In The Shambles Of His Room Cherubs Sang
The last hour has featured a flurry of little big interactions. There was a lengthy phone exchange with a down and out friend (who never has and probably never will look here and that's the real kind of fine) - but that's not part of this post (oops).
I went outside, sat on a bench near the Beis Medrash. I made contact after a few days of phone tag to say, "Maybe." I left a yes message for Shabbos hosts that wanted to hear either way by today.
I sat on the metal bench half lotus and breathed and breathed. A stranger without a kipah walked by, smiled and then asked in shock, "Where are your legs?" "They're right here," I said in zen-like calm." "Oh, yes they are," he said. He walked on his way turned back, still shook up, apologizing. "It's O.K." I said. I so like it, when really, it is O.K. Then I took a thankful walk across Amsterdam.
In the Beis Medrash I picked my favorite siddur off the shelf, the big blue Kol Yaakov. I sat and davened while aimlessly shuffling pages back and forth for the words that I don't so much read as recite from memory. I saw a hand and then a confident smile and before I knew it, it was over. The fellow on my left grabbed my siddur and placed his red, all Hebrew Artscroll in its place. I looked at him with shock, not permitted to speak. I missed my favorite siddur, felt misunderstood, prayed on. Soon after I wrote a haiku dedicated to all of us who misunderstand.
What you see is not
what you get. It is also
what you do not get.
l
I was greeted at home by an email from a English department colleague saying that he/she hopes we're enjoying margaritas by the pool. Enclosed were some teaching ideas to accompany the margaritas and the pool. I replied in tanka.
l
Oh what an image
"Margaritas by the pool"
Wonder what that's like
Is it like words in silence?
Is it like blogging alone?
"Margaritas by the pool"
Wonder what that's like
Is it like words in silence?
Is it like blogging alone?
,
My phone rang and we confirmed plans for tomorrow night. My mindspring account alerted me to a comment by a fan of Quinn, and to an email asking for my address. The address request was so that a publisher can send me a copy of a soon to be released anthology in which my work appears (yay!). That note asked if I'll be going to the open house book release. It's in Israel. The wives of male authors are invited for tea. The men are welcome to drop off their wives, pick up their book and be on their way. I won't be making it.
;
I logged in to my online poetry class and found two lovely and helpful comments on the poem I submitted. I am feeling a bit stuck in only liking a certain short style of poem. I don't get longer poems.
;
This week we're looking at Adrian Blevins. Oh Zelda wherefore art thou?
;
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.
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.
posted by rabbi neil fleischmann @ 10:44 PM
2 Comments:
I'm catching up on past posts. I like this one very much.
Did I misunderstand or did someone actually take a siddur that you were using and replace it with another?
Everyone's got their personality and perceptions. I think this fellow thought I was an outsider who couldn't find the place in the siddur and that I'd be thrilled to have a siddur open to the right spot by any means possible and as as soon as possible.
(I look like a rabbi, am a rabbi, have been crossing paths with this young man for years, and am highly sensitive to having things taken from or given to me without my expecting/wanting that to happen. But he wasn't aware of any of that-only of the red herring that I was flipping pages back and forth.
To give an example from your field, I think we all have our computer chips and the way we're programmed we only get what we get. Like a computer, no matter how many times you hope for other wise, maddening as it an be - it an nly get so much.
There are ways to reprogram, but that is not a route everyone wants to go and it can be a laborious route. Still - based on Alan Morinis - I think that we all have a curriculum in life. It's often not what we think it is. So we drop the class. But life is different, it's the course that follows you. So we keep falling into the same bowl of soup over and over again - until we get it.
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