Imagine yourself surrounded by soft jazz, cushy chairs and hot mocha espressos. You've just entered your favorite cafe - and you're there to curl up, relax, and eavesdrop on the latest! This is no ordinary cafe with ordinary conversation. Each one of our Body Type Dialogue stories illustrates how the different body types think, react and deal with each other. You may read a story about a Heart man gushing over a cute latte-drinking Adrenal girl. Or, a Thyroid man may be discussing his marketing budget with his Lymph supervisor. Wherever the conversation leads you, you'll come away with a better understanding of the 25 Body Types, and learn how they may react in real-life conversations.
We hope you enjoy these whimsical stories and they help you gain a deeper understanding of the 25 Body Types.
"So you mean I'm not so strange after all?"
"Of course not. In fact, this is very consistent with the Pineal Body types."
"I have noticed that when I follow my inner guidance, my life works, and when I ignore it, I can get into a major life crisis.”
"That is exactly what happens. It is important to pay attention to all your feelings, dreams and thoughts. All are forms of physic awareness or intuition. Many people have that awareness, but as children, we are taught to concentrate on building our intellect, so our intuition doesn't have an opportunity to develop and often ends up being completely submerged. So when it occasionally surfaces, it may scare us more than help us."
"You mean I can learn to control this? Turn it on and off whenever I want?"
"In a sense you can, yes. But learning to live with your intuition isn't about trying to control it. It's about acquiring the skill of letting it come into your awareness and then listening to it. But let's not get ahead of ourselves here. We've only just put a name on something that has concerned you for a long time. There's a lot of work ahead trying to define the importance, if any, you would like your intuition to play in your life. Only then can you decide how and what you want to do with it."
"Wow. So that's what it's been all these years. I can't tell you how happy I am to have someone validate this for me. You wouldn't believe how many blanks this fills in. Oh, I'm sorry. I guess you probably would. I mean, this is your business."
"Well, yes, this is why I’m here. And I do know what you're going through. I was once where you are now, and I can remember clearly the relief I felt when I was reconnected to this missing part of life."
"So what do I do now?"
"That's right, nothing. Just go home and quietly consider what you have discovered today, and then simply watch what it means to you. Return in two days and we will talk some more."
"Okay. Will do. You're the Doc…..I mean, counselor, well, whatever.”
"It's important at this stage that you don't speak of what you've learned—at least not yet. I know you are used to talking as a way of working things out, of defining your ideas and substantiating your feelings, but in this case, it's important that you don't discuss it with anyone—that you don't dissipate the energy. Let the energy migrate inward. Just observe it."
"I'm not sure I get it exactly, but that's fine. Hey, if people have trouble understanding me now, they're certainly not going to get all this inner voice stuff. You know what I mean?"
"No more talking. Just watch."
"Okay, okay. I get it. No talking."
George left the counselor full of excitement. He couldn't wait to get over to the Body Type Café and tell all his friends. "Gosh, when everyone hears about this, they'll be blown away," he said to himself. He wondered how he could show his appreciation to his friend, Cynthia, for suggesting he try body type counseling. "I hope she's there tonight. I'll buy her dinner. That will be a start," he thought.
When he turned into the parking lot of the café, George recognized half a dozen cars belonging to people he knew. Then he remembered the instructions he was given. "Do not talk about what you have learned." It was almost as if he could hear the counselor's voice. "Keep silent, just watch. Do nothing." Suddenly, George didn't feel like seeing anyone, and without even stopping, he made his way out of the café parking lot and headed for home.
Something profound was happening to George, and he was starting to feel very much out of control. Being a bit on the nervous, high strung side, normally this would cause him to speed up and feel scattered, but for some reason he felt strangely quiet inside, self-contained and at peace. George decided he would call in sick for work the next day and just hide out at home and try to sort things out.
After feeding his cat, George went to his office and took out paper and pencil. He was going to make a list of all the unexplained events in his life that his new awareness might explain. This in itself was a change, as George never wrote anything down. He would just think it, and if he was lucky, he could take action on it quickly, otherwise whatever it was would simply be lost. But this was really important to him, and he wanted to be prepared for his next meeting with the counselor. So, as the memories came flooding back, he scribbled as fast as he could.
There was the time in kindergarten when he met a friend that he knew would be a friend for a long time. He was a friend until twelfth grade. Then there was the time in Junior High when he had a feeling that someone important to his best girl friend had died, and when he went to her house after school, he found her crying because her cat had been run over. And the same year, he became aware of being much more sensitive to other people's feelings than was anyone else he knew. In high school, he was involved with a girl he intuitively knew was not good for him, but he liked her so much that he ignored his internal guidance. He got so upset over the relationship that he ended up getting in a very serious accident. When he was having trouble figuring out a math problem, he would just picture Albert Einstein or some other great mathematician, and he would hear their voice tell him how to do the problem. But mostly, there was a constant feeling of "knowing" stuff, even things he didn't have any business knowing. George often irritated people and had a reputation for being a "know it all".
Remembrances were coming so fast that George couldn't keep up, and then, suddenly, he didn't want to keep up. He threw down the pencil and sat back in his chair and just let the memories flow. And flow they did, right up to college where they seemed to just stop. George knew why, too. When he was younger, he sensed it was better not to tell anyone about his thoughts and visions. He was comfortable with them and just sort of let them happen. But when he got into college and the subject of supernatural phenomena came up in a late night discussion, George shared some of his past with his friends. Far from being supportive, they laughed at him and accused George of making it up and of being a real weirdo if any of it were actually true. George's reaction was immediate; from that moment on, he promised himself he would never discuss this with anyone again, and he would stop anything remotely strange from coming into his consciousness.
Remembering that decision brought tears to George's eyes as he realized what a serious mistake that had been.. It was as if, at that moment, he left his feelings and intuition and went straight into his head. Even though his superior intellect would serve him well in school and in his career, he never again felt really connected to his environment or to other people. Gathering facts, becoming a "know it all", became the overriding drive for him. Feelings—his own and others’—became less important, and eventually, irrelevant. And while he would always be popular, real intimacy would always elude him.
George suddenly realized the meaning of the day's events and why they were so very important to him. After years of denying a huge part of himself, he had been reconnected by the counselor's validation of a gift he had unwittingly rejected. It was as if he was now free to express the whole of who he was. "Like the return of the prodigal son," he thought. "This is going to totally change my life. Into what, I don't know, but if it's the last thing I ever do, I must learn to listen to the inner me." So, for the remainder of the evening and after having a deep, dreamless night's sleep, and for all of the next day, George reflected on the meaning of his new awareness. Yes, there would be much to say to the counselor and he didn't have to write it down. George would know just what to say.
When George arrived for his appointment, no one answered the bell. He let himself in, and when he entered the den, he just took a seat on the floor facing the counselor who was sitting quietly with his eyes closed. Looking up and smiling, his new mentor asked softly, "Well, George, what have you learned since we last talked?"
George opened his mouth to speak, to share all the thousands of thoughts, impressions, feelings and ideas he'd had in the past two days. But instead of issuing a flow of words, George's mouth was still, gripped with a powerful silence as if there was nothing that could be said.
"You've moved very quickly indeed," George thought he heard the teacher say. But he wasn't sure, and this gave him an odd feeling. After all, he really hadn't seen his lips move.
George shut his eyes and felt himself slip into a place where all of his thoughts vanished, and there was only a sense of being there. He felt like he was floating in the middle of an endless expanse of quiet and calm, and then the sound of the counselor's voice, "You see, George, it's only in silence that we can truly hear."