the impregnable call of the shofar

Dear little ones,


There are some experiences that may be indescribable. Or, at least, incredibly difficult to articulate. This letter has been difficult to write because it is hard to put into words and yet, I find I must. As I have told you in recent letters, I found myself this summer in a way I had given up hope for. It almost seems a stereotype that it was on a women's-journey-trip to and around Israel. But no matter. The nature of a spiritual experience is such that when it happens it ceases to matter if it sounds stereotypical, trite, corny. By its merit, it does not matter.


So I want to relay to you, so that you do not miss any vital experiences out of your own life, how this came about. You may find there is a place deep down where you have an inkling to make a left turn, or to stop and wait, or to take a breather, or to say yes....I want you to know that I found this trip on the internet. That I kept searching for a trip that I may go on with my family and the search engine kept bringing me back to this women's trip. And so I filled out the application. Then, they asked to meet me, and I said yes. They asked how I felt about who I was, what I was doing and they asked about you. And I told them the truth. They asked if I would take a journey with them and leave my most precious darlings behind with my beloved husband and I said (after talking it over with your father) okay, I would do that.


So my first message is showing up can mean and be everything, as it turns out. (And listen to your inner voice.)
Even if what you show up for was not what you intended or thought you wanted.


Now that is how I ended up standing in the Old City, looking up at the Western Wall. I mean to say, that is how I physically was actually there. (Well that and the gifts of time and money and organization that actually put that trip together, but that is for a different topic, and I digress.)


So I am physically there but what I could not plan, what was to become a part of me, was mostly because of everything that I thought was wrong. Wrong with me. Wrong about me. Difficulties, insecurities, fears... I had questions in my heart I did not know were there. I was too afraid to give them expression let alone words. So much seemed wrong before then. My answer to this was to just keep going. Keep busy. Don't reflect about some things. But that is all okay now and I will tell you why.


That is my next message for you. My most ironic and humorous experience. Pain and suffering, they can be just fine. They may be more than fine. The insecurities, the angst. If they had not been there, I would not have had any questions in my heart. I would not have been seeking. I would not have been there as I was. I had to be who I was in that moment to experience that moment. It is funny to me now because of the amount of worry and time spent pretending...having worries about my worries. I mean it can be exhausting. But if not for all that, the vessel I brought to the Old City may have been too full to receive a gift. I needed to feel a bit spent, a bit empty. I can see that now. And more than that, I can see it is okay to be imperfect and sometimes the more flawed the better.


So there I am. My siddur in hand. My ability to read Hebrew, poor. My self judgment, loud. The weather, 20 degrees past hot. I brought some prayers for others and offered them to the wall. I read the prayer in the book. I read some prayers I had written down for our family. Then, on an impulse, and because I saw someone else do it (thousands of things I have done in my life because I saw someone who looked happier do something....).... I put my head against the wall. Just like that.


There was no heat. I had no outfit to adjust. I had no comparisons to make. I had no thoughts to think.
It all just stopped. I did not have to hurry and I did not have to stay.


As I backed away from the wall, I had this sense of being right sized in the world, in the right moment, at the appointed time. And not that the world stopped for me but that there was a part of me there that realized this Truth was always available. And this Truth is still here, with me now. No matter what has happened since I have returned home, personally or in the world, this Connection is still Here. This sense of the truth of my heart, that "You are a shelter for me,  You guard me (from trouble); (and) with songs of deliverance You encompass me forever."


For the first time in my life I was completely at home, right where I was supposed to be, who I was supposed to be. And it has not left me. Sure, I feel bad, sad, angry, up and down. But there is a bookmark in this place in my soul that is not shaken. Not lost.


I have marveled at this new sense of Protection and Love. Then the sound of the shofar called it back to me. Back up to the surface of being. Back into the infinite now. I was already Blessed and Loved. But now, even now, I live in Blessing and Love. And for me, there has been a difference.


So show up. Follow that deep down voice. Embrace the awkward moments and the sense of otherness and even the mistakes and insecurities. They may come in so handy one day. Have your eyes wide open my darling girls. For you are Loved beyond Measure. Beyond Description. I have witnessed it in myself. There is Great Love always around you and surrounding you. Seen or unseen. Felt or unfelt. I hope that the sound of the Shofar will touch your souls and your hearts as it even now touches mine.


