Then It Found Me

If I'm not in company, I have the habit of watching movies in spurts. I tend to watch on the computer in between other things, rather than taking it in in one sitting as the director would have preferred.

Over the last several nights I watched Then She Found Me. I was unprepared and blown away. Here's the NY Times review. It has an unusually high amount of genuine Jewish content for a mainstream movie. And that, along with most everything about this movie is both rare and well done. It is based on a novel and of course now I want to read the book.

I love reading the book after seeing the movie, rather than doing it the other way around. The book serves as a peirush on the film, broadening it by telling you who the characters are and what they thought and felt in a way that is beyond the scope of a film. As the first comment here I am attaching a lovely, thoughtful note by Elinor Lipman about the question of movie versus book from her point of view (she is the author of the book this film is based on).

VeTechezenah Eineinu - Yom HaAtzmaut 5769

The most moving speech I ever heard on a Yom HaZikaron was delivered by Rabbi Yamin Goldsmith. It was several years ago when Rabbi Goldsmith said that if you talk about a number in the thousands the concept and subsequently the message get lost. If you talk about an individual life that story of just one life can be taken in. Then it can it can be understood that there are many such stories, many such lives.
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He proceeded to speak about one soldier that he got to know during his time in Tzahal. He got to know this fellow, along with his entire group, starting from the first day of basic training. This young man was a gentle Teimani. Rabbi Goldsmith spoke about how he spoke and looked, how he got an allergic rash from wearing his uniform. He created a vivid picture of a human being. Then he spoke about the tragic loss of this young life, about visiting the family, and about how it felt for him and the other guys in the unit who lost a dear friend. Those of us who heard these words took them in and began to understand the magnitude of such loss multiplied by thousands. o

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Yesterday was Yom HaZikaron, today is Yom HaAtzmaut. We know of the loss of life on a national scale and we know of the birth and sustenance of a country. We know individual stories of loss and of life. o t

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I recall being in sixth grade when my cousin's new husband fought in the Yom Kippur War. I remember the picture she sent us of him davening next to a tank. I remember watching their life together grow, as they were blessed with three children. I remember my cousin Hanni saying over years with a mixture of pride and frustration that Dovid held the record for miluim - reserve service. Thank G-d Dovid is now a grandfather, done with milu'im. Today Hanni has 2 sons in elite divisions of the army. May Hashem protect them and the many more like them with safety, health and the merit to soon see complete redemption.i00

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The following always comes to my mind on Yom HaAtzmaut. A train conductor tells a passenger to move the suitcase that's blocking the isle. He tells him repeatedly, but the guy ignores the conductor. Exasperated the conductor says, "If you don't move your suitcase, I'm going to throw it off the train." The guy doesn't move it, so the conductor throws it out the moving train's window. He asks the passenger, "Are you happy now?" The man replies, "I don't care. It's not my suitcase." lyy

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If we feel that Israel is ours, then we will love her, worry about her, celebrate her. We need to work to recognize and remember that we are intrinsically connected to this holy land. May we be so blessed.Many years ago at a Pidyon HaBen for Dovis (Goobs) Berger's son Rabbi Moshe Chait spoke about hakarat hatov. He showed that true thankfulness is not a matter of owing another person for the good he did for you. He spoke about how people have favorite chairs toward which they have appreciative sentiments. His point was that true appreciation flows as a a natural feeling. This is what we are meant to feel for the land of Israel.

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Rav Chait asked why when we bring Bikurim - First Fruits of Israel - we recite the line, "Arami Oveid Avi," which describes how Yaakov was almost snuffed out by Lavan. Rabbi Chait explained that if you really appreciate something you appreciate it back to its roots. So in appreciating the land of Israel we go back to the very beginning of our miraculous salvations from G-d. Similarly, if someone appreciates that his parents brought him into this world he wants to know every detail, starting with how they met.
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Hakarat hatov is translated to mean thankfulness, while the words actually mean seeing/recognizing the good. If you truly see goodness that was done for you, you don't need to be told, "Say thank you," it comes about naturally.

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May we be blessed to appreciate what the land and state of Israel means. May we truly see the good done for us by G-d and man. May we all be blessed today to take a moment to think about how Israel has affected our lives. I know that in so many ways I would not be who I am today if not for Israel. (That's another post...)

Birchat HaChamah Is Every Day

I love the spring feeling of here comes the sunlight. Based on what I hear and see this affinity for daylight seems ubiquitously human to me. Zelda Schneersohn Mishkovsky liked the light. She was not being consciously coy when she responded to Marcia Falk's question about her "golden fish." Zelda genuinely wondered, "Why do people always seek what is complicated? I always intend the simple. By "golden fish" I meant a golden fish." (The Spectacular Difference pg.7)

Zelda writes about light in such a gorgeously poetic manner ("Does the pleasure of a red sunset come from the mortal element in me?" - The Invisible Carmel, The Spectacular Difference pg. 81). And yet, I think she's talking about light.

Zelda married at 36, when her father had already passed on. She cared for her old mother and her ill husband until they both died, her mother after 15 years and Chaim 6 years later. When she was widowed she left Geulah for a place that bordered Sharei Chesed and Rechavia. Her new apartment let in a great deal more light than her previous dwellings. This light brought healing and inspired mystical images of seeing light, by which Zelda meant to say she saw light.

Earlier this year, just as the days were turning darker, I met someone socially. I mentioned that I like it better when the days are longer and lighter and that I think that's normal. The person I was with, who is a certified therapist, felt differently. She believed that if you have a negative reaction to the lack of light during the winter then you have Seasonal Affective Disorder. Conversation over.

I've enjoyed the abundant presence and warmth of the sun these past few days. I came away from work today feeling happy. Spring is in the air, and despite the economy and other realities of life there is light and warmth in my life. Like Zelda I need to open my eyes, poise my pen and capture strange plants, enchanted birds, black roses, and orange butterflies.

