This is one of those weeks: I am all talked out.

And I rarely say anything twice. I expressed it once, and I am done with it.

34 years ago I started my journey from misery to The Promised Land… It was promised… and I went for it.

It was the last weekend of August back in 1985.

I snuck away from Jerusalem, where I lived at the time. Took the 2-hour bride to Haifa, took a taxi, and voila, my journey began.

It was a Communication Workshop. In Hebrew. My Hebrew was good enough to do work, but was pretty meager for transformational work, so it wasn’t till the last day that I understood a full sentence.

But that didn’t prevent me from having a breakthrough.
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