And no matter what choices you make and roads you go down, may you Know you are Surrounded by Great Love.


Yours, with all my heart,
Mama

Foundations

My darlings,

So this story begins before I went to Israel. Going back a few years. Okay...more than a few years. When very young I was quite sensitive to the notion that in order to be happy in this life one should be beautiful. I looked at the world around me and decided the more beautiful you are, the easier life must and would be. At a very early age, I remember thinking that maybe I was. But then life started to seem harder for me. School was hard. Getting my work done was hard. Having friends seemed more difficult than it should. I was not sure what was happening to me. For one reason or another I decided I knew what was wrong. I was not pretty... or worse. For one thing, I was too skinny and for some reason people not only seemed convinced I was skinny on purpose but my being skinny was truly offensive to people. It actually seemed to cause some people to go out of their way to be mean to me. I would come home from high school and eat peanut better and honey sandwiches with a side of white rice but I could never put on a pound.

Then, as often happens in life, I did not realize I had something to be thankful for until it was gone. Right around the end of high school I was struck with a terrible and recurrent case of acne. From 17 until about 28 I had that terrible acne that when you see someone on the street with it, you feel bad for them before you look away. Or at least, that is what I imagined people were thinking. Even after a cure from a wonderful dermatologist all I could see was that I had scars everywhere. Since then I have been cautious with the angle of photographs, purchased products to deflect light, paid for laser treatments, fillers...and much more to "fix" myself. I will say I did also yearn to be more grateful, to accept myself as I was, as I am. To be honest, as much as I have tried to amend my appearance, I have tried to be happy with myself as I was. As I am. I really did try.

So fast forward, and I am about to go to Israel. I prepared carefully for the trip. You see at each pre-trip meeting I saw these other women I would be traveling with. They were naturally beautiful. Some were the more tailored, put-together types that I wanted to look like. Some seemed to be more the laid back, come as you are types that my heart longed to be like. But somewhere - deep down, from a place that I could not reason with, admit was there but still listened to - I thought - I could never be put together nor could I be casual. If I tried to be all put together and step out like I tried, I would only see how I didn't do it right, it looked phony or sloppy and so I would spend all this time and either never look at myself in the mirror the rest of the day or take it all off. And if I tried to be casual I would accost myself trying to cover imperfections while looking like I had not tried. Exhausting. Expensive. Time consuming. And my darling girls none of that addressed or helped my broken heart. I think makeup was probably meant to be fun or an accessory...but for me it felt like a need and a chore. Like taxes or board re-certification.

So I arrive in Israel. I carefully unpack my things - you know how I do. And on the first morning I go to my foundation, and pump the container and...it is nearly empty. I panic inside. All that preparation and I am going to run out of foundation. Take my lipstick, mascara...even my under eye concealer...but without foundation... all those scars! So I did what I am used to doing, unconsciously, and I just don't look in the mirror for few days. I mean I know how to look without looking. Without seeing.

By the time of the morning of the 3rd day of our Israel trip we had already been to some truly meaningful places. I had already been to Tiberias, resting place of Rabbi Akiva, whose journey into learning has been such an inspiration to me. We dined as a group while overlooking the Kinneret. I had been to Tsfat, learned of the great battles there, sat in some holy places.
On the morning the 3rd day of our trip we were going to listen to a speaker named Adrienne talk about self esteem and the media or some such thing. Whatever it was my roommate was really looking forward to hearing her. I put on my carefully planned outfit and the necklace I picked up for myself at a market on the first day. And then I did something I had not done in a few days. I looked at my face. Then I thought to myself, "there must be some beauty secret in the water here. I must be getting a tan or something with all this walking around we are doing. I have run out of foundation and I look okay. I even look pretty good." And I put on lipstick for fun and went out the door.

