RUNNING CCHs
A lecture given on 22 June 1961
All right.
I’d better cover the running of the CCHs just for fun just for fun, just as an
amusing activity that, of course, has no relationship to anybody that’s ever
going to make a mistake— particularly here.
And the
way the CCHs are run is CCH 1, 2, 3, 4; 1, 2, 3, 4; 1, 2, 3, 4; just like a
waltz step. You just continue them over and over and over and over and over and
over and over and over and over and over and over. And it is a breach of the
Auditor’s Code, Clause 13, to run a process longer than it is producing change;
and it is a breach of the Auditor’s Code, Clause 13, to cease to run a process
that is producing change. And nothing we are doing these days has exceeded the
Auditor’s Code in any way, shape or form.
The odd
part of it is, the more we seem to change our minds, the more they remain the
same, as far as what we’re doing is concerned. People who accuse us, you see,
of always changing our minds miss the point that we haven’t changed very many
fundamentals. But we’ve sure been looking for an opening in other people’s
minds, and CCH is one of them.
And the
CCHs were basically pioneered, I see, back in about 1956. And that is the first
way they were run, and that is the way they produce the maximum change. And
after that, I didn’t pay too much attention to them, and they slopped into very
careless ways. And people started adding additives to them; that is the usual
thing that happens. And people started to endure while running them, and it
hadn’t anything to do with the CCHs.
Hence I’m
calling this back to your attention. Commands have been added to them, like
“Put your hands back in your lap.” Now, what that has to do with the CCHs, I'm
sure I don’t know, because I never heard of it until I picked it up on a sheet
of paper not too long ago.
Somebody
refined it and I okayed it carelessly and then forgot about it, and so forth.
Truth of the matter is, the words in a CCH process have practically nothing to
do with the process.
Now, I had
a question on an auditor’s report here the other day, as to whether or not you
w ere really supposed to put the person’s hand—or touch the person’s wrist with
your other hand. At least that’s the way I interpreted the question. Well, how
are you going to get the man’s hand? It’s a matter of seizure, as far as you’re
concerned; it doesn’t matter whether he’s hanging from the chandelier or
anything else. You take his wrist delicately between your thumb and forefinger
and put his paw in your paw, and you execute the auditing command for him. And
you continue to do that. It’s always the same repetitive motion; you always do
it the same way.
And there
are exact motions that you go through. I won’t try to describe these verbally;
I’d rather show you. They’re very simple. For instance, when you’re doing CCH
1, your knees are interlocked with the PC’s knees. Try to get out of a chair
when somebody has got your knees clamped. You see, you don’t sit back across
the room and so on. You do so much formal auditing that you’ve forgotten that
there was an awful heavy routine regimen laid down here on these CCHs. They
were quite precise.
Anyway,
you’re moved in practically into the PC’s chest, and you’ve got at least one of
his knees between your knees, and he starts anyplace, why, there he is. He
isn’t going to get up— not if you close your knees. And furthermore, you should
be between him and the door. Always. Your back’s to the door; his face is
toward it.
Now, he’s
got a wide perimeter to leap through to get to the door, but you’re covering
all of it. If you’re suspicious of him, back him to the far corner of the room
on a CCH 1; so therefore he has to walk through you to get to
the door. And you don’t lose PCs. I mean, they sit there and run CCH 1, that’s
all.
You do a
certain routine with your hands, and you present the hand into your hand, and
you don’t shake it and wish him happy days and all that sort of . . . He has
given you his hand, and at that moment you put his hand back. See, you don’t
tell him “Now, put your hands back in your lap.”
What was
this—telepathic CCHs? Well, the CCHs are run with meat. They are very meaty
processes, you see? They’re not verbal “Let’s all get along . . .”
We had a
student one time on one of the ACCs that was running CCH 2, and the PC was
giving the auditor a very bad time, you see? But it was just a coaching session
because they were doing Upper Indoc. And this PC was acting as the PC, of
course, was slumping and doing unexpected twists and turns. And this dear
person who was running this TR, all of a sudden just abandoned the whole thing
and turned around to her instructor and said, “PCs never act that way; I’m
simply not going to run that TR anymore.”
Well, time
went by, and she ran into one who did act that way, who acted much worse in an
actual session. So all of your Upper Indoc was simply basic training by which
you could then do the CCHs. But unless you’d done Upper Indoc, you see, and got
your confrontingness up on this amount of motion, then it was difficult to do
the CCHs.
Now, two
of the CCHs are as rough as bear rassling. Now, the other two CCHs are not.
Nevertheless, they, too, are done by compulsion if necessary.
You can
run one-handedly CCH 3 and CCH 4, and you run it one handedly. That’s an
interesting aspect of it. You take the PC’s hand and you make the PC’s hand
touch yours and follow the motion. That’s all. And then you release his hand. I
mean, that’s as simple as that. It becomes a kind of a CCH 1 all over again,
but it was with motion in a different pattern each time, don’t you see? So if
the PC is running fine, you run it two-handed and if the PC is not running
fine, you run it one-handed. And that’s all there is to it.
And book
mimicry: He says he’s not going to do book mimicry because when he was very
young he got hit by a book. And you say, “That’s fine,” and you take the book
and you put it through a motion, and then you put the book in his hands and you
put it through the same motion. And then you take the book and put it through a
motion, then put it in his hands and go through the same motion. You
understand?
This PC
never has an opportunity not to execute the auditing command, and that’s all
there is to it. And that’s CCH 1, 2, 3, 4. The PC never has an opportunity not
to execute the auditing command.
And the
auditor who will let the PC get away with a non-execution of a CCH oh, my. It
just isn’t done—not at all, not even in Chelsea. Not done. The PC always
executes the auditing command, no matter if you have to sit on her chest and
get it done! And you could fully expect the PC to turn up to high C, high G.
soprano, contralto, or just get into a roaring funk or anything else. Who
cares! It has nothing to do with your Tone 40ing through the CCHs. It is just
that way. It is not nice; it is effective.
