Every weekday at 11:00 A.M, Monday through Friday, three retired professionals used to meet at the same café in Manhattan. They passed their time complaining about the government, society, and the inefficiency of the post office. After they ran out of things to critique, they paid their bill, left a hefty tip, and went home to their wives, who had some complaints of their own. But thanks to the FBI, today was going to follow a different pattern.
Peter Hart was the ringleader of the malcontents. After the preliminary discussions about which prescription drugs they were taking, which of their friends had died or was playing dead, Peter would chime in with his favorite line, “If I were President of this country, things would be a hell of a lot different.”
The other gentlemen, ex-patriots of England and Israel, took their cue and swore that if they were the Prime Minister of England and Israel, respectively, the entire free world would have a different look and feel.
Just as Peter was talking about the soaring price of crude oil and how he could make the US less dependent upon fossil fuels, three men in black approached their table.
“Are you Peter Hart?” one of the men said.
“Yeah, what’s it to you?” Peter answered.
“Please come with us. The three of you are under arrest,” the man continued.
“For what? Over-tipping?” Peter said and started laughing.
The FBI agents retained their stoic expression. They displayed their FBI badges and one of them began reciting the Miranda rights.
“Spare yourselves the right to remain silent garbage. I’m a retired lawyer. You’ve got nothing on the three of us and if you leave now, I won’t sue your boss,” Peter threatened.
“The sooner you cooperate, the sooner you will get back home,” the taller of the men said like an annoyed camp counselor.
“And if we refuse?” Peter asked.
“You will be resisting arrest, and things will get a little sticky,” he said. “You and your friends can leave the café with or without handcuffs. We’ll have you back home in a few hours.”
“If I were president of the US, law abiding citizens wouldn’t be hauled off by power hungry FBI agents,” Peter said.
The cantankerous trio cooperated reluctantly and left the café amidst the stares of customers and waitresses.
They were escorted into a waiting SUV, and drove for a few moments. Before they got out of the vehicle, they were blindfolded. When their blindfolds were removed, they were sitting in a movie theater.
“I’m going to win this lawsuit. You guys don’t stand a chance. I’ve got years of experience fighting the big guys,” Peter said.
The assistant director of the FBI walked out on stage. “Sorry for the inconvenience, gentlemen. You’ve been chosen to take part in a simulation,” he said.
“Chosen without our permission,” Peter said.
“It’s all legal. The FBI has lawyers too, you know,” the assistant director said.
“So what’s this all about?” Tom, the British ex-patriot said, uttering his first words since the ordeal began.
“Using our sophisticated computers, we are simulating a world in which Peter is the President of the United States, Tom is the Prime Minister of England, and Uri is the PM of Israel,” he continued.
“We made a list of your strengths and weaknesses and compared them to the current men in power. We then extrapolated what kind of world we would have if the three of you were in charge,” the assistant director said.
“Don’t you have better things to do with the taxpayers’ money? “ Uri, the expatriate Israeli asked.
“We see this as a worthwhile investment,” he continued, “Anyway, we selected various factors to judge your success in your respective offices: Economic benchmarks such as cost of living and inflation rate, statistics on violent crime, and the number of terrorist incidents. Let’s take a look,” he said and the lights dimmed.
Three films played one after the other, with various economic, social, and postal statistics flashing on the screen.
The men witnessed press conferences with each one of them behind the microphone, spewing out powerful rhetoric. While their new world order had increased rights for the elderly, government subsidies for high fiber foods, and increased efficiency at the post office, the world still looked and felt the same.
“What exactly is the point of this virtual nonsense?” Peter asked.
“We just ran the film. The interpretation is up to you. Thanks for your time. We will take you back home now,” the assistant director said, and he walked off the stage.
The three men hibernated for a few days. They didn’t make their 11 o’clock meeting at the café for a full week. After some intense sulking, Peter made a few calls and the dynamic trio was up and running again.
Peter reasoned that history was a complex interplay of Destiny and human effort. Their toil seemed to be a condition, a pre-requisite as it were, as opposed to an actual catalyst for change.
Even though the three of them couldn’t change the world as heads of state, they were convinced they could make a positive impact on their corner of the universe.
The next week, the group met at the cafe, but for Sunday brunch and with their wives. On Monday and Thursdays, the three volunteered at a soup kitchen to help put real food in real hungry stomachs.
On Tuesdays and Wednesdays, each man went to a different inner-city high school to volunteer for a mentoring program. Fridays were designated for some self-indulgence involving poker games, cigars, and bowling.
The three men had learned a great deal from their FBI experience. Their complaining quotient decreased and their well being increased even if their letters still arrived late.
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
Wednesday, July 23, 2008
A match made in K-mart
Sam was a disgruntled K-mart manager going through a mid-life crisis. Nancy was a feminist social worker who was unaware that the 60s were over. From their meeting at a modest bastion of retail America, they were destined to change their views on marriage and music.
Nancy just finished shopping for the battered women at the halfway house where she volunteered. The women were comprised of drug addicts, teenage runaways, and shoplifters. The irony wasn't lost on her as the shoplifting alarm went off.
She was escorted into the manager's office by Jon, the assistant manager. The alarm was ringing in her head like the cacophonous droning of a Country & Western singer who genetically mutated into a train whistle.
Jon's dream was to be a policeman, but for some reason, the Police Academy kept refusing his application. Perhaps catching this shoplifter would be his lucky break to jump start his police training.
Nancy was equipped with an internal guilt meter. When she tried to lie, she would start laughing and give herself away. Stealing wasn't part of her vocabulary. She was enjoying the adrenaline rush of being a shoplifting suspect and committed to savoring the experience.
Sam was irritated when his cell phone went off. Fourth shoplifting of the day, he thought. When was he going to have time to micro-manage and intimidate his employees if he had to keep interrogating shoplifting suspects? Willie Nelson never had to put up with these things.
His mood shifted dramatically when he saw Nancy. He absolutely, totally, and uncontrollably fell in love with this remnant of Haight-Ashbury. Nancy had fire in her eyes and humor in her soul. Perhaps he could break his vow of never marrying again.
Nancy was moved by Sam's gentle aura, but she protected herself by repeating her favorite mantra: "Marriage is State-Sanctioned Slavery."
"Hi, I'm Sam, the manager. I understand there's some kind of problem here," Sam started.
"I'm Nancy. There's no problem at all. I was just curious what a K-mart manager's office looks like. Your assistant manager was kind enough to let my dream come true," Nancy said.
Sam smiled, but Jon kept his G.I. Joe vigilance.
"Should I call the police, boss?" Jon asked.
"Jon, chill out. You know our machine malfunctions occasionally," Sam said.
"Yeah, but not this time. I found the stolen goods in her purse," Jon said, proud of his due diligence.
Jon put the "evidence" on Sam's desk. The bag was filled with men's items that a feminist wouldn't dream of purchasing for either gender.
Sam and Nancy began laughing. Jon didn't share in the mirth.
"Jon, do me a favor and go wait on some customers."
"But, Sam...," Jon whined, picturing yet another rejection letter from the Police Academy.
"Now. This moment. Go." Sam insisted.
Jon left, disappointed that he couldn't notify the local police force of his exploit.
"Nancy, you are the victim of the oldest shoplifting trick in the book," Sam said.
"Would you care to share with the rest of the class, Sam?" Nancy asked.
"The real shoplifter plants stolen goods in the bag of the customer in front of him. The alarm sounds, and the real thief walks away in the ensuing confusion," he explained.
"I see. Well, at least I got to see your office. I'm not sure if my life can get any better than this," she said.
"I'd like to present you with a $100 gift certificate to make up for your bad experience this afternoon," Sam offered.
"How about if you keep the coupon and we go out for a cup of coffee instead," Nancy said.
Sam's eyes lit up. "Let's go. I'll let Jon run the store for a while. Maybe he'll find some real criminals while I'm gone," Sam said.
And thus their romance began. Six months later in a Las Vegas chapel, their single lives were officially upgraded to State-Sanctioned Bliss.
Although he grew up on Country & Western, Sam started listening to Nancy's music and became a connoisseur of 60s rock.
Nancy learned about capitalism as she spearheaded the K-mart internship program where her halfway house women worked afternoon shifts at the store.
Sam's mid-life crisis had turned into a mid-life opportunity as he took an active role in the internship program. Although he couldn't get Nancy to listen to more than one Country & Western hit a day, he did help her realize that capitalism wasn't all bad.
Jon was accepted to the Police Academy on a part-time basis. Back at K-mart, he began dating a 20-year-old recovering alcoholic who worked in sporting goods. She taught him a thing or two about forgiveness, giving the benefit of the doubt, and state-of-the-art scuba diving equipment.
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the
University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and training sessions at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published next year. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com
© Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Nancy just finished shopping for the battered women at the halfway house where she volunteered. The women were comprised of drug addicts, teenage runaways, and shoplifters. The irony wasn't lost on her as the shoplifting alarm went off.
She was escorted into the manager's office by Jon, the assistant manager. The alarm was ringing in her head like the cacophonous droning of a Country & Western singer who genetically mutated into a train whistle.
Jon's dream was to be a policeman, but for some reason, the Police Academy kept refusing his application. Perhaps catching this shoplifter would be his lucky break to jump start his police training.
Nancy was equipped with an internal guilt meter. When she tried to lie, she would start laughing and give herself away. Stealing wasn't part of her vocabulary. She was enjoying the adrenaline rush of being a shoplifting suspect and committed to savoring the experience.
Sam was irritated when his cell phone went off. Fourth shoplifting of the day, he thought. When was he going to have time to micro-manage and intimidate his employees if he had to keep interrogating shoplifting suspects? Willie Nelson never had to put up with these things.
His mood shifted dramatically when he saw Nancy. He absolutely, totally, and uncontrollably fell in love with this remnant of Haight-Ashbury. Nancy had fire in her eyes and humor in her soul. Perhaps he could break his vow of never marrying again.
Nancy was moved by Sam's gentle aura, but she protected herself by repeating her favorite mantra: "Marriage is State-Sanctioned Slavery."
"Hi, I'm Sam, the manager. I understand there's some kind of problem here," Sam started.
"I'm Nancy. There's no problem at all. I was just curious what a K-mart manager's office looks like. Your assistant manager was kind enough to let my dream come true," Nancy said.
Sam smiled, but Jon kept his G.I. Joe vigilance.
"Should I call the police, boss?" Jon asked.
"Jon, chill out. You know our machine malfunctions occasionally," Sam said.
"Yeah, but not this time. I found the stolen goods in her purse," Jon said, proud of his due diligence.
Jon put the "evidence" on Sam's desk. The bag was filled with men's items that a feminist wouldn't dream of purchasing for either gender.
Sam and Nancy began laughing. Jon didn't share in the mirth.
"Jon, do me a favor and go wait on some customers."
"But, Sam...," Jon whined, picturing yet another rejection letter from the Police Academy.
"Now. This moment. Go." Sam insisted.
Jon left, disappointed that he couldn't notify the local police force of his exploit.
"Nancy, you are the victim of the oldest shoplifting trick in the book," Sam said.
"Would you care to share with the rest of the class, Sam?" Nancy asked.
"The real shoplifter plants stolen goods in the bag of the customer in front of him. The alarm sounds, and the real thief walks away in the ensuing confusion," he explained.
"I see. Well, at least I got to see your office. I'm not sure if my life can get any better than this," she said.
"I'd like to present you with a $100 gift certificate to make up for your bad experience this afternoon," Sam offered.
"How about if you keep the coupon and we go out for a cup of coffee instead," Nancy said.
Sam's eyes lit up. "Let's go. I'll let Jon run the store for a while. Maybe he'll find some real criminals while I'm gone," Sam said.
And thus their romance began. Six months later in a Las Vegas chapel, their single lives were officially upgraded to State-Sanctioned Bliss.
Although he grew up on Country & Western, Sam started listening to Nancy's music and became a connoisseur of 60s rock.
Nancy learned about capitalism as she spearheaded the K-mart internship program where her halfway house women worked afternoon shifts at the store.
Sam's mid-life crisis had turned into a mid-life opportunity as he took an active role in the internship program. Although he couldn't get Nancy to listen to more than one Country & Western hit a day, he did help her realize that capitalism wasn't all bad.
Jon was accepted to the Police Academy on a part-time basis. Back at K-mart, he began dating a 20-year-old recovering alcoholic who worked in sporting goods. She taught him a thing or two about forgiveness, giving the benefit of the doubt, and state-of-the-art scuba diving equipment.
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the
University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and training sessions at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published next year. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com
© Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Monday, July 07, 2008
Eliminating the "W" Word
It’s time to stop using the word “Why”. Unless you are a philosopher or an immigrant from a polysyllabic country, there is little reason to keep asking “Why”. Do a search in your brain for “Why” questions that don’t motivate you to take action and replace them with “How” questions.
“Why” is often used to make excuses and overuse of the word can lull us into victim mode. Here are some typical why questions:
Why didn’t I get that job?
Why did I sell those stocks?
Why does that man keep staring at my wallet?
Why questions tend to be a complaint that either nature or nurture dealt you a poor hand.
(Incidentally, the whole nature/nurture debate is based on a typographical error made by a nearsighted scribe in Vienna. Once the mistake was revealed, thousands of students already wrote their PhDs on this topic. By that time, it was too embarrassing and costly to correct the error.)
So instead of moping around asking “Who am I and why?” you can start asking yourself the question, “Who do I want to become and how.”
One of the most effective ways of doing this is changing your orientation towards time.
Here are some ideas:
Past:
Remember, whatever happened in the past is over. No one, especially you, cares “why” you the person you are. Past memories can be remembered in such as way to empower you in the future. Use the past to propel you forward into a brighter future. Or go watch an “ER” rerun. Your call.
Present:
Enjoy living in the moment. Use the virtual slow motion button in your head when necessary to enjoy the present. However, don’t do this while driving or operating heavy machinery.
Future:
A little future orientation can be healthy, as long as you don’t become as unstable as a surreal estate agent. Craft your future plans in a compelling way such that you become nostalgic about them.
Once you have done these things, your “why” questions will be transformed into the following “how” questions:
Why didn’t I get that job?
Becomes…..
How do I succeed at my present job, find another one, or start a business of my own?
Why did I sell those stocks?
Becomes…..
How can I build a diversified portfolio and create multiple streams of income?
Why does that man keep staring at my wallet?
Becomes…..
How can I handcuff him with his tie before he takes my money?
The time is now. The days of “why” are in your past and the era of “how” is about to begin. How can you afford to wait?
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and training sessions at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published next year. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com.
© Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
“Why” is often used to make excuses and overuse of the word can lull us into victim mode. Here are some typical why questions:
Why didn’t I get that job?
Why did I sell those stocks?
Why does that man keep staring at my wallet?
Why questions tend to be a complaint that either nature or nurture dealt you a poor hand.
(Incidentally, the whole nature/nurture debate is based on a typographical error made by a nearsighted scribe in Vienna. Once the mistake was revealed, thousands of students already wrote their PhDs on this topic. By that time, it was too embarrassing and costly to correct the error.)
So instead of moping around asking “Who am I and why?” you can start asking yourself the question, “Who do I want to become and how.”
One of the most effective ways of doing this is changing your orientation towards time.
Here are some ideas:
Past:
Remember, whatever happened in the past is over. No one, especially you, cares “why” you the person you are. Past memories can be remembered in such as way to empower you in the future. Use the past to propel you forward into a brighter future. Or go watch an “ER” rerun. Your call.
Present:
Enjoy living in the moment. Use the virtual slow motion button in your head when necessary to enjoy the present. However, don’t do this while driving or operating heavy machinery.
Future:
A little future orientation can be healthy, as long as you don’t become as unstable as a surreal estate agent. Craft your future plans in a compelling way such that you become nostalgic about them.
Once you have done these things, your “why” questions will be transformed into the following “how” questions:
Why didn’t I get that job?
Becomes…..
How do I succeed at my present job, find another one, or start a business of my own?
Why did I sell those stocks?
Becomes…..
How can I build a diversified portfolio and create multiple streams of income?
Why does that man keep staring at my wallet?
Becomes…..
How can I handcuff him with his tie before he takes my money?
The time is now. The days of “why” are in your past and the era of “how” is about to begin. How can you afford to wait?
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and training sessions at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published next year. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com.
© Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Tuesday, June 24, 2008
Whistling Anti-Semites
Jacob Silver was appointed the first Israeli ambassador to the Caribbean Island of Macocuo. Silver, a retired professor of linguistics, was excited about the position because he would be able to learn the exotic Macocuo whistle language. A native of Macocuo was sent to Tel Aviv to tutor Silver. Unfortunately, the tutor’s motives were less than honorable.
In case you were worried about a sudden shortage of anti-Semites, the tutor proved that the enemies of the Jewish people are alive and well, and whistling while they work. The tutor was committed to doing everything in his power to block diplomatic relations between his native country and evil incarnate, otherwise known as Israel.
The tutor, whose name can only be whistled, had a simple but destructive plan. He was going to teach Silver the island’s whistle language incorrectly. Silver would humiliate himself and leave Macocuo as soon as he puckered his lips. Or at least that was the tutor's plan.
After an intense 6 months of tutoring, Silver showed up in Macocuo ready to give his first speech. His wife asked him to use a translator for the press conference, since he had jet lag and wouldn’t be at his best. Silver refused to follows his wife’s sage advice.
The following is a rough translation of Silver’s talk in the presence of the King and Queen of the constitutional monarchy of Macocuo.
It is a deeply painful experience to be here today.
I feel a dull ache in every major organ of my body, and in some of my minor organs as well.
Silver paused for a moment, expecting some laughter from the joke that he thought he delivered brilliantly. He was greeted by a stony silence.
I am concerned that my digestive system will not be able to handle your primitive foods. Therefore, I have brought some delicacies from my highly advanced country. I will be happy to sell some of these items to your citizens at black market prices.
Thoughts were forming in the King’s head that were about to be manifested as angry whistles.
My country will attack this Island by land, sea, and air if I am mistreated in any way. So be careful how you act towards me and my wife.
At this point, a mosquito the size of a watermelon started circling Silver. It was looking for blood and it was ready to bring in backup if necessary. That distraction, coupled by his jet lag caused him to sweat profusely. Even had he been taught the language correctly, very little could have stopped him from digging his own linguistic grave deeper by the whistle.
His hands began to shake as he completed his speech.
Both of our great nations share common ideals. I propose our two great nations exchange precious resources such as driving teachers and situation comedies from the early 70s.
Please don’t contact me during the daylight hours because I will be relaxing on the beach. Do not call me at night because I will be busy drinking and stealing your military secrets. Other than that, please don’t hesitate to contact me anytime. Thank you.
Just as the king was about to summon his security men to remove Silver from the dais, and perhaps from the country, an amazing thing happened. His wife, the Queen, began laughing.
The Queen had been suffering from depression for the past three years. All the King’s doctors and all the King’s specialists hadn’t been able to put her emotions back together again.
No amount of anti-depressants, exercise or therapy had helped her feel good about life, much less smile. However, Silver’s botched whistle speech made her laugh her head off.
The king was so grateful to Silver for helping the Queen that he invited him and his wife to the Royal Palace that evening for dinner. Silver wanted to thank the King for the invitation, but instead whistled his desire to crack open raw eggs over his crown. The Queen was laughing hysterically at Silver’s remarks.
After the tutor confessed to his crime, he was sentenced to a year in prison. He was forced to donate a large sum of money to Silver’s favorite charity in Israel. In addition, he had to whistle the verse “Love your neighbor as yourself” 500 times a day.
The recording of Silver’s press conference became a best seller on the Island. Silver was provided with a proper tutor, who managed to undo the damage the first language teacher caused.
Silver eventually reached the point in his language skills where he finally understood what he said at the press conference. After he heard the recording, he felt he was going to spiral into a depression worse than the Queen had suffered. But there was no time for negative emotions. It was almost time for his daily stand up routine for the Queen.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and training sessions at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published next year. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com.
© Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
In case you were worried about a sudden shortage of anti-Semites, the tutor proved that the enemies of the Jewish people are alive and well, and whistling while they work. The tutor was committed to doing everything in his power to block diplomatic relations between his native country and evil incarnate, otherwise known as Israel.
The tutor, whose name can only be whistled, had a simple but destructive plan. He was going to teach Silver the island’s whistle language incorrectly. Silver would humiliate himself and leave Macocuo as soon as he puckered his lips. Or at least that was the tutor's plan.
After an intense 6 months of tutoring, Silver showed up in Macocuo ready to give his first speech. His wife asked him to use a translator for the press conference, since he had jet lag and wouldn’t be at his best. Silver refused to follows his wife’s sage advice.
The following is a rough translation of Silver’s talk in the presence of the King and Queen of the constitutional monarchy of Macocuo.
It is a deeply painful experience to be here today.
I feel a dull ache in every major organ of my body, and in some of my minor organs as well.
Silver paused for a moment, expecting some laughter from the joke that he thought he delivered brilliantly. He was greeted by a stony silence.
I am concerned that my digestive system will not be able to handle your primitive foods. Therefore, I have brought some delicacies from my highly advanced country. I will be happy to sell some of these items to your citizens at black market prices.
Thoughts were forming in the King’s head that were about to be manifested as angry whistles.
My country will attack this Island by land, sea, and air if I am mistreated in any way. So be careful how you act towards me and my wife.
At this point, a mosquito the size of a watermelon started circling Silver. It was looking for blood and it was ready to bring in backup if necessary. That distraction, coupled by his jet lag caused him to sweat profusely. Even had he been taught the language correctly, very little could have stopped him from digging his own linguistic grave deeper by the whistle.
His hands began to shake as he completed his speech.
Both of our great nations share common ideals. I propose our two great nations exchange precious resources such as driving teachers and situation comedies from the early 70s.
Please don’t contact me during the daylight hours because I will be relaxing on the beach. Do not call me at night because I will be busy drinking and stealing your military secrets. Other than that, please don’t hesitate to contact me anytime. Thank you.
Just as the king was about to summon his security men to remove Silver from the dais, and perhaps from the country, an amazing thing happened. His wife, the Queen, began laughing.
The Queen had been suffering from depression for the past three years. All the King’s doctors and all the King’s specialists hadn’t been able to put her emotions back together again.
No amount of anti-depressants, exercise or therapy had helped her feel good about life, much less smile. However, Silver’s botched whistle speech made her laugh her head off.
The king was so grateful to Silver for helping the Queen that he invited him and his wife to the Royal Palace that evening for dinner. Silver wanted to thank the King for the invitation, but instead whistled his desire to crack open raw eggs over his crown. The Queen was laughing hysterically at Silver’s remarks.
After the tutor confessed to his crime, he was sentenced to a year in prison. He was forced to donate a large sum of money to Silver’s favorite charity in Israel. In addition, he had to whistle the verse “Love your neighbor as yourself” 500 times a day.
The recording of Silver’s press conference became a best seller on the Island. Silver was provided with a proper tutor, who managed to undo the damage the first language teacher caused.
Silver eventually reached the point in his language skills where he finally understood what he said at the press conference. After he heard the recording, he felt he was going to spiral into a depression worse than the Queen had suffered. But there was no time for negative emotions. It was almost time for his daily stand up routine for the Queen.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and training sessions at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published next year. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com.
© Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Wednesday, June 11, 2008
Brain defect or enhancement?
Jane overheard the doctor speaking to her parents in the emergency room as she was regaining consciousness. She was alive and unscathed by any serious physical injuries. However, her MRI revealed an injury that would lead to interesting consequences for her.
Jane was the victim of a collision between a parked car that somehow smashed into the motorcycle she was riding at 120 mph. Her doctor labeled her survival as nothing less than a medical miracle.
“What do you mean by interesting consequences?” Jane’s father asked the ER physician.
“Her brain sustained minor trauma. She will no longer be able to process negative thoughts and speech,” the doctor explained.
“What the hell does that mean? her mother asked.
What Jane heard was “What the ……does that mean?
“Her nervous system will not be able to comprehend her own negative thoughts or negative speech from others,” the doctor said.
Jane heard her father say, “Is that a blessing or a ……….”
What her father really said was “Is that a blessing or a curse?”
“Only time will tell,” the doctor said. “Please bring her into my office for a checkup in two weeks.” The doctor left Jane’s parents and went to deal with the next patient.
Jane was released from the hospital a few days later. She planned on spending two days at home and then going back to work.
One of her first visitors was Aunt Gloria. She came into Jane’s room and hugged her. Aunt Gloria began her monologue which described everything that’s wrong with the world. Jane could only see her Aunt’s lips moving and her arms flailing, but Jane couldn’t piece together what she was saying.
Any outside observer could hear Aunt Gloria’s scathing attacks on the universe’s inability to cater to her every want and need. Unless Aunt Gloria got herself into an identical motorcycle accident, she would go to the grave with complaints against every human being and institution with whom she ever had contact.
Jane just looked at her aunt with an empty stare and nodded occasionally to make her think that she was listening.
Jane’s inability to process negative thoughts didn’t mean that she wasn’t aware that negative things existed. Even after the accident, Jane was well aware that less than positive things happen in the world. She knew that the face of evil rears its ugly head in the guise of war, pestilence, and call waiting. However, her brain “defect” could only deal with these items under very specific circumstances.
At first Jane’s condition was annoying. She started feeling like a poster child for positive thinking. However, that feeling never materialized because the negative thought that might have generated that feeling couldn’t be processed by her “damaged” brain.
As time went on, she found herself gravitating towards positive people because they were the only ones whom she could understand. And since she couldn’t think about anything negative, she was much more optimistic and happy than she was before her accident.
Two weeks later at her checkup, she qualified her doctor’s diagnosis.
“Your diagnosis was only partially correct,” Jane said to her physician.
“Meaning?” asked the doctor.
“While I can’t process complaining and whining for its own sake,” Jane said. “I can process negative thoughts and speech that are in the context of brief therapeutic “venting”.
“Go on,” the doctor said.
“I can also process negativity that is generated in the context of coming up with a solution.”
“So, at the end of the day, how would you answer your father’s question whether or not your anomaly is blessing or a curse?” the doctor asked.
“It’s definitely a blessing. Instead of a brain defect, I see this as an enhancement or an upgrade to my nervous system. “
“How do you know that you are only saying it’s a blessing just because you can’t process the idea of a curse?” the doctor asked.
“Great question. I tried thinking about that myself but was unable to, of course. However, the answer to your question is that my brain is not blocking a negative assessment. And I have evidence from the outside world that my “defect” really is a positive thing.”
“How’s that?” the doctor asked.
“Many of my friends have asked me to help them replicate my ability to filter out negative thoughts and speech.”
“So you are teaching them how to consciously do what you accomplish naturally as a result of the accident?” the doctor asked.
“Exactly. I’m just baffled by one thing.” Jane said.
“What’s that, Jane?” the doctor asked.
“I’m not sure why none of my friends have asked me to give them motorcycle lessons.”
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and training sessions at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published next year. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com.
© Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Jane was the victim of a collision between a parked car that somehow smashed into the motorcycle she was riding at 120 mph. Her doctor labeled her survival as nothing less than a medical miracle.
“What do you mean by interesting consequences?” Jane’s father asked the ER physician.
“Her brain sustained minor trauma. She will no longer be able to process negative thoughts and speech,” the doctor explained.
“What the hell does that mean? her mother asked.
What Jane heard was “What the ……does that mean?
“Her nervous system will not be able to comprehend her own negative thoughts or negative speech from others,” the doctor said.
Jane heard her father say, “Is that a blessing or a ……….”
What her father really said was “Is that a blessing or a curse?”
“Only time will tell,” the doctor said. “Please bring her into my office for a checkup in two weeks.” The doctor left Jane’s parents and went to deal with the next patient.
Jane was released from the hospital a few days later. She planned on spending two days at home and then going back to work.
One of her first visitors was Aunt Gloria. She came into Jane’s room and hugged her. Aunt Gloria began her monologue which described everything that’s wrong with the world. Jane could only see her Aunt’s lips moving and her arms flailing, but Jane couldn’t piece together what she was saying.
Any outside observer could hear Aunt Gloria’s scathing attacks on the universe’s inability to cater to her every want and need. Unless Aunt Gloria got herself into an identical motorcycle accident, she would go to the grave with complaints against every human being and institution with whom she ever had contact.
Jane just looked at her aunt with an empty stare and nodded occasionally to make her think that she was listening.
Jane’s inability to process negative thoughts didn’t mean that she wasn’t aware that negative things existed. Even after the accident, Jane was well aware that less than positive things happen in the world. She knew that the face of evil rears its ugly head in the guise of war, pestilence, and call waiting. However, her brain “defect” could only deal with these items under very specific circumstances.
At first Jane’s condition was annoying. She started feeling like a poster child for positive thinking. However, that feeling never materialized because the negative thought that might have generated that feeling couldn’t be processed by her “damaged” brain.
As time went on, she found herself gravitating towards positive people because they were the only ones whom she could understand. And since she couldn’t think about anything negative, she was much more optimistic and happy than she was before her accident.
Two weeks later at her checkup, she qualified her doctor’s diagnosis.
“Your diagnosis was only partially correct,” Jane said to her physician.
“Meaning?” asked the doctor.
“While I can’t process complaining and whining for its own sake,” Jane said. “I can process negative thoughts and speech that are in the context of brief therapeutic “venting”.
“Go on,” the doctor said.
“I can also process negativity that is generated in the context of coming up with a solution.”
“So, at the end of the day, how would you answer your father’s question whether or not your anomaly is blessing or a curse?” the doctor asked.
“It’s definitely a blessing. Instead of a brain defect, I see this as an enhancement or an upgrade to my nervous system. “
“How do you know that you are only saying it’s a blessing just because you can’t process the idea of a curse?” the doctor asked.
“Great question. I tried thinking about that myself but was unable to, of course. However, the answer to your question is that my brain is not blocking a negative assessment. And I have evidence from the outside world that my “defect” really is a positive thing.”
“How’s that?” the doctor asked.
“Many of my friends have asked me to help them replicate my ability to filter out negative thoughts and speech.”
“So you are teaching them how to consciously do what you accomplish naturally as a result of the accident?” the doctor asked.
“Exactly. I’m just baffled by one thing.” Jane said.
“What’s that, Jane?” the doctor asked.
“I’m not sure why none of my friends have asked me to give them motorcycle lessons.”
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and training sessions at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published next year. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com.
© Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Tuesday, June 03, 2008
Ending voter apathy with Kopelani Blend™ Coffee
There are 304 million Americans, and each one of them has been to Starbucks® 3 times in the last 40 minutes. On the other end of the popularity spectrum, less than 50% of eligible Americans® have registered to vote in the upcoming presidential elections. To make matters worse, 20% of those who did register are planning on not voting TWICE this November.
As concerned American citizens who love democracy, free elections, and flavored coffee, we need to leverage the popularity of Starbucks® to turn this situation around. This will involve thinking outside of the box.
Thinking outside of the box sometimes involves combining unrelated elements. For example, a few years back some genius took suitcases and wheels, each of which existed in its own right, and combined them. His final product was a home entertainment system. No sorry, he ended up with a suitcase on wheels. Suitcases on wheels are convenient to use and they also make really cool sounds on concrete.
Using this same model, we need to encourage a strategic partnership between two of the most powerful entities on earth, Starbucks® and the United States government.
I propose a one day workshop to teach Starbucks® employees how to get Americans to fill out their voter registration cards.
The first line of their script will be as follows:
“Once you fill out this voter registration card, I will give you the mouth-watering food and delicious drinks you ordered.”
Most Starbucks® customers will comply with this tactic. However, there will always be a defiant minority that will put up a fight. For that reason, Starbucks® employees will be equipped with the following list of objections and responses.
Objection
“I can’t fill out the form because my blood sugar is dropping rapidly.”
Response
“I understand. This is even more incentive for you to complete the form quickly. As a courtesy, our staff nurse will hook you up to a glucose drip while you write.”
Objection
“I’m not an American citizen.”
Response
“No problem. Here are some naturalization forms for you to fill out.”
Objection
“I can’t read or write.”
Response
“No problem. Here are some “Just say no to Illiteracy” forms for you to fill out.”
Objection
“If I don’t get some caffeine in my system soon, I’m going to harm myself, you, and your CD display.”
Response
“Do whatever you need to do, sir, but please don’t touch the CD display.”
This plan will help Americans to register, but what about actually getting them to show up at the voting stations?
