May 24
Five years ago on this date I posted these questions:
1. Ein Simcha KeHatarat Ha___________ (There's no joy like the removal of _________)
2. Who lived 350 additional years after the watershed event in his life?
3. What place is always spelled in Tanach with a letter missing? Why?
4. Name two people that traditional Jewish sources describe drawing a circle and refusing to walk out of it?
5. Who are we commanded to love?
2. Who lived 350 additional years after the watershed event in his life?
3. What place is always spelled in Tanach with a letter missing? Why?
4. Name two people that traditional Jewish sources describe drawing a circle and refusing to walk out of it?
5. Who are we commanded to love?
Four years ago at about this time I wrote this:
On Scrubbing
To me a neat poem is real, a clean toilet less so. Yet, these things must be cared for and so this morning I am cleaning house. I like when things are ordered but making them so is not my forte. Yet, I value the concept, and even the thing itself and occasionally force myself to dive in - or more aptly, to wet my toes.
One of the odd jobs I did, while spending my twenties in yeshiva in Jerusalem, was that of pot washer. I did it a handful of times, but it was for hours each time. There was something otherworldly and also uniquely real about the act of washing dishes. The kitchen was an old school operation. I wore a giant rubber apron and sprayed water at high speeds onto large quantities of large cooking and eating utensils. There was little choice but to throw myself totally in to the moment and thus into the water and metal and rubber. And I sweated. And it felt very different, very difficult, and very good.
As much as I am disinclined to doing housework I sometimes think back to that yeshiva kitchen. I just now sat on the floor of my bathroom scrubbing away. And when it started to hurt I escaped to the computer. But, perhaps if I go back, push, and sweat it out, I'll get more of what I got in yeshiva that the learning didn't provide. Perhaps as I return now to clean I'll find something that this typing can't give me. I'm not sure what it is, but I know it when I experience it. Maybe it is the simple joy of hard physical labor. Or it is simply a clear example of how effort can remove dirt and purify. Perhaps it is the use of mostly body and a little bit mind, as opposed to the writing process which is the reverse (if the tapping of fingers counts at all). What it is is good. And while I sigh as I leave my keyboard, the same time I am happy to go back to the floor to scrub some more.
To me a neat poem is real, a clean toilet less so. Yet, these things must be cared for and so this morning I am cleaning house. I like when things are ordered but making them so is not my forte. Yet, I value the concept, and even the thing itself and occasionally force myself to dive in - or more aptly, to wet my toes.
One of the odd jobs I did, while spending my twenties in yeshiva in Jerusalem, was that of pot washer. I did it a handful of times, but it was for hours each time. There was something otherworldly and also uniquely real about the act of washing dishes. The kitchen was an old school operation. I wore a giant rubber apron and sprayed water at high speeds onto large quantities of large cooking and eating utensils. There was little choice but to throw myself totally in to the moment and thus into the water and metal and rubber. And I sweated. And it felt very different, very difficult, and very good.
As much as I am disinclined to doing housework I sometimes think back to that yeshiva kitchen. I just now sat on the floor of my bathroom scrubbing away. And when it started to hurt I escaped to the computer. But, perhaps if I go back, push, and sweat it out, I'll get more of what I got in yeshiva that the learning didn't provide. Perhaps as I return now to clean I'll find something that this typing can't give me. I'm not sure what it is, but I know it when I experience it. Maybe it is the simple joy of hard physical labor. Or it is simply a clear example of how effort can remove dirt and purify. Perhaps it is the use of mostly body and a little bit mind, as opposed to the writing process which is the reverse (if the tapping of fingers counts at all). What it is is good. And while I sigh as I leave my keyboard, the same time I am happy to go back to the floor to scrub some more.
Three years ago on May 22 I wrote this :
Besides everything
children are markers
something to hold
the years quickly fading
Two years ago to the day I wrote:
A man goes up to an elderly Jewish woman and says "I haven't eaten for three days." She replies, "Force yourself."
Right now I am pushing myself to share in this venue.
If you go to the first month of this blog's archives, November of 2004, what you'll see first is a post consisting mostly of Keb Mo's lyrics to his song, Let Your Light Shine.
That post sat for four and a half years until it received a comment yesterday. Thank you Cantor Shira. One never knows, do one? Thank you Fats Waller.
On May 24, 2010, I wrote this poem:
Where is man daily?
While spending time blaming G-d?
Why don't men save man?
posted by rabbi neil fleischmann @ 10:46 PM
2 Comments:
"And I sweated. And it felt very different, very difficult, and very good."
That is what I experince when I run and I thank G-d for it. Yesterday, running on the track, I ran hard. My mouth was dry as it was humid. Ifelt so alive. I wish i could bottle that experience.
I have to work out my shin problem, I just touch them and they hurt - I run one step and they "kill" like crazy. I used to run sometimes, and I loved jumping rope - many years ago, never consistently. Now I need to walk and bike more. There's what to say for exercise - it exorcises demons better than anything I know. It's like bad stuff goes out with the sweat.
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