Intercepting the hike

Contrary to popular belief, I don't think there is either covert or overt pressure placed on Texan students to participate in football. As a kid, I remember being offered a number of choices in school, such as joining offense, defense, or being the water boy.

My coach, Bill Smith (not his real name), a former philosophy professor, was sensitive to my need to be on the debate team and become the team owner. So I was exempt from playing with the team and instead I was in charge of crowd control and ticket sales.

During the championship football game in 6th grade, our side was 5 points behind with three minutes left in the game. We had just lost the ball to the opponents due to a fumble from our star player, an army brat named Binky (not a nickname). Binky was a motivated guy and was committed to saving face after his tragic mistake. To add to his determination to save the day, Binky knew that his father was pushing through state legislation to extend the death penalty to minors.

The quarterback screamed out the signals, the center hiked the ball, and believe it not, Binky intercepted the hike and ran for a touchdown. The referee did not call
"off sides" and gave us the touchdown, the game, and the championship.

The opponent's fans were up in arms and foaming at the mouth. I knew for a fact that many of them had not had their shots, so our team took cover behind the benches.

Bill Smith went on the field to have a little discussion with the opponent's coach. Bill was quoting Plato and Descartes, and their coach was quoting from slightly less intellectual sources, although some Latin words were thrown in for good measure.

The referee wouldn't budge, and his decision was irreversible. You've got to admire a guy who sticks to his guns even though the crowd is preparing him for the traditional tar and feathering ritual.

The other team was at peace with losing the game and came over to our side of the field to congratulate us. It was the opponent's coach and parents that didn't accept the decision and prompted our local police force to bring out their riot gear.

To the best of my knowledge, no defensive player has ever intercepted a hike in the history of football. In fact, this may have been a one time event, never to be duplicated again.

How did Binky do it? I think the answer lies in the nature of motivation. We generally move towards positive outcomes or run away from negative consequences. Binky's miraculous play was his attempt to move away from inevitable ridicule by his peers and the imminent punishment from his father. He was also moving towards the euphoria of winning the game, and perhaps convincing his parents to change his name before he turned 18.

Before an impossible task is accomplished, it seems like science fiction. The day before Jonas Salk invented the polio vaccine, the concept was out of the realm of comprehension. Today, polio vaccines are as common as injured referees on elementary school sports fields.

We have to coax our inner Binky out of its shell if we want to make a real impact upon the world. We need to improve the quality of our self-talk that should be transmitting the message that if we try hard enough, we just might be able to turn the impossible into reality. While we are at it, it might also be advantageous to inject parents with some time-release valium before halftime.

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, a personal and corporate coaching company. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published in the spring. 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 2007 by Ben Goldfarb

Hamming it up in a Jewish army

The story that you are about to read is mostly true. For security reasons, many of the facts have been changed, except for those that were fabricated.

Arriving late for your first stint of reserve duty in the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) is like showing up on the set of a foreign film without a script. Due to the flu, I missed the first three days of IDF training at which my cohorts learned about tear gas, hand grenades and mixed drinks.

Once my fever went down, I mustered up the strength to drive myself to my army base to report for active duty. After being yelled at for approximately two hours due to my tardiness and lack of color coordination, I was sent to a quaint Arab village called Abu Dis. This picturesque vacation spot is located just a stone's throw away from the Mount of Olives in East Jerusalem.

No sooner did I arrive than I was sent out on foot patrol. Our goal was to round up the usual suspects and make it back to the base by lunchtime.

Here I was, a nice Jewish boy from Texas, checking our cousins for guns, knives and pirated videos. Not 10 minutes into our excursion, I was asked to frisk some of the natives. Although they bore no resemblance to the natives I was familiar with from National Geographic, I had to jump into action.

Although I missed Frisking 101, I did spend a lot of time watching police scenes from "Hawaii 5-0," "Mod Squad" and "Sesame Street." All I had to do was replicate what I saw the overpaid actors do on television.

So I frisked two or three of the locals in the most efficient way possible. I thought I did a pretty good job. My commanding officer begged to differ. He didn't like the fact that I used my Grover imitation when I interrogated the suspects. As punishment, I was transferred out of my beloved unit and sent to an alternative army base for "special" soldiers.

As soon as I arrived at the new base in the Jordan Valley, I noticed many subtle differences between this unit and my old one. For example, after I signed the guest registry, I received a complimentary robe and pair of slippers for the sauna. My previous unit would never even think of including the slippers.

After speaking with the concierge, I checked into my bungalow. So far, I was enjoying my transfer. The only problem in this little paradise was my army issue pants. Although lovely in design and color, they were four sizes too big for me. My requests to get another pair of pants were met by deaf ears. In a Jewish country, I assumed that at least one tailor would be in my unit, but fate was not on my side in the clothing department.

I spent most of my time pulling up my pants, which had a nasty habit of gravitating toward my knees. I used a phone cord as a makeshift belt, but this solution was less than satisfactory since the cord was in use at the time.

My commanding officer, Kobi, spent quality time with each of us at the end of our busy days of self-exploration, personal growth and origami workshops. He read us bedtime stories and tucked us in our cots with encouraging words.

One night Kobi was eating sunflower seeds while he was reading to me. Because his speech was somewhat muffled, I wasn't sure if he was reading "The Hardy Boys" or "The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire." Partly out of confusion, and partly out of my allergy to sunflower seeds, I drifted off into a deep sleep. I was told later that he put a special treat under my pillow for the morning.

Three hours later at 3:20 a.m., my REM sleep was rudely interrupted by the ear-piercing ringing of the alarm on the electrified Israeli/Jordanian fence. This alarm could mean possible terrorist infiltration, or a sudden increase in trading on NASDAQ.

I jumped out of my bed and tripped over my pants. As long as I was cursed with these pants, I would have the moral dilemma of dying of embarrassment or dying of gunshot wounds for failure to return enemy fire.

I could already picture the headlines the next morning: "Attempt to Intercept Terrorists Botched by Poorly Dressed American Immigrant."

I got up off the floor, pulled up my pants and climbed into the waiting jeep. I noticed Kobi was panicking. I tried to help him with some visualization and guided imagery, but he looked at me as if I were speaking broken Hebrew. Looking back on the event years later, I realized he was right.

After a 10-minute ride, we arrived a few feet away from the point of infiltration. Kobi ordered us to break up into small groups. Two enlisted men and Kobi headed north, and my pair of pants and I proceeded south.

We reached the location of the security breach, and confirmed that this was no false alarm. The Jewish state had in fact been infiltrated. The sovereign state of Israel's security was compromised by a 200-pound wild boar. The creature had got himself tangled in the electric fence, and was squealing like, for lack of a better metaphor, a stuck pig.

This boar was the epitome of chutzpa. He knew full well that the Jews wouldn't eat him, the Muslims wouldn't touch him, and there were no Thai workers around who would bring him home for breakfast.

With the help of an alternative veterinarian and a holistic electrician, we were able to release the creature from his trap. The behemoth was unscathed and now free to return to the Jordanian side. This newly liberated animal could now continue doing whatever it is that pigs do at three o'clock in the morning in the Middle East.

We drove back to our tent. Kobi was back to himself — relaxed, confident, and spitting sunflower shells all over me. I went back to my bungalow and fell back into a deep, sweet sleep. I felt something under my pillow, but I didn't want to peek and ruin Kobi's surprise. I would wait for the morning to see what he got for me.

When I woke up a few hours later, I found a jar of Kosher Imitation Bacon Bits under my pillow. Then to my surprise, I was greeted by journalists and camera crews from GQ, the Humane Society and Greenpeace. Maybe it was time to go back to Abu Dis.


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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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published in the spring. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb.