Lakhn Mit Yashcherkes

Over Pesach my dear old friend Sol taught me an expression, which he used several times. The phrase is "Lakhn mit yashcherkes," which means, idiomatically, laughing with tears. I speak regularly over Pesach and often use anecdotes and example in public speeches, discussions, games, workshops and also in private conversations. During my talk on humor, Sol introduced the phrase in regard to many (of my) Jewish jokes.

Privately I told Sol about a recent New Yorker cartoon in which you one of those long slave row boats that I think were used for some form of torture. The boat is mostly empty except for two guys, a few spaces apart, on opposite sides of the boat, each one working hard with their oar to keep the entire ship afloat. One turns to the other and says, "I'm just happy to have a job." That brought the saying to his mind once more.

I found this interesting piece (which I'll post as the first comment to economize space.

A Cultural Aside

I like to root for the underdog. Sometimes when the outsider becomes cool, it's hard for me to stick with it. This is why Jennifer Bleyer left Heeb when it became popular. This is why I liked 30 Rock over The Office, because it has an outsider quirkiness (still does have an underdog feel, even though it's become popular). And this is why I really appreciated Sunshine Cleaning.

As Claudia Puig put it, "Light but not insubstantial, charming without being glib, Sunshine Cleaning is a heartfelt and funny story of complicated family dynamics and life's bizarre twists." It fits well beside Ordinary People, What's Eating Gilbert Grape, Dolores Claiborne, Marvin's Room, You Can Count On Me, , and Rachel Getting Married (I think I did that in correct chronological order) as a good film as well as a good lesson in family systems theory (feel free to add to the list).

Shavua Tov - Od HaPa'am

It's nine o'clock on a Saturday and Shabbos just shuffled out. Over Shabbos I read some Zelda and gave another look at Amichai.

Yonah the prophet, whose way to G-d

filled with flight

through raging waters

will ask mercy for you

and for me

and for all who are drowning.

- Zelda

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(from For The Light Is My Delight,

The Spectacular Difference, pg. 103)

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I hold in my hand your hand

in which there is a handkerchief, in which there are tears

in which there is salt; the salt of all salts

(melech malchei hamelachim)

- Yehuda Amichai

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(From With Sad Slyness,

Poems of Jerusalem and Love Poems, pg. 225)

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Something About Seinfeld

This is a cool story from The Times about Seinfeld's heritage. I'm posting it as the first comment so it will be here even after you have to pay to get it from The Times.

Warning: Open Vent

On my home from work I stopped in Shop Rite. The cashier wanted the time of day, I think. She didn't ask what time it was, but I sensed she wanted a little conversation. As one of the secretaries in school told me earlier today, people long to be recognized. The cashier asked me if I have a savings card. I don't. Then she commented about how colorful it is, and I thought she was talking about the discount thingie and that seemed odd to me. I had music playing softly through my Ipod earphones, so I was a little tuned out (if such a modified amount of tuned out exists). (Someone told me recently that he stopped listening to shiurim on his Ipod in public because he felt it kept people at a distance from him. Sometimes, right or wrong, that's what I want.)

Earlier, While I was perusing the aisles a man asked me if I was the mashgiach of the kosher section.
I said, "No."
He said, "You're just a frum guy wearing a white shirt."
Me: "Right."
On the other side of the chicken we bumped into each other again,
"You daven in Rabbi Yudin's Shul." he said.
Me: "No."
"Teaneck."
"No."
You don't understand what I'm saying."
"I live in Manhattan."
"Oh."

The girl working the register commented about colors. I looked at what she was placing in the bag and realized she was talking about the Rainbow Roll. I told her the name and she liked that. Then she paused to gaze upon my Space Saving Shoe Organizer that has As Seen On TV stickers on it (I hadn't seen it). The check out girl looked at Shoes Under (Slides Under Bed! Holds 12 Pairs! Great For Closets Too!) as though it were a rare jewel.
"I'd seen it on TV, but I didn't know it was available in stores already!"
It was a pleasant exchange.

I took the twenty minute bus ride home, which due to traffic took an hour and a half. I'm tired. But I'll always have Shop Rite. And soon, Shabbos.

It's Hard When You're The Donkey

A farmer's donkey fell into a well and cried for hours as the farmer struggled with what to do. The man decided his animal was old, the well needed to be covered and it wasn't worth retrieving the donkey. He invited neighbors to assist, and they each shoveled dirt into the well.

At first, the donkey shrieked at the realization that they were trying to kill him, but soon he quieted down. After a few shovel loads the farmer looked down the well and was surprised by what he saw. As the neighbors shoveled dirt on top of the donkey's back, it shook the load off and took a step up onto the freshly piled dirt. Everyone was amazed when the donkey stepped over the edge of the well and trotted away.

Life shovels all kinds of dirt upon us. The key to dealing with difficulties is to see each of our troubles as a stepping stone. We can climb out of the deepest of wells by never giving up, shaking off the dirt, and taking a step up. Thomas Aquinas said that wisdom is a view from the hilltop. We can choose to be wise and enjoy the view by stepping up rather than than being buried as the mountain is formed one shovel full at a time. With each successive load that we shake off our task becomes easier and our goal more attainable.

(I heard this story years ago and in writing it up referenced and adapted these two online versions (1,2)

2 Tazria Thoughts

1. The first Rashi of Tazria cites a Chazal which addresses the connection between the end of Shmini and the start of Tazria. The idea is that just like in creation animals preceded people, so too in regard to their laws of purity and impurity animals come first, followed by people.

To see this further developed via Rav Zevin click here.

2. The medrash says that milah is on the eighth day in order to allow the baby to become strong (kedai sheyechazku kochotav). Common wisdom has it that milah is on the eighth day so that at least one Shabbat will have passed in every situation of milah. The Tosefet Bracha ties these 2 explanations together.

To see this idea rurther developed via the Tosefet Bracha click here.

