Ten Minute Free Write (Is There Such A Thing As A Free Write?)

Ten minutes on the clock. Go. Turkey roll and avocado on a sandwich make a great combo. I think avocado is nature's miraculous mayonnaise, it should be mixed with tuna. Help me out here, I believe in this. I want it to happen; tuna and avocado. Speaking about beliefs I spent a while today working on things I believe in. I had lunch with a student, once a student always a student - feels like yesterday but it was about ten years ago maybe more that he was in my shiur/class. Then I worked through some Torah ideas with a mentor. I once wrote here that I watched West Wing and a reader reacted with surprise. So maybe I shouldn't tell you that I just watched Lie To Me. Fascinating. I have always been interested in the idea of non verbal communication, and contradictions between what we say and what we say - if you know what I mean. Apparently this character who can tell if someone's telling the truth is based on a real person. I'm pleased that I'd already noticed some of his insights on my own. People will often say they like something or someone while nodding their head no. My hunch was that it's a tell, and Dr. Lightman agrees. School is actually ending for the year, contract came in the mail on Shabbos, and please G-d I'll be going into year fifteen in the same school. I'm proud of you Neil. Thank you Neil. I have two more minutes? What to say. Often when I free write my hunger comes to mind. I should carry little snacks around because my hunger affects me so strongly. I need to minimize shoulds and do instead. One more minute on the clock. I believe in G-d, and that Torah is true and that this means the greatest meaning and pleasure we can have in life is following the path of G-d's Torah. And we're out of time.

And What Did You Do Today?

"Fine, thanks." Some of us need to work on the short answer - present blogger included. When people ask, "How are you?' I sometimes mistakenly answer in a complex way, the mistake being thinking thinking people want the answer my way. Years ago I heard that if you ask Al Gore what time it is he'll tell you how a watch is made. That's the kind of detail I could live without. But if I ask how you are I want to hear a nuanced, real answer. We tend to treat others the way we want to be treated, so if you give me a longhand answer to how you are I will hopefully try to be there with you taking in how you express how you are.

"What are you doing this summer?" The desired answer, "Going away to X." That's just one more example of a conversational question where one or more full sentences are not the desired answer. People in a wide array of contexts ask, "How are/were your classes this year?" The desired answer is, "Fine." And they are/were fine, and also my classes are/were great and complex in myriad ways.

חנך לנער על-פי דרכו -"Teach a child according to his way (and when he is old, he will not depart from it.)" Mishlei - Proverbs 22:6 - The vav is missing in Chanoch for, I think, 2 reasons. Rabbi Paysach Krohn says that the lesson here is that it's easy to teach a perfect kid, but we have to reach out to the imperfect. And no-one in this world is whole and complete. My take is that the verb - teach - is written incompletely to reflect our own lack as teachers. And yet we have to try.

I listened to Sarah Jessica Parker interviewed on NPR today and the real her surprisingly brought tears to my eyes. She spoke about the first time she saw Christina's World and how it opened up a world for her - the world of art. She feels strongly that anyone can draw and produce art. She also feels strongly that an appreciation of art is in all of our lives. I am not taken by the image I had of her before this interview. The real her, or at least the her she presented in this interview touched me. She says that all she has in common with her most famous character is looks, sometimes - and a love for New York City. The interviewer played a clip from Square Pegs in which she gets dumped by a guy. Sarah finished the line together with her young character in the clip - a line about reaching for the moon. She sounds a bit nerdy and proud of it. She loves museums and arts and is starting a show soon on cable, in which people compete with their art - and she hates that a winner gets chosen at the end, as that's not the point.

In this art themed show, studio 360, Alfred Molina was also interviewed. The interviewer said most people are probably familiar with Mark Rothko's art. Really? Molina plays Rothko in a new play and he and the play are each nominated for a Tony. He says that once you've done your homework you have to throw it away. He loves that the writing is not clumsy and that it is about the physical labor of making the art. There's a scene in which they - Rothko and his assistant - attack the canvas, every night. In the play Rothko argues against popular artists like Andy Warhol and he says it's better to be respected than to be liked. Molina doesn't mind playing unlikable characters, even when they have no apparent redemptive side at all. He had a Spanish mother and an Italian father, grew up in a working class neighborhood and attributes - humbly - that to his knack for accents, and also for a wide array of characters.

On another note (what else is new?) I was a fan of Peter and the Wolf as a kid. I still am, and yet in my mind it is inextricably tied to my childhood - particularly to my mom. Some years ago at a social work holiday party held at Hunter college I bought the Prokofiev music in the gift shop. I have fond memories of listening to the album along with narration as a child. Today I happened upon and watched this lovely rendition of the story, directed and adapted by Suzie Templeton.

