Funny '2 Cows' thing.

This popped up in my Facebook 'newsfeed'. It's from the page of one K.C.Locke, who got it from a Matt McNeil. Neither of whom are my 'Facebook friends'. So I have no idea how or why it came to my attention...
I have no idea how Facebook works, and I'm very happy for that. Social Media is insidious and dangerous, and yes, I know, it's also great in many ways too, but I'm happy I'm not a Social Media expert. Or maybe it would be better if I was. I. don't. know.

Anyway, this is hilarious, and I hope it makes you laugh out loud (LOL) as I did.

You have 2 cows.
You give one to your neighbor.
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and gives you some milk.
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and sells you some milk.
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both and shoots you.
You have 2 cows.
The State takes both, shoots one, milks the other, and then throws the milk
You have two cows.
You sell one and buy a bull.
Your herd multiplies, and the economy grows.
You sell them and retire on the income.
You have two giraffes.
The government requires you to take harmonica lessons
You have two cows.
You sell one, and force the other to produce the milk of four cows.
Later, you hire a consultant to analyse why the cow has dropped dead.
You have two cows.
You sell three of them to your publicly listed company, using letters of
credit opened by your brother-in-law at the bank, then execute a debt/equity
swap with an associated general offer so that you get all four cows back,
with a tax exemption for five cows.
The milk rights of the six cows are transferred via an intermediary to a
Cayman Island Company secretly owned by the majority shareholder who sells
The annual report says the company owns eight cows, with an option on one
You sell one cow to buy a new president of the United States, leaving you
with nine cows.
No balance sheet provided with the release.
The public then buys your bull.
You have two cows.
You go on strike, organize a riot, and block the roads because you want
three cows.
You have two cows.
You redesign them so they are one-tenth the size of an ordinary cow and
produce twenty times the milk.
You then create a clever cow cartoon image called 'Cowkimon' and market it worldwide.
You have two cows.
You re-engineer them so they live for 100 years, eat once a month, and milk themselves.
You have two cows, but you don't know where they are.
You decide to have lunch.
You have two cows.
You count them and learn you have five cows.
You count them again and learn you have 42 cows.
You count them again and learn you have 2 cows.
You stop counting cows and open another bottle of vodka.
You have 5,000 cows. None of them belong to you.
You charge the owners for storing them.
You have two cows.
You worship them.
You have two cows.
Both are mad.
You have two cows.
Business seems pretty good.
You close the office and go for a few beers to celebrate.
Everyone thinks you have lots of cows.
You tell them that you have none.
No-one believes you, so they bomb the **** out of you and invade your
You still have no cows, but at least now you are part of a democracy.
You have two cows.
You have 300 people milking them.
You claim that you have full employment, and high bovine productivity.
You arrest the newsman who reported the real situation.
You have two cows.
The one on the left looks very attractive.


Profound healing: transformation of physical and emotional problems in 1 session. But what about 18 months later?

Last night I gave a presentation near Ljubljana.

Nataša came.

I barely recognized her, but as soon as she said her name I knew which Nataša it was.

 I’d met her 18 months ago, just the once. She came to me for a single healing session. The email she sent me afterwards has been on my website as a testimonial ever since.

She’d been suffering from depression and (to put it mildly) ‘dark thoughts’ for most of her life.

Despite seeking help from multiple doctors, psychiatrists, therapists, and healers, nothing and no one had been able to help her.

When she came to me she had also been having serious problems with her thyroid and was due surgery to have it removed. That was actually the catalyst that led her to me.

The result of that single session: 

total transformation...


Strong feelings of Anger, Suspicion, and Anxiety - cleared in one session.

Great client (thank you Becky!), great results, great testimonial. Unfortunately my technical skills are not so great so it's a poor quality video, but I think you can see enough to know what worked and what didn't!

To summarize: I did one session a little over a month ago with Becky, and a week later we did a short follow up session (included in price of the first session: part of the deal when you book a session with me).

So all in all a little over 2 hours of work together.

3 separate big problems: feelings of anger (measured a month ago as 9/10), anxiety (8/10) and suspicion / distrust (10/10) cleared in one session. If that isn't a good result I don't know what is!


Why healing, personal development and spirituality are really the same thing.

Kiwan and Jai. Masters of Simplicity.

