The Enchantress of last year's masquerade did indeed get married to a friendly, charming Beast (who, entertainingly enough, found someone to love him before his 21st birthday). So it seems my dreams come true. This was the year of the Fairy Queen and the Hasid, now Mr. Curious & Mrs. Hasid.
I'm thrilled to invite you to my masquerade ball once more. This year I turn...22. It's my doppelganger birthday. I haven't been a palindrome since I was 11.
Tonight's theme song is "Welcome to the Masquerade" by Krutch. (Lyrics here.)
Let's melt the plastic.
Previous years' entertainment has included:
Masquerade 2009
Masquerade 2008
Masquerade 2007
Masquerade 2006
The rules, as always, require you to devise an anonymous handle for yourself (comment under an assumed name, not your real one and not that of your blog), create a costume and offer me a gift. The gift does not have to be tangible. Your costumes and gifts should be creative and expressive of various aspects of your personality. You are welcomed, of course, to my party. It is a gala event, opulent and expensive, the glittering ballroom complete with red velvet curtains, dim lighting, winding garden paths and delicious hors d'ouevres and canapes. This is one of the many rooms of my ball (like the Masque of the Red Death, the rooms go ever ever on).The food is unparalleled and the beauties are peerless. Enjoy yourselves...the question, as always, is who is the monster and who is the man? Or perhaps more importantly: what makes a sinner and what makes a saint?
The fun does not end until Saturday night, when you should return so that I can try to unmask you, especially if you are a frequent commenter to this site.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
The Mrs. Miriam Lubling Hospitality-Bikur Cholim Room
Recently, a friend of mine took me on a tour of the Mrs. Miriam Lubling Hospitality-Bikur Cholim Room at the NYU Langone Medical Center in Manhattan. The room itself is located in Rusk, part of a hallway lined with tinsel, cheerful snowmen and happy Kwanzaa signs. I'm a fan of multiculturalism when it means that there's a plethora of colorful things involved.
Bikkur Cholim literally means visiting the sick. This room is set up so that Orthodox relatives of someone who is in the hospital do not have to fend for themselves in an effort to find food or a place to sit, lie down or eat a meal. There's a large table covered with a heavy-duty plastic tablecloth, a sofa, chairs, Jewish magazines and other forms of reading material. The fridge is fully stocked with all manner of items directly provided by the Satmar Bikkur Cholim (read an article about a day in the lives of these women here). There are cheese danishes, containers of pasta with meat sauces, various apple sauces, drinks, cakes and cookies...and that was on a day when they were entirely snowed out and thus not able to get to the hospital to restock the shelves. Ordinarily, my friend informed me, the shelves are bursting with all sorts of food products. Everything is provided completely for free.
In addition, this is a space where Orthodox patients can keep their food; all they have to do is label it with their name and room number and no one will touch it. The fridge is filled with those sorts of packages.
There are cabinets boasting kiddush and havdalah sets, a Sefer Torah locked up in a cupboard that is taken out during Shabbos, utensils, sinks and both dairy and meat microwaves- in short, everything a visitor or a patient might need during their stay at NYU. The amazing part is that at least three different organizations are involved in various aspects of Bikkur Cholim here at NYU. First, there's Satmar, who provides all the food free of charge in portion-sized tupperware containers. Then, there's a certain Rabbi Ridnick (Rudnick? Someone in Boro Park who knows, please correct me) who is a rabbi of a congregation in Boro Park who specifically provides delicious food for Shabbos. And then there are special people who provide apartments two blocks away (and imagine how expensive apartments are in the middle of Midtown Manhattan!) for men and women to stay at. There's a Ladies Apartment and a Men's Apartment so that family members have a place to sleep the night and especially over Shabbos and still be able to spend time with their loved ones.
A rabbi who knows my friend said something that to me resonated powerfully. I don't remember if he was quoting someone or if this was his original thought; he stated that, "All hashkafos make peace at the door of a hospital." And it's true. No matter the background- whether it's Satmar or a Modern Orthodox organization- everyone is able to work together when it comes to stocking Bikkur Cholim rooms or helping out people going through a difficult time. I think that's one of the most beautiful things about us as a people and I just wish we could get to a place where the kindness we express to one another during times of tragedy could become a norm during times of peace as well.
Bikkur Cholim literally means visiting the sick. This room is set up so that Orthodox relatives of someone who is in the hospital do not have to fend for themselves in an effort to find food or a place to sit, lie down or eat a meal. There's a large table covered with a heavy-duty plastic tablecloth, a sofa, chairs, Jewish magazines and other forms of reading material. The fridge is fully stocked with all manner of items directly provided by the Satmar Bikkur Cholim (read an article about a day in the lives of these women here). There are cheese danishes, containers of pasta with meat sauces, various apple sauces, drinks, cakes and cookies...and that was on a day when they were entirely snowed out and thus not able to get to the hospital to restock the shelves. Ordinarily, my friend informed me, the shelves are bursting with all sorts of food products. Everything is provided completely for free.
In addition, this is a space where Orthodox patients can keep their food; all they have to do is label it with their name and room number and no one will touch it. The fridge is filled with those sorts of packages.
There are cabinets boasting kiddush and havdalah sets, a Sefer Torah locked up in a cupboard that is taken out during Shabbos, utensils, sinks and both dairy and meat microwaves- in short, everything a visitor or a patient might need during their stay at NYU. The amazing part is that at least three different organizations are involved in various aspects of Bikkur Cholim here at NYU. First, there's Satmar, who provides all the food free of charge in portion-sized tupperware containers. Then, there's a certain Rabbi Ridnick (Rudnick? Someone in Boro Park who knows, please correct me) who is a rabbi of a congregation in Boro Park who specifically provides delicious food for Shabbos. And then there are special people who provide apartments two blocks away (and imagine how expensive apartments are in the middle of Midtown Manhattan!) for men and women to stay at. There's a Ladies Apartment and a Men's Apartment so that family members have a place to sleep the night and especially over Shabbos and still be able to spend time with their loved ones.
A rabbi who knows my friend said something that to me resonated powerfully. I don't remember if he was quoting someone or if this was his original thought; he stated that, "All hashkafos make peace at the door of a hospital." And it's true. No matter the background- whether it's Satmar or a Modern Orthodox organization- everyone is able to work together when it comes to stocking Bikkur Cholim rooms or helping out people going through a difficult time. I think that's one of the most beautiful things about us as a people and I just wish we could get to a place where the kindness we express to one another during times of tragedy could become a norm during times of peace as well.