Chesed She'be'Tiferet: Curb Your Gevurah

Tonight we begin the week of Tiferet, which means beauty, and is the synthesized balance of chesed and gevurah. Stereotypically, chesed is a more feminine and gevurah a more masculine characteristic. This approach taps into Kabbalah, which is why major Jewish English language publishers have shied away from it.

The book Sefiros, by Rabbis Haber and Sedley, cites a piece of a speech by Elizabeth Cady Stanton in its introduction to the week of Tiferet. In their text they attribute the quote to "a poet" and in the footnote they provide just her name. The words they cite are from a speech (entitled The Destructive Male) that Stanton delivered in 1868 at the Women's Suffrage Convention in Washington, D.C. What follows is the entire final paragraph of that speech with the words cited in Sefiros in bold print.

"With violence and disturbance in the natural world, we see a constant effort to maintain an equilibrium of forces. Nature, like a loving mother, is ever trying to keep land and sea, mountain and valley, each in its place, to hush the angry winds and waves, balance the extremes of heat and cold, of rain and drought, that peace, harmony, and beauty may reign supreme. There is a striking analogy between matter and mind, and the present disorganization of society warns us that in the dethronement of woman we have let loose the elements of violence and ruin that she only has the power to curb. If the civilization of the age calls for an extension of the suffrage, surely a government of the most virtuous educated men and women would better represent the whole and protect the interests of all than could the representation of either sex alone."

Metzora

Rashi tells us that when the Jews had Tzora'at on the walls of their home they had to tear down the walls. Inside the walls were hidden gold treasures. What's the meaning of this? Perhaps the idea is that to get to the gold in life you may have to break through messy walls.

GNAGB - 4/22/09

So much to write, this is my life.

Disunity brings

Much vulnerability

Grave consequences

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One should always ask,

"Punishment or consequence?"

Be on guard and know

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I am fond of minimalistic writing/living - a least in theory. I am a big fan of the poetry of Samuel Menashe, whom I write about and cite poetry of here and here (you can also google him, or search within the blog for a couple of other places where I cite his work).

A Rabbi Named Blu?

Here's an interesting new piece by Jonathan Mark called A Rabbi Named Sue. The comments are interesting too. See if you can find the crucial typo in one of the comments.

One of the guests at the Pesach retreat I ran is a non observant artist (which reminds me that I facilitated a Q and A at the end of Pesach and the topic turned largely to labels and definitions and what really matters in essence). She told me that she saw a PBS special that had a part about women becoming Orthodox rabbis. She then saw the woman in question live and was all excited, but was upset that she was not given the title of rabbi. As she was telling me the story another woman who goes to the Shul in question said she was at the ceremony where the young woman was given her title. She tried to explain things to the artist.

Earth Day 2009

I like today's graphic at google for Earth Day.

Stuck With The Philosophy Majors (Click For Link)

By putting in my URL incorrectly instead of going to my blog I searched it and ended up at this site, where Mary Oliver and I are cited in a less than clear manner. Avrohom Yitzchok posted a quote of Mary Oliver, ("The cliche' works in poems as it works in any kind of writing - badly. Do not use the cliche' in a poem unless, perhaps, you are writing a poem about the cliche'") that I wrote out in poetic form (here), two years ago at Passover time. This fellow credited my blog as the source, but did not include Mary's name.

I also found that I am in the bibliography of the Motley's Crew article on Wikipedia.

The blogosphere is a funny place (not ha ha). As a friend of mine put it, "Once it's out there, it's out there." But that's true about any venue. My heart goes out to a friend who had pieces of her published books plagiarised and published as original work by a well known author (who seems to have done the same thing to others).

One teacher shared something about a student at lunch today. Another teacher said something about not judging. We all do judge, sometimes it feels like all we do is judge. Chazal were for judging. They never say, "Don't judge." They do say, "Judge favorably," Judge patiently," "Judge in an empathetical way," "Judge with the help of others." Seems to come up every day.

Another everyday issue is thankfulness. Somewhere I posted a poem with the line, "I thank you G-d for thank you." It may be in a comment. Somewhere in this space I talked about my noticing a line in Modim in which we thank G-d for a list of things, ending with the gift of being able to say thank you.

This is the poem in Hebrew with, with the English alongside, by Zelda that I saw some time ago in a JOFA journal on the coffee table in the home of a friend and then lost track of. When I saw it tonight (cited in full within a customer comment about the book on Amazon), I remembered really liking it when I first saw it. It was so simple, while also being profound and I wasn't sure others would like it. I felt happily validated when my friend liked it too.

I was struck by this article about love that I read today while walking home from the bus terminal. I was also intrigued by the author's website and the video there that are mentioned at the end of the article. And then I bought two plants.

I give a lot of tests, I must say. And they are always longhand. Not sure why I do that. I think it's mostly that I feel it's the right way to go. I'm giving a test tomorrow on Korach and Chukat, on peace and arguments, and life and death, and getting that everything is from G-d. I do think that I really believe that these ideas are important.

Every junior in my school has to ask 6 teachers to write a recommendation for him or her. Then the college guidance office writes a recommendation combining those six along with whatever other information they can get on the student. I was asked to do about 40, and still counting. I asked one of the college guidance counselors if they tell kids to ask me and the answer was yes. I think, mostly, I agree to write these because I feel it's the right way to go. A student asked me today and was thrilled when I said yes because I was his third one and he knew he wouldn't get any one else to write one. The fact is that there is not a kid that I know in the school that I do not see goodness in and about whom I couldn't write positive things.

tests to write tests taken mistakes made apology exchange fear i'm afraid music played ambivalence mainstay blog created fog hope will clear wish all my dears good night G-d bless just commentary all the rest.

A Gentle Wow Poem

EACH OF US HAS A NAME
By Zelda
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Each of us has a name
given by God
and given by our parents

Each of us has a name
given by our stature and our smile
and given by what we wear

Each of us has a name
given by the mountains
and given by our walls

Each of us has a name
given by the stars
and given by our neighbors

Each of us has a name
given by our sins
and given by our longing

Each of us has a name
given by our enemies
and given by our love

Each of us has a name
given by our celebrations
and given by our work

Each of us has a name
given by the seasons
and given by our blindness

Each of us has a name
given by the sea
and given by
our death.

