Category Archives: Uncategorized

new feelings

i just love NEW…

 

when you wink & smile at me: i feel like making out with you.  a good, long, proper session.

when you go to daven or i hear you make an aliyah:  i feel inspired to stay on the path.  to keep doing mitzvot & trying to daven more. keep aspiring to be the best jewish woman i can be.

when i see the sadness in your eyes: i feel like holding you really close, and somehow giving you all the warmth that i have inside of me.

when we get stupid together: i feel like a kid.  the way a kid has fun – no inhibitions, no holding back feelings – just light & free – fun & laughter.  i didn’t realize, but i’ve been lonely for that kind of fun.

and when you tell me to sit down, while you make me a sandwich: i feel like marrying you.

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there you were

whilst I was ranting over unsettled fantasies and silly tales of children, a man of truth crept up slowly.  you aligned yourself quietly; weaved around the gibberish and drunken woes and snuck in through the back door. I sobered up and went around checking that all the doors were locked (as I do), and there you were.  there you were, in all your brightness, like a strong beam made out of all the elements, shot down from heaven and straight for my heart.  one shot and graceful substance was felt and known by both.  one shot and I was blown away to the places of dreams and open hearts.  so here you are.

here you are, with no fear; strong and mighty with the gentlest of hearts.  brave, driven, and masculine with romantic dreams cared for deep beneath your unbreakable walls.  however, not too deep, that vulnerability will not be seen in the presence of proper company.  not so deep to let fear keep your dreams hidden away.  instead, ready to share your dreams fearlessly with hope.  ready to hold my hand and jump into the unknown valiantly, with no looking back, and not a plan in sight.  but take my hand, you probably will.  because no matter how nuts I may seem, you hold me in your powerful arms and smooth out the creases of my endless anxieties.

there is no trepidation towards eachother, only the concern, or straight-up terror, of jumping without clear sight of the terrain on which we land on.  this fast moving train most likely will not stop just for us.  shall we jump?

train-jump

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letting some shit out

what’s wrong?

Nothing.  Just letting some shit out.  I thought it was you at first.  We had gotten off the phone and I realized that you haven’t said anything about ANYTHING.  So I thought I needed to cry you out.  Let you go maybe?  So I did for a minute..  I put on the right music into my headphones, and cried as if it was all over.  It felt pretty good, but I felt that wasn’t it.  So I danced. Once again, I put on the right music, started dancing, thought of you, smiled, and you were a happy place once again.  So definitely not you.

So I came upstairs. Looked at the picture of my cousin, who’s been dead over 10 years now – but still feels like it happened yesterday.  I told him I missed him.  I wished he was here.  The more I talked to him, the more I cried.  I just know that he would try to tell me what to do about things.  Give me advice about that guy I really like but jumped too fast.  Tell me how to deal with being a full time employee for the first time in my life. He’d probably be right, whatever he’d say.  He’d make me laugh.  We’d smoke a dutchie and stay up all night talking deep shit.  Then I really let it out again.  But now, what the fuck right? Just a weepy mess!

I walk into the bathroom, place my hands on the counter, and stare at myself and ask myself that same question, “what. the. fuck.?”  I say to myself that whatever this shit is, let’s let it out.  And FINALLY I realize… I’m on my rag in 4 days!!  Ha!  For a long time, I’ve had my monthly cycles under good control.  The date, the duration, minimal “syndrome.”  One in the same, I have my hormones pretty well under control as well.  I just have to catch them when they’re running a muck.  I never said I wasn’t emotional.  But I am very self aware, and I’ll figure it out.  I just hadn’t thought of why I’d be feeling so extra sensitive.

So I’m not sad or mad about you or him or this.

I’m just extra emotional right now.  Period.

My feelings are heightened.  My heart is wide open and my tears flow easily.  So yea, I might ask myself “shit, is this it?”, “will you still love me tomorrow?” and cry at the thought that maybe that WAS it.  But last week when I asked myself that same question, I answered “who cares?!”  Because I really don’t care.  Life is good.  But when my feelings are heightened, just the thought of things make me cry.

Some days my insides are just heavy.  It can be anything that gets to me.  I can think about you. About my mother or my dead relatives.  My childhood, my job, or my anxiety — and cry it out.  Because most days, I go with the flow and try to be light.  But it’s because I aim to stay so true to myself that I HAVE to let it out on heavier days.   Otherwise I wouldn’t be letting myself be true.  Be me.

Hormones are a son of a bitch, yes, but if you just look at them when they’re up in your face.  When they are flying through your system, catch them, see what they are, and stare right back at them.  Face them and feel them because they’re a part of you.  You’ll wake up more peaceful and with a wiser heart.  I know I will.

The more settled and peaceful your heart is, it’s the better you that you offer the world.

