled. There was no need to describe what happened when he reached
the goalmouth. The ball went nowhere near it.

‘Good. You see what happened? No need to say more. Now, I want you
to change over. This time, Lika, you try to score a goal. Goyo, instead of
calling names, I want you to shout out words you know will encourage her.’

Lika took the ball and played a little with it to get used to handling it.
When she was ready, Goyo shouted:

Come on! You can do it! You have whatever you need to do it! Of
course you do! You’re the best! Shoot! You’re going to score! You’re a
champion!

Lika closed her eyes and letting her foot hit the ball, scored a beautiful
goal.

‘Hurray! Hurray! My first goal!’ she cried enthusiastically.

‘You see now the power of words which have intent behind them, don’t
you?’ Red asked as he got up. He had fallen trying to catch the ball. Do you
know now why teams prefer to play at home? Because their fans back them,
and they hear words that encourage and support them, maybe?’

‘Red, what can I do when they call me names so that they don’t affect
me so much?’

Red picked up the ball and stowed on its rack. He turned towards Goyo,
took him by the shoulders and said, ‘The names stick because they pierce
your thin skin. Every time they hurt you, that’s a sign that you still have some
inner work to do.’

‘Inner work? What does that mean?’ Goyo was bewildered.

‘Unfortunately, in this life we never stop going to school. You will realise
that as you grow older, kid. Inner work is something they rarely talk to us
about in school or at home, for that matter. It’s something we all have to do if
we want to live a happy, peaceful and fulfilling life.’

39
 Lika came near them and sat on the vaulting horse as she listened
attentively to her uncle.

‘Have you realised that there are insults and there are insults?’ Red
inquired.

‘Yes. Some hurt and others don’t bother me at all. Is that what you
mean?’ replied Lika.

‘Exactly. And why do some hurt us?’ Red asked Lika.

‘Goyo, you still don’t know that I, too, was a victim of bullying,’ the girl
explained. ‘There were some girls in my class last year. They had it in for me
and waged a real psychological war on me. They were witches. They knew
how to hurt me, had it down to a fine art and just kept on at me. I had acne
then, and my face was always full of spots. I was tremendously ashamed of
them and of course, they knew it. Every day they would greet me with, ‘Hey,
spotty! Hey, crater-face!’ Is that what you are talking about, uncle?’

‘Yes. Some insults just disappear into the void. They’re either totally
unimportant or have little effect. Others are meant to harm, they are hurled
with energy and a strong intention behind them. They cut you to the quick,
right where you hold the hurts and fears that you have not managed to
resolve. They are especially cruel as they are ‘made to measure’, if you like,
to do the greatest harm to the recipient. So, they will attack a fat boy or a girl
with acne about their physical appearance, or pick on anything that makes
their victim stand out. If the fat boy likes doughnuts, they will make an issue of
it to get at him. If he cannot do gym, they will blame him and his weight.’

‘So, what can we do?’ insisted Goyo.

‘When they insulted you the other day, you suffered twice. Once when
you heard the insult, and again when it hung over you all day. That affected
the rest of your activities, didn’t it, because it went round and round your
head?’

‘Yes,’ admitted the boy.

‘Insults have to pass through you like arrows through a formless

mist. If they don’t, it’s because you have a hurt that has not been healed
and the arrow fixes itself right in the middle of your problem. It carries
on hurting you until you either eliminate the problem or eliminate your
perception of the problem, or else you learn not to carry it on your
shoulders.’

‘So, how do I do that?’ Goyo became suddenly anxious, worried at what

was to come.

‘If they insult you by calling you fat, it hurts you because that’s what you
think you are and so you do not like it. If you do not accept yourself as you

40
are, hate yourself for being fat, you feel uncomfortable and are therefore
unable to do anything about being overweight. The insult will fit you like a
glove, be there as a constant reminder that you are fat, and what’s more, that
you are to blame because you aren’t doing anything about it. The solution?
My advice is:

1. Accept yourself as you are right now, and

2. If you don’t like being overweight, do something about it, and

3. Get rid of blame.

Doing these three things alone will stop you feeling so hurt. If you
transform blame into words that support and sustain you, you will find new
ways to lose weight like playing sport and eating better. So, little by little, you
will find the direction you want and reach your goal. Guilt and remorse will
never get you where you want to be, because they paralyse you.

When you accept yourself completely and honestly, without deceiving

yourself, when you’re doing something about what bothers you, the insults
and name-calling will slide off your back. Inside, you will know that you are
doing something positive to change and since the only thing the others want is
to keep you feeling down, they will have to give up. But we have another
technique for you, too. The ‘MT´s’.’

‘Are you going to explain that now?’ an excited Lika asked.

‘No, now is not the time,’ Red replied. ‘But, we will talk about it some
time.’

‘Aagh! You always leave me hanging,’ cried Goyo.’

‘Everything in its own time,’ said Red. ‘SYF has an order to it, and there’s
a right time to deal with issues. Some things have to be repeated in order for
you to see the light and understand every aspect of them.’

The three left the gym and Red locked the building. The time was around
half past twelve, and Red was keen to teach Goyo a few physical exercises
before he went home.

‘I worked in the ‘Daphnia’ for four years, when I was about twenty-three
or so. Huangzu became my boss and my teacher. He was the one who gave
me my nickname Red. He was a genius. I stored up the mass of information
he taught me in my heart. He told me I would understand some of it only with
time, but that didn’t seem to matter to him. ‘The Art of Being’ is powerful
enough to transcend time, he told me one day. ‘Don’t worry if you do not get it
today. Tomorrow is only another day, and you will understand it.’

41
 Red remained silent for a minute to let the teenagers take in his words.
Then he straightened up, helped the other two to their feet, and continued:

‘Come here, Goyo. I want to teach you a couple of exercises which will
help to shape you up inside.’

‘Inside?’ Goyo was still not sure what he meant.

‘Yes. It’s a series of exercises that will help you to increase your self-
confidence, deal with the sense of insecurity you feel inside. The first one is
very simple. You swing from side to side, turning your body as you do. Move
your hips from left to right, right to left, keeping your feet firmly on the ground
and your arms completely relaxed. Keep them loose, let go of controlling
them, and keep your knees bent.’

Lika and Red began swinging left and right, right and left. They closed
their eyes as they did so and let their arms hang loose. Goyo then imitated his
two new friends. He planted his feet so that they were aligned with his hips,
shoulder-width apart, closed his eyes and began to swing too.

He felt instantly relaxed. He felt his spine stretch, doing him good by
freeing the accumulated tension there in his shoulders.

‘Don’t forget to breathe, the more relaxed and deeply the better. Swing
your body at the hips, not with your legs,’ Red pointed out to him.

Goyo did as he was told and carried on. ‘Mmm. This feels so good!’ he
exclaimed after a few minutes.

‘This exercise is deceptively simple. It seems quite insignificant, but it

really is very important. Huangzu told me on one occasion that if he could do
one exercise only, this would undoubtedly be it because of the number of
benefits it brings to the mind and body. He recommended that I do it for five
minutes in the morning and another five in the evening every day after I’d
done all my work. He still has not explained all the benefits of this exercise,
though he did say it would loosen much of the tension built up during the day,
and that it was an excellent warming up exercise…. One time, when I was
especially weighed down by these attacks on me, Huangzu said, ‘When you
swing like this, think that, however bad life is, however much you are pushed
around, back and forth, back and forth, you are like an oak tree, firmly centred
in your being. Only the branches are moving. You are much bigger than the
problems and circumstances that surround you.’’

‘Do you want me to think that when I do this exercise, then?’ asked
Goyo.

‘That’s exactly it. I will tell you a secret: your body listens to you. It is
always listening to your thoughts and obeying them. Therefore, if your daily
thoughts are negative, your body will end up reflecting them. The same goes
for upbeat and positive thoughts. So if you use the time you exercise to speak

42
to your body, you are reinforcing inside what you want to happen. For
example, the swinging movement helps you to realise that, even if life is
shaking you about, you have roots that nail you to the ground, deep into the
earth, and that your head is looking up to the sky. The wind can push you in
one direction or another, but you are strong. Insults and name-calling can
shake you, but they cannot push you over, because you are much more than
you think you are,’ Red explained.

‘Hey! I never thought to combine ideas with physical exercise before. Let
me try,’ Goyo enthused as he began again.

Lika and the gardener smiled at Goyo as they watched him. He too was
smiling from ear to ear as he swung back and forth. This time he paid
attention to the idea that his inner core was straight. He began to have an
inkling of how important the exercise was.

‘Wow! When I do this, I feel tall and light. I feel strong!’

‘Play with it, Goyo. Use your imagination and let the movement help you,’
Lika added. ‘Since I learned this a few months ago, I imagined a whole heap
of things. Sometimes I visualise colours, like sometimes I am inside a
coloured egg and I choose the colour that I am attracted to that day. When I
swing, I imagine I am getting rid of all the things that I’m anxious or sad
about.’

‘Well, I’d never have thought of all that, either.’ Goyo’s face was
animated. ‘And it’s a great exercise for lazybones like me because it is not at
all tiring. Quite the opposite – it leaves you feeling more supple and energetic.
I’m going to teach it to my mother, I know she’ll be crazy about it.’

‘Another exercise to help you increase your self-confidence is this next

one,’ said Red. He took up a martial arts stance, as if he was doing Tai Chi or
Qi Gong. ‘Stand upright, keep your back straight and your knees slightly bent.
Make like you’re a scorpion, hinge your pelvis inwards and keep that posture
throughout the exercise. Begin by placing your hands at the level of your
navel, with your right hand on top of the left if you are a male, and females
vice versa. As you breathe, keep your attention fixed on the area about an
inch below your navel. Breathe in and out, all the while paying attention to that
area. Staying like that helps you to connect to your inner power. Try it. But
you can breathe like this however you are standing. Putting your attention on
that spot about an inch below your navel means you are activating your inner
power. That’s the place the Japanese call your ‘hara’, and the Chinese call
‘tan dien’. It must be a special spot if they have names for it, don’t you think?
The Japanese death ritual of hara kiri means to stab yourself with your sword
there. It is a point of honour.’

Goyo interrupted, ‘Right! So when they attack me and I feel it right there,
as if they have punched me in the belly, that’s because they are attacking me
in my power centre?’

43
 ‘Yes, in a kind of way. Yes, in general, many kinds of attack are received
in that vital area. When that happens, our body goes into emergency mode
and that means we tense up.’

‘So if Rafa’s gang attack and I centre myself as you say, I’ll feel better?’

‘Without a doubt. What happens is that, when they attack, they catch us
by surprise and we don’t have time to put our knowledge into practise.
Therefore, you need to have a little patience with yourself while you practise
these techniques and the art of staying in the present moment.

‘Staying in the present moment?’

‘Yes. You stay in the present moment by watching what is happening

both inside and outside your body.’

Goyo was hungry for information. ‘How do you do that?’

‘First let me explain about the exercise, and then I will tell you how I
learned the hard way, the art of staying in the present. O.K.?’

‘Uncle! Stop goading us to ask piles of questions,’ giggled Lika. ‘You’ll

have Goyo and me hounding you day in, day out for answers.’

‘My dear niece, I’m delighted to answer your questions. It’s a good sign.
This exercise is called ‘The Big Sphere’. Watch how I do it.’

Red began a precise series of graceful movements. He traced an

invisible sphere around his body, moving his arms up and down. Side to side
and front and back. There was fierce concentration in his face as he took
tremendous care to move his arms just so. He breathed in as he moved, and
stood still when he breathed out. He finished the exercise standing motionless
and breathing easily with both hands held in prayer position at the level of his
heart. The two teenagers felt the strong energy that emanated from his body
afterwards.

‘Impressive.’ Goyo broke the silence. ‘For a moment, I thought you

looked like a dragon.’

‘In the old days, this exercise was known as ‘The Seven Doors of the
Dragon’, but I prefer to call it ‘The Big Sphere’ because, if you use your
imagination during it, you are putting an invisible sphere around your body.
But you can call it what you want. When you make friends with this exercise
through practice, appreciate it and learn from it, then you can call it by its
proper name.’ Red looked at his watch. ‘Now it’s time to go. Your aunt Maria
will never forgive me if I get back late for her Saturday paella. Let’s go. I’ve
got to finish up here.’

‘Red, is this exercise explained in SYF?’ Goyo asked.

44
 ‘Yes. Carry on reading and you’ll find it. My advice is to practise these
exercises every day. We’ll talk again at break on Monday. Have a good
weekend, Goyo,’ Red called.

‘Bye, Goyo. I’m going with uncle,’ Lika announced.

‘Bye. And thanks!’ Goyo went away in the direction of the south gate, the
only one open on a Saturday.

Goyo felt as if he were floating on a cloud. He hardly noticed where he

was until he arrived at the Underground. He showed his season ticket and
walked obliviously through the long tunnels until a stale piece of white
chewing gum brought him back to earth. ‘Damn! It always ends up sticking to
my shoes. Just my luck!’ he grumbled.

Once on the train, the underground stations flew past the preoccupied
gaze of the youngster. He was totally absorbed in his thoughts, trying to
remember every word that had been said that morning in the gym. Red’s
teachings fascinated him. Lika had obviously learned a lot from her uncle. She
was so open and natural. He felt full of hope, reasoning that if she had
managed to conquer her schoolmate bullies, then he could too. For the first
time a long while, he felt as if he were not alone and vulnerable. Rather,
people who knew what he was going through were supporting him and
helping him to come out the other side intact. He breathed a sigh of relief and
trusted that, from now on, things would change for the better.

He was lost in his thoughts when suddenly a group of teenagers burst

shouting and making a racket into the carriage. Goyo looked at them, and, for
a fraction of a second, began to fall into his old attitude of looking intimidated
and expecting to be attacked. But this time, something inside him made him
turn his head, ignore the noisy bunch and carry on reliving his exciting
morning. The louts did not look at Goyo even for a moment and went to sit at
the other end of the coach. They jostled and joked amongst themselves.

He did it! He had been able to choose between giving importance to the
arrival of these boys and getting scared because he expected to be attacked,
and doing the opposite. He had paid them no attention. He had done
something different and this was very important for him to realise. But then he
was so absorbed in his thoughts, he did not appreciate his first achievement.
Miracles like this happen daily in our lives, but we are not in a state of mind
where we notice them. If we are ‘present’ enough to celebrate when good
things happen to us, we encourage ourselves to continue on that path.
Eventually, we come to believe that we no longer need to give ourselves such
a hard time for not being good enough. We enjoy our successes and place
our trust in them.

Once back home, Goyo went straight to his room to read more.

45
 Chapter 4
Everything starts with just one step

Practising SYF1.0

No one climbs a big mountain in one go. You will need a bit of
patience and perseverance to free yourself from the situation you
are in. As a start, practise some of the following until you are
comfortable with them:

The art of being in the present moment

You know what it’s like at school when your teachers ask you
to pay attention. It’s asking a lot. Your teachers never stop trying
though, do they? In the big wide world away from the protection of
school and home, however, staying in the present can, without
exaggeration, save your life. All practitioners of the martial arts,
boxing - any sport - bus drivers, police, soldiers, air traffic
controllers, circus artistes – to name but a few examples -know
how important it is to pay attention, to stay present. ‘Fine,’ we hear
you say. When I need to pay attention, I will,’ But without practice, it
will never happen.

A good way to start learning is to observe your breathing.

Feel the air as it enters your nostrils, what happens as you breathe
down into your lungs and how it leaves your lungs via your nostrils
again. If you practice this exercise for five minutes a day, you will
notice your attention span increasing considerably. It’s not an easy
exercise, though, as you’ll find out. Thoughts will take over, inviting
you to forget what you are doing. That’s normal. When that
happens, simply let the thoughts go and return to concentrating on
your breathing. You can count your breaths, if that helps. It can
even be fun to compete with yourself to see how many breaths you
can count before being distracted - a game you can play without
gadgets and batteries and it helps you wherever you are as well.

During the day, when you remember, pay attention to yourself,

be aware of what you are feeling, how the chair feels against your
thighs and back as you sit in it. Look at the classroom you are in,
what’s stuck on the walls, the blackboard. Look at your classmates
and teacher. Feel your pen between your fingers, and come back
to observing your body again – your hands, legs, back. Feel your

46
heart beat within you, how your lungs expand when you breathe in,
how your blood circulates in your veins. There’s a lot we take for
granted, isn’t t here? Breathe deeply and pay heed to the fact that
you are HERE AND NOW. Concentrate on your heart and feel that
all is well right now.

Why is it important to do these apparently simple exercises,

we hear you ask?

They are essential because, when bullies try to surprise you

with their hassling or intimidation, you are there, present. Only by
being present can you see how their dominating tactics are exerting
an influence, to make you believe that you are helpless and
hopeless. Only by being present can you deflect their insults and
stop your own thoughts weighing you down. Trembling in fear and
being overwhelmed by frustration and powerlessness means you
are unable to respond, only react. By being present you can
remember SYF’s techniques to help free you from attack.

At the very moment they start name-calling or trying to get

physical, if you are present, you can choose between feeling a
victim and or someone powerful and resourceful. What you decide
to feel will essentially affect what they do. Your whole being
responds to your feelings, remember? And your attackers will
notice.

At first, all you need to do is pretend to feel self-confident. You

can also repeat a phrase that helps you to feel calm, such as, ‘All is
well’ or ‘I feel secure and calm.’ That will help you to relax and keep
a clear mind so that you know what to do for best.

The four non-negotiable principles

You may well not believe us, because no one has told you this
before, but you need to know that the following words are
absolutely true. You can read them as often as you need to in order
to take them on board and give yourself an inner certainty. Breathe
deeply, open your heart and read:

You are wonderful, brilliant, fantastic (use the word that suits
you)

You hold the whole world in your hands

47
 You can be and do what you want

You deserve the best

Take your time and savour the words. Feel them with your
body. Take them as if they are medicine, a pleasant one of course.
Breathe deeply and send the words right down to the tips of your
toes and fingers. Repeat out loud, with all your heart:

You are wonderful

You hold the whole world in your hands

You can be and do what you want

You deserve the best

Breathe deeply and smile. They are not just any words. They
are not empty of meaning. Every one of us has these words
engraved with love deep in our hearts, but very few of us remember
them and take them seriously.

Undesirable secondary effects

Fine –but! What we have said does not, though, give you the
right to behave in any way destructively. The universe loves you,
but it also loves everyone else. Living on earth is an invitation to
cooperate and respect all kingdoms, be it human, animal, mineral
or vegetable. That is, effectively, the whole planet.

Whatever you are told to the contrary – you are not wonderful,
you do not have the potential to do what you want, that you do not
deserve the best – undermines your self-confidence and wounds
your self-esteem. Never let anyone destroy your self-esteem, not
your parents, not your teachers, not your best friends, not you
yourself. Not anyone. You can be tall, small, thin, fat, spotty or
plain. You can make mistakes, fail exams, get angry and be mean
to someone. But you are still wonderful, you still have potential, you
still have the whole world in your hands and you still deserve the
best. Because beating yourself up never changed anything, did it?

48
 Deserving the best even for a moment means that every day
we become a better person. We learn from our mistakes, recognise
when we are wrong and put it right, know how to ask forgiveness of
others as well as ourselves, to appreciate and love others,
appreciate and love ourselves, to feel gratitude and feel that,
whatever we are, everyone is equal.

If you keep the four principles present in your mind and heart,
your self-esteem will always be strong and healthy. When someone
insults you, you will never fall as low as you did before, nor as
easily. Imagine the four principles as four knights in shining armour
on impressive mounts. They are always at your side, reminding you
that they are there and are inspiring you with their support, love and
acceptance in any circumstance. They are like guardian angels of
your self-esteem. Remember them. Everything you do in life and
your very success will depend to a large extent on whether you
believe them or not. They are like a motivating energy, encouraging
you to move on in the world and reach your goals.

Goyo stopped reading and closed his eyes. The four guardians of self-
esteem floated around in his mind. It was as if they were clearing his head of
all the hang-ups accumulated day in, day out, especially at school. He let the
phrases go through his whole being as he breathed deeply and relaxed more
and more.

After a few minutes, he left his room to scavenge a cheese sandwich and
a glass of juice. His little sister Laura was in the kitchen playing with a guinea
pig their aunt and uncle had given her a couple of days before. Goyo stroked
the animal as his sister held in her arms. She wouldn’t let go.

‘It’s mine!’ she shouted.

‘Calm down, Laura, I know it’s yours. Won’t you let me hold it for a
while?’ Goyo patiently played the grown-up.

‘’No! It’s mine!’ Laura dug her heels in.

The boy sighed and swallowed his irritation, forgetting that it wasn’t too
long ago that he had done the same with his pets and toys. Resigned, he
picked up his sandwich and drink and trudged back upstairs.

49
 Exercises to increase your confidence

Although we do gym only once a week, it is important to realise

that a few stretching exercises a day helps us to stay supple for the
whole of our lives. If we have suffered from bullying, it is also
important for us to do exercise in order to free up the tension
created by the negative emotions from the attack. Our body uses
movement, crying, and shouting to get rid of accumulated stress. In
collaborating with our bodies to release it, we are really helping
ourselves. One of the best ways to do that is to take a brisk walk.
We also recommend the following exercises, but please take into
account any physical problem you have that may present a
difficulty. If in doubt, please check with your doctor. Never forget
that you are responsible for your own health.

The Spin

Plant your feet firmly on the ground to connect with the earth.
Place your feet about the same distance apart as the width of your
shoulders. Lightly bend your knees. Let your arms hang loosely by
your sides, and, when you start to turn, let them stay with the
movement of your hips, though without making any effort. Your
head, neck, hips and torso all keep in a straight line as you move.
Do this for five minutes or so. Again the benefits of this exercise are
incalculable. It helps keep your back and spine supple and free
from tension. Let every thought go while you are turning and feel
only the movement in your spine.

The Big Sphere

(You can see us perform this exercise at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PmbssPoURwQ)

This exercise is especially designed to increase your self-

confidence and self-assurance. The movements put you in contact
with the space around you – front, back and sides, above, below,
and inside you too. If you carry out this exercise every day at least
twelve times or so, you will notice your balance and stability
increase along with your self-confidence

50
 All the movements are carried out without moving from the spot.
The basic posture is the same as what is used in the Spin (above).
Your feet are firmly planted on the ground shoulder-width apart,
knees lightly bent but this time your right hand rests lightly on your
left at navel level. Before you begin, observe your breathing and
centre your attention on a place approximately one inch below your
navel.

1. Breathe in through the nose. Raise both hands to heart

level, as if you are pushing the space in front of you. Exhale
through the mouth as you extend your arms fully, keeping your
fingers pointing upwards and palms outwards.

2. Inhale as you bring your arms back to your heart in prayer

position. As you exhale, push your hands in front at an angle of 45
degrees to your body down towards the ground, as if you are
connecting with the earth.

3. Inhale as your hands return together to the heart position.

Exhale as you move your hands parallel to your body, as if you are
releasing all your tension.

4. Inhale as you bring your hands together back to heart level.

Exhale as you. open your hands and move them behind you at an
angle of 45 degrees.

5. Inhale as your bring your hands back together to the heart

position. Exhale as you move your hands to either side of your
body, at right angles to it as if you are forming a cross.

6. Inhale as your bring your hands back together to the heart

position. Exhale as you turn your hips and torso to the right, at the
same time bringing your left arm out in front, again as if you are
forming a cross. Keep your head facing the direction you turn
towards.

7. Inhale as you bring your hands back together to the heart

position. Exhale as you turn your hips and torso to the left and
bringing your right arm our in front to form a cross. Keep your head
facing the direction you turn towards.

8. Inhale as you bring your hands together back to the heart

position. For the last movement, exhale as you raise your arms in
front of you and trace a circle until you arrive back at the original
position, with your hands at the level an inch below your navel.

9. Stay in this position as you breathe in and out once more.

You can finish here, or continue with another round of eight
movements.

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 This exercise can be done in another more energetic way by
introducing a small change. Instead of returning your hands to the
heart in the prayer position, you can make your hands into fists and
place them either side of our hips. You will notice the difference:
the first one induces a calm feeling of well being, the second
invigorates you and helps to generate a greater feeling of inner
strength.

Please check our video with a demostration of the movement at:

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PmbssPoURwQ

Other considerations

In general, it is important that you make sure you keep your feet
firm and your knees slightly bent, since they both determine how
strong you end up feeling. Keep practising the exercises as they
help you to remain strong and supple.

You can combine The Turn and The Big Sphere with
visualisations, too. Use your imagination and think when you are
doing The Spin that you are releasing all your problems, letting
tension go along with them. Imagine you are a tree with deep roots
in the earth, so that even though the strong wind blows about you
and shakes you around, you are firmly in your centre, the axis that
runs through your body. In the second exercise, imagine that your
are creating a sphere all around you which acts as a personal
shield, You can also imagine that your are filling yourself with
energy as you inhale, and as you exhale, you are sending this
energy in front, behind, above and below you until you are
completely surrounded by it. You can do it while imagining that
every movement makes you stronger, more sure of yourself. Let
yourself go and enjoy the practice.

A question of health

Generally, if we feel physically fit and healthy, our inner

confidence stays high. Although SYF is not a dietary programme, it
is important for you to realise that you are what you eat – your inner
self, not just your body, is affected. It is therefore a good idea to

52
 keep food that has no nutritional value to a minimum. They just fill
you up with toxic chemicals so that your physical, mental and
emotional health deteriorate. Eat a balanced diet, avoiding fried or
refried foods and include fruit, nuts and vegetables in your daily
diet. Drink 1½ to 2 litres of water daily in winter, and a bit more in
summer when it is really hot. That will help keep you fit. What can
we say about cakes and sweets, fast food and fizzy drinks full of all
sorts of harmful substances that we are sure, you already know
about? When you eat healthy foods, you are preparing for a much
better future for yourself on all sorts of levels. The fleeting
pleasures of toxic sweets do not compare with the good health you
can enjoy right now, as well as when you are older. Toxic foods set
up a craving which soon disappears when you stop taking them.

While we are talking about food, we need to speak about drugs.

SYF is not in favour of any kind of drug, not even those used by
adults such as alcohol and tobacco. Science has not yet found out
all the damage they do to the body and mind, because the list is
endless. Everything you think the drug is offering you in terms of
happiness and well being is already being taken away from you as
you take it, thanks to the irreparable damage it causes to your mind
and body. Everything that people seek in drugs you can obtain for
free without taking them. Absolutely everything. You can have fun,
be happy, be healthy, strong, cheerful, have friends, enjoy life,
explore the world, attain the goals you set yourself, be loved – all
this and more you can do for yourself without needing even a single
cigarette, a single drop, a single reefer, tab, sniff or shot. There’s
more. All that you desire in life, you can lose with one single
experiment with drugs. One single experiment. As you see, you
and drugs make a bad contract. You have a lot to lose and nothing
to gain. Drugs make bad friends, they trap you and, what’s more,
cost a lot more than just money - they are expensive in all ways!

That Saturday afternoon, Goyo rented the second Harry Potter film, ‘The
Prisoner of Azkaban’. As he usually did, he opened the kitchen cupboard and
grabbed a packet of crisps and a fizzy drink to guzzle while he watched. His
parents were having a siesta and his sister was away playing at their
grandparents’, so this was a rare quiet moment when Goyo felt as if he were
master of the house. He lay back on the sofa and stuck his feet up on a pile of
House and Home magazines his mother left on the coffee table. He reached
for the packet of crisps, but suddenly remembered what he had been reading.
He swiped the packet and tin away.

He turned the sound down with the remote control so that he would not
disturb his parents, turned on the DVD, pressed ‘play’ and lost himself in the
film. When he reached the part where a terrible, phantasmagorical creature
was neutralised with the ‘Ridikulus’ spell, Goyo felt a light go on and paused
the film. He leapt from the sofa and ran to put on the SYF disk. He thought he

53
remembered something about the spell he had seen in Red’s programme, but
he wasn’t sure and couldn’t recall what it said. He typed ‘Ridikulus’ in ‘find’
and waited as the computer churned through the information. He impatiently
played with the mouse until at last the word came up on the screen. Pleased
at his success, he sat back to read the following paragraph:

Diminishing and conquering our fears

One of the lessons I learned from Huangzu was that I would

never feel safe anywhere in the world if I didn’t confront my biggest
fear first. Our enemies soon sniff out anything that horrifies us and
that’s our attacker’s biggest ally, since it causes our biggest panic
for the smallest effort on his part. He just needs to give a little push
in that direction and we fall in a devastated heap. Fears are very
profitable for our enemies and a bad deal for us. Remember that.

