Your Mind Is a Very Serious Guy – Let’s Outsmart It
How tiny “Miracle Games” or Miracle Work dissolve emotional baggage faster than therapy, journaling, or willpower — without getting into the story.
✨ A blog post from our Sage Samuel Cremer and Miracle Work
Bring one small annoyance to this article. You’ll need it.
The Problem With Trying to Think Your Way Out of a Feeling
You’ve read the books. You understand the pattern. And you still feel it.
That loop — insight without relief — is one of the most exhausting places a person can live. It’s not that you’re doing it wrong. It’s that the tool most of us reach for — logic, analysis, re-processing the story — is fighting on the wrong battlefield.
Here’s what Samuel Cremer, developer of Miracle Work, discovered after spending years (and around €150,000) testing every therapy, coaching approach, and healing method he could find:
The actual shift never happens through understanding. It happens in a single instant — a strange, clear moment where something that felt painfully real suddenly loses its grip.
His life’s work has been reverse-engineering that moment. The result is Miracle Work: a collection of precisely designed, playful tools he calls Miracle Games — and this article gives you three of them to try right now.
Why Your Mind Resists Change (and What It Can’t Defend Against)
Picture your mind as a deeply serious guy at a desk, brow furrowed, building your entire reality with total gravity. He takes your problems extremely seriously — that’s his job — and he is brilliant at defending them.
Try to argue a painful thought away with logic and he’ll out-debate you every time. He’s got footnotes. He’s got childhood evidence. He’s got a folder.
But here’s his one weakness: he cannot handle a question that’s too simple and too absurd to take seriously. Hand him one of those, and for a split second he loses the thread — and in that gap, the thing he was so certain about quietly slips out the back door.
Miracle Games work precisely in that gap.
Before You Play: Two House Rules about Miracle Work
Start small. Pick something that rates a 3 or 4 out of 10 — the colleague who annoyed you, the comment still itching, the driver from Monday still renting space in your head. Learning to juggle starts with balls, not chainsaws.
You don’t have to believe any of this. Belief is not the entry fee. The only ask is that you actually play — and then check, honestly, whether something moved. Your experience is the judge, not me.
Game 1: Take It to the Judge
Rate your small annoyance, 0 to 10. Write the number down.
Now picture a courtroom. You’re called to the stand — and finally, you get to present your case in full. Every screenshot, every witness, every “and then they had the nerve to…”. Lay it all out, with as much drama as you can muster. Do not be reasonable. Be the most gloriously aggrieved version of yourself.
The judge — wise, unhurried, completely beyond appeal — listens to all of it. Then lifts the gavel and rules:
“You are completely right. The way you think about it. The way you feel about it. One hundred percent right. Gavel down.”
Notice what happens.
A painful feeling is almost always braced for an argument — clutching its evidence, certain nobody will agree. Hand it total confirmation from the highest authority in the room, and suddenly there’s nothing left to push against. The one thing it was fighting for — to be right — it just got, in full. So it can finally set the folder down.
Re-rate, 0 to 10. For many people the charge simply deflates — huh, that’s all it wanted?
One rule that makes or breaks it: the judge has to agree completely. A grudging “ninety percent” leaves just enough resistance to argue with. It’s all or nothing.
Game 2: The Cosmic Conspiracy
Same small annoyance. Rate it again.
Imagine that everyone and everything in the universe secretly conspired to gift you the experience of that exact feeling — this one, today. Every person involved, every badly-timed email, every traffic light. A coordinated operation with one mission. They had meetings about it. There were spreadsheets.
Now ask the one question that does the work: How impressively well did they pull it off?
Take it in. They nailed it. Flawless execution. Feel their side of it for a second — the quiet backstage high-five: “We did it. Mission accomplished.”
Notice the shift. For most people there’s an absurd little flicker of — almost pride? A weird “well, you got me” exhale. That exhale is the resistance letting go. You were braced against the experience; the game tricks you into applauding it instead. You can’t brace and applaud at the same time.