Yom HaShoa 5769

My Way
By Blu Greenberg
(From Black Bread: Poems, After the Holocaust- Ktav, 1995)

I am the princess on the pea
That's the way I'm going to be
Creature comforts all for me
Like my chaise lounge by the sea

"Ooh, it's raining, hail a cab"
"Stop! I must cotton this toenail scab"
"Radio's loud, shut off that blab"
"Candlelight dinner, you pay the tab"

"Please don't interrupt, I've a deadline to meet"
"Order by phone, I can't stand on my feet"
"Air - condition this hot, hot suite"
"Ah, it's time for my persimmon treat"

"Off I go to visit my mother"
"This shop is not stocked, let's go find another"
"I'm busy now, kids, go ask your father"
"If the trip is too long I simply won't bother"

"This elastic waist's a bit too tight"
"Open the shades, I need more light"
"Fax it to me, I want it tonight"
"Let's pay the fine and avoid a fight"

"I'm feeling tired, I'll take a nap"
"Come sweet child, sit on my lap"
"I'll have spring water, it's better than tap"
It's chilly in here, please fetch my wrap"

"Get the best seats at the new play"
"Porter, come carry this suitcase away"
"I wish to have it done my way"
I'd not have survived a single day.

While You Were Exiting Egypt

If you haven't seen it yet, watch this video. The article is interesting too. One line, in particular, struck me.

Kilroy Was Here (Click For Link)

Rav Yosef Shaul Natanson, cited by the rabbi in shul, just yesterday morning , addressed Aharon's silence. Nadav and Avihu offer a "strange fire," their lives are taken by G-d, and their father is silent. At first Aharon cried and was reprimanded by G-d for this response. Then he went silent (-Ramban). Why then were the Jewish People permitted to cry? Rav Natanson notes that Aharon experienced a personal tragedy,while the people were feeling for an other who experienced loss. When one - rachmana litzlan - goes through a difficult time, the appropriate reaction is to take it as from G-d and deal with it along those lines. When someone else goes through a hard time, the appropriate reaction is to empathize with them as best as possible.
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Rabbi Zev Reichman applied to this the teaching of the Slonimer Rebbe, that every characteristic - midah - can be used for good. The Rebbe was once challenged with the question, "How can heresy be used for good?" The Rebbe explained that when someone goes through a hard time others shouldn't put it all on G-d, but should react as if there were no G-d, as if it was up to them to feel for and assist the other person.
jn
This reminded me of what Rabbi Yitzchak Kirschner (zt"l) said that we should tell ourselves that our suffering is from G-d, and try to figure out and deal with the details. But we should not say that to others. It also brought to mind the saying of Rav Yisrael Salanter that we should worry about our own ruchniyut - spirituality, and the gashmiyut - material needs of others (although we are inclined to do the opposite of this).
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This reminds me of a phrase I think I recently coined, the opposite of empathy. I thought of these words as I experienced what felt like that. A friend suggested calling it drainpathy, but I like the long hand, opposite of empathy.
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The following tanka was birthed today organically. Poet and poem are both doing fine. But they ask for a few days to sleep, heal, and get to know one another.
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writing means i'm here
will one day show i was here
longhand graffiti
much like the book known as life
written one word at a time
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I am blown away by good writing. I am reminded of an interview that my mother (SSLABW) told me she saw years ago with J.J. Walker. He was asked who was the funniest person he knew and he named a kid he went to school with. This comes to mind because some of the best writers I know are not famous...
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On the other hand, some famous writers are really good. Here's a little sample of Paul Auster, from Timbuktu. A friend of mine was recently dissing this book, saying he couldn't read a book that he's supposed to believe is written by a dog. Auster's brilliance, as I see it, is that he doesn't go the kitchy route of having the dog narrate. He presents things ostensibly from the P.O.V. of the dog, in a profoundly believable way, while really presenting an in depth human portrait of the dog's owner.
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"Mr. Bones knew that Willy wasn't long for this world... What was a poor dog to do? Mr. Bones had been with Willy since his earliest days as a pup, and by now it was next to impossible for him to imagine a world that did not have his master in it. Every thought, every memory, every particle of the earth and air was saturated with Willy's presence. Habits die hard, and no doubt there's some truth to the adage about old dogs and new tricks, but it was more than just love or devotion that caused Mr. Bones to dread what was coming. It was pure ontological terror. Subtract Willy from the world, and the odds were that the world itself would seize to exist.
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Such was the quandary that Mr. Bones suffered that August morning as he shuffled through the streets of Baltimore with his ailing master. A dog alone was no better than a dead dog, and once Willy breathed his last, he'd have nothing to look forward to but his own imminent demise. Willy had been cautioning him about this for many days now and Mr. Bones knew the drill by heart: how to avoid the dogcatchers and constables, the paddy wagons and unmarked cars, the hypocrites from the so-called humane societies..."

Blogging On The Radio

I just heard a masterfully done segment of This American Life. Ira Glass wove together two sides of the same story leading up to a happy ending. The woman speaks about how she liked this guy whom she worked with. His name was Joel. She had a pair of jeans that she thought really allowed her to put her best foot forward. She would set things up so that those pants were fresh and ready on the days and nights when she knew she'd see him. She wonders if they ever would have fallen in love, married, had children if not for those jeans. After they were dating for a while, he was in her apartment as she sorted through old clothes. When he questioned whether she should keep those pants, she couldn't believe it. And when he saw her face subtly, but dramatically drop, he couldn't believe it. He didn't like those pants, but he believes he would have fallen for her no matter what she wore. And he says that when he first falls for someone he idealizes them. And then he wonders, "Why would someone perfect go for imperfect me?" (He thinks this is pretty universal, and that sounds right to me.) He says that the fact that she liked those pants that he thought were out of style gave him hope that she could like awkward him.