One of the teachings in ‘Harry Potter’ is very useful if you

know how to use it. You’ll find it in the ‘Boghart’ chapter, where the
phantasmagorical Boghart is vanquished by the ‘Ridikulus’ spell.
One way to conquer our fears is to ridicule them. We can make
them look ridiculous or comical quite easily. Before your attacker
finds out what it is you are most frightened of, you can work out
beforehand its comical aspect, its humorous side. Use your
imagination and exaggerate what you visualise. If you are
frightened of a particular person, stick a funny pink hat on his head,
put a frilly floral bra with orange and purple flowers on him and give
him a big red nose. Visualise it again and check out whether you
feel the same panic when he is dressed like that. You won’t be able
to. If it’s a place that frightens you most, imagine it is in a comedy
or a cowboy film, for example. The cowboys fall off their horses, or
their trousers rip, exposing their behinds to the audience who are
falling about laughing. If you visualise various scenes intensely
several times and see them as funny, the place can no longer
intimidate you. Its supernatural power over you has gone. Try it and
see.

When Huangzu tried to help me with my biggest fear, I

discovered that it was the most common fear of all – fear of dying.
The ‘Daphnia’ cook laughed when he heard me confess it.

‘You’re not very original, are you? 99% of humanity is

frightened of dying. Do you know what I’m getting at?’ Huangzu
asked, pointing one of his sharp knives at me.

‘What?’ I stuttered, taking a step back.

54
 ‘That you are all wrong! You are not frightened of dying!’ he
cried as he threw the knife above my head to stick in his dartboard.

‘Huangzuuuuu! What the hell are you doing? Are you mad?’ I
yelled, patting my head to assure myself that it was still in one
piece.

‘You are not frightened of dying. It’s impossible to be. Not one
person alive knows about it. So why be frightened? What we fear
is the IDEA OF DYING. That’s our problem. We fear the idea we
have of dying, what we suppose we will experience on death. And
that, dear Red, is only an idea, and you can embrace and abandon
ideas without any great problem.’

When I heard that, I was no longer petrified. This was

important. I had never considered that way of thinking before. My
face lit up with a smile and an enormous burden I had felt since
childhood lifted off me. I was not frightened of dying! I was only
frightened of the idea I had of dying! All I had to do was change my
thoughts, and my fear would disappear.

Thus it was for me, and so it is for you. Treasure the wisdom
of Huangzu’s words and the ‘Ridikulus’ spell. Keep them in your
magic solutions bag, since they are the best magic potions to help
you as you go through life.

‘Hey! It’s never occurred to me before now that I can use something from a
film in real life,’ thought Goyo. He fantasised for a while sticking ridiculously
funny hats on Rafa and his followers, which cheered him no end. He attached
pigs, cows and chickens’ bodies to their heads and, with each picture, felt a
new confidence surge within him. He felt an unusual sense of freedom.

The afternoon flew by as he forgot all his cares and the boy enjoyed watching
the rest of the Harry Potter film.

55
 Chapter 5
The Trap

With the programme and Red and Lika’s support, Goyo was transforming
himself. In the beginning, the changes were small and hardly noticeable, but
they continued with every day that passed. The heavy aura around him that
had made him a likely victim was lightening, smoothing out and slowly
disappearing. The teenager’s determination to practise and learn was tireless.
He made use of all the tricks that Red has taught him as well as Lika’s
practical advice. He paid attention to the way he walked, his breathing, and
his emotions too. When his fear surprised him, he found that seeing the funny
side of the situation made quite a difference. The recommended physical
exercises helped him to increase his self-confidence too. He was
straightening his shoulder and his smile showed that something substantial
was changing inside him.

Neither were Rafa and co unaware of the change in their favourite victim.
One Wednesday, did he but know it, Goyo aroused Rafa’s fury. After lunch,
some of the kids played in a small football league on the main recreation
ground. Goyo had never joined in, since no one had asked him to, but that
day, without understanding why, the goalie in one of the teams invited him
over.

‘Hey, you! Want to play? We’re a man short.’

‘Well, O.K. But I’m not very good,’ cautioned Goyo, delighted and
reluctant at the same time.

‘That doesn’t matter. It’s not a competition. Do what you can,’ came the
reply.

Burdened by his emotions and nerves, Goyo took up his position as a

forward. The game developed rapidly and the players were passing the ball
back and forth among themselves, much to Goyo’s relief. But finally the ball
landed at Goyo’s feet. Almost automatically, he closed his eyes and kicked it
for all he was worth.

‘Goooooooooooooal!’

Everyone shouted enthusiastically. ‘What a shot! What a shot!’

56
 For a few seconds the boy, his leg suspended mid air, neither moved nor
spoke, When he at last opened his eyes, the world had somehow changed.
Everyone, boys and girls both, was cheering him, clapping him and calling his
name as if he were a hero. A blonde, green-eyed girl called Patricia gave him
a big kiss on both his cheeks, making him blush to his roots.

‘I didn’t do that much!’ he smiled, trying to cover up his shyness.

‘Hey, kid! Want to play again tomorrow?’ asked the goalie.

‘Don’t know. It was a lucky shot, and I’ll as likely ruin the game for you
tomorrow.’

‘That’s just daft. We’ll see you tomorrow,’ the goalie insisted.

Fifty metres away, Rafa, who had seen the whole scenario from where
he was sitting under a tree, was left open-mouthed.

‘What’s up?’ asked David, one of his friends. ‘You look like you’ve seen a
ghost.’

‘I don’t believe it. I don’t believe it….. Did you see that little shit?’ He
pointed his finger at Goyo. ‘Not only has that jerk scored a goal, Patricia, MY
Patricia, planted a couple of smackers on him. Can you believe it? I’ll kill him
for that, I’ll kill him!’ Rafa shouted, spitting foam.

‘Easy, easy, it’s no big deal,’ David soothed, taking him by the arm to
stop him falling there and then on Goyo. ‘Come on, we’ve got to go to class.’

‘Tell Miguel and Javi to come to the den this afternoon. We need to talk.’
Tearing his away, he stood up and shook the sand from his jeans.

The school buses waited about half an hour or more before leaving their
allotted parking space. That left a bit of time forth e pupils to play, chat, or
simply fall tiredly into their seats while they waited.

Like they did every time they wanted to cook up something important,
Rafa’s gang used this time to meet in their den, a shed once used by the
gardeners but now semi-derelict with rusty shelves, the remains of the
institutional-coloured green paint and flower pots filled with dried out earth.
Empty hessian sacks and a rake with a broken handle completed the scene.
This was their place where they came to when they wanted to have a smoke
away from the prying eyes of the too vigilant teachers. Although the shed had
been used by many over the years, Rafa and his gang had taken total control
of it. They used a small padlock to lock the door, so keeping everyone else
out and stopping them from discovering their little secrets hidden among the
flower pots – cigarettes, lighters, a small penknife and an old radio which
luckily still worked and allowed them to tune in to their favourite station.

57
 ‘Javi’s not here yet, as usual. The imbecile is always late, and I don’t
know how he manages it,’ grumbled Rafa.

‘We can start without him if you want,’ Miguel, the most timid of the four,
fawned.

‘Yeah, Rafa. Let’s start so we don’t have to run like crazy to catch the
bus. The last time I missed it, and I was none too pleased,’ complained David,
the redhead.

‘Right. But that idiot will pay for being late,’ said Rafa. ‘To continue, I’ve
got you all here to make that little runt Goyo’s life impossible. I don’t know if
you realise it, but he’s getting a bit too cocksure of himself these days. Today
he crowned it all by scoring a goal at football and acting as if he were
Ronaldo. I won’t put up with it. I want to hit him in class, outside, everywhere -
wherever it hurts him most. And I’ve got a plan that’s sure to get him his just
desserts. No one will want to know him afterwards. I’m counting on you lot to
do the necessary. O.K?

‘Sure, great,’ chorused David and Miguel.

‘I’m going to get him, and I want you all there to back me up when it
happens,’ Rafa added. ‘This little bastard is going to pay for this. If he thinks
he’s going to get off with Patricia, I’ll spell it out for him that he’ll have me to
deal with.’

‘But Patricia never goes near anybody. She’s not interested in

boyfriends.’ David cut in.

The gang leader turned to him and swiped him over the head.’ Idiot!
Don’t interrupt and never contradict!’

‘Ow! O.K., O.K.,‘ he cried, raising his hands to protect his head.

‘Come on, stop cowering like a poof and light me a joint. We’ll have a
smoke and then get going.’

The three lit and shared the spliff with tobacco no doubt filched from one
of their mother’s handbags. They spent little time having a puff. In truth, they
did not enjoy it much; smoking still made them cough and splutter, but they
forced themselves to inhale so that the others would not accuse them of not
being manly enough. More than one secretly hoped that Rafa would forget the
smoke, but he seemed determined to almost make it a part of the gang. It was
like a faithful friend to him. He could turn to it whenever he needed to hide
behind something. The boys had no idea what they were starting, They were
sentencing themselves to a long, slow and sure death, not just of their bodies,
but worse still, of their minds and spirits. Five or six drags later, the gang
checked their watches and hurriedly stubbed out the dog end. They picked up
their backpacks, padlocked the door and ran to the bus park.

58
 Only then, when silence had returned to the hideout, advertising that
there was no one around, did a shadow slide from the bushes nearby. A
camera clicked and you could hear the sound of the film winding on. Then the
figure walked soundlessly and quickly away.

The end of May was not a time for playing around. Goyo was obliged to
keep his nose to the grindstone rather more than usual. His marks had gone
down considerably since Rafa and co had begun targeting him. Now he was
trying to reverse the downward spiral and get good enough marks in June to
pass the whole course and avoid resits. So he left the SYF disk on one side
for a few days and focused completely on studying for the exams.

At school he usually walked around the gardens and passageways with

Lika and Red. Although Goyo was desperate to share more magic moments
like he had that Saturday morning, he had to contain himself. Lika was
preoccupied too, and Red was careful not to say too much for fear of
distracting them from their scholarly efforts. Even so, Goyo was pleased with
the growing changes in his life. His relationship with the rest of the pupils had
improved so much in the last few weeks that he felt enthusiastic about SYF
and keen to continue working with it. Once when he met with Red, Goyo
bounded joyfully up to him, shouting, ‘Red! Red! I’ve decided I’m going to be
the best martial arts expert in the whole world, just like Huangzu!’ He took up
position and faked a few karate chops.

‘Why do you want to be the best martial arts expert?’ asked Red.

‘So nobody can mess me about,’ Goyo replied with enthusiasm.

Red regarded the teenager with a kindly smile and caught him gently by
the shoulders. ‘Goyo, you can be anything you want in life, but you do not
need to be the best. Huangzu taught me with his simplicity and humility that
you do not need to be the best cook in all the oceans to make a great meal.
Don’t fall into the trap of needing to be the best in order to feel satisfied and
happy with yourself, because then your happiness depends on whether
another person is better or not than you. Do you remember Snow White’s
stepmother’s foul temper when she looked into the mirror and saw that there
was still someone better looking than she was? The important thing in life is
not to be the best. It doesn’t matter what you do at all. It matters how you do
it. Any profession can be either tremendously worthwhile or despicably awful,
depending on how you carry it out, with what degree of conscientiousness
and love you put into it.

‘But Red! If I make myself the very best, nobody will mess me about,’
Goyo insisted.

‘Goyo, whatever you are looking for in martial arts can be found in a
flower, a book, a profession, or on the lips of a friend. What you are really
searching for becoming a martial arts expert is simply the wisdom that
enables you to connect with your true self. You told me not so long ago that
you watched the Harry Potter film. Wasn’t there some wisdom in the story that

59
you found by opening your eyes to it? Isn’t there some wisdom to understand
and learn in the thousand and one situations we find ourselves in in life, if we
keep our eyes open?’

‘Yes. Yes, I suppose so,’ Goyo said thoughtfully. ‘Even so, I still want to
be a martial arts expert!’ he shouted, enthusiastic once more, before darting
away from the gardener.

‘That’s good,’ a smiling Red called after him. Maybe you will after all
make a fine martial arts expert. Why ever not?’

***

The boys and girls changing rooms were kept open during gym class.
They were not very modern, so the pupils had no separate lockers for their
belongings. That afternoon, while the gym teacher, an ex-Olympic champion,
kept an expert eye on a game of handball, two silhouettes slid into the girls’
changing room.

‘Do you know which one it is?’ whispered Javi as he rummaged through
a pile of sports and school bags which crowded a corner of the room. ‘I seem
to remember it’s a pink one with blue stripes.’

‘Wait, maybe it’s this one,’ said Miguel, pulling out one that answered
Javi’s description. ‘Yes! It has her name on it: Patricia Torres.’

‘Great. Hurry up and open it. Take her purse. Quickly!’ Javi ran to the
door to watch for anyone who might surprise them there.

Miguel took out the pink and turquoise purse with a drawing of a bear on
it and stowed it in the pocket of his denim jacket. ‘How can they be so soppy?’
he thought with disgust. He closed the bag and put it back where he had
found it, near the bottom of the pile. Then they both dashed away without
being seen. They did not hang around and quickly reached the main school
building about 500 yards from the gym. They ran up the stairs to the top floor,
the third, quietly opened the back door of the natural science room and crept
in to join their classmates.

The teacher was an old biddy who could not see very well. She was
writing on the blackboard, her glasses perched on the end of her nose.
Dusting her hands to get rid of the chalk dust as she turned around, her eyes
lit on Javi and Miguel, who were sitting with their backs straight and unusually
attentive to her narrative. She smiled and carried on and the boys breathed a
sigh of relief. A few minutes later, when they had got their breath back, Javier
passed the purse under his desk to Rafa. Rafa put it in his bag and waited
patiently with a satisfied smile on his face for the class to end.

The maths class was next, and they did not have to change rooms for it.
It meant that those who wanted to had a few minutes to stretch their legs in

60
the corridor while they waited for the maths teacher. That was the ideal
moment for Rafa to carry on with his scheme.

‘If Goyo doesn’t go into the corridor in the break, make up any old
excuse to get him out,’ Rafa whispered to Javi, his most faithful accomplice.

The bell rang and everyone rushed to the door to make the most of their
few minutes of freedom. Goyo looked out of the window, losing himself in the
view of trees and terraced houses outside. He did not feel like moving.

‘Goyo! There’s a girl here who has a question for you,’ Javi, sticking his
round the door, called out to him.

Goyo woke from his daydream with a start, rose and made his way to the
corridor, expecting to see either Lika or his travelling companion, Maria. There
was no one there waiting for him. He turned round to look for Javi but could
not see him anywhere. With a shrug of his shoulders, he turned and went
back to his seat. He did not notice that his school bag was open and lay a few
centimetres away from where he had left it.

Everything was going according to Rafa’s plan. It would be a great

success. When the bell finally rang, the clamour in the corridor filtered back to
the classroom. The teacher, one of the youngest in the school, was usually
late, and the noise level rose accordingly.

Maths sounds like double Dutch to anyone who does not understand it
much. The language is like a code that has no key to it. Although the teacher
tries his best every which way to help make it clear, you stare at him, gaping
and bewildered. Goyo was like that. However hard he tried, he could not
unravel the mystery contained in the numbers which danced around his head.
He made a valiant effort to concentrate hard that afternoon as he tried to
understand what the teacher was saying about the slippery information. The
only number he was familiar with was zero, the mark he usually got in his
tests, be they algebra or geometry. The knowledge that it was a Hindu or
Mayan idea that had been taken over by the Arabs was the only fact that
stuck with him.

When the class ended, Rafa and co followed Goyo a careful distance
behind. They had to keep him in their sights if their plan was to succeed.
Once in the courtyard and before Goyo could head for the bus park to catch
the number 32 which took him straight to his home in the Pilar district, Javi got
behind him without being seen and crouched down. At the same time, Rafa
came out from behind one of the concrete pillars that supported the school’s
first floor and cut him off.

‘Hey! Where are you going, you poof?’ He stopped Goyo in his tracks
and kept him there while his eyes searched for someone in the crowd. When
he finally spotted Patricia and her crowd of friends rushing out of the building,
he began to put the rest of the scheme into action.

61
 ‘Hey everybody! Have you noticed our little Goyo here is the new school
hero? He’s fat and he scores goals, so he thinks he’s Renaldo. Hah!’ Rafa
raised his voice to be heard by everyone rushing around and towards him.

It only needed a little push to send Goyo sprawling onto his backside as
he tripped over Javi strategically placed behind him. His backpack opened
right then and a couple of books and jotters fell out.

‘Look! What have we got here? Little Goyo’s backpack. Let’s see what
he carries around in it, our new little school hero.’ Rafa was becoming bolder
as a group of pupils surrounded him and watched expectantly.

Goyo for his part, shocked by the sudden attack, lay motionless on the
ground. His mind had gone totally blank, his breathing became shallow and
he knew neither what to say or do. The SYF information had disappeared in a
puff of smoke and he had not the remotest idea what could help him. Perhaps
guided by her intuition, Patricia pushed a few of the others aside to reach the
front.

Rafa saw, and carried on as planned; ‘And see what we have here….
Some bits of bread…. Don’t you get enough to eat in the dining room? Need
to build yourself up more? What’s up? Mummy doesn’t give you enough at
home? Or are you on a diet, you fat tub of lard?’

‘Leave him alone, Rafa,’ one of the older boys called out.

‘Leave him alone?’ Rafa’s voice trembled slightly. A silence fell in the
group. All eyes were on Rafa in expectation. How would he end the situation
which had become more and more tense? He, meanwhile, said nothing,
perhaps because he was still thinking how to carry out his plan. Finally, he
said in a conciliatory tone, ‘All, right, Goyo. Take your bag.’ He threw it down
at Goyo’s feet. The way he threw it meant that the whole of the rest of its
contents spilled all over the ground. Amongst the books, jotters, pieces of
bread, pencils and rulers, a pink purse appeared.

‘Well, there you go! I was right to call him a poofter!. Look what little
Goyo has hidden away in his bag – a pink purse!’ Rafa shouted triumphantly.

‘Hey, Patricia, is that not your purse?’ Patricia’s friend Monica exclaimed
as she pointed at it.

An anxious silence immediately fell on the crowd. Patricia walked over to

where Goyo’s stuff was scattered and bent down to pick up the purse. As if
she could not believe her eyes, she opened it and inspected the contents. The
rest watched her expectantly.

‘Yes, it’s mine,’ she finally whispered. Then, turning towards Goyo who
was still lying on the ground, she asked, ‘Why? Why did you need to steal
from me?’

62
 Goyo silence was the most uncomfortable one in his life. If a tumult of
emotions were growing inside him, outside he was unable to utter a single
word in his defence. Nothing. Fear, nerves and the surprise of the attack left
him helpless. He was not even able to get up off the ground, far less put some
distance between himself and his attacker. He hung his head and looked
downward, so showing everyone the apparent evidence of his guilt.

‘Hah! You see? Here we have our hero, Goyo Martinez, great goal
scorer, poofter and thief,’ Rafa ruled, driving the final nail home.

Still Goyo lay on the ground, incapable of uttering one word.

‘O.K., let’s go. Patricia. This guy doesn’t deserve a single moment more
of your time,’ said Monica as she took hold of her friend’s arm and led her
away. Patricia darted a quick smile of thanks at Rafa for having helped her
recover her property. Even so, she left with a heavy heart full of
disappointment.

‘What’s happening here?’ asked a teacher who had just arrived on the
scene.

‘Nothing,’ replied Rafa who escaped quickly followed by his friends. The
rest of the crowd dispersed, leaving Goyo where he lay, weak and
devastated.

‘Did you fall, son?’ asked the teacher as he helped him up.

‘Yes. I tripped. Many thanks,’ quavered Goyo. He picked up his things,

all the while keeping his head down to hide his face reddened with shame.
The first tears began to course down his cheeks.

The youngster could barely remember what happened afterwards. His

mind had gone blank, lost in a tunnel somewhere. It was as much as he could
do to find his bus and get off at the right stop. For the rest, he felt he had been
driven into a well deep inside of himself and he could see no way out.

When he finally arrived home, he did not have to lie much in order to
escape to his room. He already had a fever and it was obvious to his mother
straight away. She did not need to go searching for the thermometer. For
three days and nights he lay shivering in bed, neither eating nor speaking.
The G.P. could only put it down to a spring flu which had affected Goyo much
worse than usual and recommended bed rest for a few days.

There was no light. There was no way out. Goyo had been tossed into a
dark, bitter solitude, as suddenly as if a strong wind that sucks everything in
its path had arisen out of nowhere and dumped him there. Anyone who has
been there and still remembers the unhappy pall of that shivery, dark prison
inside, knows all too well what we are talking about.

63
 Chapter 6

Breaking Out of the Trap

They noticed Goyo’s absence. Red had a feeling that something was not
right and asked his niece to check with Goyo’s class to find out what she
could. Once she heard the news, she rushed to tell her uncle.
‘Do you think Goyo could possibly have stolen the purse?’ a surprised
Lika asked him.
‘From what you tell me, the boys who exposed the robbery are the same
ones who torment the life out of Goyo. Don’t you think that’s a bit too much of
a coincidence, my little niece?’
‘Yes,’ she answered. ‘But what do you think we can we do about it?
‘I think it would be a good idea for you to pay him a visit and have a chat
with him. Now would be a good time to tell Goyo the story of what happened
to you. Give him a hug from me and let me know how you get on. I’ll finish
trimming the cypresses at the school entrance meantime.’
Lika could see how worried her uncle was as she watched him walk
away. It was not often that she saw him with such a serious expression on his
face. She hurried to find Goyo’s telephone number and call his mother for the
address. On that Thursday afternoon, when the victim had been in bed for
three days, she rang the doorbell at his home.
‘He’s in his bedroom, but I must tell you he is not interested in speaking
to anybody,’ his mother told her as she carried on peeling potatoes. ‘His room
is at the end of the hallway, next to the bathroom. It has a Lord of the Rings
poster on the door. By the way, aren’t you a little old to be in my son’s class?’
she said, looking Lika up and down.
‘Oh, I’m not in his class. We are school friends, nothing more,’ Lika
replied, going off and finding her way around her new friend’s house with self-
assurance.
Goyo lay motionless on his bed. He did not turn from staring at the wall
when he heard the door creak open. On seeing the mess that reigned on the
room, Lika nudged aside a few T-shirts piled on the floor with her foot and
came to sit cross-legged by the bed.
‘Turn around and look me in the face,’ she ordered.
‘I don’t want to talk. I’m not well.’
‘Come on, Goyo. Turn around. I need to talk with you.’
Resigned at Lika’s insistence, Goyo twisted slowly round, though he still
kept his body curled up and his head on the pillow. He still refused to look at
her. By the look on his face, she could see that he was utterly destroyed.
‘Tell me that it was you who stole that purse.’
The boy still said nothing.

64
 ‘So, your silence is telling me that you did?’ Lika persisted, shocked at
his passivity.
‘It means that whatever I say, whatever I do, someone has decided that I
stole that purse and I don’t know how and I don’t know why and I don’t
understand anything at all.’ The words came out of Goyo’s mouth in a rush.
‘So you didn’t steal it, then?’ Lika came back.
‘Do you really think I did? Goyo looked at the girl for the first time. A
glimmer of anger roused him.
‘It’s not about what I believe, Goyo. What do you believe?’
‘I know it wasn’t me. But that doesn’t mean anything, because it looks
like I did. The whole world thinks I nicked it because I couldn’t defend myself
at the time, and now they think that’s proof of how guilty I am,’ he sobbed, his
wretchedness returning.
Lika remained silent. At least she had dragged a few words out of him
and it was absolutely clear to her that he was innocent. The boy sat up in bed
and crossed his legs in imitation of Lika. He rubbed his head in distress and
looked at his friend with tears in his eyes.
‘Why me? Why me? What did I ever do? Can you tell me what have I
ever done to deserve being attacked like this? Why? Why? Why?’ Goyo
sobbed piteously.
Lika moved nearer and hugged Goyo fiercely as he broke down and
wept inconsolably.
With her ear glued to the door, a distressed mother understood then that
something terrible had happened to her son, and worse still, that he had
hidden it from her. He preferred to suffer in silence rather than confide in her.
She stayed crouched, scarcely breathing, determined not to miss a word of
anything that was said. Her mind was in turmoil.
After Goyo dried his tears, Lika took a deep breath to gather her mind
together. She continued, ‘I used to ask myself why those girls picked on me
last year, too. I didn’t find an answer because, as I later discovered, I wasn’t
asking the right question.’
Surprised, Goyo looked up and asked, ‘So what is the right question?’
‘The right question is, ‘Why do some people pick the worst way possible
to get attention, and so feel a false sense of power?’’
Goyo spent a few minutes getting his head around what Lika had said.
He had not a clue how to respond. For the first time since he had hidden
himself away beneath the sheets while pretending to be ill, he dimly realised
that if he could look at the situation differently, a whole new horizon of
possibilities opened up. Suddenly, the deep, dark well he found himself in
began to light up.
‘Are you telling me that the problem is not in me, but in them?’ he
ventured, visibly brightening.
‘Absolutely, Goyo.’
A cloud of heavy thoughts then settled back down on the boy as the
beaten look returned to his face. ‘I didn’t know what to do. I forgot everything I
learned in SYF, Lika. It didn’t help me at all. They attacked me, I fell to the
ground, they called me names, I said nothing, they accused me of theft, I did
not defend myself. It was horrible. I felt awful, couldn’t speak, couldn’t figure
out how to react to get myself out of the situation. I behaved like a coward,
like a piece of shit, like a….girl!’ he finally spat out.

65
 ‘Don’t say that, Goyo. You are not a coward and neither are girls,
generally. They were simply determined to lay a trap for you. Life is full of the
kinds of situations that hurt a lot of people who have done nothing to deserve
them.’
‘It’s no consolation to me that other people get caught too,’ the youngster
replied.
‘Of course it’s not a consolation, but it is a relief to know that you’re not
alone in being tricked. I had the same unspeakable things happen to me when
those girls were making my life a misery, and look at me now. I feel great, I
am stronger than I have ever been and I have grown a huge amount since
then, thanks to the experience. I wouldn’t wish it on anybody, but since it
happened, I have been able to learn a great deal from it and now I have a
strength that I didn’t have before.’
Goyo looked Lika up and down. It was true the girl inspired in him a great
respect. There was something in her that he secretly admired, an inner
strength that was reflected in all her gestures and words, a certain something
that was almost magical, that made Lika stand out from the rest of the girls.
She radiated confidence and serenity. Was it a greater maturity or depth, he
had wondered on one occasion? Maybe it was the work of SYF? Maybe it
was the influence of Red and his adventurous life.
‘How did you overcome the bullying, Lika?’ he asked.
She looked out of the window for a few moments, perhaps searching for
the best way to express herself. Finally she turned towards him and took a
deep breath before she replied. ‘Just like you, I reached bottom. Those girls
continually picked on me, never let up calling me names. Once four of them
cornered me and beat me up. I did my best to defend myself, used to fighting
with my brothers at home as I was, but that didn’t help. It actually made
matters worse. From then on, they didn’t dare hit me, but they hassled me
with insults and persecuted me everywhere I turned. They didn’t let up for a
single moment. When I thought I had given them the slip, they would suddenly
appear with their wounding commentaries that made me feel worse and
worse. It was too much, and I didn’t know what to do. They hounded more
and more each day until I could no longer see anything clearly. It was real
mental torture. I absolutely believed everything they threw at me, so that the
hurtful words shaped my sense of who I was. If they picked on my spots or my
physical looks, they hammered the words home relentlessly so that they stuck
into me like poisoned darts, marking me forever. I was isolated and withdrew
into myself. I had never had a problem relating to boys, because I had four
older brothers, but those girls had me ashamed of my body, my face, my
whole being. You know, I almost became anorexic….’
‘Blimey! How awful, Lika. I’m very sorry. How on earth did you overcome
all that?’
‘The first part was the most difficult of all,’ she replied, plunging into a
sea of memories.
‘What was that?’ Goyo could barely contain himself.
‘I was in the same place you are now. Usually when something traumatic
happens to us, we tend to stay caught in the situation. We feel we’ll never get
out. That's where you are, right at the beginning. You have to find your way
out. What happened to you is a trap, and you will be able to break out of it the
same way you got in. That is the very first thing you need to realise.’

