Monthly Archives: June 2009

Ho’oponopono – my new big thing.

As well as winding down my old lifestyle – one in which I was perfectly happy, by the way, but which I’m changing anyway (from July 6th, I switch from eating dead food to eating only living food, so goodbye cake, chips, cookies, morning coffee, pasta, potatoes, bread, happiness and fun) – I’ve been experimenting with a crazy but fascinating new approach to life’s problems.

dr-joe-mandy-evans-tI picked up a book over the weekend by Dr Joe Vitale (pictured left with Mandy Evans, a woman with whom he is obviously well acquainted, while leaving the rest of us mystified). Joe was one of the stars of the movie The Secret – specifically, the little bald Italian star with the hippy necklace – and he’s written a string of self-help books, including the one I just bought: Zero Limits, which contains ideas so amazing that it completely stopped me getting any work done yesterday while I plowed through it.

It’s based on Joe’s discovery of ho’oponopono – the almost-impossible-to-zerolimitscover spell-or-say Hawaiian technique for getting what you want out of life.

Basically, the trick to h0’oponopono (sadly, the Hawaiians are a proud people, they refuse to abbreviate anything) is that you rethink your issues. Instead of seeing a problem as being between you and, let’s say, another person, you take full, 100% responsibility for it, blaming no-one and nothing. From then on, your job becomes, not to solve the problem, but to be at peace with the energy behind it. Do that, and the problem will solve itself.

Sounds easy, right?

Nothing in life happens by chance, Joe argues in the book, so every difficult person or annoying issue you face comes your way for a reason, to teach you something. It wouldn’t be there if you didn’t have to learn from it.

But here’s the thing: for once, rather than point fingers and blame others for whatever situation you find yourself in, you do the opposite. You drop the whole blame-game angle, chant four little phrases in your mind to counteract the negativity and make peace with ‘the Divine’, as he calls it, and hey presto.

Now, this might seem ridiculous – what am I saying, might? – but I’ve been giving it a go these past couple of days, and I have to say, not only does it begin to make total sense after a while, but it actually works. I’ve already had a couple of small miracles happen this week as a result of this – and it’s only Tuesday. Astonishing. I might not be able to pronounce the technique I’m using, but that doesn’t stop me being impressed by it, or making it my New Big Thing.

Better still, ho’oponopono feels like a miraculous offshoot of the Peters Paradox.  

What that says is: the harder you try in life, the more conscientious you are, and the more you commit to achieving something, the less successful you are likely to be overall; whereas the more you slope off and enjoy life, the higher you will rise and the more you will get accomplished. God loves a slacker, remember that.

The validity of the Paradox was proved yet again for me yesterday when I heard about a guy I used to work with at London’s major FM station, Capital Radio, in the ’80s. He was a reporter, but also the dullest, most uninspired, dead-eyed, limp, personality-free individual I have ever met. Back then, we used to consider him the benchmark for tedium. Even his voice had no expression to it and a conversation with him on any level left you feeling numb and desperate to get away.

Well, yesterday I came across him again, through a website. I discovered that, later on, Mr. Dull not only became mega-successful, but rose to the very top of the British entertainment business, running entire TV networks and production companies along the way. He’s now a major figure in the UK. Though, to judge by his picture and the expression on his face, his personality is exactly the same. That is to say, he doesn’t have one.   

Anyway, back to the plot: this latest technique I’ve discovered fits very well into the Paradox too.  

All you do is pick a problem, but instead of getting in a froth about it, like you normally would, this time you take a different approach. This time,  internally, you say, “I love you. Please forgive me. I’m sorry. Thank you.”   Over and over again ’til you believe them.

You aim these phrases, not at the issue or person causing the friction, though, but rather at “the Divine”, or whatever you choose to call it. This leaves you feeling relaxed and at peace with the issue, and lets the Divine do all the work to solve the problem. And as you know, letting other people solve your problems for you is very much a central tenet of the Peters Paradox.         

Naturally, there’s more to it than that. There must be, because Joe spins it out into an entire book. Plus there are workshops you can attend and audiobooks you can buy. But I suggest as a starting point that you hurry to check out Zero Limits and see what, if anything, this amazing, unpronounceable  little trick can do for you.

TV Swami – he off-topic today. But he say YES to ho’oponopono.

www.cashpeters.com

Don’t forget to watch Fast and Very Loose, Cash’s short movie. It’s more fun than you’ve had in a while.

Also, follow me on Twitter @cashpeters. I mean, y’know, only if you want to.

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Drugged, anorexic, balding, broke, voice-less, frail, gay, and now dead.

The most astonishing and comprehensively troubling set of accusations about the late M.J. has appeared in Britain’s Daily Mail.

It’s here if you want to read it. Truly eye-opening.