Erica's Response & IFYC
Hey all, just wanted to point you toward Erica's response to my questions about interfaith dialogue. I think it's an important and relevant response; go read and perhaps comment there! As an aside, she also pointed out that raising funds for the LGBT Jewish group was a project of Hillel's and "had nothing to do with IFYC."
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
What If You Could Help Me Realize Why I Care About Your Organization?
Yeshiva University's Alumni Affairs department is currently utilizing an extremely poor marketing strategy. Basically, it consists of bombarding alumni with emails with the titles 'What if you could help Nathan realize his dreams?' and the following image:
The idea is that if I simply give money to Yeshiva University, I'll suddenly be able to help this kid change the world. This is stupid on many levels:
1. Many kids dream dreams. How will my gift of money actually enable Nathan to do something that half the world has dreamed of doing at some point or another?
2. Why do I care about Nathan? What is he to me?
3. Where will my gift of money actually go? Does it go directly to Nathan? What's Nathan's email address and how do I get to see whether he actually follows up on what he is planning to accomplish?
Now let's explain what a good marketing campaign does. A good marketing campaign is relevant to me. It pulls my heartstrings. It makes me feel nostalgic for my college, which was like a good friend and which enabled me to take on the world. It makes me want to be back there. It makes me want to give back to my college because I want to thank them for everything they've done and everything they've enabled me to do. Case in point: my former highschool, North Shore Country Day, is currently running a 30 MILLION DOLLAR campaign (remember, this is a high school!). And they've raised most of that money. How did they do that? Well, for one, they made a fundraising video which speaks to the heart of what the school is, what it does, and makes me wish I was back there right now. Watch it here.
Alternatively, you can take the NCSY approach. Your focus is to inspire people. You show them how your program directly benefits the Jewish people. It benefits me and you. When I look at their brochures and see inspirational photos of teenagers who would otherwise know nothing about their Judaism praying, it touches something inside of me. Or at least NCSY hopes it does. Check out NCSY's National Chinese Auction taking place here. Or download the PDF of their Chinese Auction booklet here. Look how brilliantly they've interwoven photos and quotes about their relevant prizes with the photos. (See page 12 for an example). A lot of people are going to give money to them. Why? A) It benefits them. They might win a prize. B) Those are really pretty glossy inspirational photographs of real-life kids who are being helped by the organization. And everyone knows a kid who goes to NCSY.
So in short, marketing needs to touch or benefit me directly, it needs to emphasize the connection I feel toward your organization, and I need to see the direct positive effects of what you are doing for me or a larger extension of me, my Jewish people. So if I were Yeshiva University, I would work on putting out a video that emphasized the many clubs and extracurriculars they offer at their university (images of students fencing, performing plays, the Maccabeats singing, the science club at public school etc), kids talking about their positive experiences, and a diverse array of kids (Sephardi kids, kids from other countries, kids from very different Jewish backgrounds etc) in order to demonstrate exactly how YU benefited and currently benefits me. Maybe I'd even go further and include images of YU rabbis around the globe and so forth, really stressing that YU is everywhere.
But Nathan, whoever he is, just isn't going to cut it.
The idea is that if I simply give money to Yeshiva University, I'll suddenly be able to help this kid change the world. This is stupid on many levels:
1. Many kids dream dreams. How will my gift of money actually enable Nathan to do something that half the world has dreamed of doing at some point or another?
2. Why do I care about Nathan? What is he to me?
3. Where will my gift of money actually go? Does it go directly to Nathan? What's Nathan's email address and how do I get to see whether he actually follows up on what he is planning to accomplish?
Now let's explain what a good marketing campaign does. A good marketing campaign is relevant to me. It pulls my heartstrings. It makes me feel nostalgic for my college, which was like a good friend and which enabled me to take on the world. It makes me want to be back there. It makes me want to give back to my college because I want to thank them for everything they've done and everything they've enabled me to do. Case in point: my former highschool, North Shore Country Day, is currently running a 30 MILLION DOLLAR campaign (remember, this is a high school!). And they've raised most of that money. How did they do that? Well, for one, they made a fundraising video which speaks to the heart of what the school is, what it does, and makes me wish I was back there right now. Watch it here.
Alternatively, you can take the NCSY approach. Your focus is to inspire people. You show them how your program directly benefits the Jewish people. It benefits me and you. When I look at their brochures and see inspirational photos of teenagers who would otherwise know nothing about their Judaism praying, it touches something inside of me. Or at least NCSY hopes it does. Check out NCSY's National Chinese Auction taking place here. Or download the PDF of their Chinese Auction booklet here. Look how brilliantly they've interwoven photos and quotes about their relevant prizes with the photos. (See page 12 for an example). A lot of people are going to give money to them. Why? A) It benefits them. They might win a prize. B) Those are really pretty glossy inspirational photographs of real-life kids who are being helped by the organization. And everyone knows a kid who goes to NCSY.
So in short, marketing needs to touch or benefit me directly, it needs to emphasize the connection I feel toward your organization, and I need to see the direct positive effects of what you are doing for me or a larger extension of me, my Jewish people. So if I were Yeshiva University, I would work on putting out a video that emphasized the many clubs and extracurriculars they offer at their university (images of students fencing, performing plays, the Maccabeats singing, the science club at public school etc), kids talking about their positive experiences, and a diverse array of kids (Sephardi kids, kids from other countries, kids from very different Jewish backgrounds etc) in order to demonstrate exactly how YU benefited and currently benefits me. Maybe I'd even go further and include images of YU rabbis around the globe and so forth, really stressing that YU is everywhere.
But Nathan, whoever he is, just isn't going to cut it.
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Get Ready...Get Set...It's Almost Here!
So, as you folks know, every year I make a party on my birthday! It's my official birthday masquerade! Except this year it's even better because it's a birthday masquerade and also a this-is-the-year-I-got-married party!
Notable comments from last year's masquerade:
shadchan Says: My hands are cupped.
You know who I am, I need not disguise or disrobe.
In my hands is a dancing glow--
I present you with the other half of your soul.
ahh, but like the snitch (of quidditch) as I open my palms it zigzags away!
You saw the glow! Now catch that spark!
shadchan's cronie: amen! this year!
Your Secret Bochur: I walk briskly, peyos swinging, my black hat tipped over my face.
We're so different, yet so alike.
Will you marry me?
Happy birthday, Chana.
~
For the record, Heshy is not the one who wrote the "Your Secret Bochur" comment. I know this for a fact because he was on the train at the time/ had no Internet access there. So I'm still supremely curious about the identity of that commenter. Feel free to unmask yourself at some point.
In any case...get excited! Coming up soon this December 31st.