One of Samuel’s clients came to a session furious about a former business partner — a deal that had gone badly sideways three years prior. It still replayed in his head almost every week, charging at a 9 out of 10.
Samuel asked: “If the whole universe had secretly conspired to create this exact feeling in you, how perfectly would it have pulled it off?”
The man laughed. Then checked again. The charge had dropped to a 2.
“The story still makes sense,” he said. “But somehow it no longer has its hands around my throat.”
Re-rate. Notice what your own numbers say.
Game 3: The Comically Large Teacup
Take the same annoyance, or a fresh one. Rate it 0 to 10.
Picture your problem as a teacup sitting on the table in front of you. A nice, normal, fully-justified teacup of upset.
Now — clunk — set down next to it a teacup the size of a bathtub. Absurdly huge. Towering over the little one.
Look at your original teacup again. How big is its drama now, next to the giant?
For most people it does this involuntary little shrink: oh. Right. It’s a teacup. It only looked enormous because it was the only cup on the table.
(If teacups aren’t your thing: imagine your feeling as a lightbulb glowing at 5 watts, then switch on a 1,000-watt floodlight right beside it. Same effect. Your 5-watt crisis suddenly looks somewhat more adorable.)
Re-rate. Notice the shift.
Bonus One-Liner of Miracle Work (Too Good to Leave Out)
Take any problem and ask, with a completely straight face:
“How did this problem feel, way back, about one week before it came into existence?”
Wait. Re-rate. Don’t think too hard about it — just feel.
“Wait — Is This Just Distraction? Or Denial?”
Fair challenge. Here’s the honest answer.
These are models, not truths. The universe didn’t really conspire against you. Your sadness isn’t literally a teacup. The games use deliberately absurd images — and some very precise principles of how emotional change actually works — to loosen your grip for a moment. The story is a tool. The relief is the point.
And it is the opposite of denial. Denial is effort — you have to keep holding the lid down, and it pops back the second you’re tired. When a Miracle Game truly works, you go looking for the bad feeling afterward and find you can’t get it back, no matter how hard you poke. That’s not suppression. That’s the splinter actually being out.
Which is the real test, every time: after a game, try to make yourself feel the old way on purpose. If you can’t — you’re done. If you can — the splinter is still in there a bit, so try again or use a different game. No single game has to work every time. You get better at it quickly. That should take most of the pressure off.
Who Created Miracle Work, and Why?
Samuel Cremer began studying the Lefkoe Method and, being a lazy student in the best possible way, kept asking: “Which of these steps can I skip?”
Over years — working with thousands of clients and his own very stubborn mind — that question turned into an entire body of work. He started noticing what makes the serious mind loosen its grip. What seduces it. What confuses and surprises it just enough. What helps it let go of an issue without having to fight itself first.
People sometimes wrinkle their nose: “This is childish.”
And yes. Exactly. That’s the gift of it — that here, finally, the child gets to come out and play.
After you watch a thirty-year grievance dissolve over a comically large teacup, “miracle” starts to feel less like marketing and more like the only honest word left.
Try It Now
Take your small annoyance through one of these games before your serious guy reorganises his folder. Re-rate it. See what your own experience says.
One warning, and it’s meant with love: this stuff is mildly addictive. Once you catch your mind dropping a “real” problem because you asked it something ridiculous, you start eyeing your other problems like, huh… I wonder if this works on that one too.
That little huh is where the whole adventure begins.
Somewhere in your life there is a problem that has been living rent-free for years. Maybe it survives because nobody ever asked it a ridiculous enough question.
Go find out.
About Samuel Cremer & Miracle Work
Samuel Cremer is the developer of Miracle Work — a rapid emotional transformation method built on playful, precisely designed tools for dissolving emotional charge at its root. He works privately with individuals, couples, executives, and clinical practitioners worldwide.
→ View Samuel’s full profile on S.O.L.O Community → Explore Miracle Work