Maybe I was wrong. Maybe he did have to die after all. 

TV Swami – he stunned.

http://www.cashpeters.com 

Also, follow him on Twitter @cashpeters

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Memo to Michael Jackson – you didn’t need to die, dude.

200px-Reporter_and_Crowd_outside_UCLA_-_MJ_DeathFriday mourning. Michael Jackson’s dead from a heart attack induced apparently by an overdose of painkillers, same as Heath Ledger. Doctors and the pharmaceutical industry have done it again.

So let’s not bother with too many words today, let’s watch some TV.

As expert as I am at locking barn doors, the horse having bolted, I thought I’d post a bunch of videos today that offer very strong pointers to how we – the ones with enough backbone to take a stand against what the rest of the world is doing – can avoid getting sick and having heart attacks.

I already avoid doctors, which means I don’t take dangerous pills or seek the advice of alarmists with a financial stake in my becoming and staying ill (what use am I to medical professionals if I’m well? None!)  But also, in a week or so’s time, I switch to an all raw food diet. Done right, that alone should vanquish toxins and disease from my body, strengthen my immune system, increase my stamina, and guarantee my health into old age. Raw food eaters tend not to have heart attacks. It’s just the way it is.

This guy did a casual survey on Hawaii about how a bad diet can destroy you.

And finally, this third video tells you how never to have a heart attack, apparently.

It’s extremely boring on the face of it, I’m afraid, because it’s technical, but still, it’s important stuff that you need to know, especially if you don’t eat well. The guy gives one major snippet of information which I think is revolutionary, so I’m glad I saw it. Thanks to Steve Nicholls for sending me the link.

TV Swami – he say YES to outliving Michael Jackson.  

www.cashpeters.com

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Farrah Fawcett. Dead. Of course.

Poor woman. Doctors treated her as best they could, and of course she prayed to God for help at every turn. No wonder it turned out badly.

Hollywood grieves her loss, rightly. She was an icon and a brave soul.  But ultimately, I believe, she fell foul of the very medical establishment that she trusted to save her. I wrote a post about this in May. I’m reposting it here.

https://cashpeters.wordpress.com/2009/05/20/why-there-will-never-be-a-cure-for-cancer-you-read-it-here-first/

www.cashpeters.com

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How much more drivel can we take?

Today I’m handing over this blog to a review of Transformers 2: Revenge of the Fallen, by Sam Mendelson of the Huffington Post.

I do this because I loathed the first Transformers movie, whose effects were meant to inspire awe, but in fact the only awe I felt was at how stupid, ignorant, gullible, and undereducated younger audiences must be nowadays to allow Hollywood PR people and marketing guys to manipulate them regularly into paying to see such garbage. 

Well, here we are for round two. The sequel’s arrived, kids will flock to it – natch – and once again a whole generation, already reeling from the insipid, one-note nothingness that is the Jonas Brothers and Miley Cyrus, will be dumbed down another notch. And because they’re now so numb to what’s going on, they won’t realize how they’ve been duped. 

The review is here. Read and enjoy.

www.cashpeters.com

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Someone’s won a BSA. Bet you can’t guess who.

I’ve never placed much value on winning awards. Mainly because I don’t win any. Not as a rule. I’m told I won a Peabody Award in 2001. And Gullible’s Travels, my travel memoir, took home the Ben Franklin Award for Humor in 2003. There were others as well, but they’re very thin on the ground and I don’t remember them.

Furthermore, when I received the glass slab that winners of the Franklin award are sent in the mail, I promptly dropped it and chipped a big hole in the side. Now I’m embarrassed to bring it out.  

But yesterday was different. Yesterday I won an award that, in a small way, I’m quite proud of.  A BSA.

Don’t worry if you’ve not heard of it; neither had I.

But you know how I mentioned that I’d uploaded my short movie, Fast and Very Loose, to Vimeo? (You can watch it here) Well, I went and posted this fact on the Curezone website – which is a phenomenal resource, a sort of Wikipedia of all things health. I mentioned it in the fasting section, and immediately began receiving great responses – including a BSA.

A – wait for this – Bright Star Award. Oh yes.

It’s the award that Curezone’s forum moderators give to the best post ever. And my little movie won it. That’s no mean feat – however unimpressed I might seem at this moment.

Here’s what was said at the ceremony. (I’m guessing there was a ceremony.)

Cash,

As a Curezone moderator, I have to admit to
you this is the first time I have ever given
a post a BSA .....the highest mark, but this
is the best!!!!! You are so honest about your
feelings before the fast....wanting to eat
everything in sight. You cracked me up... I
was laughing out loud....

You have a great talent, Cash, and I thank
you for sharing it with us.