Now, the
consequences of letting a PC get out of a CCH are very grave, and you only have
to do it once and you will wish to God you never did it again.
I saw a PC
let out of CCH 2 one day, and that PC went crazy. How do you like that? It was
an institutional PC to begin with. And the PC was getting better under CCH 2
and all of a sudden made a break for the door, and the auditor did not stop
her. And she rushed out into the street. And the auditor walked along behind
her trying to persuade her to do the process. And she walked all over the town
and was eventually picked up by the cops and thrown into the local spin bin, where she had
come from originally. I’m not trying to tell you that CCH 2 drove this person
crazy. But do you know that PC didn’t get all right for years? Now, the
consequences of it are pretty fabulous.
That
auditor just stood there and let the PC blow. You got the idea? He heard about
it for years, too. Whenever he was getting out of line, why, we’d mention it to
him, see? We’d say, “Well, at least you didn’t let the PC blow out on the
street,” you know? And he’d cringe.
No, it’s a
serious thing. Nov., all he had to have done was just to have blocked the PC’s
leaving. Yes, it was an institutional PC; yes, the girl had been in spin bins
till you couldn’t count; yes, she’d been electric-shocked and all the rest of
it. So what? All he had to have done, all he needed to have done, was simply to
have stopped her going out the door and put her back through CCH 2—through the
next command. And that psychosis was blowing and would have blown. We know by
experience that this is quite common and quite ordinary.
The CCHs
run out electric shocks; they run out surgery; they run out almost anything you
can think of, if they are run right.
The
darnedest physical manifestations turn on. And, of course, the CCH is not flat
at its points of hugest volume of reaction. Your PC doesn’t, oddly enough,
sustain tremendously high volume reaction, and you almost never see a PC
screaming for twenty minutes so that you have to say that it’s flat, don’t you
see, and go on to the nest CCH. Almost never happens.
Neither do
you necessarily wait till he stops screaming and then say it’s flat. Has he
stopped screaming for twenty minutes, you see? That would be the test.
But, of
course, by rule now, what do we mean by flat? We mean the same aspect of the PC
for twenty minutes, which by ne plus ultra; reductio ad absurdum, would be, if
the PC were screaming at exactly C-sharp minor exactly, for twenty minutes,
that is a no-change. So you’d go on to the next process. You got it?
If the PC
is lying on the floor in a funk for twenty minutes, that process is flat. Have
you got it? You’re executing the auditing command, and the PC remains on the
floor for twenty minutes, there’s no aspect change of the PC, so that process,
as far as you’re concerned, is flat. Now, you got that?
Now, how
slight a change is a change? A somatic enters and leaves in that twenty
minutes. Well, that’s not flat. You’ve got to run it for twenty minutes without
the return of that somatic. You got it?
Now, most
CCHs run rather calmly. Most of your CCHing is not done with this tremendous
duress. About the only time that tremendous duress sets in is usually when the
PC is going through something he considers quite painful.
Now, the
CCHs turned it on and the CCHs will turn it off, and that is one of the oldest
rules of auditing: That which turns it on turns it off. What do you think is
going to happen? You’ve got a horrible, strong, beefy process of this
character, and you’ve turned something on with it. Well, when is he going to
get the CCHs run again? See, you didn’t run it on through and turn it off.
Well, that’s a serious thing, you see? That’s a blunder of magnitude.
But it’s
twenty minutes, and it’s by the clock. It’s not about twenty minutes; it’s
twenty minutes, by Greenwich meridian, navigational chronometer, sidereal time.
Twenty minutes. And if there’s no change of aspect in the PC for twenty
minutes, then it’s flat.
Well, what
if the PC, during the whole of the run—nothing happens? PC just offers his hand
and he offers his hand and offers his hand and offers his hand. Nobody said
anything to—you ran it till you got a reaction!
Now, let
me point out something: An E-Meter very often, on a level (and this will fool you
sometime if you don’t know about it, so know about it pretty well)—the E-Meter,
assessed on a level, sometimes for the first three to five hours of run will be
giving you the answer to a flat tone arm. A flat tone arm. It’s giving you less
than a quarter of a division of motion for the first three to five hours, in an
extreme case. Less than a quarter of a division for twenty minutes is the
signal to change to another process, isn’t it? How can you call it flat when it
hasn’t yet begun to bite?
But there
is some motion in the tone arm; there is some motion in the tone arm.
Therefore, it is not flat at the beginning of an assessed level run in Routine
2. In Routine 2 it’s moving an eighth of a division. It moves an eighth of a
division, it almost reaches a quarter of a division, it moves a sixteenth a
division, it moves an eighth a division, it moves almost a quarter of a
division. You get the idea?
Well,
those all say—according to the test—”process flat,” because it’s moving less
than a quarter of a division. Look, how can a process be flat when it hasn’t
begun to run? It can’t be. And you will find—and you needed some subjective
reality on this; you’ll run into it soon enough, because it happens to people
early in processing, particularly on a Routine 2. But it sometimes happens when
you’ve assessed the goal and you’re running on a Routine 3, too. All right.
Here’s
this little creak, creak, creak, you know? And you say, “Well, by all the
rules, it’s moving less than a quarter-division in twenty minutes; therefore,
I’ll come off of it.” And then you say, “Well, the PC was ungratefully spun.”
And the process has not yet begun to run.
Three to
five hours, sometime in that period, all of a sudden it suddenly picks up and
moves a quarter of a division. Now suddenly it moves a half a division. Now all
of a sudden it moves a division. And then it gets down and you say, “Well,
thank goodness, it’s coming on down now, and this level is flattening.” And
it’s only moving about a third of a division, and pretty soon it’ll move a
quarter-division, and then it goes from 1.0 to 6.0 to 7.0 to 5.0 to 3.0 to 4.0
to 2.0, because when they do this, sooner or later they get hot, hot, hot!