Near life experiences

The Kotzker Rebbe, (1787 - 1859), once said that although he might be capable of resurrecting the dead, he prefers to bring the living back to life. I think his words ring as true today as they did 150 years ago. We are living in a society in which great numbers of our fellow human beings are having "near-life" experiences.
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Apart from brain dead activity such as hanging out at the mall or listening to people who begin every sentence with the word "like", I am the first to admit that I have had some brief episodes of near-life experiences in the past. Two examples of my momentary slumber are my junior year of high school and my life during most of the Reagan administration.

Having identified the problem, how can we go about solving it? How do we wake up and stay conscious long enough to live a full, meaningful life and still manage to pay our electricity bills on time?

Before I answer that question, I must identify one of the culprits that prevent us from living a purposeful and aware life. The perpetrator is TV, or more specifically, watching it. The other culprit is call waiting, but that subject is way beyond the scope of this column.

The exceptions to this attack on TV are Seinfeld reruns and some children's shows. I grew up on "Captain Kangaroo", which, by the way, was very uncomfortable. Nonetheless, this show had a positive impact on me. To many of you who know me, this may explain a lot of things about my personality.

That being said, TV makes it difficult for us Homo Sapiens to decide what is real and what isn't. Television lulls us into a near-life experience mindset, even though watching TV can often lead to winning cash and valuable prizes.

The Talmud labels sleep as 1/60th of death. If TV existed when the Talmud was redacted, I think the Rabbis would label death as 1/60th of TV.

I don't want to sound like an extremist. I know there are gray areas between life and death. One example that pops to mind is listening to President Bush at a press conference.

Once we identify the elements in our existence that nurture life and not its opposite, we can then run a simple test to see if we are sleeping or truly alive.

I call this the pinch test. Pinch yourself and see if you respond. If you don't respond, you might be asleep, or your might be watching "Leave it to Beaver" reruns. If you don't feel the pinch, you may not be applying enough pressure with your fingers or you may not understand the fundamental mechanics of pinching.

Once we've taken this test, we should look at our life and divide up our activities into two categories: Category A and B.

Category A activities help us, directly or indirectly, acquire this world Olam Hazeh and the world to come Olam Habah.

Category B activities help us, directly or indirectly, earn Office Depot discount points.

The choice is ours. Eternal bliss basking in the light of the Divine Presence, or purchasing electric pencil sharpeners that break the day after the warranty expires.

There is no judgment going on here. Whatever path we choose, we should pursue it with alacrity, seriousness, and an eye to upgrading our laptop computers.

I believe with all of my heart and soul in life after death. I also subscribe to the notion of life after birth. That being said, I suggest we all live our lives fully and consciously, even if we go through our existence with unsharpened pencils.

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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity, and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published in the spring. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com

© Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb

Life partners and corporate America

What do choosing life partners and running companies have in common? Besides the obvious components such as quarterly reviews, marketing, and advertising, there are some surprising elements that the two share.

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Perhaps the most obvious thing the two have in common is the hiring process.

If you headed the Human Resources Department of a large company, would you approve the following recommendation for a new hire?

Candidate is under-qualified and lacks motivation to learn new skills. He is desperate for work and will settle for any job at any salary. His CV reflects a scattered employment history and he badmouths his former bosses and places of work. However, he has a nice smile and we think he will be lots of fun at office parties.

Unless you want to be on the unemployment lines yourself, you would never hire such a candidate.

Yet when choosing a life partner, we think it's okay to settle for a "fixer upper". We allow our rational decision making process to be influenced by looks, money, or a date's knowledge of music trivia.

I'm not saying there's no place for romance. I'm as romantic as the next guy, as long as I'm sitting at a truck stop in Deming, New Mexico. I don't like to brag about my romantic escapades, but on more than one occasion I've invited my wife to come with me when I go bowling with the guys. I even let her keep score sometimes.

Marriage is more like starting a corporation than a never-ending date. Finding a marriage partner should be no different than hiring a Vice President for a large and powerful company.

Husband and wife are like the VPs of a global, multi-generational organization. They deal with economics, transportation, conflict resolution, and industrial waste, especially when the kids are in diapers. You don't want to trust this level of responsibility to someone whose only redeeming feature is that he can quote entire episodes of "The Sopranos" by heart.

The metaphors we chose when selecting a life partner are crucial. Instead of seeing yourself as a rehab unit, start visualizing yourself as a successful start-up merging with another proven business concern. Otherwise, you may find your new corporate entity filing for bankruptcy after its final office party.

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 in the spring. 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 2007 by Ben Goldfarb

Does life imitate art or am I on the bus?

If given the choice, I would prefer to travel around the country by chauffeured limousine. However, I often resort to traveling by bus when the car is in the shop or waiting at the dealership. And it's a good thing that I travel with the masses sometimes, because it was on a bus that I learned a life-changing lesson that would stay with me forever, or at least until my driver's license expires.

In the early 90s, I was minding my own business on a bus ride from Jerusalem to Tel- Aviv, sipping my ice coffee and reviewing the notes for my upcoming meeting. All of the sudden, one of the bus tires was punctured. This made an extremely loud noise, akin to a bomb going off, or a late night infomercial.

The passenger to my left, a young college-aged woman, hugged me after she heard the noise, apparently as a response to her fear. After she realized that we were in no immediate danger, she released me and apologized profusely for invading my personal space. I told her that it was no problem and I went back to reviewing my notes, which were now soaked with ice coffee, as were my shirt, pants, and left sock.

(For the sake of my continued marital bliss, allow me to digress for a moment and mention that this incident occurred several years before I got married. Furthermore, I didn't find the woman the least bit attractive. In fact, I wasn't even sure she was female at first as she sported a mustache, a beard and uneven sideburns.)

I started thinking about why she hugged me. Did she witness this fear response in cartoons? Did the cartoonists observe this phenomenon in real life and express it in their animation?

This question has been plaguing humankind from time immemorial, or at least since the invention of Dixie Riddle Cups™. The question is, does life imitate art, or does art imitate life?

The answer to this question is obvious: Who cares?

The real question that was generated by this bus incident is whether our present life imitating our ideal life, or is our ideal life waiting out in the cold, pounding on the door trying to get in?

I think most people in the western world aren't living up to their potential. I have no statistics to back up my theory, but if I were to write up a report about it, I'd choose a really colorful binder.

Maybe the reason why the woman hugged me had nothing to do with fear. In that split second when the tire ripped into shreds, perhaps she realized that her life might come to an abrupt end. Her instincts told her to hold on to another human being in the attempt to become united with another person. It could be that she had not yet become complete with herself. Or maybe she wanted to see what I looked like with a stained shirt.

Whether or not this theory is true, it's worthwhile for all of us to determine whether or not our current life is imitating our ideal life. If our current life is approximating our ideal life, then we can just continue doing the same thing. If we aren't living up to our ideal life, then we should take action so we don't end up doing something foolish on a bus.

The first step to living our ideal life is to identify what it is. The second step is to create an action plan, and the third step is to execute it. The time to start is now, or at least before your driver's license expires.

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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity, and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published in the spring. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com

© Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb

Signs, wonders and tablecloths

The same day she received the wedding invitation from her ex-boyfriend, she went to a fancy store to buy a gift for the new couple. It had been years since they broke up, and she was truly happy for him. So why was she crying when she got back into her car with the tablecloth she just purchased?

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It wasn't just an ordinary tablecloth either. It was decorated with a plethora of Jewish and family symbols that evoked strong emotions.

"This tablecloth should be on our Shabbat table, not in his home with some stranger," she wailed as she fumbled with her car keys. She hadn't thought of her ex-boyfriend in romantic terms in years. Besides, she was dating someone at the time. These thoughts were as foreign to her as philosophical discussions on MTV.

She pulled herself together, mailed the tablecloth to Jerusalem with a thoughtful card, and went on with her life.

