The roar of the train. The massive stones being thrown down like tiny pebbles that have no weight. These are my thoughts; these are my visions of what it is like being me. At age 66, I rock! My life is filled with total exhilaration. The joy of being me is beyond belief, beyond measure. Most important, in the past five years, I could consider only one day as almost bad.
I live a life that is on a continuous high without the booze, without the bar scene, without anything that apparently is a given when happiness is declared. Like possessions. Like family—all important, all necessary as part of our tools to keep us going. But what appears—in my case as a world of blinds—continuous routine are, in reality, my strength for being in the moment as a continuous blessed event.
It is on this note that I explain my joy, my happiness, my rarely ever having a bad day is not merely an accident. It is by continuous choice for each of my moments. Even though my work schedule borders on workaholic obsessive—meaning I work literally every day, seven days a week—beginning at 8:30 a.m. and ending at 8:30 p.m. My eating schedule does not exist since there is no time. My social life is minimal. All this appears to make for a lonely life, without depth or soul. When viewed through my eyes, though, my vision has become glowingly star defying and leaps into the beyond inexplicable.
As to how I live on a daily basis to boast of my joy, I begin with a goal. My personal long-term goal is a goal so noteworthy, so beyond reach, so lofty that it would be laughed at, sneered at by even the most gullible. I, to this day, believe it is not possible but, nevertheless, I saw the words—read them—and I knew instantly those words would forever blaze a symbol of possibility.
As quoted from pages 109 and 110 of Tonya Zavasta’s Quantum Healing, which, in turn, quotes Oleg Vinogradov’s Russian book Dry Fasting: “If in your seventies you look your age, you are not using your body’s full potential. If in your seventies, you look 50, you are using only part of your body’s potential and you are overindulging in food. If in your seventies, you look as though you are 30, you are still eating too much. It is only when you look seventeen when you are seventy that you have found your own path to optimum health.”
Those words captured my interest—not as interesting but as totally insane to do such a thing. Until I read more. Zavasta writes that Vinogradov “is convinced dry fasting eats up not only your diseases and your physical aging but your wrinkles as well.” At the time I read this, about four years ago, when I was 62, I seriously thought that this statement was totally off the wall and, logically and realistically, loony loony. But, on some level, it resonated with me. The “look 17 when you are 70” statement stayed in my mind for four years. Five months shy of my 67th birthday, holy cow—those words began ringing in my ears like lightning bolts of fire that screamed out, believe me! I read those words over and over. I felt the lightning bolts that were vibrating all over my psyche.
It is on this level that my life, which was already joyously occurring on a moment-to-moment basis. Now, after incorporating dry fasting about 90 percent of my days, from 6 p.m. to 10 a.m. the next day, my body’s energetic vibration took a giant leap forward to ecstasy. Mind you, not one other thing changed in my lifestyle. I was still working almost seven days a week, 12 hours daily, with little or no break. With little or no time to do anything but my work or work-related things. I review my daily routine, from having my last meal, which most of the time is a banana whip with dates and carob and tastes kind of like vanilla fudge ice cream. I am, literally, in seventh heaven with every taste of this whip but instinctively know that as the clock approaches 6 p.m., I have no choice in the matter if I am serious about looking 17 years old. I have to put my cup of banana whip in the freezer for the following day.
I, Arnold Kauffman, promise myself no food and no water for 16 hours daily. If I truly believe Vinogradov’s statement, I am committed to dry fasting for the next nine years. In the two-and-a-half months I have been doing this, I feel immensely more focused, more joyously happy—which I never dreamed possible because I had been joyously happy! Holy chihuahua! Is the red dogs in Millville ever to live this statement down? (Editor’s note: This is a parody of “Casey at the Bat.” Whereas Casey struck, Arnold is hitting home runs.)
Each morning, I have my routine, which enables me to never ever have a bad day. These are words that are not in my thinking zone. I innately know every word spoken is heard by my 75 trillion cells, meaning I can speak only of love and gratitude. Otherwise, my cells would be unhappy—and we can’t let that happen. With these words as my sword and shield, I eagerly wake up and am ready to start the best day ever! I know that once I get up, there is no turning back or hiding under the covers and seeking solace from the hard reality of life. As the light spreads its glow upon my room, I’m up.
In my bedroom, I have four gym apparatus, which support my vision and goal. I have a long-term physical goal of appearance. I become my word to make it happen. My first choice is to create my new being is a foot relaxer. This is a step-on board of plastic nodules. At 7 a.m., I am ready for the challenge of stepping on this foot reviver. Each part of your feet represents part of your body—wowie kazowie! Every point represents an organ tissue. I think of the revitalization I’m receiving. As an added bonus, I give myself a massage with my hand beginning from the top of my head and work my way down.
I ask you, “How life can get any better?” Double massage! Now, you, the reader, have a clear understanding of what it takes to continuously be in joyous exhilaration. As if all this joy weren’t enough, my morning routine has barely begun. What I have come to realize over the years is that every moment is precious and that each moment is a cherished gift never to be repeated. So I take my words and possibilities and continue my morning.
I am a man of routine day in and day out. As the clock turns ever so slowly, I understand the cycle of life, flowing upward and downward and spiraling all around. These are the givens of life. How I exercise in the morning keeps me strong physically and mentally. I embrace my lifestyle as a guiding light for me, for others. I also do rebounding, my rock, my salvation, my continual lifeline to happiness to be able to scream out moment after moment, “Life is beyond good! Life is super duper!”
These are my morning tools. I put my 10-pound weights around my wrists, attach boxing gloves and then begin my rebounding routine. Rebounding is my everyday go-to exercise. Here it goes—the way I understand it. Rebounding works on three levels: acceleration up, deceleration down and gravitational pull downward. When you have three separate energies on a single plane, the waste material that surrounds each cell on this up-and-down pumping motion flows out through the lymphatic system, which can be activated only with this pumping motion.
For me, rebounding is a given. I begin crunches—600 almost daily. At 66, I want to be a lean, mean fighting machine although have no desire to be a sexy raw vegan. I do have a strong desire to be young, stay young and look young in my heart and soul. Rebounding resonates with me. I do my crunches, my 200 jumping jacks and my front and side leg kicks and run in place. This is my routine at least five times a week and has been for at least 20 years.
I recall the day it all began. I was in a hospital at the age of 45. I seriously thought I wouldn’t live to be 46. I was laying in a hospital bed with my wife at the time holding one hand and my daughter on the other side, holding my other hand. All this time, I’m thinking “What the heck? How did I get here and what the heck can I do to get out?” It is at this point, my lowest ebb, where life holds you by a thin thread, that I had this epiphany of everything I ever read. There were two simple lines that came roaring into my head like a steamroller out of control. For whatever reason, I recalled two little lines that stated, “Rebounding is the best exercise.” I even recall the page—189— from Fit for Life.
That’s how it happened. The light went on, and I believed and have been rebounding ever since. Jumping up and down, I feel like I’m on top of the world. With each jump, I take the weight off my shoulders. With each jump, I become lighter, stronger and ready to start the day. Add my weight plus the boxing gloves and attached weight, and I’m ready to take on the world.
My psyche is what drives me. I have a mission: “To create an energetic movement for the transformation of a disease-free world.” With that mission statement, I have no choice but to be the light. I have no choice not to ever have a bad day. It was written in the starts. It is written in my everyday lingo and behavior.
Knowing that this is the best day ever, and I hear my words. Life is good. This moment, this day are the best ever.