If your dating hasn’t led you to your life partner yet, then you might want to try a different approach. The following guidelines will help you find your soul mate.
1. Showing up
Show up on time, but come as you are. Forget about showering and finding the perfect outfit. Go ahead and arrive after working out at the gym, running, or meeting with your parole officer. When married, we usually don’t have the time to create our ideal state before getting together, so get used to it now.
2. Location
Real life isn’t about sipping coffee and eating cinnamon rolls. Try the following option for your first date.
Meet at a carpenter’s workshop. Build a bookshelf, a stereo cabinet or maybe some farming implements. Anyone can ingest food, but only a select few can construct something together without getting into a fight.
3. Conversation
Forget those meaningless discussions highlighting your good points. Instead, be brutally honest. Although I met my wife 10 years before we got married, when we started talking about tying the knot, I decided to reveal my deep, dark secrets. I didn’t want her to have any surprises during the marriage.
For example, I told her about my nasty habit of biting nails, or more specifically, biting other people’s nails.
When she didn’t balk, I showed her my picture taken immediately upon awakening in the morning. She decided to marry me anyway.
4. Timing
Call your date 10 minutes before she has a deadline or 45 minutes after he has fallen asleep. Learn how they deal with pressure or exhaustion.
5. Projects
Don’t just get together and talk. Involve yourselves in projects. Here are some ideas:
Adopt a puppy, a dysfunctional family or a third world country. See how your teamwork plays itself out.
Start a campaign to bring free meals back to the airlines or a public service project to teach diction to President Bush. Measure each other’s idealism when working on your social activism.
6. Assess character traits
Physical beauty is great, but character traits outlive our looks. Is your date kind to strangers, patient with children, and playful with DMV employees? If not, remember that magical word: Next.
7. Analyze your personality change
Does she bring out your best, your worst, or perhaps your secret desire to open up a Viking restaurant? Is this transformed person you become in her presence the one with whom you want to spend the rest of your life?
.3 Deciding
In his book, Blink, Malcolm Gladwell discusses our ability to make decisions based on instinct. While you shouldn’t agree to get married based on your gut feelings alone, steps 1-7 will help you confirm what you already intuited after the first .3 seconds of meeting your date. If your conscious and unconscious minds are on the same page, then go for it. If not, then test out your teamwork in a different third world country.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and training sessions at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book, "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published next year. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. Visit his blog at http://bengoldfarb.blogspot.com.
© Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Wednesday, May 21, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
But last year
I wasn't much of a swimmer, but for some reason, I joined the swim team anyway. I don't know what motivated me to inflict this punishment on myself. I dove into the ice cold water every weekday morning of my summer vacation at 7 o'clock. I asked myself the same question that many athletes ask during challenging times, "What am I doing out of bed?"
Our team had a meeting at the beginning of each week. We would discuss various issues such as upcoming field trips, facts and fantasies about the teams with whom we would be competing, and whether or not Mark Spitz would drop by for a surprise visit to show us his 7 gold medals.
Invariably, Molly, our "butterfly" champion, would utter her infamous phrase during these meetings. Her tonality was not unlike the sound of a hamster doing a Madonna impression.
“But last year…..”
In her 11 year old brain, she would look at current reality and compare it to a similar situation the year before. If the realities were the same, she would remain quiet.
However, if the two scenarios were different, her nervous system would send a command to her mouth to say those words in a whining voice "But last year…..”
I’m a patient guy and I have a high tolerance for pain. I can tune out annoying people and their wretched tonality.
However, our coach was different. Yelling was one of his hobbies. Anger shouldn't be managed, he reasoned, it should be cultivated.
Coach Miller used to be a truck driver, a Latin tutor and a short order cook. He was forced into early retirement because he tried to do these jobs at the same time.
He was stuck with us now. Ironically, Molly was only the subject of his wrath one time per season. He could hear Molly’s whining "but last year" the entire summer without reacting. However, when the red line was crossed, he blew up at Molly way out of proportion to her offense.
Towards the end of the season, Coach Miller started talking to us about the upcoming swim meet. We were instructed to bring our own lunches this year. He was about to explain why this was different than last year when Molly raised her hand.
We all signaled to her to put her hand down. Her best friend was begging her to be quiet.
Molly was insistent. We all braced ourselves for the fallout.
"But last year…" Molly started.
Coach Miller stopped what he was saying and looked deep into Molly’s eyes.
I could smell the chlorine rising from the pool and the faint odor of Jack Daniels on Coach Miller's breath. Someone's transistor radio was playing "Free Bird."
He clenched his fists and was about to throw his clipboard to the ground. Suddenly, his central nervous system gave him a new command. He had some kind of epiphany.
He took a deep breath and said the following. "The Good Lord didn’t bless me and my wife with our own kids. I see all of you as my own children. I love each member of this swim team like you are my own flesh and blood."
"Then why do you yell at us all the time," I asked, expecting to be thrown into the pool.
"I’m tough on you because I want to prepare you for the real world, which is a lot tougher than I am."
Coach Miller continued, "I’m not just speaking to Molly now, but I’m speaking to all of you. Just because something was done “last year” doesn’t mean it was right. It may have been the correct thing then, but not necessarily. We have to learn to think out of the box and do what’s best for us this year and next year, and not just what we did in the past."
"I admire Molly for speaking up. And I want to publicly apologize for every time I yelled at her, and for that matter, for every time I yelled at all of you."
We had never heard the coach apologize for anything.
"My yelling came from a place of love, and now I have to show how much I love you in a different way. I want to thank Molly for teaching me a great lesson."
With that statement, the coach hugged Molly. We had never seen the coach hug anyone except his wife when she picked him up after practice.
We lost the swim meet, but we had a good time. Coach Miller smiled a lot and was very encouraging. He was definitely a new man, and not like last year at all.
At the awards banquet, I received the "Most Improved Swimmer" trophy which I think was a way of thanking me for not drowning and thereby sparing the team from a nasty law suit.
Our team had a meeting at the beginning of each week. We would discuss various issues such as upcoming field trips, facts and fantasies about the teams with whom we would be competing, and whether or not Mark Spitz would drop by for a surprise visit to show us his 7 gold medals.
Invariably, Molly, our "butterfly" champion, would utter her infamous phrase during these meetings. Her tonality was not unlike the sound of a hamster doing a Madonna impression.
“But last year…..”
In her 11 year old brain, she would look at current reality and compare it to a similar situation the year before. If the realities were the same, she would remain quiet.
However, if the two scenarios were different, her nervous system would send a command to her mouth to say those words in a whining voice "But last year…..”
I’m a patient guy and I have a high tolerance for pain. I can tune out annoying people and their wretched tonality.
However, our coach was different. Yelling was one of his hobbies. Anger shouldn't be managed, he reasoned, it should be cultivated.
Coach Miller used to be a truck driver, a Latin tutor and a short order cook. He was forced into early retirement because he tried to do these jobs at the same time.
He was stuck with us now. Ironically, Molly was only the subject of his wrath one time per season. He could hear Molly’s whining "but last year" the entire summer without reacting. However, when the red line was crossed, he blew up at Molly way out of proportion to her offense.
Towards the end of the season, Coach Miller started talking to us about the upcoming swim meet. We were instructed to bring our own lunches this year. He was about to explain why this was different than last year when Molly raised her hand.
We all signaled to her to put her hand down. Her best friend was begging her to be quiet.
Molly was insistent. We all braced ourselves for the fallout.
"But last year…" Molly started.
Coach Miller stopped what he was saying and looked deep into Molly’s eyes.
I could smell the chlorine rising from the pool and the faint odor of Jack Daniels on Coach Miller's breath. Someone's transistor radio was playing "Free Bird."
He clenched his fists and was about to throw his clipboard to the ground. Suddenly, his central nervous system gave him a new command. He had some kind of epiphany.
He took a deep breath and said the following. "The Good Lord didn’t bless me and my wife with our own kids. I see all of you as my own children. I love each member of this swim team like you are my own flesh and blood."
"Then why do you yell at us all the time," I asked, expecting to be thrown into the pool.
"I’m tough on you because I want to prepare you for the real world, which is a lot tougher than I am."
Coach Miller continued, "I’m not just speaking to Molly now, but I’m speaking to all of you. Just because something was done “last year” doesn’t mean it was right. It may have been the correct thing then, but not necessarily. We have to learn to think out of the box and do what’s best for us this year and next year, and not just what we did in the past."
"I admire Molly for speaking up. And I want to publicly apologize for every time I yelled at her, and for that matter, for every time I yelled at all of you."
We had never heard the coach apologize for anything.
"My yelling came from a place of love, and now I have to show how much I love you in a different way. I want to thank Molly for teaching me a great lesson."
With that statement, the coach hugged Molly. We had never seen the coach hug anyone except his wife when she picked him up after practice.
We lost the swim meet, but we had a good time. Coach Miller smiled a lot and was very encouraging. He was definitely a new man, and not like last year at all.
At the awards banquet, I received the "Most Improved Swimmer" trophy which I think was a way of thanking me for not drowning and thereby sparing the team from a nasty law suit.
Tuesday, May 06, 2008
The 7.3 secrets of raising children
Although many kids feel they are raising their parents (http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull&cid=1192380814685), we have the ominous task of raising the next generation of hard working, moral, and table-mannered citizens.
Parenting is both the most difficult and the most rewarding profession on earth. It is riddled with a mixture of joy, sadness, and the constant worry that one of our children will end up being a game show host.
Here are the 7.3 secrets that will make raising kids easier, more effective, and relatively guilt-free.
1. Leading
Our children are going to learn by our example. If we want them to be generous, then we have to give them a generous example to follow. If we lead a healthy lifestyle, they will emulate us. Keep in mind that they will probably copy our negative character traits as well.
2. Controlling
Attempting to control our kids will be as effective as trying to drive a car while locked in the trunk. Instead of seeing ourselves as drill sergeants, we should picture ourselves as flight instructors, gently sharing our wisdom with our kids from the co-pilot seat. Although we might have to act quickly at times to prevent them from heading into a tailspin, they need to be trained to fly solo as soon as possible.
3. Motivating
All motivation boils down to self-motivation. We have to teach our kids to care enough about their lives to motivate themselves without our intervention. Despite the best of intentions, when we try to motivate our kids, our cajoling is often interpreted as tyrannical and can backfire on us.
4. Rewarding
The anticipation of a reward always works better than the threat of a punishment. This is true not only for kids, but also for adults and most circus animals.
5. Acting
If you are trying to act cool in front of your kids, I have one word of advice: don’t. They see right through attempts to dress like them and listen to their music. They have enough bad examples in their lives without us adding to them. We have to be ourselves, as nerdy as that might appear on the surface.
6. Loving
We have to teach our kids to love life. If we don't generate and receive love, we run the risk of bailing our children out of jail or hiring deprogrammers to get them out of cults.
7. Living
We have to live in the moment with our kids. They grow up faster than we can even imagine. Take the time to enjoy the pockets of eternity that we call parenting. If we blink one too many times, we will miss their entire childhood.
.3 Respecting
We can’t treat our children like sub-humans, i.e., less than a whole person and only a decimal. Even though they are smaller than us, they are human beings and have feelings. Although they might be capable of torturing their siblings in ways that even Torquemada never considered, they are nonetheless sensitive souls. While kids are supposed to honor their parents, we have an obligation to treat them with a modicum of decency, even when others aren’t looking.
These secrets are only guidelines and are not intended as a complete list. Parenting is an ongoing challenge and the rules seem to change all the time. We must enjoy our kids and do our best. And remember that there are worse things than our children hosting "Wheel of Fortune".
Parenting is both the most difficult and the most rewarding profession on earth. It is riddled with a mixture of joy, sadness, and the constant worry that one of our children will end up being a game show host.
Here are the 7.3 secrets that will make raising kids easier, more effective, and relatively guilt-free.
1. Leading
Our children are going to learn by our example. If we want them to be generous, then we have to give them a generous example to follow. If we lead a healthy lifestyle, they will emulate us. Keep in mind that they will probably copy our negative character traits as well.
2. Controlling
Attempting to control our kids will be as effective as trying to drive a car while locked in the trunk. Instead of seeing ourselves as drill sergeants, we should picture ourselves as flight instructors, gently sharing our wisdom with our kids from the co-pilot seat. Although we might have to act quickly at times to prevent them from heading into a tailspin, they need to be trained to fly solo as soon as possible.
3. Motivating
All motivation boils down to self-motivation. We have to teach our kids to care enough about their lives to motivate themselves without our intervention. Despite the best of intentions, when we try to motivate our kids, our cajoling is often interpreted as tyrannical and can backfire on us.
4. Rewarding
The anticipation of a reward always works better than the threat of a punishment. This is true not only for kids, but also for adults and most circus animals.
5. Acting
If you are trying to act cool in front of your kids, I have one word of advice: don’t. They see right through attempts to dress like them and listen to their music. They have enough bad examples in their lives without us adding to them. We have to be ourselves, as nerdy as that might appear on the surface.
6. Loving
We have to teach our kids to love life. If we don't generate and receive love, we run the risk of bailing our children out of jail or hiring deprogrammers to get them out of cults.
7. Living
We have to live in the moment with our kids. They grow up faster than we can even imagine. Take the time to enjoy the pockets of eternity that we call parenting. If we blink one too many times, we will miss their entire childhood.
.3 Respecting
We can’t treat our children like sub-humans, i.e., less than a whole person and only a decimal. Even though they are smaller than us, they are human beings and have feelings. Although they might be capable of torturing their siblings in ways that even Torquemada never considered, they are nonetheless sensitive souls. While kids are supposed to honor their parents, we have an obligation to treat them with a modicum of decency, even when others aren’t looking.
These secrets are only guidelines and are not intended as a complete list. Parenting is an ongoing challenge and the rules seem to change all the time. We must enjoy our kids and do our best. And remember that there are worse things than our children hosting "Wheel of Fortune".
Tuesday, April 29, 2008
He comes to your emotional rescue
Kevin Neil had the all the warning signs of a hijacker. Nervous affect, beady eyes, and uneven sideburns. But no airport security system in the world could detect his weapon. He was interrogated and searched by uniformed personnel and was allowed to board, even though he was indeed armed. His weapon was the uncanny ability to make everyone around him feel real bad.
You see, Kevin was an emotional terrorist. An emotional terrorist is not to be confused with a terrorist who has frequent mood swings. An emotional terrorist has the ability to manipulate the emotions of others. Using only his voice, he can terrorize his victims into a near comatose state of despair. This is not a good state to be in if you are piloting a plane.
However, Kevin picked a bad day to hijack flight 420 from San Francisco to LA. Justin Smythe, a counter emotional-terrorist expert, was on the flight. But Justin wouldn’t be the one to subdue Kevin.
Thirty minutes into the flight, Kevin stood up and grabbed the PA system from the flight attendant.
“Don’t worry. I’m not armed. I just want to make an announcement,” Kevin said.
The passengers were already starting to feel bad. Kevin had a droning voice which acted like a depression-inducing trance.
“I need to go on Oprah, and I need to do it today,” Kevin said.
All of the passengers, except for Justin, who was immune to Kevin’s manipulation, were feeling brow-beaten and passive.
One of the passengers managed to say, “Why do you want to go on Oprah?”
Because I need a larger audience to share my pain with. I’m really sorry to inconvenience you. But I must fly to Chicago. She goes live in a few hours.”
Justin stood up. “And if we disagree?”
