OMGabe

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

Archive for the category “non-duality”

Exit Reality

Don’t read this if you’re not interested in cleaning out your consciousness.

Still here?

Okay, thanks for sticking around.

Today, while walking into Panera Bread, I slightly smiled when I saw the storefront next door because I thought it said Exit Reality.

But alas, as you can see from the photo, it’s just a real estate agency named Exit Realty.

But before we continue, yes, I know I’m cheating on Starbucks.

Anyway… I’m bothering to bring this up because there’s an important point to be made about human suffering.

Most of human suffering is caused by the thinking mind. And the only way out of this suffering is too deny reality. Exit it. By accepting a new reality. The real reality.

Do I know what that looks like and how to get there?

Yes.

And there’s only one thing you need to do in order to sense the real reality as well:

You just have to allow yourself to listen to me share with you what took me over twenty years to discover. It probably won’t be similar to anything you’ve ever heard before about existence. Click the link below or email me at gabeberman@gmail.com if you’re at all intrigued. I promise, you won’t regret it. And maybe, just maybe, the rest of your life is hinging on it.

With that, I was just getting a refill of iced coffee and I had to wait for a few moments for the half & half because an older gentleman in front of me was slowly adding it to his coffee.

He noticed me and made an effort to hurry it along.

I said, “Take your time. I’m in no rush at all.”

To which he said, without making eye contact because he was concentrating on securing a lid to his cup, “You’ll live a long time with that attitude.”

I answered, “I don’t know about that, but life is definitely too short to make someone feel rushed over milk.”

After I lightened my coffee, I added, “Okay man, have a good one.”

He said, this time with eye contact, “You too. God bless you.”

And that, right there, was more than enough reason to be alive for today.

I am so grateful for this lovely little exchange. And so grateful for anyone reading this who also finds it lovely.

take care, as in, really, take care,
– gabe

www.WinTheWarWithYourMind.com

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Lilies In The Field

It’s been said that we make plans and God laughs.

This might be true.

And if it is, the larger, almost incomprehensible truth behind this truth is that God plans for us to make plans.

So, where does this leave you and me in this moment?

Having the last laugh.

Let’s enjoy it while it lasts.

love/thanks,
gb

www.WinTheWarWithYourMind.com

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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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Biggest Peace

This may mean I’m broken.

But it also may mean I’m whole.

This morning I watched a TED talk on gratitude and the speaker said that after eight years of marriage, she finally realized her husband, upon serving dessert to the family, always gives himself a smaller piece of pie so she could get the biggest.

I completely lost it.

Just lost it.

So, what does this mean about me?

I really don’t know.

And I really don’t care.

Either way, I wouldn’t trade it.

thank you as always,
gb

buy my goddamn books here:
www.LiveLikeAFruitFly.com

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Camel/Needle/Hell

How about this, take a fucking breath.

The two women next to me at Starbucks are whispering, loudly, about money and insurance and properties and about whose husband is doing what.

Enough already.

Enough.

And It’s not just them. It’s basically the only thing I hear from everyone, always.

Listen, I know money is important in this life of ours. I’m not a shmuck.

But c’mon man, can you give it a rest just once in awhile?

Please?

It would be nice to hear someone talk half as passionately about art or music or movies or sex as they do about finances.

But no.

We are a society obsessed.

And we’re all in for a big fat surprise that’s hiding right out in the open.

peace bitches,
gb

buy my goddamn books here:
www.LiveLikeAFruitFly.com

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Bye Bye Bubby

My mom is in the den watching The Martian with her boyfriend.

From the kitchen I can hear David Bowie’s “Starman” pulsing from the TV’s speakers.

Poor Ziggy Stardust.

One day you’re healthy, as right as rain.

Then you feel a lump.

And then you’re dead.

Hopefully you were loved.

Hopefully you loved.

I was thinking exactly this as I held my grandma’s hand as she passed away the other day.

“I love you” was my calm, inner mantra. I repeated it to myself, but for her, as I felt her slip away.

What wrecks me the most about this is how easy it was.

How easy it was for me to just be there for her without dwelling in my own, awful sadness.

I hate that it was easy.

Hate.

And it’s not because she was ninety-four and lived tip-top for ninety-three and a half years. Although, that certainly didn’t hurt.

It was easy because I was face to face with my dad as he breathed in for the last time and watching my grandma die, in comparison, was like buying a snow cone from the ice cream man.

