The Bleak Side

From the Diet to the Running

To the recital wednesday night
The cousins coming tomorrow

The doctor visit at 7:00 am

The insurance guy. G-d help me

I really want to get my robe shortened

Before Shabbos

Chanuka party to prepare

And Shabbos guests

Ironing

At least the house is clean

When

I hear the baby crying when he's not

Hear my son calling 'Mommy' though he's not

In the shower

When the music plays

Their voices ring in my ears

My heart jumps

My feet prepare to drag back across the house to their bedroom

My mind prepares

Exercise patience

It feels so typical

Is this really MY freakin life

G-d help me

Please

My head is spinning so fast

I think it might spin right off

Is this terribly depressing

Im sorry but

There is no happy ending

There is no ending at all

Thats the thing

Anyway

Now that its said I guess its not so bad

At all

At all

Check this out-

Happy Chanuka

I come from
The windowsill
Fingers laced around the cold window bars
Midnight air dark and thick blue
Sit still
I just fit
Wait
For he
He who will never come
I know it
But still I must wait


I come from
The white room
Black drapes
Stars and moons in silver
Cross my legs suck my thumb
Rock rock rock
Where I sit nights
Writing
Painting pain into words

They were the nights of fear
And the days of apathy
Because
I come from those
Deceptively cool green school lawns
Controlled by the power to reduce
Anything into Nothing
Glory into mediocrity
Genius into stupidity

There were
The girls that smile
And the boys that stare
And the kindness of a red car
Clean and cool and kind
Because you were neither and both
When I walked step by step
Bottle of red wine on the roof of a car
Balancing on a painted white line
Under the half moon of a black sky
Nights of flashing lights
Spinning and spinning into a blur
Merge into the throbbing music
To mirror the pulsating anger and hatred
Drink it down
Drink and dissappear
Swallow
And kill the fear

And run run run
Away
Save me hide me start me again
You did

And then
It was midnight
The pain was back but worse
With panic; escape

And
Its 2am
Its 3am 4am
Because
Time flies time floats
Roll hit and share
Laugh with red eyes
Exhausted on the couch
Burn out and start again
And pretend it's forever

Be still
Now it's morning
My head aches
My memory deserts me
Hang in the hammock
Smoke
Swing swing swing
Look forward
To a rising sun

The suffocating smell of fumes. And wet coats. Tired bodies. All ugly, looming over me, all silent, all staring. I don't stare. I don't have to. I simply absorb their death-like existence. Against my will. It's like a smell. A strong, old smell. The bus rolls and rattles along. I can't hear myself think; I am lulled into a rhythm of a distinct descent into the depths of a black depression.

Every sharp, reckless turn turns my stomach. They seem oblivious. This noise. I must escape this roar. But outside the night is bleaker still. The streets glimmer with rain in the yellow streetlights. Yellow. Like eyes of evil creatures. Only at night.. They create fear and pain in my chest. My heart pounds. Don't want to be out there don't want to be in here. Don't want to be back it is not home there is no home.

I sink, sink, sink into my damp coat. Damp with the same awful rain smell as theirs. Not gentle sweet-smelling rain, but weak rain, wind-blown and unsymmetrical, unpredictable. Filling me with apathy, I can barely muster the emotion to feel despair... my mind begins to wonder vaguely- how the hell did I get here, into this warp black-hole vacuum sucking me in so I can't escape. What the hell is this all about, WHO ARE YOU I want to scream at them.. get me out of here get yourselves out of here you ugly freaks, the way you drag yourselves along. Where is my light my peace....

A soft sob escapes my throat, waking me from my dark solitude. I am innocence shattered, the bird exposed. Falling. Unprotected. 'No-one told me!', I want to cry...

But I refuse to submit to this Heaviness around me. Feeling my courage well up inside of me, I remember- I have seen more than this, been taught more, learned more. I know more than this, I am more than this. I can see with eyes open, and listen to my own Mind. And I do not like it. Though I will not judge it, nor will I excuse it. And I will create my own frame. A Life. Till it reflects peace, beauty. Not hidden and smothered and suffered but a life glowing authentically. Brightly and with Peace.

These streets

Mirror the maze in my head

Dart this way, dart that way

It's too dark it makes no sense

Can't go right can't go left stuck stuck stuck

Just sit

There are no solutions

Every which way I turn

Something else challenges me

Heart pounds

Clock ticks

Traffic and oppressive heat

Clock keeps ticking

Fifteen minutes till class starts

Still have to find parking

Heartbeat accelerates

As my head starts to pound

What am I doing this for??