Part two of the Starbucks® initiative will provide newly registered voters with a gift certificate for coffee, tea, or a lovely fruit salad. This coupon is only redeemable if it is stamped by an election official when one finishes voting.
We have a lot to be proud of as Americans. Let’s continue to make this country greater. We love our democracy and our caffeine. Some day over 90% of our populace will vote and we will return to the era of free, unlimited refills.
As concerned American citizens who love democracy, free elections, and flavored coffee, we need to leverage the popularity of Starbucks® to turn this situation around. This will involve thinking outside of the box.
Thinking outside of the box sometimes involves combining unrelated elements. For example, a few years back some genius took suitcases and wheels, each of which existed in its own right, and combined them. His final product was a home entertainment system. No sorry, he ended up with a suitcase on wheels. Suitcases on wheels are convenient to use and they also make really cool sounds on concrete.
Using this same model, we need to encourage a strategic partnership between two of the most powerful entities on earth, Starbucks® and the United States government.
I propose a one day workshop to teach Starbucks® employees how to get Americans to fill out their voter registration cards.
The first line of their script will be as follows:
“Once you fill out this voter registration card, I will give you the mouth-watering food and delicious drinks you ordered.”
Most Starbucks® customers will comply with this tactic. However, there will always be a defiant minority that will put up a fight. For that reason, Starbucks® employees will be equipped with the following list of objections and responses.
Objection
“I can’t fill out the form because my blood sugar is dropping rapidly.”
Response
“I understand. This is even more incentive for you to complete the form quickly. As a courtesy, our staff nurse will hook you up to a glucose drip while you write.”
Objection
“I’m not an American citizen.”
Response
“No problem. Here are some naturalization forms for you to fill out.”
Objection
“I can’t read or write.”
Response
“No problem. Here are some “Just say no to Illiteracy” forms for you to fill out.”
Objection
“If I don’t get some caffeine in my system soon, I’m going to harm myself, you, and your CD display.”
Response
“Do whatever you need to do, sir, but please don’t touch the CD display.”
This plan will help Americans to register, but what about actually getting them to show up at the voting stations?
Part two of the Starbucks® initiative will provide newly registered voters with a gift certificate for coffee, tea, or a lovely fruit salad. This coupon is only redeemable if it is stamped by an election official when one finishes voting.
We have a lot to be proud of as Americans. Let’s continue to make this country greater. We love our democracy and our caffeine. Some day over 90% of our populace will vote and we will return to the era of free, unlimited refills.
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
His and her biological clocks
My name is Gil. I’m 35, newly engaged, and gainfully employed in my own time-sharing business. After several months of hearing my fiancée Angelica’s lectures about her biological clock ticking, I developed an issue with my biological clock. Due to my DNA malfunctioning, I’m starting to get younger.
It all started when I noticed my receding hairline was beginning to fill in. In addition, my prematurely graying hair returned to its original color. I went to my family physician and told him my concerns. He displayed his empathy by laughing in my face. Nonetheless, he humored me and ran a few tests anyway.
My doctor called me the next day with an apology and his interpretation of my test results. He had a preliminary confirmation that something was array with my aging process. He sent the test results to the Mayo Clinic for verification. A week later, they confirmed that my DNA was programmed to reverse my aging process. I was getting younger by the second.
While this might sound like a good thing on the surface, when you do the math, it’s a scary prospect. I’m trying to break off my engagement.
When my biological age returns to 25, I told Angelica, she will be 40. If we have children, they will catch up to, and then surpass, my age.
If we go through with this crazy marriage idea, I argued, she will progress from looking like my older sister, to my mother and then my grandmother. I no longer fear death, I explained to her, I'm terrified of reaching my second birth.
Angelica refused to break off our engagement. She had faith that the Mayo researchers would get me to grow up again. And even if they didn’t succeed, she would stick with me to the infantile end. Our love, she reasoned, would transcend my wacky DNA.
According to the research team, I would maintain my full intellectual capabilities as my body underwent the developmental stages in reverse order. I would get stronger and faster in my 20s and teens, but eventually I would resort to crawling, blabbering, and well, I don’t want to go there.
So we got married despite my protests. Angelica aged appropriately and I continued to regress. Angelica found it flattering when people wondered what a 25 year old guy found so appealing about a 40 year old woman. In a few years, our gaps in age would look ridiculous to the outside world.
Getting younger made no difference to me professionally. All my work was done by email and phone. When I turned into a voice-cracking adolescent, I would purchase some telephony software to mask my voice. We had two children who where intrigued by the idea of a father who was getting closer in age to them each year.
On my second 18th birthday, my wife was 47, and my children were 16 and 14. Things took a turn for the better on that day. I was on my way to play tennis with my oldest son. The only times he beat me at tennis was when I felt sorry for him and I let him win. It was in this context that I made the discovery.
As I was getting ready for our trip to the club, I looked in the mirror and peered at one of the most beautiful sights I have ever witnessed. I saw a gray hair on my head. It was in the same location that it was the first time I turned 18.
We skipped the tennis game and I went to the doctor with my wife. To the other patients, we looked like a concerned mother taking her son in for a physical exam.
The doctor confirmed that I was indeed aging again, but he sent me to the Mayo clinic to run a battery of tests. They confirmed that I was, thank God, getting older. The researchers had frozen some of my cells and they were attempting to clone them. They were optimistic that they could boost terminal patient’s immune systems with my reverse aging cells.
My wife and I did some more math in the waiting room. When I turn 50, Angelica will be 79. “So what?” I thought. My wife was concerned that I would leave her for a younger woman. I assured her of my loyalty to her.
After all, she stuck with me while I grew younger and I'm totally committed to staying with her as she ages. My dedication to her will never change. What might change is my career. I’m thinking of going into futures.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and training sessions at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published next year. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com.
It all started when I noticed my receding hairline was beginning to fill in. In addition, my prematurely graying hair returned to its original color. I went to my family physician and told him my concerns. He displayed his empathy by laughing in my face. Nonetheless, he humored me and ran a few tests anyway.
My doctor called me the next day with an apology and his interpretation of my test results. He had a preliminary confirmation that something was array with my aging process. He sent the test results to the Mayo Clinic for verification. A week later, they confirmed that my DNA was programmed to reverse my aging process. I was getting younger by the second.
While this might sound like a good thing on the surface, when you do the math, it’s a scary prospect. I’m trying to break off my engagement.
When my biological age returns to 25, I told Angelica, she will be 40. If we have children, they will catch up to, and then surpass, my age.
If we go through with this crazy marriage idea, I argued, she will progress from looking like my older sister, to my mother and then my grandmother. I no longer fear death, I explained to her, I'm terrified of reaching my second birth.
Angelica refused to break off our engagement. She had faith that the Mayo researchers would get me to grow up again. And even if they didn’t succeed, she would stick with me to the infantile end. Our love, she reasoned, would transcend my wacky DNA.
According to the research team, I would maintain my full intellectual capabilities as my body underwent the developmental stages in reverse order. I would get stronger and faster in my 20s and teens, but eventually I would resort to crawling, blabbering, and well, I don’t want to go there.
So we got married despite my protests. Angelica aged appropriately and I continued to regress. Angelica found it flattering when people wondered what a 25 year old guy found so appealing about a 40 year old woman. In a few years, our gaps in age would look ridiculous to the outside world.
Getting younger made no difference to me professionally. All my work was done by email and phone. When I turned into a voice-cracking adolescent, I would purchase some telephony software to mask my voice. We had two children who where intrigued by the idea of a father who was getting closer in age to them each year.
On my second 18th birthday, my wife was 47, and my children were 16 and 14. Things took a turn for the better on that day. I was on my way to play tennis with my oldest son. The only times he beat me at tennis was when I felt sorry for him and I let him win. It was in this context that I made the discovery.
As I was getting ready for our trip to the club, I looked in the mirror and peered at one of the most beautiful sights I have ever witnessed. I saw a gray hair on my head. It was in the same location that it was the first time I turned 18.
We skipped the tennis game and I went to the doctor with my wife. To the other patients, we looked like a concerned mother taking her son in for a physical exam.
The doctor confirmed that I was indeed aging again, but he sent me to the Mayo clinic to run a battery of tests. They confirmed that I was, thank God, getting older. The researchers had frozen some of my cells and they were attempting to clone them. They were optimistic that they could boost terminal patient’s immune systems with my reverse aging cells.
My wife and I did some more math in the waiting room. When I turn 50, Angelica will be 79. “So what?” I thought. My wife was concerned that I would leave her for a younger woman. I assured her of my loyalty to her.
After all, she stuck with me while I grew younger and I'm totally committed to staying with her as she ages. My dedication to her will never change. What might change is my career. I’m thinking of going into futures.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and training sessions at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published next year. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com.
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
The 7.3 radical spins on dating
If your dating hasn’t led you to your life partner yet, then you might want to try a different approach. The following guidelines will help you find your soul mate.
1. Showing up
Show up on time, but come as you are. Forget about showering and finding the perfect outfit. Go ahead and arrive after working out at the gym, running, or meeting with your parole officer. When married, we usually don’t have the time to create our ideal state before getting together, so get used to it now.
2. Location
Real life isn’t about sipping coffee and eating cinnamon rolls. Try the following option for your first date.
Meet at a carpenter’s workshop. Build a bookshelf, a stereo cabinet or maybe some farming implements. Anyone can ingest food, but only a select few can construct something together without getting into a fight.
3. Conversation
Forget those meaningless discussions highlighting your good points. Instead, be brutally honest. Although I met my wife 10 years before we got married, when we started talking about tying the knot, I decided to reveal my deep, dark secrets. I didn’t want her to have any surprises during the marriage.
For example, I told her about my nasty habit of biting nails, or more specifically, biting other people’s nails.
When she didn’t balk, I showed her my picture taken immediately upon awakening in the morning. She decided to marry me anyway.
4. Timing
Call your date 10 minutes before she has a deadline or 45 minutes after he has fallen asleep. Learn how they deal with pressure or exhaustion.
5. Projects
Don’t just get together and talk. Involve yourselves in projects. Here are some ideas:
Adopt a puppy, a dysfunctional family or a third world country. See how your teamwork plays itself out.
Start a campaign to bring free meals back to the airlines or a public service project to teach diction to President Bush. Measure each other’s idealism when working on your social activism.
6. Assess character traits
Physical beauty is great, but character traits outlive our looks. Is your date kind to strangers, patient with children, and playful with DMV employees? If not, remember that magical word: Next.
7. Analyze your personality change
Does she bring out your best, your worst, or perhaps your secret desire to open up a Viking restaurant? Is this transformed person you become in her presence the one with whom you want to spend the rest of your life?
.3 Deciding
In his book, Blink, Malcolm Gladwell discusses our ability to make decisions based on instinct. While you shouldn’t agree to get married based on your gut feelings alone, steps 1-7 will help you confirm what you already intuited after the first .3 seconds of meeting your date. If your conscious and unconscious minds are on the same page, then go for it. If not, then test out your teamwork in a different third world country.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and training sessions at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published next year. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. Visit his blog at http://bengoldfarb.blogspot.com.
© Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
1. Showing up
Show up on time, but come as you are. Forget about showering and finding the perfect outfit. Go ahead and arrive after working out at the gym, running, or meeting with your parole officer. When married, we usually don’t have the time to create our ideal state before getting together, so get used to it now.
2. Location
Real life isn’t about sipping coffee and eating cinnamon rolls. Try the following option for your first date.
Meet at a carpenter’s workshop. Build a bookshelf, a stereo cabinet or maybe some farming implements. Anyone can ingest food, but only a select few can construct something together without getting into a fight.
3. Conversation
Forget those meaningless discussions highlighting your good points. Instead, be brutally honest. Although I met my wife 10 years before we got married, when we started talking about tying the knot, I decided to reveal my deep, dark secrets. I didn’t want her to have any surprises during the marriage.
For example, I told her about my nasty habit of biting nails, or more specifically, biting other people’s nails.
When she didn’t balk, I showed her my picture taken immediately upon awakening in the morning. She decided to marry me anyway.
4. Timing
Call your date 10 minutes before she has a deadline or 45 minutes after he has fallen asleep. Learn how they deal with pressure or exhaustion.
5. Projects
Don’t just get together and talk. Involve yourselves in projects. Here are some ideas:
Adopt a puppy, a dysfunctional family or a third world country. See how your teamwork plays itself out.
Start a campaign to bring free meals back to the airlines or a public service project to teach diction to President Bush. Measure each other’s idealism when working on your social activism.
6. Assess character traits
Physical beauty is great, but character traits outlive our looks. Is your date kind to strangers, patient with children, and playful with DMV employees? If not, remember that magical word: Next.
7. Analyze your personality change
Does she bring out your best, your worst, or perhaps your secret desire to open up a Viking restaurant? Is this transformed person you become in her presence the one with whom you want to spend the rest of your life?
.3 Deciding
In his book, Blink, Malcolm Gladwell discusses our ability to make decisions based on instinct. While you shouldn’t agree to get married based on your gut feelings alone, steps 1-7 will help you confirm what you already intuited after the first .3 seconds of meeting your date. If your conscious and unconscious minds are on the same page, then go for it. If not, then test out your teamwork in a different third world country.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and training sessions at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published next year. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. Visit his blog at http://bengoldfarb.blogspot.com.
© Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
But last year
I wasn't much of a swimmer, but for some reason, I joined the swim team anyway. I don't know what motivated me to inflict this punishment on myself. I dove into the ice cold water every weekday morning of my summer vacation at 7 o'clock. I asked myself the same question that many athletes ask during challenging times, "What am I doing out of bed?"
Our team had a meeting at the beginning of each week. We would discuss various issues such as upcoming field trips, facts and fantasies about the teams with whom we would be competing, and whether or not Mark Spitz would drop by for a surprise visit to show us his 7 gold medals.
Invariably, Molly, our "butterfly" champion, would utter her infamous phrase during these meetings. Her tonality was not unlike the sound of a hamster doing a Madonna impression.
“But last year…..”
In her 11 year old brain, she would look at current reality and compare it to a similar situation the year before. If the realities were the same, she would remain quiet.
However, if the two scenarios were different, her nervous system would send a command to her mouth to say those words in a whining voice "But last year…..”
I’m a patient guy and I have a high tolerance for pain. I can tune out annoying people and their wretched tonality.
However, our coach was different. Yelling was one of his hobbies. Anger shouldn't be managed, he reasoned, it should be cultivated.
Coach Miller used to be a truck driver, a Latin tutor and a short order cook. He was forced into early retirement because he tried to do these jobs at the same time.
He was stuck with us now. Ironically, Molly was only the subject of his wrath one time per season. He could hear Molly’s whining "but last year" the entire summer without reacting. However, when the red line was crossed, he blew up at Molly way out of proportion to her offense.
Towards the end of the season, Coach Miller started talking to us about the upcoming swim meet. We were instructed to bring our own lunches this year. He was about to explain why this was different than last year when Molly raised her hand.
We all signaled to her to put her hand down. Her best friend was begging her to be quiet.
Molly was insistent. We all braced ourselves for the fallout.
"But last year…" Molly started.
Coach Miller stopped what he was saying and looked deep into Molly’s eyes.
I could smell the chlorine rising from the pool and the faint odor of Jack Daniels on Coach Miller's breath. Someone's transistor radio was playing "Free Bird."
He clenched his fists and was about to throw his clipboard to the ground. Suddenly, his central nervous system gave him a new command. He had some kind of epiphany.
He took a deep breath and said the following. "The Good Lord didn’t bless me and my wife with our own kids. I see all of you as my own children. I love each member of this swim team like you are my own flesh and blood."
"Then why do you yell at us all the time," I asked, expecting to be thrown into the pool.
"I’m tough on you because I want to prepare you for the real world, which is a lot tougher than I am."
Coach Miller continued, "I’m not just speaking to Molly now, but I’m speaking to all of you. Just because something was done “last year” doesn’t mean it was right. It may have been the correct thing then, but not necessarily. We have to learn to think out of the box and do what’s best for us this year and next year, and not just what we did in the past."
"I admire Molly for speaking up. And I want to publicly apologize for every time I yelled at her, and for that matter, for every time I yelled at all of you."
We had never heard the coach apologize for anything.
"My yelling came from a place of love, and now I have to show how much I love you in a different way. I want to thank Molly for teaching me a great lesson."
With that statement, the coach hugged Molly. We had never seen the coach hug anyone except his wife when she picked him up after practice.