66
 ‘And how can I do that?’ the boy asked, more and more intrigued.
‘To start with, change the way you see the situation and your position in
it.’
‘I don’t understand what you’re saying.’ Goyo’s face creased in
frustration.
‘How can I put it another way? At times like these, there is no way you
can change what your attacker does, but you do have a way to change your
idea of the attack itself and where you stand in it.’
‘And how does that help me?’ Goyo was having difficulty believing what
he was hearing.
‘Well, it helps you a lot. It helps you out of the trap your attackers set for
you and puts you somewhere else. You think that’s not much?’ Lika asked.
‘Well, how do I do that?’ he insisted, still visibly confused.
‘You can use what happened to you the other day as an opportunity to
actually free yourself from the bullying you have been suffering. You’ve been
reading SYF, and yes, theory is all very well to help you understand things,
but sometimes reality can be quite different and take you by surprise. You’re
suddenly enmeshed in a spider’s web where you can’t see clearly. I’m trying
to explain, but I’m not sure I’m getting there. Please be patient with me, O.K.?’
‘O.K.’
‘Imagine that your attackers are playing a war game on your game
console. They decide who’ll play what. They decide they are team X, the
invading army, and they also decide that you are Y, the person they have to
beat. Without discussing it with you at all, they design the whole game – the
plot, the weapons they’ll use, the weapons you’ll have, where the battle
ground is to be, how, when and who will lose and die. In other words, they are
simply serving you up on a plate and eating you for breakfast. That’s what
happened to you the other day when they attacked and accused you of
stealing. Yet it was only a virtual reality game. Can you see now how the
apparently imaginary game became a part of your reality and left you trapped
in it?’ Lika pleaded.
‘Wow! Do you mean that when I’m attacked it’s like I’m entering into a
‘Matrix’, like entering into a false reality created by some people in order to
dominate others?’
‘Exactly! Exactly that!’ Lika cried enthusiastically. ‘You’ve got it.’
‘Amazing!’ Goyo, excited by the realisation, rubbed his eyes and head.
‘So my mistake was to believe that I was ‘Y’, and to identify myself with him,
eh?’
‘Right! All you need to do is to shake the weight of the role they are
expecting you to play off your shoulders. Although it may be difficult to grasp,
it is the bullies who have the real problems. Inside, they are playing a game
against themselves. They believe that they are attacking us, but deep down,
they are repeating patterns that they have learned in other environments,
maybe at home or somewhere else. Their aggression is designed like a virtual
reality programme, which they try to implant in our minds. They manage to
sustain it only by continually convincing their accomplices of it. The rest of us
are caught in that trap only if we believe the bully and accept the role that they
wish to assign to us, that is, the role of victim where we are going to lose in
any conflict, or the role of stealer of purses. We then enter into the bully’s trap,
the trap that now holds him and his victim. The solution is simply not to

67
identify ourselves either with the trap or with the role that they wish on us. If
we fall into it for a while and feel caught, we just need to become aware of it
and take ourselves out of the game, out of the ‘Matrix’, so to speak. You
follow me?’ Lika enquired
‘Phew! That’s really heavy, what you’re telling me, Lika. ‘It’s doing my
head in just thinking about it. I’ve never thought about video games in that
way.’
‘I know. It’s just that simple, if you manage to grasp it. Your mind is wide
open and you suddenly begin to see how easy it is to free yourself from these
mind traps. And another thing you need to take on board is that the bully is
not targetting you especially, because you are Goyo Martinez. The affair has
nothing to do with you at all, so never take it personally. The attacker is
trapped in a repeating pattern of behaviour that he does not know how to free
himself from. He is the one who is imprisoned, not you. And the worst of it is,
by choosing this way of working, the bully is condemning himself to living a
never ending lie, suffering permanent stress and surrounded by people who
either fear him or feel ashamed of him. Maintaining this appearance of
conquering hero eats up a huge part of his energy and he will finally realise
that all his efforts got him nowhere, nothing but the destruction of his own life.’
‘Phew!’ sighed Goyo again.
‘Do you feel better now?’
‘You won’t believe it, but the fact is, I do. You’ve taken a huge weight off
me, Lika.’
‘Where did you feel that weight?’
Goyo remained silent for a few moments while he took stock of what was
happening in his body. He was trying to locate exactly where he felt that
tension.
‘In my heart, back and stomach,’ he said finally.
‘When you feel tension in your body, locate the exact spot and give your
attention to it. Then use your breathing to calm it down. With every breath that
you take in, feel that area becoming more and more relaxed, and with each
breath that you let out, feel the tension disappearing. You can accompany the
technique with thoughts such as ‘With each breath that I breathe in, I am
relaxing,’ and ‘I release tension with each breath that I breathe out.’ You will
see, it works wonderfully,’ Lika encouraged.
Goyo quietly practised the breathing as she had told him until two deep
sighs showed how relaxed he had become.
‘Even so, tell me something, Lika. Although I know all this about mind
traps, how will it help me with the situation I am in?’
‘Give yourself time. You won’t get all the answers in one full swoop.
What you have learned today is enough, don’t you think? Knowing how to get
out of a trap simply by refusing to enter into it allows you to tackle situations in
quite a different way. You suddenly see that you are no longer forced to be a
victim. You are a witness to how a bully tries to set his trap. Above all, you
see how he himself falls victim to his own machinations.’
‘Yes, but, will I manage to remember all this when they attack me again?’
Goyo looked anxious.
‘You didn’t remember all that you have read in SYF the other day
because all this is still new to you. You need to train the neurons in your brain,
like a boxer or karate expert trains his muscles, teaching them new moves.’

68
 ‘But although I know this is all the bully’s mind game, what about all the
others? They think I stole that purse, and therefore Rafa’s ploy worked. He
conned everybody, and I was helpless.’ Goyo’s anxiousness did not seem to
be abating.
‘Maybe you’re worrying too much about what others think?’ his friend
threw in. ‘That is the most difficult part in all this. If you manage to overcome
that, you will have won one of the most important battles in the whole
business.’
‘I cannot bear to be blamed for something I didn’t do. Then I either
seethe with fury, so that the rest see me as a violent nutcase, or I stay quiet
and helpless, as I did the other day. It’s all too distressing.
‘I understand you. That happened to me too, would you believe?’ Lika
replied. We can so easily go from one extreme to another. But my mother
usually has a saying: ‘What goes around comes around,’ she says.
‘Yes, that’s true, but meanwhile you’re up shit creek and that’s not fair!’
‘Yeah. When I say that, my mother always answers that ‘no one ever told
you that life was easy’. Right, now it’s time for me to go. I’ll come back and
visit you tomorrow, if you want. Why don’t you carry on with SYF while you
are convalescing? Maybe it will help you to strengthen your new way of
seeing things.’
‘Thank you for coming, Lika. I feel much better,’ said Goyo, hugging her.
‘My pleasure. See you tomorrow,’ she called as she left the room.
With a smile on his face, Goyo sat for a while looking at the door.
Suddenly, the smell of his dirty T-shirts and socks reminded him that his room
had not seen fresh air for days. He decided to tidy up a bit, raise the blind and
open the window.
Once in the hall, Lika searched Goyo’s mother to say goodbye. She
found her, compulsively biting her nails as she sat on a stool in the kitchen.
The two looked at each other in silence as an endless amount of unspoken
questions and emotions passed between them.
‘Goyo’s fine. They attacked him at school and accused him of something
he didn’t do,’ explained the girl. ‘None of the teachers knows, and the affair
hasn’t gone any further, but it’s best that you are aware of it in case you want
to do something about it.’
‘Do you know if this is the first time this has happened to him?’
‘I think that it would be better for you to speak to Goyo about that,’ Lika
replied.
‘I’ll do that. You can’t begin to imagine a mother’s pain when she finds
out that her son has been suffering in silence, never sharing what he is going
through with you.’ Mercedes accompanied the young girl to the door thanking
her in a way only a mother could.

69
 Chapter 7
The Secret of Not Two

Goyo observed the soft mound his tummy made under the bedclothes,
which rose and fell with his breathing. It was a pleasure to be lying here in bed
on a Friday morning missing English, history and maths and his feet jiggled as
if to show how happy he was. His mother had been especially caring and
understanding and that morning brought him up a lovely breakfast on a tray.
Goyo felt like a maharaja as he sat eating and drinking in bed.

But at around ten o’clock, the memory of all that had happened several
days ago came back to haunt him. His tummy stopped rising and falling in a
fluid rhythm as his breath started catching. The calm and peaceful feelings he
had woken up with gave way to tension and nervousness. Then he
remembered the abandoned WYN disc, which was half buried under a pile of
books and jotters. Goyo decided to get up, and stretching his body still weak
from convalescing, switched on the computer.

In the prison of your mind

Anyone who is attacked and suffers regular bullying over a

period of time is quite likely to develop what is happening in his
daily life into an internal pattern. Thus he will recreate the figure of
the bully in his mind and have an inner bully very similar to the
external one that he is all too familiar with. This invisible enemy can
linger in someone’s mind for many years, continuing to torment him
so much so that it conditions how he behaves in every day life. It
prevents him from acting naturally, since he adopts the
mannerisms of someone who has been maltreated and let down
when interacting with others. Someone under the spell of an
internal bully does not have an easy path in life. He never ceases
to carry the weight of the enemy on his back. At the slightest
opportunity it tries to trip him up and sabotage his chances of
happiness.

Have you seen Jennifer Lopez’ film, ‘The Cell?’ In the wicked
adult figure who terrorises the assassin’s inner child, you have a
good example of an interior bully. The way to overcome it is to
recover our inner power, our self-esteem, our capacity to act and to
transform those aspects of ourselves that are not helpful to us. It is
possible to do all this when we realise the trap, the false trickery the

70
bully uses to frighten, dominate and paralyse us. Our freedom is
only a step away when we change our internal position, because
then we are able to act externally in ways that reflect our new way
of thinking, so dealing differently with attacks. Once we have
changed our outward behaviour a couple of times, we have already
begun to train our whole being to substitute this new way for our old
victim mentality. We avoid falling into the trap the attacker has laid
for us. But as with everything in life, it does require practise.

Breaking the spell, changing your position and escaping

the labyrinth

It is very like that everyone who has been the victim of

aggression will have asked at some point, ‘Why me?’ ‘Why me
exactly?’ Although it’s a natural and valid question, we find that if
you do not look beyond it, it will leave you stuck. The impossibility
of answering it satisfactorily leaves you feeling more mired than
ever in the situation the attack provoked. Why? Well, because all
the answers you come up with will leave you feeling
disempowered. You end up wanting to change a substantial part of
yourself – your social and cultural roots, the way you look, etc. –
only because a bully or bullies do not like something specific about
you. Who says that you can and must change? What’s to say that,
once you have changed whatever it was they didn’t like, that they
would not find something else to pick on? As you can see, living
each day wondering if something in you is acceptable is not the
way. You become a slave to other people’s opinions and
preference, always reacting to others.

There are many people who have been brought up in family

and social environments where they are constantly criticised, so
much so that they only know how to react. They are forever
dependent on others, continually seeking their approval in order to
feel good about themselves. The result is actually a kind of
domination that controls the one who supplies the care and
support. You don’t really want to fall into this trap, because it does
not make for healthy relationships.

If the question ‘Why me?’ has not helped you to find an

answer, we need to look for another, more useful question to ask.
‘Why do some people choose the worst way to seek others’
attention in order to feel a false sense of power?’

How does this question sound to you? Now, suddenly, it’s not
your problem. You are no longer the focus of attention. Your
attacker is. Why does the bully need so much attention from others
and seek to find it in the worst possible way? Why does he need to
feel powerful through attacking others? Is it not a phony kind of

71
 feeling, one that is obtained by force, deceit and coercion? Think
about it. If someone needs to create situations where he dominates
others, in order to gain attention, isn’t he rather a slave of this
attention? So which is the more powerful, the bully or his own
need? What do you think? Who is caught in the trap, the bully or
you?

How you under stand and perceive an attack will greatly

determine the result and the effects it will have on you, because
how you interpret the situation will determine how you position
yourself. Adopting the best possible position is essential in order to
avoid a goring from a charging bull, for example.

In addition, someone who needs to dominate others by

whatever means – mentally, emotionally or physically – has no
power at all, since power resides within oneself, never outside
through domination. Never forget that. All power gained through
domination is a sham, because there is no inner power, no self-
control. Power has its origin in conquering the self, and this
requires working on the self.

Goyo stopped for a moment. The words ‘working on the self’ echoed
around his head. He had already heard the words from Red, but had no real
idea yet what they meant.

He promised himself that he would ask the gardener as soon as he

could. He had an inkling that there he would find the keys that would help him
find this longed for inner power. ‘Maybe that will be the saving of me,’ he
thought as he began to read again.

Not two and the art of positioning yourself

When Huangzu went into his kitchen that Saturday morning,

he found a dozen or so pieces of broken crockery scattered among
his pots and pans on the floor, indicating the scene of a hot-
tempered brawl. He looked down at me busily picking up the debris
as fast as I could. Here I was immersed in another fight and I
sighed unhappily.

‘I want to learn from you,’ Huangzu said in his Chinese accent

as he leaned his arm on my left shoulder. ‘How do you manage
bring so much aggression on yourself? What have you done to
incur the wrath of these seamen.’

That brought me to a halt. I looked at the broken glass I was

holding in my hands. I hadn’t a clue how to answer him. It had

72
never entered my head that I was doing anything to attract
anybody’s anger. That was not possible. In fact, just the opposite. I
was trying hard to be invisible amongst the crew of hard-bitten
sailors. I had no stomach for fighting.

‘It’s not me. It’s them,’ I muttered under my breath.

‘Me, them, me, them. How much longer are you going to
deceive yourself with the illusion of Two?’ Huangzu enquired.

‘The illusion of Two?’ I asked.

‘I’ve already told you the solution is in Not Two.’

‘I don’t know what you mean, Huangzu.’

‘Tell me something. When these sailors begin their attack,

what’s you attitude? Inside?’

I was surprised at the question, and sat motionless as I tried

to remember what I felt. ‘I tense up immediately and go on the
defensive, ready to fight back. It feels like they know how to bring
out the worst in me,’ I answered.

‘They’re the enemy, right?’

‘Well, yes. That’s how I feel.’

‘Let’s do something,’ the cook said. ‘During the coming week,

your task after your work in the kitchen will be to visualise that you
meet these Englishmen without them affecting you. Imagine as
powerfully as you can that you are all sharing the same narrow,
physical space, maybe the gangways in the ship, and that you feel
absolutely no enmity, animosity, hatred or distrust. There is nothing
at all between you, not even a chopstick. Try to find that point
inside you where they provoke no reaction in you at all. Look for
that point where you can stand before them feeling only peace.
When you feel comfortable visualising and feeling that neutrality, let
me know.’

‘But Huangzu, visualising is not exactly the same as actually

confronting these men,’ I protested.

‘Shut up and do it,’ the cook growled. ‘You need to train your
body and your mind to get used to new behaviours and attitudes
and that’s how you begin. In your country, you first have to peel the
potatoes to make a tortilla, don’t you?’

I looked at him in silence. His face, weather-beaten by sun

and sea breeze, was topped by a big baldhead and his slanting

73
black eyes looked at me with both firmness and softness. ‘Why
does this man take such pains with me,’ I wondered. I lost myself
for a few moments gazing at his wild black and white beard as I
asked myself endless questions about this man’s life. The
Chinaman jolted me out of my reverie.

‘Let’s go. You have a mountain of potatoes to peel today.’

During that week, the four Englishmen who had been

constantly at my side, as if by magic, kept a distance between us.
Or did they perhaps intuitively know that I was visualising all kinds
of situations featuring them when they decided to vanish. Who
knows? The only certainty was that I visualised and I visualised,
imagining myself in all sorts of scenes. My moods swung from high
to low and back again. Some days the visualisation went really well
and I scarcely felt a flicker of emotion, but other days I felt such a
hatred and desire to fight that my whole being was disturbed,
destroying my peace of mind. When I asked Huangzu for
explanations as to whether I was doing it right or not, since I felt
more fragile than usual, the cook just looked at me dryly and drew
out the word, ‘Vis-ual-ise.’

So by the seventh night of this I was already sick to death of

these blessed Liverpudlians. But during the last exercise, instead of
getting angry at the thought of them, I felt something new take hold.
I felt weary and bored, since I knew deep inside of me what was
about to happen. I ran in search of Huangzu. My feelings about
them weren’t neutral, exactly, but the weariness felt a sufficient
step forward for me to share it with the cook.

‘Very good. You’re on the right track, but you need to visualise
for another week,’ he told me.

I was horrified. ‘Another week! Another week of imagining

situations with that lot and I’ll end up hating them, not feeling
peaceful and neutral at all!’

Huangzu, as he usually did, remained silently unrelenting. My

pleas to abandon that awful exercise met with a wall of silence.

However, the boredom did not turn into hate after all. It
developed into an emotion I would define as a slight disgust. After a
couple of days more, finally at the end of the week, I managed to
visualise the group without it provoking any significant feeling at all.

‘Do it for two more days,’ Huangzu urged. ‘You need to reach
an inner peace, even if it lasts for only a few seconds.’

The last two nights were awful. I did not want to carry on any
more, and I brought up in me all the negative emotions I had ever

74
felt in my life. I was on the point of throwing in the towel, when,
amazingly, they disappeared. I felt relaxed and peaceful in a way I
had never known before. I didn’t bat an eyelid when the
Englishmen crowded round me on my interior screen – the screen I
used to imagine all sorts of scenes as if they were a film. My
breathing became more and more easy and rhythmic and I felt as if
my whole body and mind were relaxed. Finally, I felt as if I had
stopped fighting those men within myself and I could accept them
as they were, there in my thoughts. For the first time in my whole
life, I felt I was not fighting anyone. We were all together, simply
there, not them and me as separate beings, rather mingled
together without conflict. I felt no separation whatsoever. I felt
wonderful, as if I were floating down a river with the current instead
of against it.

‘Is that what peace is?’ I asked Huangzu.

‘That is Not Two,’ the satisfied cook replied. ‘Come, let us put
these visualisations to the test. I want you to go to the machine
room where these guys work and I want you to stay there with them
long enough to find out if the exercise really worked for you. Get
going.’

My heart did a somersault and I began to feel nervous. It was

one thing to visualise these men and another, very different thing to
maintain the calmness of Not Two when they were actually there.
However, I got up my courage and decided to follow Huangzu’s
advice.

The machine room was not a place for a kitchen gofer like me,
so I was rather predisposed to expect a violent reaction from the
engineers. They saw me out of the corner of their eyes when I left
the companionway, but otherwise did not bat an eyelid as they
carried on with their repairs. But on seeing their hands blackened
from handling and repairing the machine parts, my heart started
thumping in my chest. All the violence and hate that I had struggled
with during the last two weeks came back and hit me. My blood
boiled and I was suddenly ready to start a fight, to duel with them
with as much fury as they had provoked in me, since I had enlisted
for the Daphnia.

It was then that the engineers, who had hardly paid any
attention to me, looked up and looked me in the eyes. Two of them
put their tools down on some dirty rags and wiped their hands. The
smallest one rolled up his sleeves. There was no longer any doubt.
There would be a fight. I left the room and blocked the
companionway door with a broom. I needed time to think what to
do. Feeling a great weight descend on me, I went off looking for
Huangzu. The men were banging on the door, hurling all kinds of
insults that I did not hear, such was my inner preoccupation.

75
 ‘How interesting,’ the cook said, stroking his beard. I had
found him in the pantry and I told him what had happened. ‘What
made all these violent feelings come to the surface, do you know?’

‘I don’t. I only know that as soon as I saw them they looked at

me and I knew we were going to fight,’ I answered.

‘No, Red, you are missing something. There is something very

definite that caused you to react that quickly. What was it that you
saw there that you didn’t visualise during the last week?’

I tried to compare what I had visualised with what I had seen

below in the machine room. The men were the same, their clothes
were roughly similar, and their features hadn’t changed….

‘The only thing distinctly different is that in the visualisation I

imagined them in a narrow passageway and just now I saw them in
the machine room, which is much more spacious,’ I said slowly.

‘No, there’s something more. Something that provoked a

sudden violent attack. What was it?’ Huangzu insisted.

‘Well… I don’t know…’

‘Remember what you were looking at when you felt this

attack.’

‘I was looking at their hands. Yes, their hands! That was it!
What made me nervous was their hands….’

‘What do those hands remind you of?’

‘I – I remember my – my father’s hands! That’s it! My father’s

hands were black like theirs. I remember when my father came
home drunk every day from his work in the mines, his hands were
black with coal dust.’

‘Your father used to hit you with his dirty hands, then?’ the
Chinaman asked.

‘Yes,’ I whispered.

‘Do you remember if the Englishmen had dirty hands when

you had all the other fights?’

‘Now that you say it, yes. Their hands are always dirty, like my
father’s.’

‘Ah! You’ve got it! You haven’t been fighting the Englishmen at
all. Rather it’s your father. Your visualisations were slow and

76
 difficult because you had not uncovered this memory which
aroused the ghosts in your past.’

‘Do you mean to tell me that simple, dirty hands can cause all
this?’ I asked incredulously.

‘The blackened hands are like an anchor in your mind, an

anchor that seizes you and drowns you immediately in your past.
The emotions that surrounded you there in your childhood are
strong. The hands blackened with coal dust! You unconsciously
remembered the treatment you suffered at the hands of your father,
and it aroused in you the desire for violence, perhaps because you
couldn’t fight back as a child and felt frustrated at not being able to.
Now, when you confront these men, you are really fighting your
father. If you manage to free yourself of this anchor and overcome
your past, you will perhaps even manage to strike up a friendship
with them.’

‘Do you think these men rouse me to fury because they

unconsciously sense this?’

‘Probably. It says so in the Tao. In the same way that a dog

smells fear in humans and knows it can attack, perhaps the
engineers, on an instinctive level, feel all your pent up aggression
and want you to let it out in a fight. Who knows?’ said the
Chinaman.

‘What’s the Tao?’ I then asked.

‘That’s a difficult question. It is Everything and Nothing

dancing with love, the great dance of stillness…’

Totally incapable of understanding his words, I changed the

subject. ‘I am hungry,’ I answered.

‘Come, honourable Spanish friend. Today, I shall prepare for

you my special Chop Suey,’ Huangzu laughingly replied.

That afternoon, Lika, opening the door scarcely a crack, slid into the
room. Goyo immediately threw an anxious, confused question at her. ‘I don’t
understand how visualising can help, or how visualising people who have
harmed you can either. Why isn’t it that you increase the problems, since you
have to remember and relive situations that caused you pain? And anyway,
what had that got to do with ‘repositioning yourself’ that we talked about
earlier, Lika?

‘You’ll see, you’ll see, it all ties in. Relax a little, can you? First, how are
you?’

77
 ‘Oh, hi, Lika.’

‘You’ve reached the part in WYN where Red has to visualise his enemies
on the ship for a couple of weeks, right?’

‘Yes. That’s what I’m talking about. What’s that got to do with me?’

‘Instead of choking on Chop Suey, Goyo, why don’t you just keep going?
Open the programme and let’s read the next bit together. You’ll soon
understand better.’

Goyo sighed and sat back at the computer. He pulled a chair up for Lika
and carried on reading, this time out loud.

Chop Suey is a mixture of chopped food, which, combined

creatively and knowledgeably by the master cook, make an
exquisite dish for the taster. In WYN we already have enough
ingredients to create a whole nutritional dish.

We have seen how bullies use mind games to trap their

victims and arrange the roles they have prepared for them, that is
to say, as defenceless victims. We have also seen how, if we pay
attention and understand the tricks the bully plays, we are in a
better position to resist these mind games and choose an outcome
that so benefits us that we come out of these kinds of situations
well.

In effect, we are immediately able to reposition ourselves. We

are not at the mercy of an aggressor nor blinded by his tricks.
Rather we are free to adopt a position or role that suits us. What
we’re saying is very similar to the strategies a bullfighter uses. In a
bullfight, when the matador confronts the bull, the animal charges
him, thinking that he will stay rooted to the spot. It therefore
charges at full pelt as it tries to gore its opponent. The matador,
however, moves seconds before the horns reach him. He twists
away to one side, almost like a ballerina, repositioning himself and
dodging the animal as it slides, disoriented, under the cloak. It is a
classic manoeuvre that rarely fails.

When someone is habitually bullied, he tends to behave the

same way wherever he is. The victim enters into a kind of trance
where he completely closes off all other possible ways of behaving.
He is paralysed. All he thinks about is protecting himself and his
body against the attacks. There are few opportunities to try new
ways of breaking out of the aggression trap, because, once
attacked, there is no time to think about trying anything new.

78
 That’s how the visualisations are so effective when it comes to
looking at other possible ways of being and training ourselves for
the change. They may not be real, but they go along way to help
you prepare yourself. A visualisation is like a rehearsal for a stage
play. Are all the actors ready, is everything organised and has all
the technical equipment been assembled for the best chance of
success? With the kind of visualisation exercises Huangzu made
me practise, we manage to introduce change into our habitual
behaviour, and so break out of compulsive mind-sets.

However, visualisations cannot be totally effective when come

across those awful anchors that hold us to our past. Our minds take
us directly to what has been hidden in our subconscious. They are
hidden, out of our control, though they exert a powerful influence on
our daily behaviour. The memory of the coal-blackened hands that
my father beat me with was the real reason I felt compelled to fight
those seamen on the Daphnia. This memory, this anchor in my
mind, forced me to fight and gave me no opportunity for changing
what I was doing. In order for the visualisations to be successful, as
Huangzu later pointed out, it was the anchors I had to get rid of to
free myself from the bonds of my past.

As I later learned, the Chinaman had insisted that I visualise

actual scenes where the Liverpudlians and I used to meet for a
fight, for a specific reason. He was seeking to transform how I
perceived the attacks so that I would stop seeing them as a duality,
based on the rivalry between ‘them’ and ‘me’. Huangzu hoped that
in time, through my visualisations, I would manage to establish new
bonds with the men, but bonds without separation, not even the
kind of separation that exists between friends. Ultimately, he
wanted to show me through my practice the mysterious lesson of
Not Two.

Although all this appears complicated, it is actually very simple

when you prove it for yourself. Imagine that you are in front of your
number one enemy. You are standing there opposite him, feeling
all the hate, bitterness and disgust that you have for this person.
This is complete duality. You are facing each other, have no
understanding between you and worse, have no ability to put
yourself in the other’s shoes. Duality pure and simple. In this
situation, there is little room for finding peace. It is heading for only
one thing: confrontation and fight.

Now, imagine that your enemy is standing alongside you,

either on your left or on your right, it doesn’t matter. You are now
looking in the same direction, at a landscape, for example. Imagine
that are commenting on the beauty of the scene you are
contemplating and that you each share your impressions with each
other. You are together, sharing something – a landscape, a
moment. Would you not soon find that a great part of the duality

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you felt before, when you were confronting one another, would
have disappeared? Your apparently irreconcilable differences have
gone. This is only an imaginary repositioning, but do you see how
effective it is to simply change your stance and stand side by side?

This exercise may seem complete madness, but I assure you

that, from my own experience it works. If you reposition yourself
into a place of non-duality with your enemy before an attack, you
will have managed, if not to avoid the confrontation, then to sow the
seeds of peace and tranquillity. Why? Because when you are
standing opposite each other, your hostile feelings and your
willingness to fight bounce between you like a rubber ball,
increasing the likelihood of reaching the point where one of you can
no longer contain the desire to fight. On the other hand, if one
wants to fight but the other repositions his inner self so that he does
not activate the other’s desire for conflict, the violent energy will
dissolve immediately because there is no one to aim it at. That is
the secret of Not Two.

