Isometrics And Hope Molecules

Yesterday, I went to the market to pick up a few items and got into the express line right behind a rather imposing woman. While we waited in line for the checker to finish bagging the front person’s order, I couldn’t help but notice her cart was loaded to the brim with 4 or 5 large packets of toilet paper and down on the floor was a tiny forlorn dog all wrapped up in its leash.

“I have a complaint to make!” said the woman to the checker when her turn arrived. This line is for 15 items or less…and that woman you just checked out had 16! I counted them. What kind of a store is this? 

“Well,” said the checker, “we usually let people go by even if they have a few more items.”

“It says right there, 15 items or less!” pointing to the sign above the cash register. “It’s your job to uphold that standard,” she said in a very loud, angry voice. “Can’t you count? You probably flunked kindergarten!  This IS the express line, for people in a hurry, isn’t it? I want to talk to the manager.”

I noticed the checker’s eyes well up with tears of frustration as she called for the manager who arrived shortly along with a security guard who stood imposingly off to the side, in full regalia with what looked like a hand grenade hanging from his belt. “Let me check you out and let you get on your way,” said the manager. “Just hold on,” said the woman, as she started fishing through her large purse, “I have coupons,” and with that she handed over a large clump of crumbled papers. 

“I’m sorry,” said the manager, as she unfolded the tangled mess, “but we can only use one coupon per order.”

“What kind of clown store is this!” said the woman, her voice rising in indignation, “You count…then you don’t count…who knows what else you do!  I’m never shopping here again! And I’m going to report you to corporate headquarters AND to the CEO of Charmin!” And with that, she maneuvered her small iceberg of toilet tissue toward the door, dragging her little dog behind her. 

There was a notable sigh of relief from the few stalwart customers who stayed in the express line during the confrontation. What an angry person, I thought to myself, while the manager who now took over the post, dramatically rolled her eyes as she checked me out.

The incident brought to mind a book I read many years ago called “You Are Not the Target,” written in 1964 by Laura Huxley, a prominent psychotherapist who was married to Aldous Huxley, the author of “Brave New World.”

The title itself is so telling, you hardly need to read the book, which is made up of 33 healing “recipes,” each meant to beautify, illuminate, or teach us how  to transform negative energy into positive, radiant health through a variety of exercises, including isometrics.

Huxley considers, “You Are Not the Target,” (the same title as the book) as one of her most important recipes because it can be used numerous times a day to override a variety of stressful situations, even though the recipe’s main focus centers on the occasion where, for no apparent reason, you become the target of someone’s misplaced anger.

It’s a kind of anger directed at you as a proxy target after someone experiences a long line of frustrating events, or even when, as Freud suggested back in the 1920s, you may be chosen as a safer/weaker recipient who could face dire consequences (like losing a job) if you returned the anger.

In many primitive societies, writes Huxley, transference of energy was well understood, and aggression using physical movement—like stomping on the ground or hacking down a tree—to release anger and aggression was utilized.

Huxley’s recipe, “You Are Not the Target,” takes into account the idea of releasing negative energy through physical means but more suited to city life, and as an added benefit, tones and beautifies the body.

The recipe consists of a series of isometric exercises where you contract and release a muscle or muscle group in the rhythm of your choice, which according to Huxley, releases negative energy while at the same time tones the body. It makes you feel better and elevates your mood.

“The first step of the recipe is to choose in advance what part to of the body you want to strengthen and beautify,” she writes. “It could be any number of areas, like your chest or abdomen.”

Huxley uses the thighs as an example and suggests having the area in your mind ready for use when you need it. So when someone hurls verbal anger in your direction, she writes, “Take that bolt of negative energy and direct it with your mind into the muscles of your thighs. Tighten—hold—and let go. Tighten—hold—and release. Tighten—hold—let go—and beautify.”

“This recipe is very versatile, for the many stresses of life…” writes Huxley. It can be used when you get a letter from the IRS, or someone cuts you off in traffic, or you’re at your job and someone starts yelling at you. Convert the energy and beautify and…as there are no outward signs of movement, no one knows you are converting.

The recipe is also effective on negative past memories. “Relive the moment of unpleasantness and immediately convert it into rhythmical contraction and relaxation. It is an extremely beneficial recipe,” writes Huxley, “and since there are so many instances during the day where it can be used, you can effortlessly get in an hour of exercise without costing you a moment of time.”

Throughout her writings, her opinion becomes apparent that we owe it to ourselves (almost as a duty) to take good care of our bodies and to also get rid of negative energy as soon as possible. 

Before she became a psychotherapist, Huxley was a concert violinist and dancer who liked to hang by her knees from a large tree branch (to release negative energy) in the back yard of the house she shared with Aldous, high up in the Hollywood Hills. She also did yoga and was firmly focused on the health benefits of exercise.

Huxley was also a visionary, much like her husband Aldous. We now know, 60 years later, that when we contract our muscles, as she suggested in the recipe ‘You Are Not the Target,’ they release chemicals into the blood known as myokines. These small proteins, also called “hope molecules,” are natural anti-depressants that travel to the brain, cross the blood-brain barrier and make us feel better. Her husband Aldous who tried many of her recipes wrote in the forward, “These recipes work. I have tried them on myself and they are very effective.”