This blog was inspired by the book "Garden of Gratitude" by Rabbi Shalom Arush. This is a retooling of a blog published in the Jerusalem Post entitled "Cause and Effect is a Myth."
We think we have power in situations in which we have none. Alternative, we sometimes think we are powerless in cases in which we have almost unlimited power. Please allow me to explain.
Human cause and effect is a myth, at least in the physical world. Our physical effort doesn’t create an outcome, at least in the long run. In fact, our efforts have nothing to do with results, neither good nor bad ones. However, our spiritual efforts make a huge impact. I will get to that later.
Most of us fall into one of the following categories in terms of our physical effort:
A. People who seem to do all the right things (get an MBA, work for a successful company, floss three times a day) and end up being financially successful.
B. People who do all the right things, yet are struggling financially and make the authors of finance books wealthy while they themselves remain monetarily challenged.
C. People who on the surface do all the wrong things (drop out of school, don’t look for work, and spend too much time on You Tube) and end up being very wealthy.
D. People who do all the wrong things and are struggling with money issues.
This doesn’t seem fair nor does it make sense. It is bizarre. If you want to sound like an intellectual, you could say it’s counterintuitive. The point is, neither success nor failure is in our hands. We are only asked to do the best job possible as a condition to create an outcome, but we have no control whatsoever as to the outcome of our effort.
This doesn’t mean you shouldn’t bother trying. I highly recommend conducting due diligence before taking on a job, project or task, being conservative with your money and actions, and getting the best advice possible. However, do not wed yourself to the results. You have absolutely nothing to do with them. You are not the cause of outcome.
Nothing is humanly possible. The good news is, everything is Divinely Possible. I believe that G-d sends us here for a mission to bring part of His Infinite Bounty and Genius to this world. We are His vehicles to find a cure for cancer, to end hunger, and maybe someday rid the world of short battery life on cell phones. We are only asked to do our part, as a condition, by working in good faith.
Every penny that you will make or lose during each year has been pre-determined. You cannot, nor can anyone else, add or subtract to that sum. While you have to make a reasonable, honest effort, trying your best not be a workaholic nor a morally challenged employee, you do not influence the results of your labor.
The only thing we do have control over in the physical domain is our outlook. In religious circles, this translates into having Fear of Heaven. In other domains, this means creating a good headspace. Although a positive attitude will not create success and is merely the style in which one applies human effort, it certainly makes the predetermined journey more pleasant.
However, our spiritual effort has a tremendous impact upon our life in this world, the next world, and in infinite physical and spiritual domains. I will divide spiritual effort into four categories: Prayer, Charity and acts of loving-kindness, Torah study, and repentance.
Prayer:
When we realize that our physical effort will only be blessed if G-d chooses to do so, then it is incumbent upon us to pray, and to pray correctly. By that I mean praying with intention, not talking during prayer, and staying until the end of the prayer service. It is interesting to watch people leave the synagogue early to rush to the office to send out emails thinking that the latter and not the former actions make a tangible difference. What does have a chance of affecting outcome in a positive way is praying properly, and that is made a low priority in many cases.
Charity and acts of loving-kindness:
The secret of getting wealthy is donating at least 10% (but not more than 20%) of our income. I know that sounds counterintuitive, but this is a spiritual blog so if you don’t think it makes sense you can either try it and examine the results, or you can stop reading. When we do kind acts for others, not just because others are looking or because it will look good on our resume, then we will see that we can and will have a positive and successful impact in the world and that our physical effort will start leading to positive results.
Learning Torah:
The world continues to exist because Torah is being learned. The reason for our existence is to study Torah. Whether it is learning five minutes a day, half a day, or all day, the main thing is to set fixed times each day to study G-d’s wisdom and to make that time sacrosanct. In that way, we justify our existence and make our lives better in that our physical efforts have a stronger chance of being blessed because we are listening to what G-d has to tell us via His Torah. When we pray, we talk to G-d. When we study His Torah, G-d talks to us.
Repentance:
Sincere repentance is the closest we can get to time travel. When we repent sincerely, and repent out of love, then our willful sins are transformed into merits. It is as if we have been able to go back into the past and change what we have done with a firm commitment never to make these same mistakes in the future. When we repent sincerely, it is as if we are new people and new people’s physical efforts are often blessed by G-d to produce fruit.
Our physical effort, although mandatory as a condition, is like spouting forth thousands of zeros into the air. They are nothing. But when we make the proper spiritual effort of praying, giving charity and doing acts of loving-kindness, learning Torah, and repenting sincerely, then G-d places the digit one (1) in front of these zeros transforming all of our effort into positive. Tangle outcome. When we put THE ONE in front of our zeros, then we will see the results, G-d willing.
May we all learn to put for the best possible physical and spiritual effort and partner with G-d to make a difference and a real change in this world that we are desperately trying to improve. And go ahead and floss if you want to. It couldn’t hurt, unless you do it wrong.
Monday, February 20, 2012
Sunday, February 05, 2012
One-Armed Drumming and True Love
This blog is based on a true story that never happened. This blog was inspired by the book Garden of Gratitude by Rabbi Shalom Arush.
To say Jason was bitter was an understatement. Just when his band was about to sign their first contract, his right arm became paralyzed. As a drummer, his career was over. He went through a series of operations but nothing could get his limp appendage to function again.
He taught himself how to get by with one arm, but he was allowing himself to sink into a deep depression. His former sense of humor was gone. He was a despondent soul and his marriage to Claudia was deteriorating.
One morning, exactly one year after the paralysis, Jason ran down the stairs like a crazy man, screaming at the top of his lungs. Claudia thought that he had gone insane and was ready to call an ambulance.
Claudia saw him smile for the first time in a year. Jason gave her a one-armed hug and asked her to sit down with him on the couch.
“I had the most amazing dream last night,” Jason said.
“Tell me about it,” Claudia said. Claudia was thrilled that her husband finally had some enthusiasm about something besides his stories about being on the road with his ex-band.
“I had a dream that I had an appointment with the Heavenly Court. I was suing them because my music career ended suddenly for no good reason. I demanded some kind of compensation for this miscarriage of justice,” Jason said. “They claimed that there was no mistake made by the court.”
“I disagree,” Claudia said. “You are one of the nicest and most talented guys in rock. You received a totally cruel punishment and you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“They told me that I asked for the paralysis,” Jason said.
“What are you talking about?” Claudia asked.
“I was told they are above time in Heaven. All of human history has already happened from their perspective. And in an alternative future, you were in a fatal car accident. After the doctor broke the news to me,” Jason said, “I immediately began praying to G-d to take me instead and bring you back to life.”
Claudia was silent and turning pale.
“G-d would not agree to take my life, but He asked if I would be willing to give up my career in order to reverse time and circumvent the accident. Without any hesitation, I said yes,” Jason said.
“I know this whole mess is hard for you, Jason. It’s hard for me too. But we can’t resort to fantasies to escape reality,” Claudia said.
“This is the reality. When I agreed to the deal, we were both sent back in time. You were spared the car accident and my arm became paralyzed,” Jason said.
Claudia closed her eyes and was lost in thought.
“Maybe there is something to this. The night that your arm became paralyzed, I somehow got myself locked in my sister’s bathroom. After 30 minutes, the door just opened as if it was never locked. I was supposed drive uptown for an appointment that night, but I cancelled due to the late hour and the heavy rain,” Claudia said.
“I woke up this morning as a new person, Claudia. My new attitude is that I don’t just accept my paralysis now, I now thank G-d for answering my prayer. How could I be mad at G-d, or have the audacity to sue the Heavenly Court, when in fact G-d was so kind as to answer my very own prayer?
