I recently had the opportunity to attend Basic in San Francisco from PSI Seminars. (PSI stands for Personal Success Institute, and is pronounced “sigh”, as in the Greek letter.) This is the first in a series of three seminars, roughly totaling a grand sum of $11K and requiring about 21 days of your life. (You can take as much time between seminars as you like, but you get discounts if you sign up sooner.) If you opt in, there’s a serious commitment. To take the Basic will cost you about $600, which is where they weed out crazy people and anyone not interested in further self-exploration.
The creators of the program have cultivated a self-help pyramid scheme with a side of cult-like following. It’s amazing, frightening, and all around intriguing. It’s usually someone close to you that will lure you in, inviting you to one of their graduation ceremonies from one of the three seminars. These graduations are more sales pitch than graduation ceremony. You think you’re showing up to support someone close to you in his accomplishment and you come out having been pressured into signing up for Basic. (Some graduates believe so strongly that the program is what others need, that they will shell out the initial payment for someone else. That’s how I arrived.)
The solution they provide, regardless of what anyone finds wrong with himself, is that we have our parents to blame. In some way, the obviously awful and difficult life we are living now is because of our parents, and where we fall short is also because of them. Busted relationships? You didn’t get along with mom or dad. Fear of commitment? Mom or dad didn’t accept you. Problems with addiction? Mom or dad was an alcoholic. You get the idea. And after they get you to accept and believe in blaming your parents, they ask you stop blaming your parents. “You have the power now to choose. Choose not to carry resentment, which leads to resistance and revenge.” Holy crap, everyone is cured.
But wait, there’s more. We can’t really cure ourselves in just four days. If you want the healing to stick, you must sign on to the next show, where you can go deeper and really break up the programming we and our parents spent so many years putting into our heads. A lot of the time during the first four days is used selling the next seminar, and telling everyone how great it is. To reinforce this statement, graduates from the programs are available all weekend (volunteering) to answer questions and support you in your decision to sign on to PSI Seven, the next seminar.
Obviously their tactics aren’t as blatant as I’ve made them to be, but I use exaggeration to make a point. It’s an emotionally exhausting weekend for many people. You’ll laugh, dance, chat, sing, connect, and cry. The facilitators are preying on people who, a) believe they have lost control of their lives, and b) people that think they don’t belong anywhere. Many leave the first class believing they’ve scratched the surface to recovery, and they want to break all the way through. Handing over a few thousand dollars for this is a very small price to pay, and you’ll make some friends along the way.
I’ll tell you what, and here’s the deal — rather than shelling out a bunch of cash and throwing away valuable days of your life, invite me to coffee, buy me an Americano, and ask me to listen before I respond. It’s the best gift I could ever give you. OR you can watch the Last Lecutre by Randy Pausch . (Randy passed away July 25, 2008, and this lecture made it on to the Google Search home page. It’s that good.)
Let me wrap this up as plainly as possible: I am not a fan of PSI Seminars. Stay away.