Stepping stones in the Japanese Garden

 In Maymont park there is a Japanese garden, centered around a lake. There is bamboo, stone sculptures, a small pergola on the water, bridges, and round stepping stones connecting the shore to an island. This was the first Japanese garden I experienced and it set the tone for me for all the other Japanese gardens. There is always a lively wait for the stepping stones: somebody is coming, somebody is going, somebody is changing their mind while blocking everyone else, but there are always people lining up to experince this walk across the water. When I was single, every time I came to the garden, I couldn't wait to walk across, even knowing where the distance between the stones lengthens and one needs to reach further in the next step. When my kids were younger, we occasionally visited. The children were drawn to the stones like magnets and the distances seemed periliously far. All of a sudden, there was a calculation: do I want to risk a child getting wet in this weather? Do I have a change of clothes? Will they be able to hop across on their own? Where do I leave the stroller? Do I go after them, or stay back and wait till they circle across the bridge and around the lake? 

Once everyone was older and wiser, the stepping stones became a relief. Now the adventure were the kids getting lost in the bamboo on the hillside, climbing up and down the nearby waterfall. The stones were a quick detour.

During the pandemic, Maymont became a relief in the sense that this was a safe outdoor place. Then someone noticed the perpetual congestion by the stepping stones, and the path across the island was closed. Life came to a standstill.

Now all of that is behind us. I simply wanted to go to Maymont because it is spring and it is beautiful. I was suffering from a deficit of nature and wide horizons beyond the computer screen. None of the children wanted to come. I did not push and insist but I was sad. It didn't help that everywhere there were families lining up, taking those spring family photos, all matchy outfits, smiling, saying cheese, rosy cheeks and giggles...

I wanted to go to the gardens, to the water. Before the park opened, we spotted some deer through the fence, hanging out by the lake. By the time we came to that area, the deer were long gone.

When we got to the stones, for the first time in my life, I did not rush to go across. I wanted to give others the space to go, take photos, take their time, and not be rushed. After we crossed, I sat in the pergola and watched more people cross.

A couple that crossesd before us stood out. The woman went ahead, but after a few steps, she hesitated. The man was snapping her photos. "Are you scared?" he asked. "A little," she answered. I don't think they said much more until they were all the way across.

These stones and the path are a metaphor for life. Some rush right across, some never go. Some walk with others, some alone. Some feel the need to comment on every step, some go in silence. Some parents carry their kids across, some allow independence or recklessness. Some feel the need to instruct and warn. Some stop along the way for selfies, looking at themselves. Some stop to observe large koi swimming by, looking out. Some go against the current. Some get chastised for this. Some don't seem to care.

While all of this is happening, the stones are the same and the lake is the same. The stones are never getting closer or farther apart. The lake is placid, safe for a ripple caused by the wind.

"Are you scared?"
"A little."

I have asked myself this questions many times. I have answered it both in the affirmative and in the negative. I have berated myself for not being braver, stronger, quicker, for not crossing in the coolest way, for blocking others, for making a fool out of myself. Even during this walk, I was silently angry that I was not able to prevail and bring/drag/bribe/exhort my children into coming along. I was crossing those stones bereft of my sharing this experience, this insight with them.

"Are you scared?"
"A little."

Such kindness, such grace in this question and answer exchange. I wish someone else would ask me whether I were scared to do all these things, whether I were scared that the children are drifting away, that the family is drifting apart. I wish I had a space to acknowledge my fear before I would step
on those stones because this is the path through the garden of insight.

Yom Hazikaron 2022

Mothers

Yearning

Children grown

Hoping

Aliyah

Your homeland

All in

Lone soldiers safe and sound

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Tiny House Living

 I have been obsessed with tiny houses (and tiny cars) for a very long time. Ever since I've seen a smart car, seating a whopping two people and taking up so little space, I just really wanted to drive one. As far as the tiny houses, I am simply fascinated by the idea of scaling everything down, paring possessions to bare essentials, occupying less space.

My previous house was close to 4000 square feet, sprawled over three stories, plentiful bedrooms, bathrooms, large open-plan kitchen with two of everything. My current house is about 1500 square feet. If I divide it by six daily occupants, I get 250 sq. feet per person. If I include my husband's occupancy, I get 214 sq. feet. These numbers are on par of tiny house square footage. But the current house we are in is not so tiny.