“Who are you? And why are you smiling?” Kevin asked.
“You don’t intimidate me,” Justin said.
“I was just about to say the same thing to you. But you are too late, cowboy. Watch this.” Kevin said.
Kevin grabbed a flight attendant and began whispering something into her ear. She started crying and collapsed on the floor in a fit of desperation and misery.
“You don’t want me to do that to the pilot, do you?” Kevin asked.
All of the passengers nodded their heads from left to right and were beginning to feel much worse.
Justin said, “I bet you told the flight attendant about your high school prom, didn’t you?
Kevin answered, “Yes, but how did you know?”
“Because most of you emotional terrorists have the same sad stories, and they usually revolve around prom night.”
“What’s it to you?” Kevin asked.
"Watch this buddy," Justin said, as he ran to the flight attendant. Justin whispered something in her ear, and she started laughing uncontrollably. She stood, up, took a deep breath of air, and resumed her duties.
Kevin said, “So you told her about your silver medal in the Olympics, right?
“How’d you know?” Justin asked.
“All you counter emotional-terrorists are the same. Ex-athletes with nothing better to do than bully people like me.” Kevin said.
The passengers were on an emotional rollercoaster, first excited about Justin saving the day and then depressed at Kevin’s caustic rebuttal.
“Both of you are losers,” a 17 year-old named Darren stood up and said.
“Who are you?” Kevin asked.
"My name is Darren. I might have tattoos all over my body, and colored hair, and spend most of my time surfing, but there’s one thing I do know.”
“What’s that?” Justin asked, fearing that he would be upstaged by Darren.
"I don’t let the Kevins of the world get me down, and I don’t need Justins to cheer me up.” Darren said.
“But who makes you feel good or bad?” An elderly passenger asked.
“I chose my own feelings,” the surfer said.
The passengers were in shock. Even Kevin seemed impressed. But he had to act quickly. If Darren’s idea got popular, Kevin would be out of a job and he would never be on TV.
“Think about it people,” Darren said as he strolled up to the front of the plane. “Don’t ask what kind of mood you are in. Don’t rely on other people to choose your feelings for you. Ask yourself what mood you want to be in and then just do it.”
“But how?” Justin asked. They didn’t teach that skill in his counter emotional-terrorist course.
“It’s hard to understand if you aren’t a surfer. But trust me. It works. You just have to try,” Justin explained.
Kevin went back to his seat and started crying. Justin was a little depressed because he was made redundant by a kid. But most of the passengers were lost in thought, trying to figure out ways to choose their own emotions.
The plane landed safely a few moments later. The passengers decided not to press charges against Kevin, nor to tell Justin’s superiors that he was unable to sequester the airborne menace. But most of them did sign up with Darren for surfing lessons.
You see, Kevin was an emotional terrorist. An emotional terrorist is not to be confused with a terrorist who has frequent mood swings. An emotional terrorist has the ability to manipulate the emotions of others. Using only his voice, he can terrorize his victims into a near comatose state of despair. This is not a good state to be in if you are piloting a plane.
However, Kevin picked a bad day to hijack flight 420 from San Francisco to LA. Justin Smythe, a counter emotional-terrorist expert, was on the flight. But Justin wouldn’t be the one to subdue Kevin.
Thirty minutes into the flight, Kevin stood up and grabbed the PA system from the flight attendant.
“Don’t worry. I’m not armed. I just want to make an announcement,” Kevin said.
The passengers were already starting to feel bad. Kevin had a droning voice which acted like a depression-inducing trance.
“I need to go on Oprah, and I need to do it today,” Kevin said.
All of the passengers, except for Justin, who was immune to Kevin’s manipulation, were feeling brow-beaten and passive.
One of the passengers managed to say, “Why do you want to go on Oprah?”
Because I need a larger audience to share my pain with. I’m really sorry to inconvenience you. But I must fly to Chicago. She goes live in a few hours.”
Justin stood up. “And if we disagree?”
“Who are you? And why are you smiling?” Kevin asked.
“You don’t intimidate me,” Justin said.
“I was just about to say the same thing to you. But you are too late, cowboy. Watch this.” Kevin said.
Kevin grabbed a flight attendant and began whispering something into her ear. She started crying and collapsed on the floor in a fit of desperation and misery.
“You don’t want me to do that to the pilot, do you?” Kevin asked.
All of the passengers nodded their heads from left to right and were beginning to feel much worse.
Justin said, “I bet you told the flight attendant about your high school prom, didn’t you?
Kevin answered, “Yes, but how did you know?”
“Because most of you emotional terrorists have the same sad stories, and they usually revolve around prom night.”
“What’s it to you?” Kevin asked.
"Watch this buddy," Justin said, as he ran to the flight attendant. Justin whispered something in her ear, and she started laughing uncontrollably. She stood, up, took a deep breath of air, and resumed her duties.
Kevin said, “So you told her about your silver medal in the Olympics, right?
“How’d you know?” Justin asked.
“All you counter emotional-terrorists are the same. Ex-athletes with nothing better to do than bully people like me.” Kevin said.
The passengers were on an emotional rollercoaster, first excited about Justin saving the day and then depressed at Kevin’s caustic rebuttal.
“Both of you are losers,” a 17 year-old named Darren stood up and said.
“Who are you?” Kevin asked.
"My name is Darren. I might have tattoos all over my body, and colored hair, and spend most of my time surfing, but there’s one thing I do know.”
“What’s that?” Justin asked, fearing that he would be upstaged by Darren.
"I don’t let the Kevins of the world get me down, and I don’t need Justins to cheer me up.” Darren said.
“But who makes you feel good or bad?” An elderly passenger asked.
“I chose my own feelings,” the surfer said.
The passengers were in shock. Even Kevin seemed impressed. But he had to act quickly. If Darren’s idea got popular, Kevin would be out of a job and he would never be on TV.
“Think about it people,” Darren said as he strolled up to the front of the plane. “Don’t ask what kind of mood you are in. Don’t rely on other people to choose your feelings for you. Ask yourself what mood you want to be in and then just do it.”
“But how?” Justin asked. They didn’t teach that skill in his counter emotional-terrorist course.
“It’s hard to understand if you aren’t a surfer. But trust me. It works. You just have to try,” Justin explained.
Kevin went back to his seat and started crying. Justin was a little depressed because he was made redundant by a kid. But most of the passengers were lost in thought, trying to figure out ways to choose their own emotions.
The plane landed safely a few moments later. The passengers decided not to press charges against Kevin, nor to tell Justin’s superiors that he was unable to sequester the airborne menace. But most of them did sign up with Darren for surfing lessons.
Monday, April 14, 2008
The world’s youngest miracle worker
Karen wasn’t much different than most of her 10 year old peers. She loved rollerblading, watched "High School Musical" 1 and 2, and enjoyed outsmarting her parents whenever possible. The main difference between her and her classmates was that Karen could perform miracles.
She learned about her gift during a slumber party at her house. At midnight, Karen and her friends played a game in which Karen pretended she was a genie. Her friends asked the genie to grant their wishes.
One friend asked for a pony, another begged for her estranged parents to reunite, and the third requested a sneak preview of "High School Musical" 3, which wasn’t even in production yet. The game ended, and the girls fell asleep.
When Karen’s friends returned home, all of their dreams had materialized. One after another, they called Karen in a frenzy, telling her she was a miracle worker.
When Karen found out that her gift was real, she wanted to share this information with someone. Who could she trust implicitly with this revelation? Since she couldn't think of any logical candidates, she went ahead and told her parents.
Nigel and Janet were sympathetic and when Karen told them the news, they tried their best to avoid sounding skeptical. Karen knew that they didn’t believe her. She asked each of them to make a wish, and then they would have no choice but to take her seriously once the wishes came true.
Her parents humored her and verbalized their requests. Janet asked for a remodeled kitchen. Peter wanted a zoning permit that would allow him to open upon his garage across the street. He wanted to minimize his daily commute to work. The municipality had turned down his request for 5 years straight.
After a few minutes when neither wish materialized, Karen’s parents gently told her that she should give up her fantasy and just be happy being a normal 10 year old girl. Karen calmly informed her parents that the wishes only come true the following day. Her parents smiled and kissed her goodnight.
The next morning, Karen’s family was awoken by the doorbell at 7 am. Janet put on a bathrobe and answered the door. It was a FedEx messenger with a registered letter. She scribbled her signature and then went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Before Janet could put water in the kettle, she let out a scream that could have woken up the entire neighborhood.
Karen and Nigel ran downstairs to find out what happened to Janet. They arrived within seconds to see Janet hyperventilating in her beautifully remodeled kitchen. The room was a visual symphony of stainless steel, chrome, glass block, and Italian marble. In her panic, Jane dropped the registered letter.
Peter picked up the envelope and found the long awaited zoning permit inside.
Karen was laughing but refused to say “I told you so.”
“Karen, you can only share this gift with a few trusted people. Otherwise, we will be mobbed by people who want you to grant their wishes,” Nigel said.
But it was too late. The word was already out. Karen’s friends had told their family about the world’s youngest miracle worker. The tipping point had been reached. There was already a long line of people waiting to see Karen and get their wish.
“Since it’s a done deal, Karen, we’ve got to set up some ground rules,” Jane said.
“Like what?” Karen asked, excited to start her new job.
“Well, you can see people an hour a day after you’ve done your homework,” Jane said.
“Mom,” she pleaded. “I can save the world and you are treating me like a child.”
“You are a child, Karen.” Jane said. “You have a gift, but you can’t neglect yourself in the process.”
Karen reluctantly agreed to her parent’s restrictions.
Karen kept her reception hour 5 days a week. The lines were huge and hundreds of people had to be turned away each day. The family had to hire a full time administrator to filter through the email and fax requests that came in 24/7. Only a handful of the requests were deemed worthy of consideration.
The family had decided not to charge for this service, reasoning that this would somehow taint the gift and perhaps even cause it to vanish as quickly as it arrived.
In the meantime, Peter’s business was booming. While people were waiting to see Karen, many of them brought their cars in for a tune up or repairs in his conveniently located garage. Jane served refreshments to waiting customers and got clients for her new interior design business.
However, the situation wasn’t as pleasant for Karen. Her social life was eroding at a rapid pace. Instead of her celebrity status buttressing her popularity, it decreased it. Karen was seen as a 21st century wizard at best, or some kind of freak at worst.
As Karen was about to reach her 6th month anniversary with her gift, she asked her assistant to close shop a few minutes early. Karen was finally going to grant herself a wish for a change.
Her wish was two-fold. The first part was to release herself from her magical powers.
Before she continued to the second part of the wish, she was immediately flooded with guilt. Was she being selfish in wanted to rid herself of her gift? Shouldn’t she be using her magic to create world peace and fight hunger, crime and disease?
So what if she had no friends. That would be the price she would have to pay in order to create a better world.
Karen then reminded herself that her gift was only the ability to grant wishes for what people wanted. Most of her clients’ requests were for material things such as money, cars and instant plastic surgery.
If enough people wanted world peace, then there would be world peace, she reasoned. We haven’t fed the starving people in the world because not enough people desire that outcome yet.
With a clear conscience, Karen asked for the second half of the wish. Her desire was that humanity would be granted the wisdom to want the correct things. She wanted the world’s population to pine for the elements that would edify humanity, and not just satisfy their selfish needs.
As she felt the magic leave her soul, she wondered how long it would take for the global tipping point to take place.
-- -- --
{italic}{bold}Ben Goldfarb{/bold}was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book {italic} Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future{/italic} will be published in the spring. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the {url http://pdshiftcoaching.com/} Paradigm Shift Communications{/url}website, or send an email to {email ben@pdshiftcoaching.com}ben@pdshiftcoaching.com{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb{/italic}
She learned about her gift during a slumber party at her house. At midnight, Karen and her friends played a game in which Karen pretended she was a genie. Her friends asked the genie to grant their wishes.
One friend asked for a pony, another begged for her estranged parents to reunite, and the third requested a sneak preview of "High School Musical" 3, which wasn’t even in production yet. The game ended, and the girls fell asleep.
When Karen’s friends returned home, all of their dreams had materialized. One after another, they called Karen in a frenzy, telling her she was a miracle worker.
When Karen found out that her gift was real, she wanted to share this information with someone. Who could she trust implicitly with this revelation? Since she couldn't think of any logical candidates, she went ahead and told her parents.
Nigel and Janet were sympathetic and when Karen told them the news, they tried their best to avoid sounding skeptical. Karen knew that they didn’t believe her. She asked each of them to make a wish, and then they would have no choice but to take her seriously once the wishes came true.
Her parents humored her and verbalized their requests. Janet asked for a remodeled kitchen. Peter wanted a zoning permit that would allow him to open upon his garage across the street. He wanted to minimize his daily commute to work. The municipality had turned down his request for 5 years straight.
After a few minutes when neither wish materialized, Karen’s parents gently told her that she should give up her fantasy and just be happy being a normal 10 year old girl. Karen calmly informed her parents that the wishes only come true the following day. Her parents smiled and kissed her goodnight.
The next morning, Karen’s family was awoken by the doorbell at 7 am. Janet put on a bathrobe and answered the door. It was a FedEx messenger with a registered letter. She scribbled her signature and then went to the kitchen for a cup of coffee. Before Janet could put water in the kettle, she let out a scream that could have woken up the entire neighborhood.
Karen and Nigel ran downstairs to find out what happened to Janet. They arrived within seconds to see Janet hyperventilating in her beautifully remodeled kitchen. The room was a visual symphony of stainless steel, chrome, glass block, and Italian marble. In her panic, Jane dropped the registered letter.
Peter picked up the envelope and found the long awaited zoning permit inside.
Karen was laughing but refused to say “I told you so.”
“Karen, you can only share this gift with a few trusted people. Otherwise, we will be mobbed by people who want you to grant their wishes,” Nigel said.
But it was too late. The word was already out. Karen’s friends had told their family about the world’s youngest miracle worker. The tipping point had been reached. There was already a long line of people waiting to see Karen and get their wish.
“Since it’s a done deal, Karen, we’ve got to set up some ground rules,” Jane said.
“Like what?” Karen asked, excited to start her new job.
“Well, you can see people an hour a day after you’ve done your homework,” Jane said.
“Mom,” she pleaded. “I can save the world and you are treating me like a child.”
“You are a child, Karen.” Jane said. “You have a gift, but you can’t neglect yourself in the process.”
Karen reluctantly agreed to her parent’s restrictions.
Karen kept her reception hour 5 days a week. The lines were huge and hundreds of people had to be turned away each day. The family had to hire a full time administrator to filter through the email and fax requests that came in 24/7. Only a handful of the requests were deemed worthy of consideration.
The family had decided not to charge for this service, reasoning that this would somehow taint the gift and perhaps even cause it to vanish as quickly as it arrived.
In the meantime, Peter’s business was booming. While people were waiting to see Karen, many of them brought their cars in for a tune up or repairs in his conveniently located garage. Jane served refreshments to waiting customers and got clients for her new interior design business.
However, the situation wasn’t as pleasant for Karen. Her social life was eroding at a rapid pace. Instead of her celebrity status buttressing her popularity, it decreased it. Karen was seen as a 21st century wizard at best, or some kind of freak at worst.
As Karen was about to reach her 6th month anniversary with her gift, she asked her assistant to close shop a few minutes early. Karen was finally going to grant herself a wish for a change.
Her wish was two-fold. The first part was to release herself from her magical powers.
