I am typing this from the lap of my human, Jennifer. She left me in the house all day while she worked in the yard. Sometimes, it's so frustrating not to have thumbs. I've tried and tried to open the screen door with my nose and paws, but it just won't slide properly. Gandalf was outside of course. He gets to run free almost whenever he wants. Eventually, Jen turned on the sprinkler, and Gandalf was chasing the water. How ridiculous? He was soaking wet by the time he came in.
Anyway, Jen worked outside for most of the day, ignoring me. When she came in she finally sat down in my favorite chair. I love to sit on her lap in that chair. It's my spot. Tonight she sat with the computer open for me, dozing off, so I can type.
Pleasant dreams.
Sunday, May 5, 2013
The Demise of My Nimrod Sandals, z"l
Twenty years ago Sean & I were spending our first year of marriage in Israel. One of the first things we bought after moving into our apartment was a pair of Nimrod sandals for each of us. This was my second pair of Nimrods. I bought a pair in 1985 on USY Pilgrimage. I wore that pair all summer, every summer for many years. It lived a good life, but eventually fell apart.
I loved that pair of sandals, and so, a new pair was one of the first purchases I made when I returned to Israel. I have worn those wonderful, biblical-style sandals from the first warm day of spring to the last warm day of fall for almost twenty years. They have been my favorite sandals. The wonderful thing about Israeli, biblical sandals is their versatility. They go with jeans. They go with shorts. They go with slacks for work, and dressses for synagogue or a night out. They can be worn for a nice evening or at the beach. They are the most versatile footwear ever.
On Thursday my fav Nimrods met their demise. The soles cracked, and flaked off. In one hour my favorite Israeli sandals were no more. I have a second pair, black, single strap, bought three years later, but they have never won my heart the way that pair I bought during my first year on marriage did.
On July 1 Sean & I will celebrate our 20th anniversary. We are planning a trip back to Israel for July 2014. We'll be running a tour for the first 11 days, followed by two weeks of family time. The first moment I have, I'll be buying a new pair of brown, strappy, biblical, Israeli sandals to break in during those weeks in Israel. I hope they'll last me another 20 years.
To find out more about our trip, or to join us, contact me at mercaz-masorti@intrr.net.
I loved that pair of sandals, and so, a new pair was one of the first purchases I made when I returned to Israel. I have worn those wonderful, biblical-style sandals from the first warm day of spring to the last warm day of fall for almost twenty years. They have been my favorite sandals. The wonderful thing about Israeli, biblical sandals is their versatility. They go with jeans. They go with shorts. They go with slacks for work, and dressses for synagogue or a night out. They can be worn for a nice evening or at the beach. They are the most versatile footwear ever.
On Thursday my fav Nimrods met their demise. The soles cracked, and flaked off. In one hour my favorite Israeli sandals were no more. I have a second pair, black, single strap, bought three years later, but they have never won my heart the way that pair I bought during my first year on marriage did.
On July 1 Sean & I will celebrate our 20th anniversary. We are planning a trip back to Israel for July 2014. We'll be running a tour for the first 11 days, followed by two weeks of family time. The first moment I have, I'll be buying a new pair of brown, strappy, biblical, Israeli sandals to break in during those weeks in Israel. I hope they'll last me another 20 years.
To find out more about our trip, or to join us, contact me at mercaz-masorti@intrr.net.
Lessons I Learned Form Harry Potter and Other Storybooks
In my last post I wrote about the power of love and loyalty in overcoming evil, hate, and terror. Even as I was writing the thought struck me that I was writing the theme of Harry Potter. The power of love must triumph over evil. It made me laugh, but didn't stop me from writing it. It's cliche. It seems trite. And yet, it's true. Terrorism seeks to destroy good feelings by breading fear and anger.
Stories, television, movies may be fiction, but they also share important lessons. Mr. Rogers realized this. He sought to use the power of tv media for good, extreme good.
Harry Potter, public broadcasting, Frog & Toad books, and so much more. We can learn so much from positive stories with strong characters.
Love will conquer evil. Harry Potter will win the day.
Stories, television, movies may be fiction, but they also share important lessons. Mr. Rogers realized this. He sought to use the power of tv media for good, extreme good.
Harry Potter, public broadcasting, Frog & Toad books, and so much more. We can learn so much from positive stories with strong characters.
Love will conquer evil. Harry Potter will win the day.
Standing With Boston
I grew up in Merrick, NY, on Long Island. I lived there for 18 years before heading to Boston. It is the home to which I returned when not in school. NYC was a playground for me as teen. We'd drive in or take the train, and head to the Village, the West Side, Central Park, Times Square, all over. In 2001 I was driving back to NY. As I crossed the Verrazano bridge into Brooklyn I switched to the news station for a traffic report. The first plane hit the north tower seconds later. Moments after that the towers come into view. Smoke is pouring from the impact site. The security of my first home had been destroyed. It changed New York and New Yorkers. Famous for their lack of eye-contact in the street as they rush from place to place, suddenly people slowed in the street, they smiled at each other. People looked for connection amidst our shared pain and sorrow. Everyone had a story. Everyone had been touched.