Within the first few days of Gemorah class I always put the following on the board:

Time flies

You can't

They go too fast

It doesn't make sense right? If you change your thinking though and reject the common phrase time (noun ) flies (verb) in exchange for the understanding that this is a command to time (verb) the bugs called flies (noun) then the last line comes into focus. You can't time the flies because they go too fast. I use this to illustrate the idea of hava amina and maskana and how Gemorah shows you to think out of the box, to broaden your thinking, to develop sophisticated perception and perspective.

Two outstanding students L.R. and S.F. made this illustration of the original thought that time flies and submitted it together with an excellent write up of the full idea.

Bernard Raskas says (Heart of Wisdom III pg. 264) that if the letter Y is broken on a rabbi's keyboard then he's in trouble. There are three tiny words that a rabbi must keep in mind when he speaks, and they all include the letter y. 1- The rabbi must remember that he is speaking to a community of individuals. This is not for him, it's for YOU. 2 - Like a three year old child that asks with genuine curiosity over and over again, a rabbi must lead his listener to question and attempt to answer important WHYS. 3 - There must be something affirmed by the speaker and an enactment set into motion for the listeners. It comes down to one little, practical, positive word: YES.

Time for sleep. I wish peace to those of you who are out of work, those of you who are alone and unhappy, those of you who are in unhappy relationships, for people with illnesses diagnosed and un, labelled and un, physical and non physical. I wish a peaceful night sleep to you. Try chamomile tea, it worked for Peter of and The Rabbit fame. I wish you honesty and kindness and grace. Goodnight and may G-d bless.

HaZor'im BeDim'ah BeRinah Yiktzoru

There is no cry of pain without,

at its end, an echo of joy.

- Ramón de Campoamor

OYAT

One Year Ago Today - I posted these poems right before my soul stole away:

Five Seconds To Sleep

When I blog just before sleep, I think about the prayer for forgiveness that we say at this time. It's more a proclamation than a prayer. We simply say we forgive whoever hurt us today in any way...

"...to forgive - Divine"

for humans it takes longer

sometimes a lifetime

Sometimes I wonder

If I'm being punished

for people I've hurt and

not reconciled with...

When asked who my favorite is

Of all the characters in the Bible

My standard answer is King David

Because he was a guy's guy and a poet

But as I lay in bed, approaching sleep and

In this in between state I access inner truth

I feel like I most relate to Joseph The Dreamer

who felt all that happened in his life was from G-d

And told his brothers that - but never, "I forgive you"

GVAGNAGB

We all, I think, have pre-written stories about our lives and the lives of those around us. Life includes death and both include surprises. I know so many cases where life and death don't play out as expected - makes you wonder why we ever expect anything to go as we expect.

No one was expecting my mother to die any time soon. That's what I was thinking when I wrote this right after the shloshim:

It's the Livyason's Turn

hhb

Till my mother died

I thought she would never die

That's how she played it

Is there a proper way to grieve? I've heard that Kubler Ross' stages have been questioned and were never truly scientific in the first place. That makes sense to me.

The grieving is ever present. Six months and counting. And the shock.

I bought The Death of Death at the YU/SOY Sefarim sale. Was reading it a bit over Shabbos. The author is coming from a non traditional POV. I thought it might bring me comfort. So far no such luck.

Also read Paul Shaffer's autobio over Shabbos. A mechayah. I think Paul would like my calling it that. It's the truth.

I have written about 20 Junior recommendations, 30 something more to go. Review sheets to write. Finals to write. Teaching to finish, and, and, and.

Twelve Days Later (Click For Link)

True Stories May Never Have Happened

Zeus, to me is not real, and yet I understand

Yes, we need stories, and they are true even when they didn't happen

Xerxes was murdered by Artabanus; power corrupts

What is my truth? - we must always ask ourselves

Vast options of stories to tell ourselves lay before us

Until when we will tell ourselves stories that hurt/don't work?

Till we have brave hearts we won't face our true truth

So many times we will run from ourselves

Really, we are on a treadmill there is running but not escape

Quietly? Thoreau (and Artscroll*) is wrong; the desperation is loud

Please G-d, free us from exile, particularly the exile from our selves

"Only we know our own truth," would that this were so

"Now is the time for all good men..."

Me and mine are but a small piece of us and ours

Love, over-used as a word, under-displayed in action

"Kindness" has been replaced by "niceness," kindness - almost gone

"Just do it," a commercial slogan, can also be a deep truth

I (individual) vs. us (communal, and us (local) vs. us (global) - sigh

How do we change a self, community, world? Help us, please, G-d.

Goodness in all its complicated simplicity is misunderstood

Forgetting does not apply to those for whom hope lives in my heart

Early and Late exist, On Time - like the Tooth Fairy - does not exist

Downs and ups - if you alone ride them both well you will be less lonely

Crunch time is every second of every day

"Be Thou my vision, oh L-rd of my heart"

A truth is true backwards and forwards

*The Artscroll/Stone Chumash's

introduction to the book of Ruth states

- with no attribution - that,

"The great majority of people lead lives of quiet desperation."