Before she continued to the second part of the wish, she was immediately flooded with guilt. Was she being selfish in wanted to rid herself of her gift? Shouldn’t she be using her magic to create world peace and fight hunger, crime and disease?
So what if she had no friends. That would be the price she would have to pay in order to create a better world.
Karen then reminded herself that her gift was only the ability to grant wishes for what people wanted. Most of her clients’ requests were for material things such as money, cars and instant plastic surgery.
If enough people wanted world peace, then there would be world peace, she reasoned. We haven’t fed the starving people in the world because not enough people desire that outcome yet.
With a clear conscience, Karen asked for the second half of the wish. Her desire was that humanity would be granted the wisdom to want the correct things. She wanted the world’s population to pine for the elements that would edify humanity, and not just satisfy their selfish needs.
As she felt the magic leave her soul, she wondered how long it would take for the global tipping point to take place.
-- -- --
{italic}{bold}Ben Goldfarb{/bold}was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book {italic} Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future{/italic} will be published in the spring. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the {url http://pdshiftcoaching.com/} Paradigm Shift Communications{/url}website, or send an email to {email ben@pdshiftcoaching.com}ben@pdshiftcoaching.com{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb{/italic}
Wednesday, April 09, 2008
The 7.3 magical rules for a happy marriage
The following rules will make a challenged marriage good, a good marriage better, and if we are lucky, put divorce lawyers out of business.
1. Dating
Most experts and laypeople agree that it’s a good idea to stop dating right after your engagement. Studies have shown that dating while engaged or married can lead to some minor misunderstandings and should be avoided at all costs.
2. Metaphors
Select a metaphor that best defines your marriage. Some couples see themselves as co-pilots on a transatlantic journey. Others view themselves as vice presidents of a corporation. I met a couple recently who sees their marriage as an intricate game involving Nerf ™ balls, spatulas, and mosquito netting.
3. Create a joint mission statement
Companies and non-profit organizations are encouraged to create and maintain mission statements. Married couples can benefit from this same advice. Keep the mission statement short, to the point, and write it in a language that neither one of you understands. One of the tricks of a happy marriage is being artfully vague whenever possible.
4. Job descriptions
I’m a big advocate of romance in marriage. (See number 5.) However, we can learn from corporate America how to set the stage for a good marriage. (See http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?cid=1198517273463&pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull). Write up your job descriptions so that each of you knows what is expected from the other. This can include household chores, financial obligations and taking turns being emotionally strong, weak, or domineering.
5. Romance
Go out once a week for some fun and romance. You are not allowed to talk about money during these outings. Shopping for mundane items before, during, or after the event is strictly forbidden. Divide up the conversation fairly. For example, when my wife and I go out, I spend the first half of dinner discussing my hopes, dreams and aspirations. During the second half of the meal, my wife gives me her feedback about what I said.
6. Five-year plans
Write a joint five-year plan. Set your financial, spiritual, emotional, and entertainment goals. Evaluate your progress each quarter. Reward yourself for each success and brutally punish yourself for every failure.
7. Tupperware ™
Buy lots of Tupperware ™. I have no vested interest in Tupperware ™, nor do I plan on becoming a distributor. I’ve never even been to a Tupperware ™ party, although I’ve heard they can get pretty wild. However, Tupperware ™ products maintain the “cook and freeze” lifestyle that might contribute more to marital bliss than any other single factor.
“.3”
While we are striving to be “one” in our relationships, no one can underestimate the importance of temporarily diminishing yourself in relation to your spouse. You and your significant other can takes turns being the decimal in the relationship. This will not only teach you humility, it will help you brush up on your math skills.
Don’t worry if you didn’t have a chance to put these rules into effect from the beginning of your marriage. You can start at anytime. I’ve seen marriages improve miraculously by applying these 7.3 rules. I’ve also heard about a couple who not only upgraded their marriage by internalizing these lessons, but is now lobbying in Beijing to include their Nerf ™ ball event in the next Olympics.
1. Dating
Most experts and laypeople agree that it’s a good idea to stop dating right after your engagement. Studies have shown that dating while engaged or married can lead to some minor misunderstandings and should be avoided at all costs.
2. Metaphors
Select a metaphor that best defines your marriage. Some couples see themselves as co-pilots on a transatlantic journey. Others view themselves as vice presidents of a corporation. I met a couple recently who sees their marriage as an intricate game involving Nerf ™ balls, spatulas, and mosquito netting.
3. Create a joint mission statement
Companies and non-profit organizations are encouraged to create and maintain mission statements. Married couples can benefit from this same advice. Keep the mission statement short, to the point, and write it in a language that neither one of you understands. One of the tricks of a happy marriage is being artfully vague whenever possible.
4. Job descriptions
I’m a big advocate of romance in marriage. (See number 5.) However, we can learn from corporate America how to set the stage for a good marriage. (See http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?cid=1198517273463&pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull). Write up your job descriptions so that each of you knows what is expected from the other. This can include household chores, financial obligations and taking turns being emotionally strong, weak, or domineering.
5. Romance
Go out once a week for some fun and romance. You are not allowed to talk about money during these outings. Shopping for mundane items before, during, or after the event is strictly forbidden. Divide up the conversation fairly. For example, when my wife and I go out, I spend the first half of dinner discussing my hopes, dreams and aspirations. During the second half of the meal, my wife gives me her feedback about what I said.
6. Five-year plans
Write a joint five-year plan. Set your financial, spiritual, emotional, and entertainment goals. Evaluate your progress each quarter. Reward yourself for each success and brutally punish yourself for every failure.
7. Tupperware ™
Buy lots of Tupperware ™. I have no vested interest in Tupperware ™, nor do I plan on becoming a distributor. I’ve never even been to a Tupperware ™ party, although I’ve heard they can get pretty wild. However, Tupperware ™ products maintain the “cook and freeze” lifestyle that might contribute more to marital bliss than any other single factor.
“.3”
While we are striving to be “one” in our relationships, no one can underestimate the importance of temporarily diminishing yourself in relation to your spouse. You and your significant other can takes turns being the decimal in the relationship. This will not only teach you humility, it will help you brush up on your math skills.
Don’t worry if you didn’t have a chance to put these rules into effect from the beginning of your marriage. You can start at anytime. I’ve seen marriages improve miraculously by applying these 7.3 rules. I’ve also heard about a couple who not only upgraded their marriage by internalizing these lessons, but is now lobbying in Beijing to include their Nerf ™ ball event in the next Olympics.
Monday, March 31, 2008
Return of the Life Auditor
Many of us have audited courses in university, and some of us have been audited by the IRS. However, there’s only one documented case of a person auditing other people’s lives. That person is Henry Wilbanks, class of "07".
A senior at USC, Henry Wilbanks changed majors a record 25 times. And that was just during freshman orientation. His academic advisor, Mr. Tanner, was running out of advice for this wayward student. He was about to give up on Henry when he decided to send him to the controversial dean of the Parapsychology Department, otherwise known as the Department of Last Resort.
Henry walked into Professor Sine's laboratory. It looked like a cross between an Intensive Care Unit and a Polish dentist office. Henry handed Mr. Tanner's note to the professor. As the professor read Tanner's scribbled handwriting, his brow furrowed and his mustache drooped in perfect synchronization.
The professor told Henry that he could volunteer to join an astral projection experiment and receive course credit. Looking for any excuse to get out of studying for his finals, Henry readily agreed. He signed release forms and promised not to mention the experiment to anyone over the age of 8.
"Your life force is going to enter different people of your choosing. Your body will remain in our care here in the lab. This will give you a chance to get first hand experience about different professions and lifestyles."
"You think this will help me decide what I want to be when I grow up?
"We hope so. You will experience a kind of reincarnation without having to die first, a transmigration of your soul, so to speak, with a 30-day escape clause."
"What's that mean?"
"You have 30 days to decide if you want to remain in any particular body permanently, or return to yourself.”
The goal was for Henry to try two or three lifestyles, return to himself, and then be motivated to select a major, graduate, and get a life. However, Henry loved the variety and excitement of life auditing so much that he refused to return to himself and he kept jumping from person to person.
Being a master of indecision, Henry spent three years auditing over 400 lives. He had lived in 39 counties, trying his hand at banking, film directing, and gourmet cooking. He was a CIA agent, a fireman, and even an academic advisor.
Just when he came close to choosing a life to permanently audit or returning to himself, he changed his mind at the last minute. At this rate, Henry was going to end up as a career life auditor.
That was destined to change when Henry woke up one morning in the body of the happiest person he had encountered so far.
In audit number 402, Henry found himself as the father of 8 in an Italian neighborhood in the Bronx. From his surroundings, he could tell his host was lower middle-class, rich in consumer debt, but incredibly happy nonetheless.
In his newest persona, he felt satisfaction, a sense of accomplishment and a quiet pride that required no publicity or fanfare.
Henry had woken up in castles, presidential suites, native huts, and once due to a technical error, in a dog kennel. But something was different about this new life.
His wife called him Antonio. Her voice resonated like an opera singer when she spoke to him. Her blue eyes danced with love when she looked at him. His children, whose ages ranged from a newborn to a senior in high school, waited on him hand and foot as he got ready for work.
Maybe I’ll just be Antonio for the rest of my life, Henry thought. I’ve had money and power, but I’ve never tasted this degree of happiness. Henry wondered what the secret was to Antonio’s contentment.
However, Henry’s other voice kicked in telling him to be careful. He reminded himself that once he made a decision, it was irreversible. Once he chose a new life, he could never go back to himself. After three years of life auditing, Henry was beginning to think he might have a slight problem with making commitments.
After a quick breakfast, Antonio/Henry drove his oldest child to school, and then went to work. He never had a problem navigating within his new lives, because he was just an appendage to an existing life, an additional soul hitching a ride in a self-sustaining creature. He had access to all of the stored memories, instincts, and responses of the host organism, who remained passive during the 30 day visit.
Everyone seemed happy to see Antonio as he walked from his parking space to his company. Why was he so popular? Maybe he was a closet philanthropist who himself lived modestly to hide his wealth. Perhaps he was natural healer or a miracle worker.
When he showed up at his company, Antonio/Henry was almost mobbed by his appreciative employees. This brought back very recent memories of being a rock star. Henry was Bruce Springsteen for 10 days on two different occasions. The "Boss" was the only personality he audited twice.
Antonio/Henry noticed that each employee in his company had either a physical or mental challenge or was a social outcast of one type or another. When he made it past the cheering crowds to his desk, he looked through the employee files. His work force included ex-convicts, recovering alcoholics, escaped cult members and even a former lawyer. Antonio hired people whom no one else would even interview. These employees were filled with gratitude towards Antonio and worked hard to show their appreciation.
Antonio/Henry thumbed through some spreadsheets and saw why Antonio wasn’t a rich man. The company, which was a modest textile outfit, barely broke even each year. Any profits that were made were reinvested in the company or in treatment programs for the employees.
Henry made up his mind. He wanted to remain in Antonio’s body permanently. Antonio was more than Henry could ever become on his own. Henry recited the official incantation that Professor Sine taught him.
“I am now one with Antonio. Antonio and I will now share the same body and life. He will now have two life forces, and I will not interfere with his life. I will only enrich it. Antonio will always have the power of veto over any of my decisions. “
Just then Professor Sine appeared.
“Congratulations, Henry, on finally making a decision. I’m proud of you,” the professor said.
“Thanks Professor.” Antonio/Henry answered.
“However, I can’t let you become Antonio.”
“Why not? Those were the rules.”
“I lied”
“That’s comforting. What else did you lie about?”
“That’s it. Just one untruth. And it’s for your own good.” Sine said.
“Yeah, go ahead, tell me how you are saving me from myself,” Henry said, expecting the professor to echo Mr. Tanner's non-stop lectures.
“Now that you finally saw a life that you respect, a life where you can give to others and be happy as a result of it, it’s now your job to return to Henry and use Antonio as a role model.”
“But, how?”
“You’ve learned from over 400 experts. You have more stored knowledge about life and business strategies than most people can acquire in a lifetime. You can go back to Henry, and do an even better job than Antonio can.”
“But, Professor, I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“You are ready.” With that statement, the professor left Antonio’s/Henry’s office just as quickly as he arrived. Antonio/Henry ran after him, but he couldn’t find him anywhere.
Antonio/Henry returned to his office, put his head on his desk and fell asleep. When he woke up, Henry was back at USC in the parapsychology lab.
Henry got out of bed, disoriented with his reunion with his original body. His head was spinning with memories of hundreds of short but intense relationships he had started and stopped with virtual families, employees, and bosses. He felt a sense of loss and longing.
He quickly left this reverie. There was no time to get sentimental or nostalgic about the past three years of life auditing. He had work to do.
Henry was excited about his new career path. He would start a company just like Antonio’s, but he would go global within a few years. For the first time in his life, Henry felt happy and he was imbued with a sense of purpose and mission. However, the happiness he felt was emanating from the prism of his own soul, and not from Antonio’s or any of the other hundreds of souls he audited.
He would take the first steps to start his company today, right after he had his teeth cleaned.
A senior at USC, Henry Wilbanks changed majors a record 25 times. And that was just during freshman orientation. His academic advisor, Mr. Tanner, was running out of advice for this wayward student. He was about to give up on Henry when he decided to send him to the controversial dean of the Parapsychology Department, otherwise known as the Department of Last Resort.
Henry walked into Professor Sine's laboratory. It looked like a cross between an Intensive Care Unit and a Polish dentist office. Henry handed Mr. Tanner's note to the professor. As the professor read Tanner's scribbled handwriting, his brow furrowed and his mustache drooped in perfect synchronization.
The professor told Henry that he could volunteer to join an astral projection experiment and receive course credit. Looking for any excuse to get out of studying for his finals, Henry readily agreed. He signed release forms and promised not to mention the experiment to anyone over the age of 8.
"Your life force is going to enter different people of your choosing. Your body will remain in our care here in the lab. This will give you a chance to get first hand experience about different professions and lifestyles."
"You think this will help me decide what I want to be when I grow up?
"We hope so. You will experience a kind of reincarnation without having to die first, a transmigration of your soul, so to speak, with a 30-day escape clause."
"What's that mean?"
"You have 30 days to decide if you want to remain in any particular body permanently, or return to yourself.”
The goal was for Henry to try two or three lifestyles, return to himself, and then be motivated to select a major, graduate, and get a life. However, Henry loved the variety and excitement of life auditing so much that he refused to return to himself and he kept jumping from person to person.
Being a master of indecision, Henry spent three years auditing over 400 lives. He had lived in 39 counties, trying his hand at banking, film directing, and gourmet cooking. He was a CIA agent, a fireman, and even an academic advisor.
Just when he came close to choosing a life to permanently audit or returning to himself, he changed his mind at the last minute. At this rate, Henry was going to end up as a career life auditor.
That was destined to change when Henry woke up one morning in the body of the happiest person he had encountered so far.
In audit number 402, Henry found himself as the father of 8 in an Italian neighborhood in the Bronx. From his surroundings, he could tell his host was lower middle-class, rich in consumer debt, but incredibly happy nonetheless.
In his newest persona, he felt satisfaction, a sense of accomplishment and a quiet pride that required no publicity or fanfare.
Henry had woken up in castles, presidential suites, native huts, and once due to a technical error, in a dog kennel. But something was different about this new life.
His wife called him Antonio. Her voice resonated like an opera singer when she spoke to him. Her blue eyes danced with love when she looked at him. His children, whose ages ranged from a newborn to a senior in high school, waited on him hand and foot as he got ready for work.
