Stop Making Yourself Miserable
As we ended the last episode, the doctor had told me to eat, and oh man, did I start eating. Looking back on it, I call it ‘Healing in the Beehive,” because they put me on a standard American diet loaded with carbohydrates and sugar. And I loved every bit of it. Cheeseburgers, tuna melt sandwiches, cookies, cake, pie a la mode. You name it. It was like going down a nostalgic memory lane of the favorite foods of my childhood. I stayed in the hospital for a total of ten days. They explained to me that I had suffered a massive stroke, but for some reason, call it grace, luck or both, the...
info_outlineStop Making Yourself Miserable
Now I was back on my own, just me, myself, and I. But my attention stayed with my breath as it continued to flow in and out of me. “As long as I’m breathing, I’ll know that I’m still alive,” I thought. Now, I had been meditating for many, many years, and part of that practice is to focus on your breath, but this was completely different. Before, the breath was a calming presence. Now, it was literally my lifeline. Breathing no longer felt like an automatic process and I made no assumptions about it. As each breath went out,...
info_outlineStop Making Yourself Miserable
This is the fourth episode in a series based on my upcoming book, The Friend at the End, which tells the story of the major stroke that I suffered in 2011, which very nearly killed me. In the last episode, I had continued my inner conversation with an unseen presence who had begun to introduce me to the idea that I might be dying. He suggested that I make the effort to get ready, but as I started to consider the idea, I had some trouble with it and felt like I was failing. Then the presence said to me, “Here, let me help you with this. Did ‘ja learn...
info_outlineStop Making Yourself Miserable
This is the third episode in a series based on my upcoming book, The Friend at the End, which tells the story of the major stroke that I suffered in 2011, which very nearly killed me. In the last episode, I had gone down to the pool at our condo for the first day of summer, but I started feeling kind of queasy. My condition worsened, and at one point, to my shock, I lost my eyesight and thought I was going blind. I soon realized that not only was I in the midst a truly serious health crisis, I was also having a seemingly telepathic...
info_outlineStop Making Yourself Miserable
(Reprise Episode) This episode is the second in a series of excerpts from my upcoming book, “The Friend at the End,” which tells the story of the major stroke that I suffered in 2011. As the first episode began, I was 62 years old, at a wonderful stage in my life, with everything safe and secure. It was the Saturday of Memorial Day weekend and I was looking forward to the summer, which was just over the horizon. But when I had gone down to the pool at our condo, after a short while, I started feeling a little nauseous. Soon after, an unusual and disturbing...
info_outlineStop Making Yourself Miserable
As you may recall, we are in the process of preparing for the release of our new program which will be called The NeuroHarmonic Method – Harmonize Your Intelligence – Transform Your Life, and one of the key parts of the method is learning how to learn the higher lessons that we are currently learning in our lives. Now, we don’t have time here to go deeply into what this idea means. Let’s just say that Timeless Wisdom tells us that we are each here to learn how to be better human beings and that we each have lessons that we are currently learning that will help take us in...
info_outlineStop Making Yourself Miserable
A Joyful Opportunity On a certain level, we human beings are quite an accomplished species. And this is because there is a key part to our consciousness that is always trying to improve, always trying to make things better. We call this our striving mind and without it, we’d still be living up in trees, let alone in caves. But like every other part of our awareness this can be a real double-edged sword, causing us every bit as much suffering as it does happiness. But when it comes to striving, it so happens that we have another part of our awareness that is on a completely different...
info_outlineStop Making Yourself Miserable
Drinking a One-Two Punch In an earlier episode, I mentioned that between the ages of five and eight, my older brother used to take me to the Saturday afternoon matinees at a large movie theatre near our home in Northeast Philadelphia. Those outings were magical — the darkened theatre, the smell of popcorn, and the giant screen that opened windows to worlds far beyond my own. As I shared before, I saw some of the great science fiction classics of the 1950s, films that made an indelible impression on my young mind — impressions that, in some ways, have stayed with me ever since. In that...
info_outlineStop Making Yourself Miserable
This is the final episode in our three-part series on the life and teachings of Walter Russell, presented in connection with our upcoming project – The NeuroHarmonic Method. Born into extremely disadvantaged circumstances and with no formal education beyond the fourth grade, Russell nevertheless achieved so much that Thomas J. Watson Sr., the founder of IBM, once remarked that it would take seven lifetimes of masterful effort to equal his accomplishments. Over the years, admirers have often described him as a kind of modern Leonardo da Vinci—a self-taught genius whose creativity spanned...
info_outlineStop Making Yourself Miserable
In this episode, we continue exploring Walter Russell in the context of the upcoming release of the NeuroHarmonic Method. Once again, the key point is that while Russell—who passed away in 1963 and is still regarded as one of the most accomplished figures in history, was a fourth grade drop out who always gave full credit for his success to his ability to tap into the intelligence of the higher power within him. When I first began researching Russell several years ago, I came across a book called The Man Who Tapped the Secrets of the Universe. Its author had spent considerable time...
info_outlineAs the last episode ended, I was beginning my return to normal life after the unexpected death of my father. The unanticipated event had turned my entire world upside down.