I sat down with my group and I listened to our speaker's story. And it was my story too. Not exactly the same, of course, but in essence. I heard about having a self-message that kept us down. About painful beliefs. About knowing the feeling of "ugly". And I realized and admitted the way I was really thinking about myself. Even as a grown woman - I still had a cruel voice inside that was doing me harm. And I realized and admitted that what I really wanted and craved in this world cannot be touched by how I look or what anyone else thinks about how I look. That my heart's truest wishes for life and love do not have to be held in bondage by a false sense of myself. By lies.

And then It happened. I thought back to the morning and laughed through tears about how I had looked and supposed it was Israeli magic or the sun or something that made me look better. I realized the truth - I had the same face in that mirror that morning that I had brought with me to Israel. The same face that my daughters, you two dears, look at everyday. The same face my husband (Daddy) sees all the time. My face was not being transformed. My vision was being transformed. I was just seeing myself, really, for the first time in a long long time. And there was and is nothing wrong with my face. Just my perception.

And I was sitting there, surrounded by my sisters-on-the-trip and I was (and am) one of the us. No longer am I separated from them in my mind. We are a sisterhood, bound by some incredible experiences. And I thank G-d my perception changed so I could see myself and my place with them. I mean with us.

So what is my hope for you, my darlings? Of course I hope you see how gorgeous you are while also living your life knowing that looks will fade or diminish but your spirit never has to. But more than that, I hope you always know you are part of your friends - the ones you have now and the ones you have not met yet. May you be surrounded by dear friends that lift you up and support you. May you have a soul mate who esteems you and honors you. And that you know deep down that you are never alone. May you both grow to honor yourselves rather than keep yourselves down and apart.

For you both will always be loved. By G-d, by your family and always by me.

With all my heart, I am yours,

Mama

P.S. Courtesy of Adrienne, here is a song about freedom https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=GXoZLPSw8U8

Eretz Israel

Dear anyone who has ever felt like a phony or alone in this world,

and of course, to my darling children,

Where to begin.... First, my darlings, my hope is that you both seek and find your place in this world as you grow from little children to young ladies. This seems to be the natural course of things. Although for me I physically grew without much internal development for some time. This has been my path and I am not ashamed to admit it. It is just not what I hope for you because life was uncertain and anxiety provoking for so long. This is not what I want for you, or anyone for that matter.

My dream for you both is that even when you are not sure of the way, you know you are always supported and loved. This I think, was my most costly mistake in life. This is what robbed me of many opportunities for joy and happiness. That my only certainty in life was that I was alone.

I would add here that G-d willing the road ahead of you both is not too rocky but not completely without difficulty. What a strange thing to hope for - you may be wondering at that. Well I hope you understand, as I now do, that it should not be too easy or there will be no growth. My path to finding my home in this world was stunted and delayed by my attempts at shortcuts. My journey through this world often seemed to me to be unfair and always seemed disjointed. As if, sadly enough, there really was no point to this life.

So what does this have to do with Israel?  As it turns out, and not to be too dramatic about it, my journey through and around Eretz Israel, has lead me to home. I mean a real Home. I do not mean, that I went and now must make aliyah. No, I mean I am at home - here, in my skin. Here, in my room where I am writing this to you. Really writing this for anyone that needs to know. And for myself, so that I am may remember. Although I cannot imagine ever forgetting.

People say, "how was your trip?" "It was incredible", I say wistfully. "I rode on a camel". As if that explains anything or everything. But what I know, what I have felt and seen, is hard to describe and of course is not for casual conversation.

In essence, what has happened is I now can see, Thank G-d, that each trial has had a purpose, each teardrop was a byproduct of the hollowing out needed to make a place for the fullness now in my heart. Each fear and anxiety was a question I had that needed to be answered. If those broken pieces inside of me had not been there, I would not be me. And being me today is actually quite amazing.
(That is a sentence, I can assure you with all sincerity that I never would have written about myself before last week. It is with great Joy that I write it now.)

Not that I am some ungrateful brat who cried in her soup and was not thankful for a full and rich life. I mean here I am, in a nation and a time in history where I have rights and freedoms denied to so many others let alone to a Jewish woman. I have worked very hard to see the world with eyes of optimism. To see the bright side of things and people. The difference is today I do not have to toil or strive. It is just there, in my very full heart. Hope.