Her ex-boyfriend received the gift and placed it in one of his boxes of socks for his upcoming move from his bachelor pad to his new apartment. He thought it was really kind of his ex-girlfriend to send a gift. She even apologized for not being able to come to the wedding.

Three weeks later, he got married.

Some marriages, like exotic plants in non-indigenous environments, don't "take". Their union lacked the soil, nutrients and water it needed to thrive.

A few months later, the ex-boyfriend turned ex-husband found himself moving out of his new apartment back into yet another bachelor pad. Once again, he was surrounded by other single guys who whined about how much they wanted to get married, but, fortunately, not to each other.

As he was sifting through his boxes, he saw the unopened tablecloth. He didn't think much of this discovery at the time and just kept it sandwiched between his used books, journals, and socks. Lots and lots of socks.

Three years went by. He went out with many women, but no one even came close to becoming his second Mrs. Right. His blind dates taught him a lot about the human condition and his increasing pain threshold.

He found out that his ex-girlfriend was now someone else's ex-girlfriend. He also learned that she was planning on moving to Israel.

Like any other fellow Jew, he wanted to help make her emigration to Israel as easy as possible. He picked her up at the airport and helped her get settled at a friend's house. They agreed to meet for coffee the next day.

While he had fantasies of getting back together with her, she was fed up with men and wanted to focus on her profession in her new country. She saw herself as being an honorary aunt to his future children.

As planned, they got together at a quaint outdoor café the next day. They spoke. They laughed. They split the bill and the tip. They got married five months later.

Friday afternoon before their first Shabbat together, he took her still unopened wedding gift out of its hiding place and handed it to her.

"Do you want to help me set the table?" he asked.

They opened the present together and spread it on the table.

When she saw the set table, she started crying, and it wasn't just because she finally got him to help around the house. She remembered her tears in that parking lot in America three years ago. Her prayer had come true. The gift really was meant for their Shabbat table after all.

He started crying too. While he was caught up in the emotion of the moment, he was also worried that he had created a dangerous precedent by helping with the housework.

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 in the spring. 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 I live in Israel

I was born and raised in the United States, and I am not ashamed to say that I love America. I feel a deep sense of gratitude toward the U.S. for providing a safe haven for Jews and other minorities. I enjoy my visits to the States, which reinforce positive feelings I have for many aspects of American culture and mentality.

NOTE: Once you live in Israel, Jewish law (Halacha) delineates specific guidelines regarding the permissibility of leaving Israel even for short trips. Consult your rabbi for more information.

Despite these positive feelings, however, I still decided to move thousands of miles away from home and settle in another country. Here are some of the reasons which led to my ascent to the land of Israel.

Religious obligation
The debate of whether or not there is a commandment to live in Israel is beyond the scope of this article. Suffice it to say that I subscribe to the opinion that there is a biblical commandment to live in the land of Israel. As an Orthodox Jew, observing the Torah is a package deal. Just as I have an obligation to observe the Sabbath (Shabbat) and keep Kosher, I have an obligation to live in Israel.

Historical mandate
In my humble opinion, I believe the future of the Jewish People revolves around our presence on Jewish soil. Jewish history is here in the making. Rather than being a spectator and supporter of Israel from abroad, I prefer to be an active participant in her history and destiny.

Education and culture
There is nothing like watching your children grow up in Israel. Fluent in unaccented Hebrew, they soak up religious texts with ease. They were given the gift of growing up in what I like to define as normative Jewish existence — being Jewish in a Jewish country. They are therefore free, for the most part, of the baggage of an exile mentality.

As for their educational opportunities, there are more students learning Torah now in Israel than in pre-Holocaust Europe. While many would argue that we haven't reached the quality of learning that was attained by the Torah giants and their students before World War II, most people would agree that the opportunities for Torah learning in Israel are by far the most diverse and extensive in the world.

Economic standard of living
There is a popular myth that one can't "make it" in Israel. This carries as much weight as many of the urban legends circulating on the Internet. I know of countless examples of Israelis who moved to the United States for the "good life" who are living hand-to-mouth. Alternatively, I am intimately familiar with numerous American expatriates and returning Israelis who are making a much better living here in Israel than they did in the land of opportunity.

The amount of money a person is destined to make in any given year is determined on the Jewish New Year (Rosh HaShannah). This amount of money will not be increased or decreased by a single penny, no matter what country you choose to live in. Moving to Israel will not necessarily decrease one's livelihood; it might even increase it.

Spiritual standard of living
Israel has the highest spiritual standard of living in the world. Almost everywhere you turn in Israel, you will find individuals and groups of people who are involved in spiritual growth, giving to others, and creating a better world. No one can deny that these activities take place in the Diaspora, but in my experience, the degree and depth of these spiritual pursuits in Israel surpass anything I have seen or experienced anywhere else.

These are some of the reasons why I live in Israel. While this list isn't designed to persuade anyone to move here, it is intended to be a partial explanation of why I shifted from the American to the Israeli dream.

(Part 2 of this article, "How I live in Israel," will appear next month.)


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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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book "Double Feature" will be published in the winter. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb.

How I live in Israel

In a recent column, I discussed why I live in Israel. This column will deal with the practical tips and tricks of living and flourishing in the land of milk and honey.

Despite all the advantages and pleasures of living in the Holy Land, dwelling in the land of our forefathers is not without its challenges. Here are some practical suggestions for dealing with, and rising above, these challenges.

Family
Despite all of the compelling reasons to live here, it is nonetheless very painful to be so far away from family. In my opinion, this is the hardest obstacle to overcome when immigrating to Israel.

If it weren't for the daily hope of the coming of the Messiah (Mashiach), when all of the Jewish people will return to Israel, I probably wouldn't be able to deal very well with the absence of my family.

The belief in the advent of the Messianic age is not some vague hope or mere lip service. According to Jewish law, it is incumbent upon us to believe in the coming of the Mashiach. This belief must be a deeply internalized anticipation of an actual, imminent reality. We have to anticipate his arrival daily. So when I wake up each morning, I'm convinced that some time during the day I will see my family from America and we will "do lunch," or perhaps share an early dinner.

Bureaucracy
From time immemorial, the trick to getting good service is to set a pleasant tone from the onset of the interaction with the service provider. This is true in Israel and in any country in the world. Whether it's a waiter, a clerk or a flight attendant, when you begin communicating with a smile, a sincere compliment or an expression of gratitude or empathy, the person on the receiving end of your kindness will want to give you the best service possible.

I have an ongoing collection of stories of how clerks from the Israeli Ministry of the Interior bent over backward to help me and performed tasks bordering on the miraculous to get me what I needed. This was all because I spoke to them as they deserve to be spoken to — as fellow human beings created in the image of God. (This is true even for employees at the Department of Motor Vehicles.)

Culture shock
The Talmud teaches us that as we approach the Messianic age, the generation preceding it will be filled with negative character traits. Although I try to see the best in everyone, that doesn't mean that I'm naive or blind to the reality of the social fabric of Israel today.

However, non-Israelis often translate Israeli culture in their own subjective terms. These interpretations often lead to negative understandings. Over the years, I have come to appreciate many cultural phenomena in Israel. In particular, I appreciate the tendency of Israelis to be brutally honest and direct. I know exactly where I stand with my Israeli friends and colleagues. This is a refreshing change from some of the vague or misleading messages I often receive from my American counterparts.

I have learned to temporarily suspend judgment when I'm the recipient of certain Israeli behaviors and attitudes until I come up with alternative explanations. When we open up our hearts and minds to different interpretations of cultural behavior, we are often pleasantly surprised by what we see, hear and feel in this society.