An Uneasy, Imperfect Ride

While I was resting on my holy Sabbath Dennis Hopper died. Here's a piece about his death, life, and one unpublished biography.

How many perfect games have there been in the history of baseball? If you ask me - none. Baseball games are never perfect. And yet in baseball language there have been twenty perfect games, the twentieth one accomplished about twenty minutes ago by Roy Halladay. Cool.

In a related story I had a perfect Shabbos. Shabbos is always perfect, and as the title of one of my favorite books - by the great writer Sarah Shapiro - puts it, "Don't you know it's a perfect world?"

So Put Away That Hammer

Erevs are important. The lead in. Anticipation. Prep. They say that Rav Soloveitchik said that Americans had yet to learn about erev Shabbos. Guilty as charged. It's meant to be a day preparing inside and out for Shabbos. If only (to quote what Hillel Goldberg once wrote about Shabbos).

Besides preparing fish heads and sweeping the floor (nothing like inside Gemore references) there's a lot of ways to prepare for Shabbos. Even if you're stuck at work till the wire you can pine.

I guess that considering the parsha is part of preparing. I think there is a traditional belief that the parsha is relevant for the week it's read - so we can think about tie ins to our life and the lives of others. And we can simply go diving into the Torah portion of the week for treasures?

What a sad parsha Behaalotcha is. Salvation gets turned on its head like an upside down nun (the Hebrew letter, not the woman belonging to a religious order of the church). As Rav Soloveichik sees it two years into their travels it was time to go to Israel, forever. It was time for the era of Mashiach. That's why there's the talk about the trumpets and war - it was supposed to truly be the war that would end all wars. That's why Moshe invites Yitro to join him. It's metaphorical, Moshe was saying that all people of the world were welcome to sign on to the good times about to come...

I'd right more but it's time to say Good Shabbos.

On Be'ha'alotchah

A man walks into a monastery. He must take a vow of silence, but once a year he is permitted write a word on the chalkboard in front of the head monk. The first year it's tough not to talk, but Word Day arrives and the monk writes "The" on the chalk board. The second year is extremely painful - but finally Word Day rolls around. He etches "Food" on the board. The third year is excruciating, but the monk struggles through it and when it's Word Day again he approaches the black board and writes the word "Stinks". The head monk looks at him and asks "What's with you? You've been here three years and all you've done is complain."

Click here for a Beha'lotcha thought on complaining that includes this joke (Anne - if you see this this can you explain again when it's that and when it's which?).

There are four details about Lashon HaRa that, according to the Chafetz Chaim, we learn from the episode of Miriam’s words against Moshe. Click here to find out what they are, through my POV.

Dan Fletcher in Time Magazine

k

k

k

k

k

k

k

f

"Nearly 500

million people worldwide live

their lives on Facebook"

Rabbi Moshe Besdin Warned Me Of The Written Word

The other night I met an author who has written two very personal, honest, revealing books. I imbibed these works, feeling like her books read me as much as I read them. In person I had the misguided sense that I was talking to a friend I knew well. I kindly referenced parts of her personal life that I knew of well because she'd told me. She seemed uncomfortable. I don't blame her. She shared these things with me through the curtains of pages read by thousands, which for her allowed it to feel safe and unreal. She hadn't read my book; I haven't written one. She hadn't read my blog. She didn't know my name. Yet I knew her intimately - because she had revealed herself to me, albeit through a one way mirror. When I talked back to her from the other side, citing chapter and verse I thought it threw her. I thought I saw her squirm -without meaning to. I don't blame her.

Good Morning Vietnam

Like Achashveirosh
Awake, wee early morning
There is a reason
Went to bed deprived of sleep
Haunting shortcomes pull me up

Personified poems

I can't believe that a year has passed since I stood at a bus stop, waiting and waiting and writing.

Carry On

k

All that I see goes
In the bags under my eyes
They are for storage

Humor

Your sense of humor

Will drop by and save your life

If you let her in

Self Reliance

On self reliance

You can surely/always count

If you can own it

Sad Pity

Self pity remains

the saddest of all the pities

standing so alone

Impatience

Extreme impatience

Loves to drive you to your grave

Going way too fast

Pity

Pity; enemy
Though he poses as a friend
The friend is kindness
Whom pity pushes aside
So you stay just where you are

Insecurity

Prompts us to show what we know

When it's not our turn

When someone else has the stage

And it makes us look foolish

Tiredness and Anger

Tiredness, like her

Cousin Anger

can be your friend

if you will just listen

to what she is saying

Hunger and Boredom

Hunger

and her brother

Boredom

come by

to point out

holes in our insides.