Notable comments from last year's masquerade:
shadchan Says: My hands are cupped.
You know who I am, I need not disguise or disrobe.
In my hands is a dancing glow--
I present you with the other half of your soul.
ahh, but like the snitch (of quidditch) as I open my palms it zigzags away!
You saw the glow! Now catch that spark!
shadchan's cronie: amen! this year!
Your Secret Bochur: I walk briskly, peyos swinging, my black hat tipped over my face.
We're so different, yet so alike.
Will you marry me?
Happy birthday, Chana.
~
For the record, Heshy is not the one who wrote the "Your Secret Bochur" comment. I know this for a fact because he was on the train at the time/ had no Internet access there. So I'm still supremely curious about the identity of that commenter. Feel free to unmask yourself at some point.
In any case...get excited! Coming up soon this December 31st.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
Grandpa
This is a picture of me and my Grandpa, who passed away on the fourth night of Chanukah, which is also December 23rd. My Grandpa passed away when I was in tenth grade, just before my fifteenth birthday. Today is the English anniversary of his death.I always wanted my Grandpa to dance at my wedding and it made me very sad that he could not. Heshy says that he was there anyway because the souls come down to witness. My mother's tradition is that they are by the Chuppah and Heshy's is that they are by the Mitzvah Tantz. Either way, they are there. It makes me happy that my sister was able to invite him to come to my wedding. It's very fortuitous that this happens to be the year she was in Israel so she was able to visit him in the cementary.
My grandfather was a wonderful grandfather who would take us on outings, buy us slices of pizza at Jerusalem, go with us to Metsuyan to eat Chinese and sip tea, bought me an amazing doll named 'Lydia' and who would shower us in presents and toys and checks. His name was Avraham. I'm named for his mother (at his explicit request. All of the wedding presents I received from my grandmother were also given with my grandfather in mind, so I feel close to him when I use those presents.
I often wonder what he would think of me and what it would be like if he were still alive or could see how my life is currently in the process of turning out. And I miss him.
So here's for you, Grandpa. I still stand and put my hand over my heart.
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Mad-Eye Moody Lives On In Me
Last night I went to The Container Store to buy- you guessed it- containers! Well, what I really wanted was a receipt sorter so that Heshy and I can make some sort of order out of the hoards of receipts that are living in our house. However, when I looked at the actual item, I was horrified by its array of gizmos and other wackiness which makes it difficult to use. So I got a stationary organizer instead for the same purpose. Hurray.
Anyway, that's not the interesting part. That happens when I went to check out.
Brightly-Smiling Cashier Lady: Hello! How are you this evening?
Chana: Good, thanks!
Brightly-Smiling Cashier Lady: (as she looks at my dry-erase board calendar) Oh, are you a student? It's good to stay organized.
Chana: Yes, I am.
Brightly-Smiling Cashier Lady: What are you studying?
Chana: Oh, well I have a Bachelors in English Literature and am working toward my Masters in Bible.
Brightly-Smiling Cashier Lady: (perplexed, confused and slightly traumatized look) Eyeball?
Chana: No- Bible!
Anyway, that's not the interesting part. That happens when I went to check out.
Brightly-Smiling Cashier Lady: Hello! How are you this evening?
Chana: Good, thanks!
Brightly-Smiling Cashier Lady: (as she looks at my dry-erase board calendar) Oh, are you a student? It's good to stay organized.
Chana: Yes, I am.
Brightly-Smiling Cashier Lady: What are you studying?
Chana: Oh, well I have a Bachelors in English Literature and am working toward my Masters in Bible.
Brightly-Smiling Cashier Lady: (perplexed, confused and slightly traumatized look) Eyeball?
Chana: No- Bible!
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
The Interfaith Movement
The two parts of my psyche- or perhaps of my soul- are warring again.
There's an organization called the IFYC, otherwise known as the Interfaith Youth Core. A female student at Brandeis who is Jewish and attended North Shore Country Day School with me is the one who alerted me to its existence. She and her fellow IFYC fellows are passionate, caring people who truly want to change the world and create a place of unity, togetherness, tolerance and understanding. They've put together a beautiful video you can watch below.
On one level, I think this initiative is beautiful. It's great that people from different backgrounds, religions and spiritual traditions are trying to work together in creating a less fragmented, more appreciative world. On her blog, Erica (that's my friend) tells over a beautiful story that illustrates the ways in which respect for different religious traditions can lead to wonderful results.
On the other hand, I feel deeply uncomfortable when I watch this video. There's a strong emotional response on my part that says: no. The question becomes: what is it that I'm saying no to?
And I think it's like this. I think there's a dramatic difference between respecting people's life choices, religious decisions and beliefs inasmuch as we don't express hatred or violence toward them due to these and deciding that religion must change itself to fit our cultural norms. I don't think that respect means that all of our religious differences should or must be embraced, nor must they all be tolerated. As a Jewess, I do believe in an absolute truth and I believe that Judaism is it. I also think that there is a great deal of spirituality and beauty in other faith traditions and admire them but I wouldn't want to incorporate them into my tradition, change or modify my tradition or otherwise agree that certain tenets of my religious tradition are outdated. For example, in today's world, being open about one's sexuality (and/or homosexuality) is embraced. I imagine that Judaism would be criticized within this IFYC culture for its strong stance that homosexual activity is forbidden by God and I would be told to be open to all sexual diversity. Now, I can respect people who happen to be gay, but I will not accept that my religious tradition ought to change to fit the Western culture of our time.
It also troubles me that many of the fellows in the film are not necessarily the most learned in what their faith truly entails. Of the Jews represented, are any of them Orthodox? Do any of them believe in a Bible that came from God rather than one formed by a Redactor? How can you really serve as a representative of your faith when you are following a modified version of your faith to begin with? This isn't to say I don't respect Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist, Renewal or other devotees of different affiliations of Judaism. I just wonder what it means to represent a faith if you yourself don't understand many of the tenets of that faith- or understand them only inasmuch as your professor has explained J,P,D and E to you.
In short, I am troubled by this movement and this video representation. I think it is beautiful a la Chief Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks' The Dignity of Difference. And yet I also wonder whether it is possible to remain part of an interfaith organization without compromising your own standards or indeed, your religious values. I, for example, while more than willing to learn from others with different faiths, would not be interested in raising money to fund a Jewish LGBT program. That would be deeply uncomfortable for me. And so I wonder whether one can truly serve as an IFYC fellow without comprising their identity- especially if they are observant or Orthodox- as a religious person, and in my case, as an Orthodox Jew.