I feel dizzy

I don't want to despair

I think

None of this is easy

My pessimism, cynicism

I'd like to call it realism

Taken to a new level

A rock and a very hard place.

Tick tick tick

There is no better way just go straight

My eyes hurt

Want to scream

JUST STAY STILL

But nothing ever will

Tick tick tick

Tick tick tick

Nothing will ever stay still

Heart beats and clock ticks

And there will be no peace

None of this is easy and

No-one said it would be

So

Sit

Through the noise and rush

Find centre of gravity

Don't try to fix

Stop your mind from running in circles

Because you've been there before

There will be no perfection no solution

But create refuge inside

A peace a place of

Courage renewal

Each breath is deep and

Maybe

I can

For Three Days

I watched as you were wheeled in on your hospital stretcher bed
Hands limp beside you; that long IV needle with its friendly yellow cap
Protruding from your vein
Dye blond hair matted against your flaccid vacant face
Your head rolled over, eyes roaming slowly; uncomprehending
Your stare. My heart stopped a beat. I saw your utter exhaustion, confusion..
You were barely there
The words run through my head-
That one definitely took the shot..
I quickly look away, instinctively pull in my stomach
That's not me. Not not me. Right..? Not me.
Walk fast, faster; flip-flops slap-slapping reassuringly
Down that hallway.
Do I really have to be here?



I braved the sunny communal dining room
I think: Assylum
Trays and plates. Stand in line.
Obey the rules- No men
This strictly enforced by the warden-like woman
With short spiked red hair and the painful tone of voice
That says, "I love my job"


There are some women in terry-robes; fluffy slippers
Shapeless robes stockings wigs. Eat bread. Porridge.
I stare; disbelieving
And the group in thin hospital gowns and friendly pink toenails
Chatting and giggling over breakfast eggs..
What's with that somber skinny thing
Bleak black hair and black bags under wide black eyes
...

Play Mariah in my ears
Hot cup of tea. Sit alone in a quiet corner.
The flowers are pink and tall outside the thick glass windows
Tall windows all the way round the room
It's a sunny bright blue day
On the other side there
Sigh. Smile.


And then it's night
I like the quiet. The clean.
The wheeling of my tiny baby bassinet
Is loud. Distinct.
When we pass each other in the dimly lit hallways
It's with a humble, soft respect
This shared unanticipated intensity
Despairing emptiness inside
Celebration of new life
A tangible inspiration

The life and the death inside me
All around me
Overwhelms me
Relinquishes me of power
Fills me with infinite gratitude


Thank You World.

The Art of Waiting

How could I forget-

The Waiting Place

...for people just waiting

Waiting for a train to go

or a bus to come, or a plane to go

or the mail to come, or the rain to go

or the phone to ring, or the snow to snow

or waiting aroung for a Yes or a No

or waiting for their hair to grow

Everyone is just waiting.

We all wait for something

It's not a passivity

A rather active state actually I have found

How well can you wait

Patient enough not to let it overcome you

Aware enough not to feel unprepared

Keep your waiting in the back of your mind

But only in the back

Till the time comes

And my wait is over

A new life in is place

New new Life

PESACH!

First time making pesach!! Wow
Busy and fun :)
If you have never seen Yerushalayim erev-pesach....
You aint seen pesach yet!
On channukah its the menorah's and sufganiyot in every random makolet
Sukkos time you hear nail-banging at ever hour
Pesach you hear vacuming!
Every hardware store and anything store sells gas burners, toaster ovens, pots and peelers! Brooms, sponges, sink inserts and shelf-paper!
( 'Bedatz' shelf paper of course)
The gas station- 50 shekel to vacuum inside my tiny car!!
Helloooo?!
And
Let's not forget the supermarkets..
Um there were people in the rain waiting outside the store an hour before it opened!
You think the pushing on buses is bad.. try Israeli pesach shopping- its like bumper cars- without the padding- and bumper car traffic jams down every aisle!!
Help! All I want is a box or two of matzah and some pesach cereal!
Well, we managed.. with the beatles playing on your ipod- anything is possible
I guess all you need really is love
:)

Please Note-
Public Hagolas Keilim and Mechiras Chometz will take place IY"H sunday between 10:00 and 12:00 outside every shul and shtiebel.
(All pots must be clean and not a Ben Yoma bevakasha)
Now all we're waiting for is the mass chometz burnings! The say it puts Lag Ba'omer to shame!
Chag Kosher V'Samaech
Enjoy!

