From Holy Books to Hollywood

My Story of Remembering

Have you ever noticed how life has a way of bringing you full circle? Here I am, once again a spiritual guide, but with a twist that would make my younger self's head spin.

The Original Script

Picture this: A young boy in ultra-orthodox Jerusalem, diving deep into holy texts, dreaming of becoming the next great rabbi. Except there was a catch – I was also running heroin to my parents between Torah studies. Talk about a double life. My first lesson in hustling came early.

Every bus ride was a mix of terror and determination. Drugs in my sock, prayers on my lips, sitting next to soldiers and seminary students. Even then, I was learning to wear masks, to navigate different worlds, to be whatever others needed me to be. Already a hustler in training, though I didn't know it yet.

The Great Escape

At 14, I made a choice that would flip my world upside down. I left for America carrying nothing but courage, dreams, and my Tefillin. Every challenge became a new chapter – learning English, navigating public school, explaining to new friends why I'd never watched TV or spoken to a girl.

By 21, I had launched and sold a tech startup. The American Dream achieved! On the outside, I was the poster child for immigrant success. But inside? I was still that scared kid on the bus, just with better hustles. Different masks, same fear.

The Spiritual Bypass

On 11/11/11, I made a decision that would change everything: I quit my tech career to be available to work with people. It felt like answering a calling that had been whispering to me since those days in Jerusalem. But I was still carrying my original lie: "I'm not good enough, powerful enough, or medicine enough on my own."

So I did what any good hustler would do – I found a more sophisticated mask. From coding to consciousness engineering, from network architecture to navigating altered states. I traded my startup hustle for spiritual hustle, leading ceremonies in Beverly Hills mansions.

The irony was excruciating. People would leave my ceremonies feeling transformed, calling me a powerful healer, a gifted guide. They'd look at me with eyes full of gratitude and wonder. And there I was, feeling like an impostor, knowing that without the external medicines, without the spiritual theatrics, I was still that frightened boy, unworthy of love or recognition.

I kept serving, kept facilitating, kept showing up for others. My heart wouldn't let me stop – it knew something my mind didn't. But inside, I was tormented. Every praise felt like a knife twist. Every transformation I facilitated made me feel more fraudulent. How could I guide others to their truth when I was hiding from my own?

The Autocorrect

Life has a way of course-correcting when we stray too far from our truth. My shadows caught up with me, chasing me across continents, all the way back to Israel. Seven years of what mystics call "the dark night of the soul" followed.

Legal threats loomed. Relationships crumbled. The carefully constructed facade of the powerful shamanic guide began to crack. But amidst this collapse, I made a promise to myself: I would not return to hustling. Not in business, not in spirituality, not in anything. I knew that if I started working with people professionally again, my own needs would inevitably corrupt the work.

Those seven years were a special kind of torture. No more substances to hide behind. No more ceremonies to lead. No more adoring clients to validate me. Most challengingly – no more hustling to make ends meet. Just me, my fears, and the growing realization that I had been running my entire life. I vowed to stay in this uncomfortable space until I fully fused with my true self, until I genuinely remembered who I was beneath all the hustle.

The Remembering

In the darkness, something profound emerged. The very thing I feared most – being seen in my truth – was actually my path to freedom. My journey wasn't about becoming more powerful or spiritual or wise. It was about remembering that I already was the medicine I was trying to facilitate for others.

All these experiences – the ultra-orthodox upbringing, the household of addiction, the tech hustle, the shamanic journeys, the dark night of the soul – they weren't random plot points. They were life's way of showing me that my truth wasn't just safe; it was my greatest gift to the world.

The boy running drugs in Jerusalem, the tech entrepreneur, the urban shaman – they were all me, all valid, all part of the medicine. The real transformation wasn't in transcending these aspects of myself, but in embracing them, in letting them all be part of my truth.

The Integration

Now, here's the cosmic irony: I'm once again a spiritual guide. But this time, without the hustle, without the need for external substances or validation. This time, from a place of presence rather than performance. No more masks, no more hiding, no more pretending to be more or less than I am.

I'm developing a TV show called "High Priest" (yes, really!), working on a memoir titled "Diary of a Recovering Hustler," and most importantly, sharing frameworks like the Healer's Journey and 42 – tools that emerged from my own path of remembering. Because the greatest gift we can give others is permission to be exactly who they are, without the need to hustle for worthiness.

The Invitation

Your journey might look different from mine. But I bet you've felt that pull between who you're supposed to be and who you really are. Maybe you're in your own Journey Out, searching for answers in the external world. Or perhaps you're experiencing your Autocorrect moment, being pushed to look within.

Wherever you are, know this: Your struggles aren't random. They're not punishment. They're invitations to remember who you truly are. Your truth isn't just safe – it's your medicine. Your story isn't just valid – it's vital.

This newsletter is my way of walking beside you on that journey. Not as a guru with all the answers, but as a fellow traveler who's learned that our deepest wounds often hold our greatest gifts.

Ready to remember who you really are?

With presence and truth, Oriya

P.S. Want to explore your own story of remembering? Download the 42 Framework Guide or book a Soul Reading with me.