“You are alive Claudia. I was willing to give my life for you, and G-d took away the use of my right arm. I got off easy. If I were to be reincarnated a thousand times, I would gladly spend each one of them without the use of my arm so we can be together during this lifetime,” Jason said.
“So instead of being despondent about my fate, I am thankful. My new mantra is ‘thank you’. I am so filled with gratitude for the use of just one arm. I’m thrilled with it. I love it, because you, Claudia are with me. Thank you, G-d. Thank You for answering my prayer! I will say it hundreds of times each day. I will never be able to say it enough, but I will do my best to do so until I draw my very last breath and my last words will be ‘thank you’.
The two hugged and then Jason started crying.
“Why are you crying,” Claudia asked. “I thought your new attitude was gratitude.”
“It is. I just discovered yet another reason to be thankful,” Jason said, as he hugged his wife with his right arm.
Ben Goldfarb can be reached at bzahavi7@gmail.com
To say Jason was bitter was an understatement. Just when his band was about to sign their first contract, his right arm became paralyzed. As a drummer, his career was over. He went through a series of operations but nothing could get his limp appendage to function again.
He taught himself how to get by with one arm, but he was allowing himself to sink into a deep depression. His former sense of humor was gone. He was a despondent soul and his marriage to Claudia was deteriorating.
One morning, exactly one year after the paralysis, Jason ran down the stairs like a crazy man, screaming at the top of his lungs. Claudia thought that he had gone insane and was ready to call an ambulance.
Claudia saw him smile for the first time in a year. Jason gave her a one-armed hug and asked her to sit down with him on the couch.
“I had the most amazing dream last night,” Jason said.
“Tell me about it,” Claudia said. Claudia was thrilled that her husband finally had some enthusiasm about something besides his stories about being on the road with his ex-band.
“I had a dream that I had an appointment with the Heavenly Court. I was suing them because my music career ended suddenly for no good reason. I demanded some kind of compensation for this miscarriage of justice,” Jason said. “They claimed that there was no mistake made by the court.”
“I disagree,” Claudia said. “You are one of the nicest and most talented guys in rock. You received a totally cruel punishment and you didn’t do anything wrong.”
“They told me that I asked for the paralysis,” Jason said.
“What are you talking about?” Claudia asked.
“I was told they are above time in Heaven. All of human history has already happened from their perspective. And in an alternative future, you were in a fatal car accident. After the doctor broke the news to me,” Jason said, “I immediately began praying to G-d to take me instead and bring you back to life.”
Claudia was silent and turning pale.
“G-d would not agree to take my life, but He asked if I would be willing to give up my career in order to reverse time and circumvent the accident. Without any hesitation, I said yes,” Jason said.
“I know this whole mess is hard for you, Jason. It’s hard for me too. But we can’t resort to fantasies to escape reality,” Claudia said.
“This is the reality. When I agreed to the deal, we were both sent back in time. You were spared the car accident and my arm became paralyzed,” Jason said.
Claudia closed her eyes and was lost in thought.
“Maybe there is something to this. The night that your arm became paralyzed, I somehow got myself locked in my sister’s bathroom. After 30 minutes, the door just opened as if it was never locked. I was supposed drive uptown for an appointment that night, but I cancelled due to the late hour and the heavy rain,” Claudia said.
“I woke up this morning as a new person, Claudia. My new attitude is that I don’t just accept my paralysis now, I now thank G-d for answering my prayer. How could I be mad at G-d, or have the audacity to sue the Heavenly Court, when in fact G-d was so kind as to answer my very own prayer?
“You are alive Claudia. I was willing to give my life for you, and G-d took away the use of my right arm. I got off easy. If I were to be reincarnated a thousand times, I would gladly spend each one of them without the use of my arm so we can be together during this lifetime,” Jason said.
“So instead of being despondent about my fate, I am thankful. My new mantra is ‘thank you’. I am so filled with gratitude for the use of just one arm. I’m thrilled with it. I love it, because you, Claudia are with me. Thank you, G-d. Thank You for answering my prayer! I will say it hundreds of times each day. I will never be able to say it enough, but I will do my best to do so until I draw my very last breath and my last words will be ‘thank you’.
The two hugged and then Jason started crying.
“Why are you crying,” Claudia asked. “I thought your new attitude was gratitude.”
“It is. I just discovered yet another reason to be thankful,” Jason said, as he hugged his wife with his right arm.
Ben Goldfarb can be reached at bzahavi7@gmail.com
Monday, January 09, 2012
From Lone Star State to Lone Star State: A Native Texan blesses his Israeli born daughter
When I was in the seventh grade, I found myself in a potentially life-threatening situation. One morning, five Mexican-Americans cornered me in an empty classroom at my public junior high-school in El Paso, Texas. Apparently, my fellow students wanted to give me a crash-course in First Aid. By the looks on their faces, they didn’t want to educate me on how to help an injured person, but rather, they wanted me to become one.
I tried to explain to them that both Jews and Mexican Americans are persecuted minorities. I was only in this school, and in America, for that matter, because the Romans had destroyed our Holy Temple in Jerusalem close to two-thousand years ago. The Jewish people have been enduring a bitter exile, and both the Mexican-American and Jewish communities are suffering from prejudice and racism. They looked at me as if I were speaking broken Spanish. In retrospect, I can understand their perception because I was speaking broken Spanish. My message was not getting across to them and their hatred towards me was escalating.
At the last moment before they started to rearrange my face, G-d gave me a great idea. I started reciting Hebrew prayers out loud. Keep in mind that I had no idea what I was saying. I could have been reading a Hebrew advertisement for a new shopping mall, but this gang was so freaked out by the sounds of a foreign language that they dispersed almost as quickly as they had stalked me.
When I compare and contrast my 7th grade experiences, with those of my daughter, Ariella, who was born and bred in Israel, I am completely blown away. I was raised in an environment of rock concerts and rodeos, and she is immersed in a school with Rabbi Kook philosophy and field trips to the Western Wall.
Please keep in mind that I have no regrets about where I come from and how I was raised. I am grateful for everything. It contributed to the person who I am today, and gave me the tools to become the person I am destined to be in the future. I believe that everything that happens to us happens for a good reason, and G-d is running the show for our ultimate and eternal good. I just feel fortunate that I was able to have raised my children in a city that has the highest spiritual standard of living in the world, that is, Jerusalem, the holy city.
The Rabbis tell us that there are 36 righteous people in every generation. My wife and I have the privilege of raising four of the 36 in our own home. Each of my children has heard me call them Tzadik or Tzadeket thousands of times and the reasons why I feel they live up to that title. But for now, I want to focus on Ariella.
I remember while growing up there were various cliques with whom I had daily contact, namely, the brains, the jocks, the nerds, the cowboys, the freaks, and the socialites. G-d blessed me with the ability to seamlessly interact with all of them while not becoming any of them. I believe Ariella has that gift as well.
Ariella possesses and nurtures multiple intelligences. She is book smart without being a nerd. She is socially intelligent and practices more diplomacy and tact than many adults whom I know. Kind and good hearted, yes she has the savvy not to let people push her around, take advantage of her, or use her as a doormat. She is a gem, and a treasure who can fight back if the situation calls for it.
Ariella knows how to balance many of the inherent tensions and conflicts that occur in everyday life. For instance, she has a very sophisticated sense of humor, and nonetheless, she still laughs at her father’s jokes in order to observe the commandment of honoring her parents.
She has the voice of an angel, the heart of a saint, and the brain of a scholar. Do I sound like I’m proud of her? I am. I am grateful as well.