If I am living in a less than dreamy version of a tiny house, why am I still browsing those books? I do it to get ideas and inspiration. Currently, I am using my crockpot as an additional oven to bake stuffed cabbage. I set up a table in the living room as an overflow counter for pre yom tov cooking and baking.

I also learned which things I cannot compromise on. I need two fridges because we go through an insane amount of gallons of milk. I need a full-size washer and dryer because I much rather do fewer large loads than throw some clothes in every day. I will sacrifice cabinet space for a dishwasher, and, hypothetically, two of them. I need to have a creative space where my projects and supplies can sprawl out and not be cleaned up every day.

I am moving from making this small space work to enjoying it and claiming it as my own. Our house will not be featured anywhere, but it is comfortable and cozy enough.

Bar Keeper's Friend

 I have discovered a new cleaning remedy, rather, finally bought it and started using it. It is called Bar Keeper's Friend. It's a white powder that comes in a cylindrical container that looks a whole lot like Comet (does anyone even use Comet any more?) I have joked with my husband that it is probably Comet, rebranded to look hipper. This white powder is magic. It removes stains, burnt-on grease, funky deposits. It made my stainless steel frying pan look like new. It removes scuff marks off the ceramic cooktop. It made my sink gleam and shine like a commercial.

Look at this! What's not to like? Why have I not bought this product sooner? Tell your friends!

Except that I happen to know myself. Housekeeping and keeping a clean pristine sparkly shiny house is nowhere on my list of priorities. I clean and get kids to clean once a week, for shabbos. Some of my kids complain that even that is too much. I have no problem going to sleep with a sink full of dirty dishes, mask-making scraps all over the floor, living room not straightened up. Nobody is visiting, nobody had come over in months, so there is no external need to clean that I can pin it on.

Where is this urge to clean coming from? 

I have learned that whenever I end up super-focusing on keeping external in order, even going to the extremes, the cause is the things that I cannot control. I cannot control Corona. I cannot control my kids from getting coughs, colds, fevers. I cannot control what other parents do about their kids, whether they are just as scrupulous about masks and exposure as I am. I cannot control this year's Rosh HaShana experience, neither for myself nor for the kids. Yesterday the power went out for a bit, and I could not get a head start on dinner on that gleaming electric stove. 

I am spinning further and further in the world where there are things I cannot control. But I can polish that stupid bit of sink, burn off those stains, vacuum up those cloth clippings. Do those things make me feel better? Are they a healthy sublimation of frustration? Better to focus on the things that I can fret over myself instead of suddenly coming down on my kids with high cleaning standards.

I have been thinking how Rosh HaShanah is almost here but I am involved in Pesach-like activity of cleaning and burning. For recognizing that Hashem is the One in charge (and I am not), I might be doing quite well. Then I wonder whether substituting external cleaning for internal reflection is not exactly where the spirit of the day lies. But this cleaning spree resulted in me thinking and pondering how I arrived here, jolted me awake from survival slumber.

So buy Bar Keeper's Friend and see where it lands you.

Corona and Tisha BeAv

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It is erev Tisha beAv. Except that we are living in a time where the very essence of time shifted, switched, became elastic. Days blend one into another, hours melt, distorted, like Dali clocks, minutes simultaneously gallop by and stretch into molasses. The very rhythms of the Jewish year seem meaningless. We are given Three Weeks during the summer to mourn about the destruction of the Beit Hamikdash (The Temple), culminating in the saddest day of tragedy: Tisha BeAv. But this year is not like any other year. Since the lockdown began in March, we have been in a modified state of mourning. We are not allowed to gather together socially, which is one of the essential messages of Tisha BeAv, reflected in the minhagim of not having company during Three Weeks, eating the last meal alone, without zimun, and not greeting each other. We were unable to get haircuts because hair cutting is not essential. The laundering of clothes and general grooming/bathing fell by the wayside, as very few saw us both inside our houses and out. The listening to live music ceased because there was simply no more live music. Taking pleasurable, distracting trips became impossible because there were no places to go. The mask became a constant physical reminder of our current state, similar to the black worn by mourners.