Now, the
only danger in overrunning a process, of course, is sticking the tone arm. And
the only danger there is that you stick it for a couple of sessions, and you
can’t reassess. But you could stick it for a half an hour and still reassess.
So if you’re in doubt, while you’re feeling your way over this, go ahead and
stick it!
It’s like
I told Barry Fairburn up at HGC London. He kept telling me, on this one PC, he
said, “Well, it’s just . . . I just . . . when will it ever get flat?” You
know, it had picked up and had gone very slow, and he’d come off it and he’d
reassessed another level in the same afternoon. And of course there I was,
looking right down the telex wire at him.
And I
said, “Ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah!” I said, “With a tone arm doing that
little, the tone arm has not yet begun to move on that level. That tone arm
will beg n to move on that level. So let’s get on the ball here.” And he
promptly and instantly went off of the second one he bad assessed and went back
to run the fat one he had assessed. And much to his amazement, the first one
really started to pick up and fly!
And then
he finally wrote me in desperation, about six or seven hours of auditing later.
He says, “When is this thing ever going to flatten?”
So I said,
“All right now, Barry, you just run it to a stuck tone arm.”
And he
did; it took quite a while, but he ran it to a stuck tone arm, an then
reassessed. Stuck the tone arm for twenty minutes and learned how long you
could run it and what it looks like.
In other
words, this tone arm action, sometimes early in auditing, takes a long time to
get going; and at no time can you consider that flat, because it’s never run
yet. It assessed, so if your assessment was good, it will run. And it may take
three to five hours for it to start to run, and we’ve seen that quite
consistently.
Now,
that’s just one level of the Prehav Scale. Now, let’s apply this same thing to
the CCHs. This is why I’m taking it up.
Now, your
CCHs are run without Model Session and without an E-Meter. We care nothing
about the E-Meter in running the CCHs because the PC is the E-Meter. Just as
you’ve learned to watch the tone arm move, so must you learn in the CCHs to
watch the PC move—the body reaction. It isn’t what the PC says; it is what the
PC is doing and it’s what is happening to the PC. Now, the PC may communicate
to you that certain things are happening, and that’s fine— that’s a change. But
the PC is the E-Meter.
You have
to consider all four of the CCHs as one level of the Prehav Scale, in this
wise, for this purpose: Sometimes the CCHs do not begin to bite. So, what do
you get? You get twenty minutes of CCH 1, followed by twenty minutes of CCH 2,
followed by twenty minutes of CCH 3, followed by twenty minutes of CCH 4,
followed by twenty minutes of CCH 1, followed by twenty minutes of CCH 2, and
followed by 181/2 hours of CCH 3. You got that?
Just as it
takes, on a normal level, a while for a tone arm to pick up and run, so does it
also take a while on some cases for the CCHs to begin to run. But if you sit
there and grind on just one CCH, this won’t happen. And if you don’t run the
CCHs . . .
The reason
why the CCHs were trotted back out of mothballs,-dusted off, the smell of
camphor whisked off the top of them, and put back into the lineup, was because
you had what happened in the CCHs: the person would run up against the withhold
block. In other words, the person would accumulate more responsibility and
become aware of more withholds, and there was no way to get rid of them because
the PC wasn’t being talked to and no rudiments were being run. So the CCH game
was limited by the fact he never had a chance to get his withholds off. Right?
So, in
running the CCHs today, you are going to run a processing check—a standard HCO
WW form. I repeat, no Security Check is permitted to be edited or altered,
changed or added to, period. If it doesn’t say HCO WW Form something-or-other
at the top of it, it isn’t a Security Check. Okay?
And, of
course, you don’t use a Staff Member Security Check—that is to say, a new . . .
one of these new HCO WW Form 6s or something like that —as the repetitive
Security Check for processing, or something like that. It means right what it
says.
You run a
Joburg. You take your most violent versions of Security Check, and you run them
one for one. If the PC is an hour on the CCHs, the PC gets an hour of Security
Check. You got it?
Now, if
you’re really booting somebody over the horizon and just really giving them the
rocket in a mad way, swap their broomstick for a rocket: give them the CCHs
from one auditor and a Joburg from another one. Perfectly feasible. Now, you
can actually go ahead and assess for SOP Goals with a third auditor, all at the
same time.
In the
morning PC gets his CCHs, and in the afternoon he gets assessed for goals, and
in the evening gets a Security Check run on him. How fast can you get a gain?
Well, wait till you’ve tried that one—wait until you’ve tried that one and seen
that one go, because, man, you get a gain. It’s really inevitable.
But the
CCHs are quite powerful, and they throw overts into view quite easily. And the
person who is pegged down gets a little bit of auditing and all of a sudden
these overts start to loom a little large, and they have to get rid of them.
Now, I
don’t want you to run into trouble and I don’t want you to be abused in
auditing, but I hope it happens to you at least once that you get a lot of
wonderful auditing that gives you a beautiful case advance without a Security
Check, and then suffer for two or three days, and it’ll sure make a citizen out
of you. Boy, that gives you a subjective reality, right there.
An
auditing gain without a Security Check—an auditing gain with velocity, you
understand, such as we’re handing out now, without a Security Check to clean it
unhand you’ve really handed somebody a bad time. They just practically start
bleating, you know? “Why am I doing all these horrible things? My life is such
a horrible mess. I have. . .” You know? They didn’t think it was; they were in
a wonderful state of fixed irresponsibility just a day before and then
something got run on them, like Routine 1 or Routine I mean, the CCHs or
assessments on the general scale. And this was run and all of a sudden, there
they are, off to the races.
