What do you fear?

Okay, so I lied. Maybe I am not yet ready to blow the lid on my deepest darkest secrets. Not just yet. Why? It's simple. What is the reason for anything we choose not to do in our lives? Fear.

Fears and phobias interest me no end. Fear is ultimately an illusion set by our Opponent. Fear is never real - it doesn't exist. Only our perception of fear exists. Fear keeps us from doing the things that we want to do, from being all that we can be. As Eleanor Roosevelt said "You gain strength, courage and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face"

Our minds are programmed from birth to help us survive. Our parents (hopefully) teach us the limitations of our mortal being and our brains record the warning message for future reference in a file marked "keeps me in one piece". Which is very handy if you want to avoid regular trips to your local Accident and Emergency Unit.

Unfortunately our brains also store a whole heap of other messages using the exact same methods which do nothing more than offer us the illusion of being safe. What messages we build in to this internal belief system greatly determines how we live our lives.

A large part of my fear, which I believe that is shared by so many others - such is human nature - is the fear of rejection. Funnily enough, when researching the topic of fear and phobias, I have found that there isn't actually a name for fear of rejection. I feared that might happen. The closest recommendation in naming is Kakorrhaphiophobia - the fear of failure or defeat. Well I certainly failed in finding a name for the fear of rejection, that's for sure (although I can't say in this instance that I actually feared it).

So what else do I fear? Probably high on my list at the moment are:

Chronophobia - fear of time

Peniaphobia - No, not phallophobia - Peniaphobia: the fear of poverty!

Rhytiphobia - fear of getting wrinkles; and

Monophobia - fear of being alone (which is also bizarrely defined as the fear of menstruation - a fear that I have long since overcome).

All I can say is: I am so lucky. Who would want to suffer from the following?

Anablephobia - the fear of looking up. Derived from reading Chicken Licken.

Anthophobia - the fear of flowers. Derived from watching Day of the Triffids.

Arachibutyropiaphobia - the fear of peanut butter sticking to the roof of your mouth. Hmm.

Aulophobia - the fear of flutes. But there is no mention of fear of oboes. I would be much more wary of oboes.

Asymmetriphobia - the fear of asymmetrical things. Is this a tessellation issue?

Cathisophobia - the fear of sitting. Is that why psychiatrists have couches?

Cnidophobia - the fear of strings. Thank heavens for sticky tape.

Geniophobia - the fear of chins. Just chins in general? Just one chin or multiple? What about turkey neck?

Genuphobia - the fear of knees. Knobbly Knees competitions have a lot to answer for.

Lutraphobia - the fear of otters. No mention of stoats or pine martens. What did the otters do wrong?

Metallophobia - the fear of metal. This would make life a tad difficult.

Namatophobia - the fear of names. This would make life even more difficult.

Numerophobia - the fear of numbers. Mainly experienced by women approaching birthdays.

Ostraconophobia - the fear of shellfish. Perfectly reasonable after a plate of dodgy prawns.

Pogonophobia - the fear of beards. Is this really a fear of chins in disguise?

Selenophobia - fear of the moon. Fair enough.

Even worse, you could suffer from Panophobia - the fear of everything, or from Phobophobia - the fear of phobias.

The list goes on.

Every fear has an underlying cause. What seems ridiculous to one is perfectly justified by another, so despite the list above, I do not mock.

Unlike the person who invented the term Hippopotomonstrosesquippedaliophobia - the fear of long words. Cruel. Very cruel.

Celebrating your Greatness

With the excitement of building our Vessel - our potential for receiving - for the New Year at Rosh Hashanah, and enduring the fast for Yom Kippur whilst our case for living another year was read, you would think that everything would be done and dusted and life would be up (or down) from here. Not so. There is yet more Light to be revealed.

This shabbat is the day of Sukkot. At the back of the centre, a Sukkah has been built - a temporary structure with a roof made of twigs. Last night the Sukkah was being decorated with fruit, berries and fragrant flowers and for this week the male Chevre will be sleeping and eating within the Sukkah to draw the energy.

The energy is that of Surrounding Light. We've built the vessel, and now is the time to determine how our desires will come to us and build a wonderful protective shield.

