As today is Halloween, here’s a bewitching horror story to sink your teeth into:

Maybe you’ve heard of The Salem Witch Trials.

We’re going back a few years now to the 1690s and a place called Salem Village in Danvers, Massachusetts. 

One day, two girls called Abigail and Betty started behaving oddly and having spooky fits. The local doctors gave them the once over and decided that witchcraft was at play.

Suspicion quickly spread.

The girls pinned the blame on a lady called Tituba. Then two more ladies were accused, then a couple more. Soon all the villagers were accusing each other of being witches. 

Then panic and hysteria swept through Salem. 

After all, it was very difficult for anyone to figure out who was a witch and who wasn’t. Any villager accused of being a witch would deny it. Then the accuser would wag their finger and triumphantly claim “Aha! That’s just what a witch would say!”

It was basically one big horror show and very similar to watching BBC’s The Celebrity Traitors (there’s no spectacle more haunting than Celia Imrie unleashing a ghostly gust in a creaky cabin…)

Anyway, the Salem fiasco is just like some weekday evenings when I return to Fort Grundy after a horrifying day at work.

Not because Lozzadog Lauren is menacingly pointing her broom at me for leaving muddy footprints in Fort Grundy’s Great Hall.

But because sometimes I fall into a similar trap to the Salem villagers. It’s a trap where I start grumbling to Lauren about how I was volunteered for another frightful “stretch opportunity” or how someone booked a “quick catch-up” with me that lasted a gruesome 55 minutes. And I’ve noticed the more I grumble, the more I get into a grouchy headspace. Then the more I get reminded about the other ghastly parts of my job, and the nightmare feeds on itself from there.

It’s the same self-validating spiral as Salem.

But I also know when I decide to drop this doom & gloom attitude and tell Lauren about the fun parts of my day or what went right instead of wrong, work looks better. It’s more nourishing to do this too. So I feel better. And that same light-hearted energy snowballs between me and Lauren so we BOTH end up feeling cheerier and chattier.

And that’s a nice place to be.

Of course, there’s always some grisly stuff that needs to be talked about.

But when I stop hunting for witches, it’s easier to break that wicked spell.

Happy Halloween!

To fulfilment,

Tom

p.s. there’s 4 hours until I close the cart on the “I’ll help you de-stress now or I’ll buy you a pizza” offer I made yesterday:

Calm On Demand

The cauldron lid slams shut at 2pm UK time / 10am EDT / 7am PDT.  

If that sounds like your kind of thing, all the details are in yesterday’s email.