Here are some thoughts that I want to share with my daughter today.
1. Say thank you for everything. Constantly thank G-d for both the revealed and the hidden good that He bestows upon us constantly.
2. Learn and practice faith and trust in G-d and in yourself. We can learn about faith and trust from English Grammar, namely, past perfect, present perfect, and future perfect. It’s all good. If the situation was supposed to be any different, it would be. G-d is all good. He gives us what is best for us, and when we no longer need to learn the lessons embedded in the hidden good, then we are bestowed with more revealed good.
3. Do your best to make this world a better place by loving more and contributing with both your physical and spiritual effort. You can and will make a difference in this world and partner with HaShem to do just that.
In the spirit of gratitude, thank you for choosing me as your father. Thanks for being the person who you are. I will always love you. If I criticize your behavior from time to time, it is only because I think that you can do even better than you are already doing, which is, to use the vernacular, awesome. You, as a person, are eternally good and my love for you is unconditional.
In the crazy world we live in, in a place where there is no shortage of “not-yet positive” behaviors from individuals and countries, the simple love of father to daughter, daughter to father, our love for G-d, and HaShem’s love for us, makes it all worthwhile. With this love, all of reality makes perfect sense; past, present, future, through eternity and beyond. I love you Ariella Sara. Keep up the good work and play. Mazal Tov.
bzahavi7@gmail.com
I tried to explain to them that both Jews and Mexican Americans are persecuted minorities. I was only in this school, and in America, for that matter, because the Romans had destroyed our Holy Temple in Jerusalem close to two-thousand years ago. The Jewish people have been enduring a bitter exile, and both the Mexican-American and Jewish communities are suffering from prejudice and racism. They looked at me as if I were speaking broken Spanish. In retrospect, I can understand their perception because I was speaking broken Spanish. My message was not getting across to them and their hatred towards me was escalating.
At the last moment before they started to rearrange my face, G-d gave me a great idea. I started reciting Hebrew prayers out loud. Keep in mind that I had no idea what I was saying. I could have been reading a Hebrew advertisement for a new shopping mall, but this gang was so freaked out by the sounds of a foreign language that they dispersed almost as quickly as they had stalked me.
When I compare and contrast my 7th grade experiences, with those of my daughter, Ariella, who was born and bred in Israel, I am completely blown away. I was raised in an environment of rock concerts and rodeos, and she is immersed in a school with Rabbi Kook philosophy and field trips to the Western Wall.
Please keep in mind that I have no regrets about where I come from and how I was raised. I am grateful for everything. It contributed to the person who I am today, and gave me the tools to become the person I am destined to be in the future. I believe that everything that happens to us happens for a good reason, and G-d is running the show for our ultimate and eternal good. I just feel fortunate that I was able to have raised my children in a city that has the highest spiritual standard of living in the world, that is, Jerusalem, the holy city.
The Rabbis tell us that there are 36 righteous people in every generation. My wife and I have the privilege of raising four of the 36 in our own home. Each of my children has heard me call them Tzadik or Tzadeket thousands of times and the reasons why I feel they live up to that title. But for now, I want to focus on Ariella.
I remember while growing up there were various cliques with whom I had daily contact, namely, the brains, the jocks, the nerds, the cowboys, the freaks, and the socialites. G-d blessed me with the ability to seamlessly interact with all of them while not becoming any of them. I believe Ariella has that gift as well.
Ariella possesses and nurtures multiple intelligences. She is book smart without being a nerd. She is socially intelligent and practices more diplomacy and tact than many adults whom I know. Kind and good hearted, yes she has the savvy not to let people push her around, take advantage of her, or use her as a doormat. She is a gem, and a treasure who can fight back if the situation calls for it.
Ariella knows how to balance many of the inherent tensions and conflicts that occur in everyday life. For instance, she has a very sophisticated sense of humor, and nonetheless, she still laughs at her father’s jokes in order to observe the commandment of honoring her parents.
She has the voice of an angel, the heart of a saint, and the brain of a scholar. Do I sound like I’m proud of her? I am. I am grateful as well.
Here are some thoughts that I want to share with my daughter today.
1. Say thank you for everything. Constantly thank G-d for both the revealed and the hidden good that He bestows upon us constantly.
2. Learn and practice faith and trust in G-d and in yourself. We can learn about faith and trust from English Grammar, namely, past perfect, present perfect, and future perfect. It’s all good. If the situation was supposed to be any different, it would be. G-d is all good. He gives us what is best for us, and when we no longer need to learn the lessons embedded in the hidden good, then we are bestowed with more revealed good.
3. Do your best to make this world a better place by loving more and contributing with both your physical and spiritual effort. You can and will make a difference in this world and partner with HaShem to do just that.
In the spirit of gratitude, thank you for choosing me as your father. Thanks for being the person who you are. I will always love you. If I criticize your behavior from time to time, it is only because I think that you can do even better than you are already doing, which is, to use the vernacular, awesome. You, as a person, are eternally good and my love for you is unconditional.
In the crazy world we live in, in a place where there is no shortage of “not-yet positive” behaviors from individuals and countries, the simple love of father to daughter, daughter to father, our love for G-d, and HaShem’s love for us, makes it all worthwhile. With this love, all of reality makes perfect sense; past, present, future, through eternity and beyond. I love you Ariella Sara. Keep up the good work and play. Mazal Tov.
bzahavi7@gmail.com
Saturday, April 17, 2010
Take Two: Nostalgic Futures: (A Sneak Preview: Part 1)
Every time you make a major life decision, a New You is born in a parallel universe. This alter ego lives his or her life based on the decision you didn’t make. Unless you’re a game show host, you probably make thousands of decisions every day. That means that you have countless alternate selves roaming around parallel universes. Luckily, these alter egos share your taste in food and clothing, which makes exchanging gifts hassle free.
Individuals from parallel universes sometimes end up surpassing their prototypes on Earth, succeeding beyond their wildest dreams. That’s because some earthlings are stuck in states of perpetual potential and tend to end every sentence as a question. But don’t be fooled into thinking that actualized people, either on Earth or in different universes, are perfect. Even if one of them attains 96–98 percent of his or her potential, an actualized soul might struggle with character flaws such as selfishness and splitting infinitives.
Membership in these alternate universes has its privileges and responsibilities. Occasionally, actualized souls are summoned to help their struggling counterparts on Earth. During these missions, they are allowed to alter rules of nature. Using magic is a lot of fun, but it has side effects like sudden weight gain in unexpected places, such as in bowling alleys.
You are about to meet Danny and Jennifer Taos, a challenged couple who had a rare chance to see what life would be like if they followed one of those parallel tracks instead of sticking to life-limiting decisions.
Some of what you’re about to read in these next few blogs may appear to be as disconnected from reality as a Spanish soap opera, so prepare to suspend your disbelief, and come along on a magic ride where Danny and Jennifer come into contact with mentors who offer them friendship, life-transforming guidance, and, of course, a chance to have their power tools engraved.
I hope you take this story to heart and allow it to help you make your life work better for you. You have all the resources you need to turn your life into all that it was meant to be and all that you want it to be. Enjoy the journey and the destination. Have fun with the new way you’ll look at your past and the compelling way you will envision your future.
Choose your locations, your scripts, and your costars well. Then make the film of your life, the best one possible for you.
CHAPTER ONE
Parallel Universe, Alternate Los Angeles
June 28, 1997, 12:53 p.m.
He was born at a very advanced age. Thirty-six, to be exact. One moment, he was a nonentity minding his own nonexistent business, and then he was transformed into a living, breathing, utilities-paying human being. In the blink of an eye, he suddenly found himself with form, substance, and many years’ worth of memories from someone else’s life.
