Bind-whap

A One-Word Fix Toward Eliminating Negativity

It took a while to realize the impact the long-ago lesson would have on me.

It seemed minor then. Even became something of a joke between my childhood best friend and me — an excuse to smack each other on the back of the head while loudly yelling a single word: Bind!

When this magic word came along, I was a scrawny mouse of a teenager. A backwards bit of a nerd. Always reading or writing or riding my ten-speed. Regularly left out or ignored, even in small group situations. Most classmates referred to me as “Kurt’s sister” rather than someone with her own actual name.

Not only was I invisible, but invisible while living in Nitro — a town best known at the time for the way it smelled (not good), while it seemed kids most everywhere else were blessed with so many more options.

So, I believed I was too dull to be noticed. Too unattractive. Too unremarkable. And lived in a town that was the unappealing equivalent of me.

And then a single word changed my channel.

It happened when my best friend Valerie and I were attending a camp workshop where participants were challenged to call each other out if we heard someone say something negative. It didn’t matter if the person was talking about themselves or someone else or just a general thing, we were to yell the word “bind!” to call attention to the negativity. I honestly don’t recall the reason behind that particular word, but the instructor’s belief was that pessimistic thoughts hold us back, make us frightened and ungrateful and unhappy, and most people don’t realize how frequently this kind of thinking occurs. The callouts were needed if we wanted to change.

Valerie and I took it a step further by adding a somewhat violent whap to the back of the head along with each screeched “Bind!”

The bind-whap combination was effective. By the end of the week, if something negative slipped from my lips, I would flinch — even if Valerie wasn’t around. After the conference, we continued the practice. Over time, it prompted me to quit beating myself up over things I couldn’t change; quit taking setbacks or perceived rebuffs personally. Even Nitro was transformed. It became my Mayberry.

My life seemed filled with possibilities instead of impossibilities.

I saw what I had. Not what I didn’t.

It was a gift. One that has lasted for years.

Sometimes, though, I notice my channel trying to flip back for another watching of the old negativity show, and I have come to realize this is usually influenced by those I’m around. Most of us have known someone who seems to enjoy their misery, who takes pride in being offended and keeping count of the times they’ve been dumped on by life. I try to be cognizant of who I spend time with because of my tendency to chameleon, to avoid being pulled into their swamp.

It’s said that the plant you fertilize is the one that will grow. Once the roots of negativity are set, they’re tough to weed out. So, why feed it?

I realize there’s no once-size-fits-all aha moment. What clicked for me might just be empty words to someone else.

All I know is bind-whaps worked in a big way for me once. And I can’t see how it could hurt to try it again.