Mid-day sun chair toes
naked. Wind chime. Recess noise.
More sun. Breathe. Enjoy....
Monday, February 22, 2010
Friday, January 29, 2010
Eradicating Hatred with Nothing but Love and Hope....
Chills....First I Googled WBC and saw their schedule to protest at my kids' school today. With their messages of hate against "Jews" and "Gays"....Truly Revolting....But then I saw the weekly Torah Portion from school and it gave me chills to see hate transmuted into something lovely. So with thanks to the wonderful Roni, I re-print the following:
"If you were to walk into the JCHS lobby right now, the first thing you would notice is an oversized Fundraising Pledge Sheet hanging on the bulletin board with the heading "From Hate to Haiti." It is overflowing with the signatures of students, staff and parents pledging varying amounts of money - to be donated to the American Jewish World Services' Haitian Relief Services. When I think of this week's parsha, B'shalah, I smile at the image of Miriam, Aaron's prophetess sister, leading the women in song and dance. The Israelites have just survived a frantic chase by the Egyptians across the Sea of Reeds and are about to embark on a long, stressful journey. In the face of relentless persecution and an unknown future, it would be quite natural to react with anger or gloom. Instead, Miriam sings! She has the wisdom and courage to harness all of that anxious energy into a moment of goodwill. This week the JCHS community learned that a homophobic, Anti-Semitic group decided to picket outside our school to publicize their hateful messages. A group of thoughtful students chose to respond with a hugely successful fundraising campaign. On their own, these students have flipped a potentially negative experience into an occasion for generosity and joy. If Miriam were here, I have no doubt that she would break into song!"
"If you were to walk into the JCHS lobby right now, the first thing you would notice is an oversized Fundraising Pledge Sheet hanging on the bulletin board with the heading "From Hate to Haiti." It is overflowing with the signatures of students, staff and parents pledging varying amounts of money - to be donated to the American Jewish World Services' Haitian Relief Services. When I think of this week's parsha, B'shalah, I smile at the image of Miriam, Aaron's prophetess sister, leading the women in song and dance. The Israelites have just survived a frantic chase by the Egyptians across the Sea of Reeds and are about to embark on a long, stressful journey. In the face of relentless persecution and an unknown future, it would be quite natural to react with anger or gloom. Instead, Miriam sings! She has the wisdom and courage to harness all of that anxious energy into a moment of goodwill. This week the JCHS community learned that a homophobic, Anti-Semitic group decided to picket outside our school to publicize their hateful messages. A group of thoughtful students chose to respond with a hugely successful fundraising campaign. On their own, these students have flipped a potentially negative experience into an occasion for generosity and joy. If Miriam were here, I have no doubt that she would break into song!"
Wednesday, January 27, 2010
Enjoy the Sunshine Whenever it Comes....
I'm always amazed, this time of year, when the sun shines brightly after five p.m. Like magic, the daylight hours lengthen and we are brought out of darkness. Today especially caught my attention. After days and days of gray skies and torrential rains, suddenly this afternoon brought blue, sunny skies, stretched east to west.
I rushed to get a load of laundry out of the washing machine and onto the clothes line. Happy to save the planet (a little) and my wallet (a little less) by forgoing the dryer. I was so inspired that after hanging the clothes in the bright, chilly, air, I took my lunch outside. It felt good.
And now, as the sun is lighting up the topmost edges of the bay's fog and clouds on its way down for the night, it pleases me immensely to see my laundry hanging on the line. At first I look out and experience quick panic: oh no, what if it rains tomorrow, before the clothes are dry. But then I immediately remember that last month it did rain on the laundry, clinging to the line. And when the rain stopped, the clothes dried again, and they were fine.
After the rain storm, everything is fine....
I rushed to get a load of laundry out of the washing machine and onto the clothes line. Happy to save the planet (a little) and my wallet (a little less) by forgoing the dryer. I was so inspired that after hanging the clothes in the bright, chilly, air, I took my lunch outside. It felt good.
And now, as the sun is lighting up the topmost edges of the bay's fog and clouds on its way down for the night, it pleases me immensely to see my laundry hanging on the line. At first I look out and experience quick panic: oh no, what if it rains tomorrow, before the clothes are dry. But then I immediately remember that last month it did rain on the laundry, clinging to the line. And when the rain stopped, the clothes dried again, and they were fine.
After the rain storm, everything is fine....
Friday, January 1, 2010
On Cleaning out "Things" with the New Year....