We lost the swim meet, but we had a good time. Coach Miller smiled a lot and was very encouraging. He was definitely a new man, and not like last year at all.
At the awards banquet, I received the "Most Improved Swimmer" trophy which I think was a way of thanking me for not drowning and thereby sparing the team from a nasty law suit.
Our team had a meeting at the beginning of each week. We would discuss various issues such as upcoming field trips, facts and fantasies about the teams with whom we would be competing, and whether or not Mark Spitz would drop by for a surprise visit to show us his 7 gold medals.
Invariably, Molly, our "butterfly" champion, would utter her infamous phrase during these meetings. Her tonality was not unlike the sound of a hamster doing a Madonna impression.
“But last year…..”
In her 11 year old brain, she would look at current reality and compare it to a similar situation the year before. If the realities were the same, she would remain quiet.
However, if the two scenarios were different, her nervous system would send a command to her mouth to say those words in a whining voice "But last year…..”
I’m a patient guy and I have a high tolerance for pain. I can tune out annoying people and their wretched tonality.
However, our coach was different. Yelling was one of his hobbies. Anger shouldn't be managed, he reasoned, it should be cultivated.
Coach Miller used to be a truck driver, a Latin tutor and a short order cook. He was forced into early retirement because he tried to do these jobs at the same time.
He was stuck with us now. Ironically, Molly was only the subject of his wrath one time per season. He could hear Molly’s whining "but last year" the entire summer without reacting. However, when the red line was crossed, he blew up at Molly way out of proportion to her offense.
Towards the end of the season, Coach Miller started talking to us about the upcoming swim meet. We were instructed to bring our own lunches this year. He was about to explain why this was different than last year when Molly raised her hand.
We all signaled to her to put her hand down. Her best friend was begging her to be quiet.
Molly was insistent. We all braced ourselves for the fallout.
"But last year…" Molly started.
Coach Miller stopped what he was saying and looked deep into Molly’s eyes.
I could smell the chlorine rising from the pool and the faint odor of Jack Daniels on Coach Miller's breath. Someone's transistor radio was playing "Free Bird."
He clenched his fists and was about to throw his clipboard to the ground. Suddenly, his central nervous system gave him a new command. He had some kind of epiphany.
He took a deep breath and said the following. "The Good Lord didn’t bless me and my wife with our own kids. I see all of you as my own children. I love each member of this swim team like you are my own flesh and blood."
"Then why do you yell at us all the time," I asked, expecting to be thrown into the pool.
"I’m tough on you because I want to prepare you for the real world, which is a lot tougher than I am."
Coach Miller continued, "I’m not just speaking to Molly now, but I’m speaking to all of you. Just because something was done “last year” doesn’t mean it was right. It may have been the correct thing then, but not necessarily. We have to learn to think out of the box and do what’s best for us this year and next year, and not just what we did in the past."
"I admire Molly for speaking up. And I want to publicly apologize for every time I yelled at her, and for that matter, for every time I yelled at all of you."
We had never heard the coach apologize for anything.
"My yelling came from a place of love, and now I have to show how much I love you in a different way. I want to thank Molly for teaching me a great lesson."
With that statement, the coach hugged Molly. We had never seen the coach hug anyone except his wife when she picked him up after practice.
We lost the swim meet, but we had a good time. Coach Miller smiled a lot and was very encouraging. He was definitely a new man, and not like last year at all.
At the awards banquet, I received the "Most Improved Swimmer" trophy which I think was a way of thanking me for not drowning and thereby sparing the team from a nasty law suit.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
The 7.3 secrets of raising children
Although many kids feel they are raising their parents (http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull&cid=1192380814685), we have the ominous task of raising the next generation of hard working, moral, and table-mannered citizens.
Parenting is both the most difficult and the most rewarding profession on earth. It is riddled with a mixture of joy, sadness, and the constant worry that one of our children will end up being a game show host.
Here are the 7.3 secrets that will make raising kids easier, more effective, and relatively guilt-free.
1. Leading
Our children are going to learn by our example. If we want them to be generous, then we have to give them a generous example to follow. If we lead a healthy lifestyle, they will emulate us. Keep in mind that they will probably copy our negative character traits as well.
2. Controlling
Attempting to control our kids will be as effective as trying to drive a car while locked in the trunk. Instead of seeing ourselves as drill sergeants, we should picture ourselves as flight instructors, gently sharing our wisdom with our kids from the co-pilot seat. Although we might have to act quickly at times to prevent them from heading into a tailspin, they need to be trained to fly solo as soon as possible.
3. Motivating
All motivation boils down to self-motivation. We have to teach our kids to care enough about their lives to motivate themselves without our intervention. Despite the best of intentions, when we try to motivate our kids, our cajoling is often interpreted as tyrannical and can backfire on us.
4. Rewarding
The anticipation of a reward always works better than the threat of a punishment. This is true not only for kids, but also for adults and most circus animals.
5. Acting
If you are trying to act cool in front of your kids, I have one word of advice: don’t. They see right through attempts to dress like them and listen to their music. They have enough bad examples in their lives without us adding to them. We have to be ourselves, as nerdy as that might appear on the surface.
6. Loving
We have to teach our kids to love life. If we don't generate and receive love, we run the risk of bailing our children out of jail or hiring deprogrammers to get them out of cults.
7. Living
We have to live in the moment with our kids. They grow up faster than we can even imagine. Take the time to enjoy the pockets of eternity that we call parenting. If we blink one too many times, we will miss their entire childhood.
.3 Respecting
We can’t treat our children like sub-humans, i.e., less than a whole person and only a decimal. Even though they are smaller than us, they are human beings and have feelings. Although they might be capable of torturing their siblings in ways that even Torquemada never considered, they are nonetheless sensitive souls. While kids are supposed to honor their parents, we have an obligation to treat them with a modicum of decency, even when others aren’t looking.
These secrets are only guidelines and are not intended as a complete list. Parenting is an ongoing challenge and the rules seem to change all the time. We must enjoy our kids and do our best. And remember that there are worse things than our children hosting "Wheel of Fortune".
Parenting is both the most difficult and the most rewarding profession on earth. It is riddled with a mixture of joy, sadness, and the constant worry that one of our children will end up being a game show host.
Here are the 7.3 secrets that will make raising kids easier, more effective, and relatively guilt-free.
1. Leading
Our children are going to learn by our example. If we want them to be generous, then we have to give them a generous example to follow. If we lead a healthy lifestyle, they will emulate us. Keep in mind that they will probably copy our negative character traits as well.
2. Controlling
Attempting to control our kids will be as effective as trying to drive a car while locked in the trunk. Instead of seeing ourselves as drill sergeants, we should picture ourselves as flight instructors, gently sharing our wisdom with our kids from the co-pilot seat. Although we might have to act quickly at times to prevent them from heading into a tailspin, they need to be trained to fly solo as soon as possible.
3. Motivating
All motivation boils down to self-motivation. We have to teach our kids to care enough about their lives to motivate themselves without our intervention. Despite the best of intentions, when we try to motivate our kids, our cajoling is often interpreted as tyrannical and can backfire on us.
4. Rewarding
The anticipation of a reward always works better than the threat of a punishment. This is true not only for kids, but also for adults and most circus animals.
5. Acting
If you are trying to act cool in front of your kids, I have one word of advice: don’t. They see right through attempts to dress like them and listen to their music. They have enough bad examples in their lives without us adding to them. We have to be ourselves, as nerdy as that might appear on the surface.
6. Loving
We have to teach our kids to love life. If we don't generate and receive love, we run the risk of bailing our children out of jail or hiring deprogrammers to get them out of cults.
7. Living
We have to live in the moment with our kids. They grow up faster than we can even imagine. Take the time to enjoy the pockets of eternity that we call parenting. If we blink one too many times, we will miss their entire childhood.
.3 Respecting
We can’t treat our children like sub-humans, i.e., less than a whole person and only a decimal. Even though they are smaller than us, they are human beings and have feelings. Although they might be capable of torturing their siblings in ways that even Torquemada never considered, they are nonetheless sensitive souls. While kids are supposed to honor their parents, we have an obligation to treat them with a modicum of decency, even when others aren’t looking.
These secrets are only guidelines and are not intended as a complete list. Parenting is an ongoing challenge and the rules seem to change all the time. We must enjoy our kids and do our best. And remember that there are worse things than our children hosting "Wheel of Fortune".
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
He comes to your emotional rescue
Kevin Neil had the all the warning signs of a hijacker. Nervous affect, beady eyes, and uneven sideburns. But no airport security system in the world could detect his weapon. He was interrogated and searched by uniformed personnel and was allowed to board, even though he was indeed armed. His weapon was the uncanny ability to make everyone around him feel real bad.
You see, Kevin was an emotional terrorist. An emotional terrorist is not to be confused with a terrorist who has frequent mood swings. An emotional terrorist has the ability to manipulate the emotions of others. Using only his voice, he can terrorize his victims into a near comatose state of despair. This is not a good state to be in if you are piloting a plane.
However, Kevin picked a bad day to hijack flight 420 from San Francisco to LA. Justin Smythe, a counter emotional-terrorist expert, was on the flight. But Justin wouldn’t be the one to subdue Kevin.
Thirty minutes into the flight, Kevin stood up and grabbed the PA system from the flight attendant.
“Don’t worry. I’m not armed. I just want to make an announcement,” Kevin said.
The passengers were already starting to feel bad. Kevin had a droning voice which acted like a depression-inducing trance.
“I need to go on Oprah, and I need to do it today,” Kevin said.
All of the passengers, except for Justin, who was immune to Kevin’s manipulation, were feeling brow-beaten and passive.
One of the passengers managed to say, “Why do you want to go on Oprah?”
Because I need a larger audience to share my pain with. I’m really sorry to inconvenience you. But I must fly to Chicago. She goes live in a few hours.”
Justin stood up. “And if we disagree?”
“Who are you? And why are you smiling?” Kevin asked.
“You don’t intimidate me,” Justin said.
“I was just about to say the same thing to you. But you are too late, cowboy. Watch this.” Kevin said.
Kevin grabbed a flight attendant and began whispering something into her ear. She started crying and collapsed on the floor in a fit of desperation and misery.
“You don’t want me to do that to the pilot, do you?” Kevin asked.
All of the passengers nodded their heads from left to right and were beginning to feel much worse.
Justin said, “I bet you told the flight attendant about your high school prom, didn’t you?
Kevin answered, “Yes, but how did you know?”
“Because most of you emotional terrorists have the same sad stories, and they usually revolve around prom night.”
“What’s it to you?” Kevin asked.
"Watch this buddy," Justin said, as he ran to the flight attendant. Justin whispered something in her ear, and she started laughing uncontrollably. She stood, up, took a deep breath of air, and resumed her duties.
Kevin said, “So you told her about your silver medal in the Olympics, right?
“How’d you know?” Justin asked.
“All you counter emotional-terrorists are the same. Ex-athletes with nothing better to do than bully people like me.” Kevin said.
The passengers were on an emotional rollercoaster, first excited about Justin saving the day and then depressed at Kevin’s caustic rebuttal.
“Both of you are losers,” a 17 year-old named Darren stood up and said.
“Who are you?” Kevin asked.
"My name is Darren. I might have tattoos all over my body, and colored hair, and spend most of my time surfing, but there’s one thing I do know.”
“What’s that?” Justin asked, fearing that he would be upstaged by Darren.
"I don’t let the Kevins of the world get me down, and I don’t need Justins to cheer me up.” Darren said.
“But who makes you feel good or bad?” An elderly passenger asked.
“I chose my own feelings,” the surfer said.
The passengers were in shock. Even Kevin seemed impressed. But he had to act quickly. If Darren’s idea got popular, Kevin would be out of a job and he would never be on TV.
“Think about it people,” Darren said as he strolled up to the front of the plane. “Don’t ask what kind of mood you are in. Don’t rely on other people to choose your feelings for you. Ask yourself what mood you want to be in and then just do it.”
“But how?” Justin asked. They didn’t teach that skill in his counter emotional-terrorist course.
“It’s hard to understand if you aren’t a surfer. But trust me. It works. You just have to try,” Justin explained.
Kevin went back to his seat and started crying. Justin was a little depressed because he was made redundant by a kid. But most of the passengers were lost in thought, trying to figure out ways to choose their own emotions.
The plane landed safely a few moments later. The passengers decided not to press charges against Kevin, nor to tell Justin’s superiors that he was unable to sequester the airborne menace. But most of them did sign up with Darren for surfing lessons.
You see, Kevin was an emotional terrorist. An emotional terrorist is not to be confused with a terrorist who has frequent mood swings. An emotional terrorist has the ability to manipulate the emotions of others. Using only his voice, he can terrorize his victims into a near comatose state of despair. This is not a good state to be in if you are piloting a plane.
However, Kevin picked a bad day to hijack flight 420 from San Francisco to LA. Justin Smythe, a counter emotional-terrorist expert, was on the flight. But Justin wouldn’t be the one to subdue Kevin.
Thirty minutes into the flight, Kevin stood up and grabbed the PA system from the flight attendant.
“Don’t worry. I’m not armed. I just want to make an announcement,” Kevin said.
The passengers were already starting to feel bad. Kevin had a droning voice which acted like a depression-inducing trance.
“I need to go on Oprah, and I need to do it today,” Kevin said.
All of the passengers, except for Justin, who was immune to Kevin’s manipulation, were feeling brow-beaten and passive.
One of the passengers managed to say, “Why do you want to go on Oprah?”
Because I need a larger audience to share my pain with. I’m really sorry to inconvenience you. But I must fly to Chicago. She goes live in a few hours.”
Justin stood up. “And if we disagree?”
“Who are you? And why are you smiling?” Kevin asked.
“You don’t intimidate me,” Justin said.
“I was just about to say the same thing to you. But you are too late, cowboy. Watch this.” Kevin said.
Kevin grabbed a flight attendant and began whispering something into her ear. She started crying and collapsed on the floor in a fit of desperation and misery.
“You don’t want me to do that to the pilot, do you?” Kevin asked.
All of the passengers nodded their heads from left to right and were beginning to feel much worse.
Justin said, “I bet you told the flight attendant about your high school prom, didn’t you?
Kevin answered, “Yes, but how did you know?”
“Because most of you emotional terrorists have the same sad stories, and they usually revolve around prom night.”
“What’s it to you?” Kevin asked.
"Watch this buddy," Justin said, as he ran to the flight attendant. Justin whispered something in her ear, and she started laughing uncontrollably. She stood, up, took a deep breath of air, and resumed her duties.
Kevin said, “So you told her about your silver medal in the Olympics, right?
“How’d you know?” Justin asked.
“All you counter emotional-terrorists are the same. Ex-athletes with nothing better to do than bully people like me.” Kevin said.
The passengers were on an emotional rollercoaster, first excited about Justin saving the day and then depressed at Kevin’s caustic rebuttal.
“Both of you are losers,” a 17 year-old named Darren stood up and said.
“Who are you?” Kevin asked.
"My name is Darren. I might have tattoos all over my body, and colored hair, and spend most of my time surfing, but there’s one thing I do know.”
“What’s that?” Justin asked, fearing that he would be upstaged by Darren.
"I don’t let the Kevins of the world get me down, and I don’t need Justins to cheer me up.” Darren said.
“But who makes you feel good or bad?” An elderly passenger asked.
“I chose my own feelings,” the surfer said.
The passengers were in shock. Even Kevin seemed impressed. But he had to act quickly. If Darren’s idea got popular, Kevin would be out of a job and he would never be on TV.
“Think about it people,” Darren said as he strolled up to the front of the plane. “Don’t ask what kind of mood you are in. Don’t rely on other people to choose your feelings for you. Ask yourself what mood you want to be in and then just do it.”
“But how?” Justin asked. They didn’t teach that skill in his counter emotional-terrorist course.
“It’s hard to understand if you aren’t a surfer. But trust me. It works. You just have to try,” Justin explained.
Kevin went back to his seat and started crying. Justin was a little depressed because he was made redundant by a kid. But most of the passengers were lost in thought, trying to figure out ways to choose their own emotions.
The plane landed safely a few moments later. The passengers decided not to press charges against Kevin, nor to tell Justin’s superiors that he was unable to sequester the airborne menace. But most of them did sign up with Darren for surfing lessons.