Being unfamiliar with living, talking, or color coordination, he acted according to programmed instincts and stored responses. Why he existed was a great mystery. All he knew was that he had a burning desire to direct a movie, even though his current chronological age was about the length of a movie trailer.
He looked up and realized he wasn’t alone. A beautiful woman hugged and kissed him, and called him Danny. She expressed her unreserved support for his decision to tough it out financially and direct another movie. She told him she loved him.
Danny told her he loved her too, and held her body against his. Danny called her Jennifer. He must have selected the correct name since she didn’t pursue him with a blunt object or threaten to find a divorce lawyer.
Unbeknownst to Danny, Jennifer had also been born recently. Jennifer was operating on autopilot, and felt an overwhelming love for the guy whom she referred to as Danny. She also had a powerful desire to complete a CD.
“I’m going to call Eric,” Danny said. “We’ll make a new movie even if it has to be commercial.”
“I’m so proud of you, Danny,” Jennifer said, planting a kiss on her husband’s forehead. “You can tell that creep in San Diego you don’t want his job.”
“Why do you think Victor’s a creep?” Danny asked.
“He spoke so loudly on the phone, I could hear both ends of the conversation. It sounded like he had a cigar hanging out of his mouth while he was talking.”
“So much for my privacy. Now, how about you? Are you going to finish your CD?”
“Absolutely,” Jennifer said. “Danny … ”
“Yes,” Danny said.
“I don’t know where this is coming from, but I feel like there’s another couple exactly like us somewhere in the universe,” Jennifer said.
“Interesting idea,” Danny said. “If they are just like us, then they must be pretty happy.”
“That’s for sure,” Jennifer said.
They hugged and went to their respective phones to take the next steps in their lives.
(To be continued)
-- --
Ben Goldfarb is the author of Take Two: Nostalgic Futures (www.nostalgicfutures.com) and Take Two: Directing Your Life for a Change. The books are available at Dani Books in Israel (www.danibook.com) or on Amazon. He also runs a coaching practice (www.pdshiftcoaching.com). You can reach him at ben@pdshiftcoaching.com or at 972-(2)-641-6673.
© Copyright 2010 by Ben Goldfarb
Tuesday, January 13, 2009
“It's Your Imagination Running Wild” – Brian Wilson
It has been said that most Americans have a crisis at least once a decade. Danny Sanders was no exception to that rule. In fact, he was close to setting the country's new crisis curve.
Danny was a member of the Crisis-of-the-Month Club. He's been down and out about money, his career, and he was especially distraught when he was diagnosed with Color Uncoordinated Syndrome (CUS), which wreaked havoc on his wardrobe. Nonetheless, his latest breakdown put more strain on him than all the previous crises combined. Luckily, this episode had a happy ending.
It all started when his second child was born. On the way to their favorite hospital, Danny's wife couldn't hold out any longer. Amidst Jennifer's screams and curses from her painful contractions, Danny pulled into the closest medical facility he could find.
This particular hospital had a reputation for providing mediocre medical care at best, and being the source of irreversible nightmares at worst. Danny wouldn't feel comfortable leaving a houseplant in their care, but at this late hour, he had no choice.
Surprisingly enough, the emergency Cesarean section went smoothly and was performed by an exceptional staff. However, Danny noticed that his newborn daughter looked nothing like him or Jennifer, nor did she resemble either set of grandparents. They began to entertain the notion that the hospital accidentally switched their baby with another one in the nursery shortly after birth. As the baby grew, however, Danny and Jennifer managed to control their overactive imaginations and banished this silly notion.
After their daughter's 9th birthday, their worst fear began to materialize. A registered letter came from the hospital where their daughter was born. The letter was cryptic, but was urgent in tone and hinted at DNA tests and out-of-court settlements. The parents were invited to meet with the head of the hospital the following morning.
Danny and Jennifer didn't sleep all night. They kept conjuring up the worst possible scenarios of losing their daughter, whom they loved more than life itself. They were playing images in their head of getting custody of their biological daughter who would no doubt be the victim of a decade of parental abuse, given the nature of the hospital's clientèle. Danny was prepared to hire a team of lawyers to sue the hospital. Years of law suits and counter-suits would be their lot for the next several years as they would fight to keep both girls.
All his other crises combined couldn't hold a candle to the desperation and anguish he felt from the time he received the letter to the visit to the hospital the next morning. He couldn't dream up a solution to get them out of this heart-wrenching situation.
The next morning, the anxious parents sat down in the hospital administrator's office at 9 A.M. sharp. The hospital head was flanked by a social worker and a woman Danny recognized as the gynecologist who performed the surgery on his wife.
“Mr. and Mrs. Sanders, thank you so much for coming today. I'm sure you are upset so I'll cut right to the chase,” the man said.
“Upset is an understatement,” Danny said.
“Your baby was accidentally substituted with another baby at birth,” the administrator said, with a grave expression.
Danny looked at Jennifer and saw tears streaming down her face. Danny wanted to cry as well, but he needed to strong for her. However, Danny did allow his anger to surface.
“How could you be so careless? I wouldn't even expect this from a clinic in a third world country, and here we are in the United States in the 21st century witnessing criminal negligence! I'm going to make sure this hospital's doors are closed forever,” Danny started.
“I understand you are outraged. Who wouldn't be? But please, let me continue,” the administrator stated calmly.
Danny decided to stop raging and hear the guy out.
“We corrected the problem within 24 hours and returned the infants to their biological mothers. We ran a series of DNA tests just to double-check ourselves, and the situation was rectified.” he stated calmly.
Danny and Jennifer both breathed a huge sigh of relief. But what were these clowns up to? Why were they messing with their minds?
“Why did you have to send us a letter and worry us if nothing was wrong? Are you some kind of a masochist?” Jennifer asked.
“I apologize, but writing an ambiguous letter was the only way we could get you to show up today,” the social worked chimed in. “You see, the story didn't end when we corrected the switch.”
“What are you talking about?,” Danny asked.
“While the switch with the babies was corrected, another set of DNA test results were accidentally placed in your daughter's medical file. This paperwork was stolen by the other girl's parents. Apparently they were holding on to this information until the time was right to hold “your” daughter ransom. They were planning a de facto kidnapping.” the OB-GYN stated.
“When we caught wind of this a few weeks ago, we called them into the office to explain that in addition to stealing hospital documentation, which is a federal offense, they took the wrong documents. They were disappointed that they wouldn't be getting a windfall from you. As a result, they decided to give their child up for adoption, “ the administrator said.
“And where do we fit in?” Danny asked.
“We told them we wouldn't press charges in exchange for their written request that the two of you be their daughter's legal guardians. We wanted you to have the first chance to adopt the girl and avoid all the months of paperwork that accompany the standard adoption process,” the social worker said.
“So why didn't you just explain that to us over the phone instead of putting us through this living hell?” Jennifer asked.
“If we had done that, would you have bothered showing up today?” the social worker asked.
Danny stopped to think about it for a while, and realized that they wouldn't consider adoption under normal circumstances. The hospital staff felt they had to create an abnormal situation that would motivate them to consider adoption.
“This child wasn't abused, but she was neglected. She's bright and warm, and from what my intuition tells me, the two of you could provide her with a stable and loving home,” the social worker said. “You don't have to give us an answer right now. You can take some time to think about it.”
Danny looked into his wife's eyes, and he knew her answer, which concurred with his.
“Just tell us what we need to do, and we will adopt her ASAP,” Danny said.