At 2 in the morning I heard my 19 year old son rustling through the cabinets. At first I thought he was fixing himself a snack but when I tripped downstairs without my glasses, I found him kneeling beside the cupboard, wrangling with open bags of chips and cereal boxes. Trying to make order out of the chaos. We had a good visit, while he helped make room in the refrigerator by eating leftover turkey enchiladas and I cleaned out the microwave.
Things had gotten a little tense and I almost lost it when I found the two recipe boxes and a neatly organized box of garden information that he'd stacked at my place on the dining room table (my portable office as it were).
First of all, I told him, Don't mess with my shit. Second of all, yes, I wish I had time to clean out and organize all this stuff....And third, well...third of all, I'm sad to think I used to have time for this....Time to clip and organize and time to garden and cook and...and even a garden where things could grow....
For two days the boxes sat. But it is, after all, New Year's, which always presents a good time for cleaning and clearing....I opened one of the recipe boxes. I had to ignore little thoughts that I should trash the whole of it because "who needs recipes since all of this stuff is available on the internet?" But I didn't trash them and slowly I started going through the neatly labeled categories: "Seafood," "Various Holiday Fare," "Roasted Marinated Vegetables" (why this would need its own category I can't quite explain), "Desserts," etc. Thirteen labeled categories and five un-labeled miscellaneous categories in all.
With the box open, I found twelve year old clippings from the S.F. Chronicle. I had forgotten that way back when I had subscribed to that paper instead of reading my news online....One section, (it must have been "Fruits"), had lots of recipes for Meyer lemons and apples. Oh yes, I silently recalled, I used to have a yard with a nice, squat lemon tree that produced gorgeous, smooth-skinned lemons ten months out of the year. And a big apple tree. I came across emails from friends I haven't seen in years, sending recipes back and forth. Invitations to come for chili. Mentions of birthday parties of our children. A couple recipes were from "Faz" who used to have a Persian restaurant in the City. There were posts from Joyce Maynard, whose online discussion group I used to visit and whose pie baking events I used to attend, giving advice on the pie crust (cherries from our tree) I was going to bake for my husband's birthday. (I'm no longer married and that cherry tree died a couple years after we moved from that house....) The box also yielded cards written by my mother, my sister, and my stepmother, sharing their recipes -- as if that would make me a good and comfortable cook....
As I drink my coffee on New Year's morning, I smile while I make my way through the boxes. Good thing I didn't throw them away without even cracking the lids....In actuality, the treasures buried within cannot be found on the internet. And besides, just yesterday I fantasized about making oatmeal chocolate chip cookies....Maybe today, the first day of the new year, will be the day I finally use my stepmother's recipe....
Things had gotten a little tense and I almost lost it when I found the two recipe boxes and a neatly organized box of garden information that he'd stacked at my place on the dining room table (my portable office as it were).
First of all, I told him, Don't mess with my shit. Second of all, yes, I wish I had time to clean out and organize all this stuff....And third, well...third of all, I'm sad to think I used to have time for this....Time to clip and organize and time to garden and cook and...and even a garden where things could grow....
For two days the boxes sat. But it is, after all, New Year's, which always presents a good time for cleaning and clearing....I opened one of the recipe boxes. I had to ignore little thoughts that I should trash the whole of it because "who needs recipes since all of this stuff is available on the internet?" But I didn't trash them and slowly I started going through the neatly labeled categories: "Seafood," "Various Holiday Fare," "Roasted Marinated Vegetables" (why this would need its own category I can't quite explain), "Desserts," etc. Thirteen labeled categories and five un-labeled miscellaneous categories in all.
With the box open, I found twelve year old clippings from the S.F. Chronicle. I had forgotten that way back when I had subscribed to that paper instead of reading my news online....One section, (it must have been "Fruits"), had lots of recipes for Meyer lemons and apples. Oh yes, I silently recalled, I used to have a yard with a nice, squat lemon tree that produced gorgeous, smooth-skinned lemons ten months out of the year. And a big apple tree. I came across emails from friends I haven't seen in years, sending recipes back and forth. Invitations to come for chili. Mentions of birthday parties of our children. A couple recipes were from "Faz" who used to have a Persian restaurant in the City. There were posts from Joyce Maynard, whose online discussion group I used to visit and whose pie baking events I used to attend, giving advice on the pie crust (cherries from our tree) I was going to bake for my husband's birthday. (I'm no longer married and that cherry tree died a couple years after we moved from that house....) The box also yielded cards written by my mother, my sister, and my stepmother, sharing their recipes -- as if that would make me a good and comfortable cook....