(Uri - Does this exist anywhere on line?)

Every Story Tells A Picture

I didn't take any pictures till Isru Chag. The pictures I took - due to the hectic reality - were of the camp grounds or of me. As I was embarking on my departure, in my travel clothes, I asked my driver to take a picture of me and the person who coordinated the Pesach program. Olga put in three hundred percent, with tremendous sensitivity and kindness. I am grateful for her efforts which raised the quality of my efforts.

Shavua Tov

It's hard to remember that yesterday I stood under this sky,

before this lake and these mountains and snapped this picture

Shabbos has come and gone. Pesach still lingers. I am tired. It was nice to be in a bucolic setting. Sometimes I use a word, then wonder where that came from. It is time to go to sleep.

I've been trying to read Zelda straight and non stop. This affected the dream I had this afternoon about someone saying that you can only understand the theme of what you write after it is written. Zelda makes me want to give everything else up and devote myself to writing poetry. I suppose I can commit to poetry without adhering to that dependent clause.

A friend lent me a Batya Gur book after Shabbos. It's a mystery and came highly recommended. If it's anything like the quality work of Rochelle Krich I'll be happy. We had an interesting talk at lunch about consumerism and how America depends on it, but it's not a good way to live. Everyone I know is affected by this plague. As people start to detox from buying everything that shines in their eyes the effect will be bad for the economy. It's broadcast as bad news when spending is down. These revelations feel kind of dark.

We're in the middle of the week of gevurah qualifying chesed. It's not about gevurah. This is made clear by the first day of gevurah's week being about gevurah qualifying chesed. Yaakov Haber in his book Sefirot cites the saying that when we need to draw boundaries with others we should push away with the left hand and pull in with the right (Sotah 47b) (interesting to note that some study Sotah now, as it has 49 pages). He cites this (page 40) on the day of chesed within gevurah, adding, "Sometimes strength should be displayed weakly."

What would Zelda say?

I Am A Dead Bird

By Zelda

~

I am a dead bird

One bird that has died.

A bird cloaked in a gray coat

As I walk, a scoffer dismisses me.

~

Suddenly Your silence envelopes me -

Ever-living One.

In a teeming market a dead fowl will sing -

Only You exist.

In a teeming market, a bird hobbles with song

hidden.

A Glimpse of My Week

Wow, What A Great New Stadium

Two parsha posts on Shmini (1,2). Just one more thing; why is the opening day of the Miskan called the eighth day and not the first day? Rav Yaakov Kaminetzky explained that the Torah here is teaching the importance of preparation. Seven days preceded the first day, making it the eighth day rather than the first. Often what looks like the start comes along late in the process.

Shabbat Shalom
RNF

The More Things Change

Things, changing,

while staying the same,

wave to you from

the certain shore.

Ambiguities abound,

but change will occur,

of this you can be sure.

;

Of this I think as I sit and write about this trip, coming and going in the blink of an eye. But there is also the wink element, which makes me joy-filled, even as I sigh.

;

This is what inspired the thoughts above; ~*~.

I'm in the Camp IF office, decompressing with Olga and Vlastic. I've just completed a decade of Passovers in the same retreat center. That's 80 days of work, not counting the prep/meetings, etc. I gave about 15 lectures/discussions, ran trivia competition and two improv/acting workshops, 24 minyanim, 2 sedarim, etc. It's the etc. that gets to me. Sigh.

An hour, or way more has passed. We processed quite a bit, I think we needed to. Olga and Vlastic are among my people here at camp. Olga and I just discussed Woody Allen movies and the similarity between The Cherry Orchard by Chekhov and September.

Then there's Rose, whose father passed away (rachmana litzlan) a few years ago at this time. We spoke for quite a while that year. I tried to be a good pair of ears with a heart in between. Since then she greets me with a gift and a card every year when I come up. Past cards have been heavy and beautiful. This years card was light reading, but hit the spot: A Passover poem for you: As you're pouring the wine and you're sharing the matzah, may your worries be few and your blessings be lotsa! G-d bless Rose.

May G-d bless all the good people that I worked with and for over these past ten days. It's been an effort and also a pleasure. Soon it's back to another world, a world in which I am not (as Olga described the way the seniors here view me) a rock star.

Good night Mrs. Calabash, wherever you are. And G-d Bless.

Gutten Erev Shabbos

I am blown away by this. I hope/pray to apply it to my life in a practical way. I am prompted to ask (again) how can anyone write this well? Click here to see the Hebrew. I beg to differ with one piece of translation. Check out the Hebrew for "in a heart of raving flesh" and tell me what you think.

LIGHT A CANDLE
By Zelda
-tt
Light a candle,
drink wine.
Softly the Sabbath has plucked
the sinking sun.
Slowly the Sabbath descends,
the rose of heaven in her hand.
o
How can the Sabbath
plant a huge and shining flower
in a blind and narrow heart?
How can the Sabbath
plant the bud of angels
in a heart of raving flesh?
Can the rose of immortality grow
in a generation enslaved
to destruction,
a generation enslaved
to death?
i
Light a candle!
Drink wine!
Slowly the Sabbath descends
and in her hand the flower,
and in her hand
the sinking sun.

On In A Tub

How does a person write this well?

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

While Waiting For Dad (HSLABW)

Never been
here before
I walk through
this moment's door

This moment
was gifted
for a reason:
to live in it

This I believe;
Now's a time
to hold still
and so I breathe.

Good Moed And G-d Bless

I wanted to be rather than blog. And while one could argue that blogging is part of being, what I mean to say is that I wanted tonight to pass blog free. I was walking out of the Camp IF office, after checking emails and and and - when I saw a quote hanging on the outside wall of this building. The posted words propelled me back here, compelled to share.
i

We do not quit playing because we grow old,

we grow old because we quit playing

u

- Oliver Wendell Holmes

Zman Cheiruteinu

Wishing all a Chag Kosher VeSameach. May this Passover bring hope and redemption for us all. (Check out my little hagadah here, and Pesach thoughts from this year here and here.)