Not Happy Ever After, But Happy Enough

"Yesterday I got so old it made me want to cry." Ben Folds sings these words and bangs his piano keys into my ears as I sit feeling tired, hungry, and a bit (apply Fleischmann rule of ignoring modifiers in emotional contexts) tired. This guys good, yet another young, wise old musician (in the spirit of Billy - "Soon enough it will all be over because tomorrow is today" - Joel, Bruce - "Glory days - they'll pass you by in the wink of a young girl's eye" - Spingsteen, and Bob - "We were young and strong and we were running against the wind" - Seger).

It was a good day. I'm tempted to quote my friend's comment when I once said I had a long day - that it wasn't longer or shorter than any other day. The last time I cited this line dear Pesach wondered what's behind that line striking me so hard. I think I know. I think i like the idea of having a long day and am fascinated by how different people can be. There are 16 possible personality combinations on the Meyers - Briggs spectrum. And yet it is human nature to think there is only one valid personality - ours. We all tend to gravitate to preaching choirs of friends, and of course I do too. And yet I'm proud that the bounds of loyalty have kept me friends with people who live 360 degrees away from my INFP self.

It was, in fact, a long day. Six classes, three Torah Guidance meetings, and I gave the mishmar class after school. that was fun. I like it when my Torah is my fun. I'm not a big fan of cottage industry consumerist fun. Or am I?

I just bought Paul Shaffer's autobiography. I want to say first that I once bumped into Paul in Central Park and he was natural and nice. I like my authors nice. Nice is a yucky word - Paul seems more than nice, real, loving, loyal, whimsical, even kind. And he is talented in a complicated - am I really this talented? - kind of way.

Paul makes no secret of the fact that he had help in articulating his words for the page. It was a smart move to get a writer's help, and a generous move to share the billing with David Ritz. Paul, like many an author I read these days says he grew up Orthodox, attending Congregation Shaarey Shamayim. He says at the start of the book that he feels that he has a lot to atone for and that "to understand that process fully, we must go back to the beginning."

Now Warren Zevon sings to me, "For my next trick I'll need a volunteer." Talk about old souls. When he was dying young Letterman asked him if he had any words of wisdom and he said, "Enjoy every sandwich." That became the fitting name of the tribute album. I particularly recommend Jill Sobule's cover of Don't Let Us Get Sick, which Warren wrote long before he knew he was sick.

Tomorrow is a work day, I need to head toward preparing for another day. Rinse, repeat. I once heard Siobhan Adcock speak and throw that line in as an aside. It made a impression on me.

I hope you (plural) are happy enough, safe enough, and and and.

A Sigh and a Link: For Pesach

Pesach writes beautifully, and there's nothing like loss to bring it out:

As my siblings and I have gone through our parent’s house this week, I have come to realize that I must have gotten this habit from my mom. My dad never saved much of anything. I suspect that he had no desire to hold onto memories of a painful childhood that included the death of his father and constant challenges from a difficult mother. My mom, on the other hand, saved everything. We have discovered old photos, birthday cards, postcards and coupons so old that the issuing company no longer exists. We have laughed as we have looked at old drawings and things we wrote, and cried while reading birthday cards our parents exchanged.

To read the whole post, click here.

Herr's

o

o

o

oSoon no more cheese curls

no more heart break or weight gain

No more sunset skies

The Greatest Haiku Ever Written - Ever

Defining hubris:

Something you know when you see

and pray not to have

Names

By Robert Creeley

l

Marilyn's was Norma Jean,

Things are not always what they seem,

Skin she lived back of like some screen

l

kept her wonder in common view,

said what she did, you could too,

loved by many, touched by few,

m

She married heroes of all kinds

but no-one seemed to know her mind,

none the secret key could find,

j

Scared kid, Norma Jean?

Are things really what they seem?

What is it that beauty means?

Mirror Images

This drawing (by the modest and talented S.T.) represents the idea that our holiest day of the year is called Yom KiPurim. This can be taken to mean - and the AriZal saw it this way - that in a way Purim is the greater holiday to which Yom Kippur is being compared. I hope that the student's expalanation is legible in this outlet.

"Something Sacred I Long for"

I am reminded of readings past. I wrote here (and before that - here) about some of the nicest inscriptions I've received and the moments surrounding them. Thanks you forever to Nicole Krause, Hal Sirowitz, Dana Gioia, Amy Krouse Rosenthal, and Cynthia Kaplan for not only being great writers but for using their positions to be kinder than they had to be (to me). Dara Horn was also gracious and generous with her time, though I had read but not owned her books at the time and therefore lost out on the inscription experience (though she spoke comfortably with me at her reading and replied kindly to my email about the ending of The World To Come.) Years ago I met perhapps the most venerable poet alive today and I was hononored to buy his book, The Niche Narrows, and have him sign it: "To Neil Fleischmann with my best wishes - May 2002 - Samuel Menashe."

Rav Chaim Brisker was once asked (in a fascinating ahead of its time book) what he felt - in a word - was the role of a rabbi. He said, : "Chessed - kindness."

