Jerusalem Weeps

I left work at about 1 p.m or so today. I got home at about 4:30; about 2 1/2 hrs later than I should have been home.

The increased length of my trip was courtesy of those protesting the arrest of the Charedi parents who refused to return their children to the school of their non-choice. I hoofed it, from Bar Ilan back to the Tachne Merkazit (Central Bus station...go ahead, laugh at my transliteration skills).

Being as I home-school my children I am really can't say I'm against anyone else educating their child in the manner they think is best. I am even in favor of a voucher program. Parents get X amount of dollars for their children (based on age and special needs if any) and mom and dad get to decide where the money gets spent--as long as it gets spent on their children's education.

In terms of this argument, who is right, who is wrong? I think it is a bit of everyone being wrong; and I think what is happening is a big Chilul Hashem.

I find it difficult, near impossible to believe that grown people could not have worked this out in a more quiet,  dignified manner and loving manner.. Scratch that; I find it SAD, incredibly sad that grown people could not have worked this out in a more quiet, dignified and loving manner.

How is it that we think we can defeat our enemies if we can't even reach across the table to each other and, disagree though we may on a variety of issues, say "you are my friend...."

Beit Hillel and beit Shammai as vigorously and as vociferously as they fought about halachic issues, never-the-less, married their children to each other, exchanged pots and pans, in short, treated each other as family. Which they were.

Which we all are.

We all come from the same tree; Ashkenazim, Sephardim, Misnagdim, Charedim, Modern Orthodox, the non-religious...we are from one family. One People, One Nation, One G-d.

So it is okay to fight. It is not okay to make our "mother" weep. It is okay to think that skirts much reach a certain length or that television is okay. It is not okay to say "my kids can't play with your kids..." It is certainly not okay to demean someone because of their race, ethnic background, or level of frumkeit.

We have a duty to each other EVERY SINGLE DAY. We are suppose to "love our neighbor as ourselves..."

The Moshiach (Messiah) will have a hard enough job as it is, uniting the Jewish people, vanquishing (I believe spiritually) our enemies, rebuilding the Temple and restoring Israel to malchut. Must we really make it harder for him?

Another post on this same topic by a friend.

Why Do I Do The Things That I Do?

Why do I work at Yad Ezra V'Shulamit? I think sometimes we all need to ask ourselves why we have entered a specific job path. 

To understand why this path is right for me at this time I need you to play "Let's Pretend". 

Let's pretend you the mother of two  young children. You love your children with all your heart and soul and you work hard every day to try and provide for them. But it isn't enough; food, shelter, the basics are not even being met. The rent must come first, and then the food. Every night when you go to sleep you pray:

"Tomorrow G-d please...Tomorrow let me find a way to nourish my children, to keep hunger away. Tomorrow my children will not fall asleep in class because their bellies are empty. They will not make do on a slice of bread. They will have a warm and nourishing meal. They will come home and find a meal on the table. They will not be cold. Their shoes will fit them and they will not be falling apart.

Tomorrow G-d please, let my children have a normal life..."

When I know such stories exist, in varied forms, when I try and picture myself as that mother, well how can I NOT work for Yad Ezra V'Shulamit? How can I not want to help? To make things right for just one family or child?

To me the purpose of our lives is to leave the world a better place than we found it. For me, right now, that means working towards ending poverty in Israel... I know I can't do it alone, I know I am not doing it alone. When those of you who are out there respond to my pleas to help Yad Ezra V'Shulamits clients tears literally come to my eyes. I am so grateful...I can not express how my heart fills with joy.

Every child deserves a chance...Yad Ezra V'Shulamit helps children and families get that chance; and the real angels are the donors who give of themselves to those they will never see.

Thank you.

Life Learning

So I did my Shabbat assignment. My list of "teachers" those who taught me by both good and bad example, are too long to list them all. Such an exercise would require me to write, and write and write again as I remember and recall the different people in my life who have and are helping me along my path.

I am not going to mention at all those who taught me by poor behavior, showing me what NOT to emulate. Why  pull up the negative? I've learned and I'll move on.

Neither am I going to mention the "usual suspects", family and my Rabbis, because I'm constantly learning from them.

Instead I will mention three people, all women, one from my childhood, another from one I was an adult, but still in the past, and a third from today.

The first was a teacher in the Cincinnati Day School. She was a Quaker woman, with shoulder length, snow white hair. She was "old" to me then, but probably not more than 50 or so. I don't remember what grade I was in, I do not remember what she taught normally...I think she may have been a substitute...but I do remember the day she took us "claying".

Out back of the school, and odd shaped saucer building, down a hill through a copse of trees was a creek. This was normally "FORBIDDEN TERRITORY". We were not allowed past the trees let alone down the path.and into the creek, yet that is where this wonderful woman took us. An icy cold creek and the clay squishy firm beneath our hands. We pulled it out by chunks...I never knew there was such wondrous stuff there! I remember the stones beneath our feet, the cool green of the trees going up and down the path, the smell of mulch and mold of the leaves along the path. I remember the wonder of learning.

