Help, get me out of here!

When I was obsessed with status symbols. It took my many years – and the birth of my two children – to realise that cars are just hunks of metal that move us about.

Psychologically, I prepared myself for everything I could think of: snakes, spiders, heat, hardship, even conflict between the celebrities.
But one thing I never expected was a vicious attack in the paper I write for every week.
When I came out of the rain forest and read what Kevin O’Sullivan had been writing about me I felt betrayed.
The insults, I could take. Hey, if you put your head above the parapet, people are going to take pot shots.
I could even laugh at the way they made me out to be a letch. Some people have a problem with ‘hands- on healing’. They don’t understand the way those forces work. It makes them feel big to belittle the process by insinuating smut.
Some people also have a problem with my accent and my manner. Israeli brashness is often mistaken for rudeness.
All this, I can understand.
But that story about my wife Hannah was a step too far.
She is by my side now as I write this.
She has asked me to tell you that she never ‘ran in tears’ from the viewing room. She knows me well and we love each other passionately. The only tears she shed were tears of laughter at some of my antics and of amazement when I had to eat those creepy-crawlies.

That story about Hannah was a hurtful fabrication. Our kids, too, say that their words were twisted in stories that appeared. But we are not going to get angry. For when any of us ever let anger get the better of us, our psychic abilities are compromised. And they are the most valuable things we can ever have.