The causes and reasons for Tisha BeAv are numerous. Five are famously mentioned, with a dictum that "calamity occurs on a day of calamity" applied widely. In some ways, we are left with severe punishment from Hashem, of a different order of magnitude than any other punishment, and are left to reconstruct what went wrong and what was so horrible that we are still picking up the pieces, all these many millennia later.

As a recoup, the "original sin" was that of the spies, slandering Israel and causing people to cry in their tents. Somehow this melting of the hearts aroused a degree of Divine anger not experienced previously. The verdict was that the entire nation would spend 40 years in the desert until that generation would die out.

That sin was followed by the destruction of both Temples. The reasons given are that people didn't keep mitzvot during first one, and engaged in baseless hatred during the second one. Gemara seems to list a few other less popular opinions. Again, it seems that we are left with a verdict while trying to reconstruct what is the defect in need of correction.

For the past few days, I have been feeling disoriented. Every morning I woke up, wondering whether today is Tisha BeAv. Every day I got my morning coffee in this funny state of feeling that I'm transgressing. Yesterday, as I walked and sun was heading towards sunset, I felt a certain resignation, almost as if my dinner was that final meal before the fast. This is not how I normally experience Three Weeks. I do not believe in asceticism, or need for prolonged and excessive suffering. I do not relish fasting or mourning. One of my resolutions after a year of mourning for my father was over, was to attend every wedding that I could. So I was taken aback with personal eagerness and anticipation of more pain, more restrictions.

I wonder if living in a constant state of minor mourning desensitized me and is behind this anticipation of greater emotion. But I realized one more thing:

-Three Weeks and Tisha BeAv are finite. We go through concentric circles of deeper mourning, focusing all our energy of yearning for Jerusalem until the Tenth of Av comes. Then we remove all the symbols of mourning and experience joy. There is no gradual decrease (unless you count half a day of Tenth, but not this year because Shabbos pushes everything off). We are free to rejoice and encouraged not to mourn excessively.

-The lockdown is the opposite. It's mild, it can be almost put out of mind, but it has no ending point. We do not know when we will be able to do all those social activities fully, without reservations. Those who jump the gun and do them anyway are not viewed as acting wisely. So the state of minor mourning and separation continues, without an end in sight.

The tenth of Av this year will bring laundry and morning coffee. It will not bring weddings, bar and bat mitzvahs, 7 Haftarot of consolation, music performances, summer vacations, fun outings, amusement parks. We will still be in the same state of social mourning that we had been until now.

So how do we get out of this? 

Wear a mask, stay away from others as much as possible, listen to the sound advice of medical experts, and look out for others, even if you cannot see them in person. We all need to leave our mourning world. It will happen, but it is up to us how long it will take.

Getting over the hump

Many years ago, a seasoned homeschool friend told me about homeschooling humps that everyone hits in November and February and how, instead of making drastic decisions because nothing feels like it's working, there might be sense in waiting it out, giving it a go, and not assuming that something is terribly wrong. I really valued that advice because, like clockwork, I hit those humps. They felt terrible. I felt terrible as a teacher, as a mother, as a person. Moreover, I was not even sure that my kids would not have been better off in school somewhere, under someone else's care. I would be working, plugging in nine to five and be a productive member of the society. And the torture and drudgery would cease. Usually, when I waited just long enough, and reset enough, I would overcome those humps and would go back to star-eyed homeschool devotee, trying to convince others to give it a try.

Around the time that I had my youngest, I hit a major hump. With child number five, I thought I was an old pro at this whole parenting and homeschooling and getting balance thing. I gave it time. I waited. I schemed and arranged. I sent this one to school, these ones to preschool, this one out. I demanded support and cleaning help in the house. I searched for babysitters and nannies. I tried online school. I even tried moving into a different community, hoping that being within walking distance from the park and JCC and other frum homeschoolers will make a difference. Yet the hump kept on not getting smaller. I just could not go over it.

I was desperate.

I was depressed.

I was so miserable that I made a decision to send all the children to school, including the youngest, in the middle of the year just so I could get a reset. I sent them all out, but I did not recapture that feeling of peace that I was after. I breathed, but it was shallow panting.