Three days later, their new daughter was home. Her parents would not agree to meet with them, perhaps out of shame about their foiled ransom plan, or maybe out of apathy about their daughter's future.
The nature/nurture problem played itself out for a few months, but eventually their newest addition to the family adapted well to her “twin sister” and the rest of the clan.
Danny and Jennifer were thankful that their collective imagination was wrong in creating painful scenarios that fateful night before their meeting at the hospital. In addition to the challenge of adoption and the joy of loving another human being unconditionally, they learned an important lesson. If they are going to let their imaginations run wild, then they should at least direct their thoughts in a neutral or positive direction. That was a mindset worth adopting.
-- --
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, "Take Two: Directing Your Life for a Change" will be published in May. 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 2009 by Ben Goldfarb
Sunday, November 16, 2008
Negotiable Dates
Beth stared at her computer screen at work. She just turned 35, old enough to run for president of the United States. However, she was still not married and stuck in a dead-end job that didn't speak to her soul. What's worse is she submitted a demo CD of her original music to a producer a year ago and Beth still hasn't yet responded to the pleas to move forward. What would it take for her to get out of her rut?
Each quarter, like clockwork, Beth receives a hand written note, barely legible, from her producer, Renée, telling her that she loves Beth's demo. Renée asks again and again when they can meet. For some bizarre reason, Beth refuses to respond.
Sometimes our situation gets so bad that we force ourselves to take action. Beth's biological clock was ticking and her dating options seemed to be decreasing. Her job, producing children's music CDs, was so below her level of talent that she often cried at work. Her situation was hitting rock bottom.
Beth vowed that during her lunch hour she would go to Renée's office, introduce herself, apologize, and then talk about producing her CD. She looked at the return address on Renee's last note and left.
It was easy to find Renée's office. She found a parking space and went to the 10th floor. At the reception desk, she was told that there is no one named Renée at the studio.
"There must be some kind of mistake," Beth said. "Here's a notes she wrote me on your company stationery."
The receptionist looked at the card and started laughing.
"What's so funny?" Beth asked.
"His handwriting is so bad," the receptionist said.
"What do you mean "his" handwriting? Renée is a woman's name," Beth said.
"The producer's name is René, with one "e". That's a guy's name in French. René told me that if you ever show up I should bring you right into his office even if he is in the middle of a meeting," the receptionist explained.
Beth was in shock. Was this René character interested in her or her music?
The receptionist buzzed René with what appeared to be a code word. Beth was ushered into René's office as his 11:00 meeting came to an abrupt end. René winked at the receptionist and then motioned for Beth to take a seat on plush black leather chair in front of his desk.
Beth felt like she was in the midst of some kind of elaborate prank or joke. But René was one of the most handsome men she had ever laid eyes on, so she relaxed and decided to enjoy the conspiracy.
"Nice to meet you finally, Beth," René said.
Beth scanned the walls. They were covered with pictures of René and a number of famous recording artists. Despite his obvious wealth and fame, René seemed very down to earth and easygoing. He also wasn't wearing a wedding band.
"First of all, I want to apologize for not responding to your notes," Beth said.
"No problem. It's all about timing. Maybe the public wasn't ready for your music until now," René offered.
"Thanks for your understanding," Beth said.
"Let's cut to the chase. Your music is haunting, beautiful, original, and will be a commercial success. I want to record you," René said.
"Are you serious?" Beth asked.
"There are two things I don't joke about. Music is one of them," René said.
"What's the other thing?" Beth asked.
"We'll get to that later," René said.
"So what's the next step?" Beth asked
"I need you to record three more tracks, then we will produce the CD. If you have a day job, then we will open up the studio at night. We will work around your schedule," René said.
Beth's self-esteem was so low that she was convinced that René had ulterior motives and he was just pretending to like her music. Of course, she wouldn't mind dating him, but she still wanted an honest opinion about her music.
"I don't know what to say," Beth said.
"Take the contract. I wrote it up after I heard your demo a year ago. Have your lawyer look it over. We can negotiate as your attorney sees fit, and let's sign and move forward," René said.
"On a more personal note, I have something for you," René added.
"What is it?" Beth asked.
"My wedding invitation." he said as he handed her a white envelope.
Beth's mood plummeted. She felt herself sinking into a deep depression that even a 24/7 Prozac drip wouldn't cure.
"Congratulations," Beth said in a whisper.
"Please read it," René said.
Beth noticed that there was no name of the bride on the card, nor was the date listed on the invitation.
"This has a few pieces missing," Beth said.
"I realize that. I will negotiate the date with you, but not the name of the bride," René said with a smile.
"Excuse me?" Beth asked.
"You heard me. The other thing I don't joke about besides music is choice of soul mates. I fell in love with you when I heard your music a year ago," René said.
"This is so sudden," Beth said.
"As I mentioned, the date is negotiable," René said. "Can we talk about it over lunch?"
"You've got a date," Beth said as they left the office.
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, "Take Two: Directing Your Life for a Change" 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, October 01, 2008
Time Customs
Their wedding, which was only three days ago, was a faint memory of smiling relatives, kamikaze photographers, and spicy Mexican food. Linda and Jon were ready for their two week honeymoon in the Caribbean. They only had to clear customs and then good times would begin. Unfortunately, this wasn’t going to be an easy task considering the baggage they were carrying.
As the newlyweds were having their luggage X-rayed, the custom officer’s eyes widened as he looked into the screen. He called over his colleagues, who were amazed at what they saw.
“Is something wrong?” Jon asked.
“We will let you know in a moment, sir,” the customs officer said.
Linda and Jon were about as straight laced as they came. Linda hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol in 6 years. She had never abused drugs and made it a point to always treat them nicely.
Jon was an ardent Seventh Day Adventist and a little league coach. The chances of them smuggling anything worse than charity brochures was highly unlikely.
“Could the two of you come with us please?” the officer asked.
“Wow, some honeymoon,” Linda said.
The couple was escorted to a private office which had both the insignia of the customs department and the ministry of tourism.
“My name is Fredrick Smythe, and I am the Minister of Tourism on the Island,” a well-dressed man said.
“Thanks for the warm greeting,” Jon said.
“I’m really sorry to disturb your vacation, but our sophisticated equipment revealed something rather alarming,” the minister said.
“What are you talking about?” Jon asked.
“Unless we have to recalibrate our machinery, our information leads us to believe that you, Linda, have a tendency to focus way too much on the past,” the minister said.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, but I smell a law suit,” Jon threatened.
“Please hear me out,” the minister said.
“Jon, this is fascinating, please let him talk,” Linda pleaded.
“Furthermore,” the minister continued,” you, Jon, are obsessed with the future.”
“That may or may not be true, but that’s not the point. I want to know why you are harassing innocent tourists with your pseudo-scientific X-ray apparatus?” Jon asked.
“Our island is all about living in the present. Our vacation spot is about capturing and relishing the moment,” the minister explained.
“Yeah, so?” Jon asked.
“We have no advertising budget on our Island. We have thousands of tourists who come here every year based on word-of-mouth advertising from happy tourists. We have no natural resources to speak of, nor any industry, and our economy would collapse without our tourist trade.”
“What’s that got to do with us?” Linda asked.
“Given your present state, neither one of you is going to enjoy your trip. Linda, you will be too focused on what happened to you before you came here. And you, Jon, you will be too concerned about what’s going to happen to you when the honeymoon is over,” the minister explained.
“I’m really getting sick of this psycho-babble,” Jon said.
“Jon, give him a chance. He seems to have our best interest in mind,” Linda said.
“In any event, after you leave, both of you will end up bad-mouthing our island, when in fact, it will be your own fault if you don’t enjoy yourselves,” the minister explained. “We are cracking down on people who will give our island a poor reputation.”