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The Story We Know
[ f
By Martha Collins
The way to begin is always the same. Hello,
Hello. Your hand, your name. So glad, just fine,
and Good bye at the end. That’s every story we know,

and why pretend? But lunch tomorrow? No?
Yes? An omelet, salad, chilled white wine?
The way to begin is simple, sane, Hello,

and then it’s Sunday, coffee, the Times, a slow
day by the fire, dinner at eight or nine
and Good bye. In the end, this is a story we know

so well we don’t turn the page, or look below
the picture, or follow the words to the next line:
The way to begin is always the same Hello.

But one night, through the latticed window, snow
begins to whiten the air, and the tall white pine.
Good bye is the end of every story we know

that night, and when we dose the curtains, oh,
we hold each other against that cold white sign
of the way we all begin and end. Hello,
Good bye is the only story. We know, we know.
\
A student shared this poem with me just yesterday morning. It reminded me of something I've been saying for years that I'm now considering writing up as The Frum Story We Know. Life seems to me to be a series of these questions and comments: How was you summer? Have a good year. Have a nice Sukkos. How was your Sukkos? Have a nice Pesach. How was your Pesach. What are you doing for the summer? Have a nice summer. How was your summer? Have a good year. How was your year? Rinse. Repeat.
\

--------------------------------------

i

There is a sandstorm

I safely enter my tent

Sheltered from the storm

Amazed I exit the tent

To find that the storm has stopped

'

I shared this with a colleague today and he said that he relates except for the part of exiting the tent because when he leaves - the storm is still going on. He might relate more to this next one, which I wrote after the one above.

[

Behind the chaos

is a locked and bolted door

Break it down, find peace

;

This tanka and haiku were based on visualization ideas that I was told were based on the life work of Colette Aboulker-Muscat. It's interesting because I've heard her approach used in a very different way. i think she has many students, each taking what they took and running forward with it.

[

----------------------------------------

'

The heir apparent

The daughter of the owner

She holds her head high

The new My Most Favorite

Has A Mark That's All her Own

*

Eating out alone

Can be a treat for oneself

The good kind of fine

[

-------------------------------------------
]

More Than a Nuisance

p

Manhattan sirens

a loud wake up call to prayer

for an ill other
[

All or nothing views

often, although not always,

don't lead to something

[

-------------------------------------------

The Secret

;

By Denise Levertov

o
Two girls discover
the secret of life
in a sudden line of
poetry.

I who don't know the
secret wrote
the line. They
told me

(through a third person)
they had found it
but not what it was
not even

what line it was. No doubt
by now, more than a week
later, they have forgotten
the secret,

the line, the name of
the poem. I love them
for finding what
I can't find,

and for loving me
for the line I wrote,
and for forgetting it
so that

a thousand times, till death
finds them, they may
discover it again, in other
lines

in other
happenings. And for
wanting to know it,
for

assuming there is
such a secret, yes,
for that
most of all.

;

Thank you to Rachel Besser for sharing this poem

The Love/Fear Link

See here for a related post

Nosei Be'Ol Im Chaveiro

Sometimes we get it

an other's situation

feel it in our gut

KeVatikin

This painting was submitted for my end of year Gemorah project. The assignment was to represent something that we learned through art. It had to be accompanied by a written explanation. The written parts will, hopefully be displayed together with the works - museum style.



This painting represents the ideal time to say Shmah in the morning. The holiest way to do it is top recite Shmah right before sunrise and Shmoneh Esrei right after. The words of Shma recently poured out from this man's heart and now the sun shines. There are a lot more details about the earliest and latest times fro Shmah, which these students did a terrific job of writing up.



Thank you Sarah W. and Leah B, who not only did the work, but also got it framed on their own. Special thanks to Leah who believed in this project from the start and helped make it happen for the whole class. A very special thanks to my school's incredible art teacher Ahuva Mantel who assisted our students every step of the way.

Question

Where is man daily?

While spending time blaming G-d?

Why don't men save man?

The Flower

y

By Robert Creeley

I think I grow tensions

like flowers

in a wood where

nobody goes.

Each wound is perfect,

encloses itself in a tiny

imperceptible blossom,

making pain.

Pain is a flower like that one,

like this one,

like that one,

like this one.

k

Thank You To Tikvah Weiner

For Sharing This Poem With Me

Dang, Howdy!

I have a free on Mondays and I listened to Pandora while working, and every song was good. Hodu LaHashem Ki Tov!

Zeetuay: Xylophones Lately

Zen Buddhism doesn't strike me as offering a truth that's not in Judaism

You'd think people could get that it's best to look first in your backyard

Xylophones and childhood: I wonder why I've seen no Xylophones lately

Why do people think that the music of youth has to be faded away

Vineyards wind throught the landscape of my imagination

Until is a double edged word, a word I get stuck in like since

Time...

