The Man Cave

There is a thing called a man cave.  It is a room with all the accoutrements a man would love.  I can only assume it's purpose is to escape from the world of women and children.

There is a problem.  I want one.  Can it truly be called a man cave if I want one?  It would have a pool table and a beer fridge.  It would have a home theater, lots of books and movies, and comfy recliners.

I have begun to plan my man cave.  It'll be our basement after the children move out.  I realize that's still a ways off, but it's on the horizon in parent years.  Sean has always wanted a pool table, so that's a big part.  This means the den needs to become a library to take on the displaced bookcases.  I have old books with which to paper the walls for the den.  They moved from New York with us.  With the pool table will be an entertainment center.  Add some great comfy chairs to watch the game, wonderful art, and we're set.

The next best thing to my man cave would be an outdoor kitchen.  Full-on Weber BBQ, fridge, sink, I want it all.  Years ago Sean was out with one of his submarines.  In the wardroom one night the men were discussing barbecues and their wives.  It seems none of the wives truly understood the lure of the the giant barbecue.  The captain turned to Sean, sitting quietly, and asked, "That ever happen to you Chaplain?"  "No sir," Sean replied, "My wife thought I should have gotten a bigger barbecue."  "You're a lucky man" was the response.

An outdoor kitchen, a great man cave, and I love the chainsaw I got for my birthday a couple of years ago.  Now all I need is the time to create and use them!

Gandalf the Gorilla, or Cat on a diet

My cat is on a diet.  He went to the vet yesterday.  (Well, actually Sean drove him.  It's too far to walk, and he can't see over the steering wheel and reach the pedals at the same time.).  The vet weighed him.  Gandalf is, as Sean put it, a fine weight, at least for a small gorilla. He weighs over 15 pounds.  So now, Gandalf is on a diet.  He is not happy.  I believe this will lead to us not being happy.  Gandalf likes food overnight.  He is likely to be a pain due to the empty food bowl.  Of course Gandalf likes food all the time.

Then there is Nora.  She is our older cat.  She is sweet, and not naturally the dominant cat.  However, she also does not want Gandalf to be the dominant cat.  Nora wants to eat the food in the convenient place.  That place is in my bedroom where Gandlaf's food is.  Nora is also small, almost too small.  She needs to self-feed.  Luckily, she is also agile.  We have placed her food on a high service to which Gandalf, in his largeness, cannot jump.  She is not happy with us.  She does not want to work for her food.

It's going to be interesting.

Times That Try Women's Souls (and All Thinking, Caring People)

Many (many, many) years ago I wrote in my rabbinical school application essays that I wanted to change the world.  How? By reaching out to and touching one person's heart and soul at a time.  In small ways I have been successful.  We never know the full nature of the impact we have, but we are sometimes given glimpses of it.  I believed then, and still do that we can impact the world through kindness, teaching, and understanding, and through reaching out to connect with others.  Worlds are lost or saved both by those willing to stand up and speak and by those who whisper in the ears of others

My impact, as I say, is small.  I am lucky/blessed to have been born into a country where standing up for one's rights or the rights of others was, not only allowed, but expected.  I have had the privilege of campaigning for candidates in whom I believed, protest against projects and policies I could not stomach, and candid discussion with my own elected representatives.  With all these blessings my heart currently aches for Malala Yousafzai.  If you have been living in a closet, Malala Yousafzai is a 14 year old girl in Pakistan.  Three years ago Malala's diary, written under a pen name, sharing life under the Taliban, was published through the BBC.  Since then, Malala has come to prominence, culminating in a documentary, Pakistan's first National Youth Peace Prize, and a nomination for the International Children's Peace Prize.  For me and most of the world, Malala entered our lives four days ago when she was shot in an assassination attempt by the Taliban.  

It tries the heart and the soul when so-called religious leaders are so threatened by a young girl (or by) to send a masked gunman to kill her.  My heart aches for Malala and the girls (and boys) whose names I don't know.  What of those who have understandably bowed to the fear and stay at home hidden from sight?  

I have never understood the mindset that brings people to the extremes.  Whether right or left, standing on the extremities seems to blind people to the value of those not like them.  How can any person look at another and not see the amazing worth and potential in each of us, regardless of gender, religion, or color?  I cannot understand a religion or culture or country that would shut out the creativity of half its people due to gender.  If God created so many differences in the world, why would we believe God created only one way to relate to divinity?  

Malala, you don't know me.  It is unlikely I will ever have the honor and privilege of meeting you.  But, you are in my thoughts.  Even here, where my own daughter and sons are growing up with the benefits of open education and free speech I will teach your lessons.  They will know your name.  And if the power of hope and prayer can effect healing, I add mine to those around the world.  In Jewish tradition, at a child's birth, and other significant moments we pray that parents will be able to raise their child to learning, marriage (in a relationship of equals), and ma'asim tovim, good works.  You are on the path.  I pray that you have decades of more learning and work to do.