Monday, April 14, 2008
The world’s youngest miracle worker
Karen wasn’t much different than most of her 10 year old peers. She loved rollerblading, watched "High School Musical" 1 and 2, and enjoyed outsmarting her parents whenever possible. The main difference between her and her classmates was that Karen could perform miracles.
She learned about her gift during a slumber party at her house. At midnight, Karen and her friends played a game in which Karen pretended she was a genie. Her friends asked the genie to grant their wishes.
One friend asked for a pony, another begged for her estranged parents to reunite, and the third requested a sneak preview of "High School Musical" 3, which wasn’t even in production yet. The game ended, and the girls fell asleep.
When Karen’s friends returned home, all of their dreams had materialized. One after another, they called Karen in a frenzy, telling her she was a miracle worker.
When Karen found out that her gift was real, she wanted to share this information with someone. Who could she trust implicitly with this revelation? Since she couldn't think of any logical candidates, she went ahead and told her parents.
Nigel and Janet were sympathetic and when Karen told them the news, they tried their best to avoid sounding skeptical. Karen knew that they didn’t believe her. She asked each of them to make a wish, and then they would have no choice but to take her seriously once the wishes came true.
Her parents humored her and verbalized their requests. Janet asked for a remodeled kitchen. Peter wanted a zoning permit that would allow him to open upon his garage across the street. He wanted to minimize his daily commute to work. The municipality had turned down his request for 5 years straight.
After a few minutes when neither wish materialized, Karen’s parents gently told her that she should give up her fantasy and just be happy being a normal 10 year old girl. Karen calmly informed her parents that the wishes only come true the following day. Her parents smiled and kissed her goodnight.
The next morning, Karen’s family was awoken by the doorbell at 7 am. Janet put on a bathrobe and answered the door. It was a FedEx messenger with a registered letter. She scribbled her signature and then went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Before Janet could put water in the kettle, she let out a scream that could have woken up the entire neighborhood.
Karen and Nigel ran downstairs to find out what happened to Janet. They arrived within seconds to see Janet hyperventilating in her beautifully remodeled kitchen. The room was a visual symphony of stainless steel, chrome, glass block, and Italian marble. In her panic, Jane dropped the registered letter.
Peter picked up the envelope and found the long awaited zoning permit inside.
Karen was laughing but refused to say “I told you so.”
“Karen, you can only share this gift with a few trusted people. Otherwise, we will be mobbed by people who want you to grant their wishes,” Nigel said.
But it was too late. The word was already out. Karen’s friends had told their family about the world’s youngest miracle worker. The tipping point had been reached. There was already a long line of people waiting to see Karen and get their wish.
“Since it’s a done deal, Karen, we’ve got to set up some ground rules,” Jane said.
“Like what?” Karen asked, excited to start her new job.
“Well, you can see people an hour a day after you’ve done your homework,” Jane said.
“Mom,” she pleaded. “I can save the world and you are treating me like a child.”
“You are a child, Karen.” Jane said. “You have a gift, but you can’t neglect yourself in the process.”
Karen reluctantly agreed to her parent’s restrictions.
Karen kept her reception hour 5 days a week. The lines were huge and hundreds of people had to be turned away each day. The family had to hire a full time administrator to filter through the email and fax requests that came in 24/7. Only a handful of the requests were deemed worthy of consideration.
The family had decided not to charge for this service, reasoning that this would somehow taint the gift and perhaps even cause it to vanish as quickly as it arrived.
In the meantime, Peter’s business was booming. While people were waiting to see Karen, many of them brought their cars in for a tune up or repairs in his conveniently located garage. Jane served refreshments to waiting customers and got clients for her new interior design business.
However, the situation wasn’t as pleasant for Karen. Her social life was eroding at a rapid pace. Instead of her celebrity status buttressing her popularity, it decreased it. Karen was seen as a 21st century wizard at best, or some kind of freak at worst.
As Karen was about to reach her 6th month anniversary with her gift, she asked her assistant to close shop a few minutes early. Karen was finally going to grant herself a wish for a change.
Her wish was two-fold. The first part was to release herself from her magical powers.
Before she continued to the second part of the wish, she was immediately flooded with guilt. Was she being selfish in wanted to rid herself of her gift? Shouldn’t she be using her magic to create world peace and fight hunger, crime and disease?
So what if she had no friends. That would be the price she would have to pay in order to create a better world.
Karen then reminded herself that her gift was only the ability to grant wishes for what people wanted. Most of her clients’ requests were for material things such as money, cars and instant plastic surgery.
If enough people wanted world peace, then there would be world peace, she reasoned. We haven’t fed the starving people in the world because not enough people desire that outcome yet.
With a clear conscience, Karen asked for the second half of the wish. Her desire was that humanity would be granted the wisdom to want the correct things. She wanted the world’s population to pine for the elements that would edify humanity, and not just satisfy their selfish needs.
As she felt the magic leave her soul, she wondered how long it would take for the global tipping point to take place.
-- -- --
{italic}{bold}Ben Goldfarb{/bold}was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book {italic} Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future{/italic} will be published in the spring. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the {url http://pdshiftcoaching.com/} Paradigm Shift Communications{/url}website, or send an email to {email ben@pdshiftcoaching.com}ben@pdshiftcoaching.com{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb{/italic}
She learned about her gift during a slumber party at her house. At midnight, Karen and her friends played a game in which Karen pretended she was a genie. Her friends asked the genie to grant their wishes.
One friend asked for a pony, another begged for her estranged parents to reunite, and the third requested a sneak preview of "High School Musical" 3, which wasn’t even in production yet. The game ended, and the girls fell asleep.
When Karen’s friends returned home, all of their dreams had materialized. One after another, they called Karen in a frenzy, telling her she was a miracle worker.
When Karen found out that her gift was real, she wanted to share this information with someone. Who could she trust implicitly with this revelation? Since she couldn't think of any logical candidates, she went ahead and told her parents.
Nigel and Janet were sympathetic and when Karen told them the news, they tried their best to avoid sounding skeptical. Karen knew that they didn’t believe her. She asked each of them to make a wish, and then they would have no choice but to take her seriously once the wishes came true.
Her parents humored her and verbalized their requests. Janet asked for a remodeled kitchen. Peter wanted a zoning permit that would allow him to open upon his garage across the street. He wanted to minimize his daily commute to work. The municipality had turned down his request for 5 years straight.
After a few minutes when neither wish materialized, Karen’s parents gently told her that she should give up her fantasy and just be happy being a normal 10 year old girl. Karen calmly informed her parents that the wishes only come true the following day. Her parents smiled and kissed her goodnight.
The next morning, Karen’s family was awoken by the doorbell at 7 am. Janet put on a bathrobe and answered the door. It was a FedEx messenger with a registered letter. She scribbled her signature and then went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Before Janet could put water in the kettle, she let out a scream that could have woken up the entire neighborhood.
Karen and Nigel ran downstairs to find out what happened to Janet. They arrived within seconds to see Janet hyperventilating in her beautifully remodeled kitchen. The room was a visual symphony of stainless steel, chrome, glass block, and Italian marble. In her panic, Jane dropped the registered letter.
Peter picked up the envelope and found the long awaited zoning permit inside.
Karen was laughing but refused to say “I told you so.”
“Karen, you can only share this gift with a few trusted people. Otherwise, we will be mobbed by people who want you to grant their wishes,” Nigel said.
But it was too late. The word was already out. Karen’s friends had told their family about the world’s youngest miracle worker. The tipping point had been reached. There was already a long line of people waiting to see Karen and get their wish.
“Since it’s a done deal, Karen, we’ve got to set up some ground rules,” Jane said.
“Like what?” Karen asked, excited to start her new job.
“Well, you can see people an hour a day after you’ve done your homework,” Jane said.
“Mom,” she pleaded. “I can save the world and you are treating me like a child.”
“You are a child, Karen.” Jane said. “You have a gift, but you can’t neglect yourself in the process.”
Karen reluctantly agreed to her parent’s restrictions.
Karen kept her reception hour 5 days a week. The lines were huge and hundreds of people had to be turned away each day. The family had to hire a full time administrator to filter through the email and fax requests that came in 24/7. Only a handful of the requests were deemed worthy of consideration.
The family had decided not to charge for this service, reasoning that this would somehow taint the gift and perhaps even cause it to vanish as quickly as it arrived.
In the meantime, Peter’s business was booming. While people were waiting to see Karen, many of them brought their cars in for a tune up or repairs in his conveniently located garage. Jane served refreshments to waiting customers and got clients for her new interior design business.
However, the situation wasn’t as pleasant for Karen. Her social life was eroding at a rapid pace. Instead of her celebrity status buttressing her popularity, it decreased it. Karen was seen as a 21st century wizard at best, or some kind of freak at worst.
As Karen was about to reach her 6th month anniversary with her gift, she asked her assistant to close shop a few minutes early. Karen was finally going to grant herself a wish for a change.
Her wish was two-fold. The first part was to release herself from her magical powers.
Before she continued to the second part of the wish, she was immediately flooded with guilt. Was she being selfish in wanted to rid herself of her gift? Shouldn’t she be using her magic to create world peace and fight hunger, crime and disease?
So what if she had no friends. That would be the price she would have to pay in order to create a better world.
Karen then reminded herself that her gift was only the ability to grant wishes for what people wanted. Most of her clients’ requests were for material things such as money, cars and instant plastic surgery.
If enough people wanted world peace, then there would be world peace, she reasoned. We haven’t fed the starving people in the world because not enough people desire that outcome yet.
With a clear conscience, Karen asked for the second half of the wish. Her desire was that humanity would be granted the wisdom to want the correct things. She wanted the world’s population to pine for the elements that would edify humanity, and not just satisfy their selfish needs.
As she felt the magic leave her soul, she wondered how long it would take for the global tipping point to take place.
-- -- --
{italic}{bold}Ben Goldfarb{/bold}was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book {italic} Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future{/italic} will be published in the spring. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the {url http://pdshiftcoaching.com/} Paradigm Shift Communications{/url}website, or send an email to {email ben@pdshiftcoaching.com}ben@pdshiftcoaching.com{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb{/italic}
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
The 7.3 magical rules for a happy marriage
The following rules will make a challenged marriage good, a good marriage better, and if we are lucky, put divorce lawyers out of business.
1. Dating
Most experts and laypeople agree that it’s a good idea to stop dating right after your engagement. Studies have shown that dating while engaged or married can lead to some minor misunderstandings and should be avoided at all costs.
2. Metaphors
Select a metaphor that best defines your marriage. Some couples see themselves as co-pilots on a transatlantic journey. Others view themselves as vice presidents of a corporation. I met a couple recently who sees their marriage as an intricate game involving Nerf ™ balls, spatulas, and mosquito netting.
3. Create a joint mission statement
Companies and non-profit organizations are encouraged to create and maintain mission statements. Married couples can benefit from this same advice. Keep the mission statement short, to the point, and write it in a language that neither one of you understands. One of the tricks of a happy marriage is being artfully vague whenever possible.
4. Job descriptions
I’m a big advocate of romance in marriage. (See number 5.) However, we can learn from corporate America how to set the stage for a good marriage. (See http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?cid=1198517273463&pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull). Write up your job descriptions so that each of you knows what is expected from the other. This can include household chores, financial obligations and taking turns being emotionally strong, weak, or domineering.
5. Romance
Go out once a week for some fun and romance. You are not allowed to talk about money during these outings. Shopping for mundane items before, during, or after the event is strictly forbidden. Divide up the conversation fairly. For example, when my wife and I go out, I spend the first half of dinner discussing my hopes, dreams and aspirations. During the second half of the meal, my wife gives me her feedback about what I said.
6. Five-year plans
Write a joint five-year plan. Set your financial, spiritual, emotional, and entertainment goals. Evaluate your progress each quarter. Reward yourself for each success and brutally punish yourself for every failure.
7. Tupperware ™
Buy lots of Tupperware ™. I have no vested interest in Tupperware ™, nor do I plan on becoming a distributor. I’ve never even been to a Tupperware ™ party, although I’ve heard they can get pretty wild. However, Tupperware ™ products maintain the “cook and freeze” lifestyle that might contribute more to marital bliss than any other single factor.
“.3”
While we are striving to be “one” in our relationships, no one can underestimate the importance of temporarily diminishing yourself in relation to your spouse. You and your significant other can takes turns being the decimal in the relationship. This will not only teach you humility, it will help you brush up on your math skills.
Don’t worry if you didn’t have a chance to put these rules into effect from the beginning of your marriage. You can start at anytime. I’ve seen marriages improve miraculously by applying these 7.3 rules. I’ve also heard about a couple who not only upgraded their marriage by internalizing these lessons, but is now lobbying in Beijing to include their Nerf ™ ball event in the next Olympics.
1. Dating
Most experts and laypeople agree that it’s a good idea to stop dating right after your engagement. Studies have shown that dating while engaged or married can lead to some minor misunderstandings and should be avoided at all costs.
2. Metaphors
Select a metaphor that best defines your marriage. Some couples see themselves as co-pilots on a transatlantic journey. Others view themselves as vice presidents of a corporation. I met a couple recently who sees their marriage as an intricate game involving Nerf ™ balls, spatulas, and mosquito netting.
3. Create a joint mission statement
Companies and non-profit organizations are encouraged to create and maintain mission statements. Married couples can benefit from this same advice. Keep the mission statement short, to the point, and write it in a language that neither one of you understands. One of the tricks of a happy marriage is being artfully vague whenever possible.
4. Job descriptions
I’m a big advocate of romance in marriage. (See number 5.) However, we can learn from corporate America how to set the stage for a good marriage. (See http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?cid=1198517273463&pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull). Write up your job descriptions so that each of you knows what is expected from the other. This can include household chores, financial obligations and taking turns being emotionally strong, weak, or domineering.
5. Romance
Go out once a week for some fun and romance. You are not allowed to talk about money during these outings. Shopping for mundane items before, during, or after the event is strictly forbidden. Divide up the conversation fairly. For example, when my wife and I go out, I spend the first half of dinner discussing my hopes, dreams and aspirations. During the second half of the meal, my wife gives me her feedback about what I said.
6. Five-year plans
Write a joint five-year plan. Set your financial, spiritual, emotional, and entertainment goals. Evaluate your progress each quarter. Reward yourself for each success and brutally punish yourself for every failure.
7. Tupperware ™
Buy lots of Tupperware ™. I have no vested interest in Tupperware ™, nor do I plan on becoming a distributor. I’ve never even been to a Tupperware ™ party, although I’ve heard they can get pretty wild. However, Tupperware ™ products maintain the “cook and freeze” lifestyle that might contribute more to marital bliss than any other single factor.
“.3”
While we are striving to be “one” in our relationships, no one can underestimate the importance of temporarily diminishing yourself in relation to your spouse. You and your significant other can takes turns being the decimal in the relationship. This will not only teach you humility, it will help you brush up on your math skills.
Don’t worry if you didn’t have a chance to put these rules into effect from the beginning of your marriage. You can start at anytime. I’ve seen marriages improve miraculously by applying these 7.3 rules. I’ve also heard about a couple who not only upgraded their marriage by internalizing these lessons, but is now lobbying in Beijing to include their Nerf ™ ball event in the next Olympics.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Return of the Life Auditor
Many of us have audited courses in university, and some of us have been audited by the IRS. However, there’s only one documented case of a person auditing other people’s lives. That person is Henry Wilbanks, class of "07".
A senior at USC, Henry Wilbanks changed majors a record 25 times. And that was just during freshman orientation. His academic advisor, Mr. Tanner, was running out of advice for this wayward student. He was about to give up on Henry when he decided to send him to the controversial dean of the Parapsychology Department, otherwise known as the Department of Last Resort.
Henry walked into Professor Sine's laboratory. It looked like a cross between an Intensive Care Unit and a Polish dentist office. Henry handed Mr. Tanner's note to the professor. As the professor read Tanner's scribbled handwriting, his brow furrowed and his mustache drooped in perfect synchronization.
The professor told Henry that he could volunteer to join an astral projection experiment and receive course credit. Looking for any excuse to get out of studying for his finals, Henry readily agreed. He signed release forms and promised not to mention the experiment to anyone over the age of 8.
"Your life force is going to enter different people of your choosing. Your body will remain in our care here in the lab. This will give you a chance to get first hand experience about different professions and lifestyles."
"You think this will help me decide what I want to be when I grow up?