There are various means to avoid a situation of duality. The

first of these is not to take things personally, which we can do if we
understand that the aggressor is a person with psychological and
emotional problems. He hasn’t chosen us for who we are, rather
because he is ill, and his illness consists of attacking whoever
satisfies the minimum requirements for being targeted.

The second one is more difficult, but very effective if we are

honest with ourselves whenever we are prepared and able to use
it: compassion. When we realise that the bully is trapped in his own
prison of violence, it is possible to develop a certain understanding
and compassion that allows us to abandon our defensive, violent
reactions. We can develop a much more conciliatory tone. It is not
impossible. Every hurt person wants someone who is capable of
understanding him, of alleviating his suffering one way or another.

The third one, perhaps a little more difficult than the others if
you don’t really feel it, is to know deep down inside of you that you
and the bully are the same. You are totally and absolutely equal in
everything. You are not different. People who are in a confrontation
generally enlarge their differences, their points of discord, thus
increasing the distance between them. It is much easier to fight
someone who is not like you, not your equal. Therefore, all violent
strategies are designed to show up differences and minimise
similarities. In similarities we find unity and therefore it is impossible
to pick on anyone who is like us. That would be like picking on
ourselves.

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 Chapter 8
Truly a Magic Wand

‘Have you got it now?’ Lika enquired.

‘Yes, I think so. But I still don’t know how I can solve my problem with
Rafa and his gang after reading Red’s advice.’

Lika rose from her seat and looked out of the window. Across the road
there was a playground where the local children hung out during the day. She
could hardly see the swings for the branches of two enormous chestnut trees,
but it looked like the older ones took over at night from what she saw of the
bottles strewn around the grass.

‘The first step, as I said the other day, is to make a decision on how you
are going to position yourself. How do you figure what happened to you? Do
you choose to be a paralysed victim or do you choose to be someone with
resources who can take action? Tell me, Goyo. Which do you choose?’

Goyo looked at Lika in surprise at the question and the tone of her voice
as she urged him to make his choice. ‘It’s not so easy. One part of me feels a
helpless victim, but the other part wants to feel strong and capable of coming
out best,’ he answered as honestly as he could.

‘O.K., that’s a start. At least you have sorted out that you feel two
apparently conflicting emotions. Even so, if you had to choose, which side
would you come down on?’

‘If I had to choose, I’d prefer to feel like someone who is capable of
sorting his problems and not feeling like a defenceless victim.’

‘Good, then stick with that. Make that your choice. You still don’t know
how you’re going to manage it, but you know that you have chosen to be a
resourceful person who can sort problems. The important thing is not how you
are going to achieve it, but that that is how you have decided to feel. That’s
very important in the case of bullying. It greatly determines how the situation
turns out.’

‘How so?’

‘Because if you arrive at a situation thinking beforehand that your

chances of success are small, that pessimism weakens you. It takes your
power away, leaving you little chance of winning. Imagine all of Spain has

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built its hopes up to win the world cup, but everyone, including the footballers,
secretly believes that they will never get beyond the quarter finals. Can you
guess what would happen?’

‘Well, same as always. Total disappointment,’ Goyo affirmed.

‘Exactly. In order to win you have to feel capable of winning. You have to
feel a winner in every fibre of your being, body and mind. Otherwise, although
there is a chance of striking it lucky, you won’t usually manage to achieve
your goal because there are too many internal barriers to your success.’

‘The internal barriers that you’re talking about, are they the anchors that
Red mentioned? Like the coal-black hands causing his problem with the
seamen?’

‘Yes. Anchors to our past can make up part of our internal barriers.
Memories of past situations condition how we deal with similar situations in
the present. It’s like the Spanish national football team never going beyond
the quarterfinals. That becomes a barrier in both the player and the fan’s
minds. We need to cut the anchor in order to free ourselves.’

‘Yes, but how?’ Goyo asked again.

‘The first step is to realise what an anchor is. We can often only free
ourselves of it when we realise that it is there, when we realise that what
happened in our past has nothing at all to do with our present. The anchors
are activated when we unconsciously associate ideas and emotions. They
don’t help us to deal with the problems we are facing in the present at all. In
Red’s case, it was enough for him to discover that the seamen reminded him
of his father to free his anchor. Once he managed to do that, he was able to
see the men such as they were, without projecting onto them the memory of
his father’s violence. That took a lot of the fire out of the situation.’

‘I see it now,’ Goyo murmured absently.

‘What’s up, Goyo?’

‘It’s, well, it’s – although I understand all this, I don’t know if it will help
me with my problems,’ he repeated.

‘Don’t distress yourself, Goyo. You have chosen between feeling

powerless and feeling resourceful. Just keep that choice alive in your mind for
now.’

‘But I’ve been suffering the bullying for a long time, and it always turns
out the same. I always end up being beaten, my self-image is at rock bottom,
people pass me by…. I feel lost and alone. I just can’t take anymore,’ he
sobbed.

‘When do you have to go back to school?’ Lika suddenly asked.

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 Uhhh, well, I don’t really know. I imagine Monday, or Tuesday at the
latest. I haven’t got a fever anymore, so no excuse to stay home,’ the boy
replied, getting more and more worried.

‘Good, we have some time in hand to do a bit of magic,’ she replied

briskly.

‘Magic? Do you think a Harry Potter spell will sort this lot out?’

‘No. Much better than that. SYF’s magic tapping, or MT for short.’

‘SYF’s MT. What on earth are you talking about, Lika?’

‘I would have preferred that Red speak to you about it or that you read in
SYF for yourself, but your anxiety and distress call for a rapid, practical way
out. So this is as good a time as any to tell you about this powerful tool. SYF
chose it because it is one of the best ways to resolve a whole pile of difficult
emotional problems quickly and effectively. (Note: MT is inspired by Emotional
Freedom Techniques, or EFT. You can read about it in the appendix to this
book.)

Mercedes had again glued her ear to the other side of the door,
determined not to miss a word of what they were saying. She was dying to
know how such a young girl was going to help allay the torment her young
son found himself in.

‘Before anything else, you have to have a drink of water. You cannot be
dehydrated when you apply these techniques,’ Lika continued.

Goyo downed two glasses of water in two gulps. He was most intrigued,
deducing that these magic taps could well be the cause of the tremendous
confidence with which Lika related to the world.

‘Stand up, like so, in front of me. All you need to do is repeat the phrases
I am going to say, all the while connecting emotionally to the feelings about
the bullying you have been suffering at school. Connect to all the feelings, but
in such a way that they don’t make you suffer all over again. Just make them
sufficiently vivid so that you are conscious of all that has been happening
throughout these last months with the gang’s attacks. O.K.?’

‘Yes, O.K.’

I am going to apply the magic taps for the general situation, and once
you start to feel better, we shall move on to resolve specific aspects of the
situation. All right?’

‘I don’t know what you are saying exactly, but all right.’

‘Well, you’ll soon find out for yourself.’

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 Before we do anything else, I want you to tell me how much it distresses
you when you think about the bullying in general, on a scale of one to ten.’

‘Well….. I wouldn’t know how to calculate it,’ Goyo replied.

‘You don’t have to be a mathematician to give me a figure. Just imagine

on a scale of one to ten, what degree of distress you feel when you think of
Rafa and co when they are picking on you.’

‘Well then, ten actually.’

‘Good. I am going to tap you with my index and middle fingers on certain
parts of your body. At the same time, I want you to repeat a phrase when I tap
each of these parts. O.K.?’

‘O.K., but you’re not going to touch me anywhere funny, are you?’

‘Haha! No, be at peace. I’ll touch your face, just below your throat, under
the arm and your fingers, that’s all.’

Lika applied little taps to a part of Goyo’s hand below his little finger – the
part of the hand that a karate expect would use to chop a brick in half - while
he repeated the phrase ‘Although I am terribly distressed at the bullying Rafa
and his gang inflict on me, I am a great kid.’

‘Right then, repeat the phrase along with me at each point I tap.’

‘Although I am terribly distressed at the bullying Rafa and his gang inflict
on me, I am a great kid,’ Goyo said again, rather shy about all he was doing.

Looking serious and concentrating hard, Lika applied six or seven magic
taps at several spots on Goyo’s face - each side of the eyes, underneath the
eye, on the chin, under the collar bone, under the arm, the right sides of the
fingers, just below the nails, on the fleshy part of the hand used by karate
experts and on the crown of the head.

That went on for a few minutes. When Lika finished, Goyo breathed a
huge sigh and sketched a big smile on his face.

‘Very good, Goyo. Now, on a scale of one to ten, where are you with
regard to your distress?’

‘Let’s see. Let me think….’

Goyo remained observing his body and state of mind for a few seconds.
He couldn’t move so surprised was he at the power of the technique he had
just experienced. In truth he was feeling a bit dizzy though he felt a huge
sense of relief after Lika’s work.

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 ‘I’d say I was a seven. But now, rather than feeling distressed, I’m
hopping mad.’

‘O.K., let’s see. You felt distressed before, and now you’re mad. This
technique is very subtle and when you apply it you see into the layers of your
emotions. One disappears when it is dealt with, but then another one pops up.
All life’s problems contain a big mixture of emotions and sometimes they form
a big ball we can neither make sense of nor heal. But before we deal with the
anger, I want us to apply another round of MT to reduce the distress to zero.
Then we will treat the other one. Agreed?’

‘You’re the boss, Lika.’

The girl applied another three rounds of MT to reduce his distress to the
minimum. When they had finished, Goyo’s face looked different. All his facial
muscles were relaxed, as well as his shoulders, which up till then had been
stiff and high. Now he was resting peacefully, allowing his arms and spine to
let go of tension. A big smile and a face full of questions looked at Lika in
expectation of immediate enlightenment.

‘Tell me, what is this amazing technique, Lika?’

‘Red learned an old form of this technique from Huangzu, but nowadays
it has moved on, developed from various schools of Chinese medicine and
complementary therapies. It is a revised, modern version of acupuncture
techniques based on the energy lines called meridians in the body. Meridians
are well known and described in a luxury of detail in Traditional Chinese
Medicine. So MT, as Red and I call it, is applied to the end points of thirteen
principal meridians. But this technique doesn’t use needles, only a gentle
touch, to stimulate the points.’

‘Yes, but how does the magic tapping reduce distress, as it did in my
case?’

‘You see, according to this therapy, the cause of all negative emotion is a
blockage in the energy system. Therefore, stimulating the meridians which
conduct the subtle energy through the body while concentrating on the
problem affecting you, helps the energy to flow correctly by releasing the
blocks.’

‘I’m not sure I understand what you’re saying.’

‘Let’s see… You know sometimes when you swear at someone, they get
mad enough to almost kill you, while others scarcely turn a hair?’

‘Yes.’

Well, one possible explanation is that some people, when they hear an
insult for the first time, suffer a block in their energy system, while others
don’t. The ones who react suffer an additional block every time they hear the

85
words. The same thing happens, for example, with someone who is frightened
of water because of something that happened in his childhood. Every time he
tries to go in the sea or swimming pool, he unconsciously relives that first
fear.’

‘And why does this happen to some people and not others?’

‘Because we all have certain tendencies to be blocked at certain times.

Being dehydrated is one cause, being allergic to certain food is another, being
depressed is another…. The why doesn’t really matter. It’s more important to
know that we can do something about it. Isn’t that fantastic?’

‘Great. You reduced my distress to a zero from ten, but I still have
feelings about the whole situation that overwhelm me and I have no idea how
I’m going to face my classmates who think I’m a thief.’ Goyo sighed again.

‘There’s more to do, still. This technique is based on repeating phrases

and tapping and although it seems very simple you can have good or not so
good results according to how you formulate the phrases you use. You need
to hit the nail on the head, as it were, and that requires a certain expertise.
What is it out of the whole bullying situation that gets you hopping mad most?’
Lika asked.

‘My pride is hurt, I feel helpless because some guys succeeded in

humiliating me and I can’t get back at them how I want.’

‘O.K. Let’s do another round of MT. On a scale of one to ten, what is the
level of anger you feel when you think about all this?’

‘Ummm, maybe a seven,’ said Goyo.

‘Say along with me, ‘Although I am furious when these guys humiliate me
because I do not feel able to get back at them, I totally love and approve of
myself.’’

Goyo, however, remained silent. He was not sure he could repeat what
he had just heard. Before Lika could apply the magic taps, two enormous
tears slid down his cheeks.

‘Easy, Goyo. It’s all part of the process. It’s hard to repeat the phrase ‘I
totally love and approve of myself?’’

‘Yes. I just can’t say it.’

‘Fine, let me put it another way, then. ‘Although I am furious when these
guys humiliate me, I will do everything in my power to totally love and accept
myself.’ Is that any easier?’

‘Yes, I think I can say that.’

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 After that round of Magic Tapping, Goyo reduced his level of anger to
one, although he was starting to jump from one emotion to another. He felt
that what overwhelmed him most was being accused of theft and the shame
he felt about going back to school because of it.

This time Lika applied the MT with the following phrases:

‘Although I die of shame when I think others consider me a thief, I totally

accept myself.’

‘Although I am furious because they have unjustly accused me of being a

thief, I know I am innocent and I totally accept myself as I am.

‘Although I don’t know how to confront Rafa and his gang, I deeply
appreciate myself and I feel good about myself.’

‘Although I don’t know why they have chosen to attack me so

relentlessly, I totally accept myself as I am.’

‘Although there are four or five guys who get me down, the school is very
big and there are many others there with whom I can make friends.’

‘Although Rafa thinks I am a piece of shit, I know I’m a great guy.’

When they finished applying various rounds with these phrases, Goyo
fell exhausted onto his bed. But the smile of happiness on his face was like
none other that Lika had seen.

‘Wow! That is incredible,’ he exclaimed. ‘Lika, I feel so much better. Can

I apply the taps for myself?’

‘Absolutely. That’s what it’s about, learning the simple technique and
then you can apply it to any amount of situations in your life, not just bullying.
There are a multitude of difficult emotional situations you can deal with –
goals that are hard to reach, irrational blocks, exams that make you
nervous…. It is a useful technique for a thousand and one things. Did you
know that sportsmen use it to obtain better results? A sportsman’s results are
often linked with his emotions, so therefore the MT can help expand his
horizons and give him a better chance of winning.’

‘Heavens! Can you imagine what would happen if all the footballers, fans
and journalists applied a few rounds of MT during the next world cup? We’d
easily overcome the quarter final barrier,’ cried Goyo, enthusiastic at the
thought.

‘Ha ha ha! Well, yes, Goyo. It’s an excellent idea. We could all learn
some more about this technique and who knows, maybe at the next world cup
we’ll be able to report on its benefits.’

‘That’s a great idea, Lika. Can I treat all my hang-ups with MT?’

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 ‘Absolutely. There are times where it’s difficult to reduce the emotional
hang-ups to zero because you have to find their root causes, the anchors to
our past, but even if you can’t get at them at the beginning, you can apply a
few general rounds of taps. You may not get to the heart of the problem, but
you will at least manage to reduce much of the negativity around a situation or
hang-up.’

‘What do you think will happen when I go back to school tomorrow? How
will I feel after the MT I’ve done today?’ asked Goyo, becoming a little fearful.

‘Well I can’t tell you exactly, Goyo, but I’d say that you have considerably
reduced the tension and nervousness that anyone would logically feel on
going back to school in your situation. It will help you to feel more composed
and have more choices in how to act intelligently, without being carried away
by your emotions. During the next few days, I recommend that you do a few
rounds of MT to bolster your self-esteem. It would be a great help if you took a
pencil and paper and wrote down all you feel about the bullying. Once you
actually see it written down, carry on with the MT rounds until the negative
charge of your feelings is reduced to zero. If you carry on reading SYF, you
will find a chapter there all about Magic Tapping as applied to bullying at
school and suggestions for some phrases you can use. There is a very
important phrase that you have to repeat several times at least, and it’s this
one: ‘Although other people have chosen me as a victim of their bullying, I
forgive and accept myself completely as I am.’’

‘Why is this one so important?’

‘Well, because, although we don’t realise it, we usually feel we are to

blame for the aggression that others take out on us. A part of us feels
responsible for the attacks and we need to rid ourselves of that feeling,
because blame is an emotional trap we often fall into. It is one of the most
powerful anchors, and forgiveness is a master key that frees us from it. My
advice is that whenever you use MT for whatever situation, you look at
possible blame and forgive yourself, just in case.’

‘Lika, you are a bundle of surprises. You amaze me,’ Goyo said
admiringly.

‘Ha ha! You now know my biggest secret. Let’s see how quickly you
overtake me in the art of MT.’

‘Have you used it in lots of situations?’ Goyo was insatiably curious

about the mysteries surrounding his friend.

‘Oh, yes. I applied MT endlessly when those girls were bullying me. I
applied one for each insult they threw at me and I reduced all the emotions to
zero – anger, stress, shame, hurt, humiliation, desperation - all the emotions I
could find when I thought of those girls and the situations they put me in.
When you become more expert in handling this technique you will find that
there is a way to treat situations as if they were on film. It’s a very useful way

88
of dealing with the various emotions that arise in a single situation you want to
sort out. While applying the taps, you can rewind the film if you need to. Then
after several rounds of going over everything that happened in your mind, you
should feel completely free from emotional involvement with it.’

‘I’m not sure I understand. Will you explain it to me?’

‘Imagine that one of your biggest traumas was that you were eating a
doughnut on your way to school and suddenly out of nowhere, your worst
enemies appear. They jeer and call you ‘tub of lard’. The film technique
consists of reliving the scene step by step at the same time as you apply the
magic taps. You can go on repeating phrases that describe each situation, or
simply watch in silence while you tap and concentrate on how you are feeling
inside. However you do it, you always repeat out loud that you totally love and
accept yourself. Use the one to ten scale to find out if you are reducing your
levels of distress, fear, pain, etc. With this technique, you avoid blocking your
energy system again in future similar situations. You may feel hurt at the
name calling, but you will not carry the burden of it for the rest of your life. It
won’t become a hang-up. This technique doesn’t stop you from feeling
negative emotions, but it does reduce their impact and excessive influence on
us.’

‘And if I have a headache, can I still do the taps on myself?’

‘Absolutely. And you can obtain much better results. This technique is
often used to alleviate physical pain when, as it often does, it arises out of
emotional blocks.’

‘Neat, Lika. This is incredible. Thanks a million for teaching me all this.’

‘Yes, it is incredible, especially since it allows you to be in charge of

yourself and offers you a tool to reduce unnecessary tension quickly and
comfortably,’ Lika agreed. ‘Right, I have to go. Carry on reading SYF. I’ll see
you at school Monday, O.K.? Goodness, you look so different!’

‘O.K. Many thanks, wise one,’ Goy smiled back cheekily. ‘Although if I
can have another day off, I’d prefer it.’

Now Goyo felt quite unsettled. However hard he tried to feel the pain he
had been suffering in every fibre of his body these last few days, he could not
manage to find it anywhere. It was as if it had evaporated. Of course he was
still preoccupied because he would soon have to go back to school and deal
with the situation he had left behind, his humiliation and being accused of theft
in front of all his schoolmates. But, even though he knew he had still to find a
way resolving all that, he felt more peaceful than usual. These magic taps had
taken effect and, yet more: they supported the possibility that he could find a

89
cure for any uncomfortable emotion that overcame him. It gave him strength
and he felt more than ever he was a captain in charge of his ship, as the
gardener Red used to say.

Goyo was pleased to know at last one of the secrets for the self-esteem
that radiated from Lika. If she had managed to overcome all those insults her
classmates had hurled at her, why could he not do it for himself? How would
his life be if no insult could ever chip away at him, at his inner being, as had
been happening up till now? How would his life be without the constant fear?
He could not quite imagine it, although he began to savour the delight of
feeling free from the aggression. He looked in surprise and admiration at his
index and middle fingers, smiling at having finally found his own magic wand.

Goyo spent the rest of the day doing the practical exercises from SYF,
sorting out his various emotions and the different situations where he had
been attacked at school. He noted the physical sensations in his body when
he felt insulted and attacked, and applied the MT in order to reduce the levels
of anxiety, fear, anger helplessness and frustration that had been growing in
him before.

At around seven o’clock, Mercedes, his mother, appeared with a tray

holding a glass of milk and a sandwich. Stroking her son’s head, she planted
a kiss on his neck.

‘You’ll be hungry…’

Goyo looked touched at his mother’s concern and unbidden, two large
tears slid down his cheeks. Mercedes’ eyes grew wet too, and the two
hugged each other in silence.

‘Mum, oh, mum…. If you knew….’ Sobbed Goyo.

‘I’m here, son, whenever you find the words to tell me what’s happening.’

Goyo then haltingly told his mother the whole story. He talked to her
about the bullying, about Red and Lika and SYF. For the first time in his life he
was not afraid of being criticised or condemned. He simply opened his heart
to his mother, confident that he was doing the right thing.

Mercedes remained silent, not wanting to interrupt him. She wanted to let
her son sort out the difficult situation he found himself in for himself. She knew
that that would be not only the best way for him to learn, but it would increase
his self-belief at the same time. Even so, it was hard to repress her maternal
instincts, which made her want to cry for vengeance and get the bullies
expelled from school.

‘Did you know that we have real magic wand have in our fingers?’ Goyo
later asked. He looked at his mother with an air of mystery.

‘What do you mean?’ she asked.

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 ‘Lika has taught me an amazing technique, mum. I want to show you it.
Maybe it will help you too…’

Mercedes was able to smile then. She understood that her little wolf cub
had invited her to share his precious secret and although she had sneaked a
listen at the door, she made as if she was all ears. She offered her son one of
the most precious gifts a mother could: letting him learn with an open heart
and mind, without putting on superior airs or swamping his feelings by her
own pride at having given birth to a genius. That is growth with a capital G!

That night brought another surprise to the Martinez family. Goyo had still
not decided if he was going to school the next day or not. He watched his
mother, who appeared calm after Goyo’s magic tapping, putting the last of the
glasses and cutlery into the dishwasher. She was singing a childhood song so
softly he could hardly hear her. Perhaps it was embarrassing for her to
confess that she had always loved to sing. Goyo felt good. He had helped his
mother to learn the technique and that filled him with pride. He breathed more
easily too, knowing his mother did not express any disapproval at the idea of
SYF, nor his friendship with Red and a girl much older than he was. If his
parents had objected, the whole adventure would have had to come to an end
and he would have felt a great sense of loss. Yes, he would go to school the
next day. A growing sense of inner strength overcame him for a few moments,
inspiring him to take charge of his life again. He still did not know how to
confront the problem of what had happened with the theft of the purse, but he
felt at peace. ‘I choose victory. I choose not to be a victim,’ he affirmed to
himself. The words helped him to feel more secure. The two fingers he used
to use to make a pretend pistol when he played he would now use to tap the
energy points. They would make him victorious over his bullies and the effect
they had on him. It seemed a worthwhile exchange, from pistol to magic
wand…

When Goyo turned out the light that night, he felt that he was putting his
life into the mysterious destiny’s unfathomable hands. Following the river of
sleep, he peacefully allowed the land of dreams to overtake him. He felt
serene and confident, knowing that in a way he did not yet understand, all
would come out well. Thus asleep, he felt the warm embrace of harmony and
healing dreams.

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 Chapter 9
Absence

The following day, Goyo arrived at school nervous and full of doubts. He
trailed a scent of fear, distress and uncertainty around with him. ‘Don’t you
dare come near me,’ the terrible air he carried seemed to cry out. On his way
to class he gave himself a few magic taps under his collarbone, which
appeared to help. At least it stopped him from running away screaming. To
the others in his class, though, he looked reasonably composed. And
fortunately for him, the ring of the bell meant there was no time for greetings
or uncomfortable questions. Goyo nevertheless took time to establish that his
worst enemy, Rafa, was absent. That always meant that the gang leader’s
confederates would leave him alone, and that helped him to relax a little.

The first class was French. The multicoloured floral skirt with which
Madame Demailly hid her age and weight floated all over the place as she
nervously wrote French phrases in big letters on the blackboard. Today she
wanted everyone to learn the phrase ‘avoir mal’ and she was determined to
drill it into each and every one of her naughty, inattentive pupils – perhaps in
an attempt to reinforce her own self-esteem as a good teacher.

It was then that her eyes fell on Goyo and instinctively fearing the worst,
he hid from them, sliding his gaze here, there and anywhere but at her.

‘Goyo, why where you absent from school?’ she threw at him in French.

All those who had just passed their French test understood exactly what
Mme Demailly’s was asking, but they needed no test to understand that the
answer could be very interesting. Everyone in the class sat up and looked
round inquisitively at him, eagerly awaiting an explanation for his three days
absence.

‘What…? Er, pourquoi…’ he asked in a trembling voice, the words

scrambling in his mind.

‘Yes, why? Today we are learning about “being absent”.

‘In French?’ he said

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 ‘Well of course. This is our French class and I expect you to speak in
French’, she answered.

This was the last thing Goyo had expected or wanted. Not only had he to
remember all that he had learned in SYF and put it into practice, but also do it
in French! The unhappy teenager began to think there was no way he could
win.

‘Em, ah, a little complicated…’ Goyo said, finally.

‘Well do your best,’ the teacher replied.

‘Me had fever because me accused of rob and me innocent,’ he stuttered

out in pidgin French. He was not sure he had managed to get across what he
meant, that he had had a fever because he had been falsely accused of
robbery.

The silence in the class intensified. Most of them knew what had
happened in the bus park – Rafa accusing Goyo and finding the girl’s purse in
his schoolbag.

‘What are you talking about?’ the teacher persisted.

‘I can’t speak in French, Miss. I had a fever because some boys put a
purse in my bag and then unjustly accused me of taking it. That’s what
happened.’ Goyo’s voice managed to sound reasonably firm.

‘So the reason for your absence from school is an accusation of robbery,
is that correct?’ Mme Demailly kept on, forgetting the lesson in her interest.

‘Oui, Madame.’ Having dared to say the words, Goyo felt a growing
confidence, a feeling of inner strength burst within him.

The classroom had filled with disapproving murmurs. Goyo figured that
half of his classmates considered he was guilty, while the other half did not
know what to believe.

‘Who accused you of robbery?’ the teacher immediately asked.

‘He is absent!’ Goyo replied in French with a bittersweet smile.

‘What a coincidence, we have a great opportunity to learn the word

‘absent’ today.’

‘Yes and there is also an absence of justice in this school, by the way’,
the boy then dared to say.

At that, the teacher decided to settle the matter for the moment. She
would talk to him separately after class about airing his sarcasm.

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 After a typical lecture from a teacher who had no idea about the
seriousness of the situation Goyo had suffered, the boy finally shrugged his
shoulders, raised his eyebrows and took his leave with, ‘It doesn’t matter.
Forget it.’ Though the French teacher was a maternal woman, she was not
strong or courageous when it came to dealing with difficult matters and that
was exactly what Goyo needed at that moment. He did not seem to be having
much luck these days. Out in the corridor his eyes swept around to find the
two people he wanted to talk to most – Red and Lika.

He could find neither hide nor hair of Lika, despite charging round all the
corridors and stairways where she usually sat with her friends. He decided to
try his luck in the gardens, which he hurriedly noted were as resplendent as
ever, no doubt because of Red’s tender care.

‘What a joy to see you, Goyo,’ the gardener said when they collided at a
corner of the main building. Goyo’s head scarcely reached Red’s strong
shoulder, but that did not stop him being swept up in a huge bear hug.

‘Ohhh, Red, what a lot has happened since last time!’ the boy exclaimed.

‘I know. Don’t imagine I was a stranger to your problem. Lika told me

everything. How are you today? It’s very courageous of you to come back to
school and take up your life again. I’m proud of you.’

Goyo gave the gardener a bittersweet smile. ‘I didn’t have much choice,
Red. I had no excuse to stay at home any longer, or I would have done so.’