So I will attempt, in the next series of letters, to post here an account of what has transpired. I do this with the  humility that comes from only having mere words to try to illustrate the indescribable. How does one describe matters of the spirit with words. (sigh). I also am cognizant that not everything is suitable for sharing with the world or even with you two dears.

In fact, I came home knowing I must write. So there will be more to follow. One letter at a time.

If for some reason something happens and it is not meant to be - I mean to say if I had to just relay one message, one overarching experience to speak for all that has happened in me... it would be this.

Before I left, in fact the night I packed for the trip, I was certain as I could be that I should not go. The 24 hours before I left I was in a dark spot. Full of anxiety about leaving you both, among other things. This was coupled with insecurities that I had just come to live with for so long I could no longer distinguish them from my sense of myself. Unpleasant messages about myself to myself. Beliefs about myself that ran deep. I thought they were me, the real me. The part that you do not talk about in normal circles.  Those things that cannot be erased no matter how much money I could have, no matter how much I could spend, no matter how many hugs I could get from friends, no matter how many people paid me a compliment, no matter how hard I worked or how much I achieved. No matter if a wonderful man I loved committed to me in marriage. No matter if I was Blessed with children who loved me. I was certain that I was a pretend person, living a borrowed life. And I did not realize it so much as just felt an unpleasant sense of not belonging in my own life since I can remember.

Those beliefs about myself caused me great pain. It really does not matter what they are, at lease not for this letter. Anyone who has been afraid or felt alone can just fill in their own self defeating messages. So what happened in Israel? A series of events occurred that peeled away those beliefs one by one. I had been chipping away at myself for so long, it was just second nature. I experienced a series of experiences while in Israel that answered those insecurities that I thought I deserved, that I did not even realize were questions. I found myself, my real self.

It was Israel for me. It may be something else for someone else. For me, it had to be Israel. It had to be the women I was with - so many of then were part of that journey. It had to be everything that happened prior and everything that happened there. And after all that, I know it is just a new beginning. That growth has to proceed outward. But also that to be made real and true, it must be shared.

And so here we are my darlings. More to come,
Yours, always,
Mama

the gift

So this was not a letter to you children, but a talk I gave at shul.

And no, I will not reveal the child discussed below. In any case think of the example of a composite case study.

What is in a Gift?

When the Jews were freed from Egypt we are taught this is preparation for a Big Gift. Shavuot honors the celebration of this great gift, the gift of Torah, the Revelation at Mt Sinai. As it is said, “Let my people go that they may worship me” (Exodus 7:16). We have just begun to celebrate our freedom and 7 weeks later we are given, the very heart of our traditions and essence of our lives as the Jewish people.

Is it important that we are Given a gift, rather than being told we received the Gift?

To step back, let us think of who the recipients are and the place they were in. Not physically – of course they are at Har Sinai. But who are they, where are they in their lives? These are people that are willing to stand ready, “All that Hashem has spoken of, we will do!” And yet soon after, some of those that are to be honored with this great gift are the same that gild a golden calf. There are those who demonstrate the wavering of faith. Or maybe worse yet, sow doubt in others. These actions pave the way for recurrent doubt while wandering the desert. As the conservative Rabbi, Irwin Kula, once said, “it was easier to take the people out of Egypt than take Egypt out of the people.” But there is another side to these recipients. These are people that lived under horrible laws; laws that were meant to crush, oppress and control. The laws of Paroh to his slaves. This was not a law that was given but one that is forced. These were laws that robbed them of their dignity, let alone their free will.

So back to Har Sinai. Here are the recipients. They are faulty and they have been faulted. People who will prove - having the gift of free will - that ours will be a story of sin and consequence, again and again. So this brings back the question:  what if it was not a gift of Torah but the reception of Torah? What if it was imposed and infiltrated into our souls, rather than presented and given?  Would this not change the entire nature of the gift?