Flight

the
thunder
red and black and dark
heard but not seen
incoherent for its volume
wordless
loud
unstoppable
so
stay out of its path
it is rolling ceaselessly forward

every red and furious encounter
leaves the butterfly
singed scarred
there is no fighting
there is only hiding
but the red thunder will seek the butterfly out
it must blend
pretend

the butterfly's flight
doesn't exist
a flight that would be
so different
slow, beautiful
painful
all seen little heard
every inch of movement drawing all its energy
grace power ingenuity
but it wont fly
can't fly
the butterfly is trapped
hovering
trying to live
its feet never touch ground
it flutters in fear
exhaustion...

the butterfly watches with eyes
too big too revealing
but cannot be
like the wind
up and down in and around
soft and coaxing
or the whistling sound
that it watches warily
lilting laughing carefree..

so it hides
masquerade in place
it is alive
but inside
the butterfly is a moth
grey, lifeless
that withers
and disappears
at the lightest touch

it is a death unknown
unwitnessed

till one day
a ray of light appears
new
never seen before
never imagined
penetrating its shroud
so simply
deeply
the frail butterfly shakes
the light is strong and lovely
warm, kind
but it hurts
to face it...

drawing out
a beating heart
the beauty
magnificence
that the butterfly has had to hide
but
so slowly
it begins
awaken
feel talk laugh sing
be fly
open
free

fighting to shed the remnants
of her cloak
and build the little moth
from the inside
the butterfly cannot look back

the butterfly is new
a new creation
begins to live
to love
connect
share
no longer afraid
a learner and a teacher
a partner

ray of light and butterfly
cannot be apart
without the light, she cannot fly
and the ray of light
follows
to new places
it never knew it never knew
attached
in flight
in love
enclosed in a secret
together



see
see the
unrecognisable butterfly
in a new orbit
a bright one
fearless

brave
discovering
meaning of flight

It's easier and funner than it looks

yO sUsHi !

yoU hAve tO TrY It SoMeTImE

The I

fear
dark dark fear
gripping steel hand of anxiety
rooted so deeply in my heart
that old familiar place
that i'd rather not visit

but

i am alone
so i will be alone
this lonely view
i share with no-one
complete solitary being

my mind darts like a trapped bird
looking for someone someone
the voice says
there is no-one
only you
so be alone
alone i am

and now
things are so different
unrecognizably so
although not from your unchanging view
but i
i am i
my heart and the voices in my head
are yours no longer
i learned
pain sadness
loneliness faithlessness
sears your heart but wont kill you
if it hasn't got you yet
i learned
fight
hard
but
shhhhh..
quietly
and alone

and so i do
far away from anything familiar to you

almost comical but not
when i contemplate
how little your window is

you have never seen me
my death my salvation
us
the years
our life
our love
our laughter
our secret

to worry you
to pain you
is never my intention
nothing i do
is intended for you
anymore
i am me
i live for myself
act for myself
alone
freed

don't you see
i don't forget
you are there
and
i never ask for anything
if i wanted your help
if i thought it could exist
i'd ask

alone always and to die alone
help who you can
and be who you are
and live for no-one
if you live
let it be for yourself
alone

Purim

The table- red and royal. Extravagant. The menu- perfectly beautiful, delicious, yet practical (most guests will be too drunk to appreciate anything complex)

Mishloach Manos- inexpensive yet tasteful...

My family all made up sweet and lovely..

My child, so delighted with the pantomime, the perfect dream-like fantasy of today

Watch his face, his eyes when he takes it all in

The colours, the children, the streets of Yeruhalayim are so bright

Feel the goodness, the giving..

Put smiles on people's faces..

Can you?

Use all your energy- physical, emotional- your creativity, to create a day so joyous and free

Can you relax, let go, invite them all in, and sit and watch and enjoy

Discover the beauty of truth in release, inhibitions dissolved, appearances set aside

Be brave, be yourself. Fell full, feel free, feel confident to enjoy...

Can you relinquish all expectation, and simply welcome all that happens today

A mitzvah of feasting, celebrating, partying. A holiday steeped in mystery- and revelation.

A holiday so suited to today.

Dark, disconnected days- but we know its meaning is simple hidden

For now

Purim has always been my favourite..

When I finally feel peace, harmony, symmetry

In the seeming chaos, and lack of order.

From the past, to the future

Just one day

Fall into it

Let go

Experience it fully

Enjoy

:)

Close My Eyes

How do I get here every single morning

When my eyes burn so

My head so cloudy

Eyelids close won't open

I lay n bed

Warm

Shut shut the light

The world

Every

One

Shut my sore eyes and don't come back

Plug me in to the music

Please

Give me a week

To be still and dark

The waves in my heart too endless

The lists in my head too endless

Heavy

Aching

Sit

Hear the rain

Music metal and loud

Just sitPlease don't drag me out of here

Let me sit awhile....

