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

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.

 

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.

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.

 

MY HEART GREW & SO DID MY STRENGTH

when my first baby was born, i remember being so awed by how much i loved her. i even apologized to my man when i’d say “i have never loved ANYONE or ANYTHING like i love this baby”. i am sure any mother can agree with the amount of love that comes with giving birth to your first baby. during her first few months, i blogged about the love, i wrote her letters, and i could not stop staring and gazing at her. it was typical behavior you read about anywhere. it was typical mushy for me.

out of left field, i find out i am pregnant as my precious angel is turning two. i find this out after we had agreed to wait at least a year and then discuss again. after we agreed to both work really hard and save some money for a year. i find out after i “missed a pill or two” says the doctor and “that’s all it took”. yes ladies, definitely take as directed or you can find yourselves in the .1% that gets pregnant while taking the same darn pill you have been taking for over ten years.

oddly enough as the pregnancy started to settle in, i began to worry about my motherly love. i actually worried if i would love this baby enough. why? because how could i love anyone or anything as much or more as i loved my first baby? i remembered how i felt when i saw my daughter for the first time and thought i would not be able to share that love. that there is no room in my heart. it was such a strange feeling, i am having a hard time describing it.
i am sure it also did not help that this baby was SUCH a surprise. that the tension in my relationship was unbearable. (i mean, the guy is pissed!) that i honestly did not want to be pregnant and felt really guilty about even having those thoughts. the pregnancy had definitely started off on a bad note. with that rough start came some denial. and it was when that denial finally started to wear off that i began to analyze my love and how fair i would be to this new baby. it hit me so hard that this was actually happening that i went from Denial to Fear. Fear of ALL of it. Every single aspect, every moment, every thought – I was scared of it.

looking back now, it seems almost ridiculous. what happened when my second baby entered this world was that my heart actually grew. i now love two precious angels, equally. my heart grew to be twice as big. i literally have double the love in my heart for these girls. i would give anything to see them happy, to see them protected, to see their every desire or need fulfilled. giving birth a second time was just as overwhelming as the first time, but twice as hard because it was happening AGAIN. because my heart had to grow to receive her.
-i am going in circles with unexplainable emotion- it was Intense. my heart grew.

with two little babies to protect and love, i grew stronger as well. i had not thought of that before i had her, either. while the first few months of my first baby were spent melting over her and the experience; the first few months of my second baby were spent with much worry and anxiety for she was born with an ailment. her first bump in the road presented itself immediately. fortunately, her bump in the road was not life threatening and a plan was made to remove her ailment (BH). plans did not go exactly as we had planned, as we would expect from life, and i prayed for strength. i feared being such a sensitive, emotional mother would not be helpful in the experiences to come. to be in the hospital at the bedside of your infant you just gave birth to. to hand your infant over to nurses and later witness her wake from anesthesia. for rushed trips to the emergency room without a way to explain things to my older daughter. how would i go through it all without breaking down on a regular basis?

well i did. with each step of the way i grew a little stronger. then a little more.
at first the tears would spill over uncontrollably. eventually i could control them from spilling out and they would linger around my eyeballs. i learned to not cry while i nursed her so she would not feel any anguish. i learned to wrap her in warmth love and positivity instead. then i learned to keep it all in my throat even though i sometimes felt i could not breathe – but i did not want my older daughter to see any of it on my face as i would turn away from her baby sister. at least no one could see how badly i was choking at this point.
i am happy to report that at our last visit to the doctor with both babies crying and our new nanny on her first day in the room – i did not shed a tear and i did not lose my breathe. i stayed at the side of my upset infant and purposely looked at my other daughter straight in the eye so she would know that everything was okay and she need not feel worried or scared.

i do not think i am less emotional or less sensitive. i still feel everything and anything around me, especially if it has to do with my family, but i have strength to control. these experiences really do make us stronger. i am stronger now to be alone with my girls while their father leaves town for work and they both get sick, and of course i am sick now too. of course, these weeks without him only make me stronger for the next.

i will not doubt or fear my strength as a mother again. i am still scared shitless of what is coming – but i have faith. i have seen my heart and my strength grow so much in only a few months that i have to lift my head up high as i face the rest of my life as a wife and mother of two.

what is love?

i had an epiphany in the shower tonight.
(if we can call it an epiphany)

there may not be anyone who truly truly gets me.
who is present every step of my emotional path,
every moment, every breath.
but would we want that anyway?

if we truly understood everything about each other,
how and why we react in each different way;
what makes up our individual emotional composition,
would we be together?
what would be the point?
wouldn’t we drive each other crazy?

it is not possible that i am the only person who feels as complex as i do.
we all go through fifty thoughts mixed with thirty emotions in a matter of minutes.
it happens to us all. we barely get it ourselves when it happens;
so how is he supposed to know?
how does anyone know?

time loving each other will take us to a more complex level of understanding.
loving through time, surviving the tests, facing the storms…
every day we are a step closer
i am glad to be on the path.

there was this time, lulu was crying in the car
he jumped in the backseat to calm her
they fell asleep together.
i love him.