‘I don’t believe you. I can see by your face that you want to sort out your
bullying problem. You have the V of victory written on your forehead.’

‘Really?’ asked Goyo, delighted at the remark.

‘All the change we desire in life requires us to take a most important

step, and you have already done that.’

‘What’s that, Red?’ He hadn’t a clue what Red was referring to.

‘Made a decision. Nothing in the universe exists without that, and you
have already decided that you have had enough of the abuse. You are tired,
very tired of it, and when someone arrives at that point of weariness, the lion
within all of us awakes.’

‘The lion within us? What’s that? The only lion I’ve got within is the one
that roars in my belly when I am hungry.’

‘Ha ha! Yes, I’m talking about that lion in us too. Our lion is usually half
asleep, because it doesn’t do much more that eat and sleep. It is the lion that
represents our personal motivation and our will. The lion capable of initiating
great changes when a moment of clarity and feeling of strength leads us to
make a firm decision. It is the lion that opens the doors of freedom for you

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when you wake from the dream that held you prisoner. It’s the lion that says,
‘That’s enough, no more, I won’t take anymore.’ Your lion has awakened,
Goyo and it is now sharpening its claws.’

‘Yipes! I don’t know what to say, Red. Sometimes you say some funny
things, things so strange that I don’t really get what you mean.’

‘Of course you understand! All kids understand this language, because it
is the language of your imagination, your inner world. Kids are still aware of
that sacred inner space that adults think they have lost. It is in all of us, but
adults often, sadly, close the door on this mysterious, enchanted, symbolic
place where a tale, a legend or a myth removes the veil of obscurity and lights
up a heart open and eager for understanding. Don’t close your heart to this
language, this world, because it enables you to keep your own heart prepared
and receptive. That’s where your essence, the sacred seed of your being,
resides.’

‘Aye, Red…. But what I need right now is for you to help me sort out this
problem with Rafa. How am I to deal with this accusation of theft?’ Goyo said,
bringing them both back to earth.’

‘I’d happily give you a list of possibilities to choose from, Goyo, but it
won’t help you. You need to find the key to freeing yourself from this bullying
for yourself. I can only provide the ingredients for you to make your own
particular key and find your own solution. I can offer you tools to help you
understand better, to refine your ideas and thus free you from the mind traps
that others have woven for you to fall into. But the rest is in your hands.’

‘Are you trying to tell me that I have to face this danger all by myself?’
asked the disconcerted Goyo.

‘You have come to the point where you have to put into practice all you
have learned in SYF. Believe me, if I were able to do this part of the process
for you, I would, but you have to confront your fears on your own and find a
way of sorting out the situation for yourself. Your parents, your friends, Lika
and I are all here, but it is you who have to take the next steps. We cannot do
it for you. Your freedom depends on what you do now. Do you understand
what I’m saying?’

‘Yes. Unfortunately, I do,’ Goyo replied.

Red put his hands on the boy’s shoulders and with a big smile that filled
the boy of hope and courage, said goodbye.

‘You will manage it, believe me. You have a beautiful and courageous
lion awake within you. It will fight at your side. Let it help you.’

‘Thanks Red. Listen, the bell’s ringing. I’ve got to go. Can I talk with you
if I need to?’ Goyo asked, still a bit scared.

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 ‘Of course you can, whenever you need,’ the gardener threw over his
shoulder as he dragged away some sacks of leaves and twigs he had just cut
from the hedges.

Goyo glanced sideways around him. He looked for any suspicious trace
of his enemies. The courtyard appeared to be deserted, and so he went up to
his class. In a corridor before entering the classroom, he applied a few magic
taps to himself as he repeated ‘Although I am nervous because someone
went and accused me of being a thief, I totally accept myself and I am calm
and relaxed, knowing I am innocent and I have done no one any harm.’

It was just as well he had done the tapping. The history teacher had not
yet arrived in class and some kids, making the most of his absence, decided
to prod Goyo to see what he had to say about the theft accusation.

‘Hey, Goyo, they’re saying around here that you’re going around stealing
girls’ purses. What have you got to say about it?’ Ramon threw at him. His
classmate had up till now kept on the fringe of Goyo’s bullying.

Goyo threw his bag with a thump onto his desk. The noise of the impact
quietened the chatter in the class. No one said a word. Goyo finally broke the
silence.

‘Tell me one thing, Ramon. Have you already decided I’m guilty, or do
you think you would be able to have an open mind about what happened to
me?’ Goyo rolled up his sleeves.

Ramon watched the action and, without realising, took a few steps back.
Goyo took in the fact that the other was feeling intimidated and continued,
'You all think you’re smart, don’t you? You prefer to fawn all over Rafa like
sheep in order to feel safe and avoid his attacks. You’re all cowards, that’s
what you are. You want to know if I stole that purse, eh? Well, you’ll have to
decide that for yourselves. I already know what I have and haven’t done and
I’m at peace with myself. But you lot should be afraid. Now Rafa has done
what he wants with me, perhaps he’ll turn on one of you. So, all you scaredy-
cats, you’d better get together to protect yourselves, but, you know what?
You won’t be able to, because you are all rotten to the core. You can’t tell the
truth when it hits you in the face. You’d rather believe a lie than face Rafa, an
accomplished drop-out who needs to bully others in order to feel powerful. I
can live with what happened to me. Can you lot live with your cowardly fears?
We’ll see, won’t we? You’ll soon have an opportunity to demonstrate just how
courageous you are. I, however, have nothing to prove Rafa has nothing left
he can do to me and now, even though you don’t believe me yet, I am free.
There’s nothing more he can do. What’s left? Beat me up? Send his mates to
steal a girl’s bra and then accuse me of stealing it? Oh, please! How
ridiculous!’

In the class, no one was breathing. They were all holding their breath,
shocked at a Goyo they had never known before. He was talking with a new
vehemence and firmness. Rafa’s allies were cowed and lost without their

96
chief. Even though he did not know how these words had come out of his
mouth, the boy was unloading his fears, sowing the seeds of them throughout
the room. Each one of his classmates experienced the terror as they
instinctively realised that Goyo was indeed free and that maybe now it was
their turn to suffer.

When the history teacher arrived, you could cut the atmosphere with a
knife. There was none of the usual ruckus and witticisms that attended tales
of the cruel medieval wars that plagued Europe. Maybe they were wondering
if they would soon have to undergo something like a Hundred Years War
waged by the cruel and implacable warlord Rafa Pedrera. It was lucky he was
absent today. Everyone, including Goyo, breathed a bit more easily because
of this most happy circumstance.

In the same way that the history teacher’s usual refrain was ‘If
Cleopatra’s nose had been bigger, the history of the world would have
altered,’ Goyo got the impression that if Rafa had not been absent, things
would have taken quite a different turn for him. But now it was done. The Lion
was out of its cage and was roaring loudly. Destiny had delivered its ruling,
and it began with the ‘F’ of Freedom in place of the ‘S’ of Suffering and
Submission to others. Suffering destiny’s arrows or caresses depended on
one thing only, and it began with the letter ‘D’ for Decision. Goyo had decided.
What would the rest do? For the first time in many years, he realised what
other people decided did not matter a jot to him. It was then that he realised,
too, that his breathing was very, very easy.

The teenager took some time to mull over his words, words he had
spoken for the first time without fear or trembling under the weight of bullying.
They had had an impact, not only on his classmates, but also on him. Goyo
had changed, inside and out. Now there would be a before and after marked
by the speech, which was impassioned by his newfound courage. He still felt
some occasional fears assailing him, and some dark thoughts still passed
through the back of his mind, like the tail end of a virus. But they became less
each time and he was able to dissolve them quite easily with his new
understanding.

‘Do you know what I realised when I confronted the whole class?’ he
recounted to Lika when they met again at his house later that day.

‘What?’ she asked

‘It’s amazing, Lika. I realised that I have nothing to lose and that they
could take nothing more away from me. Rafa and his gang have beaten me,
called me names and unjustly accused me. They have lost me friends, my
honour and self-esteem had dropped through the floor, I almost failed the
year, had a problem with a girl I didn’t even know and had no intention of
hurting. They took everything. When I understood that, I felt full of courage. I
knew that Rafa could do no more to me - perhaps call me different names,

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fight me another way, accuse me of stealing something else, but nothing
more. So then I realised that, if I had been able to overcome all that, I could
overcome all the rest as well. It made me see that I was free, that I was no
longer a prisoner of fear and aggression. It also made me realise that I had
never feared Rafa as such, only the idea of what he might do to me. It’s just
like when Huangzu asked Red the question what his biggest fear was and he
answered ‘death’. That’s not true. No one fears death, no one fears
aggression. We fear our idea of death, our idea of aggression, and, as Red
beautifully said in SYF, an idea can be taken up or ditched and it doesn’t
matter, the world will carry on turning just the same.’

‘Goyo, you astonish me. Just look at how much progress you have
made!’ exclaimed Lika. ‘Even so, let me say that you have nothing to lose as
regards your self-esteem and wounded pride, but in a case of bullying, yes,
you have a lot to lose, including your life. We are all obliged to protect our
physical body and to be cautious around those who are unbalanced, since
they can suddenly become violent and commit an attack that has serious
consequences.’

‘What are you trying to tell me, Lika? That it is bad to stop being
frightened of Rafa?’ a puzzled Goyo asked, somewhat disconcerted by the
serious turn of the conversation.

‘I am trying to say lose the fear of the situation, but be respectful and be
careful to act in the best possible way to put yourself out of harm’s way. You
are responsible for your personal safety, and therefore you need to know
when to speak, when to shut up, when to run, when to parry a blow and when
to accept an insult without answering back and so on and so on. It’s a long
list, but time and experience will teach you all that. Don’t drop your guard,
Goyo. You were able to talk eloquently to your classmates, but that does not
mean that you have conquered bullying once and for all. What works in one
situation does not necessarily work in another. Overcoming bullying is a
process that takes time. And since aggression can happen at any time in life,
we never really finish learning about it. So, patience and prudence, friend!’

‘Right,’ the boy grumped, somewhat disappointed by the girl’s serious

reaction.

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 Chapter 10
The Mysteries of Koti-
Koti-Koti

That night, while his parents were arguing over possession of the TV remote
control, and therefore who would choose the programmes they would watch,
Goyo slipped away to his room and carried on his reading of SYF. For days
now he had been wondering what had happened with the young Red’s
adventures on the ship.

Huangzu was right. When I grasped that seeing the hands stained
with black grease was the real trigger for all my aggression towards the
seamen because they reminded me of my father’s hands beating me, I
could let it go. And when I did that, in some mysterious way, the seamen
did too. They behaved as if I had passed a sort of test or initiation, and,
little by little, they began to talk with me. One night they even invited to
play cards with them. You could have knocked me down with a feather.
Huangzu kept smiling at me, amused at how disconcerted I was by the
strange turn of events.

‘You see? Everything is simple when you practice Not Two,’ he

said to me.

‘I don’t know how to thank you for what you have done for me,
Huangzu.’

‘Don’t thank me now. I’m not finished with you yet, but this time it
won’t be me who’s teaching you. Tomorrow, when we dock at Cape
Town, you will disembark and not return aboard the Daphnia – at least,
not for a week. In your cabin you’ll find a sick note saying you have a
high fever, and that will allow you take the week off. You will need that
time for Mama Tembo to initiate you into the mysteries of Koti-Koti, her
village.

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 My head was spinning. I could hardly give credito to what Huangzu
had just said, and as usual he left me feeling baffled and unable to
speak. At a stroke, I found out that I had a high fever, that I would be
thrown off the boat and that a woman, undoubtedly African, would give
me a lesson on I knew not what mysteries of her village. I looked
sideways at Huangzu to see if I could discover even a sniff of a joke. But
no. He looked more serious than the Captain facing a Maritime Police
search. Just as I was about to open my mouth to protest at Huangzu’s
pitiless pronouncement, he put his finger to his own mouth, and shushed
me.

‘Go to bed. Tomorrow will be a very long day. Tell your back to
enjoy the comfort of the springy mattress you sleep on, because
tomorrow you will discover what the Tole Ondulee torment means.
(Note: These are ruts in the ground that look like corrugated roofs. They
are found in many parts of the world and they are a real trial for both
travellers and their car suspensions.)

I was resigned to my fate, since there was no way out. My mattress

and I took refuge in the cabin to enjoy my last night of security and
comfort on board the Daphnia. I took advantage of the chance to sleep
with my mouth open and my legs dangling over the side and eventually
lost myself in the rhythmical snoring of my cabin mates who sounded
more like whales than seamen.

I awoke to the sound of mewing seagulls, which indicated we had

reached harbour. I opened my eyes and saw out of my porthole the
imposing sight of Table Mountain. This mountain, in the shape of a table
surprisingly enough, looms behind Cape Town in South Africa. A
massive amount of cranes were swinging their loads up and down and
the racket all around indicated that the inhabitants of this great port had
been awake for hours already. The frantic hustle and bustle of loading
and unloading the multitude of ships that used the port daily assaulted
my senses. I stirred and yawned, still half asleep and feeling lazy.

After dressing, I went down to the Daphnia’s galley. It was

deserted. There was no trace of my friend and boss. He had probably
gone down to the port to search out provisions for the next stage of the
journey. Next to the hotplate I found a plate of rather burnt toast, a cup
of coffee that was still warm and a note from Huangzu which said:
‘When you disembark, ask for Mister Mze. He will be your guide to Koti-
Koti. Have a safe trip.’ He signed off, ‘You friend Huangzu.’

When I set foot for the first time on African land, I came to realise
just how ambiguous and vague the cook’s note had been. A human tidal
wave bore down on me, shouting in what seemed to me to be at least
three or four different dialects which, with the rest of the surrounding
cacophony, battered my ears. The throng dragged me off the steps and
were pushing me onto terra firma where a travelling market stuffed with
all types of products, smells and colours came into view. I saw and

100
smelled spices from India, fruit and vegetables typical of the region and
the famous fish that were so succulent that they made this place one of
the most prized Western fish markets.

Arms, legs and a lot of human sweat intermingled and

overwhelmed me, without my being able to find the merest trace of
Mister Mze. A curse on Huangzu for having written such a vague note!
So, floating and drifting with the human tide that had swallowed me
whole, I let destiny take me wherever it wanted.

It spat me out finally in front of a small, dirty cafe made out of a sort
of blue asbestos and furnished with old tables and rusty chairs. All the
tables were empty except for one, which was occupied by a tall, thin
man whose age I couldn’t guess at. Wrinkles furrowed his whole body.
His grey eyes never left me as I asked for a coffee and sat down, still
half asleep and trying to gather my thoughts together to decide what to
do. In the absence of Mze, I could always go back to the Daphnia, I
thought.

‘Africa’s like that,’ the other customer finally addressed to me.

When you think you have lost your way, you soon realised that you have
arrived at your destination.’

‘Mister Mze?’ I asked, unable to stop myself from pointing my finger

at him, so surprised I was.

‘You are Red, aren’t you? Never underestimate the precision of a

man who throws knives in the air. Huangzu knew exactly that you would
be eight and a half minutes late getting to this café,’ the man said as he
showed me the time on a huge gold-plated Seiko which he had pushed
up his arm almost to the elbow.

‘Right. I had no idea that my boss was an expert in mass

movement,’ I replied, surprised anew.

‘In that many more things, but, given that he has decided to send
you to Koti-Koti, he must have thought you deserved special treatment,’
the man said as he rose to pay for the two drinks we had drunk.

‘Why? Why do you say that?’ I asked, startled. ‘What is there to

learn at Koti-Koti?’

‘Ahhh, friend… That you must answer for yourself. You have to
experience it. You don’t really want to rush ahead and miss the scenery
on your journey, do you? That only means that you arrive at your
destination exhausted and angry. That’s African wisdom!’

Those words did not please me one jot. Something was telling me
that I would learn a lot, but that I would be sweating hard to find the
nugget of gold I was looking for. But, there was nothing else for it, and

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so I followed closely after Mze who strode rapidly through a labyrinth of
small, covered streets and lanes until we came to an immense car park
on the outskirts of the port. There, after negotiating our way round
innumerable cars, vans, pick ups and buses, we lept into Mze’s heap, an
old, beige jeep, well rusted and dented. It was obvious from the state of
the vehicle that, despite the passage of time, no one had set a hand on
it for repairs.

‘I present Mister Pic.’ Mze flourished a hand towards the jeep. If

you treat him well, he will do the same for you. To start with, you will
need to hold the passenger door closed with your hands. This morning a
nut fell off and I have had no time to get it repaired, so you will have to
help me by holding it while I drive.’

‘How long will that be?’ I asked distractedly.

‘Oh, only about thirty hours,’ Mze answered.

For the second time that morning I accorded Huangzu and his
family their blessings. I bit my lips to hold back the words I was dying to
say, although, truth to tell, my level of English did not give me much
linguistic scope. So for the second time in an hour, I unwillingly went
along with destiny.

I don’t think I slept a wink after we left Cape Town. I opened my

eyes and I suddenly saw we had joined a narrow, sandy road. We were
leaving behind the beautiful green pastures and cultivated fields that
surrounded the port city. The countryside was dry to the point of being
arid, and there were deep, furrowed cracks in the road surface.

‘Where are we?’ I asked.

‘Heading for Koti-Koti, but this road isn’t shown in any map. I’ve
taken a short cut through Sueil Territory.’

‘Sueil? I’ve never heard of it.’

‘That’s because the maps don’t show it either,’ Mze replied with a
teasing smile that left me even more worried.

‘Ri-ight. So how will anyone be able to rescue us if needs be?’

‘Have some confidence, Red. You’re in good hands. After all your
travels the length and breadth of the seas, do you still not know whom to
put your trust in and whom not?’ the old man threw at me.

I remained silent. Mze’s challenging words tired me. It seemed to

me that, whatever I said the old man was ready to make a point of
showing me how wrong I was in my assertions.

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 ‘Got no answer to that, eh?’

I felt his words like a deep sting in my heart. I would have been
happy to hit him, but his advanced age stopped me.

‘Do you often go from Koti-Koti to the city?’ I said, changing the
subject.

‘I am the official driver for Koti-Koti. Once a month I go in search of

the provisions the village needs. Mister Pic is the only car in the whole
region.’

‘Right, so you’re a key person around here?’

‘No more than anybody else,’ he replied acidly.

When I heard his tone, I could contain myself no longer. Holding

the wobbly door firmly in one hand, I turned towards the driver.

‘Listen, have you got a problem with me?’ I exploded gesticulating

with my other free hand.

‘No problem at all, it’s all part of the process. The thirty hours the
journey lasts are necessary for you to let go of the baggage of attitudes
you don’t need any more,’ the old man replied. ‘Take it calmly, we have
plenty time.’

Then I was frightened. Everything, absolutely everything that had

happened to me since I woke up on the ship that morning was swathed
in a mysterious, semi-magical fog. The human tide had carried me
forward to a precise spot and at a precise time to find Mze. Then, after a
mysterious dreamlike sleep had taken hold of me, I awoke in a
countryside quite different to the one I had left in Cape Town. I was
totally disoriented, I was with a man about whom I knew virtually nothing
and who was telling me to trust him. What’s more, I felt he was telling
me that the length of the journey depended on me getting rid of I don’t
know what things. It made no sense whatsoever! I rubbed my eyes to
make sure this wasn’t a nightmare. How had I come to this state of
affairs?

‘Mze, are you telling me that if I get rid of these attitudes, we will
reach Koti-Koti sooner?’ I asked, taken aback.

‘Yes. But even so, we have to make a stop at Tsampa. That’s

obligatory. The rest is up to you.’

‘But what kind of attitudes are you referring to?’ I insisted.

‘Well, when someone is going to learn something as important as

you are doing, you need to prepare your mind and body to receive it. It’s

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not about having half an ear and half an eye open. No. In Koti-Koti, what
will be asked of you is that you be totally and absolutely present in body
and mind. You need to give it your undivided attention, and, above all,
you need to be completely open and trusting. If not, all that you
experience there will only be an empty memory, a mindless experience
which means that the learning will not take root. So you will need to rid
yourself of your distrust and defensiveness, Red.’

I had hardly finished hearing Mze’s words when again I fell into a
deep sleep. Some hours had passed when I finally opened my eyes. My
body was stiff with the effort of holding the door, which still had both
hands fastened on it, shut. Mister Pic had been juddering along for a few
minutes. When I saw the road, it was full of little ripples that were cut
into it and I asked Mze if this was the famous Tole Ondulee.

‘Yes. It’s a pain in the neck, I know. If it bothers you too much, take
a cushion from the back and use it, it will help. We’ll soon be stopping
for a bite to eat.’

I felt more relaxed and less like fighting, so I asked Mze what life
was like in South Africa. At that time in Europe we didn’t know much
about the Apartheid for black Africans, and Mze explained in colourful
detail the atrocities that were committed in the name of racism.
However, he explained, Koti-Koti enjoyed a different way of life, because
it was lost in the middle of nowhere, with a small population and difficult
to reach. Because references to where it was exactly were kept vague,
the village had the reputation of being an apparition, like a sort of African
Eldorado.

A magnificent bird with huge, long claws crossed high above in

front of us and disappeared over the horizon of wild scrub. I let my
imagination fly, fantasising about life in Koti-Koti and the marvellous
secrets hidden there. Will it be full of gold and riches, I wondered? That
brought me back from my spiritual flight of fancy with a bump.

‘Am I the first white to go there?’ I asked suddenly.

The driver looked at me sideways. He took my left arm and turned

it over and back again a few times, as if I were a pancake. He looked at
the colour of my skin, and after a while, pronounced: ‘You’ll be the first
man to step into the village with skin the colour of a baboon’s bum.
Certainly all the laughs will be on you.’

This time I laughed with Mze and for a moment I lost the sensation
that we were circling around an expanse of ground much smaller than it
first looked. Could it be true that the journey would last the time it took to
let go of some attitudes of mine, I thought? Could I speed up the
process myself by changing some aspects of my behaviour? Avoiding
the Tole Ondulee, which was mashing my kidneys, would make the
attempt worthwhile.

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 I didn’t have time to work out what to do. Suddenly, Mze stood on
the brakes as we came to a gigantically high tree. Three men were lying
on the ground, resting in its shade. They were chewing on stalks of
grass. They looked so very relaxed. I supposed that Mze knew them
because he got out of the car and wordlessly threw himself down beside
them. He lay as they did, and took a handful of grass to chew on too.
The four of them had a remote look ion their faces, and their bare feet all
pointed in the same direction, south. I got out of the car, and, leaning on
the bonnet, crossed my arms as I silently observed the group. This was
most strange. No one moved for a few minutes. The silence made me
feel uncomfortable but neither Mze nor the others were in the least bit
bothered. How long did we stay there like that, in total idleness? I could
hear my heart beating, the sound of Mze’s watch ticking away and the
sound of the four men chewing at the grass. Nothing else. Africa made
not a sound, not even a bird flapping its wings.

At least another half hour passed when suddenly, with the same
spontaneity with which we had begun, Mze rose, got into the car,
gunned the motor and drove off without saying goodbye. I didn’t dare
ask him what that all meant, not a word of the lengthy questions forming
in my mind would pass my lips for the rest of the journey, so I shut up
and chewed on some grass too. An idea about this mysterious trip was
beginning to form in my head. Mze had eyed me meaningfully before,
letting me know that I was the kind of person who reacted strongly to
what was being said to me. I had also come to understand, to know that
I was the kind of person who was defensive, defiant and with little
confidence. Now I had also found out that, once aroused, my curiosity
was inexhaustible and I needed a lot of explanations for my head to sort
out what was happening. What if that meeting with the three men had no
special meaning, other than just joining in with them? Being there,
nothing more, sharing a moment or two together…that could make
sense. It seemed that time meant something completely different in
Africa. There was no rush, no limits other than that of the wide horizon.
With that total freedom, why couldn’t men simply be in the moment,
contemplating nature, without needing to be busy? Why did my mind
have to find a reason for everything? Could I not accept and savour the
present moment without needing more, I wondered?

‘Your head keeps spinning, just like Mister Pic,’ Mze said. ‘It is
good to create silent spaces, empty spaces there in order not to
overheat the thinking machine.’

That night, twelve hours into the journey, we reached Koti-Koti.

Mze was smiling from ear to ear, showing those nearest to him his last
four pearly whites. He was visibly satisfied at having managed to bring
me there in record time. He proudly introduced me to each of the
inhabitants who were still awake. A ring of curious people opened up to
reveal a small woman with strong arms and wide hips. She had a scarf
matching her colourful dress tied round her head. In the manner the
others next to her showed respect, there wasn’t a shadow of doubt that

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she was the Headwoman. This was Mama Tembo. Arms open wide, she
crossed the few yards between us and invited me to melt into a big hug,
which I returned.

‘You are welcome to our village,’ she smiled. ‘How’s your bottom
after the journey?’ she immediately inquired, giving me a slap on the
same in front of everyone, who promptly split their sides laughing.

‘Well, if I compare mine with yours, I think I come out worse,’ I

joked, staring at her wide behind.

‘Ha ha! I see that you have a good sense of humour. Those eyes of
yours that are popping out is because of this original bum of the
Hottentot tribe, she said as she slapped her backside.

‘I have never actually heard of it,’ I replied.

‘They say that the Hottentot women can store enough there to last
them in times of hardship. But that’s not true. All it means is that
Hottentot men love fat backsides in their women, that’s all. Come with
me. I will show you the hut where you will be living in during your stay
here.’

The whole village followed us on a torch lit path until we came to a

hut that looked bigger than the others.

‘This is my home. You will sleep in the guestroom,’ she said,

running back a hide curtain roughly hooked onto a tree branch and
inviting me to pass through. Good night and sweet dreams,’ she said as
she left.

That night, in spite of my worrying about sharing a hut with a

woman such as Mama Tembo, the muscles in my bottom eased after
that singular and hectic journey. I quite easily collapsed into bed.

Very early the following day, I woke to the sound of murmuring. I

pricked up my ears and made out the voices Mama Tembo and Mze
having a big discussion. Perhaps Mze was giving her some message
from her old friend Huangzu, because when she brought me a warm
drink in a glass, she said, ‘We think a lot of Huangzu in this village. He
did a lot for us when we founded it, ten years ago. Come, follow me. I’ll
show you round Koti-Koti as I tell you about its origins.’

I finished gulping the sweet herbal potion and came out of the hut.
Once outside, the enveloping sun blinded me at first, until I could finally
make out the woman’s squat and wide silhouette. Mama Tembo took my
arm and for the next two hours led me around at a brisk pace as she
showed me each and every corner of the African village.

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 As far as I could make out, the huts were made of adobe. The roofs
were straw and twigs interlaced with rope, and a central post in the main
room supported the whole structure. Each hut contained a small fire
and an oven hollowed out in the ground where they toasted some cereal
that the women had ground for hours at the front of the entrance.
Everything looked normal. The village looked like any common African
village, perhaps a little more picturesque than some and less cluttered
with the detritus of modern society. Modernity was at a minimum here.
Some scissors, a first aid kit, some T-shirts with moth-eaten collars, an
old English newspaper, a baseball cap advertising a fizzy drink, food
tins, some tools, and not much more.

But there was something there that I couldn’t quite identify, but
which nevertheless indicated that I was in no ordinary village. I was
trying to figure out what it was, but didn’t get anywhere. I walked around,
hands in pockets, next to Mama Tembo, looking left and right and
examining everything I could. My boots were getting whiter as I kicked
up the dust with each inquisitive step.

‘Come, we’ll go and sit beneath the old baobab tree. This tree,’ said
Mama Tembo as she caressed its trunk, ‘has witnessed the tremendous
transformation of Koti-Koti during these last few years. Maybe instead of
me it should be the tree telling you what happened here, but since you
need to hear the words, I’ll do my best. The reason for your being here
with us is that your friend and boss, Huangzu, wants you to know our
story. There is a message in it for you and yours.’

We sat under the impressive tree. Its trunk was wide and its
branches short and leafy. You could feel its powerful presence and the
living strength that emanated from it. It gave no hint of how much it had
witnessed of whole generations of history and drama lived beside it.
Mama Tembo crossed her legs, smoothed out the wrinkles in her dress
and, with a far-away look in her eyes, began her tale.