Just

So I can breathe

So I don't break....

Into millions of pieces

Norm

I found this picture online- it's round the corner from my house!

My car! My little beat-up white car, I love so dearly.

Me and you through thick and thin.

From way back when I was a passenger... then there was my first trip home with my new baby... I remember how you were patient when I became a new driver- and we became firmly attached. And even more patient when I became an educated driver (chutzpah is a must in Jerusalem) - and then a pregnant driver!

You've really been there for us. Taken us all the way to the Chermon, to Eilat, Caesaria, Ashkelon.... Remember when the clutch gave... but we still made it back on the Tel-Aviv highway at 20km\hour?!

And those day when you were so loud, noisy and smelly, I was embarrassed to be seen with you. And your wonderful quirks and dents- darling front door that is NOT allowed to be locked. Period..... if you ever want to get in through the driver's seat again.

All those stressful parking moments and parking tickets (must be around 57 by now)

Remember when we got you a radio! What a joy! Then a cd connector. And when the discman and all my discs were stolen- an iPod connector.. Glory Be!

Well

I prayed for your speedy recovery- it's so good to have you back! Stay with me- I CANNOT be without you!

You have made my Jerusalem life the chill that it is..

And so today- reunited, we cruised along. Sunshine lighting up the city so vividly.

I drive by the tourists, you can spot them a mile away. And I wonder if they know this place.

The way I do.

To live in the ebb and flow of Jerusalem.

How it's not a vacation, a ten-day trip. Or even a one-year experience. Hotels, taxis, Kotel, Dead Sea and Cafe Rimon... Michal Negrin, maybe Emek Refa'im... That must be some other reality...

But this...

When you know the bank security guard. The parking lot security guard- which saves me getting out of the car to open the trunk so they can check (for bombs?!) The cashiers in the supermarket. The gas attendants. The mechanic. The butcher. The quaintest, most adorable coffee spots, and cocktail spots. The (best and fairest) fruit-sellers in Machane Yehuda. The Newspaper-man. Which tiny arbitrary store sells the freshest "loosies" cigarettes. The beggars who frequent this or that particular corner. The traffis lights that you'll never make and the ones you MUST. The meter maids (try make friends to fend off that 58th ticket!) And the real vacation spots where the tourists won't find you.

The glory of the city that's in its every detail.

We breathe this city's air, we know it's every mood..

It's not always particularly inspirational or spiritual..

But it's landscape marks journeys

Journeys of millions, over thousands of years

It's the city that holds my memories, my journeys

Jerusalem, maybe after all these years

You finally are

My home

If I Told You

Memories I have are event-less
Rather eight-year-old thoughts
Feelings and silence
The darkness of my bedroom at night
And the state of my young mind.
.That If I could be anyone
I'd be Alanis Morissette
That I spent countless teen-age afternoons
Smoking cigarettes on my roof
And the view of my street from up there
Is still the most beautiful I have ever seen
I have watched my life
Like I'm a ghost, my hands move without me.
My hero might sometimes be Rebbetzin Heller
And alternately indisputably Johnny Depp.
My most favourite character in Tanach
Is Rachav
That I've been diagnosed as BPD, OCD and Depressive
And that happy pills do work
My favourite movie is The Hours
But then again- it might be Mall Rats
I enjoy K'nesher and Shikira equally
Joni Mitchell, Red Hot Chilli Peppers
And every artist in between
I've been described as a constant acid trip
( And don't disagree)

If I told you

There are many many people I love deeply
Though I'm not sure what love is
When I look in the mirror
The love and hate that I feel simultaneously
Is completely overwhelming
That I don't ever recall having
A single honest dream or goal
I feel that I might have
Written a Million Little Pieces myself
That I've written for so many hours
That before I knew it, it was morning
And time for school
That I could never live without
Showering twice daily
And wearing sunglasses regardless of the weather

What would you say if you could sit in my head for a day? How I wish someone would..

Funny Pic

Isn't this funny?!
Wish you all a great Shabbos and Tu B'Shvat!

My Time

Those Hours. When. You actually feel like you're alive.
Instead of your life living you.
Things are vibrant, dynamic. The world is opportune, beautifully vivid and colourful.
How does it come? And go? How to remember that.. when you barely have to energy to. The sheer dreariness of a sad state. Can I possibly live any other way than this Other-controlled roller coaster carrying me along? To be doomed to dreary colourlessness till a song, a smile, a breath.. a word, rain, or a bit of sun, miraculously emerges me out of my gray box of a mind...

