Displaying items by tag: dreams

When I was 13, I believe, not sure, but yeah - ninth grade, I believe so, I was playing with firecrackers. 

Being the rowdy "Rathore" (not really, hehe) sort, I was the sort that used to burst those ... I dont know how do you describe them? 

"Bombs" we called 'em, and the massive BANG those crudely made firecrackers caused would make the whole house shake. 

Back in those days, before Diwali (the festival of lights, supposedly, but it turned into a cacophony of noise and smoke so thick you could barely see anything in your own house with all the thick smoke drifting in - and on the roads, it would seem like there was more paper than road, so solid was the firecracker bursting and the revelries "back in the day". I still remember our next door neighbor (well, the guys in front) really getting into it - three guys, their wives, all going all night long - with the crackers, hehe. They're stilll  living there. Good guys, all of 'em! Hehe. Well, two are there, the Dad passed on, and I believe one of the sons left. 

That often happens, another neighbor, two sons - one "left" because he was gay or something (so goeth the story). 

I dont know, to me, it seems like the Prodigal Son often leaves, hehe. 

He may return for short bursts, but he never stays - is never really down - has never really been down ... and so forth. He belives in the power of the Mind, and uses it to perform miracles, and ... ah, but where was I, my brother?) 

Lets get back to it. 

Gushing blood, like from a geyser!

.... so back in those days, people would start fooling around with crackers a month or so before the actual festival and days after. 

"Rockets" would launch into the sky - and you'd hear nothing but "bombs" everywhere. Hehe. Bang Bang Bang. 

I rather liked it growing up, as opposed to the hooliganism of "Holi" (festival of colors) where you'd be pelted with water balloons at all times of the day regardless of whether or not you actually did participate in the festival (I wrote about it here once). 

But anyway .. 

One night, I was bursting some "cloth bombs". 

These were crudely made "devices" (I dont know how else to put it!) with blue cloth interwoven, a tiny wick (you literally had to light it and RUN or the damned thing would blow up in your face) ... 

And what we'd do - or I'd do - and my Dad gave me this trick - I'd put a piece of paper under neath it, light that, and then until the flame got to the wick, I'd be at a safe distance. 

So it was supposed to be. 

One night, I wasn't. 

And the damn bomb burst... and initially, I felt nothing. 

Tilted my head, and blood literally GUSHED from it. 

I rushed "upstairs" to the house we were in then (we were on the second floor, two others on the first and "ground" (in India apparently first floor is ground an dso forth). 

I remember Mom screaming. 

Dad to his credit didnt - he showed up with ice and a towel, hehe. 

That towel was soaked to the "bone" in less than a minute. 

I remember it. 

Blood, blood, blood everywhere!

Not quite Sharon Stone in "The Specialist" moaning about "i never know blood could be so sticky" (that movie was hilarious in some ways) - but to me, I was wondering two things. 

One, the damn shrapnel hit right above my right eye- so I was thinking, I'm lucky it didnt take my eye out!

I still have the scar. Hehe. 

Two, I was thinking "the first time I got really injured". 

Three, I was thinking about writing to you about it. 

Hehe. 

Nah. 

Not really. 

That was when Rahul was 13!

Anyway, the head is a most vascular place, friend. If you're wondering or have ever wondered how the WWE wrasslers (back in the day) used to bleed like stuck pigs - well - they used to have tiny razors hidden away in their wrist bands, and they'd slit their foreheads a bit when no-one was looking. 

Remember Steve Austin vs Bret Hart - that iconic "last man standing " or "I quit" match in WrestleMania? 

The match that turned Hart from "Hero" to heel, and Austin from bad guy to good + bad + the biggest star ever? 

Iconic images of Austin "bathed" in blood were beamed around the world globally (to his credit, Bret Hart is one of the best - a "real wrestler" trained by Stu Hart and the lot in their basement - their Mom would hear the kids scream in pain when Daddy was training them, no wonder they turned out as brutal wrestlers! REal men!- he was the one that won, but Austin won the crowd!)

Anyway, I showed up at school with my version of a "bandit bandage" with that damn thing tied around my head - and of course, that happened once on the chin too. Hehe. 

Nothing if not pungacious and "violent" I've often been. 

Of course, it's always been with bigger guys pounding the heck out of me - but here's the thing. 

Weak or not, I fought back. 

To me, that is KEY. 

And perhaps part of the reason I do all this now is because I wanted to be in super physical shape when young, yet had neither the tools nor info to get in that shape (pink dumbells were there tho, ugh. Thats OK, Dad, I used them for the other biz! Always the "money minded" man I am, hehe). 

Money grubber, I was going to say, but that ain't me. I'm the precise and polar opposite. 