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part 2

sunset dance

 

here we are.

don’t worry about what to do next;  or about telling me when you’ll call.

i want you to call me when you feel like it; when you have something to say; when you want to hear me laugh; when you want to listen.

what happens next?  whatever comes next, that’s what.  no need to commit to a plan that has to be.  expectations aren’t fair to anyone.

don’t wonder if I’m thinking about you, because I am.

i have no idea how to do this, either, but i’m in.  i won’t be afraid. let’s dance.

all you have to do is stay in it.  ride with me. don’t let go.

 

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how DO yOu DO it?

This gallery contains 2 photos.

the next time someone asks me “how do you do it”, I’m going to say I DON’T HAVE A FUCKING CHOICE! that’s how! so don’t ask! Granted, I know people mean good by it.  I get it a lot from people raising kids with a partner as in, “I can barely do it and I’m… Read more.

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them there eyes

couple-look-in-your-eyes-love-romantic-smile-Favim.com-132164

“i fell in love with you the first time i looked into…them there eyes…”

But after that you would remain a face to the fantasy in my mind.  It was safer that way.  I couldn’t get disappointed or heart broken.  I could keep my vulnerabilities to myself.  I could keep making up everything you say to me.  I could keep telling myself that my beshert is probably on the opposite end of the globe.  Because that’s how backwards my life has been.  Besides, I’ve always felt I was destined to walk alone.

If you don’t know what you’re missing, it is easy to keep your heart safe, be happy for others, and always wonder.  I do.  I wonder.  I am not particularly jealous.  But sometimes I’ll watch a family eating together at synagogue and I will stare and wonder.  I just wonder what it’s like.  When someone tells me she is pregnant again, I wonder what it’s like to announce that happily with someone.  Wondering has been okay.  It’s okay because when I snap out of it, I am still happy and grateful for all the blessings in my life.  After all, who could take away my quiet nights by the fire writing or reading?  My hikes with the dog?  Uninterrupted movie time. Being a mother.

Your face can.

My day dreams about what it could be like can definitely distract me.

Your anonymous face, however, kept my daydreams safe and my heart romantic.  Again, if you don’t what you’re missing, right?  Life doesn’t hurt.  I don’t get sad or lonely.

You have ruined that by entering into my life.  Now I know I’ve come across something I may actually want.  Now I have something to yearn.  Memories to cherish.

Thanks.

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I Don’t WANT to be Impressive

 

When people began learning about my divorce, there had been a constant sentiment coming from people.  Friends kept telling me that they were proud of me.  What!? Me? Why?

What is there to be proud of?

Proud of choosing the wrong path?  The wrong guy?  For staying static for too many years?  Proud of putting my children through some intense scary shit? Of ignoring the red flags that have been waiving in front of me for years? Of settling? I certainly did not feel very proud at first.

I mean, I know what they meant, of course.  It takes a lot of strength to make a decision with such unpredictability.  I suppose you need chutzpah to start all over, especially with little ones.  A lot of us stay in unhappy relationships or situations simply because it is easier.  It is easy to settle into being content.  It’s cheaper and “might as well” right?  Because we all know going down the other road is going to be emotionally tough, financially straining, and down right scary.  Their pride in me, though, showed support and made me feel strong and able to take on anything.

So I took that confidence and pride, the anger I was feeling, and allowed my logical brain to take over for a while.  My heart has gotten me into enough trouble and it felt as though my head had my heart in a choke-hold…So no one saw me cry.  My children saw silliness, tasted delicious meals, and woke up smiling.  I would smile big and work hard at the office.  I took all my strength from the deepest parts of me to get through court hearings, attorney meetings, debt collectors, police visits, maintaining my cool, facing foreclosure, and to pray as hard as I could.  Honestly, I had been doing alright, considering all the factors, here.

Because sometimes shit feels so heavy in your soul, but somehow something else inside you tells you that this is right.  I know somehow that I am doing the right thing.  Don’t ask me how.  Even though it hurt SO much a lot of the time, I knew it was right.  I knew that I deserved the best.  That I will NOT go down like this.  I will not let myself sink into contentedness when instead, I can grow and live.  Live outside the box of Maybe and head into the space of Forward.

So the other day, my friend Malina says to me that what I was doing was “brave and impressive” (via text).  Right there, in my car, at a red light, I literally screamed out “I don’t WANT to be impressive!!” I probably sounded like my kid when she doesn’t want to take a bath or put on her shoes.  If I wasn’t driving, I probably would have stomped my foot while I said it.  I turned into a 5-year-old and the tears ran down my face all the way home. Truth is, we can only carry our own personal world on our shoulders for so long before you want to take that thing and throw it as far away from you as possible. You don’t even want to see it.  Because even though you know it is right, it just feels so unbelievably impossible.  It is beyond exhausting.  I’m tired of being strong and keeping cool.  That’s just as exhausting.  I kept my cool for a long-ass time and right there I let myself lose the cool…and let it all out.

So as I pack up the house, crying with each book or frame I pack, with melancholy nostalgia and hopeful excitement at the same time:

I don’t feel like making you proud.  I don’t want to be brave and I do not want to impress you.  I want to lay around in sweatpants with a bottle of whiskey and a joint and cry over a boy who broke my heart.