Honestly one probably cannot say what might have been if it had been another way. It was not that way and here we are. But think of all of that has flowed from the gift that was given. At Har Sinai we are given the essence and the base of the Torah. And from there we have revelation after revelation. Talmud, Midrashim, Mysticism, Philosophy. Incredible and thoughtful explorations of what we have been given and who were are and who we can become. Of course some of it is confusing, some of it paradoxical. But to think of all the holy encounters, writings and experiences that have come to be because of the great gift and the faulty recipients with the free will.  If the encounter had been any other way, could it have been as fruitful?

I once had a child of mine throw a tantrum on the day I had prepared gifts and surprises. Not a little stomping of the feet but a full on, category 5 hurricane of emotion and power hungry madness. A complete spasm of psyche grasping for control and ego development in one fell swoop. Now what? Do I correct the behavior by imposing a punishment? Do I withhold the neatly wrapped packages I had hidden in the house for months? Do I return the presents or turn around and give them away to a more grateful child? Do I cancel the birthday party?

Well I certainly could not seem to reward such behavior. But nor could I deny a child their right to errors in judgement any more than I could cancel their party. But somewhere in the middle ground I can hope to help a child grow into a strong, yet respectful; gracious yet fierce, happy yet generous person. If I forced perfect reception in this headstrong child, would any lesson be learned? Unlikely. If the encounter had been any other way, I would not have the story to share now. Would it have been as fruitful?

Now there is a portrayal in the Talmud by Rav Avdimi of Haifa, describing that G-d held Har Sinai over the heads of the people and threatened a grave site if they do not freely accept the gift of Torah. So where is that middle ground? There is the Midrash that relates that G-d is ready to give the gift of Torah, once appropriate guarantors have been offered. After the patriarchs and prophets are offered as guarantors and are both rejected, The people say, “Behold, our children are our guarantors.” And it is said, “They are certainly good guarantors. For their sake I give the Torah to you.” And so it is. And so they are. 

6 year old Rebekah

My Darling Rebekah,

What a year it has been. So much is changing in the world around you. I am grateful that you do not watch any debates, see the multiple acts of terror and violence and that you have no idea who Richard Spencer is.


Sometimes I write these philosophical blog entries, pontificating about the universe around us and how we fit. But this time I thought I would bookmark where you are in your life. What you are up to. I mean it all passes, day by day and it will be nice to look back.


So back to you. You continue to be so kind and gentle. You often remind me to slow down, pause and notice the world around me. You remind me that it is the journey, not the hurry to get there first. You have your moments. Headstrong, to say the least. But you are typically open to negotiations. We always seem to figure it out.


We welcomed Goldie into our lives this month and you were surprising a little rough on her at first. In your defense she did try to eat some of your favorite stuffed animals.


I have enjoyed how much you continue to surprise me. One day, you just start reading out loud. It was something you were working on with Papa Sol and you just did it. Green Eggs and Ham.  A hobby of yours right now is art. You really enjoy your classes with Morah Rosa as Marcella does. A big surprise this last week was to find out you could not see very well. You are not much of a complainer about physical ailments - I had no idea. I mean you still will give me a hug just to be nice for me to find out you are running a fever of 101. Anyway, we took you for your routine physical exam and when they asked you to look at the chart with the right eye covered you moved your right eye over the left eye spot. Hilarious. Now you have glasses.


You are a thoughtful friend. One of your dear friends broke her leg on a field trip and you knew exactly what her favorite things were and you could not wait to go pay her a sick visit.  


You and Marcella actually get on well and play nicely, most of the time. You both are certainly better than Uncle Bill and I were or the stories I have heard of your father and Uncle Joe.


Recently, some people around me have moved on out of this world. And others seem to be on their way. Some other things have happened, terrible things, to children as young as you. It has been in the news. And I am reminded to hug you one extra time, as you seem to just want to do naturally. And I even remember to stop doing everything so we can color or make play dough pastries or play with Barbies. I love you my sweet girl. You are truly precious to me. Happy Birthday.


I love you my dear,


Mama

and you will Know Peace

Marcella,

My heart is filled with love and wonder at the light and beauty you bring to the world. You could say, "a mother must say these things", and while that may be so, you are a force, a vessel of love and light. Your soul, your thirst for knowledge and understanding, your creativity... these attributes I have watched grow and develop are such a blessing to me and all who are close to you.

