אני לדודי

My daughters,


This year I have been doing something new. When I say a prayer over you at Shabbat, I say a prayer for your soulmate, whomever that may turn out to be. This idea was planted by a trip leader in Israel and has stuck with me. I hope and imagine that your soulmates' mothers are blessing them as well. My hope is that they are loved and cherished wherever they are. That they grow to be respectful and kind and that they merit to deserve your love.

I know something about this. To you my husband is your father. Daddy. He is there to drive you places, cook our food, remind you to do things like say "thank you" and put your laundry away. He always there for you. When I am off to work, he tucks you in, brushes your teeth, helps you pick out your clothes for tomorrow. But to me he is something more.

I often think of my husband in terms of being my beshert (I know that is Yiddish but to me it is the best word - as I often say in my letters to you, words often fail the meaning of the heart, but we do our best). He is, truly, my other half.  In a very meaningful and real way, the entire course of my life was altered by our meeting, recognizing each other and, after some time, joining together under the chuppah.

When I do refer to him in these terms, as my soulmate, or as you hear me call to him as dodi, depending on my audience some people seem amused by this. In fact, I have been met with laughter on occasion. But this is cynicism and is of no consequence. He is my soulmate, and that is fact. The point of faith I wish to share with you is that this does exist. It is real. However, no one's actual life is like a Hallmark movie or a Jane Austin novel. I think we demonstrate this to you every day but if it is not clear, please understand the gift of finding one's soulmate is much like the rest of life. It is not without work. It does require effort. Some days more effort than others. And a relationship demands some creativity as well.  John Gray in his book Men are from Mars, Women are from Venus, imparts that "The secret of forming a successful relationship is for both partners to win." Like I said, this will take creativity.

There are many parts to a wedding ceremony, each with its own meaning and significance. And the final part takes place under the chuppah, a home of sorts, where two people come together to no longer be separate but are joined as one. Each day is an opportunity to reunify. For in this life we are separate. Sometimes, you may have noticed, your father and I may appear opposite. This used to bother me. Worry me. But I am learning that we are two halves and therefore not meant to be the same. Besides, where would be the elevation and growth without these differences? There was a magic about the chuppah that I carry with me to this day. And each day is a time to help build ourselves up and grow together. We are Blessed by our differences as much as by our unity.

In looking at the text on the original relationship of Adam and Chava they seem to make a mess of it right away. She takes the fruit that is forbidden and gives it to Adam. He blames her for it when Hashem questions him. Then they have to leave their home. For good. So for one thing, we learn, even in Eden, we are able and maybe prone to make mistakes. In other words, sitting around and thinking about, "If I only had this....money, home, stuff....all would be easy and well." This is not true and not our journey. Because even when we had everything possible we could look for more and in so doing, make a poor choice. On this note, not that it was a choice, almost three months ago now my husband lost his "job." Not even close to Eden. And the truth is I have never been happier and never been more in love. So it is not the stuff.

We do make mistakes, we disagree, we defend and we blame. But we talk about it, we admit our faults and we grow together. To build and reunify again and again. We forgive and we move forward. And above all we really do love each other.

My prayer for you both, G-d willing, is to find your beshert in G-'d's time. That you, my daughters, and your other halves out there - wherever they may be - that you all grow up surrounded by love and respect. In the meantime, I will try to do my part to give you the best (and most realistic) view of a happy marriage that I can.

We are so Blessed to have each other. That we live as we do, safe and Loved, beyond measure.
These are my thoughts today, your father's birthday. May you always know, deep down, how loved your are. May you know love and be as content with your dodi as I have been Blessed to be.

Love, always,


Mama

Happy birthday Rina

Dear Marcella,

For almost 9 years, I have been able to say I am a mom. Most days I remember that you are our rainbow baby and I recall what it was like to be without you. The last few years have been a challenge (I don't care if I am not supposed to say that, it is true). And I have never loved anyone so fiercely before you. I am so Blessed, we are all so Blessed to have you in our lives. As I went into your birthday weekend these are my thoughts...

Ella, you and your sister, your dad, our little family are the center of my life. I know some days are not easy for you. But I can tell how safe and loved you feel at home with me and your dad. And I am grateful for every person in our lives who makes this real life the best ever. We love you Mars Ella Marcella Kathleen Rina Simcha!

Happy Birthday!
Love, Mama

light

Dear world,

So... life with anxiety.
I cannot drive my daughter to school.
I cannot be spotted in the building during the day by her.
Objects cannot be on the edge of a shelf or table.
I cannot do another activity while she does homework.
I have to answer the phone at 530 am at work.
I have to answer a facetime call at 730 pm at work.
Her father cannot put her blankets on until I facetime with her. Then he has to put them in a certain order.
If she doesn't get her way she rolls on the floor.
She has had panic attacks during which she cannot breathe and I have almost taken her to the ED.
She screams if she stubs her toe, has a tag in her clothing.
I am embarrassed that she will not look other grown ups in the eye and say thank you or hello - she seems rude but I suspect she is afraid.
She checks 2 -3 times a day what time I will be home, what time she will see me next.
She yells at my husband 5 - 20 times a day.
She throws things.
Sometimes I wake up, have an hour to pray, pick up my kids and emotionally wrestle with myself and referee my family for the 3 hours before I leave for work.

When is your child ill and struggling and when are they just obnoxious? Where do civilized people draw the line between reacting in anger and discipline? How do you grow a child who is confident but not the center of the universe? And how do you stay on the same page as your spouse on what to do next?

I suppose we all have our triggers, our own issues.

I want my daughter to stay strong, without overpowering the rest of us. G-d I wish sometimes I could just hold her like when she was a baby and all she would have to do is see my face to know all is well. I really miss that.

G-d split the red sea, returns my soul to me each day, brought us out of slavery... I think maybe He can handle the Chaloms.
How can I do anything but with Hashem?

Each day I daven, I say the words: מוֹדֶה אֲנִי לְפָנֶֽיךָ: I am grateful before You.... I used to have a hard time with that. The big things: My father being ill, in a way nice people do not want to be talking about. Just watching the news, what people do to each other. The littler struggles day to day with being a wife, an observant Jew, a mother, getting "it" all done. Then my daughter posing as an extra challenge? What then? How am I grateful before G-d?

What is it to be Praiseworthy? This is about elevation, inner light like a candle drawing closer to Hashem. I cannot give my family hope I do not have myself. I cannot give emunah, if it is not living in me. Blessed is Hashem for all that I do have in my life, and also for all that I do not have in my life. I used to want 5 kids - it has not been my path. Thank G-d, I am Blessed, I have time to devote to helping my one with struggles and time to devote to my one that has few struggles, Thank G-d. I live in MoCo - there are more support groups and yoga classes and therapists than we could see in a lifetime. Thank G-d. I am employed, I have insurance, Thank G-d. I am generally healthy and have a gym access at work for $10 a month to de-stress, Thank G-d.

I am before You, gratefully. And each time I take the time to Thank Hashem for All of It, I am on the path that gives me Light, and Hope and Faith. I also, Thank G-d, am never alone.

This last night of Chanukah was not the spiritual evening I had in mind. It was what it was and it was a Blessing. My relationship with my daughter was also not what I had in mind. It is a Blessing.

To light a match to light a candle there is friction for the spark. What would life be without that?

Hopeful and Grateful,

And Blessed,

 B.

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.