"We hope so. You will experience a kind of reincarnation without having to die first, a transmigration of your soul, so to speak, with a 30-day escape clause."
"What's that mean?"
"You have 30 days to decide if you want to remain in any particular body permanently, or return to yourself.”
The goal was for Henry to try two or three lifestyles, return to himself, and then be motivated to select a major, graduate, and get a life. However, Henry loved the variety and excitement of life auditing so much that he refused to return to himself and he kept jumping from person to person.
Being a master of indecision, Henry spent three years auditing over 400 lives. He had lived in 39 counties, trying his hand at banking, film directing, and gourmet cooking. He was a CIA agent, a fireman, and even an academic advisor.
Just when he came close to choosing a life to permanently audit or returning to himself, he changed his mind at the last minute. At this rate, Henry was going to end up as a career life auditor.
That was destined to change when Henry woke up one morning in the body of the happiest person he had encountered so far.
In audit number 402, Henry found himself as the father of 8 in an Italian neighborhood in the Bronx. From his surroundings, he could tell his host was lower middle-class, rich in consumer debt, but incredibly happy nonetheless.
In his newest persona, he felt satisfaction, a sense of accomplishment and a quiet pride that required no publicity or fanfare.
Henry had woken up in castles, presidential suites, native huts, and once due to a technical error, in a dog kennel. But something was different about this new life.
His wife called him Antonio. Her voice resonated like an opera singer when she spoke to him. Her blue eyes danced with love when she looked at him. His children, whose ages ranged from a newborn to a senior in high school, waited on him hand and foot as he got ready for work.
Maybe I’ll just be Antonio for the rest of my life, Henry thought. I’ve had money and power, but I’ve never tasted this degree of happiness. Henry wondered what the secret was to Antonio’s contentment.
However, Henry’s other voice kicked in telling him to be careful. He reminded himself that once he made a decision, it was irreversible. Once he chose a new life, he could never go back to himself. After three years of life auditing, Henry was beginning to think he might have a slight problem with making commitments.
After a quick breakfast, Antonio/Henry drove his oldest child to school, and then went to work. He never had a problem navigating within his new lives, because he was just an appendage to an existing life, an additional soul hitching a ride in a self-sustaining creature. He had access to all of the stored memories, instincts, and responses of the host organism, who remained passive during the 30 day visit.
Everyone seemed happy to see Antonio as he walked from his parking space to his company. Why was he so popular? Maybe he was a closet philanthropist who himself lived modestly to hide his wealth. Perhaps he was natural healer or a miracle worker.
When he showed up at his company, Antonio/Henry was almost mobbed by his appreciative employees. This brought back very recent memories of being a rock star. Henry was Bruce Springsteen for 10 days on two different occasions. The "Boss" was the only personality he audited twice.
Antonio/Henry noticed that each employee in his company had either a physical or mental challenge or was a social outcast of one type or another. When he made it past the cheering crowds to his desk, he looked through the employee files. His work force included ex-convicts, recovering alcoholics, escaped cult members and even a former lawyer. Antonio hired people whom no one else would even interview. These employees were filled with gratitude towards Antonio and worked hard to show their appreciation.
Antonio/Henry thumbed through some spreadsheets and saw why Antonio wasn’t a rich man. The company, which was a modest textile outfit, barely broke even each year. Any profits that were made were reinvested in the company or in treatment programs for the employees.
Henry made up his mind. He wanted to remain in Antonio’s body permanently. Antonio was more than Henry could ever become on his own. Henry recited the official incantation that Professor Sine taught him.
“I am now one with Antonio. Antonio and I will now share the same body and life. He will now have two life forces, and I will not interfere with his life. I will only enrich it. Antonio will always have the power of veto over any of my decisions. “
Just then Professor Sine appeared.
“Congratulations, Henry, on finally making a decision. I’m proud of you,” the professor said.
“Thanks Professor.” Antonio/Henry answered.
“However, I can’t let you become Antonio.”
“Why not? Those were the rules.”
“I lied”
“That’s comforting. What else did you lie about?”
“That’s it. Just one untruth. And it’s for your own good.” Sine said.
“Yeah, go ahead, tell me how you are saving me from myself,” Henry said, expecting the professor to echo Mr. Tanner's non-stop lectures.
“Now that you finally saw a life that you respect, a life where you can give to others and be happy as a result of it, it’s now your job to return to Henry and use Antonio as a role model.”
“But, how?”
“You’ve learned from over 400 experts. You have more stored knowledge about life and business strategies than most people can acquire in a lifetime. You can go back to Henry, and do an even better job than Antonio can.”
“But, Professor, I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“You are ready.” With that statement, the professor left Antonio’s/Henry’s office just as quickly as he arrived. Antonio/Henry ran after him, but he couldn’t find him anywhere.
Antonio/Henry returned to his office, put his head on his desk and fell asleep. When he woke up, Henry was back at USC in the parapsychology lab.
Henry got out of bed, disoriented with his reunion with his original body. His head was spinning with memories of hundreds of short but intense relationships he had started and stopped with virtual families, employees, and bosses. He felt a sense of loss and longing.
He quickly left this reverie. There was no time to get sentimental or nostalgic about the past three years of life auditing. He had work to do.
Henry was excited about his new career path. He would start a company just like Antonio’s, but he would go global within a few years. For the first time in his life, Henry felt happy and he was imbued with a sense of purpose and mission. However, the happiness he felt was emanating from the prism of his own soul, and not from Antonio’s or any of the other hundreds of souls he audited.
He would take the first steps to start his company today, right after he had his teeth cleaned.
A senior at USC, Henry Wilbanks changed majors a record 25 times. And that was just during freshman orientation. His academic advisor, Mr. Tanner, was running out of advice for this wayward student. He was about to give up on Henry when he decided to send him to the controversial dean of the Parapsychology Department, otherwise known as the Department of Last Resort.
Henry walked into Professor Sine's laboratory. It looked like a cross between an Intensive Care Unit and a Polish dentist office. Henry handed Mr. Tanner's note to the professor. As the professor read Tanner's scribbled handwriting, his brow furrowed and his mustache drooped in perfect synchronization.
The professor told Henry that he could volunteer to join an astral projection experiment and receive course credit. Looking for any excuse to get out of studying for his finals, Henry readily agreed. He signed release forms and promised not to mention the experiment to anyone over the age of 8.
"Your life force is going to enter different people of your choosing. Your body will remain in our care here in the lab. This will give you a chance to get first hand experience about different professions and lifestyles."
"You think this will help me decide what I want to be when I grow up?
"We hope so. You will experience a kind of reincarnation without having to die first, a transmigration of your soul, so to speak, with a 30-day escape clause."
"What's that mean?"
"You have 30 days to decide if you want to remain in any particular body permanently, or return to yourself.”
The goal was for Henry to try two or three lifestyles, return to himself, and then be motivated to select a major, graduate, and get a life. However, Henry loved the variety and excitement of life auditing so much that he refused to return to himself and he kept jumping from person to person.
Being a master of indecision, Henry spent three years auditing over 400 lives. He had lived in 39 counties, trying his hand at banking, film directing, and gourmet cooking. He was a CIA agent, a fireman, and even an academic advisor.
Just when he came close to choosing a life to permanently audit or returning to himself, he changed his mind at the last minute. At this rate, Henry was going to end up as a career life auditor.
That was destined to change when Henry woke up one morning in the body of the happiest person he had encountered so far.
In audit number 402, Henry found himself as the father of 8 in an Italian neighborhood in the Bronx. From his surroundings, he could tell his host was lower middle-class, rich in consumer debt, but incredibly happy nonetheless.
In his newest persona, he felt satisfaction, a sense of accomplishment and a quiet pride that required no publicity or fanfare.
Henry had woken up in castles, presidential suites, native huts, and once due to a technical error, in a dog kennel. But something was different about this new life.
His wife called him Antonio. Her voice resonated like an opera singer when she spoke to him. Her blue eyes danced with love when she looked at him. His children, whose ages ranged from a newborn to a senior in high school, waited on him hand and foot as he got ready for work.
Maybe I’ll just be Antonio for the rest of my life, Henry thought. I’ve had money and power, but I’ve never tasted this degree of happiness. Henry wondered what the secret was to Antonio’s contentment.
However, Henry’s other voice kicked in telling him to be careful. He reminded himself that once he made a decision, it was irreversible. Once he chose a new life, he could never go back to himself. After three years of life auditing, Henry was beginning to think he might have a slight problem with making commitments.
After a quick breakfast, Antonio/Henry drove his oldest child to school, and then went to work. He never had a problem navigating within his new lives, because he was just an appendage to an existing life, an additional soul hitching a ride in a self-sustaining creature. He had access to all of the stored memories, instincts, and responses of the host organism, who remained passive during the 30 day visit.
Everyone seemed happy to see Antonio as he walked from his parking space to his company. Why was he so popular? Maybe he was a closet philanthropist who himself lived modestly to hide his wealth. Perhaps he was natural healer or a miracle worker.
When he showed up at his company, Antonio/Henry was almost mobbed by his appreciative employees. This brought back very recent memories of being a rock star. Henry was Bruce Springsteen for 10 days on two different occasions. The "Boss" was the only personality he audited twice.
Antonio/Henry noticed that each employee in his company had either a physical or mental challenge or was a social outcast of one type or another. When he made it past the cheering crowds to his desk, he looked through the employee files. His work force included ex-convicts, recovering alcoholics, escaped cult members and even a former lawyer. Antonio hired people whom no one else would even interview. These employees were filled with gratitude towards Antonio and worked hard to show their appreciation.
Antonio/Henry thumbed through some spreadsheets and saw why Antonio wasn’t a rich man. The company, which was a modest textile outfit, barely broke even each year. Any profits that were made were reinvested in the company or in treatment programs for the employees.
Henry made up his mind. He wanted to remain in Antonio’s body permanently. Antonio was more than Henry could ever become on his own. Henry recited the official incantation that Professor Sine taught him.
“I am now one with Antonio. Antonio and I will now share the same body and life. He will now have two life forces, and I will not interfere with his life. I will only enrich it. Antonio will always have the power of veto over any of my decisions. “
Just then Professor Sine appeared.
“Congratulations, Henry, on finally making a decision. I’m proud of you,” the professor said.
“Thanks Professor.” Antonio/Henry answered.
“However, I can’t let you become Antonio.”
“Why not? Those were the rules.”
“I lied”
“That’s comforting. What else did you lie about?”
“That’s it. Just one untruth. And it’s for your own good.” Sine said.
“Yeah, go ahead, tell me how you are saving me from myself,” Henry said, expecting the professor to echo Mr. Tanner's non-stop lectures.
“Now that you finally saw a life that you respect, a life where you can give to others and be happy as a result of it, it’s now your job to return to Henry and use Antonio as a role model.”
“But, how?”
“You’ve learned from over 400 experts. You have more stored knowledge about life and business strategies than most people can acquire in a lifetime. You can go back to Henry, and do an even better job than Antonio can.”
“But, Professor, I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“You are ready.” With that statement, the professor left Antonio’s/Henry’s office just as quickly as he arrived. Antonio/Henry ran after him, but he couldn’t find him anywhere.
Antonio/Henry returned to his office, put his head on his desk and fell asleep. When he woke up, Henry was back at USC in the parapsychology lab.
Henry got out of bed, disoriented with his reunion with his original body. His head was spinning with memories of hundreds of short but intense relationships he had started and stopped with virtual families, employees, and bosses. He felt a sense of loss and longing.
He quickly left this reverie. There was no time to get sentimental or nostalgic about the past three years of life auditing. He had work to do.
Henry was excited about his new career path. He would start a company just like Antonio’s, but he would go global within a few years. For the first time in his life, Henry felt happy and he was imbued with a sense of purpose and mission. However, the happiness he felt was emanating from the prism of his own soul, and not from Antonio’s or any of the other hundreds of souls he audited.
He would take the first steps to start his company today, right after he had his teeth cleaned.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Do not read this column unless you have ADD/ADHD
You are not allowed to read this column unless you have ADD/ADHD. This column will read like a scattered, senseless, rambling piece of unrelated words unless you are one of us. It will confuse you so don’t bother reading it. If you have ADD/ADHD, this article will make perfect sense to you.
NOTE: If you read this without a letter from your doctor confirming your ADD/ADHD diagnosis or a notarized copy of your Ritalin prescription, we will hunt you down and force you to listen to hours of our mindless, multiple-streams of consciousness. We are not joking. We have ways of monitoring your online habits and enforcing this restriction.
I want to talk about communication in general, and words in particular. Words are one of the least effective means of communication we have, but we are stuck with them, aren’t we? Before I speak to myself or to others, (yes, I speak to myself and I’m proud of it), I ask myself the following question: Do my clothes match? Actually, my wife asks me that question before she lets me out of the house in the morning. In partial seriousness, I challenge myself to find the deeper meaning of words.
Words are misleading at best, dangerous at worst. We’ve all heard the expression “A picture is worth a thousand words.” Richard Bandler, the eccentric co-creator of Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP) is fond of saying a “word is worth a thousand pictures.”
You don’t have to take Bandler seriously if you don’t want to. He doesn’t even take himself seriously. He’s been known to entertain guests who were expecting to go out for Sushi to a bait shop. While the typical San Francisco bait shop lacks the ambiance of most sushi bars, the prices are more reasonable and the menu is basically the same as Japanese fare.
In any event, words often create more confusion than clarity because they trigger different pictures in each listener’s head. In linguistics, they call this surface and deep structure. This is a fancy version of Mad magazine’s, “What they say and what they really mean.”
We will divide up communication into a few categories: advertising, the work world, and interpersonal communication. We will then give a few examples of what we mean by deep and surface structure.
Advertising
What they say:
Buy our fun size candy bars.
What they really mean:
I don’t know about you, but fun size doesn’t mean the size of a postage stamp. Fun size is a chocolate treat the size of a dump truck. But if you buy enough of these miniscule poison pellets, you’ll end up spending more money than if you purchased the normal size bars.
What they say:
Try our new and improved home heating units.
What they really mean:
Our new units won’t asphyxiate you like our old ones did.
In the work world
What the boss says:
You are a lazy, incompetent bum. Please take your pink slip which is proudly displayed on the bulletin board in the employee cafeteria. Two security guards will accompany you out of the premises. Now.
What she really means:
You are an invaluable asset to our company. Don’t expect to take over my job so quickly, but I would like to give you a raise and a company car and promote you as my personal assistant.
What you say to yourself at work:
I love my job. I’m so thankful to have work and steady paycheck. I’m so lucky.
What you really mean:
The money is nice…but get me out of the sweatshop before I go insane.
Interpersonal communications
What your wife says:
You are such a typical guy. Look at that mess you are leaving for me to clean up. You are so insensitive.
What she really means:
You are the greatest man in the world. Our marriage is like a fine wine that improves with age. If I were any happier living with you, I’d have to be medicated.
What you say to your wife:
I’m not going to give you any solutions now. I’m just going to listen to what you are saying and let you know that I understand what you are going through.
What you really mean:
You have three more seconds to express your feelings and then I’m going to give you a solution whether you like it or not.
Take a few minutes to understand the deeper meaning of the words you hear and say. Enjoy your new interpretations of what words really mean. Don’t be fooled by surface structure and comments people might make about the way you dress. There is a deep message being communicated by wearing horizontal and vertical stripes that mere words cannot convey.
-- -- --
{italic}Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book {italic} Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future{/italic} will be published in the spring. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the {url http://pdshiftcoaching.com/} Paradigm Shift Communications{/url}website, or send an email to {email ben@pdshiftcoaching.com}ben@pdshiftcoaching.com{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb{/italic}
NOTE: If you read this without a letter from your doctor confirming your ADD/ADHD diagnosis or a notarized copy of your Ritalin prescription, we will hunt you down and force you to listen to hours of our mindless, multiple-streams of consciousness. We are not joking. We have ways of monitoring your online habits and enforcing this restriction.
I want to talk about communication in general, and words in particular. Words are one of the least effective means of communication we have, but we are stuck with them, aren’t we? Before I speak to myself or to others, (yes, I speak to myself and I’m proud of it), I ask myself the following question: Do my clothes match? Actually, my wife asks me that question before she lets me out of the house in the morning. In partial seriousness, I challenge myself to find the deeper meaning of words.
