OMGabe

by Gabe Berman – the author of Live Like a Fruit Fly

“Mr. Nobody”

“I’m not afraid of death. I’m afraid I haven’t been alive enough.”

I sat on the edge of my bed – totally petrified.

Not frightened, but silent and still, like stone. Mesmerized by that quote above.

I heard it at the end of a movie trailer I was watching on my phone just a moment before.

“I’m not afraid of death. I’m afraid I haven’t been alive enough.”

Those words landed in the center of the center of the bullseye so they didn’t even need to be thought about.

They just hung in the air in front of me like conspicuous Himalayan prayer flags.

But they evaporated in an instant when my eyes caught an unexpected sight in their periphery.

It was like a glitch in the Matrix.

A World War II bayonet rested beside my bed.

I felt neurons rushing to make their calculations.

Ah, yes.

My mom and sister were going through boxes of old stuff today and one of them must have left it there for me.

It was my dad’s.

He inherited from his dad who guarded Nazi prisoners with it.

They’re both dead now.

And now it’s mine.

I can’t speak for my grandfather (Abraham Berman) but when my dad (Harold Berman) got sick, he told me that he lived long enough and all he cared about at that point was his family not having to see him suffer.

How brave and beautiful and selfless.

It didn’t even occur to him to worry about suffering. His first thought, as always, was about my mom and my sister and me.

But he didn’t get his wish.

I was imprinted with his suffering. Tattooed permanently by it.

And at this point, I’m not afraid of dying either. I just hope that I (Gabriel Berman) will be alive enough to truly live.

And I hope the same for you.

with love and gratitude,
gb

If you haven’t read this yet, it’s time:
Live Like A Fruit Fly

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You Couldn’t Help It 

  
LOVE LOOKS LIKE THIS

S. Redemption 

  
love looks like this 

Gabe Proof Through The Night

Alone I sat on the beach again.

Alone I sat, but in a huge crowd, as the Fourth Of July fireworks illuminated the night sky.

And on the drive home, I thought about why we all crave to be in love.

Crave it like junkies in withdrawal.

I think it’s because being in love is the only thing that can rival the feeling of being young.

Because when you’re in love, and I mean cosmically coordinated, quantumly entangled, unconditionally expressed, star crossed love, time loses all relevance. The years behind you become a concept. An illusion.

And the present moment becomes bright and attention grabbing like it’s been filtered in Photoshop.

Of course in the car tonight, I also let myself lie naked in the center of the massive crater left behind by the absence of my dad.

If I were anymore heartbroken, I’d cease.

Totally cease.

As for right now, I’m sitting in his seat at the dining room table, listening to Kind Of Blue by Miles, and the only thing I can think to do is send him love.

I have enough, more than enough, for you as well.

with gratitude,
gb

Your loved ones will love this from you: Love Looks Like This

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Can We Handle The Truth?

In thirty-nine minutes, it’s my dad’s birthday.

Harold Berman.

He would have been seventy-four.

If he hadn’t gotten sick, I’d probably be in Florida right now. And I’d call him tomorrow, like nine hundred times, to wish him happy birthday.

But I flew back to New York the day he was diagnosed. And here I remain. For now.

I still hear him in the back of my head. As clear as ever. Behind my ears. As I always have.

Not in words exactly, but in silent feelings. I can feel his feelings. And they guide me through decisions and situations. Although, obviously and unfortunately, I can’t call him after the fact anymore.

And I hate that.

Hate.

When I was young my dad told me I shouldn’t use the word “hate” because it’s too strong of a word.

Well dad, I really mean it this time.

More so than I ever.

Because all I can do is sit here, listening to Brubeck – your favorite, while writing to a few good people who are now reading these words.

So what would you like me to pass on to them?

You’d often say there are three sides to every story – my side, your side and the right side. The truth.

So, what’s the truth here?

It feels like, behind my ear, the truth is that only love is real.

But maybe that’s good-ol-fashion bullshit.

Because the fear, and greed, and evil in this world, sure as hell seems just as real.

Wait.

Ahh, I got it.

I can hear you more clearly now dad.

Love might not be the only thing that’s real, but it’s certainly the only thing that matters.

And I love you.

Beyond.

And miss you.

Excruciatingly so.

And I love you too, dear readers, for being here with me in this moment.

I’m truly grateful for you – and that’s the truth as well,
gb

Happy Birthday Dad.

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Feel No Evil

  
Live Like A Fruit Fly 

Roy G. Biv

Aggressively, I pulled over to the side of road like a cop on Cops and jettisoned out of my car like it was about to explode – super nova style.

Everything was cool though. It’s just that I saw a rainbow that seemed CGI. Completely computerized. Luminous, crisp and perfect.

And this is right around the time you ask, “Gabe, are you really taking up my time to talk about a goddamn rainbow?!”

No.

Well, yes and no.

I wouldn’t have written a word about if I hadn’t received multiple texts from a few friends as I clicked pics of the overhead magnificence.

A few lovely people in my life wanted to make sure I wasn’t missing out on such a transcendent site. Because they know that’s what I’m all about – noticing beauty in between the shit.