Anyway.............

The tricks and tools to get into the best shape of my life are HERE. 

Get 'em now, my friend. 

The pre-order we have going on NOW is Lumberjack "Lodestone" Fitness. Get this now too - you'll love it. 

And of course, pick up 16 INspirational fitness Recollections here. 

(the gory one above ain't mentioned, plenty of other great ones are though!). 

That, friend, is that. 

Back soon!

Best, 

Rahul Mookerjee

The kind of moments that COUNT, that make you really feel it . . . and as I almost burst into tears (literally).  .  .

But wait. Let me recount from start to finish (or mostly everthing, for that matter). As is the case I’m writing this here first email of the day for ANY of my businesses BEFORE I check my email, sales, the news, sh-news, and the latest “chit chat” on Weshat, whatsapp, or any of the other apps.

In fact, I SHUT down all those apps on my phone before I go to bed.

Which for whatever reason right now is a . . . ah, but we’ll get into that later as well. But anyway, I shut down all those annoying apps - - and in the middle, I used to turn off my WIFI and data as well.

I think I wrote to you a while ago about turning off my WIFI service, and seeing if I “lived”  without it. Turned out I did just fine, and the reason I do what I do is so I’m not besieged by annoying messages the moment I wake up.

I’d rather have my FIRST thoughts of the day.

Anyway, my wife and me were going at it. As usual, or sometimes I should say. We can be an “Italian couple” on occasion!

“Yes, and the car DOES matter”, she was pouting (I believe).

“I’m buying a new one next month!” she triumphantly said. “A Skoda at that!”

Does any of it really matter, I remember asking her.

“Yes it does!”

Whatever, I replied.

And there we were a few hours later sitting in a “get together of sorts”. My wife’s friends mostly, all huddled around to convince me that it “did matter”.

I took it for a while. Listened to all the BS.

And then, as is my wont, I piped all of a sudden.

“Look dude”, I remember telling one particularly annoying fat slob (a doctor if I remember right!).

“I could care less if you think your three houses, fifty cars, retinue of servants and what not is the most important thing on the planet. Hey, go for it. But I don’t!”

“He doesn’t care about anything!” my wife sagely noted. “All he’s interested in is writing and getting those darn books of his out. And talking about topics that don’t interest me at all!”

“Well, why are you still with me”, I Remember laughing.

“You have a great job, a great paycheck” (NB – this isn’t exactly the case in real life, but we’ll get into that more below! ?.

“Yet, you continue to choose to stay “stuck with me”” I said.

And back to dude.

“Dude. What I care about it shit that matters. And what I care about is that I CAN knock your damn lights out if I want to regardless of all your external accrouments if you pester me up and down all damn hour long like you’ve been doing a while”.

That seemed to shut him up.

A short while later, the “doorbell” buzzed I believe.

“Ugh”, I said. “Again!”

“There”, my wife piped up. “HE’s a hermit that prefers to live in a cave!”

(Hey, I wrote about THAT before too! ? Mr Wolf doing handstands . . . )

Anyway, the seas were a rolling outside.

Wave after threatening wave, and the skies were GREY, dark, and overcast. We were out at sea on the USS Alabama (I don’t know why that name comes to mind!).

And then I left the “soiree”.

Retreated to my quarters, talked to my mates.

All of whom were heavily bandaged from the war.

The kind you don’t see in the movies. Not the pretty scars that leave the hero looking even more like a hero.

REAL scars. REAL ugly stuff that occurs in battle, and we huddled around in solidarity.

And there was a book lying on the floor.

A green hardcover book, and idly I looked at it.

The cover was flipped open, so I flipped it back.

And I saw it. The silverback gorilla staring up at me, and the words “Gorilla Grip – Advanced” staring back at me.

It was MY BOOK!

And obviously one of these men had bought it  . . .

A wellspring of emotion bubbled up in me, but I kept in check.

And then one of the dudes piped up. Heavily bandaged, barely able to move.

And he stooped down (I know I make it seem like he was old, but he wasn’t. Some were young, some middle aged, but none old. The travesties of real war as it were. Men up top make the decisions, and the brainwashed masses believe they’re fighting for their “country” and EVERYONE in the middle dies. Not mine, but a short version of what Rambo said in Rambo IV) and picked up the book.

“You know, that’s a damned good book!”

And I woke up, ready to burst into TEARS. Literally, so powerful was the emotion that I wrote it down pronto in my dream diary, and am now sharing it with YOU.

My buddy from the Marines once “broke down” when we were sharing a few beers together, and he called me up the next day and said the following.

“Hey man. I’m sorry! I lost control!”

My response?

“Don’t be! That happens, man! After all, what do guys drink together for? Man, that happens!”

