Anthony Robbins AWAKEN THE GIANT... - Lemma Coaching

daily basis. These two people are the epitome of integrity. Their metaphor for humanity is that of "one
giant family," and as a result they feel the deepest caring and compassion even for complete strangers.
I remember when Martin shared with me the moving story of how his life changed years ago while he
was making Apocalypse Now. Before that time, he had seen life as something to fear. Now he sees it
as an intriguing challenge. Why? His new metaphor is that life is a mystery. He loves the
mystery of being a human being, the wonder and sense of possibility that
unfolds with his experience of each new day.
What changed his metaphor? Intense pain. Apocalypse was shot deep in the jungles of the Philippines.
The shooting schedule was normally Monday through Friday, and usually on Friday night, Martin and
Janet would make the two-and-a-half-hour drive for a weekend "retreat" in Manila. On one weekend,
though, Martin had to stay for an additional Saturday morning shoot. (Janet had already committed to
going into town to purchase a glass eye for a crewman who was so poor he was unable to buy his own,
so she went ahead.) That night, Martin found himself alone, tossing and turning, perspiring profusely,
and beginning to experience intense pain. By morning he began to have a massive heart attack.
Portions of his body became numb and paralyzed. He fell to the ground, and through nothing but the
sheer power of his will, crawled out the door and yelled for help. Lying there on the ground, he said he
actually had the experience of dying. All of a sudden, everything felt calm and smooth. He could see
himself moving across the lake and the water in the distance. He thought to himself, "Oh, this is what
dying is," and it was then that he realized that he wasn't afraid of dying, that he had really been afraid
of life! In that moment, he realized that life itself was the real challenge. Instantly, he made the
decision to live. He mustered every ounce of energy he had left, pushing his arm out to grab some
grass.
With total focus, he slowly pulled it up to his nose. He could barely feel a thing. The moment he
smelled the grass, the pain came back, and he knew he was alive. He kept fighting.
When the crewmen discovered him, they were sure he would die. Both the looks on their faces and
their comments made Martin question his own ability to make it. He began to lose his strength.
Realizing there was no time, the top pilot on the Apocalypse crew risked his own life and flew the
helicopter sideways through thirty- to forty-knot winds in order to get him to the hospital in town.
Upon arriving, he was put on a stretcher and wheeled into the emergency room, where he continued to
receive both subliminal and overt messages that he was going to die. He was becoming weaker with
each moment. Then Janet came in. All she'd heard was that he'd had a heat stroke, but then the
doctors informed her of the graveness of his condition. She refused to accept it—she knew that Martin
needed strength; she also knew she had to break his pattern of fear as well as her own. She took
immediate action, and accomplished it all with one statement. When he opened his eyes, she smiled
brightly and said, "It's just a movie, babe! It's only a movie!" Martin said that in that moment he knew
he was going to make it and began to heal. What a great metaphor! Instantly, the problem didn't
seem so grave—it was something he could handle. "A movie certainly isn't worth having a heart attack
over" was the implied message, but also, subliminally, I believe the metaphor cut even deeper. After
all, the pain you're experiencing when you make a movie never lasts. It's not real, and at some point