On April 15 two homemade bombs were detonated at the Boston Marathon. I spent four years at Brandeis University, in Waltham outside Boston. I had decided I wanted to go to university in Boston when I was 10. I decided on Brandeis when I was 15. It is a city I love, and a city I consider home. Once again a home of mine had been violated. Waltham was among the cities on lock down to find the suspect. In the weeks that have followed, again we are dominated by the stories. This time its not only the stories of the victims, witnesses, and survivors. We also have the stories of the perpetrators. We want so much more than connections with those like us. We want to understand. We somehow want reassurance that this won't happen again.
Unfortunately that is a goal of terrorism. It doesn't really matter if these brothers were connected to a larger cell or organization. There are and always will be those who are hate-filled, and they will be able to recruit the disaffected. It does not matter if these individuals connect or not. We must be ever vigilant, while they need only to succeed once. But in all cases we must not allow them to win. The win is not the success in bombing. The win is the terror. It is the fear and the suspicion bred through post-tramatic stress that prevents us from going on with our lives. The terrorists won the battle in 2001 when they glued each of us to our television sets with despair, but we came back stronger. We hugged our children and each other, and we changed the channel. We went on. Love, honor, and loyalty make us stronger than those who hate. As long as we stand together, as long as we can hold onto this we will continue to win, and to build a better world.
On April 15 two homemade bombs were detonated at the Boston Marathon. I spent four years at Brandeis University, in Waltham outside Boston. I had decided I wanted to go to university in Boston when I was 10. I decided on Brandeis when I was 15. It is a city I love, and a city I consider home. Once again a home of mine had been violated. Waltham was among the cities on lock down to find the suspect. In the weeks that have followed, again we are dominated by the stories. This time its not only the stories of the victims, witnesses, and survivors. We also have the stories of the perpetrators. We want so much more than connections with those like us. We want to understand. We somehow want reassurance that this won't happen again.
Unfortunately that is a goal of terrorism. It doesn't really matter if these brothers were connected to a larger cell or organization. There are and always will be those who are hate-filled, and they will be able to recruit the disaffected. It does not matter if these individuals connect or not. We must be ever vigilant, while they need only to succeed once. But in all cases we must not allow them to win. The win is not the success in bombing. The win is the terror. It is the fear and the suspicion bred through post-tramatic stress that prevents us from going on with our lives. The terrorists won the battle in 2001 when they glued each of us to our television sets with despair, but we came back stronger. We hugged our children and each other, and we changed the channel. We went on. Love, honor, and loyalty make us stronger than those who hate. As long as we stand together, as long as we can hold onto this we will continue to win, and to build a better world.
Saturday, May 4, 2013
Parashat Behar-B'hukotai- And I Will Walk Among You
V’hithalachti b’toch’chem v’hayiti lachem l’Eilohim v’atem ti’h’yu li l’am.
And I will walk among you and be your God, and you will be My people. (Vayikra 26:12)
From Avraham on, Jews have had a personal and intimate relationship with God. Our matriarchs and patriarchs received direct prophecy, speaking “face to face” with God. But beyond our ancestors and prophets, Midrash teaches us that each of us heard God. We all stood at Sinai, the souls of Jews from previous generations and all Jewish souls to follow. It’s an important midrash in the acceptance of converts. All Jewish souls stood at Sinai, whether born as Jews or choosing Judaism later. Together we heard the lightning; we saw the thunder. Together we stood at Sinai, and God spoke to all of us.
This relationship is not a momentary occurrence. God continues to speak to us. Whether it is direct, as in the case of Moshe or the elders who receive prophecy in the wilderness, through the cloud of visions as our prophets received God’s word, or indirect inspiration as in the Talmud or subsequent centuries, we can all still hear God’s voice. In fact God tells us that the divine presence will be present throughout our lives, “I will walk among you and be your God, and you will be My people.”
It is however, a covenantal relationship. “I will be your God.” “You will be My people.” One cannot exist without the other. This is, in fact, more important than anything else in Judaism. We are interestingly not commanded to believe in God, but we must exist in relationship with God. This could be best explained with Martin Buber’s “I-Thou” discussions. To merely believe would be to see God as something outside and beyond us, creating an “I-It” relationship. We don’t ask others to believe in our existence. It’s unimportant. We know we exist, and we do not need others to confirm this. Instead, we expect to have relationships, to interact, to share with and care about each other. This is the nature of the “I-Thou” relationship. Each of us relates to the other as we would hope they would relate to us. Our relationship with God is personal and intimate. We continue to speak to God personally, but do we expect God to answer?
God does speak to us. We need to learn to listen. God is in the details. The Shechina is God’s presence dwelling among us. It is presence in the quiet moments, in our joy and in our fear. In Behukotai we are told that our enemies will be pursued by the sound of a driven leaf (Vayikra 26:36). If God will follow our enemies with only the sound of a driven leaf, then, if we truly live in relationship with God, we must listen even more closely for the still, small voice of the Shechina. It is not an easy task. Even Elijah struggled with this. Following the murder of all other prophets by Jezebel in I Kings, Elijah complains to God that he is alone. God instructs him to stand on a mountain to be in God’s presence. God sends wind that breaks the rocks, and earthquake and a fire, but God was not in any of these great feats of nature. After all this noise and business, God speaks to Elijah in the “still, small voice.” If Elijah, one of God’s greatest prophets, who merited being taken straight to heaven without dying, had trouble discerning God’s voice, how much the more so do we need to listen with open minds and hearts.
As our seasons move from winter to spring, and we approach matan Torah, the giving of the Torah, let’s all listen closely for God’s voice in the moments we share with each other and with God.
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