And you
let them improve and improve and improve and improve, and don’t inquire into
their private lives, because that wouldn’t be nice. You’d practically kill
them.
I don’t
wish you any hard luck, but there’s nothing makes a citizen out of you like
having that happen to you. You get miserable.
So the
CCHs are highly functional as long as they can produce a change in the PC. And
the change in the PC is ordinarily stopped by the fact that the PC can’t get
off his overts. And he’s become more responsible by running the CCHs, and then
can’t get off his overts and so, bang!—that parks his progress on the CCHs.
Now, how
many ways could you park progress on the CCHs? One, you could fail to run Tone
40 auditing. You could go at it in some old crummy way, you know? You got so
used, in the Academy, to putting it into the ashtray that you keep putting the
intention in the ashtray throughout the auditing session, you see? Be pretty
wild.
You run it
sort of permissively. You say, “We shouldn’t be mean to the preclear,” and we
just sit back and we don’t really press it home. And the PC says, “Well, I’m
tired today. And I really don’t feel . . . I really think this CCH 1 is pretty
flat now, and I’m very tired today, and so forth, and I’d rather it wouldn’t .
. . weren’t run. I’d rather you’d go on to CCH 4. I think that was the one I
was interested in.”
Go on to
CCH 4, you’ve had it. Here we go, because you violated C. The first C is
control, the next C is communication and the H is havingness. Control,
communication, and havingness, or communication, control and havingness. Either
way, because you apply control, you get communication; and if you apply control
and get communication, havingness will result. If you communicate with somebody
you can apply control, which will give you havingness. Whichever way this adds
up, the end result is havingness.
Now,
irresponsibility can deny havingness. Irresponsibility, then, is pulled off of
a case by the Security Check, which results in havingness. All O/W results in
havingness. So Routine 1, whether looked at from above, below, plan view, or
projected, gives you havingness. And the final net run of it is havingness.
Routine 2, all the prehavingness buttons, are the things that prevent people
from having. Prehavingness might as well mean “prevent havingness” buttons. But
we don’t call it that because somebody would say the scale was designed to
prevent havingness. And by that overt, of course, they prevent themselves from
having any gain.
Anyhow,
prehavingness, and the end result of patching up somebody’s various buttons on
the Prehav Scale is to give him havingness. And when the individual has
enormous numbers of unrealized goals all over the track, the net result of all
of these all up and down the track was to deny him havingness because he never
attained the goal. So that when you do a Goals Assessment, just the assessment,
the end product of it is havingness. And you’ve got three havingness routines.
Now, all
three routines—you have in these routines the inherent fact that you run O/W on
a preclear and he gets havingness.
Now, why
does he get havingness? Because the individual individuates from things because
he can’t have them. And therefore he develops overts only on those things he
can’t have. And when you get the overts off, he can then have.
Here’s one
of the tests: If you can’t get the havingness of the Havingness and Confront
Process to work, did you know that all you had to do was run some O/W and you
will achieve the same thing?
Supposing
we did this weird one: This is just taking it straight from theory, you see? I
don’t say it’s workable or anything else, but it’s just theoretical. You look
around and you say, “Well, notice that cupboard.” And you say, “Well, have you
ever done anything to a cupboard? Have you ever withheld anything from a
cupboard?” And he recalls one. You say, “Good. Look at that floor; notice that
floor. Now, have you ever done anything to a floor? Have you ever withheld
anything from a floor? Oh, you have. All right. That’s good. Now, notice that
fireplace. Have you ever done anything to the fireplace? Have you ever withheld
anything from a fireplace? Oh, you have. That’s dandy. Very good.”
You didn’t
force him, you see, to have actually done something to fireplaces, and so on,
because some of these will draw blanks. He says “No,” that’s right; you say,
“We’ll go on to the next one.”
And all of
a sudden that room will become the most fantastically real room he ever was in.
Theoretically, that would be the normal outcome of it. You got it? You give him
the environment.
But of
course you have shorthanded ways of doing this with all of those thirty-six
Havingness Processes that you run on a PC objectively in the room. They all
more or less do just this. You see?
So your
routines are all devoted to increasing the PC’s havingness. And they are
devoted to— Routine 1, applying control so as to get him into communication so
that he can have; Routine 2, getting out of the road the fixed reactive buttons
which prevent him from having things; Routine 3, getting out of the road all of
these unrealized goals, each one of which has been a defeat for him at sometime
or another, all of which—any goal—all of which goals had as their end product
havingness. You can’t help but raise his havingness.
Now,
running right along with this you run O/W and get off all of his withholds,
which are preventing him from having. See, he gets the impulse— he can now
have, but he’d better not have because he’s done bad things, and if he had
these things he would ruin them. And therefore, if you don’t get this out of
the road, you’ve left him stuck with the idea that he now could have these
things but he’d better not, and he’s never noticed before now. And it becomes
quite painful to him. He says shame, blame, regret, guilt—oh, he says all kinds
of things, but that’s what it results in. You got it?
So
everything you are doing in auditing at the present moment has the end product
of havingness. And, of course, if you could have the whole ruddy universe, I
assure you it wouldn’t be the least trouble to you, not the least bit of
trouble. It’s only those things you can’t have you have trouble with.
Next time
you have a PT problem, look it over—look it over. And just ponder this: “How
many things are involved with this problem? All right. What blocks off my
having of these things or people?” You’ll see a problem blow up.
You see,
individuation: individuation from the thing, from the object, from the
universe, from the dynamic is what brings about the trouble, because you get
into an obsessive games condition. And an obsessive games condition simply adds up
to the fact that you can’t have it; and it, of course, by your determination,
can’t have anything to do with you.
Had a
fellow around one time who had a games condition going with fire. And my Lord,
that fellow burned up couches and suits and fire just pursued him every place.