There's an organization called the IFYC, otherwise known as the Interfaith Youth Core. A female student at Brandeis who is Jewish and attended North Shore Country Day School with me is the one who alerted me to its existence. She and her fellow IFYC fellows are passionate, caring people who truly want to change the world and create a place of unity, togetherness, tolerance and understanding. They've put together a beautiful video you can watch below.
On one level, I think this initiative is beautiful. It's great that people from different backgrounds, religions and spiritual traditions are trying to work together in creating a less fragmented, more appreciative world. On her blog, Erica (that's my friend) tells over a beautiful story that illustrates the ways in which respect for different religious traditions can lead to wonderful results.
On the other hand, I feel deeply uncomfortable when I watch this video. There's a strong emotional response on my part that says: no. The question becomes: what is it that I'm saying no to?
And I think it's like this. I think there's a dramatic difference between respecting people's life choices, religious decisions and beliefs inasmuch as we don't express hatred or violence toward them due to these and deciding that religion must change itself to fit our cultural norms. I don't think that respect means that all of our religious differences should or must be embraced, nor must they all be tolerated. As a Jewess, I do believe in an absolute truth and I believe that Judaism is it. I also think that there is a great deal of spirituality and beauty in other faith traditions and admire them but I wouldn't want to incorporate them into my tradition, change or modify my tradition or otherwise agree that certain tenets of my religious tradition are outdated. For example, in today's world, being open about one's sexuality (and/or homosexuality) is embraced. I imagine that Judaism would be criticized within this IFYC culture for its strong stance that homosexual activity is forbidden by God and I would be told to be open to all sexual diversity. Now, I can respect people who happen to be gay, but I will not accept that my religious tradition ought to change to fit the Western culture of our time.
It also troubles me that many of the fellows in the film are not necessarily the most learned in what their faith truly entails. Of the Jews represented, are any of them Orthodox? Do any of them believe in a Bible that came from God rather than one formed by a Redactor? How can you really serve as a representative of your faith when you are following a modified version of your faith to begin with? This isn't to say I don't respect Reform, Conservative, Reconstructionist, Renewal or other devotees of different affiliations of Judaism. I just wonder what it means to represent a faith if you yourself don't understand many of the tenets of that faith- or understand them only inasmuch as your professor has explained J,P,D and E to you.
In short, I am troubled by this movement and this video representation. I think it is beautiful a la Chief Rabbi Lord Jonathan Sacks' The Dignity of Difference. And yet I also wonder whether it is possible to remain part of an interfaith organization without compromising your own standards or indeed, your religious values. I, for example, while more than willing to learn from others with different faiths, would not be interested in raising money to fund a Jewish LGBT program. That would be deeply uncomfortable for me. And so I wonder whether one can truly serve as an IFYC fellow without comprising their identity- especially if they are observant or Orthodox- as a religious person, and in my case, as an Orthodox Jew.
The Purple Badge of Honor
Pretty much a year ago I told you about The Blue Badge of Honor.
Well, last night Mt. Sinai Shul here in Washington Heights held a blood drive and my iron was at 13.1 (yay for a good iron count) so I could give! And I got to wear the Purple Badge of Honor. The best part was when I asked my phlebotomist to tell me a story that happened to him due to his work. He told me that he met his wife at a blood drive! And now they are married and have a kid! I think that is one of the awesomest places ever to meet your wife.
Yay for Damn Sexy Blood Donors! Give some blood and join the Facebook group, or better yet, give platelets (I just found out about platelet donation yesterday and it sounds awesome!)
In other news, I hope you guys are still reading the Batya updates because Batya WALKED WITH A WALKER yesterday and it was awesome and the hospital staff cheered for her and basically life is fabulous.
Well, last night Mt. Sinai Shul here in Washington Heights held a blood drive and my iron was at 13.1 (yay for a good iron count) so I could give! And I got to wear the Purple Badge of Honor. The best part was when I asked my phlebotomist to tell me a story that happened to him due to his work. He told me that he met his wife at a blood drive! And now they are married and have a kid! I think that is one of the awesomest places ever to meet your wife.
Yay for Damn Sexy Blood Donors! Give some blood and join the Facebook group, or better yet, give platelets (I just found out about platelet donation yesterday and it sounds awesome!)
In other news, I hope you guys are still reading the Batya updates because Batya WALKED WITH A WALKER yesterday and it was awesome and the hospital staff cheered for her and basically life is fabulous.
Tuesday, December 14, 2010
Princeton
So.
I'm going to be in Princeton tomorrow. W00T.
Dear Random People of Princeton: Hi! Is your kosher cafeteria good? Come hang out with me. No, but seriously. Do any Princetonians read this blog?
~
Okay, scratch that- I'm not going to Princeton after all. But might be at the University of Pennsylvania on Thursday instead. Yippee.
I'm going to be in Princeton tomorrow. W00T.
Dear Random People of Princeton: Hi! Is your kosher cafeteria good? Come hang out with me. No, but seriously. Do any Princetonians read this blog?
~
Okay, scratch that- I'm not going to Princeton after all. But might be at the University of Pennsylvania on Thursday instead. Yippee.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Lechem
I generally prefer to use a Chumash that has the English translation because I like to know what I'm reading, but all my fun insights always occur when I only have the Hebrew in front of me. Point being that two weeks ago an idea occurred to me in shul during Torah reading regarding bread.
When Joseph is described in Vayeshev within context of Potiphar, Genesis 39:6 states:
ו וַיַּעֲזֹב כָּל-אֲשֶׁר-לוֹ, בְּיַד-יוֹסֵף, וְלֹא-יָדַע אִתּוֹ מְאוּמָה, כִּי אִם-הַלֶּחֶם אֲשֶׁר-הוּא אוֹכֵל; וַיְהִי יוֹסֵף, יְפֵה-תֹאַר וִיפֵה מַרְאֶה. 6 And he left all that he had in Joseph's hand; and, having him, he knew not aught save the bread which he did eat. And Joseph was of beautiful form, and fair to look upon.
Genesis Rabbah to that verse explain that "lechem" or "bread" is actually a euphemism for "wife." Rashi states: כי אם הלחם: היא אשתו, אלא שדבר בלשון נקיה: or 'That is his wife, but [Scripture] speaks euphemistically [Gen. Rabbah 86:6].' Potiphar gave everything he had to Joseph so that all of it was under his control except for his wife. This reading is supported when you look at Yisro's question to his daughters in Exodus 2:20 as to why they did not invite the kind Egyptian home "to give him bread," again a euphemism for a wife (hence Tzippora).