‘Before anything else, I need to tell you that Koti-Koti hasn’t always
been called thus and that its name is closely related to the story I’m
going to tell you. Years ago, our village was simply called Koti. Its name
now, Koti-Koti, is a reminder for us never to return to the time when we
were tragically divided in the past. It also reminds us that, in spite of
what happened, we now know the key that will keep us united. We are
no longer Koti, a simple African village. We are Koti-Koti, a village that
was one, became divided and was finally reunited. We are a village that
has grown and matured together thanks to all our efforts; a village that
has survived The Big Test. Few communities in this country or any other
have managed it, believe me.’

‘What happened?’ I was intrigued.

‘Patience. Everything began about twenty years ago. Our sacred

tradition, as you will see for yourself over the next few days, is to

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worship Mother Earth, because we understand that it is she who feeds
and sustains us daily. We have all put our faith in her for the past
hundred years and will continue to do so. One of the sacred spirits we
worship most is the antelope, an animal that reminds us of the loving
bounty that comes from Mother Earth. We have always conducted
ceremonies in its honour and respect its pastures, so allowing this
sacred animal to live among us as the free spirit it is. We do not interfere
with its life in any way. It was always this way until, one day, back in the
time after your great world war, the white hunters began to come. They
talked with the young of the village and tempted them into showing them
where they could find antelopes to shoot. Greed, my friend Red, is a
lethal poison! That caused civil war in the village. The old ones totally
opposed the whites and barred the youngsters from all contact with
them. But, as you know, the presence of outsiders in an isolated village
moving at its own rate of progress always means a big shake up for the
natives.’

‘That’s for sure,’ I agreed. ‘When the new comes along, nothing can
be the same as before.’

‘That’s exactly what the white men said to a group of the more
rebellious youngsters who were less disposed to obeying the elders,’
said the Chief. ‘In exchange for new clothes, a drink that they had never
tasted before and some modern utensils, the youngsters began to serve
as guides for the hunt.’

‘What could the elders do about that?’ I asked.

‘The elders got together with some of the young and the adults to
train them to protect at least the most sacred antelope grounds at Mount
Aras. They mounted guard and watched the area day and night. They
had orders to shoot their arrows at any prowling hunter. But things did
not stay like that. The whites not only brought harmful things, as the
elders had predicted, they also brought good things that would be very
helpful to the villagers, like modern medicines. However, the elders, out
of fear of losing the traditional way of life, closed the door to all of it and
banned any contact whatsoever with the outsiders. There was nothing
anyone could do. Koti would remain untouched by change, while the rest
of Africa succumbed to it.’

‘So how did most of the villagers react?’

Mama Tembo picked up a twig from the ground and continued her
explanation with illustrations drawn in the sand.

‘Soon the village was divided into those who supported the elders’
advice and those who wished for more contact with outsiders in order to
make use of the benefits they brought.’

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 ‘OK, but you’re not telling me anything new, Mama Tembo,’ I
interrupted again. ‘These things happened in my country too, in the most
remote, forgotten villages of Spain. There too, there were pockets of
resistance to the modern way, and with reason. The whites are not to
blame for everything, you know?’

‘Don’t take things so personally, Red. The hunters were only the
trigger for what happened in Koti. We as inhabitants of Koti were
responsible for our own response to their arrival. And that was the
problem. We could not deal with it as a united village. But let me carry
on with the story of what happened,’ said the old woman, still breathing
deeply at the recollection of the past events.

‘In the middle of all that ferment, Kule went into labour. She was
such a beautiful girl that she married young one of the most handsome
boys in the village, Ganu. He was one of the neighbours captivated by
the white men. He and a group of others had surreptitiously carried on
their collaboration with the outsiders and had visited their encampments
a half-day’s walk from here. That tragic day, there were complications
with Kule’s labour. The baby seemed to be tangled up in the umbilical
cord and the poor mother had been working hard for many hours in
order to give birth. Ganu was half mad from watching the life of his wife
and child slipping out of his hands. He ran to the elders for advice, his
hands full of his wife’s blood, and implored them to let him bring a white
witch to the village, a doctor who would perhaps be more capable of
helping than the local midwives. But the elders, backed by a great
number of their neighbours, refused to listen. That night, Kule and her
baby died as their desperate family looked on. Ganu believed that the
elders had wanted to punish him with his wife’s murder for his
collaboration with the whites, although he knew deep down it couldn’t be
so. The man was drowning in his hate, bitterness and thirst for
vengeance. He would not hear those, me included, who tried to
convince him that it was not a punishment. Anger and pain blinded him
as he waited for the right moment to slip into the hut of Gembe, the head
of the council, one night. The following morning, we woke up with the
weight of an assassination on our shoulders and a rebellion in our midst.
Ganu and a group of men and women who did not agree with the
council of elders abandoned the village and founded another one that
they would also name Koti.

‘Two Kotis?’ I exclaimed.

‘Yes. Those friends and neighbours who abandoned us thought it

was us who were being unfaithful to the spirit of the village, since our
closed minds had brought about the death of a member of their group,
so they claimed the name of Koti for their own. From then on, and for
many years after, the two villages lived in a state of war. Whenever we
met each other, whether it was going to the river for water or hunting, we
ended up hurling stones and name-calling. Several of our neighbours

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died being stoned this way, and so even more tension and hate
mounted in our little isolated community.

‘And what happened to the white hunters?’ I asked.

‘The antelopes are highly intelligent animals. They soon got the
idea that the village had stopped being their home and just disappeared.
They never came back. When they disappeared, the white hunters did
too and left us alone, a village driven by hate and bitterness. On top of
that, it stopped raining and our land became dry, turning the fields
barren. We walked among them, sowing anger into the cracked earth
and forgetting that Mother Earth was telling us we had to change our
course.

‘Right. I am sorry that that happened to you. In the Spanish

villages, when things reach that point, it is better to up sticks and go,
because nothing good will grow when things have come to such a pass,’
I said, remembering hundreds of stories where the valleys of my land
had been strewn with similar pain and misfortune. ‘How did you manage
to resolve it?’

‘Come, follow me,’ said the woman as she got up. ‘I’m going to
show you something.’

‘Some two hundred yards from the baobab stood a hut that was
somewhat bigger than the others. From the ringing sound of metal
within, I guessed it was the village smithy. Inside, the fire in the forge
housed the pieces of iron that a large, corpulent man of around forty was
waiting to heat up and work with. When he saw the Headwoman, he left
his chores and rushed to usher us into a somewhat smaller room, where
he invited us to sit down.’

‘Mama Tembo, my house is your house,’ he smiled.

‘Thank you, my son. Tell your lively young wife not to hide herself
away and invite us to have a drink,’ she teased.

The man went running out of the room and told his wife, who also
came as fast as she could with three children hanging on to her skirt.
Everyone sat down with us, forming a circle around a table roughly hewn
out of wood. I breathed with excited anticipation.

‘This is my new friend Red. He comes from Spain,’ Mama Tambo

then said, indicating me with her hand. ‘Red, may I present Ganu and
his wife Ama?’

For a moment I was unable to make a sound. I didn’t know what to

do. Was this the same Ganu, the man responsible for the war in Koti? I
looked at Mama Tembo, who nodded her head.

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 ‘Welcome, Red,’ Ganu smiled. ‘My house is your house. Come
whenever you want to eat a nice plate of biltong, our dried salt meat.’

We had an agreeable time with Ganu and his family. I kept looking
at him, but I could find no trace of pain and suffering, no suggestion of
hate and vengefulness. Not one. There was no sign of any of it in this
man. He had the look of a happy, contented man who lived life to the
full.

‘Ama,’ said Mama Tembo to me as we left the house, ‘is the

daughter of Gembe, the old Headman of Koti. Although you won’t
believe it, the marriage wasn’t arranged in order to bring an end to
conflict. No. Ganu and Ama had already forgiven each other in their
hearts when love visited them.’

‘If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed it. How is it possible for
the wounds to have healed this way?’

‘You’ll find out the answer tomorrow. I have things to do this

afternoon and so I can’t be with you. Go home, there’s a delicious meal
waiting there for you,’ she said.

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 Chapter 11
Bibilok

I had the whole afternoon in front of me to discover what was so

mysterious about Koti-Koti, so I began to explore the village. I set off, my
stomach still bursting after an exquisite bobotie, the South African
version of a meat and potato pie.

‘How are you, Son of Cheetah,’ hailed one neighbour to another as

they crossed the main street.

‘Very well, Pleasure Seeker! Come to my house later and help me

with the roof, will you? It’s come loose after the last storm,’ answered the
other man, whose walk reminded me of an African monkey’s thanks to
his swinging arms.

‘Do you need my help?’ I immediately volunteered.

‘Sure, we could always use a hand, even if it comes from a white-

baboon-bum,’ shouted Son of Cheetah, showing me his last tooth.

I began to laugh. There was no reason to feel offended by such a

remark, especially since it came from the other son-of -a-monkey. In
Koti-Koti it was clear that nicknames, as well as wittily describing how
each person looked, had a certain ring that didn’t appear insulting.

Son of Cheetah lived on the outskirts of the village. He had chosen

that spot a bit apart from the other huts because he preferred to wake up
quietly, since, as he told me, he had been brought up in the bosom of a
very noisy family.

There were five neighbours and me fixing the friendly, smiling

man’s roof. As we worked away, he supplied us with innumerable drinks
and cakes made by his wife, a beautiful, tall woman who was a
descendent of the Zulus. We spent the afternoon laughing and joking. At
nightfall, when I went back to Mama Tembo’s hut, I had a big smile on
my face, though I did not realise it until the Headwoman laughingly
pinched the dimples in my cheeks. For a long time I had not really
enjoyed the company of other human beings. I was used to being
challenged, criticised, bullied or attacked by my fellow men. Although I

112
still had not discovered its secret, I began to feel the effects of Koti-Koti’s
mystery. The tribe guarded the secret well and there was no doubt that it
had contributed to the pleasant atmosphere in the village.

The following day, Mama Tembo led me along a path I hadn’t taken
the day before to the centre of the village.

‘Let me tell you what happened after the war between brothers that
devastated us for several years,’ the headwoman said as we continued
on our way. ‘As you will remember, my village was divided in two and
eaten up with so many bad feelings. The drought had established itself
within us as well as externally and the animals that up until then had
been so good to us had abandoned us to our fate. We had no food to
sustain us, and we had become desperate. Some of our neighbours left
for the big city, so putting an end to the grand dreams we had all
believed in. We had no future. We were broken. It was at that moment of
total devastation that Majaru came down from her mountain.

‘Who is Majaru?’ I interrupted.

Majaru is a hermit. She has long hair, dresses in rags and carries a
big stick. Over time the inhabitants of this and other regions came
consider her a saint. All of us worship and value her wisdom. On more
than one occasion she has helped us in crucial moments like this one
I’m telling you about. One fine day Majaru came down from her
mountain and came to talk with those of us who were still sensible
enough to listen. She promised us that, if we wanted, the spirit of the
antelope would return to our lands. To do that, we would need to build a
Bibilok, a special enclosure in the very centre of Koti expressly designed
to resolve our conflicts. For a week, Majaru listened to all the venom we
had stored up for each other pour out of our mouths. After that, she
taught us how to prepare the Bibilok and trained up some of us as
guardians of that sacred space. We are still using the Bibilok to this day,
some ten years after it was set up. It is built in the very heart of the
village and we can go there whenever we feel any emotions weighing on
us heavily enough to prevent us from living in peace and harmony with
ourselves and each other. Then, we just pick up our bedroll and march
off to the Bibilok where we stay long enough to work through to the inner
transformation that will bring us back to our natural state of peace, love
and joy.

‘So how does the system work?’ I asked.

The philosophy behind the Bibilok is simple. Our bodies have an

intelligence that protects us, and one of the instruments it uses to
communicate with us is our emotions. When they arise we can feel them
and so become conscious of the message they are sending. That
message is a true one, as it arises from the depths of our being. We are
so used to hiding emotions that are neither socially convenient nor
acceptable. We are taught to fear them. But if we manage to be honest

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with ourselves and listen to their message, we can find a reason and
therefore a remedy for them. And using the remedy frees us. It is a
shame that human beings the world over fear their emotions and
therefore shy away from them, unaware that they are our allies in the
same way our physical body is. We do not realise they are merely
symptoms that give us vital information when something is happening
with us. When we ignore our emotions we are actually driving the cause
of the problem deeper, hiding it so that we cannot see our truths clearly.
We lose sight of our real feelings and the reason for them. If we do not
listen to our emotions, they fight back and torment us for the rest of our
lives. We either deny what is actually happening to us, which brings its
own set of problems, or we try to suffocate them with alcohol or other
drugs.’

‘And why do you think we are frightened of our emotions, Mama

Tembo?’

‘Because our parents and teachers are generally frightened of

theirs. No one has taught us about them and so instead of listening to
uncomfortable emotions, we usually feel guilty about them. Sometimes
we displace our emotions and point the finger at such and such a person
whom we blame for our suffering. Sometimes we are too young to
defend ourselves from an injustice, so our emotions have nowhere to go
but inwards. Sometimes those around us make us close up in order to
maintain a false sense of peace and not make them feel uncomfortable.

‘Hypocrisy?’

‘Well, yes. It is a form of hypocrisy, in families and in the wider

social circles, caused by a fear of emotions.’

‘And do you think that all Koti’s problems were due to this? What
did Majaru do to resolve all the conflicts that beset you?’ I asked,
pressing for information.

‘Majaru suspected that fear of feelings was at the root of our

discord. She knew how far people in a village will go to maintain an
illusion of peace – they will go all the way to extinction. That’s why it was
established that, inside the biblok, everyone would be equal. We all had
to accept that within the enclosure a person would be considered free of
family hierarchies, free of friendships or enmities. In the Bibilok there are
no fathers, mothers, children, husbands, wives, grandchildren, friends or
enemies. There are only people. Problems dealt with there stay there.
They are not brought back outside to be debated by the family, so that
the young ones are not scared to speak up. Majaru was trying to free us,
at least temporarily, from our attachments and fears, or power
relationships that arise within families or between groups of people. I say
that means we are more willing to confront our truths, without fear of
harming other members of the family or suffering the disapproval of a
mother, a brother, or a cousin.

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 ‘But how can putting family or friendships aside resolve things?’

‘The Bibilok is a special, caring, secure place where every person

hurt by his emotions is able to look deep inside himself with the help of
others who know how to listen with love, respect and understanding.
They help him to find the cause of the emotions that provoke such pain
in themselves, and others too when they lash out unnecessarily. The
Bibilok is a place to find out the truth about ourselves. It permits us to
experiment with our emotions and understand their reasons. It is a place
that requires a certain amount of courage, of wanting to know what our
real feelings and emotions are so that we do not go through life lying to
ourselves. We hide our pain, separate mind and body and close our
hearts to our inner wisdom because of this self-imposed tyranny.’

‘And how do you find this inner truth? And more important still, what
happens when ones truth collides with another’s?’

‘We find our truth simply by following the path of our emotions. And
going back into our past to look for causes that can be hidden in the
memories of the child we once were. The majority of problems we have
been confronted with in the Bibilok are related to childhood and the
mistreatment we received then from those nearest to us. One person’s
truth does not collide with another’s when both recognise the right of the
other to feel hurt and pained by something that happened. However,
after this basic mutual recognition, it is helpful for both to search for
methods where they can live in peace with each other, without returning
to old ways.’

‘But what can someone’s childhood have to do with the fights you
had in Koti later with the white hunters and the division of the village?’ I
asked confused.

‘Few families encourage their children to express their true

emotions, because they were not allowed to express theirs when they
were little either. Unexpressed negative emotions are therefore locked
inside, where they infect our relationships with others as we grow older.
We are emotionally blind, if you like. Since we are not able to express
our emotions in an environment where they are discouraged, we
harbour whatever the feelings are - blame, violence, fear and frustration
- and store them in our bodies. Emotions that are socially unacceptable
burst out on the first occasion we loosen the reins, and generally the
most innocent people are the ones who pay for our repressed violence.
Guna assumed that the Headman had not allowed the white doctors to
come into the village to punish him for having infringed the rules and
going to hunt our sacred animal with them. There was no clear
emotional communication between them, and that provoked the war.
Every one of us then began to assume what the others were thinking
instead of talking it out peacefully. We could not deal with our hurts and
the effort of repressing them finally exploded into an uncontrolled war. It
was out of all proportion.’

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 I kept silent. Mama Tembo’s words were getting dangerously near
to my own childhood, and I want to keep those memories hidden, well
packed away in the depths of my being. She must have noticed my
increasing discomfort, but she ignored it and continued: ‘The Bibilok
philosophy is that every one of us can free ourselves of negative
emotions. If someone has insulted you and you feel bitter, angry or sad
because of it, you have the ability to heal yourself. You have to take
responsibility for your reactions and those feelings you carry inside and
search for their true origin. The bibilok philosophy is that you have every
right to feel the way you do, since there is never any badness in that in
itself, but it should not become a trap you cannot get out of. If you feel
trapped in an emotion and do not wish to search within yourself, it
paralyses you and provokes conflict, especially with yourself and then
within your family, friends and neighbours. You have to do something;
you have to ‘bibilok’. The whole village had to do that, look deep within
its heart for the cause of its civil war.’

‘What does to ‘bibilok’ mean?’ I then asked, prompting the woman

who had sunk into her own thoughts.

‘To ‘bibilok’ is what Huangzu wanted you to learn from us. He says
that you will be a great mariner one day if you decide to continue in the
profession that is, but that you know nothing at all about navigating the
other waters that most definitely affect you deeply – the waters of your
emotions. ‘To bibilok’ means that once we have discovered what our
true emotions and feelings are, we will know how to take responsibility
for them and navigate emotional waters like fish do. We replace one
emotion with another until we are able to reach our natural way of being,
that is, being happy. To ‘bibilok’ also means that during the whole
process you are loving and accepting yourself as you allow yourself to
experience what you really feel, each and every one of the emotions that
grows within you, without blame. There is nothing bad in feeling irritated,
angry furious, sad or hurt. No one can or ought to condemn you for
feeling what you feel, although if you identify with those emotions and
believe that you are irritation, anger, rage, hatred and bitterness, then
you are trapped by it. Majaru designed the Bibilok precisely for that, to
help us escape these traps, these emotional prisons.’

‘Do you belief that if someone insults or attacks us, we are to blame
because our own emotions are at the root of the attack?’ I asked,
remembering Huangzu’s advice.

‘No. Being responsible for what happens inside yourself is never

about blame. Taking responsibility means that when someone insults or
attacks you, you always have the ability to take your power and make
inner changes, so that you are never a victim of circumstances. You are
a lion, and you have to rule in your own kingdom,’ the woman affirmed,
fixing her fiery eyes on mine, ‘and in order to rule in your own kingdom,
you have to find your truth. If you lie to yourself, others will rule you.
More than one civilisation has been destroyed precisely in this way,

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because its citizens stopped being in charge of their inner selves and let
others occupy that space. They handed their personal power, their
commanding voice and their truths to others, and were destroyed. Do
not let this happen to you, Red.’

I meditated on her words in silence for the rest of the walk. I just
knew she was right.

The sandy path, with little leafy lanes leading off it, that we had
taken to arrive at the centre of the village ended abruptly at the entrance
to a walled enclosure. I had not visited it during my walks the day before.
An enormous wooden door exhibited a sign that in Nama language said:
‘EVERYTHING YOU BRING TO THE BIBILOK MUST REMAIN HERE.’
Since I had nothing in my pockets, I felt easy.

A smiling woman of about thirty, with a baby on her back, opened

the door for us. The interior of that place was similar to a bullring, with
the exception that in the centre of the arena stood some huts.

‘Come, follow me. I want you to see something,’ said Mama

Tembo.

I followed the headwoman inside one of the huts. The small edifice
was in darkness and it took me some time to make out the silhouette of
some men squatting, their arms crossed and resting on their legs. They
all looked a bit sloppy to me. Their gaze was lost in some spot on the
ground.

‘This man, to your right, is Nozgue. He’s been trapped for two years
now by rage and anger. He doesn’t want to let them go.’

‘Why is he in this state? What happened to him?’ I asked, fearing

that I would hear something really dreadful.’

‘His wife enjoyed sharing her bed with other men and became
pregnant by one of them. Nozgue could not bear so much pain and
humiliation. He has remained enclosed in the Bibilok for two years, and
doesn’t want to come out. He is our most serious case, but this is a real
problem that affects many people in the outside world who are not able
to recognise that they are trapped in a prison of their anger, hate and
bitterness. These prisons are impenetrable enough to stop us from
triumphing over them. We are unable to move on and recapture our lost
happiness because they keep us paralysed and frozen. The basic
emotion solidifies so that we feel we cannot escape it. On the contrary,
we feel obliged to feed it daily, and we are so identified with it that we
believe we are that rage, that hate, that bitterness. That is the most
outrageous thing that can happen to us. We think we are whatever
emotion has seized us and we will defend its presence body and soul,
because we believe we will die without it. We have identified so much

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with it that we think that if it disappears, we too will disappear. Therefore
we cling on to them as if they were life boats.’

‘I can feel my hair stand on end when you say that, Mama Tembo,’
I said.

‘Mine too, would you believe it? But these emotional prisons affect
us all in different degrees and often are so subtle that we spend our lives
happily thinking that we are free of these prisons when we really aren’t.
We keep our feelings, the fruits of our pain, asleep within us, so we are
not really able to sort out whether we are really happy or merely
surviving.’

‘So how are you helping Nozgue?’

‘First of all, we are creating an environment of love, understanding

and acceptance around him. There is no criticism or condemnation of
him, so that he can express his feelings freely. But it’s hard work getting
him out of the prison he has made for himself,’ the headwoman
admitted. ‘Even so, we are confident that we can help him move little by
little to get him out of his personal block.’

Mama Tembo pulled me away by my t-shirt and led me out of the

hut. Without saying a word, she bade me to sit cross-legged in a circle of
people. She sat by my side. In the centre of the circle was a young
woman in a state of apathy, tumbling some stones. The members of the
circle were shouting at her, calling her all sorts of names and some even
stopped to laugh at her. Others threw banana skins at her.

‘Monkey butt!’

‘Cheetah piss!’

‘God, you’re ugly! Who’d marry you?’

‘Your hide’s uglier than the baboon that dared to enter Bambague’s
kitchen and left with a frying pan branded on its backside!’

I watched the woman’s face the whole time. It seemed she was
taking great pains to repress her emotions. When I heard the last insult,
enormous white teeth suddenly appeared between her thick lips and the
young woman finally burst into peals of laughter, which made all the
others laugh too. For a few minutes they all split their sides as they
laughed uncontrollably, showing how liberating a laugh can really be.

‘That’s fine,’ said Mama Tembo as she broke up the circle. It’s clear
that you are absolutely cured, Nabile. They come to the Bibilok to laugh
at your shadow whenever you need it, but in the village you stride
around, proud of your young body. It’s important to remember not to
take things so personally.’

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 The headwoman watched Nabile trot happily away to the exit.
Then, turning towards me, she pinched my behind and winked at me.
We went arm in arm to the other end of the enclosure and entered
another hut. About eight people there were squatting around a fire that lit
the face of a man who looked depressed. All those in the circle were
talking at the same time, making a plaintive noise that was impossible
for me to understand until Mama Tembo translated again for me.

‘Ohhh, how unfortunate I am! The sun came out a little later today.
That’s a bad omen,’ one was saying.’

‘Imagine it, my sister came right by my house and didn’t even greet
me. Woe is me!’ another chimed in.

‘Your problems are nothing compared to mine. I always wanted to

be the boss man, and in this village there is a boss woman only – Mama
Tembo,’ said another as he looked sideways at her.

‘Bah! That’s nothing! Imagine, every morning I miss breakfast

because I can’t get up in time,’ added yet another.

The man to whom all these moans and laments were directed
towards remained silently listening. I felt that something inside him was
changing with each utterance, even though it was difficult to make out
exactly what, since he did not have a very expressive face. We left the
hut.

‘We call that where I come from ‘curing someone with boredom,’ I
said.

‘That’s for sure. There are those who lose their perspective of
themselves so much that to begin opening them up to their true
emotions, they need shock treatment. And what better way than to give
them a dose of their own poison to enable them to realise what they are
doing to themselves and their loved ones every day,’ the headwoman
replied.

I looked around the Bibilok and saw people who, during the
morning had been helping out others who needed it, were getting ready
to go. I asked if that was part of the plan.

‘Majaru gave us a great variety of techniques. After helping the

people who are living here temporarily, we leave to let them digest and
integrate all they have learned in the practical sessions. We shall return
tomorrow,’ she said to me, indicating the others with her hand as we
headed for the exit.

When we reached the threshold of the large entrance, just as we

were about to cross it, Mama Tembo turned to me and fixed her eyes on
mine. For a few interminable seconds, a great many images passed

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from her eyes to mine. I felt as if I already knew this woman before
coming to Africa, as if my whole life had been dreamt out in a far off
cave and was now passing before my eyes. I could make out that one
day I would write a book about Koti Koti and that all the experiences in
my life would be woven by an invisible thread, uniting each chapter of
my existence into a multicoloured tapestry that would make sense of all I
had lived. I could see my past and my future in that fleeting glance from
the wise woman and when the intensity finally dissipated, the visions
went on sweeping through my retina until they disappeared into the
mists of my memory.

‘No, Red, you are not coming with me,’ said Mama Tembo then,
placing her right hand on my heart to stop me. ‘You have to stay in the
Bibilok.’

‘Why, what’s happening?’ I asked, brought down with a bump from

the experience and frightened of seeing myself suddenly forced to stay
in this place.

‘Do you remember the notice at the entrance to the enclosure? It

says: ‘Everything that you bring to the Bibilok has to stay here.’’

‘Yes, of course I do,’ I said, taking my hands out of my pockets,

‘and I brought nothing with me, Mama Tembo, I swear!’ I exclaimed.

Those eyes turned on me again and spoke silently. I understood

that the notice was not directed at anyone who brought anything
material to the Bibilok, but at those who brought a burden, an invisible
suitcase laden with emotions that were difficult to accept and deal with.
Mama Tembo turned her eyes onto me again to tell me that I had to face
my truth and look into the contents of the suitcase that I had carried
around with me for years. That suitcase, however, had not wanted me to
find it and accept it as my own. She hugged me and gently pushed me
inside the Bibilok. I remained there, in silence, watching the big door
close creating an enormous shadow that fell on me. I felt a prisoner and
my heart began to tighten.

I stood there for a few seconds, with my back to the Bibilok, trying
to calm my nerves and compose myself. I dried the unexpected, silent
tears that sprang from my eyes with the sleeves of my t-shirt. Slowly, I
turned round to face the circular plaza. And then I saw it.

***

‘Goyo! Goyo!’ his mother suddenly shouted. Goyo started in of his seat,
and in his fright double clicked the mouse to close the programme.

‘What do you want, mum?’ he called back, rather irritated at the abrupt
intrusion when he was at such an interesting moment in Red’s story.

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 ‘Are you alive or dead, son? You’ve been studying all morning in your
room and I am wondering if you are still with us or perhaps you have
disappeared?’

‘I’m fine, mum, don’t worry.’

‘Then come and set the table. Now. Your father will be home shortly and
he’ll be hungry. You know how grumpy he gets when his stomach rumbles.
His language gets ripe and he treats us like slaves,’ called Mercedes as she
climbed the stairs.

‘Seriously though, are you all right?’ she stressed meaningfully as she
opened the door and gazed fondly at her eldest child.

‘Of course, mum, I’m fine,’ sighed Goyo, now engulfed in his mother’s
arms.

‘Ohhh, I love you, I love you, I love you. You know that, don’t you?’ she
nuzzled.

‘Mu-um! Leave me be! Of course I do!’ he exclaimed, wriggling out of

her suffocating embrace.

‘Goodness, how tetchy you are,’ his mother replied as she smoothed her
now rumpled blouse and skirt down. ‘Come on, help me set the table.’

