Basketball cybernetics

The unlikely beginnings of a lifelong journey

I was reading something recently that mentioned Psycho-Cybernetics, Maxwell Maltz’s revolutionary book on the psychology of the self-image. A little bell rang in the back of my mind and I said, “I should read that book again.” I remembered having gotten it out of the local library in Flint, Michigan when I was a teenager and being fascinated by the author’s premise and methods. It may have been the first “self-help” book I ever read and it was definitely a huge influence on my life’s journey.

It was also controversial for me to be reading such things. See, I grew up in a midwestern “Christian” family. Went to Christian schools from kindergarten through high school. Went to church twice on Sunday and once on Wednesday, and attended a Bible-verse memorization program for kids on Mondays.

In this environment, the vast majority of the people were highly suspicious of any program or philosophy of self-improvement that was not explicitly “Bible-based.” Methodologies that worked on the level of the subconscious or unconscious mind were especially problematic, ostensibly because we would be opening doors to the unconscious that Satan and his minions could exploit to creep in and mess us up.

That fear isn’t without some justification. I’m much more wary of rituals that invoke any kind of deity, angel, or ‘channeled’ entity than I was a decade ago, having learned from experience that there are indeed many forces in the world that want to use us for their own purposes while masquerading as helpful entities.

Still, it seemed to me that Jesus would be totally on board with learning how to improve our mastery of mind through meditation or visualization exercises. But it’s hard to describe to anyone who hasn’t grown up in that kind of environment how afraid most of the people were of their own minds.

Come to think of it, though, it isn’t just fundamentalist Christians who are terrified to look into the mind.

The Christians suppressed the fear of the mind by constantly pumping themselves up with Bible quotes, sermons, and devotional readings; the more secular members of the populace employ ever-present streams of TV, podcasts, streaming sites and social media to drown out their thoughts and avoid having to look into what’s actually in their own minds.

From plastic surgeon to self-improvement revolutionary

Working as a cosmetic surgeon, Maltz noticed that when he corrected patients’ facial deformities many of his patients seemed to become a whole new person. Free of their presumed physical ‘ugliness,’ they succeeded in business where they had always failed, found love where they had always been alone, and often magically became happy and successful people.

But some patients, even after successful facial surgery, remained stuck in the negative patterns of behavior and low self-esteem that had led them to seek plastic surgery in the first place.

Maltz realized that these patients must have been burdened by some sort of internal programming that prevented them from embracing their new life after their external appearance had been restored to normalcy.

This fascination would lead him on a quest to understand the self-image and, eventually, to embark on a new career of sharing what he had learned and teaching people how to change their self-image and live more abundant and fulfilling lives.

“The most important psychological discovery of this century is the discovery of the ‘self-image,’” Maltz wrote. “This self-image is our own conception of the ‘sort of person I am.’ It has been built up from our own beliefs about ourselves. But most of these beliefs about ourselves have unconsciously been formed from our past experiences, our successes and failures, our humiliations, our triumphs, and the way other people have reacted to us, especially in early childhood. From all these we mentally construct a ‘self’ (or a picture of a self). Once an idea or a belief about ourselves goes into this picture, it becomes ‘true,’ as far as we personally are concerned. We do not question its validity, but proceed to act upon it just as if it were true.”

What Maltz learned is that the self-image actually controls our thoughts, feelings, behaviors, and even our abilities. “In short, you will ‘act like’ the sort of person you conceive yourself to be. Not only this, but you literally cannot act otherwise, in spite of all your conscious efforts or willpower.”

That’s my emphasis. This is a radical understanding of how the mind works and it’s something that most people still don’t grasp. The self-image — this collection of beliefs, limitations, and attitudes that resides below the level of the conscious, reasoning mind — prescribes what is possible for us to do in life.

If we consciously set a goal that is at odds with the self-image, we will not be able to achieve that goal, no matter how beneficial it would be for us to achieve it. Because that’s not the sort of person we are. The good news, as Maltz found out, is that the self-image can be changed. And, when we succeed in changing it, we are able to accomplish goals and make positive changes in our lives that previously seemed impossible.

The basketball loophole

Maltz’s book had a huge impact on me. As many of you know, I’ve spent my adult life learning to heal my own self-image and helping others heal theirs. I could say that discovering Psycho-Cybernetics as a teenager led me to most of the modalities I’ve studied and mastered as an adult — hypnotherapy, visualization, belief work, sound healing, meditation, healing trauma, and more.

But how did I discover this work and why was I so passionately interested in it when reading about it (let alone practicing it) went so hard against the grain of my family/social environment?

Basketball was the unlikely key.

When I was a teenager, I loved sports. I wanted to be an NFL quarterback when I grew up but my little school didn’t have a football team. Fortunately, I loved basketball almost as much as football.

We moved to Flint in the second half of my sixth grade year. The house we moved into had a basketball hoop mounted on the roof of the garage in the driveway.

This was in the early 1980s, a golden age of pro basketball when Dr. J and the Philadelphia 76ers, Larry Bird and the Boston Celtics, and Magic Johnson and the L.A. Lakers were the top teams in the league. Pretty soon the hometown Detroit Pistons with Isaiah Thomas would be in the mix, too.

After church on Sunday, I’d watch the NBA game on TV and then go out into the driveway for hours trying to emulate Dr. J’s fluid one-hand drive down the lane, Larry Bird’s turn-around baseline jumper, or Magic Johnson’s spin move.

I made the junior high team in 8th grade but I didn’t play much. (Our school was so small that if you wanted to join a team, you could usually get selected, even if just to fill out the bench.) I had the heart and the physical fitness and the desire but I couldn’t shoot to save my life.

I was born cross-eyed and when I was a little kid I had corrective surgery (interesting resonance with Maxwell Maltz I don’t think I’d made until just now). The surgery kept my eyes from crossing but it destroyed my depth perception.

I was a little above average height for my age and I worked hard and became a pretty good defender. But it was hard to see how I was going to become an every-game player, let alone a basketball star, because in basketball the object is to put the ball through the hoop and score more points than the other team.

I kept practicing in the driveway and up at the basketball court near our house. And I decided I was going to go for the junior varsity team in 9th grade. Which happened to be the year that Bob Adams (one of my classmates’ dads) became the new JV coach.

If I remember correctly, the former JV coach (also a student’s father) had to switch his job from first to second shift that year. The school was going to have to can the JV program for the year, and then Mr. Adams said he would be willing to coach us.

Mr. Adams wasn’t a universally popular pick. He didn’t go to church very often (or he went to a different church than the one connected to our school), and he was definitely not the pious type. He was a short, fiery man with an exuberant nature, a hot temper, and a passion for excellence. He was not interested in small church school politics and I would definitely say he loved basketball way more than he loved religion.

Mr. Adams was definitely not everyone’s cup of tea. But he changed my life, profoundly. He set me on a path of winning the first conference championship in our school’s history and being named to the all-conference and all-state teams as a senior. And he opened a door for me that led to much of the joy and success I’ve enjoyed as an adult.

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In the next post: How I became “a junkyard dog” and learned to Let It Happen….