At the cemetery, on a brutally cold day, her pine wood coffin was lowered into the frozen ground and I thought to myself, “And there also goes all of the worthless worry about worthlessness.”

But it wasn’t her fault. She literally couldn’t help it.

Like mostly everyone else, she was operating on autopilot.

I hope more joy and less turbulence unfolds for me before it’s my turn.

And I hope the same for you.

thank you, as always, for joining me here, and please, resist being like everyone else,
gb

buy my goddamn books here:
www.LiveLikeAFruitFly.com

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Still Life (Talking)

Vivaldi.

Coffee.

Sweatpants, sweatshirt, warm slippers.

A squirrel is squirreling in the grass outside the kitchen window.

Moss outlines the bricks of the brick patio.

Sunlight.

Shadows.

My mind?

At ease and still, like a painting of a pond.

But in a moment, the old ghosts return to haunt. I should be succeeding. Vanquishing. Proving myself. Making better use of the time.

Hmm, something is definitely different today though. The ghosts are just empty sheets with holes cut out for eyes.

They’re no longer the leads in this play and leave the stage just as quickly as they entered the scene.

Although I’ve been strangled by the feeling of insufficiency for as long as I’ve had language, the urge to impress anyone, even myself, now feels prehistoric.

I am enough.

Right here, right now, I am enough.

And I don’t care who else is on board with this. The squirrel knows what’s up though.

I am enough.

I certainty don’t invite it, but death could come today and I’d be okay with it.

I am complete.

I always have been.

And so are you.

In Live Like a Fruit Fly, Gabe Berman shares his recipe for living a more joyful, worthwhile, and abundant life in every way. A witty, entertaining, and insightful read.” ―Deepak Chopra, Author, The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success

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Who’s Reading This? 

  

How I Wish You Were Here

Just giving you a heads up, this isn’t going to be worth reading.

And yes, I know that sounds like a ploy to actually get you to read, but I swear it’s not.

It’s just something I know I need to write, so I’m going to. But it’s not going to be good. I really have nothing of value to say to anyone right now.

I’m just sitting here. On the couch. In the dark. Watching Good Will Hunting. With tears in my eyes.

A perfect movie. Which I won’t do a disservice to by talking about.

It’s just perfect, that’s all.

Especially tonight.

At the end of this day.

Three years exactly since I stood over my dad and watched him take his last breath.

I miss him so much.

Also, coincidentally, today is the day that I found out that I’m not sick.

I had a bit of a health scare but like I said, I’m good.

Before I was wheeled in for the endoscopy, a few days after the esophagram I had to have, I thought about the time in college I had surgery on my right arm after breaking it rollerblading.
I dreamt of Pink Floyd’s Wish You Were during the operation. At least, I thought I was dreaming about it. In reality, I was waking up from the anesthesia and the doctors were listening to it in the operating room.

And check this out, a moment before they induced me into to la la land today, I noticed a framed photo of the moon on the wall. The caption read: The dark side of the mood?

More evidence pointing to how the universe is intricately connected and more proof that every “coincidence” is a reminder of that connection. Winks from an ineffable intelligence.

And, just maybe, a wink from my dad. Letting me know it’s all going to be okay.

Which, I’m so grateful to say, it was. Is.

love/thanks,
gb

“Just do what’s in your heart son, you’ll be fine.” – Sean Maguire to Will Hunting. And just maybe, another wink from my dad to me. I’ll choose to believe it was.

www.LiveLikeAFruitFly.com

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Vengeance Is “Mine”


I thought about crushing his legs between my car and the Mercedes in front of me, but only for a fleeting moment.

It wasn’t really me though. Just a few thousand rouge neurons, out of the trillions in my brain, firing with fiery rage.

I was stuck in traffic and saw a guy blatantly toss a food wrapper to the ground.

He proceeded to cross the street, right in front of my car, and I really wanted to be karma’s delivery boy.

Crunch.

There you go mother fucker.

There.

You.

Go.

Littering career: over.

Thank you very little.

“Gabe, this isn’t very spiritual of you. This isn’t the Gabe I know. You’ve disappointed me.”

Good. Go read someone else’s words.

I don’t exist to offer sugary spoonfuls of what you’re expecting to hear.

(Obviously I’m not talking to you. I’m addressing everyone else but you).

I only exist as this expression of existence and sometimes this expression of existence is tempted to express itself as the righter of wrongs.

And sometimes I do.

But I swear, it’s out of love. The toughest of love. For all involved.

If not me, then who?

Right, there’s you.

Thank god for you.

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