Maybe I’ll just be Antonio for the rest of my life, Henry thought. I’ve had money and power, but I’ve never tasted this degree of happiness. Henry wondered what the secret was to Antonio’s contentment.
However, Henry’s other voice kicked in telling him to be careful. He reminded himself that once he made a decision, it was irreversible. Once he chose a new life, he could never go back to himself. After three years of life auditing, Henry was beginning to think he might have a slight problem with making commitments.
After a quick breakfast, Antonio/Henry drove his oldest child to school, and then went to work. He never had a problem navigating within his new lives, because he was just an appendage to an existing life, an additional soul hitching a ride in a self-sustaining creature. He had access to all of the stored memories, instincts, and responses of the host organism, who remained passive during the 30 day visit.
Everyone seemed happy to see Antonio as he walked from his parking space to his company. Why was he so popular? Maybe he was a closet philanthropist who himself lived modestly to hide his wealth. Perhaps he was natural healer or a miracle worker.
When he showed up at his company, Antonio/Henry was almost mobbed by his appreciative employees. This brought back very recent memories of being a rock star. Henry was Bruce Springsteen for 10 days on two different occasions. The "Boss" was the only personality he audited twice.
Antonio/Henry noticed that each employee in his company had either a physical or mental challenge or was a social outcast of one type or another. When he made it past the cheering crowds to his desk, he looked through the employee files. His work force included ex-convicts, recovering alcoholics, escaped cult members and even a former lawyer. Antonio hired people whom no one else would even interview. These employees were filled with gratitude towards Antonio and worked hard to show their appreciation.
Antonio/Henry thumbed through some spreadsheets and saw why Antonio wasn’t a rich man. The company, which was a modest textile outfit, barely broke even each year. Any profits that were made were reinvested in the company or in treatment programs for the employees.
Henry made up his mind. He wanted to remain in Antonio’s body permanently. Antonio was more than Henry could ever become on his own. Henry recited the official incantation that Professor Sine taught him.
“I am now one with Antonio. Antonio and I will now share the same body and life. He will now have two life forces, and I will not interfere with his life. I will only enrich it. Antonio will always have the power of veto over any of my decisions. “
Just then Professor Sine appeared.
“Congratulations, Henry, on finally making a decision. I’m proud of you,” the professor said.
“Thanks Professor.” Antonio/Henry answered.
“However, I can’t let you become Antonio.”
“Why not? Those were the rules.”
“I lied”
“That’s comforting. What else did you lie about?”
“That’s it. Just one untruth. And it’s for your own good.” Sine said.
“Yeah, go ahead, tell me how you are saving me from myself,” Henry said, expecting the professor to echo Mr. Tanner's non-stop lectures.
“Now that you finally saw a life that you respect, a life where you can give to others and be happy as a result of it, it’s now your job to return to Henry and use Antonio as a role model.”
“But, how?”
“You’ve learned from over 400 experts. You have more stored knowledge about life and business strategies than most people can acquire in a lifetime. You can go back to Henry, and do an even better job than Antonio can.”
“But, Professor, I’m not sure I’m ready.”
“You are ready.” With that statement, the professor left Antonio’s/Henry’s office just as quickly as he arrived. Antonio/Henry ran after him, but he couldn’t find him anywhere.
Antonio/Henry returned to his office, put his head on his desk and fell asleep. When he woke up, Henry was back at USC in the parapsychology lab.
Henry got out of bed, disoriented with his reunion with his original body. His head was spinning with memories of hundreds of short but intense relationships he had started and stopped with virtual families, employees, and bosses. He felt a sense of loss and longing.
He quickly left this reverie. There was no time to get sentimental or nostalgic about the past three years of life auditing. He had work to do.
Henry was excited about his new career path. He would start a company just like Antonio’s, but he would go global within a few years. For the first time in his life, Henry felt happy and he was imbued with a sense of purpose and mission. However, the happiness he felt was emanating from the prism of his own soul, and not from Antonio’s or any of the other hundreds of souls he audited.
He would take the first steps to start his company today, right after he had his teeth cleaned.
Wednesday, March 26, 2008
Do not read this column unless you have ADD/ADHD
You are not allowed to read this column unless you have ADD/ADHD. This column will read like a scattered, senseless, rambling piece of unrelated words unless you are one of us. It will confuse you so don’t bother reading it. If you have ADD/ADHD, this article will make perfect sense to you.
NOTE: If you read this without a letter from your doctor confirming your ADD/ADHD diagnosis or a notarized copy of your Ritalin prescription, we will hunt you down and force you to listen to hours of our mindless, multiple-streams of consciousness. We are not joking. We have ways of monitoring your online habits and enforcing this restriction.
I want to talk about communication in general, and words in particular. Words are one of the least effective means of communication we have, but we are stuck with them, aren’t we? Before I speak to myself or to others, (yes, I speak to myself and I’m proud of it), I ask myself the following question: Do my clothes match? Actually, my wife asks me that question before she lets me out of the house in the morning. In partial seriousness, I challenge myself to find the deeper meaning of words.
Words are misleading at best, dangerous at worst. We’ve all heard the expression “A picture is worth a thousand words.” Richard Bandler, the eccentric co-creator of Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP) is fond of saying a “word is worth a thousand pictures.”
You don’t have to take Bandler seriously if you don’t want to. He doesn’t even take himself seriously. He’s been known to entertain guests who were expecting to go out for Sushi to a bait shop. While the typical San Francisco bait shop lacks the ambiance of most sushi bars, the prices are more reasonable and the menu is basically the same as Japanese fare.
In any event, words often create more confusion than clarity because they trigger different pictures in each listener’s head. In linguistics, they call this surface and deep structure. This is a fancy version of Mad magazine’s, “What they say and what they really mean.”
We will divide up communication into a few categories: advertising, the work world, and interpersonal communication. We will then give a few examples of what we mean by deep and surface structure.
Advertising
What they say:
Buy our fun size candy bars.
What they really mean:
I don’t know about you, but fun size doesn’t mean the size of a postage stamp. Fun size is a chocolate treat the size of a dump truck. But if you buy enough of these miniscule poison pellets, you’ll end up spending more money than if you purchased the normal size bars.
What they say:
Try our new and improved home heating units.
What they really mean:
Our new units won’t asphyxiate you like our old ones did.
In the work world
What the boss says:
You are a lazy, incompetent bum. Please take your pink slip which is proudly displayed on the bulletin board in the employee cafeteria. Two security guards will accompany you out of the premises. Now.
What she really means:
You are an invaluable asset to our company. Don’t expect to take over my job so quickly, but I would like to give you a raise and a company car and promote you as my personal assistant.
What you say to yourself at work:
I love my job. I’m so thankful to have work and steady paycheck. I’m so lucky.
What you really mean:
The money is nice…but get me out of the sweatshop before I go insane.
Interpersonal communications
What your wife says:
You are such a typical guy. Look at that mess you are leaving for me to clean up. You are so insensitive.
What she really means:
You are the greatest man in the world. Our marriage is like a fine wine that improves with age. If I were any happier living with you, I’d have to be medicated.
What you say to your wife:
I’m not going to give you any solutions now. I’m just going to listen to what you are saying and let you know that I understand what you are going through.
What you really mean:
You have three more seconds to express your feelings and then I’m going to give you a solution whether you like it or not.
Take a few minutes to understand the deeper meaning of the words you hear and say. Enjoy your new interpretations of what words really mean. Don’t be fooled by surface structure and comments people might make about the way you dress. There is a deep message being communicated by wearing horizontal and vertical stripes that mere words cannot convey.
-- -- --
{italic}Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book {italic} Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future{/italic} will be published in the spring. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the {url http://pdshiftcoaching.com/} Paradigm Shift Communications{/url}website, or send an email to {email ben@pdshiftcoaching.com}ben@pdshiftcoaching.com{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb{/italic}
NOTE: If you read this without a letter from your doctor confirming your ADD/ADHD diagnosis or a notarized copy of your Ritalin prescription, we will hunt you down and force you to listen to hours of our mindless, multiple-streams of consciousness. We are not joking. We have ways of monitoring your online habits and enforcing this restriction.
I want to talk about communication in general, and words in particular. Words are one of the least effective means of communication we have, but we are stuck with them, aren’t we? Before I speak to myself or to others, (yes, I speak to myself and I’m proud of it), I ask myself the following question: Do my clothes match? Actually, my wife asks me that question before she lets me out of the house in the morning. In partial seriousness, I challenge myself to find the deeper meaning of words.
Words are misleading at best, dangerous at worst. We’ve all heard the expression “A picture is worth a thousand words.” Richard Bandler, the eccentric co-creator of Neuro-Linguistic Programming (NLP) is fond of saying a “word is worth a thousand pictures.”
You don’t have to take Bandler seriously if you don’t want to. He doesn’t even take himself seriously. He’s been known to entertain guests who were expecting to go out for Sushi to a bait shop. While the typical San Francisco bait shop lacks the ambiance of most sushi bars, the prices are more reasonable and the menu is basically the same as Japanese fare.
In any event, words often create more confusion than clarity because they trigger different pictures in each listener’s head. In linguistics, they call this surface and deep structure. This is a fancy version of Mad magazine’s, “What they say and what they really mean.”
We will divide up communication into a few categories: advertising, the work world, and interpersonal communication. We will then give a few examples of what we mean by deep and surface structure.
Advertising
What they say:
Buy our fun size candy bars.
What they really mean:
I don’t know about you, but fun size doesn’t mean the size of a postage stamp. Fun size is a chocolate treat the size of a dump truck. But if you buy enough of these miniscule poison pellets, you’ll end up spending more money than if you purchased the normal size bars.
What they say:
Try our new and improved home heating units.
What they really mean:
Our new units won’t asphyxiate you like our old ones did.
In the work world
What the boss says:
You are a lazy, incompetent bum. Please take your pink slip which is proudly displayed on the bulletin board in the employee cafeteria. Two security guards will accompany you out of the premises. Now.
What she really means:
You are an invaluable asset to our company. Don’t expect to take over my job so quickly, but I would like to give you a raise and a company car and promote you as my personal assistant.
What you say to yourself at work:
I love my job. I’m so thankful to have work and steady paycheck. I’m so lucky.
What you really mean:
The money is nice…but get me out of the sweatshop before I go insane.
Interpersonal communications
What your wife says:
You are such a typical guy. Look at that mess you are leaving for me to clean up. You are so insensitive.
What she really means:
You are the greatest man in the world. Our marriage is like a fine wine that improves with age. If I were any happier living with you, I’d have to be medicated.
What you say to your wife:
I’m not going to give you any solutions now. I’m just going to listen to what you are saying and let you know that I understand what you are going through.
What you really mean:
You have three more seconds to express your feelings and then I’m going to give you a solution whether you like it or not.
Take a few minutes to understand the deeper meaning of the words you hear and say. Enjoy your new interpretations of what words really mean. Don’t be fooled by surface structure and comments people might make about the way you dress. There is a deep message being communicated by wearing horizontal and vertical stripes that mere words cannot convey.
-- -- --
{italic}Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book {italic} Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future{/italic} will be published in the spring. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the {url http://pdshiftcoaching.com/} Paradigm Shift Communications{/url}website, or send an email to {email ben@pdshiftcoaching.com}ben@pdshiftcoaching.com{/email}. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb{/italic}
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Purim Post: Feel the fear and hide under the table
Guest Commentary: Velvel Goldfarb
f the coaching industry continues to grow at its present rate, pretty soon there will be more coaches than coachees. Once that happens, then maybe my workaholic twin brother, Ben, will be like me and out of a job.
Allow me to introduce myself. I'm the life coach's "evil" twin brother Velvel. The under-achiever, believe it or not, is going to be a coach too. For the record, I'm committed to becoming one of the smallest, if not the smallest, coaching companies on the planet.
Why do I say I'm going to be small? Because I don't see the point of thinking big. I plan to service 2 or 3 clients at the most. If I set my sights low, I won't be disappointed.
Speaking of happy, I'm content just the way I am. Bro', just be happy with who you are and get over it. Forget ambition and motivation. Stagnation can be fun. I've been doing it since grade school, and I've elevated it to an art form.
Ben likes to say he is the opposite of a judge. A judge sentences people to prison, and Ben claims his company helps you escape from jail. If you read Kierkegaard, Ben, you would know that life isn't "Either/Or". Life presents a plethora of choices. My metaphor for coaching is teaching clients how to decorate their prison cells while they are doing 10-20 years.
I'm having a great time hopping from one colorful Amsterdam coffee house to another. I've got no family, no mortgage, and no worries. I get a buzz right after I wake up and my morning continues just fine. Before you know it, the A.M. bleeds into the afternoon, and then happy hour rears its delightful head. At the end of the day, I believe I have as many happy moments as my goodie-goodie brother does "helping" his clients.
Indulge me for a few moments as I take his little Paradigm Shift rules of thumb and put a Velvel spin on them.
The quality of our life is the quality of our thoughts
Wrong. It's the quantity of our thoughts that count. You claim we have 70,000 thoughts a day. Don't change the content of your thoughts, like Ben suggests, but rather just think less. When I find myself thinking too much, I play the Buddha of the bar and stop conscious activity all together. I stare at the bowl of pretzels and enter nirvana. The number of my thoughts dwindles down to 2 or 3 before I pass out.
Think big and write down your goals
Nah. That's just setting yourself up for failure and disappointment. "Aim low", I always say. As I read somewhere, "no pain, no pain".
Install an internal GPS system and set the coordinates
Ben says this to his clients all the time, and I'm the one who is supposed to be on drugs.
I'm not anti-Ritalin, I'm pro-ADD
First of all, Ritalin is great fun, especially if you mix it with a few Rum and Cokes. By calling ADD a gift and succeeding despite it, you are losing a great opportunity to blame ADD for your problems, which brings me to my next point.
Stop playing victim and take responsibility
You may disagree, but I was victimized. I could've been a contender. They didn't have to kick me out of school. They didn't have to stop me from auditing courses at UT. It is their fault. It is my parent's fault. It is the weather's fault. It's your fault, Benny boy.
Feel the fear and do it anyway
I say, feel the fear and hide under the table. It's dangerous out there, especially if they run out of vodka.
It's never too late to have a happy childhood-Richard Bandler/Tom Robbins
How can you even quote this nonsense? The past might be over, but with some hard work, I can allow it to haunt me the rest of my life. You go ahead and get nostalgic about your future, Ben. I prefer to live in the real world.
So, brother dearest, look out for your competition. I'm going to be a minor player in the junior leagues, so you better watch out. I might even send you some referrals if you aren't careful
.
Velvel Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas. He was kicked out of Western Hills Elementary school for trying to set fire to the volleyball net. He claims to be a pharmaceutical distribution coach, although few of his clients seem to be alive or out of rehab. When he's not lambasting his twin brother, Ben Goldfarb, he spends half the year in various coffee houses in Amsterdam, and the other half of the year at Fred's Rainbow Bar in Juarez, Mexico. He's still deciding what to do during the third half of the year. Velvel's book, "Schnorring for Dummies" will be released three days before his twin brother's book is published. Velvel can be reached in person in either city. Don't show up empty handed. © Copyright 2008 by Velvel Goldfarb
f the coaching industry continues to grow at its present rate, pretty soon there will be more coaches than coachees. Once that happens, then maybe my workaholic twin brother, Ben, will be like me and out of a job.