Here's a thought; Pesach is a communal holiday and sometimes the individual can get lost. Maybe that's why the rabbis stress that every individual must see himself as if he went out from Egypt. During national gatherings it's important to remember the significance of individuals. G-d didn't only take the Jewish people out of Egypt. He took out you and me out of bondage. And He continues to free each one of us.

Sometimes a word is used only with certain connotations. Narcissistic is one of those words. So I thought I'd share this, which I got from Wikipedia: Sigmund Freud believed that some narcissism is an essential part of all of us from birth and was the first to use the term in the reference to psychology (Freud, Sigmund, On Narcissism: An Introduction, 1914). Andrew Morrison claims that, in adults, a reasonable amount of healthy narcissism allows the individual's perception of his needs to be balanced in relation to others (Morrison, Andrew. Shame: The Underside of Narcissism, The Analytic Press, 1997.)

CKVAGB

Time Keeps On Slippin'

I am allowing myself a few minutes of free writing, just between me and the www. Things are feeling good here at Camp Isabella Freedman, poo poo poo. It's a funny feeling (not ha ha) returning to a place that you know so well but have been away from for a long time - like reconnecting with a close friend. The reconnection happens fast because it was there all along.

My driver on the way up was a pleasure to talk with. He was articulate and spiritual and wise. Myron told me that in The Things That Matter Most, Cal Thomas writes that the mistake of the youth of the sixties was that they discarded American ancient landmarks. That resonated for me. Those who wish to make Judaism feel alive must be careful to appropriately respect ancient landmarks.

My friend Pesach sent out an email with an angle that worked for me about Birchat HaChama (the blessing recited once every 28 years when the sun is in the spot it was in when it was created). Something that happens once every 28 years can serve as a life marker. It is a chance to look back on the miracles that took us from where we were 28 years ago to where we are today. Birchat HaChama can shine light on our movement and the unique spot are at in our lives. It is a unique opportunity to be grateful.

I remember well where I was. Do you? I recited the blessing at sunrise with a large group of young men my age. It feels like a few minutes ago, which (I've come to realize) means the next time will feel like a few seconds from now. I pray that the sun revolves to the same place again, 28 years from now, it will spotlight a more evolved me.

"As this day has approached, I have been thinking about time.

After all, the last time this bracha was said

I was in 3rd grade.

The next time, I will be 65 and

the time after that, if G-d grants me long life, 93.

Some of you were not born

the last time this bracha was said.

Others, who are now grandparents,

were young parents trying to figure out parenthood.

Where will I be in 28 years? Who knows?

I will hold off on prognosticating. After all,

“Man plans and G-d laughs”.

So much has happened to me in the last 28 years

that no one could have predicted..."

(

- Rabbi Pesach Sommer

Arts and Culture

Neil Young has a new album called Fork In The Road. Just heard a song from it called Light A Candle - very nice (not sure that's the phrase/praise he was looking for review wise). WFUV also just played a new Jill Sobule song. She did a remarkable thing with this new album, putting out an independent yet professional work (produced by Don Was) by raising $75,000 dollars from fans - with relative ease. (I recently wrote that I was awaiting the album and sorry I missed the chance to help. Here's Jill's reply: "Thanks! You can still go on jillsnextrecord.com or get the record when it comes out. I'm excited. And I love Rabbis. I need to find one and a congregation in my new home, LA Xo, jill). A friend of mine told me on Shabbos that Amy Hempel is a writer's writer. I just got hold of her complete works and am looking forward to reading her short stories. (Here's the transcript of a Hempel interview) I don't know if I stressed enough how much I enjoyed Nancy Peacock's memoir. I feel like I gave more press to Debra Winger, but Nancy probably needs me more and I found her book amazing, just haven't had the ko'ach to copy out passages. In a poem he wrote on December 13, 2008, John Updike, who doesn't much need me, writes about the neighborhood he grew up in and how fond and appreciative he is of those people and that time (Peggy Lutz, Fred Muth):

To think of you brings tears less caustic

than those the thought of death brings. Perhaps

we meet our heaven at the start and not

the end of life. Even then were tears

and fear and struggle, but the town itself

draped in plain glory the passing days.

u

- John Updike

Hagaddah Thoughts 5769 II

Homiletical explanations abound for why kiddush is the first part of the Seder; how we go back in time, set context, recognize that we are holy at the outset, etc. I think the bottom line is that it’s the time of the mitzvah of kiddush.

j

Having served as rabbi in a hotel setting for the past nine years (and gearing up for another wonderful year) I am keenly aware of the fact that we wait till the proper time to say kiddush. People, particularly senior citizens, get restless, hungry, and have legitimate health concerns. And yet. We wait for the nightfall of every holiday and only then induct the holy occasion with kiddush. (There are specific reasons why, perhaps, on Pesach it makes sense to wonder regarding the timing of kiddush. The fact is that we have a full line up of activities, and that these may add up to an interruption-hefseik between kiddush and the hamotzi/meal. Still, the clear psak is that we do start with kiddush and that its billing as the first mitzvah of any Yom Tov overrules any other scheduling concerns).

u

This is similar to a few words in a seemingly unrelated Gemorah that sometimes go unnoticed. As dramatic as the story of Rabi Akiva’s death and how his final words are those of the Shma – the real reason why he said Shma before he was murdered was because it was the time for the mitzvah. The Gemorah states explicitly that as he was taken out to be killed it was the time for the saying of the Shma.

