He never looked at his hands…
My father, a good man, had some interesting eccentricities - usually around topics like tea, amateur radio, and the unquestioned superiority of all things British.
My mother was also eccentric, though nowhere near as interestingly strange as my dad. She was obsessed with avoiding snakes (that could be anywhere) thought teaching me to do the Charleston would somehow get me through the self-conscious horrors of my first dance, and once bought me a woodburning kit- essentially an apartment blaze, waiting to happen.
I once watched my dad searching for his keys, which were actually in his hand. It was astonishing. He kept passing them from hand to hand while his free hand plunged into every pocket, coming up empty. He never looked at his hands.
Sometimes, we already have the key we’re looking for…
When I was about eight or nine, I read a book about Houdini, the great magician and escape artist. Inspired, I challenged my friends to lock me in my bedroom. Using a trick I’d found in the book - sliding a newspaper halfway under the door and pushing the key out of the lock with a bit of wire - I caught the key on the paper, pulled it through, and made my dramatic escape. My friends were amazed.
But the most fascinating story in that book was about Houdini himself, locked in a police jail cell as part of a test. The officials shut the door and left the room, so as not to discover the secret of his magic. Like my old friend Stevie Starr, Houdini was a regurgitator; he could swallow a set of lock picks, be strip-searched by a doctor, and quietly bring them back up when needed.
But this time, something went wrong.
He leaned through the bars, working the unseen lock by feel, switching picks, trying every trick he knew. Nothing.
He applied more force to attempt to move the lock’s mechanism, and after what felt like an eternity of failure and frustration, he paused to think, and leaned against the door.
It swung open.
They’d forgotten to lock it.
His captivity was an illusion.
Sometimes, we can’t find the key because we already have it. Other times, we feel trapped, but a bit of situational awareness shows us the way out.
But whether literal or metaphorical, the key still has to fit the lock. And even when it fits, it might take a bit of jiggling before the door opens.
Because often, when you feel trapped, you aren’t really. You just haven’t put the key in the lock yet.
And occasionally… The door was never locked at all.
You just never thought to try the handle.
In hypnosis, we see this all the time. People come in convinced they’re stuck - trapped by grief, anxiety, trauma, indecision. But within minutes of trance, something shifts. They see the key. Or remember they’ve had it all along.
Sometimes it’s a forgotten strength. Sometimes it’s a reframe that clicks everything into place. And sometimes the unconscious mind quietly solves it, sliding the bolt open with a solution so simple, you wonder why it didn’t occur to you earlier.
So if something in your life feels locked up right now - whether it’s a situation, a habit, or just a stubborn thought pattern - pause for a second.
And check your hands.
You might be holding the key already.
- Mike Mandel
(Chris here: Did you know that Mike's entire "Mandel Trilogy" hypnosis bundle is included in the Brain Software Syndicate. The price to join is ridiculously low.)