Allow me to introduce myself. I'm the life coach's "evil" twin brother Velvel. The under-achiever, believe it or not, is going to be a coach too. For the record, I'm committed to becoming one of the smallest, if not the smallest, coaching companies on the planet.
Why do I say I'm going to be small? Because I don't see the point of thinking big. I plan to service 2 or 3 clients at the most. If I set my sights low, I won't be disappointed.
Speaking of happy, I'm content just the way I am. Bro', just be happy with who you are and get over it. Forget ambition and motivation. Stagnation can be fun. I've been doing it since grade school, and I've elevated it to an art form.
Ben likes to say he is the opposite of a judge. A judge sentences people to prison, and Ben claims his company helps you escape from jail. If you read Kierkegaard, Ben, you would know that life isn't "Either/Or". Life presents a plethora of choices. My metaphor for coaching is teaching clients how to decorate their prison cells while they are doing 10-20 years.
I'm having a great time hopping from one colorful Amsterdam coffee house to another. I've got no family, no mortgage, and no worries. I get a buzz right after I wake up and my morning continues just fine. Before you know it, the A.M. bleeds into the afternoon, and then happy hour rears its delightful head. At the end of the day, I believe I have as many happy moments as my goodie-goodie brother does "helping" his clients.
Indulge me for a few moments as I take his little Paradigm Shift rules of thumb and put a Velvel spin on them.
The quality of our life is the quality of our thoughts
Wrong. It's the quantity of our thoughts that count. You claim we have 70,000 thoughts a day. Don't change the content of your thoughts, like Ben suggests, but rather just think less. When I find myself thinking too much, I play the Buddha of the bar and stop conscious activity all together. I stare at the bowl of pretzels and enter nirvana. The number of my thoughts dwindles down to 2 or 3 before I pass out.
Think big and write down your goals
Nah. That's just setting yourself up for failure and disappointment. "Aim low", I always say. As I read somewhere, "no pain, no pain".
Install an internal GPS system and set the coordinates
Ben says this to his clients all the time, and I'm the one who is supposed to be on drugs.
I'm not anti-Ritalin, I'm pro-ADD
First of all, Ritalin is great fun, especially if you mix it with a few Rum and Cokes. By calling ADD a gift and succeeding despite it, you are losing a great opportunity to blame ADD for your problems, which brings me to my next point.
Stop playing victim and take responsibility
You may disagree, but I was victimized. I could've been a contender. They didn't have to kick me out of school. They didn't have to stop me from auditing courses at UT. It is their fault. It is my parent's fault. It is the weather's fault. It's your fault, Benny boy.
Feel the fear and do it anyway
I say, feel the fear and hide under the table. It's dangerous out there, especially if they run out of vodka.
It's never too late to have a happy childhood-Richard Bandler/Tom Robbins
How can you even quote this nonsense? The past might be over, but with some hard work, I can allow it to haunt me the rest of my life. You go ahead and get nostalgic about your future, Ben. I prefer to live in the real world.
So, brother dearest, look out for your competition. I'm going to be a minor player in the junior leagues, so you better watch out. I might even send you some referrals if you aren't careful
.
Velvel Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas. He was kicked out of Western Hills Elementary school for trying to set fire to the volleyball net. He claims to be a pharmaceutical distribution coach, although few of his clients seem to be alive or out of rehab. When he's not lambasting his twin brother, Ben Goldfarb, he spends half the year in various coffee houses in Amsterdam, and the other half of the year at Fred's Rainbow Bar in Juarez, Mexico. He's still deciding what to do during the third half of the year. Velvel's book, "Schnorring for Dummies" will be released three days before his twin brother's book is published. Velvel can be reached in person in either city. Don't show up empty handed. © Copyright 2008 by Velvel Goldfarb
Directing your own movie
Imagine you are recruited to co-direct and star in a major motion picture by one of the top directors in Hollywood. Despite your lack of experience, you are presented with an amazing contract. Your friends, colleagues, and your lawyer all advise you to sign on the dotted line. You follow their advice and take the job. Shooting starts in 10 days. A chauffeured limousine arrives at the studio to take you to the set. You get out of the car and find yourself at the door of your own home.
Whether we know it or not, we all are called upon to direct and star in the film of our own lives. If we have already assumed this role, there might be room for improvement and we can fine-tune what we are already doing. If we haven't started the job yet, it's never too late to begin.
Ask yourself what you want to see in your film. Is the film you are envisioning similar or different than your current life and to what extent? Your life may already be working well for you and you just might need to modify some elements of it.
A crucial element of your movie is selecting the genre. We lead complex lives and play many different roles so we probably will employ different genres depending upon the context.
Here are some guidelines:
Raising Children:
Communication with your children often falls under the genre of FOREIGN (without subtitles). You may want to take some steps to aim towards the FAMILY category.
Marriage
Married life is often filled with DRAMA and SUSPENSE. When appropriate, you may want to try some ROMANTIC COMEDY to lighten things up once in a while.
Profession
If you find yourself in a job that is reminiscent of HORROR, then you may want to aim towards the direction of ADVENTURE.
Goal Setting
If you find that your dreams, hopes and aspirations exist only in the realm of FANTASY, take some practical steps to move them into the world of DOCUMENTARY.
Once you have a clear idea of which genres you want to use, decide if you need a change of scenery, some new co-stars, or perhaps a major rewrite of the script. Take some time to find out what is called for and then create a plan of action with a time frame.
It is within your reach to direct a film that embodies your essence and resonates with your soul. Enjoy the journey. Celebrate each success along the way. Learn from minor setbacks and stay focused on the larger picture and keep the momentum going.
Accepting the job of director is an opportunity to live a full life and realize your potential. Write the script well, choose your co-actors wisely, and make your transitions between genres elegantly. Remember, you want to create a film that you would be happy to pay good money to see.
Whether we know it or not, we all are called upon to direct and star in the film of our own lives. If we have already assumed this role, there might be room for improvement and we can fine-tune what we are already doing. If we haven't started the job yet, it's never too late to begin.
Ask yourself what you want to see in your film. Is the film you are envisioning similar or different than your current life and to what extent? Your life may already be working well for you and you just might need to modify some elements of it.
A crucial element of your movie is selecting the genre. We lead complex lives and play many different roles so we probably will employ different genres depending upon the context.
Here are some guidelines:
Raising Children:
Communication with your children often falls under the genre of FOREIGN (without subtitles). You may want to take some steps to aim towards the FAMILY category.
Marriage
Married life is often filled with DRAMA and SUSPENSE. When appropriate, you may want to try some ROMANTIC COMEDY to lighten things up once in a while.
Profession
If you find yourself in a job that is reminiscent of HORROR, then you may want to aim towards the direction of ADVENTURE.
Goal Setting
If you find that your dreams, hopes and aspirations exist only in the realm of FANTASY, take some practical steps to move them into the world of DOCUMENTARY.
Once you have a clear idea of which genres you want to use, decide if you need a change of scenery, some new co-stars, or perhaps a major rewrite of the script. Take some time to find out what is called for and then create a plan of action with a time frame.
It is within your reach to direct a film that embodies your essence and resonates with your soul. Enjoy the journey. Celebrate each success along the way. Learn from minor setbacks and stay focused on the larger picture and keep the momentum going.
Accepting the job of director is an opportunity to live a full life and realize your potential. Write the script well, choose your co-actors wisely, and make your transitions between genres elegantly. Remember, you want to create a film that you would be happy to pay good money to see.
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
The flip side of the reality-challenged coin
Many of us are familiar with reality-challenged individuals. Some of them are waiting for alien aircraft to take them for a ride. (see http://www.jpost.com/servlet/Satellite?cid=1192380730400&pagename=JPost%2FJPArticle%2FShowFull). Other reality-challenged folks are camping out in Central Park waiting for the Beatles reunion concert. There is another category of people who look “normal” on the outside, but whose inner world is almost as challenging as the above individuals.
These “normal” reality-challenged people generally fit into one of four categories:
“Comfort Zone Dwellers”
“Comfort Zone Dwellers” are people who are happy to remain in their comfort zone, even though they aren’t enjoying it. Their comfort zone is a safe reality, but it is as effective as walking up the “down” escalator.
“Fuzzy Goal Setters”
“Fuzzy Goal Setters” have no defined dreams, hopes or aspirations, and if they do, their goals are as compelling and exciting as a three hour lecture on dental floss.
“Reality Mantra Mongers"
“Reality mantra mongers” might have powerful and compelling dreams and goals but feel they are unrealistic and therefore not attainable. They repeat the mantra "I'm just being realistic" over and over as a way of convincing themselves that there’s no point in trying. “Reality mantra mongers” usually take little action to transform their dreams into reality.
“False Prophets”
Although prophecy ended around two thousand years ago, false prophets love to peer into the future and predict worse case scenarios. Until prophesy returns, which will be any day now, it’s a good idea for the “false prophets” among us to visualize positive, or at least neutral, scenarios in their future.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m all in favor of reality. I believe in gravity and I subject myself to its laws. I think it’s a good idea to eat, sleep, and even breathe on occasion. However, when we use reality as an excuse, we are selling ourselves short.
If we want to create an exceptional life and make a significant contribution to society, we have to expand our understanding of what reality is and how we can transform it with some ingenuity, hard work, and effective spam filters.
We often create our own limitations and then live within these restricted parameters. When we are open to creating a better reality, then we will we push ourselves to the limit.
“Reality” as many of us define it is a copout. There are countless examples of people throughout history who decided to not accept reality as it was and then created a new vision of it.
For example, Jonas Salk created a new reality in immunology. It is counter-intuitive to inject live polio virus into a person to help her. However, our understanding of reality changed when we learned that this process stimulates the body to produce its own anti-bodies, thus protecting the body from polio in the future.
Keep in mind that there’s a fine line between powerful goals and self-delusion. While our goals should be challenging, they should be within the realm of possible, or the not yet possible. Run your idea by an expert for a reality check. However, make sure this expert is a visionary thinker, and grounded without being a dream-stealer.
For instance, we have broken the sound barrier, but breaking the speed of light seems like an impossible task. As we learned in our high school physics class, as we approach the speed of light, time slows down and matter turns into energy. This poses a serious challenge to traveling at the speed of light. Being transformed into complete energy can make it difficult to shower and get to work on time.
Will we address these challenges and someday travel at the speed of light? I don’t know. Ask an expert. Find out what challenges have to be overcome in order to make this goal a new reality and if we will need to wait several generations until this becomes possible.
Reality is to a certain extent subjective. When you take the bold step of not using “reality” as an excuse, you will begin to feel the satisfaction of living in constantly improving realities that you helped create. Since you have a degree of free will in shaping your reality, make sure you design a good one.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
These “normal” reality-challenged people generally fit into one of four categories:
“Comfort Zone Dwellers”
“Comfort Zone Dwellers” are people who are happy to remain in their comfort zone, even though they aren’t enjoying it. Their comfort zone is a safe reality, but it is as effective as walking up the “down” escalator.
“Fuzzy Goal Setters”
“Fuzzy Goal Setters” have no defined dreams, hopes or aspirations, and if they do, their goals are as compelling and exciting as a three hour lecture on dental floss.
“Reality Mantra Mongers"
“Reality mantra mongers” might have powerful and compelling dreams and goals but feel they are unrealistic and therefore not attainable. They repeat the mantra "I'm just being realistic" over and over as a way of convincing themselves that there’s no point in trying. “Reality mantra mongers” usually take little action to transform their dreams into reality.
“False Prophets”
Although prophecy ended around two thousand years ago, false prophets love to peer into the future and predict worse case scenarios. Until prophesy returns, which will be any day now, it’s a good idea for the “false prophets” among us to visualize positive, or at least neutral, scenarios in their future.
Don’t get me wrong. I’m all in favor of reality. I believe in gravity and I subject myself to its laws. I think it’s a good idea to eat, sleep, and even breathe on occasion. However, when we use reality as an excuse, we are selling ourselves short.
If we want to create an exceptional life and make a significant contribution to society, we have to expand our understanding of what reality is and how we can transform it with some ingenuity, hard work, and effective spam filters.
We often create our own limitations and then live within these restricted parameters. When we are open to creating a better reality, then we will we push ourselves to the limit.
“Reality” as many of us define it is a copout. There are countless examples of people throughout history who decided to not accept reality as it was and then created a new vision of it.
For example, Jonas Salk created a new reality in immunology. It is counter-intuitive to inject live polio virus into a person to help her. However, our understanding of reality changed when we learned that this process stimulates the body to produce its own anti-bodies, thus protecting the body from polio in the future.
Keep in mind that there’s a fine line between powerful goals and self-delusion. While our goals should be challenging, they should be within the realm of possible, or the not yet possible. Run your idea by an expert for a reality check. However, make sure this expert is a visionary thinker, and grounded without being a dream-stealer.
For instance, we have broken the sound barrier, but breaking the speed of light seems like an impossible task. As we learned in our high school physics class, as we approach the speed of light, time slows down and matter turns into energy. This poses a serious challenge to traveling at the speed of light. Being transformed into complete energy can make it difficult to shower and get to work on time.
Will we address these challenges and someday travel at the speed of light? I don’t know. Ask an expert. Find out what challenges have to be overcome in order to make this goal a new reality and if we will need to wait several generations until this becomes possible.
Reality is to a certain extent subjective. When you take the bold step of not using “reality” as an excuse, you will begin to feel the satisfaction of living in constantly improving realities that you helped create. Since you have a degree of free will in shaping your reality, make sure you design a good one.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
Ode to a comedian dying young
I was once part of a group of rambunctious teenagers who were hanging out on the river walk in San Antonio in the late 70s. We were singing Hebrew songs, even though we had no idea what the words meant. However, we were with Marvin, and we knew what that meant. We were in for the time of our lives.
In the midst of our singing, we were confronted by group of Palestinian students nearby who began “communicating” with us. Without a working knowledge of Arabic, we made a safe assumption that they were neither praising us, our ancestors, nor our descendents.
Our response to their outbursts was to sing louder. We were under the false impression that elevating the volume would make us and our enemies understand the meaning of our nonsense syllables.
Before we knew what was happening, Marvin approached the group and claimed to be an exchange student from South America. He put on a thick Spanish accent and got the group laughing so hard that they forgot their anger. They exchanged phone numbers and pats on the back. Marvin was the great peacemaker and statesman.
Suddenly we saw a frozen chicken begin its trajectory from a second story window to some nearby bushes. On its heels (or frozen wings) was the man of the house, running to retrieve his dinner.
He was screaming epithets at his wife as he desperately looked in the foliage for the inanimate fowl. Despite the fact that we attended high school, our English skills were nonetheless halfway decent. We understood that he wasn’t praising his wife’s cooking skills, nor her understanding of aerodynamics and gravity.
This incident was funny in its own right, but only Marvin could upgrade it to the status of hilarious. After the man went back to his apartment to confront his poultry-tossing wife, Marvin did a brilliant impression of this guy. He mastered the accent, the body language, and included every nuance in his routine, capturing every detail of the event. His performance surpassed the original.
Marvin wasn’t the kind of guy who memorized jokes and delivered them with comic timing. He looked at real life situations and gave extemporaneous performances that brought his audience to tears and to the verge of losing control of certain bodily functions.
His humor wasn’t just a way to get a laugh. It was intelligent and deep. We learned a great deal about ourselves when the laughter died down. Marvin was educating us about life in a comic way that no school could duplicate.