בשעה שהוציאו את רבי עקיבא להריגה זמן קריאת שמע היה, והיו סורקים את בשרו במסרקות של ברזל, והיה מקבל עליו עול מלכות שמים. אמרו לו תלמידיו: רבינו, עד כאן? אמר להם: כל ימי הייתי מצטער על פסוק זה בכל נפשך - אפילו נוטל את נשמתך, אמרתי: מתי יבא לידי ואקיימנו, ועכשיו שבא לידי לא אקיימנו? היה מאריך באחד עד שיצתה נשמתו באחד. יצתה בת קול ואמרה: אשריך רבי עקיבא שיצאה נשמתך באחד

ברכות דף סא עמוד ב

(It's interesting food for though that on the Seder night we tell the story about Rabi Akiva and his interrupting the mitzvah of telling the story of Yetziat Mitrayim when he is informed that it is the time for the mitzvah of Shma. There seems to be something profound about Rabbi Akiva and his saying Shma at its proper time.)

Written During Introductions to Memorial Shiur

How do seven years fly

After a friend so alive has died?

How did I merit to b a true friend;

To be in the the inner circle of

Such a wonderful outsider?

Do I?

It's been three and a half years and yet a post from October '05 keeps coming back to me. I just birthed this poem, under the influence of that piece.
li

For Better For Worse.

l

Don't we all convince ourselves

that we are one thing or another?

And don't we also choose to display

choice self portraits for each other?

Friday, October 28, 2005

Role 'Em
By Rabbi Neil Fleischmann
l
Recently I read an article (Storyteller at Work: 'Mark Twain Tonight!' and as Ever - New York Times, June 10, 2005) about Hal Holbrook's one man show that he's been doing for years. The point was made that he's been playing Mark Twain longer than Sam Clemens played Mark Twain. The idea of the author was that Mark Twain was a persona. Similarly, I read recently (The Thing About My Folks; Agitation and Anxiety Are All in the Family -September 16, 2005) that in his new movie with Peter Falk, Paul Reiser plays Paul Reiser. The writer kind of paused, then added - well, the character that we've always been shown as Paul Reiser.
h
It's a fascinating concept, that we all have personas. In a book about cleaning up clutter (written specifically for right side of the brain people) the author suggests that you say to yourself, "I am an organized person." At first this sounded absurd to me. But don't we all convince ourselves that we are one thing or another? I know I have done this in many ways for better and for worse. And don't we all also choose to put forward certain dispositions in the world?

This Is Only A Test

The other day I gave a test and wrote this. A poet student helped write one couplet. Thanks J.P.

When tests cause strife
They make me ponder life;

Is there a point, I wonder
More than smoke/thunder?

What comes of all this stress
Might it lead to learning less?

Is it the amorphous that counts
Can values be weighed in amounts?

I am not a fan of assessments, tests
What's important is the unseen rest.

Hagaddah Thoughts 5769 Part I

Hagaddah 5769

I am a member of the Kadesh U’Rechatz Fan Club. I love how we start the Seder with that catchy, short song. Usually I head up the minority party that wants to sing it twice. I think it's a fun trivia question to ask - What is the only time in Jewish rituals and prayers that we recite/sing a Table of Contents? I find it cool that it is a literal table of contents of which we sing.

I appreciate the following take on the custom of singing this introductory tune.

“No one that I know sings the table of contents of a book. Rather, there is something about the order, the Seder, of the evening that is intrinsically important. The singsong employed to recite the Seder helps all those around the table to give expression to and remember all the items of the Seder in their correct order. As in any song, the melody pulls together the words into a unified whole with a beginning, a middle, and an end...this is because the Seder is just that – a unified, ordered, whole story with a beginning, middle, and end.”

From - Leading The Passover Journey, Rabbi Nathan Laufer page 16

(For more extensive thoughts check out my little hagaddah, here.)

Ever Since Sinai (click for link)

Sometimes when I wake up I'm still partially in dreamland. I am so close to that city that I remember not only the dreams I just had, but I also am filled with pieces from other visits. This morning, a few minutes out, I remembered a rabbi not prone to giving blessings calling me over from a large group standing around him and placing his hands on my head and saying a heartfelt blessing for something I want in my life. Then there was a Shabbos meal in dreamland in which a single male said that he was at this gathering, with this crowd, not for himself but more-so for his sister who was single and older than him, looking for someone for her. Then there was a return visit to my grandparents' apartment. This time there was a crew of us assessing the place and the problem of mold that had taken over the walls...

School/work day begins to fade, though I will carry it for hours and hours and days and days and then I'll actually be back in the field. I need to start eating farfel on Shabbos to remember to let bygones be ferfalen. And I need to take zman cheiruteinu seriously, on the deepest most real level.

It got really warm on Thursday and I was sitting at about 1:45 (when my father - HSLABW - called to say hello), doing Torah Guidance on the balcony. I had a really nice talk with a student who told me he liked what I said on the Junior trip in December. I told him that I hadn't heard much feedback on it. He wisely explained that teenagers (people in general) don't usually give unsolicited feedback to educational programs. They just move on, as it should be (as Mary Poppins tells her talking bird, who is sad that the family she helped will move on and not think much about her)

I have been up since 7ish, having slept from 2ish till then. I forced myself to go to the library right after selling chameitz post davening. And I've been here ever since. Now it's time to move on, as it should be.

Always More To Say

Years ago a dear mentor and friend recommended I read Flannery O'Connor. I became a fan immediately. There is a pervasive faith in her writing and also humor (when I asked a hippy-dippy writing professor of mine why he liked O'Connor's writing he replied, "Flannery makes me laugh, man.") There is also shocking violence and an underlying anger.

It was a no-brainer that I'd be interested in the first biography ever on O'Connor, which just came out and in certain circles is getting a lot of hype. So two weeks ago when I fell asleep on the bus and had to get off at the fancy Route 4 mall with the Barnes and Noble, I tool it as a sign.