Ushpizin.

Sukkot is a time filled with guests at our house.  Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are too focused on the synagogue and long days.  Any intervening Shabbatot are desperately needed rest times.  Sukkot is the time to share.

It seems natural.  After all, our week is spent in an outdoor structure that, even with a locking door, is open to the elements and the world.  Additionally, our sukkah is a bit of a showcase.  Sean says it takes longer to hang the decorations than it does to build the darn thing.  He's probably right, but don't tell him I said so.  Our decorations consist mostly of souvenirs from our trips, plus a beloved theme of "swimmy things" for the kids and birds for me.  There are at least 13 birds.  I have lost count of the fish.  Additionally we have hanging Monticello, Mt Vernon, Shenandoah, and the Empire State Building.  We have a beaver, a penguin, and a Guantanamo Bay iguana on a spoon rest (I'm sure it is unique to our sukkah alone in North America).  We have snowflakes and a beach.  In one corner, in a place of honor, hangs a curtain with the outlines of the kids' hands every year from Keren's first Sukkot.

All these things are to entice and interest the visitors to our sukkah.  These visitors come physically and spiritually.  Sean likes small gatherings.  He doesn't want to be a slave to the dishes while commemorating our wandering after being redeemed from slavery.  For me, the bigger the crowd, the better.  I love taking the time to plan and prepare special foods for the holiday.  There is always stuffed cabbage, mandelbrot, and honey cake.  We have carrot and pumpkin soups, and lots of honey.

Beyond the physical guests in the sukkah, we invite spiritual guests.  This comes from a kabbalistic ritual, which we generally do not practice, but discussion at the table always focuses upon this.  Who would we each invite, and why?  In the past we've had some fascinating and wonderful guests.  Some were famous, others infamous.  This year Jesse wanted to invite Erwin Rommel, aka The Desert Fox.  Jesse had some questions to ask him.  Others on our lists have included Sean's Aunt Min, Rosa Robota (a cousin of mine), Woody Guthrie, Golda Meir, Rabbi AJ Heschel, Rose Schneiderman & Clara Lemlich, David Ben Gurion, Justice Louis Brandeis, King Hussein of Jordan, and Debbie Freedman.  This year included Julia Child, Julie Powell (I wanted to discuss cooking), and Julie Andrews.

Tomorrow I think I might invite A.A. Milne.  I'd like to know what he thinks of Edgar Allan Pooh (http://bizarrocomic.blogspot.ca/2011/01/pooh-talk.html and http://www.indyhumor.com/stories/raven.htm).  I'm a fan of both Poe and Pooh, but I think they've now been ruined forever.  Maybe I'll just invite Winnie himself.  That'd be nice, but we'd need more honey.

Hazak, Hazak, V'nit'hazayk: Coming Full Circle

Hazak hazak v’nit’hazayk

Be strong; be strong, and let us be strengthened.

As we finish each of the five Books of the Torah, we stand, and recite together the words, Hazak hazak, v’nit’hazayk; be strong, be strong, and let us a strengthened. It is a cheer, a shout of approval for our accomplishment, but also so much more. It is a call to not leave off at this end, but to start over.

Our tradition teaches that Ezra the scribe, approximately 500 BCE, instituted the practice of reading the Torah publicly on Mondays and Thursdays. These were the market days of the time, when Jews would be in town to hear the reading. Additionally he added Shabbat afternoons to give a start to the new week. Ezra also set these as the days when the beit din would meet, with the words of Torah fresh in their minds. Each week we read a piece until the entire Torah is read aloud. Then, in a never-ending cycle, we begin again. As modern Jews, the reading of the Torah seems almost mundane. However, if we think about other world religions the uniqueness of Jewish practice becomes clear. The Torah is the inheritance of each and every Jew. We are all expected to read and study its words. We are all expected to hear its meanings and lessons. To this end, rather than to solidify their own power, our early leaders, from Moshe to Ezra, decreed that Torah would be read aloud at opportunities for the community to hear. Until some time in the Middle Ages, the reading of the entire Torah took three to three-and-a-half years to ensure time for study and sermons (JPS Commentary on Deuteronomy). In this manner Torah becomes a familiar thing to Jews.

No other religion reads its text aloud in its entirety. No other religion expects all its adherents to know, not only the words, but the meaning of the text, as Judaism does. Through this we are strengthened as individuals and as a people.

Soon we will celebrate the end of one cycle and the start of the next. In Israel, Shemini Atzeret and Simchat Torah are one day, linking the cycle of the year, with the recitation of Geshem, as we add the prayer for rain, the cycle of life, with Yizkor, and the cycle of Torah, with Simchat Torah. Here we will stretch this to two days, but the themes will be the same. We end our year standing on the shores of the Jordan, looking over and praying for our land, but, in that same moment, we begin anew, celebrating the joy of Torah in our lives an the blessing of this never-ending cycle that identifies us as Jews, unique in the world.