I hated school. I hated every minute of it. I was a "genius" who never made the grade. I found school boring, and annoying. I disliked having to sit and listen. I wanted something more.

This teacher taught me something more, much more than she ever knew. My senses were alive that day like they had never been in school. I was engaged, I was active, I was THERE...not lost in some mind world where only a shout and a reprimand could bring me back. I learned that life was out there for me! The world was a mystery to be solved, studied and worked with. Not taught but learned! inside my heart and my mind.
School was and will never be for me. But learning in joy is. I love to learn...from books and life. This was the woman's teaching.

The second was a mentally retarded woman...perhaps 18 or 19...very high end but definitely mentally retarded. I would see her nearly everyday as I walked my daughter to her bus stop; we would say hello, and smile and exchange some pleasantries. Not more than that.

One morning she passed by in an odd outfit. There was something in the outfit that told me "she is dressing up.." but I reserved comment because the outfit was "silly" and "strange." But she called me out... "don't you notice something different? I'm all dressed up!!! It is my birthday!" Immediately of course I stopped, congratulated her, complimented her on the outfit. "How silly of me not to have noticed..." but what I really felt was shame. Here this young woman was seeking something everyone seeks...to be considered. To be important...and I had blown a chance to give a gift because I judged her outfit on the basis of society and not through her eyes. As foolish as the dress may have been she was proud of her dress, and I had acted as a judge rather than a friend.

She taught me to see the other person from where they stand and to judge them from where they stand, and to try and see beauty based not on the outside view, but the inner, soul view.

The third teacher has just entered my life, less than a year ago. She is an extraordinary woman, smart, kind and loving. And she writes a terrific blog! But what I learned was from her latest article from the Breslev site.

It wasn't even the main part of her article, but it was something that struck me to the heart. It was these words.

When one repents, does teshuva, and becomes a ‘new person’, it is best not to talk about the past. Putting old and negative vibes into the atmosphere is not good for the universe and especially not conducive to purifying one’s soul. The worst thing we can do for ourselves is to remind the accusing angels of the sins we chalked up many years ago, giving them so much more ammunition to use against us in the Heavenly Courts, come Judgment Day.

You see, I have a tendency to do just that. I flail at myself for past sins which I have cried to heaven about, and done tseuvah for. In fact I was going through a bout of past recriminations at that time...going over and over in my head sins that I have done. Though others have discussed the futility and harm of this action with me in the past, it was her words that struck me to the core and made me realize how much harm was being done to myself, and how by these actions I was keeping myself from moving forward in life.

So I want to give thanks to the above for all their help.

There are so many more people who have helped me along the way, but these three stand out for me right now.

Who is Wise?

I'm reading a new book, Ethics From Sinai volume 2. I don't know where 1 and 3 are. Perhaps we never had them or they got lost in one of our moves.

But I started reading and became absorbed in the thoughts and decided this is the next step for myself. To go through the book, bit and try and apply it to my life.

The first chapter deals these four questions posed by Ben Zoma:

Who is wise? Who is strong? Who is rich? and Who is honorable?

The answer to the first question is the one I will occupy myself with this Shabbat:

Who is wise?- he who learns from every man, as it is said: From all my teachers have I acquired wisdom. (Tehillim 119:99)

Who have I learned from and what is it I have learned? Why have I learned that?  Could I have learned more? Learned differently? And also important, what have I learned from myself?

And this all answers the question of: Who am I now? Who might I become if I learn as I have been learning? Who might I be if I learn differently? And who do I WANT to become?

Who Ya Gonna Please?

Warning, for anyone who reads. This isn't going to be a well thought out post. It is going to be a rant. I'm not going to try and make things nice and pretty...ok?

I'm tired, I'm sick and tired of Israel being criticized all the time. No matter what went down with the flotilla Israel would have been screwed. The media was waiting, with baited breath, for something to happen, and they didn't care what, the people in Gaza don't really matter to them. The INhumanitarians on the ship sure as heck didn't care what happens to the people of Gaza... shipping out of date medicine and equipment. The leaders of Gaza don't give a you know what, what happens to their people. THEY ARE THE ONES WHO GOT THE GAZANS INTO THIS MESS. The only one's who really care are the Israelis (who send aid, and give care in their hospitals to the Gazan population.)

So who of course gets the blame when their soldiers are attacked? ISRAEL.

The only one who cares.

So for me the thing is to stop caring what the world thinks about us. No matter what we do we get blamed. And then we try and defend ourselves from the blame.

Lets stop. We should go on giving basic care to the Gazans, and we should go on defending ourselves against physical attack. But why do we need to please the world? If the like our actions TOUGH.

Who should we please?

G-d.