Marvin was my best friend. Many people gave him the same title. However, when he was with me, he conveyed the feeling that our friendship was special and that I was in competition with no one.
Marvin packed more into his 17 years of life than many people do in a lifetime. He was truly alive in every sense of the word, which made his tragic death even more painful to all those who knew him.
As long as we are alive, our mission has not yet been completed. I believe Marvin’s soul was summoned on high, and this was proof that his mission on Earth was finished. My mission right now is to maintain the humorous tone of this column. If I fail to do that, I run the risk of Marvin kicking my tushie all over town in the next world.
Darkness descended upon my soul when I found out that he was killed in a car accident. I entered a state of morbidity and angst that lasted for years. I was like a zombie. It was difficult to choose which Slurpee flavor to order at the neighborhood 7/11. I often found myself staring blankly at the Pakistani employee who waited patiently, adjusting his turban, until I placed my order. A few months later, John Lennon was killed. I wasn’t having a good year.
Two things happened that brought the light back into my eyes. One thing was internalizing the faith that everything happens for a reason and it is for the ultimate good. None of us could have done anything to prevent Marvin’s death. Furthermore, our years on earth are numbered. We have to live each day to the fullest because we don’t know which day will be our last.
The second thing that brought the light back into my eyes was when we named our son. Marvin’s Hebrew name was Meir, which means illuminate. My son’s middle name is Ya’ir, which is the future tense of Meir, he will illuminate.
My son, who should be blessed with 120 joyful and meaningful years, has a brilliant sense of humor. When I see the twinkle in his eyes, I can picture Marvin’s mischievous smile and hear his contagious laughter.
We won’t get a lot of the answers to our “why” questions in this world. I feel Marvin found out the answer to “why” he was taken from us, and I believe that the answer he was given made perfect sense to him.
When we are all united in the next world, we will then understand why Marvin left us so early. We will also get the answers to the other “why” questions that come up during our lifetimes.
In the meantime, we all had to figure out the “how” question: how to function without Marvin in this world. This was not easy, but slowly, I found myself choosing which Slurpee flavor I wanted even before I got out of the car.
Life went on. There are some funny people out there, and even if they can’t make us laugh like Marvin could, at least we can take some comfort knowing that we were blessed with exposure to his humor and the invaluable education he gave us.
With the gift of eternity, we will all be together when the time comes. We will hang out at “Marvin’s Improv” in the sky, reminiscing about old times, and anticipating new experiences together. And Marvin, the first round of drinks is on your best friend.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
In the midst of our singing, we were confronted by group of Palestinian students nearby who began “communicating” with us. Without a working knowledge of Arabic, we made a safe assumption that they were neither praising us, our ancestors, nor our descendents.
Our response to their outbursts was to sing louder. We were under the false impression that elevating the volume would make us and our enemies understand the meaning of our nonsense syllables.
Before we knew what was happening, Marvin approached the group and claimed to be an exchange student from South America. He put on a thick Spanish accent and got the group laughing so hard that they forgot their anger. They exchanged phone numbers and pats on the back. Marvin was the great peacemaker and statesman.
Suddenly we saw a frozen chicken begin its trajectory from a second story window to some nearby bushes. On its heels (or frozen wings) was the man of the house, running to retrieve his dinner.
He was screaming epithets at his wife as he desperately looked in the foliage for the inanimate fowl. Despite the fact that we attended high school, our English skills were nonetheless halfway decent. We understood that he wasn’t praising his wife’s cooking skills, nor her understanding of aerodynamics and gravity.
This incident was funny in its own right, but only Marvin could upgrade it to the status of hilarious. After the man went back to his apartment to confront his poultry-tossing wife, Marvin did a brilliant impression of this guy. He mastered the accent, the body language, and included every nuance in his routine, capturing every detail of the event. His performance surpassed the original.
Marvin wasn’t the kind of guy who memorized jokes and delivered them with comic timing. He looked at real life situations and gave extemporaneous performances that brought his audience to tears and to the verge of losing control of certain bodily functions.
His humor wasn’t just a way to get a laugh. It was intelligent and deep. We learned a great deal about ourselves when the laughter died down. Marvin was educating us about life in a comic way that no school could duplicate.
Marvin was my best friend. Many people gave him the same title. However, when he was with me, he conveyed the feeling that our friendship was special and that I was in competition with no one.
Marvin packed more into his 17 years of life than many people do in a lifetime. He was truly alive in every sense of the word, which made his tragic death even more painful to all those who knew him.
As long as we are alive, our mission has not yet been completed. I believe Marvin’s soul was summoned on high, and this was proof that his mission on Earth was finished. My mission right now is to maintain the humorous tone of this column. If I fail to do that, I run the risk of Marvin kicking my tushie all over town in the next world.
Darkness descended upon my soul when I found out that he was killed in a car accident. I entered a state of morbidity and angst that lasted for years. I was like a zombie. It was difficult to choose which Slurpee flavor to order at the neighborhood 7/11. I often found myself staring blankly at the Pakistani employee who waited patiently, adjusting his turban, until I placed my order. A few months later, John Lennon was killed. I wasn’t having a good year.
Two things happened that brought the light back into my eyes. One thing was internalizing the faith that everything happens for a reason and it is for the ultimate good. None of us could have done anything to prevent Marvin’s death. Furthermore, our years on earth are numbered. We have to live each day to the fullest because we don’t know which day will be our last.
The second thing that brought the light back into my eyes was when we named our son. Marvin’s Hebrew name was Meir, which means illuminate. My son’s middle name is Ya’ir, which is the future tense of Meir, he will illuminate.
My son, who should be blessed with 120 joyful and meaningful years, has a brilliant sense of humor. When I see the twinkle in his eyes, I can picture Marvin’s mischievous smile and hear his contagious laughter.
We won’t get a lot of the answers to our “why” questions in this world. I feel Marvin found out the answer to “why” he was taken from us, and I believe that the answer he was given made perfect sense to him.
When we are all united in the next world, we will then understand why Marvin left us so early. We will also get the answers to the other “why” questions that come up during our lifetimes.
In the meantime, we all had to figure out the “how” question: how to function without Marvin in this world. This was not easy, but slowly, I found myself choosing which Slurpee flavor I wanted even before I got out of the car.
Life went on. There are some funny people out there, and even if they can’t make us laugh like Marvin could, at least we can take some comfort knowing that we were blessed with exposure to his humor and the invaluable education he gave us.
With the gift of eternity, we will all be together when the time comes. We will hang out at “Marvin’s Improv” in the sky, reminiscing about old times, and anticipating new experiences together. And Marvin, the first round of drinks is on your best friend.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Tuesday, February 26, 2008
Tying the knot with time
Most of us spend a significant portion of our time seeking out relationships or improving our current ones. However, few of us think about our relationship with time itself. Fortunately, there’s a new dating website that can help us chose our best match with time. Here’s a random sample of the exciting time profiles that are available and just waiting for you to give them a call.
The Past: Version 1:
My past was amazing. I’m convinced that my present and future will never live up to the good old days. I spend most of my time in the past, basking in the nostalgic warmth and serenity that my memories bring me.
The Past: Version 2:
I spend most of my time in the past because I went through a living hell. I enjoy replaying horrible scenes from my childhood in an infinite loop of dismay and despair. I have no need to go to horror movies because I have my own film noir festival in my brain. I think little about the present and the future because it’s just going to be filled with more bad movies.
The Past: Version 3:
The past happened. My mission is to interpret the past in the way that serves me best in the present and in the future.
The Present: Version 1
I spend all of my time living in the present. I am enveloped by the here and now. My very being is bathed in the microsecond. I think neither about the past nor the future. Why should I? If I can’t enjoy my present, what’s the point of expecting anything in the future? As for the past, it doesn’t concern me because it isn’t happening right now.
The Present: Version 2
I work hard for my future goals, and when I attain them, I revel in my success in the present. I enjoy pockets of infinity enjoying my present, whether it’s playing with a giggling infant, or watching a beautiful sunset. When I finish my moments of youthful abandon, I think about the lessons I learned from my diverse past and apply them to my bright future.
The Future: Version 1
I dread the future. Things are only going to get worse. Look at my track record. My past is terrible and who can bother with the present when I’m too worried about how bad things are going to get tomorrow and the next day?
The Future: Version 2
Nothing exists but the future. I know my life is going to get better soon. It’s just got to improve. And when I attain success, I won’t have time to enjoy it because I have to focus on my next goal. And who cares about the past? It’s over.
This is only a random sample of diverse time profiles that you can choose for your very own. There are countless other permutations of time out there. You just have to look for them, or create them yourself. Think it over carefully, and then take your time.
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. You can order his CD or download a copy at www.lulu.com/content/314023 or www.lulu.com/content/360288. His blog is located at http://bengoldfarb.blogspot.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
The Past: Version 1:
My past was amazing. I’m convinced that my present and future will never live up to the good old days. I spend most of my time in the past, basking in the nostalgic warmth and serenity that my memories bring me.
The Past: Version 2:
I spend most of my time in the past because I went through a living hell. I enjoy replaying horrible scenes from my childhood in an infinite loop of dismay and despair. I have no need to go to horror movies because I have my own film noir festival in my brain. I think little about the present and the future because it’s just going to be filled with more bad movies.
The Past: Version 3:
The past happened. My mission is to interpret the past in the way that serves me best in the present and in the future.
The Present: Version 1
I spend all of my time living in the present. I am enveloped by the here and now. My very being is bathed in the microsecond. I think neither about the past nor the future. Why should I? If I can’t enjoy my present, what’s the point of expecting anything in the future? As for the past, it doesn’t concern me because it isn’t happening right now.
The Present: Version 2
I work hard for my future goals, and when I attain them, I revel in my success in the present. I enjoy pockets of infinity enjoying my present, whether it’s playing with a giggling infant, or watching a beautiful sunset. When I finish my moments of youthful abandon, I think about the lessons I learned from my diverse past and apply them to my bright future.
The Future: Version 1
I dread the future. Things are only going to get worse. Look at my track record. My past is terrible and who can bother with the present when I’m too worried about how bad things are going to get tomorrow and the next day?
The Future: Version 2
Nothing exists but the future. I know my life is going to get better soon. It’s just got to improve. And when I attain success, I won’t have time to enjoy it because I have to focus on my next goal. And who cares about the past? It’s over.
This is only a random sample of diverse time profiles that you can choose for your very own. There are countless other permutations of time out there. You just have to look for them, or create them yourself. Think it over carefully, and then take your time.
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. You can order his CD or download a copy at www.lulu.com/content/314023 or www.lulu.com/content/360288. His blog is located at http://bengoldfarb.blogspot.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Wednesday, February 20, 2008
Most likely to become Buddhist
It's not very edifying to be voted “the most likely to become Buddhist” in your Hebrew school class. Unless of course you are Jason, who worked long and hard to gain the title. He was proud of it, and no one was going to take it away from him.
Jason didn't just hate Hebrew school, he wanted nothing to do with Judaism, Israel, or even the UJA. The child of Holocaust survivors, there was no place for G-d in his world. He put his energies into martial arts and eastern religions.
When he was learning Hebrew, he wrote a separate column in his notebook for Chinese vocabulary words. He was learning Chinese from a refugee from Beijing who lived nearby. Jason swore to us that the day after his Bar Mitzvah, he would never set foot in a synagogue again.
Ironically, he became passionate about saving Soviet Jews during his teenage years. Back in the days when the Iron Curtain was as hard to open as childproof aspirin containers, Jason worked tirelessly with the Free Soviet Jewry campaign.
He attended all-night vigils, got arrested for throwing red paint on the Soviet ballet troupe, and protested outside the Russian embassy in Washington.
His greatest joy in the campaign was his communication with his refusnik pen pal, Vladimir. Vladi was an emergency room physician in Moscow who had been denied entry to Israel for years.
They discussed everything. Vladi was like a father figure to Jason. Jason's own father was solemn and bitter because of World War II. Vladi was buoyant and warm despite the Cold War.
They communicated by mail for three years, and the correspondence suddenly ended on Jason's 17th birthday. Jason had written to a prominent US Senator and he was promised that there was some movement on Vladi's case. The correspondence with the senator also ended abruptly. Jason was worried that Vladi had been sent to the Gulag and he'd never hear from him again. He feared for Vladi's life.
In the meantime, Jason received a scholarship during his senior year of high school. The scholarship would pay for his first two years of university as long as he met two conditions. The first condition was participation in a 6-week trip to Israel and the second condition was getting a minor in Jewish studies.
Jason would rather have joined Vladi in the Gulag than visit the "fascist" state of Israel and learn more about his outdated, provincial religion. But his friends convinced him to take the trip and then decline the scholarship later. Besides, he could always change his ticket on the way home and get a free trip to a “civilized” country in Europe.
So Jason signed all the scholarship paperwork and was committed to being the most rebellious person on the trip to the Zionist entity. He brought non-kosher food into the youth hostel, smoked on Shabbat, and got drunk any chance he could.
The counselors were long-suffering, but eventually they had to put their collective foot down. After his last drinking episode in which he passed out in a Jerusalem pub and was brought back to the dorm by the police, Jason was told he was being sent home. To add insult to injury, he was told that they were going to call his parents to tell them the news.
His parents had been through enough during their short and bitter lives, and he didn't want them to get this phone call and compound their grief. He couldn't bear the thought of their reaction and the pain it would cause them. He begged his counselors not to call his parents, but they said they were already on the line with them.
Jason couldn't take it. He stopped breathing. One of the counselors knew CPR and began mouth to mouth resuscitation. It was clear that this wasn't a simple case of hyperventilation brought about by stress. They had a serious medical emergency on their hands. Jason had a history of heart disease.
The counselors called an ambulance which arrived within minutes and a medic brought Jason back to life with a heart defibrillator.
As they drove to the hospital, Jason heard the medics conversing. One medic had a thick Russian accent and was speaking in fluent English. He was already an MD in Russia. He was working as a medic until the Israelis would recognize his credentials.
The medic was discussing how he never would have made it out of Russia had it not been for the persistence of a young American who wrote him weekly for years. This selfless teenager had managed to get a US senator to work on his case. The senator eventually secured his visa for him.
The medic explained that he had to stop communication with his American friend so it wouldn't endanger his chances of getting out of the USSR. He sent letters to him from Israel, but for some reason, they were returned to him unopened with the words “wrong address” stamped on them. He wondered if he would ever be able to contact his American friend again.
Jason came out of his semi-conscious state and yelled out Vladi's name. Vladi looked at Jason, called out his name, and when Jason identified himself, Vladi almost went into shock. It was a good thing he was in ambulance.
The odds against such a reunion occurring were astronomically high. They hugged each other. Vladi almost pulled Jason's IV out of his arm by accident.
Jason went in and out of a comatose state all night. Vladi stayed by his side, checking his vital signs. Since he wasn't licensed as a physician in Israel yet, Vladi couldn't administer medication to Jason. However, he kept an eye on Jason's condition and tried making him as comfortable as possible.
Jason was fully conscious in the morning but not completely out of the woods. After a week of tests and observation, Jason was given a clean bill of health and released from the hospital.
Although this incident didn't make Jason believe in G-d, he did develop a belief in a Higher Intelligence who orchestrates meetings between friends from different continents. Jason helped Vladi gain his freedom and Vladi gave Jason his very life back to him.