He could stand in the middle of a street without a bit of fuel anywhere in view
and have a roaring bonfire almost consume him. And he was in this terrific
games condition with regard to fire.
Now, if
you’d improved his havingness in general, sooner or later along the road you
would have hit the reactive button “fire,” see? What has he done with and to
fire? In some way he’s made it discreditable, in some way he has made it
guilty, in some way he’s become irresponsible for fire.
All of a
sudden, fire no longer has this obsessive chasing effect. Fire just doesn’t
pursue him up and down all the boulevards and through his whole life, you see?
Because fire isn’t pursuing him anyhow: He simply cannot have fire, he cannot
control fire, and he can’t communicate with fire. Soon as he gets into that
condition, wow, he’s had it. Because no matter where fire will occur, he has to
retreat from fire and pull it in on him. See, he’s part of the same universe
this fire’s in, only he hadn’t noticed that.
All right.
Now, the CCHs, then, are no different than the other two routines. Where an
individual is having any difficulty whatsoever with their physiological
beingness, where the individual has been obsessively abused, particularly in
this physiological beingness that they find themselves in at the moment, the
CCHs knock out individuation from the physical beingness. That
physical-beingness individuation has been caused by duress on the part of the
preclear toward his body and by, apparently, his body toward him.
He’s
having difficulty: he can’t get in his head, he can’t come near the body, he
can’t do this, he can’t do that, and therefore, the body is giving him somatics
and he’s having trouble with the body. You’ve got the natural concatenation:
he’s just individuated, that’s all. He’s one thing and the body’s another thing
and he can’t have it.
And of
course the CCHs attack this one particularly, right on the button. It isn’t
necessarily the criteria for running CCHs, but it’s its most immediate and
direct result.
So you
take somebody that’s been given electric shocks. Of course, this has
individuated him from the body, because of his own giving the body electric
shocks of one kind or another. Well, what happens to this fellow? You start
running the CCHs and his havingness on a body starts rising, inevitably. So he
has to become aware of all these electric shocks. So as soon as he becomes
aware of them, they start running out.
All right.
But as soon as they start running out, if he himself takes no further mental
step to find out what he’s done to bodies and get rid of his overts against
bodies, he’s left with the somatics running out—but they stop running out—and
his overts against the body in full bloom. Pow! This hurts.
So you’ve
got to improve a PC’s responsibility if you’re going to improve his havingness,
because he won’t permit himself to have unless he can be responsible for
having. And that’s the other philosophic button on which this rests, which
we’ve known for a very long time. Now, you got this?
So the way
you run the CCHs is directly, immediately and so on, precisely, and you pay
very little attention to the PCs mental reactions. All you do is give him a
demonstration that that body he’s sitting in can be controlled. As soon as he
sits in on this one and says, “You know, somebody’s controlling this body.
Heh-heh. Somebody’s controlling this body. Maybe I can.” And so he’ll try.
Now, if
you let him get up to a point where the body flies out of control and you say
to him, “Well, that’s all right. That’s giving you some trouble. You want to
rush out in the street and not come to session and so forth? Well, go
ahead”—mmmm. you’ve shown him the body can’t be controlled, haven’t you? And he
retrogresses like mad. So you mustn’t do that to him, because it’s a direct
reversal to what you’re trying to do.
You’re
trying to show him that his body can be controlled; a failure to execute the
CCHs show immediately and directly the body can’t be controlled. Of course the
body wins.
Now, all
you’d have to do if you’re going to ruin somebody—I can tell you how to ruin
somebody—is start the CCHs and if the guy says, “Oh, I’m tired of this silly
process, ‘Give me that hand.’ What are we doing? Getting in practice to join
the Elks?”
And you
say, “Well, if you’re tired of it, then we just will go off onto something
else.”
All right.
We go off onto CCH 2 and we march him up and down the room, and eventually he
suddenly throws us off a little bit and says, “You know, this is getting
awfully annoying to me.”
And you
say, “Well, all right. We’ll go on to something else. Now, let’s sit down here
in the chair, and now, you put your hands up there . . .”
“Well, I
don’t know that I want to!”
“Well, all
right. Then here’s this book. All right. Here’s this book and . . .”
Fellow
says, “I never read books. I don’t like books. Don’t want anything to do with
books.”
You say
well, there’s nothing you can do about it, and you go and see the instructor,
the senior auditor, or call somebody long distance, or send them cables from
Johannesburg, you know? And you say, “Well, we have this PC who we can’t make
any progress with, with these CCHs.”
Now, do
you know that you can take Routine 2 and Routine 3 and do— I’m being very hard
on Johannesburg. Actually, Johannesburg is snapping out of it, and I’m very
happy to notice it. I have noticed it. It was sure in the basement for a while.
Well,
anyhow, if you were to do the same thing with any auditing activity, and let
the PC get out of control at each and every turn of the road, you of course are
giving them the side effect of proving it to him that his aberrations are so
strong that they cannot be controlled. And don’t be too puzzled if the PC
eventually becomes practically unauditable.
Don’t be
too surprised, if you fail to exert heavy auditing control during a session, if
the PC starts getting mad at you, chopping you up, doing this, doing that,
doing the other thing; because by not controlling him, by taking his advice all
the time, by asking him “How do you run this process, anyway?” by doing this
and doing that, you have shown him that you are not controlling him in the
session. And showing him that you are not controlling him in the session, of
course, results in the model of “no control” taking over and he himself is
defeated because he sees that he cannot control his mind, he cannot control his
body, he cannot control. That’s true of any auditing process.
That might
give you a new shading on this idea of control. Whereas you would look on it
very bad—I’ve mentioned this to you just the other day.