The energy in the Sukkah is phenomenal. That's the only way to describe it. As a person who spends 99% of my time crunching solutions and outcomes and options in my brain, it is a wonder to me to walk in to an outside hut and feel my hands immediately start to tingle with energy.

After investigating the Sukkah and helping to stick the edges of some delicate fabric leaves to the wall (and with my hands still buzzing), I went back upstairs to mentor the Kabbalah 2 class.

The students were thrown straight in to a workshop. Picture this: You are on the Titanic. It has struck an iceberg and is sinking fast. Everyone is screaming, running around the deck and looking for lifeboats. Finally you find the last lifeboat about to be lowered in to the water. There is one seat left. If you take the seat, you will live. If you don't take the seat, you will definitely die.

Without debate, each person on the table will state their case for taking the last seat on the lifeboat. When all cases have been presented, each person will vote. You can abstain from making a case for yourself, and you can also vote for yourself.

That's a tough one, isn't it? Validating why you should live above everybody else on the table? Most responses were very humble: "I have no reason above anyone else to be here", some were very sharing "I promise that I will take care of the emotional and financial needs of the families of those left behind" and some were bold and humorous "I am gay. I am the eldest. I still need to fight the cause"

The sharing person won the vote 4:1 (he didn't vote for himself)

The teacher then quizzed each table to find out who won, and why. When it got to our table, he said "so hang on a minute - each of you are saying that this man is in a better position to look after your kids and family than you are? Okay, so sorry kids, I have to die, but here's George to take my place. He's a great replacement and will provide for all your needs!! Don't you think your kids would rather have you instead of him?"

He then explained the meaning behind the workshop.

Every single person is born and destined to change the world in some way. There are many negative sides to the Ego - Anger, Fear, Rage, Revenge, Pride, Laziness, Greed - but the deepest, darkest and most dangerous side to the Ego is simply to diminish how great we can be. It is virtually denying what we came here to do.

If each of us were asked "If you had four wishes that if granted would change the world, what would they be?" we would all find it easy to answer "End Starvation and Poverty, Heal the Planet, End War, .... " We all want these things to happen - and isn't that lovely?! But what are we actually doing about it?

When it comes to taking action, most of us (and I include myself in this) start making excuses. We become mediocre. We think 'tomorrow'. We think 'I would, if someone else will pave the way'.

The truth is that there is nothing more painful than being empty to what we are supposed to be. We can correct anger, overcome fears, become more sharing - all of these things are correctable. But when we come to the point of our deaths (and I hate to be morbid, but let's face it, physical death is kind of inevitable and totally unpredictable to boot) what we can't undo is what we should have done, but didn't.

But whilst you're still here... there is always time to step up to the plate.

Ask yourself: "Who am I and who should I have been by now if I hadn't been playing so small?"

This needn't be "I am here to single-handedly end World Poverty". What about "I am here to be a great mother"? or "I am here to help other people understand the difficulties of (insert challenging situation here)" or "I am here to be a great neighbour and build a stronger community" or "I am here to help raise funds for..."

In the classroom each student was asked to reconsider their campaign, then step to the front of the class and state their case for the final seat on the life raft, in to the microphone. The campaigns were totally different. People started to shine. Little flecks of their potential greatness started to show in their eyes and their posture. Some people didn't really know why they were here, but wanted to hang around long enough to truly find out. But each person gave a valid campaign.

And then out of the blue, the mentors (who had previously not been a part of this exercise) were called up to state their own cases. Once again, I was totally unprepared and hadn't thought through what I was going to say. When I stood up, I almost felt the room spin and felt all eyes upon me. It was a small, warm room. My hands started to instantly shake and I started to babble.

'Well,' I said, 'I NEED to be on the lifeboat because it has, er, taken nearly, er, 40 years to overcome my fears, and I am about to start helping other people overcome their fears andthatiswhyIneedtobeonthelifeboat'

I sat down. That wasn't what I wanted to say at all. And since last night my overactive brain has been chewing on what I did want to say, why I wanted to say it, and why I didn't say it. But for that, you will need to wait until tomorrow. Brace yourself.