“So what do you want from us?” Jon asked.
“Unless you are committed to changing, we will send you to a neighboring island, all expenses paid, upgrade your hotel accommodations and give you three-thousand dollars worth of entertainment coupons,” the minister said.
“Sweet,” Jon said.
“Don’t get me wrong. Given your present headspace, you’ll have a bad time there as well, but at least they have an advertising budget to offset the bad press,” he stated.
“And our other option?” Linda asked.
“You can make a temporary decision to live in the present and enjoy yourselves,” the minister offered.
“You don’t have to decide now. I’ll leave you alone for a few moments while you make up your mind. Please have some coffee and pastries while I’m gone,” the minister said, and then he walked out of the office.
“I say let them fly us somewhere else and upgrade our trip. We can blow three bills on food and gambling.” Jon said.
“Maybe this is a chance to improve ourselves,” Linda offered.
“This is supposed to be a honeymoon, not a self-help seminar. Let’s go for it and leave this flaky island.” Jon said.
“But Jon, I think there’s something to learn from all of this,” Linda said.
“Okay, whatever. Let’s give it our best shot and live in the …what did he call it again?” Jon asked.
“The present…,” Linda offered.
“Right… the present. We haven’t spent much time there. I wonder what it’s like?” Jon asked.
“I guess we can find out now.” Linda said.
The newlyweds told the minister their decision, and he drove them to their hotel himself.
They had a great time. In fact, they created an amazing foundation upon which they built their marriage. Of course they had to learn lessons from the past and plan for the future, but if you aren’t in the moment, they learned, then what’s the point?
After two weeks in present paradise, they arrived at the airport early so they could speak with the ministry of tourism. He was waiting for them in his office.
“So, did you enjoy your trip?” he asked
“Yes, it was awesome,” Linda said.
“I never thought I would say this, but thanks for your advice,” Jon said.
“You can feel free to go back to your old perceptions of time if you would like to,” the minister offered.
“You know what, I think we are going to leave our previous views of time in the past,” Jon said.
“As you wish,” the minister said. “Come see us again sometime.”
With that, Jon and Linda boarded the plane to continue a series of present moments that would make up their future.
-- -- --
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, "Take Two: Directing Your Life for a Change" 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
As the newlyweds were having their luggage X-rayed, the custom officer’s eyes widened as he looked into the screen. He called over his colleagues, who were amazed at what they saw.
“Is something wrong?” Jon asked.
“We will let you know in a moment, sir,” the customs officer said.
Linda and Jon were about as straight laced as they came. Linda hadn’t touched a drop of alcohol in 6 years. She had never abused drugs and made it a point to always treat them nicely.
Jon was an ardent Seventh Day Adventist and a little league coach. The chances of them smuggling anything worse than charity brochures was highly unlikely.
“Could the two of you come with us please?” the officer asked.
“Wow, some honeymoon,” Linda said.
The couple was escorted to a private office which had both the insignia of the customs department and the ministry of tourism.
“My name is Fredrick Smythe, and I am the Minister of Tourism on the Island,” a well-dressed man said.
“Thanks for the warm greeting,” Jon said.
“I’m really sorry to disturb your vacation, but our sophisticated equipment revealed something rather alarming,” the minister said.
“What are you talking about?” Jon asked.
“Unless we have to recalibrate our machinery, our information leads us to believe that you, Linda, have a tendency to focus way too much on the past,” the minister said.
“I don’t know what you are talking about, but I smell a law suit,” Jon threatened.
“Please hear me out,” the minister said.
“Jon, this is fascinating, please let him talk,” Linda pleaded.
“Furthermore,” the minister continued,” you, Jon, are obsessed with the future.”
“That may or may not be true, but that’s not the point. I want to know why you are harassing innocent tourists with your pseudo-scientific X-ray apparatus?” Jon asked.
“Our island is all about living in the present. Our vacation spot is about capturing and relishing the moment,” the minister explained.
“Yeah, so?” Jon asked.
“We have no advertising budget on our Island. We have thousands of tourists who come here every year based on word-of-mouth advertising from happy tourists. We have no natural resources to speak of, nor any industry, and our economy would collapse without our tourist trade.”
“What’s that got to do with us?” Linda asked.
“Given your present state, neither one of you is going to enjoy your trip. Linda, you will be too focused on what happened to you before you came here. And you, Jon, you will be too concerned about what’s going to happen to you when the honeymoon is over,” the minister explained.
“I’m really getting sick of this psycho-babble,” Jon said.
“Jon, give him a chance. He seems to have our best interest in mind,” Linda said.
“In any event, after you leave, both of you will end up bad-mouthing our island, when in fact, it will be your own fault if you don’t enjoy yourselves,” the minister explained. “We are cracking down on people who will give our island a poor reputation.”
“So what do you want from us?” Jon asked.
“Unless you are committed to changing, we will send you to a neighboring island, all expenses paid, upgrade your hotel accommodations and give you three-thousand dollars worth of entertainment coupons,” the minister said.
“Sweet,” Jon said.
“Don’t get me wrong. Given your present headspace, you’ll have a bad time there as well, but at least they have an advertising budget to offset the bad press,” he stated.
“And our other option?” Linda asked.
“You can make a temporary decision to live in the present and enjoy yourselves,” the minister offered.
“You don’t have to decide now. I’ll leave you alone for a few moments while you make up your mind. Please have some coffee and pastries while I’m gone,” the minister said, and then he walked out of the office.
“I say let them fly us somewhere else and upgrade our trip. We can blow three bills on food and gambling.” Jon said.
“Maybe this is a chance to improve ourselves,” Linda offered.
“This is supposed to be a honeymoon, not a self-help seminar. Let’s go for it and leave this flaky island.” Jon said.
“But Jon, I think there’s something to learn from all of this,” Linda said.
“Okay, whatever. Let’s give it our best shot and live in the …what did he call it again?” Jon asked.
“The present…,” Linda offered.
“Right… the present. We haven’t spent much time there. I wonder what it’s like?” Jon asked.
“I guess we can find out now.” Linda said.
The newlyweds told the minister their decision, and he drove them to their hotel himself.
They had a great time. In fact, they created an amazing foundation upon which they built their marriage. Of course they had to learn lessons from the past and plan for the future, but if you aren’t in the moment, they learned, then what’s the point?
After two weeks in present paradise, they arrived at the airport early so they could speak with the ministry of tourism. He was waiting for them in his office.
“So, did you enjoy your trip?” he asked
“Yes, it was awesome,” Linda said.
“I never thought I would say this, but thanks for your advice,” Jon said.
“You can feel free to go back to your old perceptions of time if you would like to,” the minister offered.
“You know what, I think we are going to leave our previous views of time in the past,” Jon said.
“As you wish,” the minister said. “Come see us again sometime.”
With that, Jon and Linda boarded the plane to continue a series of present moments that would make up their future.
-- -- --
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, "Take Two: Directing Your Life for a Change" 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, September 09, 2008
The Return of Aunt Gloria
Aunt Gloria (http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull&cid=1212659717723) enjoyed complaining about everything that was wrong with the world. She was filled with scathing attacks on the Universe’s inability to cater to her every want and need. Unless Aunt Gloria underwent some kind of drastic change, she would go to the grave with gripes against every human being and institution with whom she ever had contact. The time for change was today.
Aunt Gloria woke up groggy after a fitful sleep involving dreams of twin sisters, genetic cloning, and a clip from the Democratic Convention in which Barack Obama selected himself as his own running mate.