I was
auditing a PC, actually on a think process, and the PC said, “Oh, I’ve had
enough of that,” and leaped madly out of the chair from a very, very calm, you
know, demeanor, and actually said “I’ve had enough of that” while springing
through the air like an impala. And was springing straight to the door, and in
mid-flight I simply grabbed her by the wrist, turned her around in mid-flight and
brought her back sitting down in the chair—its legs almost spraddled out into a
total splash, you see?—and gave the next auditing command. And that PC began to
run like a doll. Nothing to it, man. And we had that process flat just in no
time.
And you
say, “God, that’s awfully harsh!” No, I wasn’t being harsh to the PC; I was
being rather decent about it. If I’d been mad at the PC, all I would have had
to have done was not reach out and grab her wrist, let her reach the door, and
then not audit her. Oh, pow. She’s had it. She’s had it! She’d go around now in
the total belief, “Well, if Ron can’t control this much aberration and so
forth, it’s uncontrollable,” don’t you see? And “Zzooh! What can poor little me
do about it?” You know, some kind of a stupid rationalization like this, you
know, to herself. She’d go off hiding from herself in corners.
All right.
So she did have a black-and-blue addendum. That was an awful lot better than
having a black-and-blue psyche.
And if you
for a moment think you’re being anything but ornery when you fail to control a
PC in session, get rid of the idea. Don’t get this kindness all mixed up. I saw
I didn’t get through to you too good the other day on the subject of kindness,
but that’s right on the button now. By misguided kindness, you let the PC take
control of the session; by misguided kindness, you let the PC off from
finishing off the somatic; by misguided kindness you consult endlessly with the
PC to make sure that he isn’t displeased with what we are doing; and out of
that misguided kindness, you practically drive somebody to the bottom of a
well.
Be the
most vicious thing you could do to a PC is to fail to control him.
The factor
is so strong that even if the PC is right in his advice’s, you had better not
take it, because he will suffer more from having been run rightly but out of
control, than wrongly in control. Now, do I make myself clear?
Just the
fact that the PC has said, “But this has been flat for days!” And you were just
that moment going to open your mouth and say, “You know, I think this level has
been flat for days!” You were just about to say this. But the fact that he says
it, that’s enough, man. You have no choice but to run it. Why? Because his
announcement of the act throws him out of control. And it is more serious to
let a PC out of control in session than it is to run the wrong process or to
overrun a process. That can’t louse him up, but letting him go out of control
can practically kill him.
So if you
ever want to err, don’t err on the side of sweetness and light, man, err on the
side of the heavy-handed parent; err on the side of the lion tamer; err on the
side of the machine-gunner. Keep the Auditor’s Code, but keep control. And if
you do that, your PCs will never do anything but recover, because the hidden
factor of the CCHs are present in whatever you’re running, even though you’re
doing formal auditing.
“Well, is
it all right with you if I end this process?”
And he
says, “No, it certainly is not!”
And you
say, “What objection do you have?”
And he
says, “Sa-rowr, rowr-rowr, rowr-rowr.” And you say, “All right. Okay. Thank you
very much. Now, I’ll give you two more auditing commands and end this process.”
“Oh, God!
What are you doing to me?”
And you
say, “Have you ever shot the moon? Thank you. Have you ever shot the moon?
Thank you. Is there anything you’d care to say before I end this process?”
And you
know, about that time, if you’ve done the job right, he’ll say, “No, as a
matter of fact I don’t have.”
You say,
“Good. End of process.”
What
happened to the ARC break you knew was going to occur? It wasn’t that he was
knuckled under and overwhelmed—that was not what happened. You say, “What do
you know? This outburst is easily controlled. Look, PC controlled it.”
PC’s
controlled it. “Not only did the auditor control it, I controlled it too.
Heh-heh. What do you know? Tooh! Nothing to it.” Got the idea?
All right
Wrong—wrong way: “Well, is it all right with you if I ask you two more times
and end this process?”
“No, my
God, I will say it isn’t! I’ve got a somatic eight feet thick, and why don’t
you ever pay any attention to your auditing, and what is the matter with you
anyway?”
“Well, how
wide is this somatic? Okay. All right. Well, we’ll carry on the process a
little while longer then, and see if you get rid of it.”
“Well,
you’d better.”
Fifteen
minutes more auditing and you’ve got a real roaring ARC break. What’s the ARC
break over? You did what the guy said. You tried to flatten this terrible
somatic; you were being nice about the whole thing; you were being reasonable
about the whole thing. Well, the test is, did the somatic get better? No, as a matter
of fact, it will always get worse. Always. It’s better to end the process
wrongly on the auditor’s determination than to end it on the PC’s rightly.
Remember that. Of course, it’s a happy chance that you end it rightly on the
auditor’s determination.
Give you a
new viewpoint of this sort of thing?
Audience:
Yeah.
Yeah.
Now, the
auditor is running the session, and if the PC starts running the session,
expect trouble expect trouble, man. It’s not a kind thing to do; it’s a rotten,
mean, dirty, nasty thing to do to a PC. It’s almost covert hostility to do that
to a PC.
PC says,
“Oh, God, you’re not gonna . . . you’re . . . you’re actually . . . no, my God!
You’re not going to run any more ‘failed can’t’!”
And the
auditor says . . . My normal response to such a thing is “What’s the matter?”
And he
says, “Yow, yow, yow, yow, yow! And yow, yow, yow, yow, yow.”
You say,
“No kidding! All right. The auditing command is ‘What have you failed to
can’t?’ ‘Who has failed to can’t you?”’ And he’ll all of a sudden—he’s suddenly
good as gold.
He says,
“Well, it (kmpf, kmpf) wasn’t nat-tarted to run flat.”
The PC can
steer a session wrong on me by being too informative of actually what is the
exact situation, because he opens a gate there that you can’t let him go through.
And he says, “Well, this ‘failed can’t’ has been flat for the last session. I
know it.” And you were just about to open your mouth and say, “This ‘failed
can’t’ has been flat for the last session, I’m sure.”