I know, you have had one of the most challenging and sometimes difficult years, especially the last several months. Just as your love and light can brighten an entire room, your fear and anxiety are impressively strong forces as well.

My heart has broken several times this year as you have had moments when I have been unable to reason, hug or Love away your capacity to spiral inward. Yet we have forged ahead. Your father and I have been challenged and together, with you, with the help of those around us - teachers, counselors, friends, clergy - we have met this beast head on. Together we can and are bringing light to that darkness.

I have questioned myself, this year, taken stock of how we conduct ourselves, how I comport myself. Sometimes, I do not know what to do or if we are on the right path. We have had to change course here and there.  No matter what life brings, we invariably find there are so many people in our lives that help, advise, pitch in, offer experience. From little esteem builders: allowing you to participate in painting sets for a stage play (including putting your name in the program) to the more direct assistance: our beloved Mrs. Fran inviting us back into the fold for weekly meetings with you. What I am saying to you is no matter what comes, and dark times are a part of what makes the light times shine so bright, we are Loved beyond measure. This part of the path is clear. We are offered the right assistance, without fail, at the right time. Sometimes, in the thick of it, it does not seem like it will be alright. And, frankly, sometimes it just is not alright. Sometimes you are not okay. Sometimes your father, sister and I are not either. But we are a team, we are here for each other.

You may not believe this but there was a time, not so long ago, when the expectation was if someone was not okay, they should keep it to themselves and quietly trudge ahead. The fact that we can have the conversations we have with each other and with our friends and supporters, never ceases to be miraculous to me. There are so many people that have helped and brought hope and Love into our lives, it is astounding to me.

And another thing, this aspect of you, while powerful, is not, thank G-d, all encompassing. You have become more creative, more articulate, more loving. You are an amazing, gorgeous and delightful person. I am so thankful to have your presence in my life. You continue to have so much to bring and teach me. I just love you to pieces. What an amazing journey and adventure we are on. As the Blessings of our life continue to unfold, I hope our own bond continues to build. May you always know, deep down, where You are, where it is neither dark nor light but just Is, that I am by your side as long as you need me.

Yours, always,
mama.

Hopeful with a Jaundiced Eye... Or How to Live in Love Anywhere, Anytime

My Darlings. 

I have written to you on some dark days. Hopefully this will not, in the end, prove to be one of them. Hopefully this will just be a punchline in American history one day. Or maybe something of benefit will come to us from this day. My fear, however, and the fear of others, is that this may be the day we had to start looking at our feet and being careful what we say and whom we say it to. Yet for you, my darling young ladies, I write and speak as I am accustomed to. 

Now there will be some who will think this reaction to yesterday's election is dramatic or maybe even ridiculous. What I want to record for you on this day is that many people, including myself, are in a state of surprise and experiencing a period of mourning. Not everyone. Just under half of the people in America. Hilary Clinton was going to be the first woman president yesterday, but now she is not. Many people chose her and a few more that that chose the other. 

Now I am sure there are people that I know who did vote for Mr. Trump and perhaps they have an idea of what kind of person would vote for Hilary and why. Due to the nature of this campaign and some of the rhetoric of Mr. Trumps followers... well let us just say they probably do not think very highly of me. Well, I cannot speak for anyone but my own self in this world. One day, you will decide for yourselves and see the world with your own eyes and through your own experiences as well. G-d willing you will be permitted to share your thoughts and ideas freely and without repression. 

I am someone, as fortune would have it, who has to pay quite a bit in taxes. I do so with pride and a sense of duty. I am grateful to live in a place of fine public services - schools, libraries, paved roads and public health for our elderly and our poor. It is not perfect but it is really something. I believe we should do more. Our planet is dying because of corporate and individual selfishness and greed. We must do more for the environment and now. And I believe in a woman's right to choose pregnancy. I believe our gun laws are not strong enough and those that are there need to be more effectively enforced.