Sometimes, life seems so damn complicated, doesn’t it?! I have an intimate relationship with my wife to maintain and nourish; my child to educate, support, and nurture; my work to soak up my passion and creativity… and all the while the whole world seems to be trying to sell me something!

But lately, more and more, I’m feeling like everything is actually incredibly simple. Because the root of all these various and complex problems is the same – me!

When I get myself in order, everything else falls into place. Life becomes, once again, very joyful.

I used to think that I had to do lots of different things in order to get myself into that joyful space: Yoga; meditation; eat just right; get a balance between work and play; personal development work so that my relationships would work (as long as my partner also did personal development work!)… God, when I look back at what I was doing I cringe...


Mark Ruffalo Occupies Wall Street with passion, compassion, intelligence, charisma

I was an actor once. A terrible actor. I made audiences cringe. I myself cringed inwardly on stage. I had no confidence. I was in a play at the National Theatre once (just the once) and my parents got in the elevator with Neil Kinnock (head of the opposition party at the time). That's my claim to acting fame. That's how bad I was. Thank God I don't have to act anymore; I found my real purpose in life.

Then there's Mark Ruffalo. He's a great actor. I could watch him all day. There's an openness and an integrity about him that is very attractive. I've seen a few of his movies and I always felt like he's the kind of guy I'd like to get to know. A good guy.

Then there's Occupy (Wall Street). I love that movement. I put the brackets around the Wall Street part because I don't feel it's really about Wall Street any more. It's about... no, wait.

Occupy has become a global movement and it's only going to get bigger. It's going to get bigger and bigger because more and more people are awakening to the simple truth of who they really are. More and more people are becoming conscious of their own innate power. We are not sheep. We are not here to be herded around like cattle, victims of a system that is based on greed and fear, so that 1% can prosper and be free while 99% live without dignity...

We are human beings: perfect, beautiful, powerful expressions of pure consciouness. We are free already, and as more and more people awaken to that simple truth by letting go of survival based fears, the system in which we live is changing. Occupy is a sign of that change - and I for one am overjoyed to see it happening.
So what's Occupy about? I'll let Mark Ruffalo explain it much better than I can:

And an equally intelligent, even more eloquent 'call to arms':


Somebody can be. And it’s my pleasure.

I just did a presentation in Zagreb. I presented Reference Point Therapy (my healing work), and I did a very public demonstration of it.

The 3rd level course of RPT is called Mastering the Miraculous.

Since I took that course in November 2009 I’ve been able to master miracles.

And tonight was a beautiful example of that.

First of all – who has ever heard of a ‘healer’ claiming to have the “fastest, most efficient healing technique in the world”.

Secondly, who ever had the balls to prove that claim with a public demonstration?

Well actually, there are a bunch of us RPT teachers doing just that – I’m not the only one...

So tonight, I asked for a show of hands in the audience: who wants to heal something, right now?..


Live life like...

Many thanks to the wonderful artist JellyVampire for this beautiful, inspiring, and uplifting artwork:

Get off the page, out of your box.

Be creative and bold and dance the dance of your life with wild abandon...
Like you've got nothing to lose.

Paint the canvas of your life liberally, generously,
With a flourish or whilst poring over every detail, but do it:

Like you've got nothing to lose.

Sing the song of your life with all the emotional color you can muster,
Every shade and nuance at your disposal.
Spare nothing and no-one, like
You've got nothing to lose.

Because really,

You have nothing to lose.


Pure beauty (A poem by Ben Ralston)

Beauty is not something you buy in the aisles of drug stores,
Or (cosmetic) surgeries,
Or anywhere,
In fact.

Beauty is a feeling, deep within;
An overflowing, slow-flowing surge
that lifts and burns and Devours
With subtlety.

Pure beauty is the essence of life itself:
Show me a living being, and I’ll show you Beautiful.

Because when you feel that surge within
All of without is moved by it.

Beauty is the light that guides your eyes,
The waves that open your ears,
The nerves that soften your skin.

That which feels.

We all want beauty.
But it’s in our desire to own it
That we lose sight
Of the only place it can really be found...


3 steps to profound healing (broken heart, bones, spirit)

I bleed. 
My heart bleeds out into the lonely night, and only the yearning for daylight; only the memory of a better day gives me hope...