Fruity

There is a picture of me when I was about 6 or so, standing in a line with about 5 other children (one child being my cousin with whom my I was in some sort of vague competition with, not me, but between Aunt and Mom. Poor mom, I was always the sort of loser). Anyway...one sees in the picture 5 straight erect children, arms to the sides and smiles plastered on their faces, and one broadly smiling girl (um, me) bending over to adjust her sock.

See that was me, always (and why I was losing to the cuz above). He did great in school, I ...well despite my IQ school wasn't my forte. Neither was being organized, neat and well prepared. A scouting failure I rather tried my moms patience with my ideas about "keeping my room up" and other such organizational habits.

My desk looked like my room, and while personally clean, my clothes were not well coordinated. Long past the time my mom assured me when most girls were worrying about whether the blue of their socks went with the blue of their dress.

I'm still not a fashion maven. I still don't  really care. But the house you see...well there have been times when I've looked at the house and gone "maybe if we set fire to it and move elsewhere?" While I did not of course (Fire Marshals may back off! Rest assured I'm not a potential arsonist) it actually did seem to me that the best method of housekeeping available at the time.

Enter fly-lady..after several other tries. Seemed okay...and I tried it. Didn't like it, for a variety of reasons. One being her issue with shoes. So while it worked for a time, after awhile I just felt mad that I was being made to wear shoes to do something I couldn't stand to do and didn't derive much benefit from.

Hop skip jump to about a month or two ago.

Fed up once more with the state of the house, and having heard it through the Yishuv grapevine that there was a flylady group starting up...well I joined.

But with a bit more "she isn't in the house and isn't judging me anyway" attitude.

ie.  I houseclean in the buff...toes-wise that is.

And since it is with a group of other women, we can talk and encourage each other...figure out where our problems lie and help find solutions for our tough spots.

And I am finding the not uncommon problem of perfectionism ...

WAIT!!!! Didn't you say above (quickly scan) ...well where was the perfectionism in all that??? Nowhere I assure you...but it is in me, as I noticed as I was doing the fruit bowl.

Dang girl you are confusing!!! Fruit bowl???What Fruit bowl...can you make sense?

Okay..fruit bowl, as in occupier of the table in order to prevent other items from taking over the table. Doesn't work to perfection (hahahha) but it does help. 

But I realize as I am arranging and rearranging the fruit bowl how nuts I get about these incidental details....like trying to evenly distribute the various types of fruit (as if I were intent on making sure that no minority fruit was unequally represented in any area...) GAH!!! 

So with most of the fruit this wasn't too much of a problem. I arrange here and there and had a balance that I could tolerate if I could just force myself away.

But then came the bananas. Now bananas should be easy...draped dramatically in one bunch on the side of the bowl. Their home is easily found. But in placing them I accidentally pulled one banana off.

Ya know I was thinking of eating the durned thing so it wouldn't upset the fruit bowl balance? Take it to work or eat it then and there...Ya know I am not a big banana fan; don't hate it... but don't especially like it, and I wasn't hungry then at all. So there I am staring at this banana and actually upset that it would create a disharmonious fruit bowl presentation. 

Imperfection.

Foolishness. Because surrounding that less than perfect fruit bowl were bags and a purse and other odds and ends that actually did interfere with harmony and neatness.

Details getting in the way of the presentation. Not that details aren't important...but it is knowing when to focus on the details and what details really count that actually makes the difference. A skill that I am still working on.

Nu...I put the banana under the bunch, and then cleared off the other junk that crowded the fruit bowl on all sides and I'm still trying to ignore the nagging feeling that the banana is there improperly. If I get lucky someone will eat it soon. And if not, I still actually did what I needed to do.

One small step for me... but maybe small steps are really bigger sometimes than they first seem. (Yeah, one small step for man comes to mind...but really didn't know how to play that line out).

Puzzled

I like doing puzzles of all kinds and I'm always in the market for new and different puzzles. Sudoku, hitori, crosswords, cryptograms...and jigsaws. Work today involved finding information about a particular jigsaw program and while I was looking...after I finished my work...I stayed and played.

Weird thing is I have always found the "next to last" stage of putting together an online jigsaw puzzle the hardest. There always seems too many pieces for the board I'm playing. I manipulate a piece here and there, listening for that lovely "you got it right! click" only to hear nothing at all, and think; but where else can I put this piece???? There is no where else for it to go!!! And the thought always crosses my mind that I've been double-crossed; the puzzle makers have added pieces just to confound me! (Ok, I'm really not that ego-centric. I do realize the puzzle makers don't take a personal interest in me...)

But of course once I've placed a few more pieces of the puzzle in the "extras" turn out not to be "extra" at all. They were needed, they necessary, no matter how annoying they felt at the time. And in the end, there is the puzzle, completed, all mysteries solved.

But I'm not going to tell you how long it took me to do the zebra.