Anything that we do as human beings, whether it be a sporting event, starting a business, going to college or simply deciding to venture out on your own away from home for the first time. ANY TASK YOU CHOOSE TO UNDER TAKE, OR ANY FIGHT YOU CHOOSE TO FIGHT. 90% OF WHAT IT TAKES TO ATTAIN YOUR GOAL, NO MATTER WHAT THAT GOAL MAY BE, IS ALL MENTAL. AND FROM THAT FEAR IS THE KEY TO IT ALL! IF YOU CAN CONTROL YOUR FEAR YOU CAN CONTROL YOUR MIND, AND IF YOU CAN CONTROL YOUR MIND YOU CAN CONTROL YOUR LIFE. If you can understand that everything we do as human beings is 90% mental, and 10% physical, you understand the secret to life. And you will do well, at what ever you choose to do! For myself, somehow using the Silva Mind Control methods, I had the ability to picture myself performing extraordinary feats on the playing field, and then somehow accomplishing them in reality with ease, just like it was second nature. Don't think, just do.
June 1982-
My parents, when they were still together, had invested in several houses in
the area, and rented them out as supplemental income. In June of 1982, my
mother, my self and my sister move into the house we used to rent out in
Ramsey, and put the house we just left on the market for sale (basically my
father moved into one house we owned in Waldwick, we moved into the other
house in
Ramsey,
and my parents sold the "big" house in Ho-Ho-Kus we all
used to live in and split the money in the divorce). Our "new" house in
Ramsey was located only about 10 minutes from the old house in Ho-Ho-Kus
but it was in a different school district. I am 12 years old and going
into 7th grade. Also starting in a new school.
July 11th 1983-
My mother had been dating a man who's name was Walter Johnson. They
had been seeing each other for the past 2 years or so and were engaged
to be married. My parent's had finalized their divorce earlier that
year, he had been separated from his wife for about 4 years. On July
11th 1983, Mr. Johnson went over to his soon to be x-wife's house to
sign and finalize their divorce papers. Unknown to Mr. Johnson, his
soon to be x-wife (Sally Johnson) had stolen a .357 magnum pistol
from her brother.
What happened next was the following, as Mr. Johnson was hunched over at his desk in the basement of his old house signing the divorce papers. Sally Johnson came up behind him and said "If I cannot have you no one else will" and shot him in the back of his head. He died instantly, and when the police finally found him two days later his head had been completely blown off his body. EVERY WORD OF THIS UNFORTUNATELY IS ALL TRUE. His name again was Walter Johnson. He was the Director for Senior Executive Personnel for the EXXON Oil Corp. New York office. He was killed on July 11th 1983 in Ridgewood, New Jersey. He was my mother's fiancee.
My mother, for the next several years was beyond any rational means of description in terms of hysteria, and grieving. Her German friend Astrid was a great help in her time of need. What this did to me however was the following. As a 12 year boy, coming home from school and seeing and hearing your mother crying EVERYDAY, AND ALL DAY and then ALL NIGHT, AND EVERY NIGHT is very hard on a 12 year old boy. She was beyond the word devastated. So, obviously at the time, I'm not too anxious to go home after school. For a while I got into some trouble (hanging out with the wrong crowd that sort of thing). Then I discovered my new passion, working out and WEIGHTLIFTING! It became an obsession. In the 7th grade I began working out everyday. I would ride my bike up to the high school every day and workout for hours, and I mean 2 to 3 hours EVERYDAY (anything to avoid going home)!
Dec 1983-
From the start
I was an exceptionally strong kid. Again, somehow I just had the ability to
picture doing something in my mind (see my self doing it) and then do it in
real life. Using the Silva mind control I would lay in bed and mentally go
through the next day's workout. For example, I would go to my "level" and
concentrate. I would picture myself bench pressing 195 for 10 reps, then
205 for 8, 215 for 6 etc.. I bench pressed 305 pounds in the 8th grade.
This was more than anyone in the high school could do. Needless to say I
was HATTED by all the high school upper classmen football players before I
even got into high school. I am 14 years old and in the 8th grade. I
also set the grade school high jump record (5'-10") and tied the 60, 100,
and 200 yard dash records.
Aug-1984- 1987-
My first three years in high
school were NOT typical. I played football in the fall. Specifically did
not play Basketball in the winter so I could workout everyday. Threw the
shot put and the discuss in the spring (track and field) and then would
workout like a mad man in the summer to get ready for football in the fall
again. I excelled in all the sports in which I participated in.