Then, the following year, I kept my second child home and sent everyone else to school. It was clear by this point that whatever issues my child was having had nothing to do with my educational approach and that he needed homeschooling/unschooling to function. In fact, I started out again in the place of desperation: there was no good school to send him to. It was a year of hell, for many private and personal reasons. I felt like I was still climbing over the hump, out of breath, and miserable.

This year I have two at home. It is not perfect. But it is significantly better. They get along really well. They are content, for the most part. My daughter picked up reading. My son is (finally!) expressing interest in trying out things that he never would have attempted before. I am slowly, slowly rebuilding myself. I do not doubt myself anymore, not today, at least. When the kids are happy, momma is happy. They are also older, can be left at home alone, can work independently. I can get out, take a walk, run errands, make it to appointments on my own.

It only took me good three years, but I think I am getting over this hump.

I am glad that we live at a time with long life expectancy. I can afford the luxury of spending this part of my life on homeschooling, and then still feel like there will be plenty of time to work, develop interests, get involved in projects.

On feeling weak

Think:

Who benefits from you feeling down? Who gets to feel strong as long as you feel weak? Whose narrative do you feed into as long as you are not at your top capacity? And who is standing in the way of your hoping and dreaming?

These might not be conscious. Some of these might be sabotage from within because you were fed a narrative that these things are not for you. Some of these come from your nearest and dearest because of the familiarity of the sentiments.

Be curious about it. Explore it without judgement or fear. Let the answers come to you.

Thoughts on emunah and bitachon.

Relax.

Take a break.

Have a breather.

Stop and smell the flowers.

Take care of yourself. Put yourself first.

I have written many times about self-care and how that seems to be impossible to achieve. Today is one of those days that sounds almost like a comedy, were I not in the midst of if.

I have overscheduled, but I was counting on two adults being home and dividing up all the driving and all the prep and all the emotional labor between two people. But my husband got called up into the hospital for a VBAC that became a c-section. It is almost 3 pm and I have not seen him yet today, let alone him doing any of the things that were planned for today.

I know how these days play out: I will be emotionally going offline just as my younger kids will be coming back home and "unloading" from their day of interactions. Those once a week gymnastics that I signed all four kids for will seem like an unnecessary torture instead of a pleasant activity. I will end up being short-tempered because that's what happens when dinner is not served until 7 and then they still need a bath. And then my husband might want to unwind, too. And my mother will grumble how fine, she will martyr herself, we should go out, have fun, attend a lecture... and all want to do is crawl under my covers at 5 pm just as it will be getting dark with a good book or with a mindless magazine, but with a sense of completion of the day.

These realities crashing with my needs will be painful. I am really awed by those who manage to balance their needs with the needs of their families. I am also not so sure whether everyone is faking it, or those who claim to have it balanced really squelch somebody's needs down.

We are often told to have emunah, loosely translated as faith. Having any troubles in your life? work on your emunah. Things feel overwhelming? Your emunah is lacking. What I am really after is bitachon (security). Bitachon is a firm belief, backed by facts and realities on the ground. Bitachon is knowing that there are others who will catch you if you falter. Bitachon is knowing with certainty that you are not alone.Bitachon does not mean that there are no troubles, but bitachon is knowing, deeply and fully knowing, that things will turn out OK. Emunah causes anxiety, emunah is blind trust. Bitachon is lack of anxiety because there is no point in worrying (NOT an absence of worrying!)

I am a bit allergic to emunah, but I can squarely get behind bitachon.

(Yes, I know that G-d runs the show, that he is involved in my life, that everything is for the best, that it is easier to believe G-d won't give you more than you can handle, that it is all a test, that I should not sweat small stuff, be grateful for what I have. However, until these resonate as truths and not as platitudes, they are pointless)

Priorities

There is this harmful and damaging myth that one (especially a woman) can do it all and do it all with a smile. This myth leaves so many of us crying out in frustration because we are trying to do the best that we can, with the resources that we have, yet somehow we are constantly bombarded with the messages that we are not enough. We are not doing enough, not caring enough, not volunteering enough, not healthy enough, not happy enough... Notice that I am avoiding such things like being thin enough, put together enough, or rich enough. I sort of hope that we have stopped comparing ourselves with others or realized that it is a pointless task. But what about all these other areas, that are immaterial and seem so important?

