I found a solution, with hard objective, scientific, brainscan evidence to support it. In particular, you don’t have to believea whole bunch of nostrums before it’ll work. But it may not mean much to you, not because you’re stupid or too clever, but simply because the bit of your brain you need to use, is on the blink. You get so close, but the last bit keeps slipping through your fingers, as if your thinking machinery just decides to give up, to throw in the towel, it suddenly gets too weary to go the last inch. So you watch others, less bright than you, less well endowed, skipping along as if without a care in the world — BUT however hard you THINK, it never seems to click. And most of the advice you hear, is either obvious rubbish, or wishful thinking, or out to screw you.
So stop all that, try a different angle, and put your intellect to work to follow a novel line of reasoning — one that is entirety shame-free, dollar-free, but makes obvious sense. Suppose you had a stroke, a CVA (Cerebro Vascular Accident). It happens. Suddenly your left arm doesn’t work anymore. Or your speech centre muddles your words. However hard you struggle, the words come out upside down. An excellent description of this in action, is in TheGirl Who Played With Fire,chapter 8 — check it out. There’s no shame about this — the nerves to your arm, or the connections to your speech centre are on the blink, they no longer carry out your instructions. Fork-hits-nose, is how I summarise it — our heroine watches her hero try to feed himself, but the food on his fork keeps missing his mouth — it happens.
Note carefully. There’s nothing “wrong” with her hero — it’s just that that particular nerve pathway has been blocked. It’s not something he’s done, his “guilty” secret — if only he’d been more careful — none of this. However hard he tries, his fork just won’t go where he wants it to. We accept this, and to a degree he accepts it. Nothing shameful. Nothing to do with how clever, or how stupid he is — it’s what’s happened.
See that — however hard he tries. Normally laziness accounts for it, some deficiency in motivation — but not with CVAs — they’re just blocked. It’s painful to see capable individuals crippled in this way — they’re obviously trying, yet the harder they try, the more frustrating it becomes. You can see how easily this could lead to depressions.
Now all I do is invite you to compare his disabilities with those that have been attributed to being too clever. The same inabilities are there. The same blockages. The same futilities that continue to apply however hard you struggle. Note, I haven’t asked you to believe anything, to grasp an impossibly vague notion — just read what it’s like to have a CVA, and see if you can see the parallels.
And the point? Well her hero responds to intense physiotherapy. Yes, he does. And so do so many people with CVAs, that it’s quite commonplace. People believe in physiotherapy — not because of some fanciful psychological theorem, but because it works, it can be seen to work, and people welcome the benefits it brings. It’s hard work. It relies on a number of unusual factors being present, but when they are, it works. Check it out.
And my conclusion? If ordinary physiotherapy can lubricate cortical blockages, which everyone can see — what if there were a similar way to unblock other “blockages”? You could call it Verbal Physiotherapy. In fact that is what I do call it. And if you want to spend $2, you can read all about it in an ebook.