Army
Many people don't want to move to Israel at all, or they want to postpone their move until they are past the draft age. Rather than seeing the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) experience as a burden to be avoided at all costs, my religious Zionist eyes see the opportunity to be in the first Jewish army in 2,000 years as a privilege. To this day, I'm still amazed that I served in a military organization that has kosher food, synagogues and access to military rabbis to address issues of law and theology.

I found basic training to be a physical and mental challenge that taught me a degree of discipline that I have been able to use in my Torah studies and work. Although I sometimes referred to boot camp as "summer camp from hell," I gained a tremendous amount from the experience. I have a greater understanding of Israeli society by having spent some time in uniform. Perhaps draft-dodging is part of our Jewish collective psyche from our experiences in Mother Russia (and perhaps in the United States during the Vietnam War). With the exception of legitimate yeshiva and academic deferrals, the IDF is not the army to avoid, especially now that we are back in our own land.

Perspective
Rabbi Shlomo Aviner, the chief rabbi of Beit El, once gave the following analogy to illustrate our relationship to the land of Israel. Imagine you are lost in the desert for hours on end. You are about to pass out from heat exposure and dehydration. Suddenly you spot a small shed. You run to the primitive structure, go inside and find a rusty, but functional, water fountain. You recite a blessing and then drink the lukewarm water. After you regain your composure, do you begin to criticize your drab surroundings and the poor quality of the structure? Of course not. The proper thing to do is to continue your appreciation and gratitude for this humble, but lifesaving, oasis.

So too is the case with our sojourn in the State of Israel. While we are far from perfect and we have to pray daily for a better society, we should have a great deal of gratitude for how much God has allowed us to grow and develop in the past century. Through God's blessing, we were able to carve a paradise out of a desert, and we have to be thankful and in awe of how far we have come in less than 100 years.

Instead of complaining when waiting in line in a government office, remember that just a few decades ago the ground upon which we are now standing was a mosquito- infested swamp. We should be dancing up and down the aisles in appreciation of God's blessing upon our people instead of complaining that things aren't going the way we had planned.

Whether you plan on moving here immediately and booking the next El Al flight to Tel Aviv, or if you choose to wait to emigrate when you will be brought here on the wings of eagles, one thing is for certain. You now have more tools at your disposal to make your permanent visit in Israel enjoyable and relatively pain-free.


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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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book "Double Feature" will be published in the winter. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb.

Will battle

We are all born with both a good and an evil inclination. The battle between the two is often most pronounced during the Jewish New Year (Rosh HaShana). While it appears that our evil inclination wants to destroy our lives, the good news is — he wants us to win the battle against him. Furthermore, he is easy to identify and overcome because he has no sense of humor.

Don't get me wrong. Our evil inclination (Yetzer HaRah) says the most hilarious and ludicrous things. He makes Howard Stern sound like NPR. The problem is, we often take these statements seriously. This can interfere with our repentance (Tshuva) process.

Tshuva is a three-step process:
1. Admitting our mistakes
2. Feeling remorse over our actions
3. Committing ourselves to never repeating these mistakes and wrongdoings again

We will know that we have repented successfully when we are put in the same situation that led up to the wrongdoing and we choose to refrain from that same behavior.

Let's examine the outrageous things the Yetzer HaRahwill say to confound us as we journey through these steps:

1. Admitting our mistakes
Oh, come on. You have made so many mistakes, you can't even begin to count them, much less admit them. They are too numerous. Quit before you even start.
2. Feeling remorse over our actions
Remorse is too good for you. You are not worthy. Tshuva applies to everyone on the planet except for you. Give it up already.
3. Committing ourselves to never repeating these mistakes and wrongdoings.
Yeah, right. New Year, same old mistakes. You'll never get it right. Quit. Quit. Quit.

When hearing these negative statements, try one or all of the suggestions below:
• Ignore the Yetzer HaRah entirely
• Do the exact opposite of what he suggests
• Alter his tone to diminish or eliminate his power. For example, try using the voice of a cartoon character or some other ludicrous tone, such as a mixture of the voices of Paris Hilton and George Bush.
• Change his speed. I have found that allowing the Yetzer HaRah to utter only one syllable per week tends to derail its train of thought. Alternatively, forcing the Yetzer HaRah to pump out 100,000 words a minute makes it a bit difficult to understand the message he is trying to communicate.
• Tell him a joke. He will not get it. This will distract him for enough time for you to get on with your life.

Sometimes it's not the mistake that we made that is the focus of our Tshuva process. The Yetzer HaRah has a plan to create depression in the aftermath of our misdeeds that can prove worse for our souls than the original wrongdoing.

Here are some of the ways the Yetzer HaRah works to get us depressed. Again, ignore the ludicrous machinations of the Yetzer HaRah, or do the exact opposite of what he suggests.
• Create Fear
Even though you know that you have no control whatsoever over your fears, nonetheless, try to make your fear even bigger and more frightening than it already is. Project your fear onto your internal field of vision so that it totally engulfs your entire existence. After that is done, make it even larger so that it terrorizes you even more.
• Envision Sadness
If a happy image pops into your head, gently push it out of the way and replace it with a depressing or disastrous thought. Since we can only think of one thing at a time, then make sure you only focus on sadness and don't allow those annoying images of happiness to creep into your nervous system.
• Think Negatively
Positive and proactive thinking just might lead you back on the road to happiness. Therefore, make a concerted effort to ensure that the bulk of the 40,000 to 60,000 thoughts that you have each day are negative and despondent. Limited and sad thoughts will lead to a limiting and sad existence.
• Gaze into the Future
Envision where you would like to see yourself five years from now. Make sure that image is identical to or worse than your status quo. If for some reason you see a better "you" at the end of this time frame, then adjust the picture accordingly to fit into your ideal image of zero or negative growth.

Keeping these guidelines in mind will allow us to enter Rosh HaShana confident that we will overcome the evil inclination (Yetzer HaRah) and perhaps enjoy a good laugh with our good inclination (Yetzer HaTov). In this way, we just might make it to the level of serving God with Awe and Joy.


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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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book "Double Feature" will be published in the winter. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb.

Fear and loving in Las Vegas

Imagine you are in a Las Vegas casino at 3 a.m. You have just gambled away your life savings. You are now contemplating selling your children as indentured servants. Before you cut the deal, a still, small voice inside you suggests that this may not be a good idea.*

You decide to listen to your conscience, and you stop the madness immediately. Defeated and exhausted, you leave the casino floor and journey back to your hotel room. Your children are safe, for the meantime, but you have still squandered a quarter of a million dollars in less than five hours. You will have a lot of explaining to do to your spouse and your business partners. You are now visualizing how you will look pushing a shopping cart around town collecting bottles and discarded clothing.

With nowhere else to turn, you call out to God Himself. You speak to Him freely, without the aid of a prayer book. You don't care if anyone overhears your conversation or not. Here are two versions of the monologue.

Version A: Fear
Master of the Universe, King of Kings, have mercy upon me. I have no right to even speak to you, much less ask anything of you. I am deeply embarrassed, and I know you are going to punish me with even more than I already brought upon myself. Please, I beg of you, allow me to somehow replenish the money that I lost. I promise you I won't do it again. You provided me with material gain, and I can't believe I threw it all away. Please, your humble servant implores you to temper Your wrath.

The manager of the casino happened to be walking down the hall when he heard you offer this prayer. He was so impressed by your words that he decided to return $10K of your losses. You can use this modest sum to invest in a business and build yourself up again.

Version B: Love
Dad, I love you. Your own child strayed off your path and should have known better. However, I'm proud to be in the family. You will see that my love for you is deep and pure. The pain that I felt while I was distant from you was so intense that I'm now motivated to get even closer to you than I was before. In fact, if it weren't for this little falling out, perhaps I would never have had the opportunity for this renewed closeness. My love for you and your Torah is eternal.