BW-cry

 

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women don’t know what they want?

you think women do not know what they want?
how about they do?

how about when you thought you had everything you wanted
and everything you wanted turned to shit?
everything you thought was the dream, faded.
left you floored, in a million little pieces.
and then you realize maybe that’s not what you wanted after all.

so then you think you’d rather be alone right?
yes, that’s what you want.
walk your own path, live it how you want to
without anyone getting in the way
nothing distracting you from finding and sharing the light.
because why live a broken heart SO MANY TIMES?

and at the same time.
the SAME time.
you know that deep deep down
past the toughest of attitudes
the strongest of walls
beneath the most positive sense of humor
and light searching soul
you know that you do not want to go alone.

does that mean i don’t know what i want?
if you think so, then you don’t know shit about a woman’s heart.
and you certainly don’t know shit about mine.

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Punches from the Past

There are many times you might bump into someone you have not seen in a while, or get a random email nicely written from someone you never hear from. Many times, we say that was a blast from the past.
My past lately likes to sucker-punch me. I get my past punched in the face with a dash of emotional bruising.
Punches from the past keep me from slumping down into a monotonous emotional routine.
Punch me in the face to remind me of how much i have yet to process.
I preach the importance of processing life’s events so as to not fester.
Yet, this year I have found plenty left unprocessed in the depths of my heart.
Perhaps leaving that much about my past buried deep enough I would not have to face it in the mirror, has brought me so many punches this year.

They are punches rather than memories because I sometimes have to face unpleasantries. Some of my own doing. But to move forward I have always found it necessary to dissect myself. But where do we draw the line? Where do we begin to become obsessive and unable to function in the PRESENT. At what point do we decide there is nothing can be done. Because in actuality, there IS nothing can be done.

How many times can I tell you I am sorry?
You show up in my facebook messages.
Show up on my set.
In text messages with beautifully written memories of me.
What to learn, what to learn.

I cannot run from you again. I have been punched and confronted so as to face you.
Do I tell you I wish I could do it all over again? Do I dare, when wishing for that could erase so much of my present? But I have run and hid. I have run without looking back.
It is time to look.

Oddly enough, much of this surge began around the time of my spiritual new year (high holidays) and here at the closing of 2012, I try and make sense of it by writing a senseless blog entry that no one will read. So, my Logic and my Heart CAN be in sync. Somewhat.

Past, can we be friends?
Do people truly move on? Do I?
Because what I would really like to do is punch you right back.
Tell you to get the hell out of my face and never return.
But now that would not be very mature of me, would it?

Angry or not, I look for you in those messages now.
I look for you on my phone. I close my eyes and see your face.
I pour a glass of wine and pretend to call you.
I smoke a cigarette and have a conversation with you.
And until I can make sense of all of these memories, feelings, and fears –
I will try not to become overwhelmed with the emotion and continue to pray for peace.
I will give you my genuine self as I always do.
But could you please stop punching me so hard?

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interfaith positive

i regretfully admit that i have complained about my interfaith marriage.
not about my husband, but not being to share in my love of judaism.
that i am so alone in my quest to have more torah in my life.
to raise good jewish girls. to welcome shabbat every week with glimmer and joy while standing with someone who understands.

i am happy to report a positive note in interfaith.

last month, i happily made it to temple for shabbat. it was quite packed for there had been an event prior to services that i had not known about. my friend asked if the girls were with me and i said they were home with their father. now, i do sometimes happily enjoy shul with my daughters. however, being as young as they are and with all that is my busy life — i sometimes enjoy the private time to daven. to have that positive, spiritual experience without distraction.

on the other hand – my friend who had shared with me, the idea of davening in temple without children, explained that she and her husband BOTH want to go to services. and when a decision cannot be made on who stays with the children, they simply do not go. so what a concept, she thought, and a great thing about not marrying jewish! it was so nice to think about a positive thing in interfaith.
he stays home with the kids while i go to shul! then the jokes ensued with the other women about having girls’ night, manischewitz and carb overload with the challah…crazy fun. cool life, huh?

although this is written with a sense of humor and sarcasm to it. it really WAS nice to find a positive in it. especially because i was really starting to get down about it. it is tough enough as it is to maintain one’s faith, traditions, and morals, in this secular world i live in. fighting a constant desire to go back to more observance and practice.  but i also make kiddush on friday nights with my four year-old daughter who uses a plastic goblet with grape juice.

but the joke made me look for positive. helped me remember how beautiful it is to SHOW someone the beauty in the torah. to make the dark light. i am slowly finding community and i know i will always have my community and someone to share the deep love for it we are born with. but there is beauty in teaching our beautiful ways. in taking the darkness of this world and making it light.

it is a part of my challenge. it is a part of what i am doing, which i may never figure out completely.  and i may not succeed.  you can’t share beauty, love, and faith with someone who doesn’t want it.

 

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