As a Freshman, I was one of the best running back in the county. We were division champions, and the head varsity football coach (Coach Hyman) asked me to practice with the Varsity squad for the Thanksgiving day game. The quarterback and captain of the football team (Peter Bebei) when he got word of this cornered me in the hall with about six other football players and he told me that if I showed up to practice for his final game that he and all the other guys were going to beat the shit out of me in the parking lot. He did not want me "stealing his thunder" for his final game. I didn't go out for the Thanksgiving game and this really annoyed Coach Hyman since he believed that I had turned him down. Track season comes in the spring and I go out for the track team. I go out for shot put and the discuss as well as the 100 yard dash and the high jump. Coach Hyman coaches the "weight" throwers and won't allow me to throw with the varsity even though I am the third best thrower on the team. I confront him about this and finally he lets me throw. In the 100 the fastest kid (I forget his name) tells me after the first day of track practice that if I beat him again that he is going to kick my ass. So I don't try my best. Why does every one hate me? I keep asking myself. I earn a varsity letter in track anyway.
In the fall Sophomore year Coach Hyman is having real problems with his marriage and being an utter ASS Hole to everyone (teachers, students, and athletes ). One of my talents, if you will, is that I can judge a person's character within minutes of meeting them. By their body language, gestures, personality etc. I can size up the person's worst fear, what they are feeling, what they want all in a matter of moments. It's like reading a person's soul as easily as you are reading these words. I just seem to have a "knack" for it. Anyway, I walk into Coach Hyman's office during one of the breaks and say to him "don't worry Coach, everything will work out with you and your wife." Trying to be helpful. He freaks out and starts yelling "get out of here you F*CKING piece of shit and don't come back because YOU WILL NEVER PLAY HERE AS LONG AS I AM THE COACH." The next day he brings me into the deans office and tells me to "quit" because I will never play at Ramsey High school. I never quit but for the next two years everyday at practice he would scream at me to "get off his field" and I wouldn't. Not for any great love for him or the game by any means. It was simply stay and get yelled at or go home to my hysterically crying mother. So I stayed and took his abuse but he felt so violated that I knew what was going on in his life he didn't want me any where near him, and of course I was right next to him for everything because I wouldn't quit. This made him extremely hostile towards me.
This continued all through high school. The thing is, every now and then, whether it was going into the locker room at half time or after the game getting back on the bus, or at the track meets I REMEMBER seeing the same two military men (Mr. Green and Mr. Blue). I would play in 10 football games per year and throw in approximately 20 twenty track meets a year. Thinking back I only saw these men 2 or 3 times a year. To be honest I only remember seeing these men twice at football games during my four years in high school. Both times I was walking off the field after the game and I started looking for my parents and I looked into the crowd, and they were, just standing there in the middle of a sea of moving people looking right at me. And I said the same thing "that's odd, what the Hell are those two guys doing here." And again I would just dismiss it. I would mainly see them at the track meets. Let me explain, in High school track there are two types of meets. The track team schedule consisted of 10-12 "Bi or Tri" meets, when our school competes against another school, or two other schools, in which case it is a tri meet. These are small meets and I NEVER saw these men during one of them. The other types of meets are the county meets, relay meets, and state meets. These meets consist of 20 to 30 TEAMS being there. As such these are huge events. I would say between 5,000 and 10,000 people would be there (I mean some of these things were HUGE events). Anyway, how did I pick out these two men among 10,000 people. The way these meets work is everyone sort of goes to their own area. The pole volters go to the pole volt area, the high jumpers go to the high jump pit, and each area has it's own crowd which then forms around each area (all the coaches of those athletes, the parents etc. etc.). So, the shot put circle usually is over and off to the side somewhere, basically clear of everything else. As we began to throw, all the competing athletes, the coaches, and the parents would all sort of gather in the same area to watch the event.
At least once a year at one of these big meets my eye would just catch the odd site of these two men in uniform at these meets. I honestly convinced myself that at least one of them had to have a son that was competing or something. It wasn't unusual to see men in uniforms at the track meets because other kids were going to go to school at the military academies and as the meets transpired I occasionally saw other men in uniforms walking around and talking to people. For example the shot putter from Lodi was going to go to West Point, and I saw another man in a green uniform over talking to him. What made this all so weird was the two men I'm talking about were looking at me and I didn't know why. I didn't put it all together until years later.