The manager of the casino overheard your supplication. He was so touched by your words that he not only returned your gambling losses to you, he sent you home with twice the amount of money that you lost. Your net worth has doubled since you hit Vegas.

Sincere repentance (tshuva) that is motivated by fear transforms our intentional sins into unintentional ones. Sincere repentance (tshuva) that is motivated by love transforms our intentional sins into merits.

Of course, you can't violate Torah law with the mindset that you will be able to repent at a later time. Furthermore, we are dealing with commandments between human beings and God. Infringements of Torah law between human beings must be worked out between the injured party and the one who caused the damage.

During these 10 days of repentance, when our very lives are hanging in the balance, we must look at our motivation and style of repenting as honestly as possible. As we approach the Day of Atonement (Yom Kippur), when our fate for the coming year is sealed, we have the opportunity to examine our deeds carefully and candidly. With the stakes this high, playing games with ourselves is simply not worth the gamble.

* The above scenario was inspired by a similar story found in the book "The Garden of Emuna," written by Rabbi Shalom Arush.


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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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book "Double Feature" will be published in the winter. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb.

Co-directing our lives

Imagine we have been recruited to co-direct and star in a major motion picture by one of the top directors in Hollywood. Despite our lack of experience, we are presented with an amazing contract. Our friends, colleagues and lawyer all advise us to sign on the dotted line. We follow their advice and take the job. A chauffeured limousine arrives at the studio to take us to the set. We get out of the car and find ourselves at the door of our own home.

Whether we know it or not, we all are called upon to co-direct and star in the film of our own lives. If we have already assumed this role, there might be room for improvement and we can fine-tune what we are already doing. If we haven't started the job yet, it's never too late to begin. Who's our co-director? The Almighty Himself.

Unlike most jobs, however, we have free rein with our job description, our hours and our work strategies. Our co-director might seem like a silent partner at times, but that is His way of giving us creative license.

We have to ask ourselves what we want to see in our film. Is the film we are envisioning similar to or different from our current life and to what extent? Our life may already be working well for us, and we just might need to modify some elements of it.

A crucial element of our movie is selecting the genre. We lead complex lives and play many different roles, so we probably will employ different genres depending upon the time of day and the context in which we find ourselves.

Here are some guidelines:

Raising children
Communication with our children often falls under the genre of FOREIGN (without subtitles). We may want to take some steps to aim toward the FAMILY category.

Marriage
Married life is often peppered with DRAMA and SUSPENSE. When appropriate, we may want to try some ROMANTIC COMEDY to lighten things up once in a while.

Profession
If we find ourselves in a job that is reminiscent of HORROR, then we may want to aim towards the direction of ADVENTURE.

Goal setting
If we see our dreams, hopes and aspirations as existing only in the realm of FANTASY, we should take some practical steps to move them into the world of DOCUMENTARY, BIOGRAPHY or REALITY.

Once we have a clear idea of which genres we want to employ, we must decide if we need a change of scenery, some new co-stars, or perhaps a major rewrite of the script. We owe it to ourselves to dedicate some energy and resources to create a plan of action with a time frame.

It is within our reach to co-direct a film that embodies our essence and resonates with our soul. We can give ourselves permission to enjoy the journey. We can celebrate each success along the way. We have the opportunity to learn from minor setbacks, stay focused on the larger picture and keep the momentum going.

Accepting the job of co-director is an opportunity to live a full life, realize our potential, and deepen our relationship with God. We need to write the script well, choose our co-actors wisely, and make our transitions between genres elegantly. Remember, we want to create a film that we would be happy to pay good money to see, and even invite others to watch with us.


— — —

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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book "Double Feature" will be published in the winter. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb.

Give your unconscious mind a promotion

Imagine you are the CEO of a company that is on the verge of becoming a global leader in your industry. The only thing keeping your firm from rising to the top is the development of a complex chemical compound that only one person in the world can produce. The problem is, the scientist who created this formula can't be located and seems to have dropped off the face of the earth.

Your staff have been working day and night trying to find this scientist, and so far their efforts have been in vain. Just when you are about to give up hope, there's a knock on your door. An excited researcher bursts into your office, accompanied by someone who looks vaguely familiar to you.

"I found him," your subordinate calls out.

"Where was he?" you ask.

"He's been here the whole time," he answers.

"What do you mean here?" you ask, growing impatient. "Here in this city, here in this country, where?" you demand.

"No, you don't understand," your employee continues. "He was here in our company. He's been working as a clerk in the mailroom for the past five years."

You then turn to the eccentric scientist with a mixture of anger and wonder. "Why didn't you reveal your identity to us?" you ask him.

The scientist, erstwhile mail clerk, looks straight into your eyes and answers, "No one asked me."

While this scenario might seem preposterous, the story serves as an appropriate metaphor for how we, the CEOs of our lives and our fate, allow our overqualified unconscious mind to remain an underachiever and linger at the bottom of the company ladder. We all possess a talented, hardworking unconscious mind that is ready, willing and able to help us design our future and give us virtually anything we want. But instead of utilizing the power of this tremendous resource lying dormant within us, we just allow it to continue to perform such menial (albeit crucial) tasks of monitoring our heart rate, keeping our breathing steady, and maintaining the appropriate level of white blood cells in our system.

We, in turn, rely primarily on our overly analytical conscious mind that gives us thousands of reasons why things won't work. The unconscious mind, on the other hand, is more playful and creative and provides us with millions of reasons why things can and will work faster and better than we think.

What is the reason we don't take advantage of our powerful unconscious mind to serve us? One reason might be that we are simply not aware of the power of our unconscious mind. We generally don't do anything about those things that are out of our thought processes. Perhaps we know about its power and are mindful of its impressive CV, but we don't know how to ask it to help us or what exactly to request of it.

Once we do become aware of the overqualified employee in the mailroom, we can now focus on how to promote our unconscious mind to vice president and work on fleshing out its job description.

One of the amazing things about the unconscious mind is that it is happy to work overtime, 24/7, and will do anything that we ask for as long as it doesn't violate our code of ethics. Our unconscious mind can transcend time by traveling, via the imagination, to the past and the future. This makes it easier for us to visualize positive events happening in the future, and enables us to reframe negative events that happened to us in the past. Like the scientist in the mailroom, our unconscious mind is infinitely skilled and capable: it is only waiting for us to make some requests of it.

The unconscious mind, according to many opinions, has the comprehension level of a sixth-grader. It responds best to simple commands that are stated in the positive. For example, instead of asking our unconscious mind to help us quit smoking, we can ask for its assistance in helping us become a smoke-free person or an individual with clean lungs.

When visualizing a positive outcome in the future, our unconscious mind can easily project us to that future time and act as if the event has already occurred. For example, one can say the following: It is March 21, 2008, and I have defended my master's thesis and have been accepted to a Ph.D. program.

When trying to overcome a trauma from the past, the unconscious mind can take us back to the actual event and help us to shrink down the negative emotions associated with the event, and focus on a positive aspect that the event engendered in our life. Future recollections of that particular dark moment in our life can now be empowering and uplifting instead of disturbing and discouraging.

Once we have developed rapport with our unconscious mind and encouraged it to play an active role on our executive team, we can prepare ourselves for some wonderful changes in our life. Our unconscious mind, now in a position of power and decision-making, can now harness its energy to our benefit, working in harmony with our conscious mind.

With both minds working in tandem, we can reach goals that once seemed impossible to even talk about, much less attain, now that our personal power quotient has grown exponentially. Whether or not we will succeed is no longer the appropriate question. Success is now inevitable. The only question is how much success we want to draw into our lives, now that we are operating with increased capacity. Of course, this question will only be answered after we hire a new mail clerk.


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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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book "Double Feature" will be published in the winter. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb.