In the meantime, start celebrating YOUR Greatness! In the midst of guilt about all of the things you could BE, don't forget who you already ARE, what you already HAVE and what you have already DONE!!

All change

Last night after posting my blog I went to bed, thinking. After the conversation I'd had with my sister, and the recent sudden urges to walk out of the front door and keep walking, I knew that something was about to give.

Two and a half years ago I begged for redundancy, walked away with a fat bank account and a nice little cushion of shares, put all of my belongings in to storage and went travelling. My reasons for leaving were simple - I needed to change my life. My team were all based overseas. My boss and colleagues were in a different time zone. Most of the people in my building chose to work from home most days of the week. So I would turn up, have one or two conversations at the coffee machine, another couple of conversations on the phone, tick items off the ever increasing list of thankless tasks and then drive home. The journey itself was so familiar as to be totally monotonous. I lived on a modern housing estate in walking distance of a family pub and a 24 hour Tesco and little else - no boutiques to browse. I went to yoga classes in the evening but in the course of 3 years had no more than passing conversations. I went to dance classes in the town I am living in now, only to find myself pairing up with women. It wasn't a life.

But with redundancy this was all about to change. I visited my sister for the month of May, relieved but slightly terrified at my new found freedom. I then packed a rucksack and made my way to South East Asia for 3 months - Cambodia, Laos and Vietnam. But despite seeing some wonderful sights it was still a very solitary venture. I didn't seem to meet anyone travelling in the same direction for any length of time.

I returned home and stayed at my Dad's house for a month and feeling kind of stifled and under pressure, I manifested this wonderful little house in Bishops Stortford. It was exactly what I was looking for. And from here I intended to get high paying contracts in London as a Project Manager and use the rest of my redundancy money and shares to buy my own house.

Except that's not how it worked out. The agencies regarded me with suspicion for being away for several months. I had very generic skills. I lost my confidence and then I lost my self esteem. In fact, it's questionable as to whether I ever really had any self esteem. I started signing on. I lost my car. I lost my sense of humour.

So with my pool of savings slowly being eaten away by renting a house that I couldn't afford, I stopped spending on myself. I continually validated that 'things would change when I got a job' but until then 'I couldn't afford it'. I was isolated, bored and lonely. I still am.

But that is all about to change. This New Year is going to be a good one, and it will start by ending the ridiculous notion that this house is a good place to live. I feel burdened by the cost of living here. I feel dragged down by my possessions. I have been taking life far too seriously for far too long. It's time to stop giving two hoots to money and start having FUN. It's time to start dating, to be wined and dined. It's time to start dancing and laughing. It's time to start living and loving.

I went to bed at 1am after searching for rental properties in the area I want to live, and my busy head started to consider my options. At 2am I was going through all of my storage cupboards and boxes in my head and working out what to sell. There were so many things that on reflection I have no attachment to whatsoever. At 3am I got up to make a cup of tea and scanned my Zohar out of pure frustration - give me some clues, I want to take action. I started to chew on the idea of living in a smaller space but spending much less time in it - all of the activities I could do during the week which would start filling my life with FUN rather than this monotonous, self induced stress. I think I fell asleep around 4am.

This morning I woke up with a headache and eye-ache and face-ache and toothache and made my way to the train station to make the bi-weekly trip to the Job Centre. At Broxbourne I took out my iPod, asked the question "so, tell me, is moving the right thing to do?" and clicked Shuffle Songs.

And felt my heart lift as the following song began to play

I think it's the words "It gets better, that's for sure... Look to God and he will bless you with more...." that were the icing on the cake.

And the more I think about it, the more it makes sense to take this action - not just to improve my own life by starting to live but also by authentically living what I want to teach...

Another day passed

Where do the days go? I have an empathy with this character...

After a hard day and a long conversation with my sister, I have realised how little I have been living over the past two years. I took redundancy to change my life for the better, but have somehow found a life of solitude and detachment. Life is a game. It's about time I realised that I deserve a little bit of fun. A lot of fun, in fact. And Love. Lots of Love.