Words are misleading at best, dangerous at worst. We’ve all heard the expression “A picture is worth a thousand words.” Richard Bandler, the eccentric co-creator of Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP) is fond of saying a “word is worth a thousand pictures.”
You don’t have to take Bandler seriously if you don’t want to. He doesn’t even take himself seriously. He’s been known to entertain guests who were expecting to go out for Sushi to a bait shop. While the typical San Francisco bait shop lacks the ambiance of most sushi bars, the prices are more reasonable and the menu is basically the same as Japanese fare.
In any event, words often create more confusion than clarity because they trigger different pictures in each listener’s head. In linguistics, they call this surface and deep structure. This is a fancy version of Mad magazine’s, “What they say and what they really mean.”
We will divide up communication into a few categories: advertising, the work world, and interpersonal communication. We will then give a few examples of what we mean by deep and surface structure.
Advertising
What they say:
Buy our fun size candy bars.
What they really mean:
I don’t know about you, but fun size doesn’t mean the size of a postage stamp. Fun size is a chocolate treat the size of a dump truck. But if you buy enough of these miniscule poison pellets, you’ll end up spending more money than if you purchased the normal size bars.
What they say:
Try our new and improved home heating units.
What they really mean:
Our new units won’t asphyxiate you like our old ones did.
In the work world
What the boss says:
You are a lazy, incompetent bum. Please take your pink slip which is proudly displayed on the bulletin board in the employee cafeteria. Two security guards will accompany you out of the premises. Now.
What she really means:
You are an invaluable asset to our company. Don’t expect to take over my job so quickly, but I would like to give you a raise and a company car and promote you as my personal assistant.
What you say to yourself at work:
I love my job. I’m so thankful to have work and steady paycheck. I’m so lucky.
What you really mean:
The money is nice…but get me out of the sweatshop before I go insane.
Interpersonal communications
What your wife says:
You are such a typical guy. Look at that mess you are leaving for me to clean up. You are so insensitive.
What she really means:
You are the greatest man in the world. Our marriage is like a fine wine that improves with age. If I were any happier living with you, I’d have to be medicated.
What you say to your wife:
I’m not going to give you any solutions now. I’m just going to listen to what you are saying and let you know that I understand what you are going through.
What you really mean:
You have three more seconds to express your feelings and then I’m going to give you a solution whether you like it or not.
Take a few minutes to understand the deeper meaning of the words you hear and say. Enjoy your new interpretations of what words really mean. Don’t be fooled by surface structure and comments people might make about the way you dress. There is a deep message being communicated by wearing horizontal and vertical stripes that mere words cannot convey.
-- -- --
{italic}Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book {italic} Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future{/italic} will be published in the spring. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the {url http://pdshiftcoaching.com/} Paradigm Shift Communications{/url}website, or send an email to {email ben@pdshiftcoaching.com}ben@pdshiftcoaching.com{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb{/italic}
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Purim Post: Feel the fear and hide under the table
Guest Commentary: Velvel Goldfarb
f the coaching industry continues to grow at its present rate, pretty soon there will be more coaches than coachees. Once that happens, then maybe my workaholic twin brother, Ben, will be like me and out of a job.
Allow me to introduce myself. I'm the life coach's "evil" twin brother Velvel. The under-achiever, believe it or not, is going to be a coach too. For the record, I'm committed to becoming one of the smallest, if not the smallest, coaching companies on the planet.
Why do I say I'm going to be small? Because I don't see the point of thinking big. I plan to service 2 or 3 clients at the most. If I set my sights low, I won't be disappointed.
Speaking of happy, I'm content just the way I am. Bro', just be happy with who you are and get over it. Forget ambition and motivation. Stagnation can be fun. I've been doing it since grade school, and I've elevated it to an art form.
Ben likes to say he is the opposite of a judge. A judge sentences people to prison, and Ben claims his company helps you escape from jail. If you read Kierkegaard, Ben, you would know that life isn't "Either/Or". Life presents a plethora of choices. My metaphor for coaching is teaching clients how to decorate their prison cells while they are doing 10-20 years.
I'm having a great time hopping from one colorful Amsterdam coffee house to another. I've got no family, no mortgage, and no worries. I get a buzz right after I wake up and my morning continues just fine. Before you know it, the A.M. bleeds into the afternoon, and then happy hour rears its delightful head. At the end of the day, I believe I have as many happy moments as my goodie-goodie brother does "helping" his clients.
Indulge me for a few moments as I take his little Paradigm Shift rules of thumb and put a Velvel spin on them.
The quality of our life is the quality of our thoughts
Wrong. It's the quantity of our thoughts that count. You claim we have 70,000 thoughts a day. Don't change the content of your thoughts, like Ben suggests, but rather just think less. When I find myself thinking too much, I play the Buddha of the bar and stop conscious activity all together. I stare at the bowl of pretzels and enter nirvana. The number of my thoughts dwindles down to 2 or 3 before I pass out.
Think big and write down your goals
Nah. That's just setting yourself up for failure and disappointment. "Aim low", I always say. As I read somewhere, "no pain, no pain".
Install an internal GPS system and set the coordinates
Ben says this to his clients all the time, and I'm the one who is supposed to be on drugs.
I'm not anti-Ritalin, I'm pro-ADD
First of all, Ritalin is great fun, especially if you mix it with a few Rum and Cokes. By calling ADD a gift and succeeding despite it, you are losing a great opportunity to blame ADD for your problems, which brings me to my next point.
Stop playing victim and take responsibility
You may disagree, but I was victimized. I could've been a contender. They didn't have to kick me out of school. They didn't have to stop me from auditing courses at UT. It is their fault. It is my parent's fault. It is the weather's fault. It's your fault, Benny boy.
Feel the fear and do it anyway
I say, feel the fear and hide under the table. It's dangerous out there, especially if they run out of vodka.
It's never too late to have a happy childhood-Richard Bandler/Tom Robbins
How can you even quote this nonsense? The past might be over, but with some hard work, I can allow it to haunt me the rest of my life. You go ahead and get nostalgic about your future, Ben. I prefer to live in the real world.
So, brother dearest, look out for your competition. I'm going to be a minor player in the junior leagues, so you better watch out. I might even send you some referrals if you aren't careful
.
Velvel Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas. He was kicked out of Western Hills Elementary school for trying to set fire to the volleyball net. He claims to be a pharmaceutical distribution coach, although few of his clients seem to be alive or out of rehab. When he's not lambasting his twin brother, Ben Goldfarb, he spends half the year in various coffee houses in Amsterdam, and the other half of the year at Fred's Rainbow Bar in Juarez, Mexico. He's still deciding what to do during the third half of the year. Velvel's book, "Schnorring for Dummies" will be released three days before his twin brother's book is published. Velvel can be reached in person in either city. Don't show up empty handed. © Copyright 2008 by Velvel Goldfarb
f the coaching industry continues to grow at its present rate, pretty soon there will be more coaches than coachees. Once that happens, then maybe my workaholic twin brother, Ben, will be like me and out of a job.
Allow me to introduce myself. I'm the life coach's "evil" twin brother Velvel. The under-achiever, believe it or not, is going to be a coach too. For the record, I'm committed to becoming one of the smallest, if not the smallest, coaching companies on the planet.
Why do I say I'm going to be small? Because I don't see the point of thinking big. I plan to service 2 or 3 clients at the most. If I set my sights low, I won't be disappointed.
Speaking of happy, I'm content just the way I am. Bro', just be happy with who you are and get over it. Forget ambition and motivation. Stagnation can be fun. I've been doing it since grade school, and I've elevated it to an art form.
Ben likes to say he is the opposite of a judge. A judge sentences people to prison, and Ben claims his company helps you escape from jail. If you read Kierkegaard, Ben, you would know that life isn't "Either/Or". Life presents a plethora of choices. My metaphor for coaching is teaching clients how to decorate their prison cells while they are doing 10-20 years.
I'm having a great time hopping from one colorful Amsterdam coffee house to another. I've got no family, no mortgage, and no worries. I get a buzz right after I wake up and my morning continues just fine. Before you know it, the A.M. bleeds into the afternoon, and then happy hour rears its delightful head. At the end of the day, I believe I have as many happy moments as my goodie-goodie brother does "helping" his clients.
Indulge me for a few moments as I take his little Paradigm Shift rules of thumb and put a Velvel spin on them.
The quality of our life is the quality of our thoughts
Wrong. It's the quantity of our thoughts that count. You claim we have 70,000 thoughts a day. Don't change the content of your thoughts, like Ben suggests, but rather just think less. When I find myself thinking too much, I play the Buddha of the bar and stop conscious activity all together. I stare at the bowl of pretzels and enter nirvana. The number of my thoughts dwindles down to 2 or 3 before I pass out.
Think big and write down your goals
Nah. That's just setting yourself up for failure and disappointment. "Aim low", I always say. As I read somewhere, "no pain, no pain".
Install an internal GPS system and set the coordinates
Ben says this to his clients all the time, and I'm the one who is supposed to be on drugs.
I'm not anti-Ritalin, I'm pro-ADD
First of all, Ritalin is great fun, especially if you mix it with a few Rum and Cokes. By calling ADD a gift and succeeding despite it, you are losing a great opportunity to blame ADD for your problems, which brings me to my next point.
Stop playing victim and take responsibility
You may disagree, but I was victimized. I could've been a contender. They didn't have to kick me out of school. They didn't have to stop me from auditing courses at UT. It is their fault. It is my parent's fault. It is the weather's fault. It's your fault, Benny boy.
Feel the fear and do it anyway
I say, feel the fear and hide under the table. It's dangerous out there, especially if they run out of vodka.
It's never too late to have a happy childhood-Richard Bandler/Tom Robbins
How can you even quote this nonsense? The past might be over, but with some hard work, I can allow it to haunt me the rest of my life. You go ahead and get nostalgic about your future, Ben. I prefer to live in the real world.
So, brother dearest, look out for your competition. I'm going to be a minor player in the junior leagues, so you better watch out. I might even send you some referrals if you aren't careful
.
Velvel Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas. He was kicked out of Western Hills Elementary school for trying to set fire to the volleyball net. He claims to be a pharmaceutical distribution coach, although few of his clients seem to be alive or out of rehab. When he's not lambasting his twin brother, Ben Goldfarb, he spends half the year in various coffee houses in Amsterdam, and the other half of the year at Fred's Rainbow Bar in Juarez, Mexico. He's still deciding what to do during the third half of the year. Velvel's book, "Schnorring for Dummies" will be released three days before his twin brother's book is published. Velvel can be reached in person in either city. Don't show up empty handed. © Copyright 2008 by Velvel Goldfarb
Directing your own movie
Imagine you are recruited to co-direct and star in a major motion picture by one of the top directors in Hollywood. Despite your lack of experience, you are presented with an amazing contract. Your friends, colleagues, and your lawyer all advise you to sign on the dotted line. You follow their advice and take the job. Shooting starts in 10 days. A chauffeured limousine arrives at the studio to take you to the set. You get out of the car and find yourself at the door of your own home.
Whether we know it or not, we all are called upon to direct and star in the film of our own lives. If we have already assumed this role, there might be room for improvement and we can fine-tune what we are already doing. If we haven't started the job yet, it's never too late to begin.
Ask yourself what you want to see in your film. Is the film you are envisioning similar or different than your current life and to what extent? Your life may already be working well for you and you just might need to modify some elements of it.
A crucial element of your movie is selecting the genre. We lead complex lives and play many different roles so we probably will employ different genres depending upon the context.
Here are some guidelines:
Raising Children:
Communication with your children often falls under the genre of FOREIGN (without subtitles). You may want to take some steps to aim towards the FAMILY category.
Marriage
Married life is often filled with DRAMA and SUSPENSE. When appropriate, you may want to try some ROMANTIC COMEDY to lighten things up once in a while.
Profession
If you find yourself in a job that is reminiscent of HORROR, then you may want to aim towards the direction of ADVENTURE.
Goal Setting
If you find that your dreams, hopes and aspirations exist only in the realm of FANTASY, take some practical steps to move them into the world of DOCUMENTARY.
Once you have a clear idea of which genres you want to use, decide if you need a change of scenery, some new co-stars, or perhaps a major rewrite of the script. Take some time to find out what is called for and then create a plan of action with a time frame.
It is within your reach to direct a film that embodies your essence and resonates with your soul. Enjoy the journey. Celebrate each success along the way. Learn from minor setbacks and stay focused on the larger picture and keep the momentum going.
Accepting the job of director is an opportunity to live a full life and realize your potential. Write the script well, choose your co-actors wisely, and make your transitions between genres elegantly. Remember, you want to create a film that you would be happy to pay good money to see.
Whether we know it or not, we all are called upon to direct and star in the film of our own lives. If we have already assumed this role, there might be room for improvement and we can fine-tune what we are already doing. If we haven't started the job yet, it's never too late to begin.
Ask yourself what you want to see in your film. Is the film you are envisioning similar or different than your current life and to what extent? Your life may already be working well for you and you just might need to modify some elements of it.
A crucial element of your movie is selecting the genre. We lead complex lives and play many different roles so we probably will employ different genres depending upon the context.
Here are some guidelines:
Raising Children:
Communication with your children often falls under the genre of FOREIGN (without subtitles). You may want to take some steps to aim towards the FAMILY category.
Marriage
Married life is often filled with DRAMA and SUSPENSE. When appropriate, you may want to try some ROMANTIC COMEDY to lighten things up once in a while.
Profession
If you find yourself in a job that is reminiscent of HORROR, then you may want to aim towards the direction of ADVENTURE.
Goal Setting
If you find that your dreams, hopes and aspirations exist only in the realm of FANTASY, take some practical steps to move them into the world of DOCUMENTARY.
Once you have a clear idea of which genres you want to use, decide if you need a change of scenery, some new co-stars, or perhaps a major rewrite of the script. Take some time to find out what is called for and then create a plan of action with a time frame.
It is within your reach to direct a film that embodies your essence and resonates with your soul. Enjoy the journey. Celebrate each success along the way. Learn from minor setbacks and stay focused on the larger picture and keep the momentum going.
Accepting the job of director is an opportunity to live a full life and realize your potential. Write the script well, choose your co-actors wisely, and make your transitions between genres elegantly. Remember, you want to create a film that you would be happy to pay good money to see.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
The flip side of the reality-challenged coin
Many of us are familiar with reality-challenged individuals. Some of them are waiting for alien aircraft to take them for a ride. (see http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?cid=1192380730400&pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull). Other reality-challenged folks are camping out in Central Park waiting for the Beatles reunion concert. There is another category of people who look “normal” on the outside, but whose inner world is almost as challenging as the above individuals.
These “normal” reality-challenged people generally fit into one of four categories:
“Comfort Zone Dwellers”
“Comfort Zone Dwellers” are people who are happy to remain in their comfort zone, even though they aren’t enjoying it. Their comfort zone is a safe reality, but it is as effective as walking up the “down” escalator.
“Fuzzy Goal Setters”
“Fuzzy Goal Setters” have no defined dreams, hopes or aspirations, and if they do, their goals are as compelling and exciting as a three hour lecture on dental floss.
“Reality Mantra Mongers"
“Reality mantra mongers” might have powerful and compelling dreams and goals but feel they are unrealistic and therefore not attainable. They repeat the mantra "I'm just being realistic" over and over as a way of convincing themselves that there’s no point in trying. “Reality mantra mongers” usually take little action to transform their dreams into reality.
“False Prophets”
Although prophecy ended around two thousand years ago, false prophets love to peer into the future and predict worse case scenarios. Until prophesy returns, which will be any day now, it’s a good idea for the “false prophets” among us to visualize positive, or at least neutral, scenarios in their future.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m all in favor of reality. I believe in gravity and I subject myself to its laws. I think it’s a good idea to eat, sleep, and even breathe on occasion. However, when we use reality as an excuse, we are selling ourselves short.
If we want to create an exceptional life and make a significant contribution to society, we have to expand our understanding of what reality is and how we can transform it with some ingenuity, hard work, and effective spam filters.
We often create our own limitations and then live within these restricted parameters. When we are open to creating a better reality, then we will we push ourselves to the limit.
“Reality” as many of us define it is a copout. There are countless examples of people throughout history who decided to not accept reality as it was and then created a new vision of it.
For example, Jonas Salk created a new reality in immunology. It is counter-intuitive to inject live polio virus into a person to help her. However, our understanding of reality changed when we learned that this process stimulates the body to produce its own anti-bodies, thus protecting the body from polio in the future.