Do you know what I mean? I know you do.
At least on some level, you do.
I’m a healer. I work as a therapist, I counsel people, and I heal their wounds (mostly emotional, but also physical). I didn’t ever desire to do this. I wanted to do many things, but never this…

When it came on me though, I knew it was my calling.

Healing is the simplest, most natural thing in the world. There are just 3 simple steps that you have to take to heal almost anything.

Of course, not everything can be healed. But even most things that are thought incurable can be.

And these are the 3 steps:


Why I left Bangkok… part 3: "Tread softly, and with joy."

After my unwitting incursion into the world of child prostitution - part 1 - and my adventures with amphetamine crazed truck drivers and Thai gangsters  - part 2 - I was feeling pretty lost.

I’d been traveling alone for about a month and I was lonely.

One day I was driving through town on my motorbike and I started to feel ill again. The fever wasn’t quite gone yet. I pulled over to the side of the road and found myself sitting at a table outside a small bar. I ordered a drink and before it arrived I realized I was outside some kind of brothel.

There were about 5 or 6 girls in the bar, lounging around and leaning over a couple of Dutch sailors.

The sailors were about 50 years old, heavily tattooed. I really wish I could remember my conversation with them because it was both hilarious and very interesting.

The expression on their faces (and the faces of all the men I saw in that bar) stay with me though. They were like young men ‘on the pull’ – that strange kind of desperate intensity in their eyes (sexual desire) and a kind of assumed (false) arrogance. They were trying to look confident and self-assured. In short: they wanted to be found attractive. I recall finding this very amusing: they were in a brothel. They knew they only had to pay for what they wanted, and yet they still went through the suffering of the ‘chase’.

The girls were an interesting bunch...


3 impossible true stories (and 1 way to feel more like God).

Thinks he's an otter...

There have been times when I’ve felt so bad I’ve wanted the Earth to swallow me up. Times when, if I’d had one wish, I would not have wished for more money or time or power; I’d have wished to disappear in a puff of smoke.
And there was a time when I very, very nearly killed myself.

We’re all human, which is to say, we all have the capacity to experience tremendous pain. I’m talking about emotional pain here, but the same goes for physical…

I think it was Primo Levi who said something like:
A human is an animal that can adapt to any circumstances”.

I once watched a documentary called “The Boy Whose Skin Fell Off”. It was about a boy with a rare disease – his skin fell off his body every few days. His skin kept falling off all the time. His parents had to bandage him up, and he lived with that pain day in, day out, his whole life. In the end, he died of skin cancer.

I don’t think I’ve ever cried so much, or been so moved, as I did and was by that movie. That boy’s courage and dignity will remain with me, always. You can watch it here. You will be moved and shaken and inspired.

I wrote recently about feeling like an Ant. And about feeling like God.

To me, the difference between the two is just all about where we place our attention (and where we place our attention is the greatest sign of our intelligence)...

So I want to share with you a great way to shift your attention from the mundane, painful, ant-like aspects of life, towards God:


When you find an animal dying slowly and painfully, what do you do?

I killed a puppy with my bare hands.
The single toughest thing I've ever done - physically and emotionally. I don't think that I regret it, but at the same time, I'm not sure I did the right thing (is there ever a right thing to do?). Nor am I sure quite what I learnt from the experience.

I think the truth is: I'm still learning from it...

When I was 9 or 10 years old we went on holiday. I don’t remember how old I was exactly, but I can’t have been more than 10, because my brother wasn’t born yet.

While we were out walking one day our dog, Rocky, caught a rabbit. He held it in his jaws, shook it from side to side, and then dropped it. It fell like a rag doll, and Rocky went on his way again: job done.

My parents also started off again, but I couldn’t leave the rabbit like that: its neck was broken, but it was alive. It was still breathing (very fast) and was clearly conscious.

So I took a large rock, and killed it, as fast as I could. 

I remember my parents being very impressed. But the truth is, I just couldn’t leave it like that. I didn’t feel I had a choice.

Fastforward almost 20 years.


Why I left Bangkok... Part 2 – Blue Sapphires and Red Bull.

Princess Di and a Blue Sapphire. She didn't buy it in Thailand...

