OMGabe

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

Archive for the tag “nonduality”

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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The Pit Of Nirvana

Relief.

That’s the standout feeling at the conclusion of my twenty-five year search for enlightenment.

Phew.

It nearly killed me.

Literally.

And now that I’m here on the other side of the fence, I still find myself skimming through books on enlightenment I’d hope could save me back in the day. Looking for clues I may have missed through my old filter.

But nope.

Just the same snake oil that didn’t help me the first time through.

Except for today.

Today I saw something significant. Something that’s clear as day to me now but made less-than-zero sense before. But it wasn’t written by the author. It’s a quote he used.

How can a figment of the imagination have any effect on anything that is not itself a figment of imagination? Therefore any effect resulting from an act of ‘will’ subject to the ego-concept can only be as imaginary at itself.” – Wei Wu Wei

So what does this mean Gabe?

Whatever. Who cares. It doesn’t matter too much. If at all.

The only thing that matters is what happened after I read that quote.

An ant walked across the page.

It just happened.

Out of nowhere.

Like everything else.

Without our control.

love/thanks,
gb

P.S. And then, right there at Starbucks, a guy walked by me who totally needed to invest in some Mitchum. Stat. He smelled so ungodly awful, he could, as my uncle would say, knock a buzzard off of a shit wagon.

www.WinTheWarWithYourMind.com

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It All Just Bubbles Up


Everything is happening at the same time.

The band at the beach club jams out a groove heavy, heartfelt version of Ain’t No Sunshine.

Kids splash around in the adjacent pool.

Middle aged men and woman, making up the majority of the audience, drink “pain killers” from their sand chairs.

An old woman taps her foot to the beat in her wheelchair.

A young girl, around three or four, walks along side her daddy. She uses her palms to shields her ears from the music.

A first aid crew from the pool sprints to a cabana in the distance – never a good sign.

The woman standing next to me is pregnant. Very pregnant.

After shooing it away a half-dozen times, this bastard of a mosquito lands on my ankle and I swat it to death. I bury it in the sand and I’m not exactly thrilled with myself.

Like an undulating ocean, thoughts enter my head, thoughts leave my head. Enter my head, leave my head. Enter my head, leave my head.

“I wonder what’s going to happen to me next,” bubbles up.

See, the thing is, we think we know what’s going to happen, but we don’t. We make plans, sometimes down to the very last detail, and then life unfolds as it will.

The only thing I know for sure is – the Doobie Brothers had it right. The guitarist just belted out, “Without love, where would we be now?”

In the weeds.

In the weeds at best.

love/thanks,
gb

P.S. The band closed the show with Good Lovin and a super spunky hippie chick grabbed the hand of some teenaged boy who was sitting by himself and they danced together in front of everyone. He has Down’s Syndrome. I still feel his smile. And I’m pretty sure it won’t leave me for quite some time.

Check out my new book here:
The Right Isn’t Right

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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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My True Love

It burns like a bitch.

Suntan lotion in the eye.

The worst.

But yesterday it stung sweetly.

Because it’s a sign of the upcoming summer.

Ahh, summer.

How do I love thee? Let me count the ways.

Is there anyone in your life who is simply in love with love? Love Looks Like This

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Not Thinking, Being Thought

I noticed my hand reach for the iced coffee to the right of my iPad.

I completely wasn’t conscious of it until my fingers felt the condensation on the cup.

Marionette string theory – the end – .

love/thanks,
gb

P.S – Dear Starbucks employee – it’s Gabe. There’s a “e” at the end. Not Gab like flab.
Gabe, you know, like flabe.

The loveliest little goddamn book ever is available here:
Love Looks Like This

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Me Too

  

pick up my lovely little books here:

www.livelikeafruitfly.com

Justin Bieber and Kim Kardashian Are Fucking!


Bubby’s plants must have been thirsty.

It’s been weeks since they’ve been watered.

I was never alone in her place before and, at first, it was a bit unsettling.

Talking to her plants made me feel better pretty quickly though.

I told them not to worry. That I’d take care of them.

I watched her die and was the one to identify her body before it was lowered into the ground, but it was still shocking to me that she wasn’t there. Offering me non-vegetarian food I wouldn’t eat. Asking me, again, if I like All In The Family.

Her toothbrush is still in the bathroom. Her white sneakers are still lined up perfectly in the closest. The package of menthol cough drops I recently bought for her is still on the table next to the recliner – the chair which was once my Pop-pop’s.

I looked around a little more, locked up and left.

I thought about how she’d always walk me to the elevator. Sometimes she’d tell me about all of her friends who have died. But she’d always tell me she loved me as the elevator doors opened. I’d always hug her and say it back.

These sweet moments will forever eclipse, easily, how disappointed she was with me.

I know she couldn’t help it. Nobody can.
It’s okay though.

I know I’m enough.

And regardless of how anyone feels about you or has felt about you, or has made you feel about yourself, please trust me when I say that you’re enough as well.

I swear to god you are.

And I know these are just words on a page, but I hope at some point they really resonate with you. Resonate and then soak deep into your cells and soul.

Because…

You

Are

Enough.

And before anyone jumps down my throat for telling people they shouldn’t try to be better, I assure you I’m not saying that. 

What I’m saying, which should be obvious, is that you don’t exist to prove yourself to anyone. You’re here, regardless of whatever the fuck anyone says, to witness the good in the the world and to add to it as often as you can. The end.

Because our toothbrushes and cough drops and plants and the rest of our stuff will outlive us and none of that shit will matter anymore.

But maybe people will talk about how loving you were. And that certainly doesn’t suck.

Anyway, I got outside and there was a spoon on the floor near my car.

Which is just perfect.

“There is no spoon…” – Neo

thank you all for your sympathy and your love and your time – I am truly grateful,
gb

P.S. I’m sorry about the title. But just a little. Maybe it got someone to read it who needed to.

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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Fuck Matt Damon

You know what, fuck us.

Just, fuck us.

Fuck our whole goddamn species.

I saw The Martian the other night and these were my exact thoughts as the closing credits hit the screen.

Fuck.

Us.

In case you’re not up on the movies, The Martian is a new one starring Matt Damon.

He plays an astronaut who’s left for dead on Mars by his crew. But get this ladies and germs, he’s totally alive. And they totally go back to save him while all of Earth’s inhabitants sit on pins and needles.

It was awesome.

Such an awesome movie.

So awesome that I clapped as soon as it was over.

Nevertheless, fuck us.

It’s so pathetically human to risk everything, without sparing an expense, to save just one person.

As we should.

But what’s so pathetic of us is that within just two klicks of everyone reading this, there’s definitely a kid who went to bed hungry or some old person who’s totally been forgotten about.

And I certainty don’t see any sympathetic mother fuckers forming candlelight vigils in the middle of Times Square for these poor folks as they did for Matt Damon.

C’mon Gabe, it’s just a movie.

No, it’s not just a movie.

It’s our reality and you know it.

But no one’s life is worth more than anyone else’s.

Our species is totally fucking doomed until those nine words become our collective religion:

NO ONE’S LIFE IS WORTH MORE THAN ANYONE ELSE’S

And not to freak anyone out, but I’ll let you in on a metaphysical little secret: there’s truly only one life. And it’s flowing through all of us.

Right now.

In this exact moment.

Life, this perfect, unified, inevitable, ineffable force, is flowing through you and I, through the rich and the famous, the sick and the poor, the birds, the bees, and of course the trees.

And what should we be doing with this one life of ours?

Caring for it. All of it. Because, we are it.

thank you for trading your time for these words – it means the world to me,
gb

buy my goddamn book here: www.livelikeafruitfly.com

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