And then.
There is my time. Yoga. Breathe. Bend and fold with grace. With focus. The air is mine. My mind is mine. My body stretching as my mind eases out... Breathe, relax, focus, invigorate.

Take care of yourself, take control of your day. Just for today.
There is no box and there are no boundaries.

Earth

Challenge
My daily companion
It's the pain and struggle
That comes with being me
Being human
In this life against my will-
I am paralyzed, engulfed
I cannot be an active participant
My mind is dark
And racing- constantly
Thoughts and images fly of their own accord
The gravitational pull of my heart
Is almost overpowering
Like a magnet to a dark, endless pit below me
That I must resist, and resist
I struggle to uplift, to emerge
To see light, beauty
Meaning and purpose
In me, in you
In the world, in God
I am a tree
And the earth
I am solid, strong
I am honest and stubborn
My only hope is to direct
My power
Any which way I choose
Gravity pulls me down
Yet only from the Earth can I rise
In my world
Trip called growth
Simply the process of living each day
Drawing the nutrients
Buried deep and invisible
Into my every limb
To flourish, to grow beautiful
To provide shade and fruit
To all who pass me by
The goal, to give

We've Got Annie

Well for those of you who don't know- which is most of you- a play is put on here every year in Jerusalem.. you know, the usual.. a fundraiser for a well-known fertility clinic, run and performed by frum women for frum women bla bla..
This time it was an impressive imitation/ adaptation of the musical Annie!
I must confess I would never usually attend such a performance, I'm kind of nauseated by the inevitable repetitiveness of every one of these shows. but a family member starred- a small role- but nevertheless a big accomplishment- they say it's kind of exclusive (!?)
I would report it as um.. a Beis Yaakov level of professionalism.
In any event, although I may be a little snobbish or critical, or maybe just cultured!, in some ways, I must admit the three American Israeli girls sitting behind me with their formerly American mother put things in perspective for me!
See the performance through their eyes....
For starters they wanted to know, "Uh... what's a hard- knock- life mean?" and then- "Whats NYC?" I am not making this up. It was entertaining! They kept losing the plot, "Who's Ms Hannigan again? And that guy is who? Her brother?" and "What does Mommy (!) Warbucks mean?"
They enjoyed the lights between each scene- multicoloured splats, zigzags, dots, back to splats... a lame attempt at entertainment for the too- long pause between each scene. And soon enough they were humming along with catchy tunes they had never heard before!
I must say Annie was truly lovely- every outfit mimicking exactly those from the musical- and the kids were adorable. And Ms Haniggan- very talented, funny, really!
Would not have hurt to sing the songs one note lower, although the pianist was fabulous. And the dances were great, lively- especially the kids!
Anyway, it was enlightening to see the production through the eyes of other-culture. Most impressive was the fact that these women have kids and busy lives and put a LOT of energy into rehearsals and all that- for no payment- that's for sure. They find the time and energy
to do something expressive and enjoyable for themselves- which is very commendable.
So it was a fun night out after all!

When I Wake Up

Don't want to fall asleep because
I don't want to wake up
Here
This mad quiet scene
My world
I wish to wake up somewhere else
Like a child wishes upon a star
I am tired of this life
It's in's and out's running endlessly through my mind
Stop just stop
Wake me on a summer morning
In a steamy tent in India
In a gorgeous Tuscany villa
Perfect Japanese bedroom
Burned out on an old crack-den couch

Smell of cigarette smoke thick in the air
Wake me in a warm strange man's bed
White and navy beach-side house
Beautiful wooden home on a lake
Somewhere else
Not to my own winter flannel sheets
Not to this city's rain
But to another's
Not to my child's wet bed and soiled pajamas
Not to my man's sleeping face
My house, my kitchen, my endless laundry
Not to my life..please..
The tangible joy and pain I feel
Looking into the face of my child
My swollen belly
My new son letting me know his presence
My husband's concerned eyes
My heart
My constantly beating heart...

Don't want to wake up

Where Do Dreams Go

It was so bright..

Every colour, every shade

In firelight, in rain, in snow

Any place, any time, anywhere

It was a dream of love

Of passion, tears, and joy

Of peace, of silence

A dream to last a lifetime

I held on to it- it gave me life..

Untill, I looked the other way

Or how?

It shattered

My dream

Fantasy

Illusion

What was it

Where has it gone

I see scraps of my shattered painting..

The art of my soul

Raindrops and bright flames

Eyes and hearts so full

Dissipate

I ache I hurt I long

To close my eyes

Blow you into a safe bubble

A perfect swirling multicoloured bubble

Send you someplace simple

Someplace where you can come alive

Unhindered, unaltered

Free

To live