And he
says, “This ‘failed can’t’ has been . . .” Whooh. Well, here goes a half an
hour of ‘failed can’t.’
In the
first place, I wouldn’t believe it was flat if he was protesting against it.
And the other thing, even if it was flat, it would do him more harm to let him
start running the session than it would be to overrun a process or underrun
one. You got that? It would do him more harm.
Now, many
people have trouble ending sessions, and that’s because they keep consulting
the PC as to “what’s the state of the PC,” so as to determine when the session
should end. And I’ll tell you a good test sometime, is the next time a PC says
to you that the session shouldn’t end, or he has something undone, or he feels
very bad about it, or he hasn’t made his goals, why, that’s just dandy; just
nicely, firmly and pleasantly end the session, and find no ARC break. And
you’ll say, “What happened to the ARC break that we knew was coming?” It didn’t
materialize.
Now, what
happened to it was, this is an effort of a breakout, an effort at a
continuance, and you come along behind the thing and you say, “You see? It
wasn’t necessary to continue it.”
And he
says, “It wasn’t necessary to continue it.”
So the
nest time you have trouble ending a session... This, by the way—a new auditor
on an HGC always, almost always, has this difficulty. They say to the
old-timers, “How can you possibly get your sessions ended by 3:30? How can you
end a session by 3:30?” And the new auditor is staggering out of the auditing
room, you see, at 6:45.
Well,
that’s a sure indicator that the new auditor does not have his PC in control,
because he’s said to the thing, “Now, how do you feel now? How do you feel
about the process we’ve been running, and so forth? How do you . . . how are
you . . . how’s your general health?”
And the PC
says, “Well, it’s pretty bad, actually. My aunt Methuselah matildaed the other
day, and it’s pretty bad.”
And the
new auditor would say, “Well, the poor fellow. Why, we . . . the best . . . the
best thing for him to do is to carry on here and get this matildaing out of the
way.” And so he does that, and then he’ll find something else, and he’ll find
something else and it goes on and on and on. And the PC anises less and less,
and makes less and less progress, and is slowed down more and more, and the
auditor’s getting into more and more trouble, and he wonders, “What on earth is
happening to me?”
Whew. The
only thing that’s happening is, is back there at 3:30 with the tone arm
moving—it could have been, you see, as bad as this. The tone arm was moving on
a rock slam—the tone arm was rock-slamming, you see, not the needle. And 3:30
was about to come around, and he just had time to get in his end rudiments
before he reached 3:30, and he said, “All right. Is it all right with you if I
give you two more commands and end this process?”
“All right
with me? My God, I’m just getting going!”
You say,
“All right. Thank you very much.” Give him two more commands. “Is there
anything you’d care to say before I end this process?”
“Well,
there certainly is. My God, I never saw such horrible bad auditing, and you’re
doing me in,” and so forth.
And you
say, “Good. End of process.” And then you run your end rudiments. “Now, is
there any ARC breaks?” And you expect immediately that you’re going to get your
head taken off, before you get used to this kind of thing, you know? And you’re
sitting there all ready for the meter to blow up. Ah, there’s a little twitch.
And you
say, “What was that?”
“Well,” he
says, “you ended it. You ended the process, and I don’t know if I can ever get
back into it or not.”
“All
right,” you say. “Well, is it all right with you if we take that up tomorrow?”
And you say, “Okay. Now, do you have any ARC breaks?” And there is none. And
you say, “All right. And here we go,” you see, and run off the end rudiments
and that’s it. The PC goes out whistling and everything’s fine, dandy.
But the
new auditor, the new auditor at 6:35, you see, streaked with sweat and coal
dust, comes staggering out of the auditing room, you know, and he says to the
others, he says (who have now assembled for an evening briefing session or
something of the sort), “How do you people do it? You must be terribly cruel.
You must just chop the PC off in the middle of nothing, you know, and you just
must be thinking about yourselves and nobody else, and . . .”
They say,
“Well, I don’t know, we end it, and it never seems to do any harm.” And that’s
the correct way to go about it, that’s all. You run the session.
Now,
that’s very, very observable in the CCHs, but, of course, it carries over into
the remainder of auditing. In the CCHs it is so observable that if you let the
PC start running the auditing session, he will practically spin, and in the
others he just has an ARC break.
You want
to know what an ARC break is? Sometime or another the PC went out of session
and you lost control of the PC. And it sometimes takes as much as an hour to an
hour and a half for that ARC break to materialize in the physical universe.
That is so true that when I get a PC who is ARC breaking (which doesn’t happen
very often, because I do this other one), I say to them, ‘What happened a half
an hour ago?”
“Half an
hour ago? Oh, a half an hour ago. I’m not interested in a half an hour ago.
It’s what’s happening right now. I mean, I’m . . . after all, I feel these
bayonets in my chest and so forth, here.”
“No, what
happened a half an hour ago?”
“Oh, I
remembered a half an hour ago, I—yeah, that’s right. There was something there.
I . . . I remembered about a half an hour ago I’d forgotten to phone my wife at
noon and she’s probably furious with me.” There was your ARC break; didn’t have
anything to do with what you were doing in auditing.
Now you,
not understanding what ARC breaks are, or how to take ARC breaks apart, find
your auditing apparently under criticism all the time from the PC, and then you
try to put your finger on what it is that you are doing wrong in your auditing
so as to set it right. And the truth of the matter is, the only thing you’re
doing wrong in your auditing is not being pig-bullheaded. And a half an hour
after you have broken down and relinquished control of the session, you get an
ARC break and get all this criticism from the PC of your auditing. And that
happens an hour and a half to a half an hour after you have committed the “fox
pass” [faux pas]. And you let them “foxes” through and you’ve had it.
And that’s
what occurs. You got it now?