I’m sure Bangkok is a beautiful city. I’m sure there are lovely people there, and great things to do and see. I just didn’t do or see or meet any of them. (Click here for part one).

Instead I got on a train and headed North.
I stopped off in a town called Sukhothai. There’s a vast, ancient temple there.

I made friends with a young guy called Thum who worked in the place where I was staying. He was like a stallion. A lot of young Western girls passed through Sukhothai, and he felt obliged to sleep with all of them. He apparently had a strong sense of duty.

I hired a motorbike while I was there, and I’d drive around exploring temples and feeling free (I was 21 years old).

I noticed that all the trucks and lorries seemed to be in a hell of a hurry.
They would hurtle past me on my bike, missing my handlebars by – I swear – millimeters, the back of the truck shaking from side to side and huge clouds of dust kicking up in my face. I nearly died like this several times. Had I veered slightly to the right a moment before they passed I would have been finished...

When I mentioned this to Thum, he disappeared for a while and came back with a little brown medicinal-looking bottle. So I tasted ‘Red Bull’ for the first time (the taste was the same, but as for the ingredients, I don’t know…) back in 1994. Thum told me that it had amphetamines in it, and that the truck drivers all drank it to be able to drive longer and so make more money. I believed him. It gave an incredible energy kick.

(Year later, when I was a youth worker, I had a kid called Aaron in one of my programs. One night he had to be hospitalized after drinking 6 Red Bulls. He'd had a heart attack. He was 16 years old.)

There were two workmen hammering away on the roof of a small hut. I noticed that they’d hammer slowly and rhythmically for about 10 minutes, and then they’d climb down (slowly and rhythmically) and disappear inside for about 10 more minutes (before reappearing and staring their slow rhythm all over again). I mentioned my observation to Thum. He grinned his great big beautiful Thai smile, and led me into the hut they were working on. There was a man-size bong the in the middle of the room, and Thum sparked it up for me. He told me to take a hit. I took one hit, and then I went to my room and lay down.

I began to hear the most beautiful symphonic dance music. It was the coolest tune I’d ever heard, incredibly complex and uplifting. It was drum’n bass, several years before drum ‘n bass had even been invented. I wondered where the music was coming from, and got up a few times to try and find it. But every time I stood up, the music stopped. So I lay down and finally accepted that it was in my head. At first I was a little concerned. Then I relaxed and allowed the music to take me. Before falling asleep I wondered whether this new ability would last… it didn’t. I’ve not spontaneously composed symphonic drum ‘n bass since, and it’s probably a Good Thing.

There was a cool girl from Canada called Tina staying there (longer than she’d planned, until she met Thum), and she introduced me to PJ Harvey. Tina and I also went on a motorbike ride to a nature reserve. We hired a bike and I drove all the way there with her hanging on to my back. It was incredibly hot and dusty, and by the time we got there we didn’t have much time to swim in the waterfall. I swam and she watched (as I remember), and after I came out she took a photo of me and said it would be good for my portfolio (I was an aspiring actor).

On the way back it was getting dark, and the air was full of insects. Every few seconds I’d get shot in the face by a flying beetle, and it seriously hurt. Tina hid behind my shoulders and was more or less ok. It felt like an epic journey. I was the hero; no one but Tina could ever understand...


Why we are all nothing more than ants (and no less than Gods)

I don’t know how old I was exactly (somewhere between 8 and 11) when my Father took me for a walk one evening. The magic of being up late in the balmy summer twilight, and that oh-so-precious time with my Dad meant that something special had to happen.

And it did.

As we walked along the street we chatted, and it was just another day. Just another moment sliding by.

Then we stopped and my Father looked up at the sky, my hand in his. I looked up too and he began to tell me, with a ‘time is not sliding by now’ tone of voice, just how big the universe is.

He explained how many planets there are in our Solar system, and how many Galaxies there are, and the distance from here to the moon, and so on. I don’t remember the details, but I do remember that as he outlined the vastness of the universe, I began to realize just how tiny and insignificant I am. By the time he finished, I felt like an ant.

But I also felt like God...

Time had stopped sliding. In fact, it had just stopped. It had expanded in every direction, and stopped. It was infinite. The Universe (space) and that moment (time) had become one. Time and space stretched away from me in every direction, and I just stood there, feeling like God.

