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