After remaining home for a one-week mourning period, when I returned to normal life, everything was exactly the same as it had been when I left it. Same classes. Same teachers. Same friends. Everything was the same. Except nothing was the same and it would never be again. It’s a terrible feeling and everyone who has experienced the early stages of deep grief is painfully aware of it.
However, there was one thing that was radically different in my new daily routine, which was that I was now going to synagogue every morning and every night and would be doing it for eleven months. The same held true for my brother, who was eight years older than me.
It was a big eight years at that age because while I was in the middle of high school and living the life of a teenager, he was in his last year of law school, had been married for a few years, and his wife was about six weeks away from giving birth to their first child.
But even so, we had always done everything together. We even lived in the same room in our house until he moved out for college. So naturally, we started attending the daily service together.
Very early in the process, I came to understand that while the ritual of saying the mourner’s prayer is ostensibly to honor the dead, in reality, it provides a tremendous benefit for the living survivors. It was an enormous help to me on several key levels, and the most important one for me was that the rabbi of this particular synagogue was truly a spiritual giant. We got to spend an enormous amount of time with him and became extremely close.
So, that new way of life began for me in the second week of December of 1965. Let’s jump ahead almost six months later to the end of May of 1966. As I’ve said, we have an enormous amount of resiliency at that age, and even with all the trauma around the death, I was still having a great year at school.
My brother, Mike and I had been attending services every morning and night. We never missed a service and we intended to keep it that way, but suddenly something came up that was going to be an insurmountable problem for him.
His last year of law school was coming to an end and soon, it would be time for him to take the bar exam. A two-day cram course was being offered that went until nine each evening and he was going to have to miss services for two nights.
It was upsetting to him but there was no away around it and it absolutely had to happen. The first night came and I attended the service without him. It really was no big deal and I didn’t pay any attention to it.
It was a normal night. I ate dinner with my mother, went to the synagogue and said the prayer, came home and did my homework and eventually got washed and went to bed. Then, one of the strangest things that has ever happened to me took place
For some reason, I didn’t feel tired at all and thought I was going to have some trouble falling asleep. I was just lying there, and the next thing I knew, I suddenly found myself back in the chapel of the synagogue once again. It was a strange sensation because I felt like I had actually gone back in time. The events that had just happened a few hours earlier started happening again. It was like watching an instant replay, but instead of just watching it, I was living through it.
Everything happened exactly as it had, just a few hours earlier. Services ended, and I walked out of the chapel. But this time, when I entered the main lobby, I heard a sharp sound. “Psst! Psst!” It was clear to me that whatever that replay had been was over. I knew I was in new territory because nothing like this had happened earlier.
The sound came from my left. I looked over at the dark corner near the sanctuary doors and suddenly, my father stepped out of the shadows.
Amazed, I walked right over to him. As I got closer, he gave me a warm smile and I was struck by how great he looked. He was wearing a gray suit with a purple shirt. The collar was opened, and he had a dark, healthy suntan like he had been in the Caribbean or Hawaii for a few months. He also seemed a little younger, with slightly more hair, which was slicked back. In short, he looked tremendous.
“Where’s Michael?” he asked, as soon as I got close.
“Oh, he couldn’t come tonight,” I said. “He has to study for the bar exam. They’re having a cram course, and tonight’s the first class.”
“Oh, right, right. That’s good,” he said, sounding like he knew exactly what I was talking about. “He’ll pass it. He’ll do fine. He’s going to become a lawyer, and he’ll go right into the firm. Everything’s going to work out well for him.” Then he got a little serious. “But, watch out for your sister, though,” he said soberly. “She’s not doing so great.”
“Sybil?” I wondered. “What’s the matter with Sybil?”
I didn’t say anything, but as I thought about it, I remembered that she had never shown any emotion after he died. She had been extremely stoic, always stone-faced and never crying or even shedding a tear. Maybe that had something to do with whatever it was he was talking about.
“Oh yeah,” I said. “She didn’t show any emotion after you d—”
I was just about to say the word died, when the impossibility of what was happening hit me like a ton of bricks. Suddenly I remembered the actual truth of the matter – that he was, in fact, dead.
I guess I had been so glad to see him, I hadn’t realized it at first. But now it all came rushing came back into me. The reason I hadn’t seen him for all this time wasn’t that he had been away on some tropical island. It was because he had dropped dead on the floor of the Boston Garden six months earlier. He was long since dead and buried. Yet here he was, standing in the synagogue lobby, happy and healthy and talking to me like everything was normal.