I can’t describe that moment any better. It was a revelation. That’s all. It might have been the best thing my Father ever did for me.


20 years later I was an addict. Yeah, some of you don’t know this, but I spent 2 years of my life in a room in Swiss Cottage, London, eating nothing but baked beans and take-away Balti.   
Those 2 years almost killed me...
I’m not kidding. I’m not exaggerating. I nearly destroyed myself there. I did lose friends, money, time, and health. But I’m still here. I didn’t lose my life.

You’re probably wondering what I was addicted to...


Offended by the word Cunt? (This one’s for you)

Mark was my best friend.

We grew up together. I knew him since I was 4 years old.

We used to sleep over at each other’s houses, sliding down the staircases in sleeping bags, keeping each other’s parents awake at night.

I never felt comfortable in his house though. Everything was too clean and tidy – not a thing out of place.

And he wasn’t allowed to say ‘God’. He got round this by saying Gaw’ instead (like Gawd – ‘Queen’s English’ pronunciation, but without the D). I remember the first time I heard him say it. I laughed out loud.

His mother (who I must say is a lovely lady, and still friends with my mother) didn’t let him say God, but Gaw’ was ok. Even though we all knew that the meaning was the same.

I was always afraid of his Mother as a child. She reminded me of Nurse Ratched.

The thing that bothered me the most about this vocabulary restriction that my friend was under – it sounded so contrived. As if, at the moment when he wanted to exclaim “Oh my God, the house is on fire!” or “Good God, I’ve never seen such a large carrot”, or “God Almighty is that really the time?”, he had to check his surprise / indignation / relief, and redirect his feeling into another direction. It was the censorship of expression that I found hard to swallow...


Why I had to leave Bangkok after just one night. Part 1 - The Girl with Black Eyes.

I cried a little writing this. Sometimes, I am ashamed to be a man…

I was 21 years old and I went to Thailand. A guy I knew who was very cool had been there, so I thought that perhaps if I went to Thailand, I’d be cool too. As far as I can remember that was my motivation… and I guess I wanted to grow up a little.

Well, I grew up a little.

It’s funny. Before I left, my Mum begged me to promise to call her every day. I thought she was insane and I assured her in no uncertain terms that I would not be giving her daily progress reports. As it turned out though, she had good reason to worry!

I’d planned to stay 3 nights in Bangkok, and then get on a train and go North. It didn’t work out that way…

When I arrived, I headed for the area where all the tourists usually stay. I forget the name (Khao San road?), but it’s very well know. And actually, the place I ended up staying is the place where Leonardo DiCaprio’s character stays in the movie The Beach. I was there first, but only for one night.

I was 21 years old and alone in a very strange land. I went down the steps into the sitting area below and ordered a beer. I remember feeling like a fish out of water. I don’t know what I was thinking, going to Thailand. I wasn’t comfortable in my own skin, let alone South East Asia. But there I was…

And there were a couple of old Thai Dudes playing chess, and I sat near them and plucked up the courage to watch. In the end, I had a game with one of them (my Dad taught me to play chess when I was about 5 years old, and by the time I was 15 I was beating him consistently. He was a very, very sore loser, and wouldn’t speak to me after we played. He’d just go to bed sulking. I never let him win though, even though my Mum asked me to when he was sick. I couldn’t do that to him. I loved him too much).

Anyway, here’s what happened in Bangkok:

I played a little chess with this old Thai Dude and he was a bit of a charmer. After our game, he invited me out for some “traditional Thai food and music”. I was really happy – I wanted to get to know the real Thailand, not just the Khao San road (or whatever it’s called). So off we went… and ended up in this fairly tacky looking restaurant. The manager was floating around us, wringing his hands and doing his best “I’m servile and I’ll do anything for a tip” act. The band played synthesized Western rock songs. It was awful. And the only other thing I remember from the evening was the girl with black eyes...


My wife told me to edit this (too graphic). I didn’t – read at your own discretion.

I had a miserable childhood.

Don’t get me wrong: I was blessed with great parents who gave me very strong foundations. But beyond that, I got a fairly tough deal.

Each and every school I went to sucked. Sucked with a capital S.

Strange really because they were all private schools; or as we say in England (in a typically counter-intuitive, oxymoronic kind of a way), public schools. The schools that parents have to pay a lot of money to send their kids to.