As I drink my coffee on New Year's morning, I smile while I make my way through the boxes. Good thing I didn't throw them away without even cracking the lids....In actuality, the treasures buried within cannot be found on the internet. And besides, just yesterday I fantasized about making oatmeal chocolate chip cookies....Maybe today, the first day of the new year, will be the day I finally use my stepmother's recipe....
Friday, December 18, 2009
The Gift of Light....
Thursday, December 17, 2009
On Learning and Life and Time....

Oh my God! Bam! It hits me. Along with all the other crises I am facing, (some real, some exacerbated, some imagined, some too bleak to even accept are real), just now I realize that I'm distraught because there is still so much I want to learn and I am surely past the half-way point in my life and I can't delude myself into thinking that magically opportunities for study will appear....My time is taken up with trying to maintain the systems -- taking care of kids, paying rent, buying food, etc. --to have time for the luxury of systematic learning.
This morning, in my half-asleep/half-awake state, I had a clear vision that I should take a class in linguistics or communication. Lately I have been involved in many discussions about problems surrounding our little world, emanating out from Berkeley, and what seems to be at the very root of solving those problems is that large word -- and larger concept -- "communication." But I digress.
The point for me right at this moment is that I have to face the fact that there are multitudes of things I will not be able to study. I will run out of time, and energy, and functioning brain cells, (I'm already out of money), for such pursuits. This morning, before I had this epiphany -- that time is dwindling -- I told my kids about my dream/thought and joked that maybe I'd return to school for another degree...a masters in communication or linguistics....
This afternoon, as I'm working my way through pronunciation of my daily Hebrew word (delivered free of charge to my in-box), and I again face the fact that reading one Hebrew word a day is not going to make me fluent -- boom -- it hits me! There is a whole list of things I am going to have to give up on. Reality dictates that I will not be able to effectuate these goals before my life comes to a stop.
In a mild panic, I unconsciously begin a mental list: learn Hebrew, re-establish my near-fluency in Spanish, learn the difficult process of making dye transfer prints, write and publish the growing number of books I've started (which is a list, with sub-lists in itself), trek in Nepal, take classes in a (huge) variety of topics, start a foundation that gives sabbaticals to mothers, grow crops in my tiny concrete yard, work on Jewish/Muslim relations, make documentary movies (another list...)....And this is only the beginning.
I think of people I know who are satisfied to live their lives along their already established paths. Who have no curiosity or desire to learn anything new. My innate sense, I must in candor admit, is disdain but maybe instead I should be envious....Living like that would make things easier....Maybe part of growing older and more mature is accepting these facts....
Tuesday, November 24, 2009
Passing....

Time. Or more precisely, the passing of time. It seems to be a topic I write about frequently, (either blatantly or in more subtle forms)....This morning I can think of nothing I want to write about more than the death of a woman I never met...a woman I always thought I would meet, planned to meet in the future....
My aunt lives on the East Coast; I am in the West. Actually, she is my aunt by former marriage. When I divorced, we kept up our relationship. Even deepened it. She told me that she described our relationship to her friends as, "When they divorced, we took custody of Karen." I like that. My aunt is one of my favorite people on Earth. She is smart, straightforward, funny, kind, stylish, wise. Definitely someone you want to know; an excellent role model. Her best friend, I always imagined, must be like her. They'd been friends many years, I think from when they were pregnant or when their kids were young. It had been a long time....
Like my aunt, her best friend lived on the East Coast. Our visits never coincided but we always asked about each other. A couple months ago when I visited my aunt and uncle with my new "Prime Mate," whom they hadn't yet met, my aunt's friend called the first night to make sure he was a-okay. And I frequently asked my aunt about her friend. I recall when her husband passed away. I recall when she started dating. We traded lots of news...but we never met....I always meant to plan a trip so we could finally meet, but somehow I just never made it happen.
My aunt's friend took ill. Seriously, rapidly ill and the last couple of weeks brought steady decline. When I'd heard that her condition was bad, it hit me hard. I felt for her, for her three grown children. For my aunt, and my uncle, and their son. At first I thought their pain was the only reason I was sad. And then it dawned on me -- I felt that awful cloud which so often shadows our lives...the procrastination which hangs over us, until taking action is no long an option. Until it is too late to do the thing we had wanted to do.
Maybe this morning's email -- one phrase confirming a life is gone, confirming opportunities no longer viable -- will serve to remind me to do now what is meaningful....
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)