Upon his return to the US, Jason decided to carry out his end of the agreement and he minored in Jewish studies. He slowly became less negative about his heritage. He visits Vladi frequently in Israel and Vladi has been to the US to visit Jason on a few occasions.
As for Buddism, Jason lost interest in eastern religions, although he is still involved in martial arts. Vladi has a daughter Jason's age and is thinking of a way to orchestrate a “chance” meeting with his daughter and Jason.
With his track record, Vladi just needs to get out of the way and let the Higher Intelligence do the matchmaking. Besides, an international Kung Fu competition was scheduled in New York in a few months and both Jason and Vladi's daughter were on the roster by “coincidence.”
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. You can order his CD or download a copy at www.lulu.com/content/314023 or www.lulu.com/content/360288. His blog is located at http://bengoldfarb.blogspot.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Jason didn't just hate Hebrew school, he wanted nothing to do with Judaism, Israel, or even the UJA. The child of Holocaust survivors, there was no place for G-d in his world. He put his energies into martial arts and eastern religions.
When he was learning Hebrew, he wrote a separate column in his notebook for Chinese vocabulary words. He was learning Chinese from a refugee from Beijing who lived nearby. Jason swore to us that the day after his Bar Mitzvah, he would never set foot in a synagogue again.
Ironically, he became passionate about saving Soviet Jews during his teenage years. Back in the days when the Iron Curtain was as hard to open as childproof aspirin containers, Jason worked tirelessly with the Free Soviet Jewry campaign.
He attended all-night vigils, got arrested for throwing red paint on the Soviet ballet troupe, and protested outside the Russian embassy in Washington.
His greatest joy in the campaign was his communication with his refusnik pen pal, Vladimir. Vladi was an emergency room physician in Moscow who had been denied entry to Israel for years.
They discussed everything. Vladi was like a father figure to Jason. Jason's own father was solemn and bitter because of World War II. Vladi was buoyant and warm despite the Cold War.
They communicated by mail for three years, and the correspondence suddenly ended on Jason's 17th birthday. Jason had written to a prominent US Senator and he was promised that there was some movement on Vladi's case. The correspondence with the senator also ended abruptly. Jason was worried that Vladi had been sent to the Gulag and he'd never hear from him again. He feared for Vladi's life.
In the meantime, Jason received a scholarship during his senior year of high school. The scholarship would pay for his first two years of university as long as he met two conditions. The first condition was participation in a 6-week trip to Israel and the second condition was getting a minor in Jewish studies.
Jason would rather have joined Vladi in the Gulag than visit the "fascist" state of Israel and learn more about his outdated, provincial religion. But his friends convinced him to take the trip and then decline the scholarship later. Besides, he could always change his ticket on the way home and get a free trip to a “civilized” country in Europe.
So Jason signed all the scholarship paperwork and was committed to being the most rebellious person on the trip to the Zionist entity. He brought non-kosher food into the youth hostel, smoked on Shabbat, and got drunk any chance he could.
The counselors were long-suffering, but eventually they had to put their collective foot down. After his last drinking episode in which he passed out in a Jerusalem pub and was brought back to the dorm by the police, Jason was told he was being sent home. To add insult to injury, he was told that they were going to call his parents to tell them the news.
His parents had been through enough during their short and bitter lives, and he didn't want them to get this phone call and compound their grief. He couldn't bear the thought of their reaction and the pain it would cause them. He begged his counselors not to call his parents, but they said they were already on the line with them.
Jason couldn't take it. He stopped breathing. One of the counselors knew CPR and began mouth to mouth resuscitation. It was clear that this wasn't a simple case of hyperventilation brought about by stress. They had a serious medical emergency on their hands. Jason had a history of heart disease.
The counselors called an ambulance which arrived within minutes and a medic brought Jason back to life with a heart defibrillator.
As they drove to the hospital, Jason heard the medics conversing. One medic had a thick Russian accent and was speaking in fluent English. He was already an MD in Russia. He was working as a medic until the Israelis would recognize his credentials.
The medic was discussing how he never would have made it out of Russia had it not been for the persistence of a young American who wrote him weekly for years. This selfless teenager had managed to get a US senator to work on his case. The senator eventually secured his visa for him.
The medic explained that he had to stop communication with his American friend so it wouldn't endanger his chances of getting out of the USSR. He sent letters to him from Israel, but for some reason, they were returned to him unopened with the words “wrong address” stamped on them. He wondered if he would ever be able to contact his American friend again.
Jason came out of his semi-conscious state and yelled out Vladi's name. Vladi looked at Jason, called out his name, and when Jason identified himself, Vladi almost went into shock. It was a good thing he was in ambulance.
The odds against such a reunion occurring were astronomically high. They hugged each other. Vladi almost pulled Jason's IV out of his arm by accident.
Jason went in and out of a comatose state all night. Vladi stayed by his side, checking his vital signs. Since he wasn't licensed as a physician in Israel yet, Vladi couldn't administer medication to Jason. However, he kept an eye on Jason's condition and tried making him as comfortable as possible.
Jason was fully conscious in the morning but not completely out of the woods. After a week of tests and observation, Jason was given a clean bill of health and released from the hospital.
Although this incident didn't make Jason believe in G-d, he did develop a belief in a Higher Intelligence who orchestrates meetings between friends from different continents. Jason helped Vladi gain his freedom and Vladi gave Jason his very life back to him.
Upon his return to the US, Jason decided to carry out his end of the agreement and he minored in Jewish studies. He slowly became less negative about his heritage. He visits Vladi frequently in Israel and Vladi has been to the US to visit Jason on a few occasions.
As for Buddism, Jason lost interest in eastern religions, although he is still involved in martial arts. Vladi has a daughter Jason's age and is thinking of a way to orchestrate a “chance” meeting with his daughter and Jason.
With his track record, Vladi just needs to get out of the way and let the Higher Intelligence do the matchmaking. Besides, an international Kung Fu competition was scheduled in New York in a few months and both Jason and Vladi's daughter were on the roster by “coincidence.”
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the http://pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. You can order his CD or download a copy at www.lulu.com/content/314023 or www.lulu.com/content/360288. His blog is located at http://bengoldfarb.blogspot.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Wednesday, February 13, 2008
Modern stone-age families
Come on, admit it, you watched "The Jetsons" at least once in your life. In case you grew up in Eastern Europe or on a space shuttle without satellite hook-up, "The Jetsons" was a cartoon that presented a humorous look at the future. At least according to some people.
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book {italic} Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future{/italic} will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit www.pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Gaining our ideal weight
Call me a stickler for words, but our word choice has a profound effect on our reality. That’s why I don’t use the term “loss” when speaking about weight. Who wants to lose anything? I prefer to speak about “gaining” our ideal weight.
When we use the words “loss”, “diet”, and “exercise”, our unconscious mind shuts down and stops cooperating. When we say “gain”, “healthy eating” and “activity”, our unconscious mind is ready, willing and able to help us attain our goals. Remember, all learning and change take place on the unconscious level. If we don’t have our unconscious mind’s permission and agreement, than all the conscious tricks in the world won’t work to gain our ideal weight. Period.
Allow me to share a few words about myself and my relationship to the bathroom scale. I am not overweight by any stretch of the imagination. However, I work at maintaining my ideal weight and if I were to let my guard down for more than 48 hours, I would begin to slide down the slippery slope to acquiring a pot belly, love handles, and the dreaded double chin.
I do need to gain my ideal weight to the tune of 10 pounds, but that will happen once my bronchial issues disappear and I begin running once again. In the meantime, I walk to all of my meetings and avoid elevators like the plague.
The way to gain your ideal weight and maintain it is easy. If I can do it, an ADD/ADHD, slightly dyslexic Texan who left the Lone Star State of Texas for the Lone Star State of Israel, than anyone can. Here goes.
Gaining the idea weight
Put your goals into writing and place this paper in a place where you will see it several times a day. Eating Healthy Eat small amounts of all of the food that appeals to you. Take your time and realize that you are satiated even before you think that you are full.
Activity
Make it a point to be involved in a fun activity at least three times a week for an hour. It can be running, swimming, or walking. Do it with a partner or with an MP3 player with a recording of your favorite music or comedian.
Visualizations
Take a picture of yourself and photoshop it to the ideal dimensions you want to gain. Look at this picture frequently. This is a tremendous motivator.
Constant reminders
Whenever I see person who has not yet gained his/her ideal weight, this reminds me to gain and/or maintain my ideal weight. I have added many things to this list of reminders. Whenever I see a stop sign, it reminds me of my weight goals. Whenever someone uses verbs in a sentence, it reminds me that I’m closer to my ideal weight. Every time I exhale, I am again reminded that I have a job to do and I’m having a good time playing to get there.
I wish you success with your gains. Enjoy the process. Celebrate your successes. Did I mention enjoying the process?
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book "Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future" will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the http://pdshiftcoaching.com
, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. You can order his CD or download a copy at www.lulu.com/content/314023 or www.lulu.com/content/360288 © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Saturday, February 09, 2008
Vacuum Cleaners and the Twilight Zone
Allow me to share a traumatic incident that occurred to me when I was 17 years old. I must warn you that the words that follow are not for the squeamish. Think twice before continuing. This article could redeem you, or it might send you reeling into despair, dismay, and premature balding.
I was enjoying a carefree summer in El Paso, Texas, where I grew up. I found it very difficult to enjoy the summer anywhere else, because I wasn't there.
I spent my evenings with my friends until the wee hours of the morning. When we weren't burning the midnight oil discussing philosophy and ways of changing the world, we were involved in heated debates over the flavor, viscosity and alcoholic content of various foreign and domestic beers.
I usually came home around 3 or 4 in the morning and was awakened by my alarm at 10 o'clock. Being a master of discipline and personal growth, I proceeded to sleep for a couple more hours.
After dragging myself out of bed at a few minutes before noon, I went to the kitchen, where I threw a few kosher rolled tacos into the microwave. Equipped with my nourishment, I sat myself down in front of the TV to watch "Twilight Zone" reruns.
One day, as I kicked up my feet on the coffee table waiting for Rod Serling's introduction, an event occurred that shook up my very existence. An interplay of cosmic forces was about to occur that would penetrate to the core of my being. As Serling was beginning his narrative, our housekeeper, busy with her vacuuming, asked me to lift my legs for a few moments. Apparently, she wanted to vacuum under the very same coffee table that was hosting my feet and my lunch.
For some reason, I honored her request. Why didn't I ask her to wait a few moments until the commercial? Why didn't I just say no? Why didn't I ignore her completely? These questions haunted me for years. But alas, we can't change the past — or can we?
I lifted my legs so she could do her work, and thereby missed 32 seconds of the show. The roar of the Hoover beast drowned out Serling's voice and created wavy lines on the TV screen. I was very lucky that the vibrations from her weapon of personal destruction didn't cause one of the tacos to fall to the floor, never to be consumed again.
The horror. The humanity. Our housekeeper, although well intentioned, couldn't have had a poorer sense of timing if she had tried.
This trauma was now a part of me, and as far as I knew, this event would be imprinted in my soul indelibly. Every time I heard a vacuum cleaner, I cringed. When a car backfired, I jumped to the ground instinctively in a vain attempt to save a phantom taco from falling to the ground. When I heard anyone whose voice matched Rod Serling's tonality, my hyper-vigilance kicked in and I looked over my shoulder for a vacuum cleaner-wielding maid.
Five years later, during my senior year of college at UT Austin, I was recovering from an all-night cramming session when I had an epiphany. I realized that, just as this phobia was created instantly, it could be cured instantly as well.
I started to play the scene over in my mind, but stopped right before I put my feet on the coffee table. As the director of my movie, I changed the scene ever so slightly. In my new version of the film, I picked up the portable phone and dialed our second home number. In my new version of the event, the maid answered the phone, and, in my broken Spanish, I was able to sell her a cable TV subscription.
When she hung up the phone and resumed vacuuming, it was time for a commercial. She did her vacuuming while I fetched some more tacos. The trauma had been avoided. I watched the entire show, and no tacos were even slightly in danger of plummeting to the floor.
I was given the gift of changing the past. With my new memory, there was no need to create a phobia or suffer from any type of post traumatic stress syndrome.
I had to test the efficacy of this cure, so I got in my car and drove to the closest mall. I went straight to Home Depot and ran to the vacuum cleaner department. I mustered up all of my courage and allowed the salespeople to demonstrate the various vacuum cleaner models to me. As they went through their pitches, I didn't cringe or jump. I even did some vacuuming myself. I was no longer scared and found myself enjoying the experience.
But the testing process was not over yet. I spoke to a number of people in the mall whose voices sounded like Rod Serling's. To my great surprise, I experienced no negativity and had no flashbacks of "the event." This is because my memory of the scene had changed, at least in my mind.
Would this cure last, or was it just a quick fix? Would I be able to keep the change?
The answer is unequivocally yes. The phobia was completely dissolved. It's been 22 years, and I haven't had one flashback. To this day, I vacuum any chance I get. I've watched several "Twilight Zone" marathons on TV and I enjoyed every minute of them.
I realize that not everyone is as lucky as I am. Perhaps the whole cure was a fluke and can't be replicated. Maybe I was chosen to go through this hell on earth so I could tell my story to others. Perhaps I was singled out to suffer so I could help those who may have gone through a similar experience. Or maybe I just need to get a life.
— — —
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 was enjoying a carefree summer in El Paso, Texas, where I grew up. I found it very difficult to enjoy the summer anywhere else, because I wasn't there.
I spent my evenings with my friends until the wee hours of the morning. When we weren't burning the midnight oil discussing philosophy and ways of changing the world, we were involved in heated debates over the flavor, viscosity and alcoholic content of various foreign and domestic beers.
I usually came home around 3 or 4 in the morning and was awakened by my alarm at 10 o'clock. Being a master of discipline and personal growth, I proceeded to sleep for a couple more hours.
After dragging myself out of bed at a few minutes before noon, I went to the kitchen, where I threw a few kosher rolled tacos into the microwave. Equipped with my nourishment, I sat myself down in front of the TV to watch "Twilight Zone" reruns.
One day, as I kicked up my feet on the coffee table waiting for Rod Serling's introduction, an event occurred that shook up my very existence. An interplay of cosmic forces was about to occur that would penetrate to the core of my being. As Serling was beginning his narrative, our housekeeper, busy with her vacuuming, asked me to lift my legs for a few moments. Apparently, she wanted to vacuum under the very same coffee table that was hosting my feet and my lunch.
For some reason, I honored her request. Why didn't I ask her to wait a few moments until the commercial? Why didn't I just say no? Why didn't I ignore her completely? These questions haunted me for years. But alas, we can't change the past — or can we?
I lifted my legs so she could do her work, and thereby missed 32 seconds of the show. The roar of the Hoover beast drowned out Serling's voice and created wavy lines on the TV screen. I was very lucky that the vibrations from her weapon of personal destruction didn't cause one of the tacos to fall to the floor, never to be consumed again.
The horror. The humanity. Our housekeeper, although well intentioned, couldn't have had a poorer sense of timing if she had tried.
This trauma was now a part of me, and as far as I knew, this event would be imprinted in my soul indelibly. Every time I heard a vacuum cleaner, I cringed. When a car backfired, I jumped to the ground instinctively in a vain attempt to save a phantom taco from falling to the ground. When I heard anyone whose voice matched Rod Serling's tonality, my hyper-vigilance kicked in and I looked over my shoulder for a vacuum cleaner-wielding maid.