So I supposedly had one of the best educations that money can buy! Sure didn’t feel like it though… and I suspect that education is not something that can, or should be, bought…


When I was six, we lived in Israel for a year. I didn’t speak a word of Hebrew when we first got there, and I didn’t know a soul, but the ‘teacher’ made me stand facing into the corner at the front of the classroom, all the Israeli kids behind me sniggering at the pale, dumb kid who even the teacher didn’t like.

My mother had to pick me up from hospital one day – I’d had my head cracked open by a rock-wielding Israelite. I must admit, I may have thrown the first stone. But his was a lot bigger…


How your personal views are worthless (and why you should probably re-think everything you think you know)

I once believed that:
If I don’t wear shoes, I’ll hurt my feet.
If I don’t keep warm, I’ll catch a cold.
I only need to practice yoga to stay fit and healthy.
I only need to stay fit and healthy to be happy.
What’s good for me is good for everyone.

When I was at school I had a friend who was, to be honest, an asshole. He once hawked up a big green lump of phlegm out of the depths of his chest and spat it full in my face. Yes, that kind of asshole. But he was nevertheless my friend, and I loved him, and somehow still do (although we’ve long since lost touch).
He once told me this saying, and it’s stuck with me ever since:
The more you study, the more you learn. The more you learn, the more you know. The more you know, the more you forget. The more you forget, the less you know. So why bother?
Of course it’s a bit silly, but when I heard it then it felt very right. Perhaps because at that time the whole adult world seemed to be pitted in a deadly struggle to teach me crap. Parents, teachers, extended family, family friends, and distant relatives were all hell-bent on cramming my head full of algebra, geology, ancient history and chemistry, at a time when all I really wanted to do was climb trees.
Many years later I read the classic book ‘I Am That’, by Sri Nisargadatta Maharaj, and the following line changed my life:
“Love says ‘I am everything’. Wisdom says ‘I am nothing’. Between the two, my life flows.”
Socrates said:
“All I know is that I know nothing”.
Such simplicity. Such beauty. Such wisdom.
That’s the kind of ancient history I am interested in... 

The reason why most alternative healing doesn’t work: Secondary Gain

 Secondary Gain is a medical term. If you ask a doctor what it means, they’ll know. If you ask a Reiki practitioner, they probably won’t. That’s because it’s a concept that the world of alternative healing has generally not woken up to yet. I believe it’s also one of the main reasons why: most alternative healing doesn’t work; and most personal development methods are inefficient. *

What is secondary gain exactly?

Secondary gain** may be defined as ‘a hidden benefit that is derived from the problem’.

The best example I can give is the one Simon Rose (founder of Reference Point Therapy) gave me when he taught me RPT. It is a true story.

There was an old lady who had cancer. Despite the fact that she had expert care her condition did not improve – against all expectation. When asked the simple (and seemingly ridiculous) question:
“What would you lose if the cancer was healed” she finally replied:
“I would be lonely again”.

Before the diagnosis of cancer, she had been very lonely. When they found out that she was ill, her grandchildren began to visit her daily. Faced with the simple choice between cancer and loneliness, she (subconsciously) chose cancer.


London is burning. (Here's why).

Photograph: Kerim Okten/EPA

I spent 14 years living in London. I lived in Tottenham—North London—where this past weekend’s rioting started, and Hackney, where it continues. I didn’t live in Peckham, Lewisham, Croydon or Brixton—South London—where more rioting has since broken out.
The violence has not only been rife throughout London—on a 30 mile radius—but also throughout England. The cities and counties of Birmingham, Liverpool, Manchester, Bristol and Nottinghamshire have all seen hundreds of people rampaging through streets destroying property and looting.
There are reports of scores of injured police; many shops have been looted; bins, cars, buses, shops and residences have been set alight.
London is burning.

My job was to take a group of up to 15 young people (aged 16 – 25) and help them to turn their lives around. These were young people who had fallen through society’s ‘net’. I worked with drug addicts, prison leavers and pregnant teenage girls. I was alone with this group of 15. There was no funding for the assistant that I was supposed to have.When I moved out of London seven years ago, I worked for one year as a youth worker in Watford (a large town in the suburbs of London), and what I learnt in that year astounded me...