Sometimes time gets stuck in my throat, there is nothing I can do to speak

Really I feel like I use too many or too few words every time I speak

Quietness can be busier than long talk

Perhaps is a mantra in my bloodstream

Or; a small operative word for me representing options endless options

Nice to meet you is a phrase I say and hear and wonder when it's true

My complexity is high priced, and on sale, at once

Loneliness has no face

Kick me sign placed on me at eleven haunts me still

Just kidding is a phrase which shoiud be banned - think about it

Intimacy of words can be imoral

Hiding sometimes is to be respected

Goodness can only chase us if we have no solid home base

Forgiveness is a high rung of divinity

Everything has symetry, symetry has everything

Do unto others... All else is commentary

Come let us be bloggers and readers and sit for a while

Business your own mind

Alone we are born - cliche'd and unique, and as for death - the same

Looking

,
I was thinking of looking at posts from this day over the past five years of blogging. Wow, five years. Time flies. I was trying to remember when it was that I sat with the school float and was surprised that it was two years ago. On what feels like the other hand my six week stint in Israel was four years ago.

In May of just last year I wrote before sleep - three poems about forgiveness, and included an idea I learned from Rav Nachman Kahane - that Yosef never told the brothers he forgave them. Posting before sleep, when I'm really on the way is still new. I am really on the way out, truly free write and therefore tend to not recall those posts till I see them again. Also last May I wrote this backwards alphabetical poem, which I totally forgot about yet like. And this poem about our various selves.

In May '08 I wrote this post of haiku, with extras hidden in the comments. I worry about those posts where I say a lot in the comments. I recently started backing up posts (poo poo poo) but not comments. That year Pesach was in May and I took some photos in and around Camp Isabella Freedman.

In May '07 I bought a rug at a street fair while on a date. I still have the rug.

On May 6, 2007 I marched in the Israel Day Parade and wrote a poem about it. That day, at the parade, a previously anonymous reader came up to me and told me who he/she was.

In May '06 I posted this poem by Aaron (OBM) and Mirty got it. I also posted this poem by Tom Wayman shortly before I wrote him and he wrote me back and sent me a free copy of his book. I miss my walks to the park nearby the old school building's campus. I miss working with Rabbi Yitzchak Twerski. I hope that somewhere I have a copy, or that perhaps it's in an administrative file, of the beautiful write up he gave me - which I shared a bit about (here) to the joy of my parents and others. I miss the days when there was a chevra of bloggers who are now more low key or gone, I miss the chevra that I wrote about and heard from - here.

In May '05 I wrote this haiku and shared it in a post that I named Link Heaven:

elegant anguish

feeling, sitting on a blog:

a tint all its own

v

That was shortly after Rav Wolbe passed away and I wrote about him and mussar and and and. That month I also wrote about Rock Davis and her friend Richard Joel and was honored with a comment by my Fairy Blogmother Esther Kustanowitz.

j

I wrote about sharing anorexia of the soul with Richard Lewis.

b
That May I shared a joke that someone had shared with me on Passover, a joke which I wore on the day I posted it.

m

I've shared a lot over the year. may G-d bless us to live and be well and share more here.

One Of Those Days

It's been many years running that I've been at the Israel day parade. Thought it seems redundant I feel compelled to state that in reverse: It's been many years since I've skipped the parade. And yet. And yet. And yet. And yet.

I try to be a good person. I also try to be a good soldier at work. There have been quite a few occasions where I've chaperoned kids to events outside of school time because I was asked to do so. Sometimes, as was the case a couple of years ago, I've put in extra hours surrounding the Israel Day Parade. On this day two or three years ago I sat with a float and the school's band members for hours before anyone else arrived because the float and band members had to be there early and someone had to be with them.

I like the day of the parade. I enjoy marching and being waved to by dear friends and family. I like seeing people I haven't seen for years. I like being part of a school community. I like meeting up with close family members afterwards for dinner.

Last year dad was in Israel and I visited mom for dinner after the parade. I feel her loss all the time, and yet there are days of note. Today is one of those days.

Rabbi Pesach Oratz Z"TL

o

There are no words but inadequate ones, no measure to my indebtedness, no limit to my gratitude, no way to describe my loss. I merited to learn at the feet of this holy man, to receive advice from him, to chat with him, to observe him. I miss him so; though I saw him all too seldom, I depended on him. And now he has gone to his world.

HI

Five and a half years (plus). That's how long we've been in conversation here... I am grateful to G-d for the ability to write, express, to mention, to manage. I am thankful that crumpled notes morphed into diaries and into this blog. I welcome all and thank you for reading and I apologize for my part for any pain or misunderstanding my words cause once I set them loose and they become yours to process.

