Hod She'be'Chessed - Beauty Within Kindness

Was just exchanging jokes with the new executive director of Camp IF. She really liked this one which re-entered my consciousness after years: Two Jews in front of a firing squad. One says to the other, "I'm going to ask for a glass of water." The other replies, "Moish, don't make trouble."

I suppose the kindest thing to do when someone tells a joke that you know already is to pretend you haven't heard it before. I used to do that, but then when people heard me tell it later they'd say, "You heard that from me." And I was only trying to be nice.

The other day I listened to a long version of the one about, "This one I wouldn't daven in if you paid me." I was trying to be nice. But today when someone started to tell me that desert island joke one more time, I just couldn't do it.

People love to tell jokes to comedians. I wonder if people go up to heart surgeons and tell them bypass techniques.

I am grateful to Laura Wetzler, tonight's entertainer, who gave me a complimentary copy of her CD Kabalah music: Songs of the Jewish Mystics, which she researched and prepared for seven years. It comes with an in depth booklet, which opens with the quote (from Amnon Shiloah), "The mystic hears singing everywhere." I am sorry that due to technical reasons I could not attend her performance.

Speaking of Kaballah, I just picked up the sefer Sefiros , which goes through the middah of each day of the Omer. It's really helping me pay some attention to the middah of chessed, so far. It comes with suggested assignments and helpful pointers.

It seems like just yesterday that my grandfather taught me about the sefirot. He was surprised that I was nineteen and had never noticed the words that appear after the counting of each day of the Omer. "You know so much, but you don't know this.!" Recently I met someone who doesn't know an alef from a bet, but can tell you about the sefirot from today till the cows come home.

Speaking of grandfathers, here's a poem about Zelda's grandfather. I once saw a poem by Zelda in a JOFA newsletter on a dear friend's coffee table. I was struck by it, but soon forgot. Today in the retreat center's gift shop I saw a book of Zelda's work. It's a wow.

WITH MY GRANDFATHER

by Zelda

Like our father Abraham

who counted stars at night,

who called out to his Creator

from the furnace,

who bound his son

on the altar –

so was my grandfather.

The same perfect faith

in the midst of the flames,

the same dewy gaze

and soft-curling beard.

Outside, it snowed;

outside, they roared:

“There is no justice,

no judge.”

And in the shambles of his room,

cherubs sang

of the Heavenly Jerusalem.

~

And, fresh from my diary -

o

While Dozing on the Train to Wasaic

~

Altered states

can frighten me:

sleep, dreams, love,

The After Life

;

There's also

a sweetness,

a kindness of

a kindest kind

;

When I wake up,

almost fall asleep;

that something else

I feel I like