Audience:
Yes. Hm-hm.
Try
sometime to be overbearingly, stupidly domineering about a session. Just try it
sometime, just for the hell of it! Have the PC make a perfectly reasonable
suggestion, such as “Could I have a break so that I can go to the bathroom?”
and look at him as though he has suddenly stolen the crown jewels. Yes? And
say, “Well, we’ll get a break in an hour or so,” and note the peculiar lack of
an ARC break.
And then
sometime have a PC say this to you, “Well, actually, I don’t quite feel up to
running the process at the moment,” and you say, “Well, we'll do something
else,” and watch the ARC break materialize in an hour and a half to a half an
hour.
You see?
And because it’s an hour and a half to a half an hour afterwards in most cases,
you don’t associate cause and effect, because it’s such prior cause that you
haven’t noticed where you lost control of the session. But the best way to
patch up an ARC break is to find out where you lost control of the session and
reassert control of the session, not Q-and-A with the ARC break! Now, there’s a
real way to patch them up.
So you’re
very graduate in the way of auditors, and you ought to learn that one, and you
ought someday, just for the hell of it, just to find out that it’s true, just
start—as you’re auditing, just be pigheaded about something sometime or other.
Just utter pigheaded. Pick out one of the cartoons they used to draw of the
German army back in World War I, you know, and put it on.
And the PC
has made a perfectly reasonable request. The PC has said, “Can we end the
session by 4:30, because I have a date with a millineuse?”
And look
at him pityingly, you know, and just disregard it utterly. Just make as if— pointedly—he’d
never said a word. You’re going to be charitable; you’re going to disregard
this terrible thing he has obviously done.
Now, to
your way of thinking, that would cause an ARC break. No, the way the ARC break
is caused, you must also do this one—do this other one, see?
Sometimes
a PC says, “Oh, I don’t know if . . . I . . . you . . . God . . . God almighty!
I . . . I don’t . . . I don’t have to run this. You say you found a present
time problem on that meter. Well, look, I’m so tired of having all of my
auditing time wasted on present time problems! Can’t we just skip the present
time problem for once?”
Go ahead.
Skip it. Just knuckle-headedly skip it, pleasantly, and just say, “Well, all
right. Well, if you don’t want to run it, we won’t run it. Okay. Now, let’s
take up the nest one here.” And watch it start to arrive. You can actually
measure it on your clock. The maximum time you will have to wait is one and
one-half hours of auditing, but somewhere, certainly—certainly within an hour
and a half, and in certainly not less than a half an hour, you’re going to have
an ARC break on your hands.
“Your
fingernails are dirty. Your fingernails are dirty. You know, you really ought
to get some training at the local Academy, because if you ran your confronting
a bit better, I’m sure I could make some progress or something. Do you realize
that you have crossed your legs?” Any kind of an ARC break you can think of
that has nothing to do with the price of fish. No, it was right back there.
And you
say, “Well, naturally. We had a present time problem. That’s making him edgy.”
No, that is not what happened. Is you let the PC run his own bank for a moment
and showed him that you were an incompetent, weak schnook. And showed him that
his bank was not controllable, and you’ve proved this to him conclusively that
his bank was not controllable, so what materialized? The simplest thing in the
world materialized: the bank, having been demonstrated to be uncontrollable, of
course becomes uncontrollable. And you get what is commonly called an ARC
break.
And
auditors who have constant, continual ARC breaks with PCs can be rated just
exactly this: no control of PC. PC says, “I am schnooking today,” and the
auditor says, “You poor fellow, so therefore we’re not going to schnook.” You
know, he says, “It’s schnooking. Naturally, we’ll avoid schnooking then. We
won’t get into that nasty field.”
Or the PC
says, “I keep hearing these violins in my ears,” and that sort of thing. And
the auditor is sitting down there just to do one thing, which is to run an
assessed level of the Prehav Scale—get the rudiments in order to run a level of
the Prehav Scale. And the PC knows very well what’s going to happen. And he
says, “Violins in my ears,” you know, “all the time!” and so forth.
And the
auditor says, “Well, is this a present time problem with you?”
And he
says, “It certainly is.”
And the
auditor just goes right on down the line and gets the rest of what he ought to
do and runs the assessment, and we don’t hear anything more about it. And the
violins turn off ‘cause they were part of the level.
But, this
one: The auditor says, “Oooh, violins. Well, we’ll have to do something about
violins. Now, what trouble have you had with violins in your life?” and just
throws the session away. And you’ve got an ARC-breaky PC from that point right
straight on. You got it?
Learn that
one well. Because it’s the difference—no matter what tricks you learn, that one
that I’ve just been talking about, which is very much in keeping with the CCHs,
that one is the difference between auditing and no auditing. You’ve got a black
and white: auditing or no auditing. Auditing, the auditor is in control of the
session with a capital C and a capital T. Got it? All right. Auditing takes
place. Auditor not in control of session, reactivity takes place, because
there’s nobody now in control of the session, so there couldn’t be any
auditing.
And the
easiest way in the world to get rid of auditing is to delete control from an
auditing session. Then the auditor isn’t controlling the session, the PC can’t
control the auditing session, the reactive mind damn well won’t control the
auditing session, so where is the auditing?
Actually,
a lot of your feeling about auditing, or some of your flinches that you
occasionally get about auditing, simply stems from times when you have not
controlled an auditing session; and only then did you come under heavy
criticism from the reactivity of the PC. Only then.
The only
thing that could ever be criticized about any of you as an auditor is that you
do not control a session heavily enough.
So take
your cue from the CCHs and control the rest of auditing the same way, and the
results which you get will be five to ten times as fast as they are right now.
You want to know how to speed up auditing results? Just try it. Okay?
Audience:
Thank you. Hm-hm.
Right-O.
Said my piece. Thank you very much.