Process; that's what life is. Social workers favor that word, so does Dani Shapiro. Life is a process. Alan Morinis says life is a curriculum and when we drop courses G-d re-enrolls us, which sometimes feels like falling in the same bowl of soup repeatedly - and really, we do it to ourselves. We avoid and thus repeat our coursework.

Speaking of coursework. Yes, the school year is coming to a close - kinda-sorta. Not yet, but soon. Ish.

I had wanted to write a lot, and lost my umph for posting. But I feel like sometimes I just want to be here. Whoa that's deep.

It's Time To Say Good Shabbos, Let Go, Let G-d

Five minutes, max that's how long I'm allowing myself here - that's what we're looking at. Shabbos hovering, stress running away - hopefully. If only. It is. Kinda sorta. Teaching was good today; I gave a test, the students took it. Sounds right. Felt right. I am grateful to be a teacher.

I am grateful to feel generally safe. Shabbos is a safety zone. But I'm also thinking about not only the holy time of Shabbos, but of space. I generally feel safe and comfortable in the space I'm in, with the people I'm around. And for this I say, thank you G-d, Almighty.

Someone I know once advised a parent, "Never criticize your adult child - and when they're on the cusp - be careful." I'd just add the word very. I like to add the word very, in general. I'm a cautious guy - maybe too cautious much of the time.

One more minute in my time limit. May G-d bless us all to get wiser as we age, more patient, and softer, and also harder - all in the right proportions and contexts.

"I'm afraid our time is just about up? Do we have time for one -"
"Go ahead."

Good Shabbos, G-d Bless

me to slow down my sighing

you to gentler

him to be a bit kinder

and her to find her way home

k

We're over time and we're out of here.

Moshe's Log: End of Year Forty

As we finish up a year of learning Sefer Devarim, Moshe is about to die. We studied this in depth and additionally I asked my students to write a diary entry as if they were Moshe at this time. Here's one example:

Dear Diary,

I am going to die.

I mean, I’ve known for a while now--since the incident with the rock. Stupid, stupid, stupid me. I should have known better. Water has always been a problem. I couldn’t even send the water plagues! I should have known bringing water from the rock would turn out bad. And now I am going to die for it.

I am going to die.

It is still hard to take in. I’m never going to see Israel. I’m never going to see B’nei Yisrael again.

I am going to die.

40 years in the desert. 40 years! That is one third of my life. Wow, I’m old. I have been with these people for a whole third of my life. I helped them leave Egypt, I brought them the Torah, I argued with Hashem on their behalf, I defended them, and I took care of them. And what do I get in return? Nothing. Not even a simple thank you. I went through all that trouble for them and I don’t even get a thank you.

They are going to let me die without even saying thank you.

Am I afraid to die? I don’t know. I don’t even know if it has hit me yet. You’d think I’d be afraid, but I don’t feel afraid. I just feel…calm, I guess. It’s not a bad feeling, you know. Just kind of…empty.

I am going to die.

And in the middle of the day too. In front of everyone, all the people that know me, they are all going to be there staring at me, watching me. What if I cry? What if I vomit? What if I run away? What if they can’t let go? What if I can’t let go? I know Yehoshuah will be a great leader and all, but I should be their leader! I should be the one bringing them into Israel!

No, no, no you can’t think like that! Yehoshuah has to do it. They will be okay. I will be okay.

I am going to die.

They’re waiting for me. I can feel them waiting. I should go. It is almost the middle of the day. I have to die in the middle of the day. They have to see. They have to let go.

I am going to die.

Ghosts From Nassas Past

"The most important things to remember about time are that you need it and that you have it." - Nancy Peacock

Motzai Shavuos

Right after I horse and buggy'ed it home tonight I got a call from an old friend. He needed stories/jokes for a dinner speech. His vort was going to be that besides whatever else a Shul dinner may be (fundraiser, social event, fundraiser, way to honor members, fundraiser) it also connects every individual to the klal, reminding them that they are an important cog in the community. I gave him several on the spot. It made me feel a bit less uncomfortable with the public welcome from the bimah that I received in one of the Shuls I was in over YT. Another one of the Shul rabbis told me that he used a joke that a mutual friend had passed on to him from me.

Shavuos night was a taste of heaven. I learned with student after student, some whom I knew, others new to me. There was studying from Avot, for tomorrow's Chumash test, reading from Do Unto Others, general sharing of vorts and stories and more. Next door public shiurim were given, including one on Yichud by my dear colleague Rabbi Shelly Morris, in which his hook was the true story of a frum single woman who jumped off a 25 foot high ski lift (see here, and here for the story).