Now, as someone who favors the Midda Kneged Middah (measure for measure) approach to Tanakh, it occurred to me that there is a great deal of elegance in Joseph being imprisoned for not sampling the "bread" of his master, i.e. his wife. For it is Joseph who is then released from prison to save the bread of Egypt and prevent everyone from starving to death in the hunger that ensues. As the verses in Genesis 41: 54-55 declare:
נד וַתְּחִלֶּינָה שֶׁבַע שְׁנֵי הָרָעָב, לָבוֹא, כַּאֲשֶׁר, אָמַר יוֹסֵף; וַיְהִי רָעָב בְּכָל-הָאֲרָצוֹת, וּבְכָל-אֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם הָיָה לָחֶם. 54 And the seven years of famine began to come, according as Joseph had said; and there was famine in all lands; but in all the land of Egypt there was bread.
נה וַתִּרְעַב כָּל-אֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם, וַיִּצְעַק הָעָם אֶל-פַּרְעֹה לַלָּחֶם; וַיֹּאמֶר פַּרְעֹה לְכָל-מִצְרַיִם לְכוּ אֶל-יוֹסֵף, אֲשֶׁר-יֹאמַר לָכֶם תַּעֲשׂוּ. 55 And when all the land of Egypt was famished, the people cried to Pharaoh for bread; and Pharaoh said unto all the Egyptians: 'Go unto Joseph; what he saith to you, do.'
It's specifically bread that is mentioned in these verses. Not "ochel," food or "shever," corn, but "lechem," bread. It is only because Joseph refrained from eating the bread of his master (that is, sleeping with his wife) that he obtained the merit that enabled the bread of Egypt to be saved through him.
When Joseph is described in Vayeshev within context of Potiphar, Genesis 39:6 states:
ו וַיַּעֲזֹב כָּל-אֲשֶׁר-לוֹ, בְּיַד-יוֹסֵף, וְלֹא-יָדַע אִתּוֹ מְאוּמָה, כִּי אִם-הַלֶּחֶם אֲשֶׁר-הוּא אוֹכֵל; וַיְהִי יוֹסֵף, יְפֵה-תֹאַר וִיפֵה מַרְאֶה. 6 And he left all that he had in Joseph's hand; and, having him, he knew not aught save the bread which he did eat. And Joseph was of beautiful form, and fair to look upon.
Genesis Rabbah to that verse explain that "lechem" or "bread" is actually a euphemism for "wife." Rashi states: כי אם הלחם: היא אשתו, אלא שדבר בלשון נקיה: or 'That is his wife, but [Scripture] speaks euphemistically [Gen. Rabbah 86:6].' Potiphar gave everything he had to Joseph so that all of it was under his control except for his wife. This reading is supported when you look at Yisro's question to his daughters in Exodus 2:20 as to why they did not invite the kind Egyptian home "to give him bread," again a euphemism for a wife (hence Tzippora).
Now, as someone who favors the Midda Kneged Middah (measure for measure) approach to Tanakh, it occurred to me that there is a great deal of elegance in Joseph being imprisoned for not sampling the "bread" of his master, i.e. his wife. For it is Joseph who is then released from prison to save the bread of Egypt and prevent everyone from starving to death in the hunger that ensues. As the verses in Genesis 41: 54-55 declare:
נד וַתְּחִלֶּינָה שֶׁבַע שְׁנֵי הָרָעָב, לָבוֹא, כַּאֲשֶׁר, אָמַר יוֹסֵף; וַיְהִי רָעָב בְּכָל-הָאֲרָצוֹת, וּבְכָל-אֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם הָיָה לָחֶם. 54 And the seven years of famine began to come, according as Joseph had said; and there was famine in all lands; but in all the land of Egypt there was bread.
נה וַתִּרְעַב כָּל-אֶרֶץ מִצְרַיִם, וַיִּצְעַק הָעָם אֶל-פַּרְעֹה לַלָּחֶם; וַיֹּאמֶר פַּרְעֹה לְכָל-מִצְרַיִם לְכוּ אֶל-יוֹסֵף, אֲשֶׁר-יֹאמַר לָכֶם תַּעֲשׂוּ. 55 And when all the land of Egypt was famished, the people cried to Pharaoh for bread; and Pharaoh said unto all the Egyptians: 'Go unto Joseph; what he saith to you, do.'
It's specifically bread that is mentioned in these verses. Not "ochel," food or "shever," corn, but "lechem," bread. It is only because Joseph refrained from eating the bread of his master (that is, sleeping with his wife) that he obtained the merit that enabled the bread of Egypt to be saved through him.
Wednesday, December 01, 2010
Niddah: On Achilles, Magic Springs & Temper Tantrums
When I was learning about Niddah, I was particularly reminded of two different concepts. One was the myth of Achilles. Basically, Achilles needed to be bathed in a special spring to provide him immunity from all weapons so that he would be invincible and could not be harmed or killed. However, his mother held him by the heel, so that when he was immersed, that one part of him was not covered by the special healing water. Therefore, his weakness was his Achilles heel and that is how he eventually was murdered. This story also appears in Norse myth by Sigurd, who was bathing in dragon's blood that would make him invulnerable to all weapons and indeed make him immortal; however, a leaf fell on his back so that one spot became vulnerable to the touch of steel. The same concept, I believe, applies to our concept of chatzizah and how there cannot be one.
Secondly, I think that the two weeks of separation from one's husband leads to a very important lesson in understanding and compassion for our children, especially our toddlers. A child who has had his toy taken away from him, either unfairly by a sibling or friend, or deliberately by a parent, will get red in the face and scream loudly and unceasingly, "But I want it! I want my toy; I want my dolly!" This could be exasperating to a parent, especially if one has to sit through five hours of this. But when someone has to physically separate from one's spouse for a period of two weeks every month, they understand what their child feels like. They too have had their spouse unwillingly taken away from them by a higher power (God). They too feel like throwing temper tantrums and screaming, "But I want my husband. I want it." And thus this experience affords them compassion for their child and thus the needed understanding and patience to comprehend what the child is going through even as you realize the necessity of depriving him of that toy at that particular point in time.
Secondly, I think that the two weeks of separation from one's husband leads to a very important lesson in understanding and compassion for our children, especially our toddlers. A child who has had his toy taken away from him, either unfairly by a sibling or friend, or deliberately by a parent, will get red in the face and scream loudly and unceasingly, "But I want it! I want my toy; I want my dolly!" This could be exasperating to a parent, especially if one has to sit through five hours of this. But when someone has to physically separate from one's spouse for a period of two weeks every month, they understand what their child feels like. They too have had their spouse unwillingly taken away from them by a higher power (God). They too feel like throwing temper tantrums and screaming, "But I want my husband. I want it." And thus this experience affords them compassion for their child and thus the needed understanding and patience to comprehend what the child is going through even as you realize the necessity of depriving him of that toy at that particular point in time.