I've been trying to get through the book but suspect some kind of scam. I don't doubt the sincerity or diligence of the writer. There's just way too much detail for my taste. I can't get through it, but I want to. It's so extreme that I can't imagine anyone reading every word. I've noticed that most reviewers quote from the charming story about a backwards walking chicken that opens the book and that's about it. A friend alerted me to a review by Joyce Carol Oates, which is much more readable than the books. I suggest reading the original works of O'Connor (start with A Good Man Is Hard To Find and you should be hooked). For more insight into her life I suggest the collections of her speeches and letters which are more heartfelt and to the point than this biography called Flannery by Brad Gooch, which I think misses presents every tree and leaves it to fans of Flannery to find the forest (as Oates did).

While I'm being hoity toity/literary I might as well tell you that I liked this week's fiction piece in The New Yorker. You can find it here. There's a lot that struck me in this short story. I've never gotten the holiday hotel experience, used to say that it felt to me like being in a very fancy jail. So this line by Brad Watson in The Visitation stood out: "With its courtyard surrounded by two stories of identical rooms, and excepting the lack of guard towers and the presence of a swimming pool, it followed the same architectural model as a prison." I found the whole story strong, it really pulled me along.

On the Torah side of things - here's what I posted last year and gave out to and discussed with students on Friday regarding Tzav. There's more to say but I feel like closing up this post.

Only I - II

I've heard in the name of several Gedolim that American Jews finally learned what Shabbos is but still haven't discovered Erev Shabbos. I wish I kept Erev Shabbos properly - constantly, consistently, consciously preparing and awaiting all day - like a man in love.

n

For Shabbos I wait

for the Shabbos of my youth

for the Shabbos of the world to come

for the Shabbos twenty minutes from now

I wait for Shabbos

l

The Seventh Day
h
"Only I," she said
"Only I have no partner"
And G-d heard her pain
He brought her her other half
The Jewish People know peace

lll

Says Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai:
After the work of creation was completed,
the Seventh day pleaded:
Master of the universe,
all that You've created is in couples;
to every day of the week You gave a mate;
only I was left alone.
And G-d answered:
The community of Israel will be your mate.
k
- Breishit Rabbah 11:8

;

Take A Rest, Let G-d Carry Everything

kn

Wishing each single
G-d image made with wisdom
a Shabbat Shalom

Diamante Of The Day

"Nebach"

he said

but with kindness

as I slaved away

working at the copy machine

twenty minutes after he first passed

"Semichah prepared me for this"

I said and smiled,

hoping I'm not

ever a

nebach

More is More - Hagaddah 4.0

If you've been around this blog for a while, and you have a good memory, or you print things out and save them then you won't find anything new in this year's Hagadda (I don't think). It's the version I gave out to students and guests last year, but it may be different from past posted versions.

You can find my 13 page (I think) Hagaddah here, at parshapost.

I hope to post some new things soon, pleeeaase G-d, such as a different take on why we eat matzah versus chameitz and the real meaning of Kadesh being the first step of the Seder.

Wow

GMAGB

Sometimes when I post, I write that I wrote at 11:59 PM or thereabouts. Not this time:

It is already
the morning
of today
but feels
like the night
of yesterday.

My wireless is working so I have the luxury of writing seconds after having regained consciousness. I love that state of still being close to sleep dreams but being awake enough to communicate. I sit here yawning, thinking of Pharoh and Achashveirosh (can you name any other Biblical or literary characters- besides Billy Joel - who woke up in the middle of the night?

I Believe That Not Sleeping Well Always Means Something

2

There's the uniquely human

anticipatory anxiety on one hand

and the carrying of the past on the other.

In between these two arms is a body,

alive as a second hand - thank G-d,

processing, planning, repenting, accepting,

wanting more minutes in the day while

yearning for more hours of sleep.

u

Tonight I have a date after work. These first meetings are always filled with past and future, with anticipation and memory, and hopefully some quality present tense. Sometimes it feels like everything I see/say is a metaphor.

I was speaking to a colleague about relationships in the general sense of the word, because she was in the middle of a thread of lessons on identity and relationships. I was leaving the room and she was coming in and we exchanged just a few words. I told her one of my favorite quotes from the social work master HH Perlman, "Where there's friction, there's warmth." She liked it.

k

Last night at a farewell dinner for Janet Sperling, one of the kindest, most cheerful human beings I've ever encountered, my colleague told me that she shared my quote with her class. Which quote? When quote? It took me a while to recoup and go back to those seconds when we'd spoken, to recall what I'd said. As we processed the quote at dinner, I explained it via Perlman's example.

Two neighbors greet each other for years - "Good morning Bob!" "Good morning Bill!" This is not a relationship. One morning they are each picking their newspapers up off their lawns and as they see the headline about Obama they vehemently disagree. "He's ruining everything." "He's doing a fantastic job." Now they have a relationship. Where there's friction there's warmth.

j

As I shared the anecdote my colleague had an epiphany; "It just dawned on me as you were talking, what you probably already realized, that that saying is also referring to the idea of how when you rub things together (she illustrated with her hands) it makes friction /warmth!"

;

Poetry

was once

how people talked,

an organic speech pattern.

Not trying to be fancy,

it just was what it was.

It wasn't forced on anyone.

A word like "boggles"

followed by "blogging"

was simply

poetry.

j

On page 28 0f an article from the NY Daily News on March 26, 2009 there was a feature entitled Science FUNomena. The unattributed piece focused on tidbits about plants. One section read as follows:

;

Plant Poem: A "diamante" is a special kind of poem that is shaped like a diamond. It has one word on the first line, two on the second in a 1,2,3,4,5,6,5,4,3,2,1 pattern.

;

The writer goes on to suggest thinking about plants and then assigns a diamante. He or she says that "the first and last line should be the word plants."

;

I've googled "diamante" and found no-one else that describes it this way. And yet, since this is the way I first learned of it, this is the style of diamante that I am adopting/adapting.

'

Good Morning And G-d Bless

;

P.S. The diamante about poetry was inspired by a comment on Anne's blog.

;

P.P.S. I just had an idea: E-piphany, a site where people post (or are helped to attain) their epiphanies.