Paulette

Well, that is just the sweetest thing. I don’t have a speech prepared, but of course I’d like to thank the Academy, and Jesus, and my family – no, not my family, but everyone else. Left to my family, I would never have won anything, much less a Bright Star Award from a moderator at Curezone. I’d still be sitting behind a desk in the Civil Service stamping forms. Truly, I’m honored.

If you’re interested to see what the fuss is about – and a BSA is tantamount to a fuss, right? Please say it is – you might want to check out the movie for yourself. Then, if you enjoy it as much as Paulette did, maybe you can invent your own award too and give it to me. I promise not to drop this one.

Now, that said, what about Ebay, you’re wondering. Well, things are really hotting up over there. Here’s the current state of play:

1) Mommy’s Little Freedom Fighter + free signed copy of Naked in Dangerous Places: bids end TODAY.  You have to be in it to win it.

2) Naked in Dangerous Places, signed, with free unpublished end chapter (two pages): bids have already begun.

3) Naked in Dangerous Places, signed, with free unpublished end chapter (two pages): bids have also begun, so get in fast.

Auctions end soon.

www.cashpeters.com

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How Betty White put me back on the road to wellness.

I probably should have quit when doctors started complaining. Back in January, as many of you are aware – God knows, I never stopped talking about it – I fasted for two weeks, surviving only on a daily diet of cayenne pepper, lemonade, salt water, maple syrup, laxative tea, and more determination than I thought any human being had, much less me. It was quite an achievement and I was very proud of myself, bordering on smug for a while.

But then, when I happened – in my euphoria – to mention on my BBC thing, that I wasn’t eating, it drew a flood of complaints. A flood.

“How dare your correspondent suggest,” insane medical people wrote to the show’s producers, “that he can live on salt water. If you drink salt water, your brain grows bigger than your skull and you die.”  

master cleanserTo which my general response was: “You morons. I’m not living on salt water, I’m using a tablespoon of it in water each morning to flush out my system. It’s called The Master Cleanser, dummies. It’s been around for fifty years.”

But  because everyone takes the opinion of the medical establishment as law, the topic was considered dangerous and I was banned from mentioning my fast ever again on the show, lest I set a bad example to any corpulent, sick, uneducated, self-destroying listeners by being a model of health – because that would never do.

Well, anyway, what many people didn’t know at the time was that I was filming the whole two-week drama for a little film. That ridiculous spat with doctors – which made me more dead set against their extreme and ridiculous practices than ever – even made it to the final cut. And the best news is, you can now watch it too.

The movie, which is called Fast and Very Loose, has been showing around various film festivals recently. But that’s done, and today I can announce with some pride that it’s available for general viewing on Vimeo.

If you’re interested – and really, how can you resist seeing me suffer? – you can watch it here.  

Odd that this should happen this week actually, because it coincides with a radical lifestyle choice I’ve just made. After much discussing and dithering, I’ve decided that, as from July 5th, I am going totally raw. Raw, I tell you! For the next 100 days, I will eat nothing but raw foods – fruits, vegetables, nuts, seeds, and so on. (Actually, there isn’t much “and so on”; I think that’s pretty much all I’m allowed to eat). And I will film this experience too. That will be my next little movie experiment.

The final straw, the one that made me resolute about changing my diet, was an extravagant event I attended Saturday night in Los Angeles, called The Beastly Ball. My partner and I go every year as a guest of actress and icon bettyBetty White, who’s considered some kind of higher being in zoo circles for her concern and love of animals.

The event takes place at the zoo itself and is attended by a bunch of dignitaries – the mayor, a senator, etc – and celebrities (if you can count local TV weathermen as celebrities). Ticket prices run at around $1000 a head. Yet, despite the cost, thousands showed up to support the zoo, though mainly, I suspect, to get at the free food and drink, which this year was divine.

It’s the free food that makes this my favorite event EVER. You’re supposed entranceto be walking around, ogling all the animals, but honestly, who wants to see a chimp doing backflips when there’s free lasagna around the next corner?

Every so often, as you walk around, you come across a booth. There were 25 of them this year. And in each booth a top L.A. restaurant is offering a sampling of its food. It’s all steaming vats and sizzling pans and bustling activity. Like an upmarket soup kitchen crossed with an easter egg hunt. Very nice.

But the pressure is on, of course. Because basically, it means you have to find the booths and eat 25 little meals – everything from hotdogs to green corn tamales to chicken pot pies – in about an hour. Something I’m up for and prepare for, and eagerly anticipate.

Only this year, for the very first time, I noticed something bad happening. I had an adverse reaction.

The whole event culminates in an auction. You sit around at tables, eating and eating and eating, while one of the TV weathermen bounces about a stage eliciting bids for several top of the line items, some of them quite inspired. For $4000, for instance, you could buy yourself a walk-on part in an episode of 24 – “with a character who’s not just anybody, he’s got a name, so he’ll go down in the mythology of the show!’   