She pulled herself together and went to the gym. Even though she was in her early 70s, she worked out three days a week. Before, during and after her workout, she criticized the poor service she received at the club.
Gloria looked down and reached into her purse to get her membership badge. As she handed the tag to the attendant, she had a strange sensation that she was looking at herself. Gloria thought this was just a pre-coffee anomaly caused by the club’s mirrors and poor lighting, and didn’t think much of it.
As she started her rounds on the treadmill, Gloria noticed that all the trainers, male and female, were her exact duplicate. Gloria screamed and ran out of the club still wearing her workout clothes.
Everywhere she went, she was greeted by Aunt Gloria clones. This included the conductors on the subways, the anchormen on the news, and New York City’s finest who were handing out tickets and chasing after muggers. Aunt Glorias were making drug deals, selling used cars, and peddling hot dogs on street corners.
Each encounter with her clones shocked her less as the novelty wore off. Gloria realized that that she was being tested from Above. She went along with the experience, and received service from tens of Aunt Gloria’s throughout the day in cafes, restaurants, and retail outlets.
As the sun was beginning to set on the most bizarre day of her life, she ranked the quality of service that she received from her own personas throughout the day. The service ranged from poor, mediocre, to excellent.
She then thought of herself as a consumer and decided to rate herself as the recipient of the service. Her affect towards those giving her service was at times excellent, sometimes mediocre and at other times downright rude.
She went to Central Park and found a quiet place to regroup. She looked up to the heavens and began a monologue, perhaps the first one in her life that wasn’t drenched in negativity and cynicism.
“I understand why You did this to me. I’ve been egocentric for as long as I can remember. I promise that I will be more caring towards others. I promise I’ll lower my ridiculously high expectations of others and I will raise my own standards of how I treat people.”
“I will keep all of my promises on one condition. Please, I beg of you, please return the world to the way it was when I went to sleep last night. Only one Gloria. Just one. Turn everyone back to themselves. One of me is enough for this world.”
A jogger approached her from behind and nearly knocked her over. Gloria was about to scream at the runner, but stopped herself when she realized the jogger looked nothing like her. Her prayers had been answered. It was time for her to keep her end of the deal. The world had reverted back to itself and there was only one Aunt Gloria.
Although she slipped on occasion, for the most part Gloria kept her promises. By doing so, she gave the world a better self. The world now had an inhabitant who was tolerant, accepting, and a pleasure to be around. The new and improved Gloria enjoyed helping others. The few times when she allowed herself to be pampered, she was a pleasure to serve. At the end of the day, the world would be a better place with more Aunt Glorias.
-- -- --
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, "Take Two: Your Second Chance to Create the Life you Want" 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
Aunt Gloria woke up groggy after a fitful sleep involving dreams of twin sisters, genetic cloning, and a clip from the Democratic Convention in which Barack Obama selected himself as his own running mate.
She pulled herself together and went to the gym. Even though she was in her early 70s, she worked out three days a week. Before, during and after her workout, she criticized the poor service she received at the club.
Gloria looked down and reached into her purse to get her membership badge. As she handed the tag to the attendant, she had a strange sensation that she was looking at herself. Gloria thought this was just a pre-coffee anomaly caused by the club’s mirrors and poor lighting, and didn’t think much of it.
As she started her rounds on the treadmill, Gloria noticed that all the trainers, male and female, were her exact duplicate. Gloria screamed and ran out of the club still wearing her workout clothes.
Everywhere she went, she was greeted by Aunt Gloria clones. This included the conductors on the subways, the anchormen on the news, and New York City’s finest who were handing out tickets and chasing after muggers. Aunt Glorias were making drug deals, selling used cars, and peddling hot dogs on street corners.
Each encounter with her clones shocked her less as the novelty wore off. Gloria realized that that she was being tested from Above. She went along with the experience, and received service from tens of Aunt Gloria’s throughout the day in cafes, restaurants, and retail outlets.
As the sun was beginning to set on the most bizarre day of her life, she ranked the quality of service that she received from her own personas throughout the day. The service ranged from poor, mediocre, to excellent.
She then thought of herself as a consumer and decided to rate herself as the recipient of the service. Her affect towards those giving her service was at times excellent, sometimes mediocre and at other times downright rude.
She went to Central Park and found a quiet place to regroup. She looked up to the heavens and began a monologue, perhaps the first one in her life that wasn’t drenched in negativity and cynicism.
“I understand why You did this to me. I’ve been egocentric for as long as I can remember. I promise that I will be more caring towards others. I promise I’ll lower my ridiculously high expectations of others and I will raise my own standards of how I treat people.”
“I will keep all of my promises on one condition. Please, I beg of you, please return the world to the way it was when I went to sleep last night. Only one Gloria. Just one. Turn everyone back to themselves. One of me is enough for this world.”
A jogger approached her from behind and nearly knocked her over. Gloria was about to scream at the runner, but stopped herself when she realized the jogger looked nothing like her. Her prayers had been answered. It was time for her to keep her end of the deal. The world had reverted back to itself and there was only one Aunt Gloria.
Although she slipped on occasion, for the most part Gloria kept her promises. By doing so, she gave the world a better self. The world now had an inhabitant who was tolerant, accepting, and a pleasure to be around. The new and improved Gloria enjoyed helping others. The few times when she allowed herself to be pampered, she was a pleasure to serve. At the end of the day, the world would be a better place with more Aunt Glorias.
-- -- --
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, "Take Two: Your Second Chance to Create the Life you Want" 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
Thursday, August 21, 2008
The Court of Last Divorce
One more signature and the divorce would be final. They had tried everything to stay together. Marriage counselors, gurus, and even low fat yogurt. Nothing seemed to put an end to their non-stop fighting and threats.
So instead of celebrating their 20th anniversary in Las Vegas, hitting the casinos and getting a tan by the pool, Jamie and Ronald were waiting in court to get the world's fastest divorce.
Judge Walter Sanders, who was decked out in full legal regalia, wasn't a big talker. He just wanted to make sure both parties wanted a divorce before he filled out the paperwork, collected his fee, and went on to dissolve the next marriage.
Shortly after their preliminary discussion, Judge Sanders excused himself to get something from the next room. Seconds after he left, Geraldine, the gardener, came into the office to water the plants.
Geraldine was tall, athletic, and had a kind face with a knowing smile. She asked the couple if they minded if she went about her work. They agreed with a shrug, avoiding any eye contact with her.
Geraldine watered a few plants and then asked the couple, "Would you say y'all have 5 or 6 basic arguments?"
"Excuse me?" Ronald asked.
"You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I'm just curious," Geraldine said.
Jamie answered, "I guess we have 5 arguments."
Ronald countered, "I'd say more like 15 or 16 different ones a day."
"Whatever," Jamie said, as she raised her eyes to the ceiling and groaned.
Geraldine continued her work in silence.
"Why do you want to know?" Ronald asked.
"No reason, really. I was just curious," Geraldine said.
"Come on, you must have had a reason to ask us," Jamie said.
"I've seen a lot of couples come through here. I listen closely, and notice that their fights usually boil down to the same 5 or 6 arguments," the gardener observed.
"Yeah, so?" Ron asked.
"So it breaks my heart when couples split up when they don't have to, " Geraldine said.
"This is really none of your business, " Ronald said.
"I know. That's why I shut up," Geraldine said.
"But you started this whole thing," Jamie said.
"Yeah, I know. I'm just nosey. Sorry," Geraldine answered.
"Well, as long as you are prying into our personal life, I'll pry into yours," Ronald said.
"Pry away," Geraldine offered.
