The Banachek Way:
Tied to a downspout from a 2-story building, his tiny
hands bound behind his back, the six-year-old looked up as the bully sneered
down at him, spat on his feet, and chuckled. “Get out of that, fuckwad.”
the bully taunted, then swaggered away, never once looking back.
He watched the bully disappear into the distance and
saw his situation as a complex puzzle—a challenge waiting to be solved. His
eyes caught a glint in the sun: a broken piece of glass. Slowly, he rolled off
his shoes, then, using his right foot, he removed the sock on his left foot. Stretching
out, he carefully positioned his feet, moving closer to the perilous shard.
Just barely touching the jagged edge.
He shifted, inching toward the glass, changing his
stance many times. After what felt like an eternity—17 minutes—he finally
reached a position where he could drag the shiny piece of shard towards his
body, and then grab the glass with his trembling hands. He had reached the
halfway point—the dangerous, crucial moment where he would know if he could
succeed or fail. With the small shard of glass safely held in his hand, the
real test lay ahead: cutting the rope that held him captive.
Another 20 minutes crept by, the boy didn't notice the sweat, the blood, or the burning ache in his hands. Only the rope mattered. With the blunt piece of glass, he furiously sawed at the stubborn strands. His muscles screamed, his vision blurred, but he didn't stop.
Then, with a final, desperate snap,
the rope gave way. A tidal wave of adrenaline and triumph surged through him.
He stood, tears of relief and joy streaming down his face. In that exhilarating
moment, he learned two things: never give up when your back is against the
wall, and always believe there's a way to win.
Two years later, the bully returned. The 13-year-old stood outside
the 8-year-old boy's apartment, staring defiantly at the young man. He plunged
a Bowie knife into the soft earth at his feet. The message was clear: “Fear
me, I am going to hurt you, and there is nothing you can do about it.”
Just then, a window on the building slid open. The boy's
stepfather peered out. "Steve, supper's ready," he said.
"But Dad..." The boy gestured at the menacing figure, feeling a sense of
relief knowing his stepfather would surely fix the situation.
Instead, his father’s words sent a cold shock through the boy’s
body: "Take care of that first, then come eat!" The window slid
shut with an emphasized hopeless thump.
The bully grinned, advancing. With nowhere to run, the younger boy
made a choice. He wouldn't fail. He charged, fists raised, a whirlwind of
desperation and fury. The younger boy struck the older. The bully stumbled,
then fell, and to the young boy's disbelief, the bully began to cry. No one had
ever fought back before. The bully scrambled to his feet and ran, leaving his
knife behind. The boy picked it up, cleaned it, and headed inside for supper.
He had learned another important lesson: sometimes, the only way to win is to
believe in yourself and go all out. In later years, when things got tough, the
older boy, now a man, would take out the knife and stare at it as a reminder that there
is always a way to succeed.
These instances are true. They really happened and set the stage
for Banachek’s (formerly Steven Shaw) life.
He was abandoned in South Africa at the
age of 9, left to raise his two younger siblings (1 year and 3 years old) with
only an alcoholic stepfather who provided a roof over their heads but was
hardly ever around. Most people would call this a tragedy. Banachek calls it
freedom. It taught him to create his own moral compass and to always be a
leader. He had to sacrifice a conventional childhood, but in return, he gained
a unique perspective and a strong sense of right and wrong.
He worked three jobs in high school
just to survive. He sacrificed a college education. Most people would call this
a disadvantage. Banachek calls it an opportunity. He used it to find a love for
entertainment, a passion that has taken him to every continent but one, every
European country, most Asian and African countries, and along the way, he has met
amazing people and had adventures that a conventional life could never offer.
In 1987, Banachek was chained and
buried alive for a television special. It was a stunt so dangerous that even
Houdini himself couldn’t complete it. Houdini had to be dug out, and his diary
entry read, “The weight of the earth is crushing.” Banachek, like
Houdini, knew it was the illusion of danger that was most important. His plan
was to secretly slip out of the coffin into a hidden room while the cameras rolled,
and men shoveled dirt onto the coffin for cover of the deception. Once out, the bulldozers would come in and
fill the rest. This way if the coffin collapsed from the weight, Banachek would
still be safe. He would then tunnel back in 3 feet from the top once the hole
was full. (Remember, Houdini only had to tunnel 2 feet and could not succeed.) When
he arrived at the set, he discovered his partner had failed to follow the
specific instructions for building the room. It was now a death trap. Banachek
proceeded with the stunt anyway, but first he threw an extra 2 by 4 into the
hidden room.
As the bulldozers began to fill the
hole with dirt, the walls of the hidden room started to very slowly collapse. As
Banachek started to tunnel back into the grave, a wall pinned Banachek in the
small doorway, threatening to crush him. He never panicked. Reaching back, he
wedged a two-by-four between the front and back walls, holding back the weight
of the earth just long enough to continue his escape.
He tunneled back into the grave,
closed the door, and waited. Forty-five minutes later, he burst to the surface,
exhausted. The audience was in awe, never knowing how close he came to death. They also
never knew that because of a bully when he was 6, he was able to think outside
the box, never panic, and see each adventure through to its conclusion. Banachek was always aware, panicking got you
killed, clear thinking is what would save you.
Banachek never has nightmares about his
near-death experiences because he does not see them as almost failures but
rather as successful adventures. No matter the outcome, at the very
least, he will always have a good story to tell. For Banachek, these near-death
experiences aren't failures but triumphs. They are adventures that have helped
him learn the lesson: never let your almost failures keep you from being your
best self. See them as learning experiences that propel you toward success.
Reframe any negatives in your life to positives. You can always find a way.
By doing this, Banachek has become the most awarded mentalist in the
United States, written nine best-selling books in the art of Mind-reading and
every mentalist today uses at least one, if not more, of his creations. There
is a reason Criss Angel, Penn and Teller, David Blaine, and others have sought
out his expertise. It all comes down to
the fact Banachek believes in himself, and you should believe in yourself too.
Life is too short to focus on negatives, and most often, a negative can be a
positive if you look at it from a different angle.