All I need is one change to start the ball rolling. And whilst I am looking I will continue to turn to YouTube to introduce a bit of giggling in to my life...

The Proof of the Pudding

A friend invited me to stay at her house for Yom Kippur. It was the strangest sleep-over I have had.

At 4pm on Sunday I ate the biggest plate of roast chicken, mashed potatoes, carrots and green beans. I ate it so fast that before I could gauge whether or not I was actually full, I followed up with an individual sticky toffee pudding for dessert. Just in case.

Twenty minutes later, my stomach registered that not only was it full, but it was painfully full. I wouldn't want to eat for a week, surely? I travelled down to London wearing a fixed grimace and my loosest jeans which an hour earlier had been heading south every five minutes, but now were cutting a rather solid stomach firmly in two. I compounded the pain by drinking as much water as I could carry on the journey down.

Many people at the centre held the same "please don't nudge me, I might explode" expression, all having spent the previous 24 hours on a food-a-thon in preparation for the fast.

It was then explained that over the course of the next 25 hours, we would be taking in 5 spiritual meals which would replace our need for any physical sustenance. The first two 'meals' took place on Sunday night, and the session ended at 9pm. There were several blessings and lots of singing and jumping around - something which would normally draw people to the water fountain in droves. But everyone abstained.

It was only when we were about to leave that I noticed that most of the women were wearing no makeup, and then learned from my friend the rest of the rules of fasting: No contact with water, no adorning the body with oils and lotions for the duration of the fast - something that my overnight buddy was following to the letter. This includes no brushing of teeth, no morning shower, no underarm deodorant, no makeup and only washing the fingertips after going to the loo.

This made for the oddest overnight stay in the world. My friend did not have to worry what I ate for breakfast, or whether I drank tea or coffee or a different milk, and didn't even have to provide a towel. Getting up in the morning on the second day was a cinch - get up, brush hair, put on clothes, leave house. I'd spent 20 minutes packing my bag making sure that I had remembered everything - I don't think I've ever packed a bag and not needed anything except a spare pair of knickers and a new top. Any fears of bad breath or body odour were countered by the knowledge that I wouldn't be alone and there was a noticeable absence of hugging and kissing probably to take this into consideration. Or was that just me?

Day Two of Yom Kippur was a trial of patience. Prayers started at 9am and continued solidly until 2pm. Most of the time we stood, each breathing a sigh of relief when we were asked to 'be seated to draw the energy and then groaning when asked almost immediately to stand for the next prayer.

At 2pm we were released on to the streets of London, and my friend and one other went for a nap in Green Park in the sun, remarkably unaffected by the smells from the multitude of cafes that we passed along the way.

At 5pm we returned for the final two meals, checking our watches continuously. Not long to go now. More standing. More blessings. More random songs. My patience was starting to wear thin - but I still wasn't hungry. My mouth had been like the bottom of a bird cage for the entire day after not brushing my teeth and I longed for a mouthful of water - but the sensation of thirst was consistent and surprisingly bearable. And unlike my previous fast, my stomach had tried a poor attempt at a rumble at 10:30 and then had been silent for the rest of the day.

At 7:20 we finished with the Blowing of the Shofar, to knock away any negative aspect of ourselves that we had not been able to correct. Objectively, it was the blowing of a ram's horn. Spiritually, it touched the parts that other sounds could not reach - a spiritual Heineken, if you like.

At 7:36, after two extended rounds of songs, the women were allowed to break their fast, and there was a mass stampede to the table outside where tea, coffee and biscuits were waiting. Knowing that I had a 90 minute journey home, I grabbed a single glass of water and left the other women to the 'bun fight'. I still wasn't hungry.

I bought a bottle of water on the train and reheated some leftovers from Sunday for my dinner - 28+ hours without food and if I'd had to go to bed without eating, I could have done. How very strange.

I've never been much of a breakfast person, sometimes waiting until midday or slightly later to eat, but generally I fill the gap with multiple cups of tea, and my stomach always rumbles loudly in protest when I don't eat. (In fact, I can blame my rumbling stomach on failing my Biology 'A' level - my stomach rumbled so loudly throughout the entire third paper that I was aware of the invigilator looking away to avoid fits of giggles - humiliating and a tad distracting).