Share your feelings, dude

Even though I was born male, I like to think of myself as a pretty sensitive guy. However, some friends and family members would beg to differ with my self-assessment. To set the record straight, I decided to join a men's group and let a jury of my peers be the final arbitrator of my touchy-feely status. I will let them, my fellow male members of the human race, decide if I am indeed an evolved male, or if I have the sensitivity of creatures much lower on the food chain.

I went on the Internet and signed up for the first Israeli men's group I could find. Unlike men's groups in the USA who meet once a week in someone's plush living room, sipping latte, eating quiche and sharing their feelings, Israeli men's groups are more earthy. They also tend to meet for a month at a time. Being the risk taker that I am, and in serious need of proving my point, I dropped everything and began packing for my trip. I filled my bag with volumes of 18th century romance poetry, my Meryl Streep DVD collection, and a four-week supply of Kleenex for those special moments of sharing when many of us might be tempted, dare I say it, to cry. I set my alarm for 5 a.m. for the next day when my adventure of male self-discovery would begin.

Early on a Sunday morning, 80 of us arrived from different parts of the country to a pleasant rural setting. By the looks on our faces, it was clear that we were ready, willing and able to engage in male bonding, or at least have a good excuse to sit around, drink beer and say highly unintelligent things. In order to eliminate class differences, we were issued simple clothing to wear for the duration of the month. Rich or poor, CEO or falafel salesman, we all found ourselves dressed the same way, suddenly stripped of our creature comforts and downgraded to living in primitive tents with no access to electricity for our laptops, cell phones or blow dyers.

Here is a summary of my men's group experience.

Week 1:
After putting on our special clothing, we were issued metal sticks that apparently are designed to fire small pieces of metal at high speeds. I sensed a great deal of cognitive dissonance when carrying this object for the first time. Here I was, trying to be a softer and more caring soul, and yet I was asked to wield an item that could cause damage to other human beings. However, my words and deep feelings were met by deaf ears. If I'm not mistaken, a couple of my cohorts actually snickered at my comments. Could there be something wrong with this group, or was it just me?

Our men's group is very hierarchical. Those who have been members for the longest period of time are entitled to order us around as we perform our different tasks ranging from culinary arts, physical fitness and foreign relations. For some reason, we have been training to use these metal sticks with surgical precision, but for what purpose I'm still not sure. I still think someone could get really hurt with these things if we aren't careful. In my heart of hearts, I think these objects are less than edifying and might divide, and certainly not unify, members of the human race. Am I missing something here?

Week 2:
I've noticed many of my fellow men's club members have evolved over the past week. For instance, when he first met me, Kobi, a high school dropout, called me a snobby, spoiled-rotten American jerk. After only a week of sharing and personal growth, he consciously drops the word "rotten" from his list of adjectives when he addresses me.

I'm also impressed by our resident gourmet chef, Uri, an ex-con from the south. Although he finds it difficult to use both nouns and verbs in the same sentence, he is still able to get his point across by using various hand gestures and speaking about the virtues and moral status of our respective mothers. I'm very proud of his communication skills, given his limited education, vocabulary, and the large number of tattoos on his arms and lower lip.

Week 3:
I think one of the most fascinating elements of our experience is when we encounter men's groups from other cultures in the region. They also walk around with metal instruments that fire pieces of metal at high speeds. On the rare occasion that we aren't able to resolve our differences with an honest assessment of our likes and dislikes and a sincere outpouring of our hearts, we sometimes aim and fire our implements at each other. I'm not sure what this accomplishes, but it definitely thrusts our dialogue to the next level.

Every once in a while, I am asked to visit certain houses and look for participants from other men's groups who aren't being team players at best, or are being downright unfriendly at worst. On more than one occasion I was forced to send some of these anti-social individuals to a special place where they can have a "time out" by themselves and think deeply about whether or not their actions are for the greater good. On some level, I think these people appreciated my help with their moral development. However, another part of me tells me these incarcerated individuals might harbor a tiny bit of resentment toward me and the other members of our men's group. I wonder if my intuitive powers are improving or if I am simply clueless.

Late at night, after a day of back-breaking exercise, non-stop food preparation, and deep philosophical discussions about the pros and cons of bringing championship wrestling to Israel, we often share our feelings about the elders of our group. We sometimes use certain terms of endearment to describe these people who order us around. At first, I thought these words were negative, but with time I realized that it's OK to question a person's lineage as long as it's said with a smile and it helps us get the sense of heaviness off our collective hairy chest.

Week 4:
We are really blending into a team, a veritable living, breathing organism that is greater than the sum of its parts. It is hard to put into words what this experience has done for me. In addition to losing weight and gaining a working knowledge of Russian slang, I also managed to decrease my lung capacity by inhaling the equivalent of 15 lifetimes worth of passive cigarette smoke. At the final awards banquet, I came in third place as the most sensitive male of the group, behind Kobi and Uri. I feel this was impressive for my first time around.

As our time together was drawing to a close, I found myself counting the days until our next special time together in this rustic setting. We switched back into our regular clothes, returned those dangerous metal sticks, and then headed back to our families with increased sensitivity and compassion. I feel we are changed people. When we see our wives and kids again, they will barely recognize us as we re-educate ourselves how to use napkins instead of our sleeves at mealtime. We are now ready to once again face the world as sensitive, caring and empathetic men.

For more information about joining this men's group, contact your local Israel Defense Forces (IDF) recruiting office, or visit the IDF website.


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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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book "Double Feature" will be published in the winter. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb

I've said too much already

Jerusalem is like a giant cosmic magnet. The holy city attracts a high number of amazing righteous souls (Tzadikim), about whom I could write volumes. Jerusalem also draws into herself a number of people who, for lack of a better term, are reality challenged.

Eight years ago, I was about to become an apartment owner. The only thing standing in the way of terminating my landless status was sending a fax to my lawyer by midnight. His failure to receive the fax would have been a deal breaker. My computer was on the blink, but I knew of a store downtown that had a fax service. They stayed open until midnight. Like many things in the Middle East, however, opening and closing hours are subject to change without notice.

I drove to town and found a parking space near Zion Square. Short of breath from running from my car, I made it to the store at 11:40. I had plenty of time to spare. Much to my chagrin, however, the "Closed" sign was already on the door. Luckily, the minimum-wage-earning teenager was still inside. His back was facing me and he was busy talking on the phone.

I banged on the door, pointing to my watch, but this 17-year-old punk tried his best to ignore me. After I repeatedly pounded on the door, he opened it reluctantly. He greeted me with all of the customer service you might expect from a prison warden.

In between his conversation with his girlfriend, he made hand gestures to the waiting fax machine, inviting me to fax the document myself.

With my shaking hands, I fed the document face down into the machine. After I punched in the Tel Aviv fax number and the glorious electronic sounds began emanating from the contraption, I noticed a middle-aged woman standing at the back of the store. She looked even more anxious than I did. She kept looking at her watch, and peeking out of the small window at the entrance.

I said hello to her, but she didn't respond. She avoided making any eye contact with me. I think this is how New Yorkers respond to strangers. In Texas, we respond to strangers by inviting them to our barbeques.

In any event, the fax was sent, the confirmation sheet was coming out, and I was one step closer to becoming a home owner. I was getting ready to pay the dude, who was still talking on his cell phone. He interrupted his conversation to quote the price, and I suddenly became hypnotized by his tongue ring. As he continued talking, the shiny piece of silver darted to the left and to the right, and showed up in unexpected places all over his mouth. I was so lost in tracking the course of his pierced tongue that I didn't hear what he said. He noticed my confusion, wrote down the price and continued blabbering away.

In the meantime, the lady in the back finally spoke. She said "they" were going to pick her up at midnight.