"You married?" Ron asked
"Yes, for the second time. My first marriage ended after a few months. His decision. The second marriage is heading into its 20th year," Geraldine said.
"Just like us…well, what would have been us," Jamie said, with a tinge of sadness in her voice.
"Both marriages involved, and do involve, the same 5 or 6 arguments," Geraldine said.
"Really?" Ronald asked.
"Hubby number one didn't want to stick around to resolve our differences, so I didn't even put up a fight," Geraldine said with no hint of regret in her voice.
"What about husband number two? How do you deal with the fighting?" Jamie asked.
"Usually with humor," Geraldine answered.
"Can you give us an example?" Ronald asked.
"Well, when he starts argument number 5, I respond with my defense for argument 3, and we just start laughing," Geraldine explained.
"That's it?" Jamie asked.
"Well, there's more to it than that. But once we understood we have the same arguments over and over, we wrote out the solutions on paper," Geraldine said. "When the argument breaks out, we just calmly hand over the appropriate slip of paper to the other."
"You make it sound so simple," Ron said.
"Y'all make it sound so hard," Geraldine countered.
"Anyway, I'll get back to work. If y'all ever want to talk, give me a call. The Judge has my number. I get calls from couples all the time," Geraldine explained.
"I thought you were a gardener?" Jamie asked.
"Yes, I am. I am involved with growth and development. I pick weeks when I have to, but I almost never uproot what's been planted. Here comes the judge. Gotta run," Geraldine said, and then she left the Judge's chamber.
"You have to sign some documents now," the Judge said upon his return.
"No we don't," Ronald announced.
"What? You've been wanting this divorce for years. Now you are backing out?" Jamie asked.
"Yes, and so are you. Let's go celebrate our anniversary," Ronald said.
"Really?" Jamie asked.
"Yes. Let's go. We can call Geraldine later and give her the good news," Ronald said.
"You can do as you wish, but I'm going to charge you the full fee plus a fine for processing all of this paperwork," the Judge said sternly.
"No problem. Just tell me what I owe you," Ronald said.
They settled with the judge and got Geraldine's number.
The couple left, and the Judge was left alone with the gardener. Jamie and Ronald ended up at Geraldine's home that evening for dinner and were surprised to find out the identity of her husband.
"Walter?" Geraldine asked.
"Yes, Geraldine," the Judge answered.
"I think you should increase my split from 40 to 50%," Geraldine said.
"Is this argument 3 or 5?" the judge asked.
"I don't care what number you give the argument, I want my 50%, and I want it now," Geraldine said.
"You drive a hard bargain," the Judge said.
"Tell me something I don't know," Geraldine said.
"Okay, you got your 50% sweetheart. I'll put it in writing tonight," the Judge said.
"I knew you'd see it my way, honey," Geraldine said, kissing her husband lightly on the cheek.
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, "Take Two: Your Second Chance to Create the Life You Want" 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
So instead of celebrating their 20th anniversary in Las Vegas, hitting the casinos and getting a tan by the pool, Jamie and Ronald were waiting in court to get the world's fastest divorce.
Judge Walter Sanders, who was decked out in full legal regalia, wasn't a big talker. He just wanted to make sure both parties wanted a divorce before he filled out the paperwork, collected his fee, and went on to dissolve the next marriage.
Shortly after their preliminary discussion, Judge Sanders excused himself to get something from the next room. Seconds after he left, Geraldine, the gardener, came into the office to water the plants.
Geraldine was tall, athletic, and had a kind face with a knowing smile. She asked the couple if they minded if she went about her work. They agreed with a shrug, avoiding any eye contact with her.
Geraldine watered a few plants and then asked the couple, "Would you say y'all have 5 or 6 basic arguments?"
"Excuse me?" Ronald asked.
"You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I'm just curious," Geraldine said.
Jamie answered, "I guess we have 5 arguments."
Ronald countered, "I'd say more like 15 or 16 different ones a day."
"Whatever," Jamie said, as she raised her eyes to the ceiling and groaned.
Geraldine continued her work in silence.
"Why do you want to know?" Ronald asked.
"No reason, really. I was just curious," Geraldine said.
"Come on, you must have had a reason to ask us," Jamie said.
"I've seen a lot of couples come through here. I listen closely, and notice that their fights usually boil down to the same 5 or 6 arguments," the gardener observed.
"Yeah, so?" Ron asked.
"So it breaks my heart when couples split up when they don't have to, " Geraldine said.
"This is really none of your business, " Ronald said.
"I know. That's why I shut up," Geraldine said.
"But you started this whole thing," Jamie said.
"Yeah, I know. I'm just nosey. Sorry," Geraldine answered.
"Well, as long as you are prying into our personal life, I'll pry into yours," Ronald said.
"Pry away," Geraldine offered.
"You married?" Ron asked
"Yes, for the second time. My first marriage ended after a few months. His decision. The second marriage is heading into its 20th year," Geraldine said.
"Just like us…well, what would have been us," Jamie said, with a tinge of sadness in her voice.
"Both marriages involved, and do involve, the same 5 or 6 arguments," Geraldine said.
"Really?" Ronald asked.
"Hubby number one didn't want to stick around to resolve our differences, so I didn't even put up a fight," Geraldine said with no hint of regret in her voice.
"What about husband number two? How do you deal with the fighting?" Jamie asked.
"Usually with humor," Geraldine answered.
"Can you give us an example?" Ronald asked.
"Well, when he starts argument number 5, I respond with my defense for argument 3, and we just start laughing," Geraldine explained.
"That's it?" Jamie asked.
"Well, there's more to it than that. But once we understood we have the same arguments over and over, we wrote out the solutions on paper," Geraldine said. "When the argument breaks out, we just calmly hand over the appropriate slip of paper to the other."
"You make it sound so simple," Ron said.
"Y'all make it sound so hard," Geraldine countered.
"Anyway, I'll get back to work. If y'all ever want to talk, give me a call. The Judge has my number. I get calls from couples all the time," Geraldine explained.
"I thought you were a gardener?" Jamie asked.
"Yes, I am. I am involved with growth and development. I pick weeks when I have to, but I almost never uproot what's been planted. Here comes the judge. Gotta run," Geraldine said, and then she left the Judge's chamber.
"You have to sign some documents now," the Judge said upon his return.
"No we don't," Ronald announced.
"What? You've been wanting this divorce for years. Now you are backing out?" Jamie asked.
"Yes, and so are you. Let's go celebrate our anniversary," Ronald said.
"Really?" Jamie asked.
"Yes. Let's go. We can call Geraldine later and give her the good news," Ronald said.
"You can do as you wish, but I'm going to charge you the full fee plus a fine for processing all of this paperwork," the Judge said sternly.
"No problem. Just tell me what I owe you," Ronald said.
They settled with the judge and got Geraldine's number.
The couple left, and the Judge was left alone with the gardener. Jamie and Ronald ended up at Geraldine's home that evening for dinner and were surprised to find out the identity of her husband.
"Walter?" Geraldine asked.
"Yes, Geraldine," the Judge answered.
"I think you should increase my split from 40 to 50%," Geraldine said.
"Is this argument 3 or 5?" the judge asked.
"I don't care what number you give the argument, I want my 50%, and I want it now," Geraldine said.
"You drive a hard bargain," the Judge said.
"Tell me something I don't know," Geraldine said.
"Okay, you got your 50% sweetheart. I'll put it in writing tonight," the Judge said.
"I knew you'd see it my way, honey," Geraldine said, kissing her husband lightly on the cheek.
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, "Take Two: Your Second Chance to Create the Life You Want" 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
Tuesday, July 29, 2008
If I were president
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.
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.
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.
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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.
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