Eating, endless eating. Spoon up, spoon down. Silence broken by some
comment, though mostly each person eating was lost in his own rambling
thoughts. At that table, that Tuesday, a holiday, all you could see was four
distracted bodies, each one caught up in contemplation. It was easy to guess
what Goyo, what Mercedes and Juan, Goyo’s father were thinking about. But
little Laura? What could she be concentrating on so much that her spoon
slipped through her fingers and clattered onto the floor? Some toy, perhaps?
Or was she simply imitating her elders?

Goyo finished eating and cleared the table without protest. He turned the
coffee machine on and made the coffee his parents used to drink after every
meal. He cleaned the table top with a blue cloth and when, finally, the kitchen
was half decent, he quickly slipped away to his room. He closed the door and
breathed a sigh. Alone at last! Now he could carry on with SYF! He was really
caught up in Red’s African adventure. Stories of far countries fascinated him,
and, forgetting that only a few days ago he wanted to be a martial arts expert,
today promised himself to find a profession that would allow him to travel as
much as Red had. He was dying to know what it was that had appeared in
the centre of the Bibilok at the precise moment Red turned round after the
doors closed. Goyo made a few guesses, but he did not want to wait any
longer to find out, so he turned the computer on again and waited for the SYF
disk to open. He read avidly:

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 There it was, in the middle of the square, appearing out of
nowhere as if by magic: a leather chest like the ones travellers in
the nineteen hundreds used, when they did the grand tour in trains
and carriages of old. I rubbed my eyes. Mama Tembo’s words had
gone completely out of my head and I was left there quite alone,
facing the unknown. I approached the chest, fearful of getting
closer, I decided to sit down beside it and think a bit more about all
that had just happened to me.

There I found myself, at that very moment - a crucial one, I felt

– sent by Huangzu into the heart of an isolated part of Africa, for
the purpose of my emotional health. I was a prisoner, albeit
temporarily, in a walled enclosure where I had to confront some
heavy burden, which, according to the village headwoman, was
suffocating me and stopping me from living a happy life. A heavy
burden I did not recognise and which, nevertheless, seemed to be
symbolically represented in a chest that had suddenly arisen, that
very moment, in front of me. Without doubt that would be a part of
the Bibilok process and one of Majaru’s techniques, I thought.

‘Open the chest right now and get it over and done with,’ a
voice inside my head said. I listened to its distress. It was calling to
me from the depths of my being to put an end to all this. ‘Why the
hurry?’ I wondered.

‘Open it and let’s get out of here,’ the voice insisted.

I went up to the chest and caressed it with my fingers, running

them over each and everyone of the grooves caused by wear and
tear. As I did that, a tumult of emotions overwhelmed me and I saw
myself brutally dragged into the deepest recesses of my mind to
the places I wanted so much to forget. My mother was preparing
dinner. She had her back to me but I could feel her anguish as she
anticipated that soon, through that old scratched wooden door, her
husband Esteban would enter. That man’s presence alone was
enough to terrorise us all, especially when he had brandy or whisky
on his breath. The door opened, not once but a hundred times, and
I could see in the space of a few minutes each and every one of the
scenes of my childhood that frightened me so much. I saw my
father’s hands raised a thousand and one times to my mother, to
me, my brothers and sisters and how, after beating us all with all
his strength and might, I was left lost in darkness, totally blind and
disoriented.

I wanted to take my hand away from the chest but something

stopped me from doing so. I had difficulty breathing; I was
suffocating in my distress. My eyes, that were almost popping out
of my head with the visions, were glued to the chest and I was
unable to tear them away from it. I stood as if I were spellbound.
Still plunged in the darkness caused by my father’s aggression, I

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went from deepest fear to the most uncontrollable rage. My
stomach felt as if it was filled with fire, a fire that invaded my whole
being, boiling my blood and pushing me to kick and fight everything
around me. I felt like a rabid, caged wild animal. Again I tried to lift
my hands from the chest, but they were still stuck there, anchoring
me my memories.

Then something unexpected happened. The images changed

into a scene that I did not remember, because it hadn’t happened
to me. I saw my father, much younger and healthier looking,
walking towards the coalmines. I saw how each day he queued for
work and how often they turned him away, how he came home
empty handed to my pregnant mother who was ill in bed, miserably
cursing his lot. Then I felt his anguish and desperation and how he
went off in silence along the path in the woods. He then came to
the town, where the owner of a bar offered him a nip. I saw him
drink without pleasure, trying to appease with each mouthful of
booze the huge pain he felt when he saw his family’s suffering. My
heart softened. For the first time in my life I could see my father
with other eyes. Even so, something inside me continued to rebel
against the violence our family suffered. There could be no excuse
for it! His family were not to blame for the difficulty he had finding
work. There was no justification at all for that violence. Yet
something within me had changed. I saw my father more as a
victim now. There was a larger picture of exploitation, misery and
ignorance that beset my country and many others in the world, I felt
suddenly at peace and my breathing calmed down. My father was
trapped as I had been, a prisoner not only of his actions, but also of
his past and his ignorance. He was incapable of finding any other
solutions to the old ills of his past.

My fingers were still glued to the chest as if I were still

receiving information from a magical object. A feeling of
understanding and love was now growing in my heart and I began
to sob desperately. There was no cure for what I had experienced.
There was no solution. The past would always be the horrible past.
What could I do to avoid such pain? I cried disconsolately until, at
last, my eyes managed to move away from the hypnotic chest and,
as if directed by someone else who was not me, fixed on the sand,
where I could read in my language the word, ‘Forgive.’

I resisted forgiving my father. Forgiving him would be like

giving in and betraying myself. It would be like acknowledging that
it is possible to commit wrongs that would not be punished, since
they arose out of other injustices that were not punished either. So
what about the rights of the victims? I refused to forgive. And at
that moment, I started to feel a weight on my back, as if I were
carrying a heavy burden. I turned and saw that it was the chest.
Without my realising it, it had disappeared from view and was now
stuck on my back, crushing me with its great weight. Does that

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mean that in order to free myself from this burden, I need to forgive
my father, I wondered? No answer, nothing. The silence and the
weight were my sole reply.

I felt paralysed. Now it was well and truly stuck to me. I

looked around me to see if I could see anyone in the Bibilok willing
to help me with the chest, which was now really starting to hurt.
Then I noticed that, over there in the shade of one of the huts, there
was a little old man in a loincloth sitting with his legs crossed and
looking in my direction.

‘Get this thing off my back!’ I shouted.

The old man seemed to look at me very carefully, while at the

same time he began to trace lines in the ground with a stick.

‘I propose a trade. I will take the chest off you in exchange for
your eyes,’ he said and I noticed that vacant, impenetrable look of
the blind.

‘What did you say?’ I asked, scarcely believing what I had

heard.

‘Your eyes for the chest,’ he repeated.

‘How am I going to give you my eyes? Are you mad?’ I asked.

‘You neither use nor know how to use your eyes, so, why
would you want to keep them? I’m proposing a fair exchange.’

‘Why do you say I don’t use my eyes?’ I asked, becoming

more and more irritated with the old man.

‘You haven’t even read the word you have written in front of
you properly.’

I looked again and saw: ‘Forgive yourself.’

My heart did a somersault. Of course! I was not forgiving

myself!

I closed my eyes and fell on my knees. The chest was again

in front of me, and though my back had stopped hurting, I felt a
pressure in my hands drawing me irresistibly toward the container.
When I touched it, I was yet again transported into my past to relive
all those emotions I neither wanted nor accepted. So how was I not
forgiving myself? I asked myself.

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 ‘It is very difficult to forgive and accept yourself when you feel
you have failed yourself and your loved ones, don’t you think?’ the
old man then asked. I could almost feel his eyes staring at me.

Those words made me go even further inside and through a

dark tunnel that ended in my bedroom, that cold little hutch whose
wallpaper had faded with age and dirt. I used to share it with my
three younger brothers. I was sitting on a stool obsessively kicking
one of its wooden legs. I looked lost. I saw my face marked with
bruises, full of hate and bitterness and my fists clenched. I felt a
great pain and longed to hug the boy I once was. Suddenly, I
understood that this hate and bitterness that I had felt in my heart
for so many years, stopping me from being happy, was not only
directed towards my father for having abused us, but also towards
myself for not having defended myself, my mother and brothers. I
was torturing myself with the cruel reproaches I had heard used on
me, in her desperation, by my mother!

I burst into tears as I finally understood that a child in those

days could do little or nothing against a grown up. The tears bathed
my whole being and I felt that, in some magical way, the
understanding was reaching the child that lived then and was still
alive within me. I cried and cried. I cried all the rivers of the world,
which washed over every part of me, bathing my wounds and
smoothing away every harsh, summary judgement I had
pronounced on myself - without benefit of any defence lawyer. I
had forgiven myself! I had finally forgiven myself! The
compartments of my interior world opened, and finally my hands
could separate from the chest.

When I opened my eyes, I saw that the padlock that had kept
the chest closed up till that moment was open. I found the old man
was standing in front of me, leaning on a stick. His face expectant,
he said, ‘Are we swapping then? Are you giving me your eyes in
exchange for my taking the chest and freeing you from its weight?’

I smiled. I smiled firmly and confidently.

‘No. No I don’t accept your swap. I will not give you the chest.
I want to see what’s inside it,’ I replied.

The old man smiled. ‘Then open it. You have earned it. The
chest will never again weigh you down. There’s only one thing left
to do,’ he said.

I didn’t hear his last words. I had opened the chest and the
light within it had surged out and eclipsed everything else.

125
 Chapter 12
The Big Wheel

Goyo thumped the table with his fist. The computer shook and some
papers shot up and scattered over the desk. ‘I can’t believe the way this has
turned out!’ he exclaimed. His finger clicked and clicked on the mouse as he
moved the cursor over the rest of the SYF programme. He searched for an
explanation. Nothing. Red had left him wanting more, yet again. He promised
himself that he would corner the gardener at school and grill him. What was in
the chest, he wondered a hundred and one times during that evening until,
exhausted, he fell into bed.

Since Goyo had met Red and Lika and had been studying SYF, he had
been getting up 15 minutes earlier than he usually did. For some weeks now
Goyo had been doing the exercises they had recommended. He was getting
to like them, since they left him feeling powerful and physically in control
during the whole day. The sphere exercise, or the seven dragons, was
without doubt helping to increase his confidence. He felt that in some way the
circular movements forming a sphere around him and his deep breathing
were helping him to connect to the well of his personal power. Bending his
knees seemed to be strengthening his legs, making them more flexible, more
capable of carrying his weight and generally he felt better about life.

He continued to use the Magic Tapping, one of the best tools he had in
his kitbag, to dissolve all the uncomfortable feelings that had beaten him down
so much before. Goyo had followed Lika’s advice and had applied the magic
taps to all the insults Rafa and his fellow bullies used to hassle him with.

But Goyo had gone much further than Lika and SYF, and had designed
some phrases that he added to each set of taps, with the aim of never
forgetting how Rafa had attacked him and how he had been trapped by his
mind games. He repeated to himself several times throughout the day, in
order to fix it firmly in his mind: ‘Although Rafa keeps on attacking me, I have
no reason to believe his mind games and I am free to act in my own best
interests.’

Goyo knew from his own experience that, if they attacked him again, the
immediacy of the situation and the surprise factor would make it very difficult
to remember all that SYF had taught him, and that was why he continued with
the magic taps. He was determined that the next time they attacked him, it
would be different. For the same reason, at night in bed the teenager spent
some minutes doing visualisations where he acted differently with Rafa and
his gang. He was making great progress with the visualisations, since a new

126
confidence was growing within him, the confidence of someone who was in
charge of himself and able to act without fear.

If some of the old feelings about Rafa came back occasionally, he used
his new knowledge about bullies and the tricks they used on order not to be
fooled or impressed by them. But above all, SYF had helped him to get rid of
his guilt and low self-esteem, feelings which in the past had stopped him from
thinking and acting when he was bullied. Now, inside himself, Goyo had taken
responsibility for his own the feelings and let go of feeling responsible for
feelings that rightfully belonged to others. He had finally understood that these
attacks were not his responsibility, that they would have happened without
him, and although he had been a victim, that was due to circumstances alone.
Rafa and co had to confront the consequences of their actions, not him.

That morning, in the break between two classes, the teenager bumped
into Patricia. When they met face to face, the encounter did not catch him
entirely by surprise.

‘Patricia, I need to talk with you,’ he said to her, holding her arm.

‘Let me go. We have nothing to talk about,’ was her reply.

‘I think we do. We have a lot to talk about. Rafa and his gang have
trapped you just as much as me, but for different reasons.’

‘What… what do you mean?’ asked the girl as she looked at him for the
first time.

Goyo took Patricia’s arm again and led her away from the hustle and
bustle around the stairway. In a quieter corridor, he continued: ‘I did not steal
your purse, I swear. They set a trap for me. Someone must have taken it from
your bag and put it in mine. The day it happened, I was in the maths class
when Javi called me from the room with the excuse that someone wanted me,
but when I stuck my head out of the door, there was no one there. That’s
when they must have stuck your purse in my bag.’

‘Why would they do anything like that?’ asked Patricia.

‘They’ve been bothering me for the whole year, and they mustn’t have
liked it when you gave me a couple of kisses after the football. It looks like
Rafa has intentions towards you. Didn’t you know?’

Patricia avoided his inquisitive look and smiled bashfully.

‘I’m really sorry for everything that has gone on, Patricia. Truly.’

The girl sighed. She seemed really overcome, and that surprised Goyo.

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 ‘What are you going to do? The whole school thinks that it was you,’ she
said, finally.

‘I don’t know. The important thing is that you know the truth. That’s
enough for me. I can’t control what the others think of me, and I don’t even
need to explain myself to them, but I thought you should know, since they
were messing around with you, too.’

‘It’s awful, disgusting!’ the girl burst out.

‘So… you believe me?’ Goyo ventured.

Patricia stood for a moment, looking into the distance. She twisted and
untwisted a drawstring attacked to her schoolbag. ‘Yes. I think you are right.
Rafa tried to kill two birds with one stone. Last year, my brother was bullied by
a boy just like him, and unfortunately, I know their kind of tricks very well.’

‘Seriously…? Oh, look, I’m sorry. How is your brother? Has he been able
to get over it?’

‘He’s getting there. My parents are thinking about sending him to a

psychologist,’ replied Patricia with a catch in her voice.

‘Heck, that’s awful, Patricia. I’m very sorry.’ Goyo sincerely felt for the
other boy.

‘Don’t worry, you have your problems too. If you need me for anything,
you know where to find me,’ she said, picking her bag up from the ground.

‘Thanks. You have no idea how much I appreciate what you’ve done,’
said Goyo.

While he went away with a lighter heart, Patricia stayed a while longer in
the corridor. She tried to get her head round what Goyo had just told her. It
was then she remembered that, when she thanked Rafa for having uncovered
the supposed theft of her purse, an uncomfortable feeling with no apparent
cause had weighed on her. Now the reason for that feeling was clear. She
promised herself that from now on she would pay more attention to that type
of intuition.

Rafa continued to be absent and that favoured Goyo more and more.
Each minute in school and each contact he had with others was proving that
something decisive had changed within him, and he felt that most of the pupils
now supported him. There were a few who dared to confront him directly
about the affair of the purse and those ones preferred to keep their opinions to
themselves. Even though they were not all with him and some still doubted his
honesty, that meant less and less to the boy. He felt sure of himself and in his

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own class he felt able to conquer Rafa’s mates, in the absence of their leader,
with a mere look

Hands in pockets, bag slung across his shoulder, he strolled into his
history class whistling a tune. The Hundred Years’ War, teacher’s favourite
topic, was an oppressing subject, with too many weighty explanations. It felt
like nothing else had ever happened in the course of the whole of the Middle
Ages except killing each other, a lot of them thought.

Goyo enjoyed the lesson for the first time in many months. He practised
the art of paying attention to his breathing and realised that his ability to listen
and observe had much improved, doubtless because he did not now feel
nervous or intimidated by his classmates. Now he understood Red’s words,
the ones where he said no insult could stick whenever someone had worked
on himself and resolved inner his conflict. He remembered the names they
called him and was delighted to feel nothing. He knew he was on the right
path with his inner work. What a messed up gang of bullies had to say
mattered little to him now. Strength and confidence surged through him,
dissolving his fears and past insecurities. He felt strong and in charge as he
walked with firmness on the earth.

‘Isn’t that so, Goyo?’ the teacher suddenly directed at him, bringing him
out of his daydream. ‘Maybe you can tell us which two European kings started
what we now call the Hundred Years’ War…?’

‘It was between Edward of England and Philippe of France,’ Goyo

enthusiastically replied, cheered to discover that in spite of everything, his
memory was working better than ever.

‘You’ve had a lucky escape, Senor Martinez. But please pay more
attention in class. It is obvious you are not with us,’ the teacher advised. ‘Even
so, your answer was not quite precise. They were Edward III and the Valois
Philippe IV.’

‘And when are we going to study Joan of Arc?’ Goyo cheekily asked.

‘At the end of the hundred years,’ answered the teacher, who then
continued the lesson.

Goyo smiled bitterly. The answer was very like the ones he got every
time from Red and SYF. Everything that excited his curiosity was relegated to
an obscure, indeterminate ‘later’. He promised himself he would not wait a
hundred years to find the information he wanted, either about Joan of Arc or
Red and his adventures.

This time he had a hard time finding Red. He finally tracked him down in
the car park where he was helping to unload a lorry with feed and fertiliser for
his precious plants.

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 ‘What was in the chest?’ he lanced at him.

‘And a very good day to you, Goyo,’ the gardener, smiling hugely,
replied.

‘Tell me! I can’t bear it any longer.’ Goyo’s voice was getting higher.

‘Before answering that question, you have to answer one first. What did
you make of the African adventure?’ The gardener dropped a sack of fertiliser
on the ground.

‘That’s not fair! I asked you first!’, the boy complained.

‘Asking first does not mean that you are dealing with things in the right
order. Before telling you what was in the chest, I have to know what you have
understood about the whole journey through Africa.’

Lika appeared just then. She leaped toward them and came to sit on the
edge of the pavement. ‘Hey boys! What are you up to?’

‘Your uncle does not want to tell me how he finished his African
adventure,’ Goyo moaned.

‘And your friend does not want to tell me what he understood from all my
tales. How can I explain what I found in the chest if he doesn’t tell me first
what he knows,’ Red replied.

‘I see. Deadlock. Typical men!’ Lika laughed.

‘And how would girls resolve it?’ Goyo and Red asked in unison.

‘Simple. When the girls have their most secret meetings in the toilets and
we find ourselves with the same problem, the first to speak is always the one
who has the biggest Tampax in her bag.’

‘What?!!!’ The two men’s faces were a picture.

‘You don’t have much imagination, do you? Toss for it, that’s all I mean!’
she explained.

‘Out of the question,’ said Red, hoisting a sack of twenty kilos of compost
onto his back.

Goyo watched the gardener and knew that if he persisted in his

determination to know what was in the chest first, his sole reply would be
Red’s disapproving silence, and so, very much despite himself, he accepted
his defeat.

‘All right, I’ll tell you what I understood about your journey to Koti Koti,’ he
said, finally giving in.

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 ‘I’m all ears, kid.’ The gardener put the sack back on the ground and sat
himself next to his niece on the edge of the pavement. Goyo remained
standing, and, looking up towards the sky to remember what he had read,
began his account.

‘Huangzu understood that you needed things to be explained another

way, and he decided that an African woman and her village would be just right
for you. There you discovered not only the history of the place and how they
resolved their conflicts, but also you had your own heavy baggage that
weighed you down, due to the things you experienced in your childhood. You
were carrying emotions that you either did not know or want to know you were
carrying, because of the pain they caused you back then. In the Bibilok you
could confront you’re your past, and thanks to that, discover what the chest
contained. It did not contain as much horrors as you imagined it did. I was left
with the sentence that a blinding light came out of the chest. That’s it.’

‘Perfect, you summarised it perfectly, Goyo. But you haven’t finished

telling me what was so vital about the learning the experience in Koti Koti, and
what helped me, Lika and will also help you and many others. Do you know
what it is?’ Red insisted.

‘Emm… that we do not have any reason to fear our emotions. That we
have to discover what our true feelings and emotions are when things happen
in our lives so that we don’t lie to ourselves. Also that we ought to able to feel
these emotions so that they don’t bury themselves in us and create
complexes and traumas that we carry into the future and shape our lives. Also
that we ought not to ignore our feelings and emotions for fear that what we
feel harms others as well. First of all we need to recognise our true feelings
and then resolve our conflicts with others, but always from that place where
we recognise our true feelings…. Is that what you are referring to?’

Red and Lika were smiling. The gardener raised his arm towards his
niece. ‘High five, Lika! Mission accomplished!’

‘Mission accomplished, uncle!’

‘Yes, yes, you give each other high fives, but now, tell me! What the hell
was in the chest?’

‘Shall I tell him?’ the gardener smiled teasingly at his accomplice.

‘I don’t know. I don’t know,’ she replied, laughing.

‘I can’t take anymore! I can’t stand either one of you! If you leave me like
this, I swear I will never speak to either of you again!’ yelled Goyo. He was
beside himself.

The school head suddenly appeared with papers for Red to sign, and
they all sat up, ending the conversation. Lika and Goyo slipped away, and just
then the bell rang.

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 Irritated by this new setback, Goyo ran upstairs to his class. In the
corridor, all the room doors were already shut in preparation for the start of
lessons. There was not a soul around until, suddenly far away at the end of
the corridor, he saw a familiar looking figure. Goyo had to go to that end to get
to his class, and as he strode forward, he focused his eyes to make out the
silhouette more clearly. It had its back to him and remained completely still.

After less than ten yards, Goyo recognised who it was. The trousers
hanging fashionably low, the legs bowed like a cowboy. There was no doubt
at all. It was him, Rafa.

‘You’re a shit, Rafa, you know,’ Goyo called out as he approached his
old enemy. ‘You don’t frighten me. Nothing you can do affects me in the
least. I have only one question for you. What pleasure do you get from all
this?’ Goyo had now reached Rafa.

What he saw when he turned to look at his attacker’s profile left him
speechless.

Rafa turned slowly, not because that was what he did naturally, but
because every bone in his body seemed to hurt him terribly. After a few long
seconds he stood facing Goyo. And when he did, Goyo was horrified by the
vision before him. Rafa was totally disfigured, his face full of bruises and dried
blood and there were several scabs that were beginning to scar. His whole
face was covered with wounds and scratches of some description.

‘What happened to you?’ Goyo exclaimed, appalled.

Rafa’s upper lip was swollen and the boy could talk only mumble.
‘Home…. Father….’

Goyo went cold. The look in Rafa’s face was something else. He was
disoriented and had real panic in his eyes. Some tears slid down his face,
making his open sores burn. He hung his head and stayed there, in front of
Goyo, totally overcome.

‘Do you want to go into class? What are you going to do? Have you
reported your father?’ Rafa had transmitted his nervousness to Goyo in
seconds.

‘No…. I don’t know what to do,’ Rafa replied. He was completely lost.

‘Come on, I’ll take you to see a friend,’ said Goyo finally.

The two walked very slowly, shoulder to shoulder and taking special care
going down the stairs, since the groans and whimpers Rafa emitted showed
how difficult it was for him.

The school gardens were deserted, so Goyo could easily locate Red’s
blue cap above one of the bushes. ‘Red, Red! Look what’s happened.’

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 ‘What’s happened?’ Red asked, immediately recognising the hooligan
who had bullied Goyo throughout the year.

‘I couldn’t make out what he said clearly, but I think he said it was his
father.’

Rafa nodded, trembling in front of the gardener.

‘Be at peace, boy, be at peace… I’m not going to do anything to you.

Let’s get you to the infirmary. Goyo, go to your class. I’ll take over here.’

Goyo, still moved by what he had seen, walked slowly back to his class.

‘Goyo!’ Red shouted after him before he disappeared with Rafa from the
other end of the garden. ‘Remember, life takes many turns, just like a big
wheel. Do you remember what I said when you asked what a B.B. meant?
Well, now you know… By the way, you still have one more chapter of SYF to
read. Maybe you’ll find what you’re looking for there...’

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 Chapter 13
The Chest

The appearance of Rafa and the visible signs of his ill-treatment caused
a commotion throughout the whole school. Goyo was stunned, since all the
visualisations he had done to protect himself from Rafa seemed to have been
unnnecessary, given the state he was now in.

Javi, Jorge and Miguel kept quietly out of it, not even going near the
infirmary to find out how their leader was faring. The teachers took advantage
of the situation, using it as an example so that they were all informed about
the warning signs, the effects and how to react if they were victims
themselves. That should have been a happy day for Goyo, since it marked his
freedom from Rafa’s clutches, but it wasn’t. The knowledge that every victim
could become a bully in the blink of an eye weighed on him, and he promised
himself that his experience as victim of bullying at school would never swing
over to the opposite side.

That night, wanting to forget the high state of tension at school and with
a certain sense of gravity, Goyo started up the SYF programme from the disc
Red and Lika had given him only a few weeks before. He guessed he was
nearing the end of Red’s final fascinating adventure, an adventure he had
immersed himself as reader, witness and hero. An adventure that had swept
him up and plumbed the very depths of his being, his darkest emotions and
taken him all the way to Africa, to a village that was impossible to find.

Red, Lika, SYF, Huangzu, Mze and Mister Pic, Mama Tembo, Guna and
the wise Majaru formed part of his existence. Each one brought their own
message, their own particular essence, a new vision of reality and a new
understanding from a different take on life. Goyo felt totally transformed by the
experience. But in spite of the changes, he noted that he also felt more
himself, more centred in his being, more grounded, and for the first time in
ages, free of the fears and hang-ups that beset him in the past.

There was only one thing that had not changed in the course of these
last few weeks. It was just a little flaw although it seemed it was incurable, and
that was his insatiable curiosity. So, leaving aside his contemplations, he
yielded to his craving to know how SYF ended. He opened the programme,
sighed and read, quenching his thirst for knowledge yet again.

If you have reached this point, dear reader, you have

doubtless done it because of your terrible trials, innumerable fears,
countless doubts and lonely torments. There were moments when
you doubted yourself, not knowing how to act, what to do, what to

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think and what to believe. There were moments when the ground
you walked on turned into slippery mud so that there was no firm
ground beneath you. You had no base, no point of reference, no
support in your life. You did not even know how you were going to
carry on living, your whole universe was in crisis, your ship adrift,
your captain lost in an inner storm.

But know with absolute certainty that you are a courageous

explorer. Feel proud of yourself because you have travelled where
few have ever dared to go in the whole of their lives. Here you are,
breathing to the rhythm of the pleasant waves of your calm interior
sea, but know too that while you are in this calm place now, there
will be other moments of crisis and devastation, other moments
when you seem to be lost and directionless. Yes, there will, they
will happen again. There’s no point in deceiving ourselves. The sea
is like that, sometimes calm, sometimes stormy.

But you need also to know that, in spite of these ups and
downs in your personal environment, your personal history and
your personal relationships, it will always be possible for you to
observe what is happening with you. You can observe it not just
from the epicentre of the storm, but also from the solid base that
you have been building throughout the whole of this process that
began when you were attacked by bullies and signalled your defeat
when you unconsciously began to respond to and believe their
mind games. From the time you declared you could no longer bear
the pain, you began the process of transforming and freeing
yourself. When you started to find answers, maybe in the form of
this computer disk or some other form, sometimes with the help of
others who have suffered the same kind of treatment and
sometimes with your own determination, you found you could break
away from aggression and see more clearly.

Now you know that answers come to those who dare to ask,
that the vision of those who are brave enough to scrutinise the
horizon improves, that freedom comes to those who stop fearing it.
Now you know that you are free in spite of everything, and that
includes yourself and your doubts, any new fears or new attacks.
Now you have a mountain existing within you that you already
know how to climb whenever you need to retake the path with
vision and clarity.

