GNAGB - 2017 Edition

It's a long time since I started writing here, keeping a "blog," and now I write less, but I'm not done here.  Less people read than once, and commenting happens so rarely it's almost like it doesn't happen.

I recently was chatting with someone who gets down sometimes about his life.  he said something about where he was 12 years ago, and then someone else chimed in, and then he asked me.  I said I was doing all the same things, living in the same place, working in the same place, status the same. He questioned that but didn't pursue it, went back to himself.  We all want things that others have and have things others want.  May we all be blessed with contentment balanced with drive, and gratefulness, and kindness woven through it all. 

It's late at night, later than the time here will say because I want it to say Saturday night (Motzai Shabbos Kodesh) even if it's technically Sunday morning.  Of course there are changes in my life - but certain changes not others.  I have no child who's older to refer to, no car changes (no car) no house changes (no house), no spouse, still.  If nothing else, shouldn't I be talking about re-doing a kitchen by now.  (Is it me or does it mean something other than re-doing a kitchen when a kitchen ggets redone?)

Dating has happened, - but I don't talk about that here (here?) (don't?). Friendships have been  tweaked. and have morphed  I've written new things.  I've read new things.  I've learned new Jewish texts. I've gone through changes in how I teach and what I teach and what else I do at work besides teaching Jewish studies (public speaking, poetry, improv, lots of guidance).

I have worked on my health , various aspects of it, nefesh and guf, in various ways.  I've exercised more and less and more...  In the last year and a half I have been more consistent than ever before with exercise and with eating and weight.  I've seen doctors I needed to see and done some of what I've needed though it feels regarding health that it's a mountains beyond mountains kind of thing. 

I've been there for people and people have been there for me.  And the reverse of that is sadly true too.  I've become part of a temporary community of unmarried (never and divorced and widowed and older and younger and sad and more sad and less sad, so many shades) frum people who spend Yom Tov together twice a year - for the past 8 years.

I've been keeping a graph for the last many years of my weight, week to week. It's down about 20 pounds from a year and a half ago.  It's plateaued and I've stopped being as careful with my food.  I need to truly avoid carbs and eat lots of veggies and protein becaue for me  it works.  Someone I know had the surgery recently, on the stomach.  He/she tells most people he/she just watches carbs.  I don't want to do that.  He/she's one of 3 people who have told they've done it. 

People tell me stuff.  I got my license for social work renewed, but it's already time to renew it again.  I think about being a therapist. 

I've published one book.  I don't know why I didn't get it on Amazon. I have more books to publish. I've made some art.

I've said yes. I've said no.

I bought a new bed for the first time in over twenty years, and it was a hard experience.  I bought a different kippa for the first time in many years, bought 5 of them, and then decided I may not be comfortable with it. 

I went to Israel several times. 

I spent a lot of time with my dad, sleeping on his couch in his house, then on his floor in assisted living, them on the bed he had them move in for me.  Shabbos regularly there for what might have been many years, turned out to  - suddenly - end at two and a half.  I spoke at the meals there, spoke to the people, told jokes, listened. 

I experienced the death of dad, seven years after the death of mom.  I lost my parents. 

I've done some financial things I needed to do. 

I've taken care of myself better than I might have, and not as well as I might have.  I've excelled at somethings and fallen short at others. 

Things may look the same but there is movement, there is living and not just existing.  I've gotten better at going to bed -sometimes, but not tonight.  Tonight I'm here with the energy stored from sleeping on Shabbos, maybe too much. 

Signing out and sending blessing to you (the you who once told me that my writing you is powerful, and to all of you). 

"The time has come to say good night,
My how time does fly.
We've had a laugh, perhaps a tear,
and now we hear good-bye.

I really hate to say good night,
for times like these are few.
I wish you love and happiness,
In everything you do.

The time has come to say good night,
I hope I've made a friend.
And so we'll say May God bless you,
Until we meet again."

- Red Slelton