 What I think of as commons sense (so-called liberal ideas) grows from the very experience of my family. My great grandmother, Ella, for whom one of you was partly named, lived in a time of desperation - she had no right to choose to terminate a pregnancy and had the misfortune of unreliable husband. She could not feed another mouth. She ended up dying after approximately a year of suffering from infection and illness from an illegal and dangerous abortion. Years later, her eldest son, my grandfather, a veteran of 3 wars for this country was killed along with his wife and youngest child - they were the victims of incomprehensible gun violence and I never had a chance to meet them. So yes, you can call me a bleeding heart liberal if you want, I don't really care. I see the world as a place I am responsible to speak out for a woman's right to have safe medical care and for all of us to be safe from death by gun violence in our own homes.

In addition to this, the new president embraced a platform during his campaign that encouraged hatred, allowed racism and was full of lies down to the last night when he claimed a celebrity had voted for him that had not cast his ballot yet. Nor do I forget he is the same man who feels he has the right to grab a woman's genitalia when he feels the urge to do so. (I cannot think of anything more opposite to electing a woman president). Not to mention I have paid a thousand percent more in taxes than he may ever. Your welcome for the roads Mr. President.

So how do I see life evolving over the next 4 years? All of those progressive measures, issues I care about deeply, may be reversed. If Mr. Trump does as he promised, he will reverse these measures. How do I live in peace today and reconcile the election yesterday and the potentially dangerous times ahead? Do I live in fear for your future? Not exactly.

Two things: First, I truly and deeply believe that there is a loving G-d, who loves all of us. The most amazing components of Love are it cannot be chained, does not know a glass ceiling and can be given freely. It lives in us and through us. It is not a feeling it is a fact and a gift. My darlings, even if someone lets you down, love can be your light in dark times. On this note I wish to impart to you to keep your eyes out on the world around you to see what you may bring to it but that change, service, integrity and Love start within. The world around you does not have to dictate how much or how little love you give to the world. This love may grow out from your corner of the world and beyond. Every loving kindness has the possibility of multiplying beyond your sight. Be kind, be Loving. Be a vessel of G-d's infinite kindness and a demonstration of his Love. A rabbi once remarked that while the 2nd temple was destroyed by groundless hatred, perhaps the 3rd temple will grow out of groundless Love. Something to think about.

With a loving eye I see that, with the exception of a few fanatics - (there will always be sociopaths - those that cannot know Love) - most of the other half of America are regular people. They just want to do the right thing for their corner of the world and that which they see beyond them. And they think Mr. Trump is the path to the changes they believe will be best. I do not think the average person wants to round up everyone in the North East that voted for Hilary and ship us to the other side of the Mexican wall they mean to build. But we have to be careful here - history teaches us that bad things have happened when even a slight majority have favored a language of hate. 

This brings me to the second thing, and this is important.  While I will say that I will not give up hope I am not a fool. Our new president ran a campaign of hate-mongering, whatever he says now. And he has vowed to reverse and tear down institutions that I believe in and that I believe make us great. He shows no signs of doing anything I would personally believe would be good for our country or our world in regards to health care, gun laws or the environment. More concerning is the rise in the world tide of racism and the fact that he had embraced that. The Turkish government is rounding up opposition leaders and carting them off to jail. Russians have to watch what they say and to whom they say it. While in America where we have a president and not a tyrant, we have been free to oppose, to argue, to banter. We must continue to be the change that we want to see. At least half of America (or just under it) will have our backs and I think most of the others will too. We need to speak up, speak out and protect each other. And there is my hope. We Americans just want what is best and have all kinds of different ways of seeing the path to get there.

But we cannot be fools about it - I heard a woman at work say last night, "What harm can one person do? I mean, one person cannot bring us all to ruin." How many have said that throughout time? How many in the early 1930's in Berlin said the same? How much harm can one man do after winning a election with a marginal majority? Indeed. 

So what I would say to you both is that we keep speaking, we keep writing, we keep loving each other, even loving those we do not agree with. We approach the world with loving kindness in action and in our hearts. We do not succumb to hate or even tolerate it. Most of all we do not engender hate ourselves.  

So is this a dark day? I do not know. But I have spent today trying to give you my Love, treat those I encounter with respect and honor. And here is hoping for the best.

I love you my angels....
Yours always,
Mama