A blinding light overcame me when I opened the chest. I was

drowning in its brilliance and I felt I was melting into the eternal
embrace of someone who had risen from the bottom of that old
case. I felt full, complete, at one with something that formed a part
of myself and that I had never before been able to feel. He and I
remained a long while, embracing each other thus, until finally the

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light vanished and, for a small, seemingly eternal instant, I could
see who that other being with whom I had been united was. It was
myself! My own self, smiling at me as no one had ever before
had smiled at me, with a look of such deep love and understanding.

I burst into tears, comprehending that for all those years I had
turned my back on myself, on my deep inner being. I understood
that the aggression that I had suffered at my father’s hands, the
person I should have been able to trust, had overwhelmed me with
such confusion that I had come to blame myself for all that
happened and so I turned my back on myself. I had walked without
shade, without neither base nor roots, adrift. How many
unfortunates who have suffered attacks by others walk like this?
Perhaps even You, the one whom is reading this disk?

Huangzu and Mama Tembo had seen this terrible split within
me and, each in his own way, had set me back on my inner path -
just as I have done with you through SYF, gently inviting you to
dare to look inside your own private chest, your own painful burden,
which, as it was separated from you, you had to carry on your back.
Never be afraid to look inside yourself because, although you think
all you will find will be words of reproach and feelings of blame, the
reality is quite different.

You will find a friend, your best friend, this being who, if you
allow him, will always be at your side from now on, supporting you
each moment, lifting you and feeding you, loving you, respecting
you and protecting you. This being, which is your true essence, is
your real refuge, your fount of inner power, the fount of love from
which you can drink whenever you need. If you accept this essence
of who you are, you will never again be alone. I promise you. You
will finally be complete.

SYF now takes its leave of you, not saying goodbye, but
rather au revoir. The disk must change hands. The time has come
to finish with these words that the elder in the Bibilok proffered and
which were not heard: The time has come to share this experience
with others.

And never forget that, whatever happens, you carry these

seed-words engraved on your heart: ‘YOU CAN SET YOURSELF
FREE!’

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 Magic Tapping For Bullying At School

The Magic tapping in SYF is based on EFT (Emotional Freedom

Technique), which in turn is based on the science of acupuncture and the
stimulation of the meridians through which the body’s subtle energy flows.
This is one of the many tools chosen in SYF to help you overcome not just the
effects of bullying at school but your habitual reactions beforehand, because
we believe that in transforming these, you will eliminate most of the problem.
When an aggressor does not find the reaction he expects in his victim, he will
cease to find pleasure in his behaviour. Perhaps, therefore, he may be able to
become conscious of how his actions hurt his life as well as others’ lives.
EFT is based on the principle that the cause of all the negative emotions
we feel is not because of the situation itself, but because of a blockage in our
body’s energetic system which comes about when we experience a particular
trauma, fear or phobia. Through freeing yourself from the excessive burden of
negative emotions induced by bullying, you will feel a growing self-confidence.
You will be in a better position to stand up to any other aggression that may
rear up, because you will be sufficiently calm and serene to function in the
best possible way, unconditioned by your past fears. This would explain why
some people remain trapped in a traumatic memory while others manage to
overcome it.
The meridians described in Chinese Medicine and used in acupuncture
are channels through which energy of the body flows. Thus, in EFT, gentle
tapping with the tips of your fingers stimulates the meridians while we
concentrate on the problem we wish to resolve, with the goal of eliminating
the block from the body’s electrical circuit. We therefore re-establish the
correct flow of energy which either eliminates or considerably diminishes the
excessive charge of negativity which we suffer when we remember the
problem.
Bullying is a traumatic experience in which our energetic system is easily
blocked under an avalanche of emotions which we feel when we attack as
well as when we are being attacked – but especially so in the later case. We
qualify these emotions as negative not only because they feel bad, but also
because when they are not processed correctly, they can drag us down into a
vicious circle of depression and powerlessness. That interferes with our
happiness, our ability to feel more positive emotions like love, joy,
enthusiasm, confidence, security, determination, optimism, etc. Negative or
badly processed emotions appear to anchor us in a dark well which we want
to get out of, although the reality is that it is not only those that keep us there,
but also the energy block that has taken place,
SYF has designed a programme applied to bullying at school which in no
way constitutes the only way tackle the problem. Before continuing, we have
to say that SYF is not responsible for the use or abuse of this technique, and
that each person who decides to use it is solely responsible. Using it is in no
way a substitute for psychological treatment that a pupil may be receiving
either as aggressor or victim. As a complement to orthodox treatment it can
maximise its effectiveness. (If you are not in agreement with this point, it
is better not to continue reading this appendix).

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 How to use Magic Tapping
SYF has chosen a shorter version of EFT for the Magic Tapping. Before
applying this technique, it is important that we are sufficiently hydrated, and
we therefore recommend that you drink a large glass or two of water to start.
It is necessary to be well tuned into the situation we wish to heal,
remembering with some intensity what happened to us although not to the
extent that we find the memory unbearable. It is important to tune emotionally
into the situation, and not just mentally, because it is our emotions that we
wish to heal, not the idea of it.
The tapping is applied gently with the tips of the index and middle fingers
in a series of points on the body, while repeating a certain phrase.
First, find a tender point some four to six centimetres below your
collarbone, half way between the bone and the beginning of your breast. This
point is tender because it forms part of the lymphatic system. Rub this with
your knuckle in a circular motion whilst repeating the phrase you will use for
healing yourself three times. For example: ‘Although Carlos insulted me by
calling me a tub of lard when I left the dining room, I deeply love and accept
myself.’
It is important that the phrase describes in our own words what
happened and to feel the emotions as best we can. If it is necessary to repeat
a rude word because it enables us to connect more to the situation we wish to
heal, it is better just to use it. There are times when the chosen phrase does
not reduce the energy block, but if we repeat it with more emphasis,
especially the positive part where we accept, forgive or love ourselves, we
often manage to resolve the block. (We have included examples of useful
phrases further on.)
After the main phrase, we state a shorter one which helps us to stay
tuned in to the presenting problem. An example from the situation above
could be,’ I am called a tub of lard’, or simply, ‘Tub of lard’. The supporting
phrase (SP) is stated once only, while we give ourselves six or seven magic
taps on each one of the following points on the face, body, fingers and the
crown.

Points to touch
Face:
Near the inner edge of the eyebrow. Six or seven taps and the
supporting phrase (SP).
On the outer edge of the eyebrow. 6/7 taps and SP.
Underneath the eye in the centre of the socket. 6/7 taps and SP.
Between the nose and the upper lip. 6/7 taps and SP.
In the centre of the chin. 6/7 taps and SP.

Body:
Underneath the collarbone. 6/7 taps and SP. Some 10 cm below the
armpit. 6/7 taps and SP.

Hands:
On the right side of each finger (except ring), where the nail begins. 6/7
taps and SP.

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 On the karate chop point – the centre of the fleshy part of the hand
between the wrist and the small finger. 6/7 taps and SP.

Head:
On the centre of the crown. 6/7 taps and SP.
We can also apply the taps while repeating the whole healing phrase.
The procedure is longer, but sometimes more effective.

Choosing the main determining phrase

Although stimulating the points helps to re-establish the correct flow of
energy in the meridians, the choice of the main phrase is very important to
heal a wound once and for all, however old it is. The phrase is a powerful
affirmation which we make to ourselves – although we recognise that we are
not happy with something, that it makes us frightened or hurts us or makes us
ashamed, on the other hand we deeply love and accept ourselves. When we
accept unconditionally who we are, we open the door to transformation, able
to be ourselves no matter what others say. Our relationship with ourselves is
the most important relationship we have. We need to cultivate it daily to
enable it to grow, so that we may live fully. If we do not accept ourselves, we
do not love ourselves, we do not forgive ourselves, we do not care for
ourselves, we do not protect ourselves. Who will do it for us? No one except
ourselves is there with us twenty-four hours a day. How many people flee
from themselves, rushing into all kinds of activities, however inadvisable,
because they cannot bear their own company?
In order to choose the determining phrase you have to tune into the
problem and describe it in the most precise way possible, using you own
words, in your school slang if need be. That will help you to come into contact
with the block. Remember that it is better to exaggerate the phrases, putting
as much emphasis in to them as you can, because the message will thus
have more impact on your energetic system. If it is necessary, raise your
voice. Using phrases with a sense of humour will also produce excellent
results.

Magic Tapping Formula for School Bullying

Now that you have the basic instructions on how to apply the magic
tapping, here is the procedure for using them:
1. Take a pencil and paper and write down what happened, who is
bullying you and how s/he is doing it. Write down the insults they say, the
physical aggression – everything you can think of related to the bullying. If it is
painful, imagine that you are a Police Inspector making a report and have the
intention of making it as precise as possible. For example:
‘Carlos called me a lousy midget in front of everybody last
Wednesday.’
‘My schoolmates laugh at me because of the red trousers I wear.’
‘Pedro and Maria say that I will never amount to anything because
I am a piece of shit.’
‘When I left the classroom, they grabbed me and pushed me
down the stairs.’
2. On a second sheet of paper, write down how you feel when bullied,
what effect they have on you. Perhaps you feel a mixture of emotions. Note

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them down one by one while making the effort to locate the separate feelings
during the aggression. For example:
‘I felt ashamed of myself.’
‘I feel chicken for not having confronted these attacks like a brave
person would.’
‘If my father found out, I would be the laughing stock of the family.’
‘I feel panicky when those boys come near me.’
‘I am frightened of what they will do.’
‘I feel responsible for what happened.’
‘I feel devastated, desperate.’
‘I am overwhelmed, I don’t know what to do.’
‘My mind goes blank, I can’t do anything.’
‘I am frightened.’
‘What’s happening pisses me off.’
‘I am depressed.’
‘I feel I will never get out of this situation.’
‘I wouldn’t have this problem if ….
‘The problem is I am fat/skinny/small/an idiot/weak/clumsy…’
‘I am confused, I don’t know why this is happening.’

3. On a separate piece of paper, write down the physical sensations you

experience during and after the aggression. For example:
‘When they attack, my eyes go misty.’
‘I feel palpitations.’
‘My breathing goes shallow.’
‘I feel like I’ve been hit in the stomach, even though they haven’t.’
‘My legs tremble.’
‘I go mute, unable to speak.’
‘I feel a heaviness in my heart.’
‘I feel a buzzing in my ears.’
‘I feel nauseous, like I’m going to be sick.’
‘I feel that my back and shoulders are tight.’
‘My mouth dries.’
‘I feel such an anxiety that I have to eat something, anything,
usually biscuits, cake, bread, chocolate.’

4. On a fourth page, write down the emotions and sensations that you
feel some days, weeks or months after the event. Often our emotions change,
becoming more bitter, say, with the passage of time. They too can be treated.
In general, these emotions are bitterness, rancour, the need for revenge,
hate, inability to forgive and forget.

5. Once all these lists are written down, take a phrase from each one and
apply a minimum of two or three rounds of magic tapping to reduce the
intensity of the emotions or the pain that you feel when you relive them. For
example, in the first list you can take a phrase such as:
‘Although Carlos called me a lousy midget in front of all the others
when we were leaving school, I love myself and I accept myself totally
as I am.’
In the second list, we can find the reaction we feel during the insult:

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 ‘Although I feel ashamed of myself because of these attacks, I
know that deep down I am a great kid and I shall come out ahead.’
In the third list of physical symptoms, we can take the following phrase:
‘Although I feel palpitations in my heart when Carlos gives me
threatening looks, I deeply accept myself as I am and I know that
everything will work out well.’

The format for creating phrases is simple. We always start with.

‘Although this or that happened, I love and accept myself deeply.’ We can
introduce variations on this phrase to accelerate our healing, or when we that
the second part of the phrase needs alteration.
If you find it difficult to create your own phrases, you will find below some
examples of basic emotions which are normally felt when an attack takes
place:
- fear, panic, terror, horror, rejection, revulsion
- anxiety, distress, consternation, insecurity, confusion,
disturbed, disconcerted, unconfident, distrust, stupefied
- upset, irritation, annoyance, indignation, anger, rage,
hate, fury
- pain, suffering, disappointment, despair, dejection,
depression, sadness, melancholy, apathy, pessimism, suicidal
thoughts
- Blame, resignation, humiliation, powerlessness, remorse,
ashamed of self, defenceless, a failure.

If you are not inspired to find your own phrases, you can identify in this
list an emotion that you feel when remembering a specific event and use it to
make up a phrase. For example: ‘Although I feel fear, I deeply love and
accept myself.’ Repeat this phrase three times while lightly rubbing in a circle
the tender point between the collarbone and the breast. Then as you apply
the Magic Taps on each point of the face, the hands and the head, repeat the
supporting phrase ‘I feel fear’.

Examples of Phrases
The statements in these phrases appear contradictory because in the
first phrase we are affirming a fact and in the other we are affirming the
opposite. There is a reason for this: we are accepting what happened instead
of ignoring it and at the same time we are installing a new, more positive and
encouraging behaviour. Use your imagination to construct more encouraging
phrases which help you to feel powerful, optimistic and whatever else you
need to feel good about yourself. For example:
‘Although I feel fear, shame, pain, frustration, anxiety, etc., I
deeply love and accept myself.’
‘Although……. , I know I am a great kid.’
‘Although…….., what they said to me is a lie, I know I am a good
person.’
‘Although……..., I deeply accept myself as I am and I forgive
myself and those who have harmed me, because I am a kind soul and
those guys don’t know what they are doing.’

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 ‘Although they hit (bully/attack/insult) me at school, I am a strong
kid, full of energy and life, and I know how to come out of all this in
front, full of self-confidence.’
‘Although………, I know that those insults don’t mean anything.’
‘Although they criticise me and tell me I have many faults, I am
perfectly imperfect, like the rest of the world, and I accept myself as
such.’
‘Although it appears that nobody loves me, I deeply love and
accept myself as I am, and I know that, even if I haven’t realised it,
many other people can accept me such as I am.’
‘Although………, I feel secure and confident because, although
they say differently, I know I am a wonderful person.’
‘Although the intend me to fall into the bullying trap, I know that it
is merely an idea in my aggressor’s head and I don’t have to accept
that.’
‘Although………., I am my own best friend and I protect and care
deeply for myself, and I know that that this situation is temporary and
will work out fine.’
‘Although……….., I am proud of myself because I do not need to
go attacking anyone to feel strong and sure of myself. I am already.’
‘Although……….., I am a strong kid and I have confidence in
myself.’
‘Although……….., I will overcome this problem.’
‘For as much as they intend to squash me, the power is with me
and I shall always be a free person in full charge of myself.’
‘Although…….., nobody can rob me of my freedom, my strength,
my self-esteem, my self-respect.’
‘Although they torture me, thinking I am worth nothing, I love
myself totally and unconditionally, and I shall always be able to support
myself.’
‘Although a bully means to harm me, he will never be able to
reach inside me. Thus I am free, powerful and safe.’
‘Although…….., I am happy being just who I am.’

Duration of Magic Tapping Treatment

It is advisable that, if you are being bullied daily at school, you apply the
magic taps every day: at night, remembering what happened to you and
dealing with each and every insult that has been said to you; in the morning
before going to school, choosing phrase which give cheer you and make you
feel strong and hopeful. In school, you can find a moment to go to the toilets
when you feel nervous and apply a few taps to reduce those nerves.

The Film Technique

Sometimes it works really well to visualise what happened as if it were a
film, while at the same time applying the magic taps in silence, making sure
that we are imaging all the scenes that have occurred. We can thus do
several rounds of taps and finish with some simple, positive phrases to
reinforce our self-esteem. Also, if we are so upset that we cannot speak or are
crying, the Magic Taps, applied in silence for a reasonable time, will alleviate
our feelings a lot.

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 Magic Tapping to raise our mood
These magic taps are exclusively to introduce new thoughts and more
positive attitudes to gradually raise our self-esteem. You can apply them to
yourself when you need extra support. Be creative with the phrases. Here are
some examples:
‘The force is with me.’
‘I am full of energy.’
‘Life smiles on me and supports me.’
‘Each day I am more joyful and content.’
‘I deeply respect myself.’
‘I love myself totally and unconditionally.’
‘I deserve the best.’
‘I am a great kid.’
‘I am full of life and health.’
‘I feel secure and confident.’
‘I am happy to be who I am.’

Use your imagination. In time perhaps you will discover that you respond
better to some points and not others when using the Magic Taps. Use these
points and apply the MT there. If you obtain positive results, you will not need
to apply the whole sequence as described, which is rather useful when you
don’t have much time to do it.

For more information on EFT: www.emofree.com

There you will find information mostly in English, but there is a link where
you can download a free manual in your own language.

Note: The author and Monjes Locos wish to make it clear that they have
absolutely no commercial links with EFT, Emofree or Gary Craig, nor do they
receive any financial benefit through explaining the technique in this book.

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 Four steps out of bullying

A practical guide

This guide has been created to help adults assist young people in bullying situations. Its main
aim is to help teachers, parents, uncles, elder brothers or sisters deliver clearly what is really
happening to the victim, other than the obvious. Please remember when using this guide, that
although the adult may be aware of these points the teenager most likely is not. We have
compiled this information in four steps that will help the adult assist the teenager shift his
view.

Quite often the person who is being bullied is left in the dark, for rarely is there a concise
description of what is happening and the steps can be taken to get out of the situation. We
know there are many angles to approach bullying and each case requires special attention and
discernment in order to understand what is really happening. At times when a crisis affects our
life we are so lost in it, we forget that if we are capable of getting into a situation, there is also a
way out. In my particular case of bullying when I was 13, I had no idea what was happening in
the least. The longest description I received from adults was “We know its unfair, but these
things do happen” or “ that's life, get on with it”, remembers Craig Stuart Garner. In other
words, we have no choice other than find a solution for ourselves. “Personally I believe that if I
had been blessed with some kind of description that would of enabled me to come up with not
only a faster solution but a much better way of dealing with my teenage relationships. This is
no different from the adult who visits his doctor with some kind of pain, not only in search of
a way of removing it but also in search of the cause. Just knowing the probable cause helps us
all deal with our particular situation”.

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 Our view and focus of bullying

Many other systems focus entirely on the bully being the problem and with the removal of
the bully, the problem completely dissolves. This of course is a a very logical deduction, but
we have found that this leaves a lot uncovered ground with regards to the victim. Even when
the bully disappears out of the victim’s life, in many cases the bullying continues inside the
mind of the victim. It is precisely for this reason that we have created these four steps, which
enables one to be an empowered young adult, instead of being, a bundle of nerves, always on
the defense and reacting to almost every situation as some kind of an attack.

We hope you find these points useful and that you are able to find an effective
manner in passing this information on, and at the same time attain a higher level of
communication and harmony with the person who is suffering bullying.

Basic map of a bully’s method

As a general rule, the bully chooses someone he can easily defeat and selects his victims in
accordance to what he considers to be a specific weakness, be it physical, emotional or
/mental (the later includes racial and cultural causes). But in other cases a weakness is not even
required, for the aggressor will hypnotize his victim into believing what he wants them to see
and believe. With this choice at hand, he will project forcefully the idea that he is a powerful
aggressor and the victim is a helpless and weak creature with no resources to counter attack .
Many victims unconsciously accept this mental projection from the aggressor and without
their conscious consent form part of a vicious mind game. From here and on, victims are easily
manipulated and fall into a powerless pre-assigned role dictated by the bully. After this first
victory, the bully only requires a minimum effort to keep his victim entranced. Along with the
help of some of his allies he leads his victim into a paralyzing trap, much like the way a spider
traps a fly wrapping him up tighter with each thread.

One aspect that is very clear in all cases is that the bully is looking to create a victim no
matter what his methodology or own particular reasons might be. We suggest that
independently of this guide, the person that is helping the victim make their own particular

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assessment. Each case has its own peculiarities, and being sure of the details is essential for a
happy ending.

The four steps

The way you see any given situation and the way you perceive and define yourself within that
situation, determines the outcome of it for you. The basic truth of this is very simple but often
is fully overlooked, and that's exactly what the bully is trying to achieve through his victims.
His aim is to superimpose his view on to you, so that you take it in, you believe it, you
embody it and at a later stage you become it. Realizing this game plan, we can now work on
creating the four steps that will shift our perception of the situation, of ourselves and of our
existing resources to overcome it.

The first step: The victim

Identification

A true victim is someone who suffers to the extreme a situation of bullying, and as a result
perceives it as a catastrophic and life threatening event. Having believed and thus fallen
completely into the bully’s trap he/she has now become a confirmed and self-
self-identified victim.
The bully has now become his/her own personal jailer in what seems to be a very real
imprisoned state. A state made up of fear, isolation, hopelessness and despair, with no inner

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resources to free oneself from the situation. The victim is trapped in a deep well, with no sign
of light or hope of escape possible. Sustaining this view as a victim only leads to an ever
increasing paralysis and a sensation that there will never be any help available.

Getting out of the victim’s mode

A good explanation summary must be passed on to the victim so that they are aware of their
present state. This must be done in a language that the victim is familiar with. In other words,
the academic approach would be useless for a thirteen year old, where as, a simple description
in everyday language will assist in truly getting the message over

Considering that the person’s reactions to bullying as a victim is mostly unconscious, a brief
explanation of the persons present state is essential. This enables the victim to become more
conscious and much more ready for the steps that lay ahead.

For a shift to occur in the mind of the victim a seed must be planted to open the way to a new
view. This is the point where the help is needed from someone who can expand the victim’s
understanding.

Two challenging questions can prompt the victim in a new direction:

1. Do you want this bullying situation to go on like this for ever?

2. What would your life be like without bullying?

Ensuring that the victim has thought deeply about the above questions, some definite changes
will have occurred .The first question leads the person into realizing and deciding they would
love to put an end to this situation. The second, gives them the energy, the will and the reason
to take positive action in the right direction. It is from this point that the victim is ready to
take the next step away from bullying.

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 The survivor
Differentiation

Driven by his/her will to overcome the situation, the survivor goes through the same bullying
act but does not get trapped so easily in it. This renewed sense of hope and energy will assist
him in taking the first action as a survivor: to give up being a victim by rejecting this
projection, thus differentiating himself from this prepre--assigned role.The
role bully is not seen
anymore as a jailer but more as a threat to be dealt with, using the survivors qualities:
endurance and the will to be safe.

You consciously become a survivor instead of a victim when you decide you want to overcome
the situation. This is done, firstly by knowing that you were tricked and used in the first place.
In other words, the survivor acknowledges that as a victim they have felt as if they were a
direct target, but now as survivor knows he or she is being used to form part of a plan. It is
important to realize the bully always needs a victim and never a survivor.
survivor By understanding the
basic mind game or mental projection that has been imposed onto him, the survivor will now
open his mind. This new sense of curiosity will lead him to the path of the explorer, the one
willing to discover more of the bully´s strategies of domination.

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 The Explorer
Integration

The explorer has realized that although what has happened to him was very real, on the other
hand he is beginning to see that it really all forms part of the bully’s strategies. Although the
explorer is changing his way of seeing bullying this is gradual. He is now becoming a witness of
a destructive game that unfolds around him. At this point, he is feeling a certain degree of
detachment and feels more and more liberated from the hypnotic grip of the bully. He senses
the great potential in braking down these strategies, and because of this sees the bully as a
source of information and not so much as a threat. He is ready to integrate his experiences and
what he will learn as an explorer.

For the first time the person suffering from bullying, is taking a positive stance with regards to
the events that have occurred to him.

Know thy enemy-

enemy-know yourself

The mission of the explorer is to find out exactly how the bully operates and also how it is
affecting him internally.
internally In each case there are many variants, but the explorer really needs to
know all the tools the bully uses against him. For this to happen, a series of very personal
questions need to be answered to assist the process of exploration:

-How does the bully physically intimidate you? What is his body language like? How does it
affect you?

-How does he verbally harass you? What are his exact choice of words and how do they harm
you?

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-How does he emotionally attack you? How does he make you feel during and after the act of
bullying?

-How does he use his friends or even the people around you to put you down?

-Do you really have any idea at all of how the bully has tricked you?

-What is the bully making you believe? Do you really believe this? Or is it something you are
accepting passively without enquiry?

These questions will not only offer valuable information on the bully and his ways but also will
open a new course of exploration: the path of self enquiry where the person suffering bullying
must undergo a personal and internal quest to discover how the bully is triggering him. This
part of the process, being delicate, requires the explorer to look closely at his wounds and what
weaknesses or misconceptions he carries within him. Once we work on these internal aspects
with a loving and non judgemental attitude,
attitude it will result in a greater sense of freedom. As a
result, the bully will now find it very hard to access the internal buttons of his victim, making
it much more difficult for his strategies to work successfully.

The self empowered

Transcendence

If the explorer really has done his homework, he is now ready to take the next step towards
self empowerment. The self empowered person has gained a clear understanding on how
bullying is a distorted way of relating , based on a power game and the wrong conception of
what true power is. He has now understood that real power is the inner strength someone has
acquired through a process of growth and maturity and has nothing to do with overpowering
another person. Confident in his own realizations he is now able to confront any type of
situation in life. He has overcome his difficulties and understands that its the bully who is
having trouble relating . None the less, he is also aware of his responsibility towards his own
safety and the need to be cautious when dealing with troubled people. At this point, he is also
aware that anybody, including himself could become a bully. This is something that should be
always taken into account. Finally, after passing through this traumatic experience, the explorer
must have not only overcome this negative challenge but also is enabled to help others

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overcome their situations. In this manner, after taking the four steps a circle is completed and
the whole trauma is finalized.

Of what benefit are these four steps ?

These four steps are co-related with four different levels of consciousness and each one of these lead to
a new vision of ourselves, the reality we live in and the tools we have for working with life. The main
aim of someone who wishes to help another, suffering from any type of bullying is to enable them to
move from a limited level of consciousness, towards a more expanded and empowering one. This in
turn gives the person the ability to respond in a variety of ways gradually leading him or she out of the
reactionary ways of the victim.

Precautions

Although it is uncommon, it is not impossible that a person having taken the first steps
reaches the explorer stage, takes a sharp u turn. Instead of taking the next steps towards
personal freedom, he or she returns to the beginning stage and re-identifies with the victim’s
role. For some people, this first phase can be very attractive, mainly because they seem to
consider it is much easier to do nothing and let others resolve our problems. This dangerous
U-turn can get us stuck in the role of victim becoming more and more bitter every day. On the
other hand, the return to victim hood can be a great way of gaining attention and energy from
others. Needless to say, its not the ideal state to be in as one becomes a beggar and is far from
being self sufficient. If this does occur, we recommend to reveal this dynamic to the person,
thus shedding the light of conscious awareness into this regressive pattern. It is only by opening
the eyes and being clear of this U-turn that someone can return to the path of self
empowerment and freedom.

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VICTIM SURVIVOR EXPLORER SELF EMPOWERED

Identification Differentiation Integration Transcendence

Unconsciousness Semi-consciousness, Beginning Full consciousness

consciousness
Dispair, fear, Hope, energy, Confronts situation,
confusion, paralysis caution, Increased confidence
determination, Liberated, liberator,
Total suffering choice, suffering- Observer, witness,
Helps others,
observation
emotional intelligence,
Researcher, inner
work

Observation,
curiosity
Bully seen: needs help
Bully seen as: jailer Bully seen: source of
Bully seen: threat information

May this guide be of benefit to you and your beloved ones.

Craig Stuart Garner and Barbara Meneses Montgomery

Contact the authors at:

www.monjeslocos.com
monjeslocos@gmail.com

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 Table of content

Chapter 1: Desperation………………..……… page 8

Chapter 2: Discovering the programme…………..page 14
Chapter 3: Saturday Sports……………………....page 34
Chapter 4: Everything starts with just one step…....page 46
Chapter 5: The Trap……………………………page 56
Chapter 6: Breaking out of the trap…………… page 64
Chapter 7: The secret of Not Two…………… page 70
Chapter 8: Trully a magic wand…………………page 81
Chapter 9: Absence……………………………. page 92
Chapter 10: The mysteries of Koti Koti………….page 99
Chapter 11: Bibilok…………………………. page 111
Chapter 12: The Big Wheel…………………. page 126
Chapter 13: The Chest………………………. page 134

Appendix
Magic Tapping for bullying at school………… page 136
Four Steps out of bullying, practical guide…… page 144

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