Keep in mind that there’s a fine line between powerful goals and self-delusion. While our goals should be challenging, they should be within the realm of possible, or the not yet possible. Run your idea by an expert for a reality check. However, make sure this expert is a visionary thinker, and grounded without being a dream-stealer.
For instance, we have broken the sound barrier, but breaking the speed of light seems like an impossible task. As we learned in our high school physics class, as we approach the speed of light, time slows down and matter turns into energy. This poses a serious challenge to traveling at the speed of light. Being transformed into complete energy can make it difficult to shower and get to work on time.
Will we address these challenges and someday travel at the speed of light? I don’t know. Ask an expert. Find out what challenges have to be overcome in order to make this goal a new reality and if we will need to wait several generations until this becomes possible.
Reality is to a certain extent subjective. When you take the bold step of not using “reality” as an excuse, you will begin to feel the satisfaction of living in constantly improving realities that you helped create. Since you have a degree of free will in shaping your reality, make sure you design a good one.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
These “normal” reality-challenged people generally fit into one of four categories:
“Comfort Zone Dwellers”
“Comfort Zone Dwellers” are people who are happy to remain in their comfort zone, even though they aren’t enjoying it. Their comfort zone is a safe reality, but it is as effective as walking up the “down” escalator.
“Fuzzy Goal Setters”
“Fuzzy Goal Setters” have no defined dreams, hopes or aspirations, and if they do, their goals are as compelling and exciting as a three hour lecture on dental floss.
“Reality Mantra Mongers"
“Reality mantra mongers” might have powerful and compelling dreams and goals but feel they are unrealistic and therefore not attainable. They repeat the mantra "I'm just being realistic" over and over as a way of convincing themselves that there’s no point in trying. “Reality mantra mongers” usually take little action to transform their dreams into reality.
“False Prophets”
Although prophecy ended around two thousand years ago, false prophets love to peer into the future and predict worse case scenarios. Until prophesy returns, which will be any day now, it’s a good idea for the “false prophets” among us to visualize positive, or at least neutral, scenarios in their future.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m all in favor of reality. I believe in gravity and I subject myself to its laws. I think it’s a good idea to eat, sleep, and even breathe on occasion. However, when we use reality as an excuse, we are selling ourselves short.
If we want to create an exceptional life and make a significant contribution to society, we have to expand our understanding of what reality is and how we can transform it with some ingenuity, hard work, and effective spam filters.
We often create our own limitations and then live within these restricted parameters. When we are open to creating a better reality, then we will we push ourselves to the limit.
“Reality” as many of us define it is a copout. There are countless examples of people throughout history who decided to not accept reality as it was and then created a new vision of it.
For example, Jonas Salk created a new reality in immunology. It is counter-intuitive to inject live polio virus into a person to help her. However, our understanding of reality changed when we learned that this process stimulates the body to produce its own anti-bodies, thus protecting the body from polio in the future.
Keep in mind that there’s a fine line between powerful goals and self-delusion. While our goals should be challenging, they should be within the realm of possible, or the not yet possible. Run your idea by an expert for a reality check. However, make sure this expert is a visionary thinker, and grounded without being a dream-stealer.
For instance, we have broken the sound barrier, but breaking the speed of light seems like an impossible task. As we learned in our high school physics class, as we approach the speed of light, time slows down and matter turns into energy. This poses a serious challenge to traveling at the speed of light. Being transformed into complete energy can make it difficult to shower and get to work on time.
Will we address these challenges and someday travel at the speed of light? I don’t know. Ask an expert. Find out what challenges have to be overcome in order to make this goal a new reality and if we will need to wait several generations until this becomes possible.
Reality is to a certain extent subjective. When you take the bold step of not using “reality” as an excuse, you will begin to feel the satisfaction of living in constantly improving realities that you helped create. Since you have a degree of free will in shaping your reality, make sure you design a good one.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Ode to a comedian dying young
I was once part of a group of rambunctious teenagers who were hanging out on the river walk in San Antonio in the late 70s. We were singing Hebrew songs, even though we had no idea what the words meant. However, we were with Marvin, and we knew what that meant. We were in for the time of our lives.
In the midst of our singing, we were confronted by group of Palestinian students nearby who began “communicating” with us. Without a working knowledge of Arabic, we made a safe assumption that they were neither praising us, our ancestors, nor our descendents.
Our response to their outbursts was to sing louder. We were under the false impression that elevating the volume would make us and our enemies understand the meaning of our nonsense syllables.
Before we knew what was happening, Marvin approached the group and claimed to be an exchange student from South America. He put on a thick Spanish accent and got the group laughing so hard that they forgot their anger. They exchanged phone numbers and pats on the back. Marvin was the great peacemaker and statesman.
Suddenly we saw a frozen chicken begin its trajectory from a second story window to some nearby bushes. On its heels (or frozen wings) was the man of the house, running to retrieve his dinner.
He was screaming epithets at his wife as he desperately looked in the foliage for the inanimate fowl. Despite the fact that we attended high school, our English skills were nonetheless halfway decent. We understood that he wasn’t praising his wife’s cooking skills, nor her understanding of aerodynamics and gravity.
This incident was funny in its own right, but only Marvin could upgrade it to the status of hilarious. After the man went back to his apartment to confront his poultry-tossing wife, Marvin did a brilliant impression of this guy. He mastered the accent, the body language, and included every nuance in his routine, capturing every detail of the event. His performance surpassed the original.
Marvin wasn’t the kind of guy who memorized jokes and delivered them with comic timing. He looked at real life situations and gave extemporaneous performances that brought his audience to tears and to the verge of losing control of certain bodily functions.
His humor wasn’t just a way to get a laugh. It was intelligent and deep. We learned a great deal about ourselves when the laughter died down. Marvin was educating us about life in a comic way that no school could duplicate.
Marvin was my best friend. Many people gave him the same title. However, when he was with me, he conveyed the feeling that our friendship was special and that I was in competition with no one.
Marvin packed more into his 17 years of life than many people do in a lifetime. He was truly alive in every sense of the word, which made his tragic death even more painful to all those who knew him.
As long as we are alive, our mission has not yet been completed. I believe Marvin’s soul was summoned on high, and this was proof that his mission on Earth was finished. My mission right now is to maintain the humorous tone of this column. If I fail to do that, I run the risk of Marvin kicking my tushie all over town in the next world.
Darkness descended upon my soul when I found out that he was killed in a car accident. I entered a state of morbidity and angst that lasted for years. I was like a zombie. It was difficult to choose which Slurpee flavor to order at the neighborhood 7/11. I often found myself staring blankly at the Pakistani employee who waited patiently, adjusting his turban, until I placed my order. A few months later, John Lennon was killed. I wasn’t having a good year.
Two things happened that brought the light back into my eyes. One thing was internalizing the faith that everything happens for a reason and it is for the ultimate good. None of us could have done anything to prevent Marvin’s death. Furthermore, our years on earth are numbered. We have to live each day to the fullest because we don’t know which day will be our last.
The second thing that brought the light back into my eyes was when we named our son. Marvin’s Hebrew name was Meir, which means illuminate. My son’s middle name is Ya’ir, which is the future tense of Meir, he will illuminate.
My son, who should be blessed with 120 joyful and meaningful years, has a brilliant sense of humor. When I see the twinkle in his eyes, I can picture Marvin’s mischievous smile and hear his contagious laughter.
We won’t get a lot of the answers to our “why” questions in this world. I feel Marvin found out the answer to “why” he was taken from us, and I believe that the answer he was given made perfect sense to him.
When we are all united in the next world, we will then understand why Marvin left us so early. We will also get the answers to the other “why” questions that come up during our lifetimes.
In the meantime, we all had to figure out the “how” question: how to function without Marvin in this world. This was not easy, but slowly, I found myself choosing which Slurpee flavor I wanted even before I got out of the car.
Life went on. There are some funny people out there, and even if they can’t make us laugh like Marvin could, at least we can take some comfort knowing that we were blessed with exposure to his humor and the invaluable education he gave us.
With the gift of eternity, we will all be together when the time comes. We will hang out at “Marvin’s Improv” in the sky, reminiscing about old times, and anticipating new experiences together. And Marvin, the first round of drinks is on your best friend.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
In the midst of our singing, we were confronted by group of Palestinian students nearby who began “communicating” with us. Without a working knowledge of Arabic, we made a safe assumption that they were neither praising us, our ancestors, nor our descendents.
Our response to their outbursts was to sing louder. We were under the false impression that elevating the volume would make us and our enemies understand the meaning of our nonsense syllables.
Before we knew what was happening, Marvin approached the group and claimed to be an exchange student from South America. He put on a thick Spanish accent and got the group laughing so hard that they forgot their anger. They exchanged phone numbers and pats on the back. Marvin was the great peacemaker and statesman.
Suddenly we saw a frozen chicken begin its trajectory from a second story window to some nearby bushes. On its heels (or frozen wings) was the man of the house, running to retrieve his dinner.
He was screaming epithets at his wife as he desperately looked in the foliage for the inanimate fowl. Despite the fact that we attended high school, our English skills were nonetheless halfway decent. We understood that he wasn’t praising his wife’s cooking skills, nor her understanding of aerodynamics and gravity.
This incident was funny in its own right, but only Marvin could upgrade it to the status of hilarious. After the man went back to his apartment to confront his poultry-tossing wife, Marvin did a brilliant impression of this guy. He mastered the accent, the body language, and included every nuance in his routine, capturing every detail of the event. His performance surpassed the original.
Marvin wasn’t the kind of guy who memorized jokes and delivered them with comic timing. He looked at real life situations and gave extemporaneous performances that brought his audience to tears and to the verge of losing control of certain bodily functions.
His humor wasn’t just a way to get a laugh. It was intelligent and deep. We learned a great deal about ourselves when the laughter died down. Marvin was educating us about life in a comic way that no school could duplicate.
Marvin was my best friend. Many people gave him the same title. However, when he was with me, he conveyed the feeling that our friendship was special and that I was in competition with no one.
Marvin packed more into his 17 years of life than many people do in a lifetime. He was truly alive in every sense of the word, which made his tragic death even more painful to all those who knew him.
As long as we are alive, our mission has not yet been completed. I believe Marvin’s soul was summoned on high, and this was proof that his mission on Earth was finished. My mission right now is to maintain the humorous tone of this column. If I fail to do that, I run the risk of Marvin kicking my tushie all over town in the next world.
Darkness descended upon my soul when I found out that he was killed in a car accident. I entered a state of morbidity and angst that lasted for years. I was like a zombie. It was difficult to choose which Slurpee flavor to order at the neighborhood 7/11. I often found myself staring blankly at the Pakistani employee who waited patiently, adjusting his turban, until I placed my order. A few months later, John Lennon was killed. I wasn’t having a good year.
Two things happened that brought the light back into my eyes. One thing was internalizing the faith that everything happens for a reason and it is for the ultimate good. None of us could have done anything to prevent Marvin’s death. Furthermore, our years on earth are numbered. We have to live each day to the fullest because we don’t know which day will be our last.
The second thing that brought the light back into my eyes was when we named our son. Marvin’s Hebrew name was Meir, which means illuminate. My son’s middle name is Ya’ir, which is the future tense of Meir, he will illuminate.
My son, who should be blessed with 120 joyful and meaningful years, has a brilliant sense of humor. When I see the twinkle in his eyes, I can picture Marvin’s mischievous smile and hear his contagious laughter.
We won’t get a lot of the answers to our “why” questions in this world. I feel Marvin found out the answer to “why” he was taken from us, and I believe that the answer he was given made perfect sense to him.
When we are all united in the next world, we will then understand why Marvin left us so early. We will also get the answers to the other “why” questions that come up during our lifetimes.
In the meantime, we all had to figure out the “how” question: how to function without Marvin in this world. This was not easy, but slowly, I found myself choosing which Slurpee flavor I wanted even before I got out of the car.
Life went on. There are some funny people out there, and even if they can’t make us laugh like Marvin could, at least we can take some comfort knowing that we were blessed with exposure to his humor and the invaluable education he gave us.
With the gift of eternity, we will all be together when the time comes. We will hang out at “Marvin’s Improv” in the sky, reminiscing about old times, and anticipating new experiences together. And Marvin, the first round of drinks is on your best friend.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Tying the knot with time
Most of us spend a significant portion of our time seeking out relationships or improving our current ones. However, few of us think about our relationship with time itself. Fortunately, there’s a new dating website that can help us chose our best match with time. Here’s a random sample of the exciting time profiles that are available and just waiting for you to give them a call.
The Past: Version 1:
My past was amazing. I’m convinced that my present and future will never live up to the good old days. I spend most of my time in the past, basking in the nostalgic warmth and serenity that my memories bring me.
The Past: Version 2:
I spend most of my time in the past because I went through a living hell. I enjoy replaying horrible scenes from my childhood in an infinite loop of dismay and despair. I have no need to go to horror movies because I have my own film noir festival in my brain. I think little about the present and the future because it’s just going to be filled with more bad movies.
The Past: Version 3:
The past happened. My mission is to interpret the past in the way that serves me best in the present and in the future.
The Present: Version 1
I spend all of my time living in the present. I am enveloped by the here and now. My very being is bathed in the microsecond. I think neither about the past nor the future. Why should I? If I can’t enjoy my present, what’s the point of expecting anything in the future? As for the past, it doesn’t concern me because it isn’t happening right now.
The Present: Version 2
I work hard for my future goals, and when I attain them, I revel in my success in the present. I enjoy pockets of infinity enjoying my present, whether it’s playing with a giggling infant, or watching a beautiful sunset. When I finish my moments of youthful abandon, I think about the lessons I learned from my diverse past and apply them to my bright future.
The Future: Version 1
I dread the future. Things are only going to get worse. Look at my track record. My past is terrible and who can bother with the present when I’m too worried about how bad things are going to get tomorrow and the next day?
The Future: Version 2
Nothing exists but the future. I know my life is going to get better soon. It’s just got to improve. And when I attain success, I won’t have time to enjoy it because I have to focus on my next goal. And who cares about the past? It’s over.
This is only a random sample of diverse time profiles that you can choose for your very own. There are countless other permutations of time out there. You just have to look for them, or create them yourself. Think it over carefully, and then take your time.
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. You can order his CD or download a copy at www.lulu.com/content/314023 or www.lulu.com/content/360288. His blog is located at http://bengoldfarb.blogspot.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
The Past: Version 1:
My past was amazing. I’m convinced that my present and future will never live up to the good old days. I spend most of my time in the past, basking in the nostalgic warmth and serenity that my memories bring me.
The Past: Version 2:
I spend most of my time in the past because I went through a living hell. I enjoy replaying horrible scenes from my childhood in an infinite loop of dismay and despair. I have no need to go to horror movies because I have my own film noir festival in my brain. I think little about the present and the future because it’s just going to be filled with more bad movies.
The Past: Version 3:
The past happened. My mission is to interpret the past in the way that serves me best in the present and in the future.
The Present: Version 1
I spend all of my time living in the present. I am enveloped by the here and now. My very being is bathed in the microsecond. I think neither about the past nor the future. Why should I? If I can’t enjoy my present, what’s the point of expecting anything in the future? As for the past, it doesn’t concern me because it isn’t happening right now.
The Present: Version 2
I work hard for my future goals, and when I attain them, I revel in my success in the present. I enjoy pockets of infinity enjoying my present, whether it’s playing with a giggling infant, or watching a beautiful sunset. When I finish my moments of youthful abandon, I think about the lessons I learned from my diverse past and apply them to my bright future.
The Future: Version 1
I dread the future. Things are only going to get worse. Look at my track record. My past is terrible and who can bother with the present when I’m too worried about how bad things are going to get tomorrow and the next day?
The Future: Version 2
Nothing exists but the future. I know my life is going to get better soon. It’s just got to improve. And when I attain success, I won’t have time to enjoy it because I have to focus on my next goal. And who cares about the past? It’s over.
This is only a random sample of diverse time profiles that you can choose for your very own. There are countless other permutations of time out there. You just have to look for them, or create them yourself. Think it over carefully, and then take your time.
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. You can order his CD or download a copy at www.lulu.com/content/314023 or www.lulu.com/content/360288. His blog is located at http://bengoldfarb.blogspot.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
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