Sunday, November 28, 2010
"I Light It" - NCSY Chanukah Musical Remix 2010
What most people do the week before their wedding:
-Pray
-Frantically attend dress fittings
-Scream at their florists
-Break down in tears
-Call up all their friends
-Seem half-dazed
-Realize their wedding gown is actually a peculiar shade of magenta and therefore do a fascinating imitation of a charging rhino
-Pray
-Frantically attend dress fittings
-Scream at their florists
-Break down in tears
-Call up all their friends
-Seem half-dazed
-Realize their wedding gown is actually a peculiar shade of magenta and therefore do a fascinating imitation of a charging rhino
-Realize they broke the heel of their white satin shoes
-Have dress rehearsals
-Frantically redo the menu
What Olivia Friedman does the week before her wedding:
-Wanders around the entirety of Manhattan (and the odd bit of Brooklyn) alongside Avi Stahler, Alisa Ungar-Sargon and Rachely holding huge signs that say 'Be A Part of Our Holiday YouTube Film.' For two days.
What Olivia Friedman does the week before her wedding:
-Wanders around the entirety of Manhattan (and the odd bit of Brooklyn) alongside Avi Stahler, Alisa Ungar-Sargon and Rachely holding huge signs that say 'Be A Part of Our Holiday YouTube Film.' For two days.
-Asks people to dance in said film and then dances alongside them when they are too nervous/ scared/ uncomfortable dancing alone. Is later edited out of the movie version except for the odd waving hand.
-Explains to people that the film is appropriate, G-rated and exists to support holiday cheer.
-Tells the group that they will get free t-shirts if they dance for us, which means she makes friends with lots of happy homeless people.
Check it out- it's the ultimate dance party!
Check it out- it's the ultimate dance party!
Friday, November 26, 2010
Tears & Toiveling
I love my husband.
It makes me happy to be able to say that word. Husband. I think: Really? I have a husband? I'm a wife? I'm his wife? How does that work? How can that be? And then I think: How did that happen?
And then I mostly reach a place of wonder and confusion. How bizarre that I should have wandered through Templars, attended North Shore Country Day, blazed my way through the Stern newspaper, met Jordan and reconciled myself more to the beauty that is also existent in the more Haredi world and finally encountered Heshy, another person who walks both worlds. How fascinating it is that the one decision to attend Stern College as opposed to the University of Chicago impacted my life so strongly. This one decision that I owe primarily to my father's tears.
Had I not attended Stern, I would never have met the many Jewish people who have become very close friends of mine, would not have been privileged to form the friendships that have sustained me, would never have encountered the Haredi world again, let alone left behind much of my bitterness, would not have found myself attending Revel...there are innumerable ways in which my life has been dramatically changed simply because of this move to New York.
And this leads me to think about tears. Because the whole reason I decided to attend Stern (aside from the scholarship, which was much appreciated) was because of my father having cried. We often speak of the power of tears and how they can penetrate anything. That God leaves the gates of tears open. But I wonder how often one can see a direct relation between the tears cried and the life path of a person.
In my case, however, it's pretty clear.
Heshy's a fantastic person and he's also a fantastic husband! He builds desks and bookcases alongside his awesome friend Yitzchok, runs back and forth to grocery stores to buy us food, lugs packages up five flights of stairs, went to the mikvah three times yesterday (in the rain! and up and down the huge hill!) to toivel things for me, returns items when I don't like them, doesn't complain about having to wander around half the world in pursuit of what we need, encourages me to actually eat food (something I generally neglect to do), is a great listener and is just in all ways the most helpful, kind, lovely person ever. And this, of course, is from the small things he does because we don't say a person's full praise in their presence.
The point is: Heshy's awesome, my father's tears led to my life working out in strange and mysterious ways and I am a happy person.
It makes me happy to be able to say that word. Husband. I think: Really? I have a husband? I'm a wife? I'm his wife? How does that work? How can that be? And then I think: How did that happen?
And then I mostly reach a place of wonder and confusion. How bizarre that I should have wandered through Templars, attended North Shore Country Day, blazed my way through the Stern newspaper, met Jordan and reconciled myself more to the beauty that is also existent in the more Haredi world and finally encountered Heshy, another person who walks both worlds. How fascinating it is that the one decision to attend Stern College as opposed to the University of Chicago impacted my life so strongly. This one decision that I owe primarily to my father's tears.
Had I not attended Stern, I would never have met the many Jewish people who have become very close friends of mine, would not have been privileged to form the friendships that have sustained me, would never have encountered the Haredi world again, let alone left behind much of my bitterness, would not have found myself attending Revel...there are innumerable ways in which my life has been dramatically changed simply because of this move to New York.
And this leads me to think about tears. Because the whole reason I decided to attend Stern (aside from the scholarship, which was much appreciated) was because of my father having cried. We often speak of the power of tears and how they can penetrate anything. That God leaves the gates of tears open. But I wonder how often one can see a direct relation between the tears cried and the life path of a person.
In my case, however, it's pretty clear.
Heshy's a fantastic person and he's also a fantastic husband! He builds desks and bookcases alongside his awesome friend Yitzchok, runs back and forth to grocery stores to buy us food, lugs packages up five flights of stairs, went to the mikvah three times yesterday (in the rain! and up and down the huge hill!) to toivel things for me, returns items when I don't like them, doesn't complain about having to wander around half the world in pursuit of what we need, encourages me to actually eat food (something I generally neglect to do), is a great listener and is just in all ways the most helpful, kind, lovely person ever. And this, of course, is from the small things he does because we don't say a person's full praise in their presence.
The point is: Heshy's awesome, my father's tears led to my life working out in strange and mysterious ways and I am a happy person.
Wednesday, November 24, 2010
In Which Science Catches Up To Fairy Tales
See New York Times article "A Safe Haven in Cartoon Confidants" (hat-tip Muffins) and compare to Brothers Grimm story "The Goose Girl," excerpt below:
~
Then came a blast of wind and carried off Conrad's hat, so that he had to run far away, while the maiden quietly went on combing and braiding her hair, all of which the king observed. Then, quite unseen, he went away, and when the goose-girl came home in the evening, he called her aside, and asked why she did all these things.
"I am not allowed to tell you, nor can I reveal my sorrows to any human being, for I have sworn under the open heaven not to do so, and if I had not so sworn, I would have been killed."