“Wait a minute, wait a minute,” I exclaimed. “What are you doing here? You’re dead!”
“No,” he said, with a slight chuckle. “No, no. That wasn’t real.”
“What?” I asked.
“It was just a trick,” he replied. “It wasn’t real.”
“What do you mean, it wasn’t real?” I shot back, a little perturbed. “Of course, it was real!”
How could he say it wasn’t real? It was the worst thing that had ever happened to me. Everything about it was a nightmare. Our family was completely devastated, and since then, we had gone through month after month of relentless pain. I wished to God it wasn’t real, but unfortunately, it was as real as it gets.
“You died. You’re dead,” I blurted out, even more upset. “It was terrible. There was this big funeral, and everyone was hysterical. It was awful.” An enormous rush of pain welled up inside of me. “It was horrible. You died! We buried you and you’re dead!”
I was ready to break down in tears. But then, just like old times, he made his familiar gesture and held up his right hand, signaling me to calm down and listen to him. Just seeing him do it made me feel a little better.
“It wasn’t real,” he said, calmly. “It was just a trick.”
“What are you talking about?” I asked, bewildered.
“A trick. You know a stunt, a gimmick.”
I still had no idea what he meant, but I didn’t say anything.
“Listen to me,” he said, sympathetically. “There is no death. It’s just a public-relations stunt God does to get people to think about him. That’s all it is. It’s not real.”
I didn’t know what to say. There was absolutely, positively no question about the fact that he had died. It was irrefutable. And yet here he was—alive and well, telling me it was all just a stunt. As confident as ever, he certainly looked like he knew what he was talking about. He looked great. In fact, I’d never seen him look better.
“See?” he said, with a smile. “It’s all just a trick.” Then he added, “Some trick!”
At that point, my mind went blank. I don’t think I could think anymore, and frankly, I didn’t care. It was just such a relief to be with him again and listen to him explain something to me. It didn’t matter if I understood it or not.
As I looked at him, I realized I had forgotten how much I really missed him. I hadn’t seen him for six months. It had been an eternity of constant pain and I had gotten used to it. But now, alive or dead, we were back together again, and the pain was gone. I was happy and felt like my old self again - two long-lost and long-forgotten feelings.
He looked at me with a warm smile for a moment. “I see you’re wearing my ring,” he said, looking down at my right hand. He used to wear a black star sapphire pinky ring that he got when he went to the Japan Olympics to sign Luke Jackson to the 76ers. My mother gave it to me after he died, and I wore it every day.
“Listen,” he said somewhat soberly. “The stone in that ring has a vibration that’s bad for your body. I don’t want you to wear it anymore.” I didn’t say anything.
Then his face lit up. “Hey! I’ve got an idea,” he said. “Since I never really died, why don’t you give it back to me?”
Without giving it a second thought, I took the ring off and held it up between the thumb and forefinger of my right hand. He reached up and held it exactly the same way. I thought he was going to take it, but he didn’t. Instead, we both stood there, holding the ring between us, like a statue.
After a moment, I felt it start to vibrate. Then, like an instrument being tuned to a higher note, something within me quickened. The ring began to glow, getting brighter by degrees until eventually, the whole room was filled with a brilliant light.
But it was more than just a light. I could sense a happy presence to it, a warm beauty that was extremely comforting. And it felt familiar to me as well, like I knew it from somewhere - another time and place from long before my memory began.
I felt myself being slowly pulled into it, as though it had its own field of gravity. It got stronger, like the current of a river nearing the ocean, and the light got even brighter. The more light I saw, the lighter I felt, along with a deep sense of happiness and joy. And finally, an all-encompassing love enveloped me, and I lost all contact with space and time.
I have no idea how long it lasted, but I finally began to regain awareness of my body. There was a gentle transition, almost like the physical world gelled into reality around me and I found that I was laying in my bed, wearing my pajamas. It took a little more time, but I soon realized it had all been just a dream.
Soon, I was completely back in the real world. Obviously, my life was unchanged, and my father was still dead. Naturally, I was disappointed. As fulfilling as the experience had been, I quickly understood that the whole thing had been just a fantasy that my mind had created in my sleep.
Even so, it had been a deeply wonderful experience to feel happy again. It was the first time since the night he died, that the heavy burden that I constantly felt was lifted from my heart. For those few moments, I had gotten to be my old self again and realized that I had completely forgotten the way life used to be, before the road had turned, and I had come upon the Vale of Tears.
Now you may be thinking, “OK. So what’s the big deal? You had a happy dream that your father was still alive. Why is that one of the most amazing things that has ever happened to you?”
All I can say is, we’ll get into that in the coming episode. For now, keep your eyes, mind, and heart open, and let’s get together in the next one.