And just the fact that a few people were looking up at the same time, in awe, and thought to share it with me and god knows who else, almost moved me to tears.

It’s just too damn beautiful.

Especially with the new Paul Simon album in my headphones as I write this.

He just sang, “I trade my tears to ask The Lord for proof of love. If only for the consolation of gazing at the stars above…I ask The Lord for proof of love. Love is all I seek. Love is all I seek.”

Prayer answered. Right in those texts.

And I am so very grateful for them.

In this moment, all I am is gratefulness.

thank you, so much, for sharing this moment with me,
gb

Get my new book, Love Looks Like This

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Failure or Success? 

  

Jesus Picks His Nose

God wanted me to cram two egg and cheese bagels down my gullet this morning.

How do I know the divine’s hand intervened in my breakfast?

Because I ordered one bagel with two eggs and cheese from Dunkin’ Donuts and they handed me two bagels with eggs and cheese instead.

So, of course, I ate them both.

I mean, who am I to get in The Lord’s way?

Or, maybe, it was a test. To see if I’d actually exercise willpower in this situation and abstain from the second engulfing.

But I don’t think so.

Although, there’s really no way to be sure.

Maybe we’re not actually choosing between our choices. And if that’s the case, it would be more accurate to say that “we’re” not actually choosing between “our” choices.

Because what mystics and masters have been saying for thousands of years is now being proven by quantum physics: there’s only one of us.

Everything is one.

The seemingly separateness of the universe is an elaborate illusion.

With that out of the way, I happen to be at a Dunkin’ because one phone call lead to another, which lead me (or “me”) to walking into an auto mechanic shop which lead me to another. And since my car is there now, here I sit and wait.

About an hour ago, I felt something dangling around in my left nostril so I tried to surreptitiously fish it out with a napkin.

I looked up to see if there were any witnesses but all I noticed was an adorable little Asian boy being held by his mommy. And he, perfectly so, was also picking his nose.

Thirty minutes later, a knockout blonde wearing workout clothes waltzed in.

As I was checking her out, a guy working being the counter was also giving her the ol’ up-and-down. And then, like it was happening in a movie, the guy behind the counter gave me a quick look as if to say, “Hey brother, it’s a damn good day, right?”

These events, seemingly so insignificant, mean everything to me.

Because nothing is insignificant in oneness.

Especially with you and I.

Regardless of “space” and “time”.

And that’s one to grow on,

gb

P.S. It’s now many hours later. After intense but rapid deliberation, I decided not to fix my car. Instead, I just hopped in a brand new one for a test spin. And I’m not sure what this means, but the song that came on as soon as I turned on the radio was R.E.M.’s “It’s The End Of The World As We Know It”

P.P.S Thank god for that second bagel because I’ve been at the dealership all damn day and haven’t had a bite to eat since.

P.P.P.S “And I feel fine.”

The loveliest little book you’ll ever own is to be bought here:
<a href=”http://www.amazon.com/Love-Looks-Like-This-Berman/dp/0692665382/ref=sr_1_1?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1459204514&sr=1-1&keywords=love+looks+like+this
“>Love Looks Like This

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The Long Island Medium

Unequivocally, I received a message from my dad tonight.

Some people will chalk this up to coincidence or randomness and I have to tell you, I have as much concern about that as I do for the dreams of mosquitos.

I was going to meet a friend at the diner to have one of our late night chats about life but she had to cancel at the last minute because her friend was going into labor and didn’t want to be alone in the hospital.

So, I stretched out on the couch and switched on the TV.

I clicked around until I found thirty minutes left of Apocolypto.

And although I wasn’t in the mood for the violence and stress of it, I tossed the remote to the side and watched until the closing credits.

I did it for my dad.

He loved this movie so much.

It was his cinematic crack pipe – he couldn’t put it down once it was in front of him. Regardless if my mom rushed out of the room frustratedly saying, “Harold, how many times are you going to watch this?”

She hated the violence and stress of it.

And since I decided to keep it on for my dad, I secretly hoped in my heart for a serendipitous message to reveal itself because, between you and I, I was suffering from an unspecific uneasiness underneath my skin.

But I got jipped.

No wisdom. No insights. No nothing, aside from Mel Gibson’s shmucky name staining the screen.

But as destiny and/or fate would have it, the movie started over again and since Apocolypto is one of those flicks you’d normally only catch from the middle, I let it roll.

And then, within the first few minutes, a message from the heavens was revealed in the lines of dialogue between the village elder Flint Sky and his son Jaguar Paw.

– Flint Sky: Those people in the forest, what did you see on them?

– Jaguar Paw: I do not understand.

– Flint Sky: Fear. Deep rotting fear. They were infected by it. Did you see? Fear is a sickness. It will crawl into the soul of anyone who engages it. It has tainted your peace already. I did not raise you to see you live with fear. Strike it from your heart. Do not bring it into our village.

That was my dad talking to me. Right there.

I shut off the TV and here I am writing to you now, with a few tears in my eyes.

Fear, I’m going to conquer it.

I owe it to myself.

I owe to others.

I’m already almost there.

love/thanks and fearlessness,
gb

Love Looks Like This

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