He urged her and left her no peace, but he could get nothing from her. Finally he said, "If you will not tell me anything, then tell your sorrows to the iron stove there," and he went away.
So she crept into the iron stove, and began to cry sorrowfully, pouring out her whole heart. She said, "Here I sit, abandoned by the whole world, although I am the daughter of a king. A false chambermaid forced me to take off my royal clothes, and she has taken my place with my bridegroom. Now I have to do common work as a goose-girl. If my mother this, her heart would break in two."
The old king was standing outside listening by the stovepipe, and he heard what she said. Then he came back inside, and asked her to come out of the stove. Then they dressed her in royal clothes, and it was marvelous how beautiful she was.
The old king summoned his son and revealed to him that he had a false bride who was only a chambermaid, but that the true one was standing there, the one who had been a goose-girl.
~
The iron stove is now an Antenas- that's about all the difference there is to it.
~
Then came a blast of wind and carried off Conrad's hat, so that he had to run far away, while the maiden quietly went on combing and braiding her hair, all of which the king observed. Then, quite unseen, he went away, and when the goose-girl came home in the evening, he called her aside, and asked why she did all these things.
"I am not allowed to tell you, nor can I reveal my sorrows to any human being, for I have sworn under the open heaven not to do so, and if I had not so sworn, I would have been killed."
He urged her and left her no peace, but he could get nothing from her. Finally he said, "If you will not tell me anything, then tell your sorrows to the iron stove there," and he went away.
So she crept into the iron stove, and began to cry sorrowfully, pouring out her whole heart. She said, "Here I sit, abandoned by the whole world, although I am the daughter of a king. A false chambermaid forced me to take off my royal clothes, and she has taken my place with my bridegroom. Now I have to do common work as a goose-girl. If my mother this, her heart would break in two."
The old king was standing outside listening by the stovepipe, and he heard what she said. Then he came back inside, and asked her to come out of the stove. Then they dressed her in royal clothes, and it was marvelous how beautiful she was.
The old king summoned his son and revealed to him that he had a false bride who was only a chambermaid, but that the true one was standing there, the one who had been a goose-girl.
~
The iron stove is now an Antenas- that's about all the difference there is to it.
Overcoming Adversity
Many of you recall the posts I have written referencing The Golden-Haired Girl.
You probably also remember my frustration regarding Dates & Disabilities.
Then there's the part where my Golden-Haired Girl turned her supposed disability into an asset.
Well, my Golden-Haired Girl got married last night- exactly one week to the day of my own wedding.That was very special for me as it reminded me of the concept of Shemini Atzeres. We are taught that we have 7 days of Sukkot and then God wished to add on one more day because He loves His people so much that he doesn't want to let them go- so He creates an additional day of celebration in order to keep them near Him. It was amazing that Heshy and I were still in Sheva Brachos and then voila! We're attending our dear friends' simcha to hear their Sheva Brachos. It felt like an extension of our own joy.
The wedding was absolutely beautiful. The Golden-Haired Girl is the last child in her family to get married and so the celebration was truly intense. Whether it was the incredibly elaborate smorgasbord, the otherworldly feel (the entire hotel had been transformed into a wonderland complete with hanging votive candles, glorious flowers and glittering tablecloths) or the incredibly amazing magician-dancer- fire-eater who provided a great deal of the (wonderful!) shtick, the wedding was really lively, happy and a wonderful opportunity to celebrate the union of two people whom the world did wrong to pity.
You probably also remember my frustration regarding Dates & Disabilities.
Then there's the part where my Golden-Haired Girl turned her supposed disability into an asset.
Well, my Golden-Haired Girl got married last night- exactly one week to the day of my own wedding.That was very special for me as it reminded me of the concept of Shemini Atzeres. We are taught that we have 7 days of Sukkot and then God wished to add on one more day because He loves His people so much that he doesn't want to let them go- so He creates an additional day of celebration in order to keep them near Him. It was amazing that Heshy and I were still in Sheva Brachos and then voila! We're attending our dear friends' simcha to hear their Sheva Brachos. It felt like an extension of our own joy.
The wedding was absolutely beautiful. The Golden-Haired Girl is the last child in her family to get married and so the celebration was truly intense. Whether it was the incredibly elaborate smorgasbord, the otherworldly feel (the entire hotel had been transformed into a wonderland complete with hanging votive candles, glorious flowers and glittering tablecloths) or the incredibly amazing magician-dancer- fire-eater who provided a great deal of the (wonderful!) shtick, the wedding was really lively, happy and a wonderful opportunity to celebrate the union of two people whom the world did wrong to pity.
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Welcome To The First Day Of Your Life
This is me with lots of Hasidim during my Mitzvah Tantz. Also, probably a picture you never expected to see on this blog.
Which just goes to show that life is a journey and you never end up where you think you will. That growth is imperative. That Heshy is wonderful. And that God decided I should be happy.
~"Waiting for the End" by Linkin Park
Just open up your eyes as I lay you down tonight
Safe on the other side, no more tears to cry
~"Open Up Your Eyes" by Daughtry
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Married Married Married MARRIED!
AM
GETTING
MARRIED
TODAY
(TO
THE MOST WONDERFUL
PERSON
EVER
WHO ALSO
HAPPENS
TO BE
MY SOULMATE!)
SQUEE!!!!!!!!!
Sunday, November 14, 2010
Fusion
Dear God,
You who formed me and who knew me throughout every period of my life, who saw me as I gurgled and played and sucked at the breast, who watched me grow and transform my toybox into a spaceship, who witnessed my impotent fury in the shape of my bully and the subtle savagery of my high school administration, who has seen me hate You, then come close to You, then rage at you again, who has indeed given me a gift of this rage...as it is my passion that allows me to walk at all...what shall we say now?
You listened to my prayer. I can't tell You what that means to me, to know that I was heard and answered precisely as I requested. You knew what I could and could not stand and You decided I had had enough exactly when I called to You and insisted upon the same. And now I stand before the threshold of the entrance to Your glory and You will come to dwell upon my marriage canopy. And Heshy and I will look up and behold of the radiance of Your countenance and we will feel glad and small simultaneously. For You are Awesome and yet you are loving and it is in You and with You that we commune. It is no coincidence, the day that we are marrying- the day when we first discussed You.
I love that You matched us so perfectly well. I love that he comes from a background utterly different from mine, that I can walk new vistas and new worlds with him. I love his stubbornness and pride and commitment to truth. I love that he found me on his own. I love that he loves You.