“Oooh,” I squealed, “I want to be Butch McGibbon, faded prize-fighter with secret ties to Hamas and a simmering hatred of Jack Bauer.” 

Unfortunately, since I wasn’t willing to pay $4000 for a walk-on in anything, let alone a show I don’t watch, I was outbid instantly by a man at the next table, so it’s him you’ll be seeing get beaten up and tortured in a future episode, not me.

There was also a speaking role in Family Guy on offer, which I thought was cool, as well as a personal tour of the reptile house by Slash, the rock guitarist person.

And while all this was going on, even more restaurants were serving up food around us, including my very favorite: potato martinis. Oh my God, I love these so much, and ate tw0 of them. It’s a martini glass filled with mashed potato, then drizzled with all manner of toppings, from chili to sauteed mushrooms. 

That done, I followed it with my favorite dessert, a little squishy chocolate square that I look forward to all year. Oh, and on the way back from the dessert table, I spotted chefs cooking mini-quesadillas, and who can say no to mini-quesadillas? Not I. So I nabbed three of those too.

And that’s when I hit the wall. Suddenly, I was smacked in the face by reality. That I can’t eat this much. Nobody can. Not without bursting. That my system was overloaded. That a bloated riptide of nausea and disgust was rising up inside of me in reaction to these obscene levels of overindulgence and overconsumption.

My problem is: when I see free food, I have to eat it. And when I eat it, I do so like a starving orphan, as if I’m never going to be eating ever again, so I’d better stock up now. And it’s this ridiculous instinct that was my downfall on Saturday night. By the end, I was feeling really sick. As if I’d gone ten rounds with Butch McGibbon, faded prizefighter.

Worse, the next morning, I was still bloated and ill. So I ate nothing all day. And yesterday, Monday, was pretty much the same. In all, my body took a full 48 hours to readjust, and to simply expel all the crap I’d loaded into it on Saturday night. I was utterly disgusted with myself. Disgusted and ashamed.

And that’s when I made up my mind.

From July 5th – it would be a mistake to do it on July 4th – I am taking on the 100-day raw food challenge. For the next three months, and then some,  raw foodnothing will pass my lips that is cooked. Because cooked food is dead food. Apparently, anything heated to over 120 degrees or so loses all its nutrients. Sadly, that includes cake – the food of life.  

But it’s worth it. Raw food, apparently, if you eat it c0rrectly, brings your whole being into alignment. It enables your body to cleanse and lose excess weight; it affects you spiritually by raising your consciousness, allowing ideas to flow into and through you more easily; and it leaves you feeling balanced, alive, and energized – the exact opposite, in fact, to how I felt Saturday night.

I mentioned my new plan to friends and, naturally, everyone’s horrified. “So does that mean you’ll be eating raw meat, then?” someone asked.

Raw meat? Are you crazy? (Sometimes I don’t think my friends are very bright.)

No, only vegetables, fruits, seeds, sprouts, and nuts. The real food of life. For one hundred days. No coffee or tea. No milk, no sodas, no cookies, no cakes, no bread, no chips, no….well, you name it. Whatever it is, chances are I can’t eat it.

So I guess I should thank dear Betty White. Her largesse this year is double-edged. She not only bought me a ticket to the Beastly Ball, my favorite event ever, but she also unwittingly drove me into an entirely new lifestyle, one that will set me on the right road to future health, while also, incidentally, annoying my friends and loved ones intensely with the extent of its selfishness. 

It should be an interesting summer.

TV Swami, he say YES to raw food.

www.cashpeters.com.

Read the disclaimer yet? You should, you know. It’s at the top of the page.   

NOTE: I received this comment for one reader called Zac who asked me if I’d include certain extra information. My own message is always: don’t take anything from anyone as gospel. Always check for yourself before doing anything. I’m not a doctor, and we’re all different.

Here’s what he said:

 “Cash, can you somehow slip in one caveat that people experiencing any immune system impacting diseases or procedures (HIV, Lupus, Chemo Therapy, and/or Transplants) should check with their doctor prior to starting a diet based on Raw foods? The nutrients you speak of often consist of biotic agents, “flora”, that are either good [probiotics] or if neutral or bad are eliminated by a health immune system. People without a health immune system can see an overgrowth of these flora, and such an overgrown of even the good can have serious impacts. I wish you the best of luck with the whole experience!”

 

naked bookDon’t forget, two signed copies of Naked in Dangerous Places are up for auction on Ebay, with a special bonus chapter thrown in. They’re here. And here

ffAnd Mommy’s Little Freedom Fighter, which also comes with a signed book, is here.

 

  

 

 

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