Five years later, during my senior year of college at UT Austin, I was recovering from an all-night cramming session when I had an epiphany. I realized that, just as this phobia was created instantly, it could be cured instantly as well.
I started to play the scene over in my mind, but stopped right before I put my feet on the coffee table. As the director of my movie, I changed the scene ever so slightly. In my new version of the film, I picked up the portable phone and dialed our second home number. In my new version of the event, the maid answered the phone, and, in my broken Spanish, I was able to sell her a cable TV subscription.
When she hung up the phone and resumed vacuuming, it was time for a commercial. She did her vacuuming while I fetched some more tacos. The trauma had been avoided. I watched the entire show, and no tacos were even slightly in danger of plummeting to the floor.
I was given the gift of changing the past. With my new memory, there was no need to create a phobia or suffer from any type of post traumatic stress syndrome.
I had to test the efficacy of this cure, so I got in my car and drove to the closest mall. I went straight to Home Depot and ran to the vacuum cleaner department. I mustered up all of my courage and allowed the salespeople to demonstrate the various vacuum cleaner models to me. As they went through their pitches, I didn't cringe or jump. I even did some vacuuming myself. I was no longer scared and found myself enjoying the experience.
But the testing process was not over yet. I spoke to a number of people in the mall whose voices sounded like Rod Serling's. To my great surprise, I experienced no negativity and had no flashbacks of "the event." This is because my memory of the scene had changed, at least in my mind.
Would this cure last, or was it just a quick fix? Would I be able to keep the change?
The answer is unequivocally yes. The phobia was completely dissolved. It's been 22 years, and I haven't had one flashback. To this day, I vacuum any chance I get. I've watched several "Twilight Zone" marathons on TV and I enjoyed every minute of them.
I realize that not everyone is as lucky as I am. Perhaps the whole cure was a fluke and can't be replicated. Maybe I was chosen to go through this hell on earth so I could tell my story to others. Perhaps I was singled out to suffer so I could help those who may have gone through a similar experience. Or maybe I just need to get a life.
— — —
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.
Groundhog year
The best definition I know of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting different results. A classic example of this phenomenon is when a fly tries to exit a house through a shut window and keeps pounding its frail body against the glass endlessly. Another example of insanity is how some of us approach the new year with a long list of things we want to change but with no concrete plan to alter our thoughts or actions.
If you never saw the movie "Groundhog Day", directed by Harold Ramis in 1993, do yourself a favor and rent or buy the DVD. In this movie, Bill Murray plays a TV anchorman who finds himself living the same day, February 2nd (Groundhog Day), over and over again.
At first, he is despondent and self-destructive, and indulges in less than positive behaviors as a result of his predicament. After a few rounds of living the same day, however, he embarks on a campaign of altruism and self-improvement. I won't give away any more details of the movie in case you decide to watch it. Suffice it to say that the film serves as a paradigm of Tshuva (Repentance), and illustrates the vehicle for change as the protagonist's conscious decision to change his thoughts and behavior and thereby enjoy a different outcome.
The changes we make for the new year need not be drastic. For example, altering one's course when flying a plane by only a few degrees leads to a dramatic change in the final destination. Similarly, minor adjustments in one's thought patterns and actions can lead to amazing positive transformations in one's life.
The following are a few examples of small modifications we can make during the upcoming year that can lead to countless positive results:
Thoughts
Keep a journal and note the number of positive thoughts you have during the day versus negative thoughts.
Gently reframe a negative thought into a positive one by creatively viewing the situation from a more proactive perspective.
Anticipate the outcome of a situation as positive instead of a indulging in negative prophecy.
Actions
Go out of your way once a month to do something nice for a family member or a friend.
Remind your family members once a week about some of the things you appreciate about them.
Cultivate a mindset of gratitude by counting your blessings and taking a moment to say thank you before you begin any enjoyable activity.
When we make a small commitment to upgrade our thoughts and actions, then we can anticipate the logical consequences of these modifications. In this way, we won't be destined to living yet another "Groundhog Year". By doing something different, we stand a good chance of not only managing to exit the house by trying a new route, we can transform ourselves into eagles and soar above and beyond our expectations. This plan of action provides us with a fighting chance of moving towards a life filled with infinite growth, balance, contribution, and satisfaction.
**********************
In addition to his personal coaching practice, Ben Goldfarb has led corporate training sessions in Israel, the UK, and in the United States. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. For more information, send an e-mail to info@pdshiftcoaching.com, visit the PSC website at www.pdshiftcoaching.com, or call 972-(0)2-641-6673 or 0544-990-619 to arrange a complimentary phone consultation
If you never saw the movie "Groundhog Day", directed by Harold Ramis in 1993, do yourself a favor and rent or buy the DVD. In this movie, Bill Murray plays a TV anchorman who finds himself living the same day, February 2nd (Groundhog Day), over and over again.
At first, he is despondent and self-destructive, and indulges in less than positive behaviors as a result of his predicament. After a few rounds of living the same day, however, he embarks on a campaign of altruism and self-improvement. I won't give away any more details of the movie in case you decide to watch it. Suffice it to say that the film serves as a paradigm of Tshuva (Repentance), and illustrates the vehicle for change as the protagonist's conscious decision to change his thoughts and behavior and thereby enjoy a different outcome.
The changes we make for the new year need not be drastic. For example, altering one's course when flying a plane by only a few degrees leads to a dramatic change in the final destination. Similarly, minor adjustments in one's thought patterns and actions can lead to amazing positive transformations in one's life.
The following are a few examples of small modifications we can make during the upcoming year that can lead to countless positive results:
Thoughts
Keep a journal and note the number of positive thoughts you have during the day versus negative thoughts.
Gently reframe a negative thought into a positive one by creatively viewing the situation from a more proactive perspective.
Anticipate the outcome of a situation as positive instead of a indulging in negative prophecy.
Actions
Go out of your way once a month to do something nice for a family member or a friend.
Remind your family members once a week about some of the things you appreciate about them.
Cultivate a mindset of gratitude by counting your blessings and taking a moment to say thank you before you begin any enjoyable activity.
When we make a small commitment to upgrade our thoughts and actions, then we can anticipate the logical consequences of these modifications. In this way, we won't be destined to living yet another "Groundhog Year". By doing something different, we stand a good chance of not only managing to exit the house by trying a new route, we can transform ourselves into eagles and soar above and beyond our expectations. This plan of action provides us with a fighting chance of moving towards a life filled with infinite growth, balance, contribution, and satisfaction.
**********************
In addition to his personal coaching practice, Ben Goldfarb has led corporate training sessions in Israel, the UK, and in the United States. He is the founder and director of Paradigm Shift Communications. For more information, send an e-mail to info@pdshiftcoaching.com, visit the PSC website at www.pdshiftcoaching.com, or call 972-(0)2-641-6673 or 0544-990-619 to arrange a complimentary phone consultation
Where men are men and women are men
Sometimes we learn fascinating things about ourselves during moments of truth. There is a wealth of self-knowledge that surfaces in situations when we react on instinct alone. Of course, we sometimes make poor decisions when there's plenty of time to weigh the facts, but that's the subject of another column.
I had one of those instinctual moments a few years back while I was in the IDF. Our reserve unit was asked to find a terror suspect in a certain Arab village near Jerusalem.
It had been a long and tough day for me. That morning, I had purchased a tub of Ben and Jerry's® cookies and cream ice cream, and to my dismay, there wasn't even one chunk of dough in the whole container. I'm not making excuses for my behavior, but I think anyone would take this fact into consideration before judging my soldiering that day.
Several of us showed up at the alleged door of the alleged home of the alleged terrorist. First the mother was asked to fill out a 10 page disclaimer form, swearing that she had no relatives in the IDF and thereby invalidating her from winning any of our door prizes. We then presented the mother of the house with a picture of the suspect.
There was a hint of recognition in her eyes that she was trying to hide from us. It was a fair assumption that the man in question was her son.
At that moment, her husband came to the door, took one look at us in our IDF uniforms, and began screaming at his wife. Maybe he was upset that we weren't delivering pizza.
She screamed right back at him. While my understanding of Mandarin Arabic is perfect, they must have been speaking a different Semitic dialect, because I had no clue what they were saying. However, the husband's angry body language left no room for interpretation. Even someone with a low social intelligence could understand that the wife was in for trouble.
What the man did at this point caused me to enter into a surreal, almost slow motion state of being. I've read that emergency room physicians experience similar feelings during a crisis. They perceive time as progressing slowly and this allows them to function quickly and efficiently during a highly pressured shift.
The man slugged his wife and her limp body went crashing against the door frame. Two soldiers supported her and prevented her from falling to the floor, and two other soldiers held me back from attacking the man.
At that moment in time and space, my instincts had transcended all national, cultural and religious affiliations. I was lashing out against a brutal attack against a defenseless female.
Where I come from, men are taught not to hit women under any circumstances. This is a challenging rule at times, because at some Texan hangouts, such as rodeos and truck stops, it's not always easy to tell the genders apart. However, once a Texan gentleman is sure he is dealing with a female, he knows that brutality is not an option.
I wanted to teach this man a lesson. I wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.
"Let's take this outside, homeboy," I shouted at him in English. "I'll put down my gun and let's settle this with our fists. Just you and me."
Who was I trying to kid? Was I trying to be Bruce Willis? Rambo? Davido Rodriquez? (He was a bully in my grade school who became the object of my wrath after he stripped the gears on my brother's bicycle.)
I was naive and overly idealistic. What was I trying to prove with my counter attack? Was I going to teach this guy how to be nice to his wife? Was I going to force him to sign up for a men's group and get back in touch with his feelings?
It's a good thing my army buddies held me back. Had I gone ballistic, I could have spent the rest of my reserve duty in the stockade at best, or started an international incident at worse. Perhaps I just would have made a fool of myself.
While I'm liberal on issues such as ecology, women's rights, and social causes, no one would say that I'm left wing on issues such as Jewish nationalism and settlement, or the Greater Land of Israel ideology. My reaction was not fueled by politics.
So where was I coming from exactly? What could I learn about myself and my instinctual response?
I think I was reacting to the pain the woman must have felt when she was assaulted. I was fighting against ubiquitous injustice. I probably would have reacted the same way in any other setting with other players, in or out of uniform.
Our medic determined that the woman didn't sustain a concussion, and he suggested that the husband take her to the emergency room to run some tests. Something tells me he didn't follow through on this piece of advice.
I was still fuming back in the jeep while my cohorts were finishing the assignment. I occasionally tried to make another run to the house for a little heart-to-heart talk with the "man" of the house. Luckily, I was restrained each time.
With the exception of smoking cigarettes as an 8th grader to look cool, I never adopted the smoking habit. At this moment, however, I really wanted to take a long drag on a Marlboro.
We went back to the base, and after hitting the showers and going back to my barracks, I started to relax. As I was reviewing the events of the abuse I just witnessed and my reaction to it, the medic came into the room with a new tub of Ben and Jerry's ®. Maybe I would be luckier this time.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website at www.pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
I had one of those instinctual moments a few years back while I was in the IDF. Our reserve unit was asked to find a terror suspect in a certain Arab village near Jerusalem.
It had been a long and tough day for me. That morning, I had purchased a tub of Ben and Jerry's® cookies and cream ice cream, and to my dismay, there wasn't even one chunk of dough in the whole container. I'm not making excuses for my behavior, but I think anyone would take this fact into consideration before judging my soldiering that day.
Several of us showed up at the alleged door of the alleged home of the alleged terrorist. First the mother was asked to fill out a 10 page disclaimer form, swearing that she had no relatives in the IDF and thereby invalidating her from winning any of our door prizes. We then presented the mother of the house with a picture of the suspect.
There was a hint of recognition in her eyes that she was trying to hide from us. It was a fair assumption that the man in question was her son.
At that moment, her husband came to the door, took one look at us in our IDF uniforms, and began screaming at his wife. Maybe he was upset that we weren't delivering pizza.
She screamed right back at him. While my understanding of Mandarin Arabic is perfect, they must have been speaking a different Semitic dialect, because I had no clue what they were saying. However, the husband's angry body language left no room for interpretation. Even someone with a low social intelligence could understand that the wife was in for trouble.
What the man did at this point caused me to enter into a surreal, almost slow motion state of being. I've read that emergency room physicians experience similar feelings during a crisis. They perceive time as progressing slowly and this allows them to function quickly and efficiently during a highly pressured shift.
The man slugged his wife and her limp body went crashing against the door frame. Two soldiers supported her and prevented her from falling to the floor, and two other soldiers held me back from attacking the man.
At that moment in time and space, my instincts had transcended all national, cultural and religious affiliations. I was lashing out against a brutal attack against a defenseless female.
Where I come from, men are taught not to hit women under any circumstances. This is a challenging rule at times, because at some Texan hangouts, such as rodeos and truck stops, it's not always easy to tell the genders apart. However, once a Texan gentleman is sure he is dealing with a female, he knows that brutality is not an option.
I wanted to teach this man a lesson. I wanted to give him a taste of his own medicine.
"Let's take this outside, homeboy," I shouted at him in English. "I'll put down my gun and let's settle this with our fists. Just you and me."
Who was I trying to kid? Was I trying to be Bruce Willis? Rambo? Davido Rodriquez? (He was a bully in my grade school who became the object of my wrath after he stripped the gears on my brother's bicycle.)
I was naive and overly idealistic. What was I trying to prove with my counter attack? Was I going to teach this guy how to be nice to his wife? Was I going to force him to sign up for a men's group and get back in touch with his feelings?
It's a good thing my army buddies held me back. Had I gone ballistic, I could have spent the rest of my reserve duty in the stockade at best, or started an international incident at worse. Perhaps I just would have made a fool of myself.
While I'm liberal on issues such as ecology, women's rights, and social causes, no one would say that I'm left wing on issues such as Jewish nationalism and settlement, or the Greater Land of Israel ideology. My reaction was not fueled by politics.
So where was I coming from exactly? What could I learn about myself and my instinctual response?
I think I was reacting to the pain the woman must have felt when she was assaulted. I was fighting against ubiquitous injustice. I probably would have reacted the same way in any other setting with other players, in or out of uniform.
Our medic determined that the woman didn't sustain a concussion, and he suggested that the husband take her to the emergency room to run some tests. Something tells me he didn't follow through on this piece of advice.
I was still fuming back in the jeep while my cohorts were finishing the assignment. I occasionally tried to make another run to the house for a little heart-to-heart talk with the "man" of the house. Luckily, I was restrained each time.
With the exception of smoking cigarettes as an 8th grader to look cool, I never adopted the smoking habit. At this moment, however, I really wanted to take a long drag on a Marlboro.
We went back to the base, and after hitting the showers and going back to my barracks, I started to relax. As I was reviewing the events of the abuse I just witnessed and my reaction to it, the medic came into the room with a new tub of Ben and Jerry's ®. Maybe I would be luckier this time.
-- -- --
Ben Goldfarb was born and raised in El Paso, Texas, and is a graduate of the University of Texas at Austin. He moved to Israel in 1988. He is the founder and director of a personal and corporate coaching company, Paradigm Shift Communications. He has given seminars and trainings at Israel Aircraft Industry and Philips Medical Systems. His book Double Feature: A Nostalgic Peek into the Future will be published in the summer. He lives with his wife and children in Jerusalem. For more information about his coaching practice, visit the Paradigm Shift Communications website at www.pdshiftcoaching.com, or send an email to ben@pdshiftcoaching.com. © Copyright 2008 by Ben Goldfarb
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