I assumed "they" meant a tour group, or perhaps visiting relatives. She said she couldn't be late.

I paid the teenager, and as I was about to walk out of the store, the woman said those magic words that ring in my head to this day.

"My spaceship will be here shortly," she said. She was dead serious. There was no trace of a smile on her face - there was no hint whatsoever of a practical joke in the making.

My mouth fell open. The proprietor's tongue ring was frozen in place, finally.

Her hands immediately went to her mouth as if she could retract her words.

"I've said too much already," she exclaimed as she ran out of the store. It was 11:58.

I looked at the teenager again. He was as white as a ghost. He actually hung up the phone. I left the store with my copy of the fax and the confirmation and looked up at the night sky.

As I was driving back to my home and my version of reality, where spaceships and aliens belong to the world of science fiction, I had two questions in my mind. Did the intergalactic vessel arrive on time or was it subject to Middle Eastern customs? I also wondered if the aliens had tongues and if so, were they pierced?


— — —

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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book "Double Feature" will be published in the winter. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb.

Raising Parents

Even though we'll be paying for our daughter's Bat Mitzvah celebration until the next appearance of Halley's Comet, we loved every minute of it and wouldn't have changed a single thing. The evening was filled with words of Torah, dancing, and a special community project benefiting a children's hospital. When the evening was over, our daughter presented us with a hand-written letter. After reading her words, we are considering turning over the rest of the payments to her.

Here's what she wrote:

Dear Mom and Dad (Abba and Ima):

Thank you for an amazing Bat Mitzvah celebration. I know it was hard to follow all of my directions to coordinate the event properly. All in all, you did a pretty good job. Thanks for your cooperation and willingness to play a small but important role in the success of the celebration.

I'm proud of both of you. You've come a long way the past 12 years. I think it's very important to tell you all the great things you've done in the past to encourage your future growth. Parents need a balance between praise, guidance and discipline.

I've divided up your accomplishments into the time periods as listed below.

Birth to 4 years

I can't tell you how impressed I was with your development during these formative years. Your vocabulary, in particular, improved at an amazing rate and speed.

I remember your first few words were simple, nonsense utterances such as goo-goo, ga-ga and cutchie-cutchie. These sounds were usually accompanied by very animated facial expressions that I think you wanted me to imitate.

As you got older, you started stringing together full sentences. Although the content of your prose left something to be desired, your curiosity was growing as you asked the following questions with joy and wonder in your eyes:

Where are your eyes?

Where's your nose?

Where are your ears?

I want to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that these questions were rhetorical. I admire your curiosity and desire to understand human anatomy.

When I decided I needed a break from the house to venture off to day care, you handled your separation anxiety fairly well. I saw the tears well up in your eyes as I entered the center, but I think you got over it with a high degree of maturity for someone your respective ages.

As you got older, you started the annoying habit of saying no to me, settling limits, and making rules. I think it's cute that you were trying to usurp my role as the head of the household. I decided to play along with you and humor both of you by following your directions once in a while.

5 to 8 years

From listening to your conversations on the phone, I noticed you were learning a great deal about economics, management and child psychology. You did a good job of honoring my requests for siblings. I have found over the years that you have learned to follow directions well and have come to realize it's a good idea to pay attention to those who have more life experience than you.

9 to 11 years

Your performance was impressive while I made my way through elementary school. The number of times you embarrassed me around my teachers and peers went down significantly as time went on. You have proven to me that you are capable of behavioral changes, and for this I am eternally grateful.

Thanks for the baby sister, by the way. You really took your time with this one. I'm wondering if this was passive-aggressive behavior on your part.

It's going to be a brief six years before I go off on my own. You have some time to prepare for this, and I'm always here to help make this transition as easy as possible for you. Don't hesitate to approach me whenever you need to talk. I'm always here for you. What are oldest daughters for anyway?

Well, thanks again. I'm looking forward to great things from you. I think that when a child has high hopes for their parents, they sense these unstated expectations and do their best to meet their child's hopes. I will do my best to compliment you more often when you reach your developmental milestones.

As we enter the next four years, aim high. You can do anything you set your mind to. Just check with me first for some pointers. Keep up the good work. I love both of you.


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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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future," will be published in the spring. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb.

Hamming it up in a Jewish army

The story that you are about to read is mostly true. For security reasons, many of the facts have been changed, except for those that were fabricated.

Arriving late for your first stint of reserve duty in the Israel Defense Forces (IDF) is like showing up on the set of a foreign film without a script. Due to the flu, I missed the first three days of IDF training at which my cohorts learned about tear gas, hand grenades and mixed drinks.

Once my fever went down, I mustered up the strength to drive myself to my army base to report for active duty. After being yelled at for approximately two hours due to my tardiness and lack of color coordination, I was sent to a quaint Arab village called Abu Dis. This picturesque vacation spot is located just a stone's throw away from the Mount of Olives in East Jerusalem.

No sooner did I arrive than I was sent out on foot patrol. Our goal was to round up the usual suspects and make it back to the base by lunchtime.

Here I was, a nice Jewish boy from Texas, checking our cousins for guns, knives and pirated videos. Not 10 minutes into our excursion, I was asked to frisk some of the natives. Although they bore no resemblance to the natives I was familiar with from National Geographic, I had to jump into action.

Although I missed Frisking 101, I did spend a lot of time watching police scenes from "Hawaii 5-0," "Mod Squad" and "Sesame Street." All I had to do was replicate what I saw the overpaid actors do on television.

So I frisked two or three of the locals in the most efficient way possible. I thought I did a pretty good job. My commanding officer begged to differ. He didn't like the fact that I used my Grover imitation when I interrogated the suspects. As punishment, I was transferred out of my beloved unit and sent to an alternative army base for "special" soldiers.

As soon as I arrived at the new base in the Jordan Valley, I noticed many subtle differences between this unit and my old one. For example, after I signed the guest registry, I received a complimentary robe and pair of slippers for the sauna. My previous unit would never even think of including the slippers.

After speaking with the concierge, I checked into my bungalow. So far, I was enjoying my transfer. The only problem in this little paradise was my army issue pants. Although lovely in design and color, they were four sizes too big for me. My requests to get another pair of pants were met by deaf ears. In a Jewish country, I assumed that at least one tailor would be in my unit, but fate was not on my side in the clothing department.

I spent most of my time pulling up my pants, which had a nasty habit of gravitating toward my knees. I used a phone cord as a makeshift belt, but this solution was less than satisfactory since the cord was in use at the time.

My commanding officer, Kobi, spent quality time with each of us at the end of our busy days of self-exploration, personal growth and origami workshops. He read us bedtime stories and tucked us in our cots with encouraging words.

One night Kobi was eating sunflower seeds while he was reading to me. Because his speech was somewhat muffled, I wasn't sure if he was reading "The Hardy Boys" or "The Rise and Fall of the Roman Empire." Partly out of confusion, and partly out of my allergy to sunflower seeds, I drifted off into a deep sleep. I was told later that he put a special treat under my pillow for the morning.

Three hours later at 3:20 a.m., my REM sleep was rudely interrupted by the ear-piercing ringing of the alarm on the electrified Israeli/Jordanian fence. This alarm could mean possible terrorist infiltration, or a sudden increase in trading on NASDAQ.

I jumped out of my bed and tripped over my pants. As long as I was cursed with these pants, I would have the moral dilemma of dying of embarrassment or dying of gunshot wounds for failure to return enemy fire.

I could already picture the headlines the next morning: "Attempt to Intercept Terrorists Botched by Poorly Dressed American Immigrant."

I got up off the floor, pulled up my pants and climbed into the waiting jeep. I noticed Kobi was panicking. I tried to help him with some visualization and guided imagery, but he looked at me as if I were speaking broken Hebrew. Looking back on the event years later, I realized he was right.