And it does, my friend. It does. Especially when “old war horses” get together to share memories, drinks etc . . .

Anyway, before all this the current India China conflict where the situation is very dangerous poised right now (despite what the “sh-news” tells you, the two countries are already in a limited conflict that could involve the whole world) was flashing HEAVY in my mind.

I was dreaming about SOMETHING related to that all night long, and a sentence was appearing in my mind just as vividly as all the above did (I can still remember the color of the sea!).

And oddly enough, I’ve forgotten what it was, since that was the “first dream” of the night, and I never did write it down.

I DO write everything down, of course, but sometimes, when Im in deep sleep, I just turn over and let the dream continue and figure I’ll write it down “later” which usually works, but sometimes not!

Anyway, I will probaby read about the exact same thing on the news later, or hear about it somehow. Prophetic I know, but that’s how these dreams tend to be for me.

Point of all this? The emotion?

Why did I almost burst into tears?

Because my work is getting into the right hands, my friend. People that matter. People that do the right thing, and are willing to fight and die for the freedoms the rest of y’all enjoy.

People that don’t believe in kitty party BS.

People that are the REAL deal.

Real MEN. Real soldiers. Real WARRIORS.

And to all of you out there, my friend, a tip of the hat, and a cold one from me. You guys are the reason I do this, and you deserve it! ?

Best,

Rahul Mookerjee

PS – And yes, that was a real dream. Happens to me often . . . often times, I’ll see sales in my dream before they actually occur!

PS – Anyway, HERE is where you can pick up the original Gorilla Grip. And HERE is where you can pick up the COMPILATION - https://0excusesfitness.com/gorilla-grip-the-compilation/

This one may come across as a bit of a strange thing to say, but bear with me (as usual,hehe).

I’ve often spoken about the power of dreams, both dreams you have when you’re awake, and when you’re FAST ASLEEP.

And with regard to the latter, I have often spoken about the vivid and very colorful indeed dreams I have, and how not just MOST of the time, but ALL the time, they’ve given me valuable information to use in my daily life.

Or, predicted events that would occur later.

In certain cases (a guy named Jack Lin being one prime example) showed me people and told me names in a way I couldn’t recognize from Adam at the time of the dream, people who I ended up meeting and working for weeks or months later.

In the case of Jack Lin, I actually did some work for him three weeks or so after having the dream which was set in a bar where “Charles” (and I know many people by that name!) asked me to go with him to Jack Lin’s bar.

That was the dream, and if knowing the result you have any doubts that the subconscious thinks in pictures, well, there is proof enough.

It was actually FATE that introduced me to a guy named Jack Lin and a guy named Tim who ultimately ended up recommending me . . .

Anyway, the point of me saying all this?

Is this.

Often times, I have dreams - - multiple and seemingly unconnected dreams.

First good, second bad. Or the second terrible, and the first and third awesome.

OR a combo therein.

And what happens ALL of the time is things come true per these dreams, but they do so, almost inevitably in reverse.

What I dream about the first usually happens last, sometimes even before the “fag” end of the day!

And what I dream about “last” happens FIRST.

And that’s how it’s always been for me.

Again, point of me bringing this up you ask?

Well, simple enough, pally. FITNESS is the same!

Most people think “six pack” or “muscular sides” when they think fitness (any sort of fitness – and lets face it, even the so called “I’m a big guy, not fat!” crowd wants just that).

If they didn’t, they wouldn’t . . . ah, but we went there, did we not. Hehe. In a prior email or many . . .

After that, it’s usually big arms. Or muscle on the chest.

Then the upper back.

And then “solid legs and thighs”. Perhaps the “diamond shaped calves” (most ignore that part of the body altogether!).

And guess what comes first.

If you guessed legs, you’d be right.

Guess what comes second.

IF you guessed BACK, you’d be right!

The specifics differ for each person, of course, but by and large, your body whips the most important parts of you into shape - - in that order.

And so it should be, my friend!

And that’s truly how dreams come true - - of any nature.

Get the most important things out of the way first.

Do the heavy lifting and SPADEWORK FIRST.

Set a solid base!

And once you’re past all that, focus on the smaller things you want to get done.

And this is sage advice that not just me, but anyone that’s achieved anything of note will tell you and then some!

Alright, enough talk from me. Here’s where you can grab the BEST damned fitness system first (and yes there is a reason I focus on legs and back the MOST!) –https://0excusesfitness.com/0excusesfitnessystem/

Best,

Rahul Mookerjee

P.S. – Pushups give you a full body workout including the legs. Yes, that’s right. The LEGS too! Pick up our MUCH VAUNTED course on pushups right HERE, and find out why!