I want to tell you all about the holiday but sleep calls, so headlines will have to suffice: ate pretty healthily/reasonably, am amazed by Dani Shapiro's Devotion, love the premise of Seriously Funny, got chizuk from Rabbi Gavriel Zinner's sefer on Shavuot, enjoyed Rabbi Duvie Weiss' vort on the deeper meaning of why night precedes day in Judaism, met Rebetzin Peshi Neuberger and found out her married offspring lives across the street from me, was welcomed from the bimah by Rabbi Yaakov Neuberger thanks to a well meaning congregant, enjoyed his vort impromptu speech which he used instead of his prepared speech because it came to him during Hallel and he felt it and decided to go with it: it was in part inspired by the fact that someone had trouble figuring out how to open the Aron and then Rabbi Elchonon Doolitz called out, reach behind the curtain and you'll see the strings are there - the idea being that we believe in hashgacha - as we said in Hallel that Hashem will remember and bless us because we trust in Him...

Gutten Erev Shavuos 5770

Last Shabbos I discovered an Israeli newspaper called Makor Rishon. It wasn't mentioned, I didn't see it, but I learned of it. The rabbi of my father's shul (tslabw) cited a sefer called Parashot by Chaim Navon. It's a favorite of his, intellectual in the conventional sense of the word, quoting from scholars in a wide range of academic topics. I was intrigued by this week's drasha that cited the sefer. I looked him up and found that Chaim Navon has several English pieces on line. The one that grabbed me was on the topic of dealing with a dying person.

Rabbi Kornblau opened his speech by reading from a postcard that he wrote his parents when he was a kid. The entirety of the postcard, besides the address, salutation and sign off read, "My name is still Barry." He contrasted this with the habit of a colorful uncle of his. If his uncle got your answering machine instead of you, the message you'd get was him shouting out his last name and slamming down the phone. These snippets of memory, the stress on first name or last, served as a moshal for youth's emphasis on individual identity, and the predilection of people who pass a point age and maturity wise who tend to focus more on the family name (an analogy presented and idea developed by Rabbi Navon).

The main body of the talk was a focus on the importance of family. Rabbi Kornblau read from Rav Samson Rafael Hirsch who zeroes in on the repeated use of the word family in parshat Bamidmar. Rav Hirsch explains that family is the center of Jewish life, the key of it all. Rav Navon explains that family suffered two major blows in the past two centuries. First there was nationalism, which put the broad cause of the people over immediate family. Then came individuality - the focus on self as opposed to the family unit.

Rabbi Kornblau bravely ended with his own caveat, which he seemed quite passionate about. He said that as important as family is, it is a sad mistake when people's lives are exclusively about their family. One must have causes, interests, and a healthy sense of self and self improvement. As important as family is it is not meant to be the sole total emphasis of a serious adult's life.

That was a piece of Shabbos, the drasha. At kiddush a man spoke openly to me about his struggle with Parkinson's disease and the good (sic) that has come from it. He's created his own treatments, helped many others, and is on the verge of possibly helping millions. To me a wow.

Another gentleman wanted to know if it's Yisaschar or Yisachar and what Yom HaMeYuchas means. A knowledgeable congregant - a professor at JTS for many years - said that he thinks that one family at some point changed the name's pronunciation at some point. The same man said that his understanding of Yom HaMeyuchas is that since it's a day without innate import, it was given a title of appeasement, so to speak.

Shavuot is coming, which if you think about it is a funny thing to say. Shavuot means weeks, so Shavuot has actually passed. The weeks following Pesach lead up to a holiday. Weeks is an unusual name for a holiday. According to Rav Avigdor Nebenzahl the name for this holiday that stuck is Shavuot because it reflects the idea that the meaning of this day is built on the time which precedes it. That's big.

I was about to write heavy instead of big above. Some think that I take life too heavily. At the point in my life when I decided to take religion seriously, I decided that life is a serious thing. As Tom Petty wrote, "And I won't back down."

Life is serious. There's G-d's word. We must study His Book. We must keep the details of the law. There is also G-d's world. We are to live in it and sanctify it. We are to take care of ourselves so we can fulfill our mission here. There are beautiful and holy elements of this world that we are to enjoy and experience in deep spiritual ways. I'm down with that. We can even relax and have fun as a way to rejuvenate ourselves. However, fun or relaxation as ends in and of themselves are concepts that from a serious spiritual point of view I have trouble wrapping my head around. And yet I wonder if there is an and yet,

I'm heading out to Teaneck soon. I'm not sure of the number but I'd say it's at least the tenth year I'm going out there to learn with students all night. Whenever I get there I'll be in ready to roll mode - no more computer once I leave here/home.

I like writing right before Yom Tov and Shabbos. This will have to do.

I am grateful for many things in life. A dear friend of mine and I sometimes sit and list what we're grateful for. Toward the top was always my parents being alive. Have to work on that one - praying for mom's neshamah and for dad to live and be well. I am grateful for having a sense of humor, being healthy and alive, being a teacher and friend and having students and friends and family.

I have to cut myself off here and start one specific leg of my travels, may they all be swift and smooth as possible for all of us.

May we all be blessed with at least a second of true mindfulness, commitment, and serious thought this YT.