Before Yom Kippur, the thought of '5 spiritual meals' being enough to stave off hunger seemed like a bit of a myth.

I stand corrected. Now I have to consider what else I have dismissed as potential mumbo-jumbo just because I couldn't see it or feel it.

The proof of the pudding... as they say....

As an aside, here is one example of blowing the Shofar. This DIDN'T happen last night, but would have been so funny if it had...

Water(2) and Fast(2) and Awake!

Fast (1)

So, we are nearly at Yom Kippur, the first fast of the year. The day of Yom Kippur is the only day of the year where the 'Opponent' ceases to exist - where there is no negative energy at all. Usually where holidays are concerned (including the weekly Shabbat), extra spiritual energy is gained by 'sealing the connection' with food.

With Yom Kippur, extra connection is made by not eating - by pushing aside the needs of the physical and obtaining sustenance for our soul. So from tomorrow night at sunset (6:41) there will be no food or drink consumed for 25 hours.

If Yom Kippur was the day after Rosh Hashanah, I would be grateful for the opportunity not to eat for an entire day. 3 days of buffet breakfasts and 3-course lunches and dinners tend to have that effect. But after a week of eating sensibly this might be a slight challenge - my stomach is rumbling already.

So I've decided that the best course of action is to start eating from sunrise tomorrow morning, and not stop until sunset. I am going to eat the biggest breakfast, then cook a roast dinner (enough for two) and then take snacks on the train. Clothes with an elasticated waist are in order - either that or a bathrobe. I'm not proud.

Fast(2)

I went shopping today, to buy ingredients for tomorrow's blow out feast. At the checkout, the same question is asked: "Do you need any help with your packing?" I always answer "No, thanks" at which point the cashier starts running items past the bar-code at an unnecessary rate of knots. I used to try to keep up, but now I pack at my own pace and avoid eye contact with the cashier until I am ready to pay. What I learned was that the stores have a throughput rate that the cashiers must meet or exceed to keep their jobs. Yes, it helps to have competent cashiers, but is it only me who thinks there should be a rate that the cashiers should not exceed so that customers actually have a chance to pack their shopping without getting dirty looks or deep sighs? Customer service is what is best for the customer - I wonder if any of the management knows what that means.

The other minor irritation is when the cashier asks "Please can you enter your pin?" two seconds before the card reader displays "ENTER PIN". Hmmph. Just sayin'

Water(1)

The push tap on the last sink on the right hand side of the Harvey Centre (in Harlow) women's loos deserves a prize. I was expecting scorching hot, it was the perfect temperature. I was expecting a two-second burst of Niagara Falls (enough to rinse hands, and soak sleeves, T-shirt and jeans), but no, it was perfect. Life is full of pleasant little surprises, if only we know where to look.

Water(2)

The Pilot Light on my boiler has gone out. I discovered this when I tried to take a shower this morning and no hot water came through. I was bent over the bath for a very long time, refusing to believe that this was as good as it was going to get. I then took a lukewarm shower.

I tried to restart the boiler but it looks as though the ignition has gone. There is nothing - zip, zilch, nada - going on in the click-click-click department. "Well that's no problem" I hear you say "just flick on the immersion". I've tried that already. In fact, I stared at every surface inside my airing cupboard for a full ten minutes before remembering.... I don't have an immersion heater.

***update*** whilst typing the above I remembered that when staring in to the airing cupboard, I saw a plug hanging down behind the water tank. A rather dusty, random looking plug, but a plug all the same. So it has only taken 10 hours for my sharp super-sleuth senses to register than I do actually have an immersion heater, just not a socket inside the airing cupboard. I removed the fluff and have plugged it in to the socket outside the bathroom door. There were no loud bangs or puffs of smoke, just a scary hissing sound. Fingers crossed that I might get a hot bath before the house blows up.... ****

Awake!

I slept through a full hour of my radio alarm this morning, waking up just in time to miss shabbat. If I wasn't allergic, I'd get a cat....:

Happy New Year 5770!