And I'm awaiting the fusion. There can be no joining of the physical without a union of souls, which is why the soul mourns so long and grievously for those they lose. You have caused me to grieve and you know I still do and perhaps I always shall because with each friend we form, with each loss we endure, we lose a little piece of our souls. But then you made Heshy. And you gave him a great and impossible grace, an ability to restore my soul to me and make it resemble a whole one once more. The broken pieces remain because without them, I would not be as You had shaped me and my life would not have been one worth its living. You made him clever with his needle and supple with the weft and loom so that he would be able to knit me back together and cause me to live again.
It was You who granted him to me and thus it is You that I must thank and to whom I should address the outpouring of my soul. You are the God of my tradition, my religion, my parents, forefathers, life and soul and you decided that Heshy and I should join together in order to become something more than we are when apart. My soul is both afraid of and thrilled by the prospect of rejoining its match...my soul longs always, for that is how You created me, yearning. If I did not want, if I did not hunger, if I ceased to wish for that which is not yet, I would not be me. And while there is much good that comes of this, there is some evil as well, and that I must work on in order to rectify.
What is clear, though, is that this prospect of fusion, this terrifying and fascinating way in which the soul and body return to one another and become lovers once more, is one of the greatest gifts that You can give and it is one that is special and shall be treasured. My soul has always wished to be complete and now it can be (inasmuch as my soul can ever be) and in that lies a great and terrible beauty, a path so mysterious that I cannot fathom it.
Thank You for your compassion and for hearing me and please bless us to follow You in accordance to Your way and afford us the clarity of vision to know right from wrong and to learn how to repent fully for the harms and wrongs we have done each other and humanity at large.
An echo of a forgotten thought for You, God, if slightly bitter: "I hope I love You all my life."
And I hope you teach me peace and contentment and joy with the life You have chosen to give me. For you know, as Frost did:
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
A luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I hope that now I can begin to become acquainted with sunshine. Heshy lights the darkness in my soul; he offers joy where I set a table of despair. My sweetmeats are made of sadness and his are of love; my bread and water is melancholy whereas his is gladness. I hope he saves me from the dark for a long time yet and I hope as well that You enable me to be worthy of him. May I illuminate his life as he does mine; may we be phosphorus to one another's fire. And may I love him. Amen.
You who formed me and who knew me throughout every period of my life, who saw me as I gurgled and played and sucked at the breast, who watched me grow and transform my toybox into a spaceship, who witnessed my impotent fury in the shape of my bully and the subtle savagery of my high school administration, who has seen me hate You, then come close to You, then rage at you again, who has indeed given me a gift of this rage...as it is my passion that allows me to walk at all...what shall we say now?
You listened to my prayer. I can't tell You what that means to me, to know that I was heard and answered precisely as I requested. You knew what I could and could not stand and You decided I had had enough exactly when I called to You and insisted upon the same. And now I stand before the threshold of the entrance to Your glory and You will come to dwell upon my marriage canopy. And Heshy and I will look up and behold of the radiance of Your countenance and we will feel glad and small simultaneously. For You are Awesome and yet you are loving and it is in You and with You that we commune. It is no coincidence, the day that we are marrying- the day when we first discussed You.
I love that You matched us so perfectly well. I love that he comes from a background utterly different from mine, that I can walk new vistas and new worlds with him. I love his stubbornness and pride and commitment to truth. I love that he found me on his own. I love that he loves You.
And I'm awaiting the fusion. There can be no joining of the physical without a union of souls, which is why the soul mourns so long and grievously for those they lose. You have caused me to grieve and you know I still do and perhaps I always shall because with each friend we form, with each loss we endure, we lose a little piece of our souls. But then you made Heshy. And you gave him a great and impossible grace, an ability to restore my soul to me and make it resemble a whole one once more. The broken pieces remain because without them, I would not be as You had shaped me and my life would not have been one worth its living. You made him clever with his needle and supple with the weft and loom so that he would be able to knit me back together and cause me to live again.
It was You who granted him to me and thus it is You that I must thank and to whom I should address the outpouring of my soul. You are the God of my tradition, my religion, my parents, forefathers, life and soul and you decided that Heshy and I should join together in order to become something more than we are when apart. My soul is both afraid of and thrilled by the prospect of rejoining its match...my soul longs always, for that is how You created me, yearning. If I did not want, if I did not hunger, if I ceased to wish for that which is not yet, I would not be me. And while there is much good that comes of this, there is some evil as well, and that I must work on in order to rectify.
What is clear, though, is that this prospect of fusion, this terrifying and fascinating way in which the soul and body return to one another and become lovers once more, is one of the greatest gifts that You can give and it is one that is special and shall be treasured. My soul has always wished to be complete and now it can be (inasmuch as my soul can ever be) and in that lies a great and terrible beauty, a path so mysterious that I cannot fathom it.
Thank You for your compassion and for hearing me and please bless us to follow You in accordance to Your way and afford us the clarity of vision to know right from wrong and to learn how to repent fully for the harms and wrongs we have done each other and humanity at large.
An echo of a forgotten thought for You, God, if slightly bitter: "I hope I love You all my life."
And I hope you teach me peace and contentment and joy with the life You have chosen to give me. For you know, as Frost did:
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I have walked out in rain -- and back in rain.
I have outwalked the furthest city light.
I have looked down the saddest city lane.
I have passed by the watchman on his beat
And dropped my eyes, unwilling to explain.
I have stood still and stopped the sound of feet
When far away an interrupted cry
Came over houses from another street,
But not to call me back or say good-bye;
And further still at an unearthly height,
A luminary clock against the sky
Proclaimed the time was neither wrong nor right.
I have been one acquainted with the night.
I hope that now I can begin to become acquainted with sunshine. Heshy lights the darkness in my soul; he offers joy where I set a table of despair. My sweetmeats are made of sadness and his are of love; my bread and water is melancholy whereas his is gladness. I hope he saves me from the dark for a long time yet and I hope as well that You enable me to be worthy of him. May I illuminate his life as he does mine; may we be phosphorus to one another's fire. And may I love him. Amen.
Almost Bride
As an Almost-Bride, I feel excited. Happy. Formerly, anxious and nervous, but that's passed by now. And also very pure because of the beautiful waters that anoint me. And Heshy is going to be married to me! And life will be so happy and beautiful and I will be so glad because Heshy is an angel who somehow manages to make the sun shine no matter the situation. And I love Heshy. And he is fantastic. And I love that our wedding is going to contain a mix of streimels, kippot srugot and those with no headcovering at all. I love that we get to have a wedding where all of God's human creations sit side by side one another and we get to celebrate love, life and humanity together joyously. Which thrills me and makes me glad! Hurrah for the Acheinu that is our wedding.
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