After a 10-minute ride, we arrived a few feet away from the point of infiltration. Kobi ordered us to break up into small groups. Two enlisted men and Kobi headed north, and my pair of pants and I proceeded south.

We reached the location of the security breach, and confirmed that this was no false alarm. The Jewish state had in fact been infiltrated. The sovereign state of Israel's security was compromised by a 200-pound wild boar. The creature had got himself tangled in the electric fence, and was squealing like, for lack of a better metaphor, a stuck pig.

This boar was the epitome of chutzpa. He knew full well that the Jews wouldn't eat him, the Muslims wouldn't touch him, and there were no Thai workers around who would bring him home for breakfast.

With the help of an alternative veterinarian and a holistic electrician, we were able to release the creature from his trap. The behemoth was unscathed and now free to return to the Jordanian side. This newly liberated animal could now continue doing whatever it is that pigs do at three o'clock in the morning in the Middle East.

We drove back to our tent. Kobi was back to himself — relaxed, confident, and spitting sunflower shells all over me. I went back to my bungalow and fell back into a deep, sweet sleep. I felt something under my pillow, but I didn't want to peek and ruin Kobi's surprise. I would wait for the morning to see what he got for me.

When I woke up a few hours later, I found a jar of Kosher Imitation Bacon Bits under my pillow. Then to my surprise, I was greeted by journalists and camera crews from GQ, the Humane Society and Greenpeace. Maybe it was time to go back to Abu Dis.


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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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published in the spring. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb.

Annapolis parley, Texas-style

There's a rumor that most Texans believe NASA's moon missions were staged and that championship wrestling is real. I find this very offensive. We don't believe championship wrestling is real. We know it is real.

Laugh all you want, but some Texans are greater supporters of Israel than many of our fellow, post-Zionist Israelis.

Case in point. R.S. Wilbanks, a former World Wrestling Council (WWC) champion from Lubbock, Texas, is one of the most outspoken Zionists since Ze'ev Jabotinsky. He recently organized an international conference in Austin as a response to the Annapolis parley.

Concerned about Ehud Olmert's inevitable capitulation at the conference, he set up the gathering to send a clear message to the prime minister that the great state of Texas is behind him. Wilbanks feels the Texas conference will encourage Olmert to take a tough stand in Annapolis.

Since I'm the only one of the 12 Texan Jews in Israel who bothered to keep his Texan passport up to date, I was asked to cover the event. I felt it was my national duty to honor the request. Besides, it's hard to turn down a free trip to the old country and promises of kosher steaks and unlimited Coors beer on tap.

Wilbanks made his millions in the oil (pronounced AWL) business. Officials estimate that Wilbanks generates more money from just one of his Lubbock oilfields in 45 minutes than Israel's GNP has yielded in the past 10 years. He attributes his success to the consistent execution of his mission statement: You CAN solve a problem by throwing money at it.

To give the conference an international flavor, Wilbanks invited participants from across the globe. Looking around the conference room in the state capitol, I was amazed at the United Nations look and feel of the event. There were representatives in attendance from El Paso, Houston, Amarillo AND San Antonio.

The opinions expressed at the conference are not necessarily my own. I am just a humble servant of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs and a recipient of free tickets to "Austin City Limits." Like any good journalist, I just record the facts as I hear them.

Here's a summary of the deliberations:

Jerusalem
Jerusalem will remain the eternal, undivided capital of the Jewish State. You don't see us Texans dividing Austin in half and giving San Antonio back to Mexico, do you, Ehud (pronounced A-hoood)?

As you know, the Texan Embassy is, and always will be, in Jerusalem. Be a man for once, Ehud, and encourage, then threaten, the new president of the United States to move the U.S. Embassy to Jerusalem. Stop being spineless and browbeat the U.S. to follow the example of the great state of Texas.

What do you think is worrying the United States about such a move anyway? Do you think they are concerned that OPEC will raise their prices or turn off the tap if the embassy has a Jerusalem address? Who cares? Encourage the U.S. to buy oil from me. I'll let you be the broker of a mighty fine deal.

Refugees
You must insist that the starting point of this issue will be the Jewish refugees from Arab countries. They haven't received one red cent of compensation for the land confiscated from them in 1948. How about it, Ehud? Stand up for your Sephardic brothers and sisters.

Israel's borders
God wrote the Bible, I believe it, that settles it. In that there holy book, the borders of the Land of Israel are just a tad bigger than the ones they have today. Ehud, don't even think about discussing pre-1967 borders. Where's your Jewish pride? I ain't even Jewish, and I've got more feelings about the holy land than you do. You start negotiating a return to King David's borders. You heard me, boy. I'm talking about expanding the land of Israel from the Tigris to the Euphrates! I can swallow my Texas pride and live in a world where Israel is several thousand acres more expansive than my home state. Mr. Olmert, we will continue remembering the Alamo, so you start remembering Masada again, ya hear?

Teachers' strike
I know this item isn't on the Annapolis agenda, but it should be. I'll tell you what we're gonna do, Mr. Prime Minister. I'm semi-retired, and a number of my petroleum engineering buddies and their ranch hands got some time to kill. You send those teachers here to Texas, and they can run our oilfields for a few weeks. We will reward them handsomely for their efforts. My buddies and I will go to Israel and teach your high school students English diction, horseback riding, and tobacco chewing. By the time we finish our little swap, you and your union can figure out how to pay the teachers what they are worth. The future of Israel is in the hands of this generation, so do your country a favor and pay your teachers some decent money.

We live in a reality of us against them, Ehud. Don't mess with Texas or Israel. Ehud, you could learn a little bit about Texas pride and stop selling your own country and people short. If you even think of trying to turn back the tides of history for either one of the Lone Star states, you got another thing comin'. You rock the boat, and you are going to have to deal with me, R.S. Wilbanks, or my money, whichever runs out last.


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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 divides his time between his yeshiva studies and his coaching practice. His life calling is to help others understand their personal mission and accomplish it with humor, creativity and spirituality. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future," will be published in the winter. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2007 by Ben Goldfarb.

Writing your own ticket

Vilfredo Pareto was an Italian economist who coined the 80/20 rule. The Pareto principle theorizes that 80% of the income in Italy went to 20% of the population. While I'm neither Italian nor an economist, I nonetheless posit the 95/5 rule. This rule states that 95% of the human race isn't living their ideal life, while 5% of humankind has managed to write their own ticket.

Writing your own ticket means different things to different people. The problem is, many members of the human race haven't yet defined their vision of success. Many find it difficult to verbalize their ideal life, although I've seen many of them use hand puppets very effectively to illustrate their hopes, dreams, and aspirations.

Only five percent of people on this planet have financial, emotional, and spiritual independence. The rest of the population is the support cast of someone else's dream, playing a minor role, or acting as an extra, in someone else's movie. (See here)

So how does one enter the elite 5%? How can we work together to increase this minority to a higher percentage? How can we get a degree in economics over the internet?

The first step in joining the 5% is to create a detailed vision of what constitutes success, be it financial, emotional, or gastrointestinal.

To some people, success is firing your boss and becoming self-employed. To others, success is the ability to be spontaneous and get on a plane on a moment's notice. Success for you might be understanding the fine print on your insurance policy.

While companies and organizations have mission statements, five year plans, and quarterly reviews, not that many individuals do. Many human beings just float around through life waiting for opportunities to fall in their laps and feel no sense of accountability. Each year resembles the next year and the end result is a series of Groundhog years ( See here)

After you have defined the vision, the next step is to write up an action plan and then execute it.

Once this is done, go to an Italian restaurant and celebrate your success. You have taken the fist step to join the growing 5% of humankind. When you are done with the meal, send the bill to your ex-boss.

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 in the summer. 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