After an exhausting month of repenting and preparatory 'connections' (including an all night study) I felt less than ready for Rosh Hashanah. In fact, after 10 days of flu-like symptoms, I felt pretty much exhausted.

The excitement at the Kabbalah centre was palpable - the words 'Are you going??' were included in every conversation weeks before the event and a positive response was met with elation. As for me, I was curious but cautious. I have bungee jumped and rock climbed and land yachted and sailed and skied and scuba dived. It takes a lot to get me excited.

In truth, the trip was an emotional roller-coaster. I could recant the whole event which would probably take a few days to read... but decided that the Highs and Lows would suffice.

High: Buying an extra half hour of (sleep) time by not ringing the bank to tell them I was travelling to the US the following day. Ah, it would be fine. Never had a problem before.

Low: Arriving in New York with no dollars, having two cards rejected by a cashpoint in JFK airport, then realising that I did not have my bank's phone number to hand.

High: Receiving a phone call from my credit card company under suspicion of being a thief who had both stolen my credit card AND my mobile phone (I just love the dead-pan security questions) and then having my credit card unblocked for use in the US.

High: Attending the Cancelling of the Vows connection - which destroys any negative energy I created by not keeping my promises. Yippee!

Low: Feeling really overwhelmed by the presence of 3000 people and not having a close friend to hand. Really feeling the absence of my sister who had planned to be there.

Low: Sitting through hour upon hour of connections and lectures on Friday night and not feeling like I was taking anything in, and hence would not gain anything from being there. Feeling totally preoccupied with where I was going to stay, having not properly sorted my accommodation.

Low: Dinner at 10:30pm (but my body clock said 3:30 am) which was preceded by the blessing and consumption of ten different types of food, which in turn was preceded by the Washing of the Hands and Hamotzi blessings. There were 2500 people and 8 Hamotzi/Washing stations. This is where I start to lose patience.

High: Being offered a room share by a really lovely, bubbly Aries.

High: Joining in with the song and dance at the end of the meal.

Low: Wondering whether the force of 2000 people jumping on the ballroom floor might have headline consequences. I have never felt a solid floor ripple like that before. I trusted that the Light would never allow the entire Berg family to be wiped out in one go.

Low: Going to bed at 1am feeling uncomfortably bloated and jet-lagged.

High: Waking up at 3:30, 4:30, 5:30 and 6:30 with the sneaking and subsequently confirmed suspicion that I had developed the ability to shit through the eye of a needle. No longer feeling uncomfortably bloated.

Low: All Day Saturday. The connections went on and on. I was reduced to nibbling bread and drinking water for fear of losing control of my bowels and this left me feeling a tad weak. The jet lag started to kick in and my thoughts were that I should never booked Rosh Hashanah. Every time the crowd broke in to spontaneous song, I wanted to scream. Did these people have no concept of time? Don't they know that lunch was meant to be an hour ago? Oh not another bloody song. Stand up, sit down, stand up, sit down, sing a tuneless prayer, sit down, try to get your consciousness in the right place otherwise it won't bloody work. What on earth have I got myself dragged in to? It was an effort to think positive in any way, shape or form.

High: Chatting to several people at dinner and discovering that they had felt the same way too. Understanding that as the Day of Judgement goes, this is par for the course.

High: Waking up on Sunday morning feeling incredibly positive for no apparent reason whatsoever. Fully participating in the 5 hour long connection, standing up, sitting down, concentrating as best I could, not thinking about lunch for a second and standing on a chair for half an hour, clapping and singing throughout a spontaneous sing-song, wishing it would never end. The difference was incredible.

High: Singing 'Salaam' (my favourite, favourite song) with 3000 people at the end of the connection.

High: Bursting spontaneously in to 'Salaam' with ten other people in a bubble lift, all singing at the tops of our voices and in harmony.

'Salaam' means 'Peace' and goes something like this... very catchy.

The whole weekend was strange from start to finish. From the most hideous darkness to the most astonishing Light - neither of which I felt I could control.

As for whether the connection has made any difference to my life, let's just wait and see. All I know is that usually when I fly home from the US I have jet lag for days, and this time there is nothing. So if I'm starting as I mean to go on, that's a good sign...