It is a matter of priorities and those priorities are constantly shifting. I will throw out there some choices that I made today, possibly not "correctly enough", but I hope that my disclosure will make all realize that you do you, and don't worry about others doing it bigger and better.

I was jetlagged, so I am relying on challah from my freezer plus assorted pitas and bagels for shabbos. I am not making challah from scratch.

I wanted to take the homeschool kids out today, so I had to cook the bulk of shabbos last night. No aroma of homemade prep in my house this Friday.

I wanted to go walking, collect beautiful fall leaves and maybe do that leaf watercolor activity, but the kids' eyes lit when I mentioned Gem and Mineral Show. I wanted them to attend a workshop on gem identification, but they were more interested in wandering between the vendors, looking at the stones and fossils, and conversing about them. I prioritized a pleasant time at the show over the educational component. Also, since I took the kids today, I will not be taking the younger kids to the same show on Sunday. On the plus side, for once I did not have to worry about losing kids in the crowds, or constantly reminding not to touch and look with your eyes, not your hands.

I wanted to get a chunk of homeschool work done in the morning before the show, but the basement was in a hair-raising state, so I asked them to clean it up as a birthday present for me over buying me yet another set of earrings or a necklace from the show. I also saw that I have their cooperation in cleaning because they did not seem overwhelmed by the mess.

I wanted 12 yo to do laining, but math ended up taking more time, partly because I saw that one of the concepts needed additional practice and he admitted to not understanding how to work it out. I wanted to show him a complete solution, but he wanted to take over and do his mental math as soon as he understood what needed to be done.

I wanted to have a homemade lunch, but we left late for the show, hung out there longer than I thought it would take, and so I ended up grabbing random food before driving more carpool. No, I did not pack lunch or snacks. I did not even grab my water bottle.

I wanted to do my nails before shabbos, but I chose to be blogging.

Shabbat shalom!

(Am I freaking out about academics and skills? A bit, yes, but I think learning how to do things pleasantly, and how to prioritize is also important. I need to give the kids time and space to try those things out, in a safe environment when the stakes are not too high.)

reflections on a trip to Israel

I came back from Israel from Women's Reconnection trip. It was a trip designed for all of us (nebachs) who did not qualify or otherwise were not able to go on JWRP. In a nutshell, it was an amazing trip and I do recommend it to open-minded seekers. Here are some more of my jumbled jet-lagged thoughts before they escape and become not important.

I was the youngest of the group, by a decade at least. However, I had no problem connecting and participating and interacting with other women. I know that we were a self-selecting bunch of those open to new experiences and new connections. I also know that being in the presence of so much wisdom acquired through age and trial and error was humbling. Also, I noticed how many women were divorced or on their second marriages. I wondered how many of them needed this trip at a different, earlier point in their lives. I was grateful to take it now instead of waiting another twenty years to "focus on myself".

The trip and the participants made me feel normal, like I belong, that there is no problem with being myself, feeling what I am feeling, observing what I am observing, learning Torah and practicing the way that I do. There was no sense that there is a need to investigate anyone's kashrut or check anyone's tzitzit. I marveled at that because the trip included a few rebbitzins and I even noted it to them explicitly. We were all just Jewish women, enjoying the hospitality of other Jews.

I got a confirmation that my connection to Hashem is intact. I davened at the Kotel and kever Rachel and at Shiloh, and had no problem pouring my heart out in heartfelt prayer. G-d's presence (shechina) was there, and I could feel approaching it, focusing my thoughts, letting whatever burdened me to flow from my lips. I was not ashamed to cry. I was not limiting my thoughts, wondering if I am asking for too much, or whether it is my place to ask. I am not mad at G-d, or questioning his existence or ability to influence the events. I am mad at the people on the ground, who are committing evil in his name, denying me access to the Divine by their hypocrisy.

I was truly happy and content in Israel. Maybe it had to do with the lack of responsibilities. Maybe it had to do with a distance from my children and being able to be defined by something other than an overwhelmed mother of five. Maybe it's because the caregiving for my extra-needy child was not in my hands. Maybe it was because everything was simpler. Maybe it had to do with being able to move, walk a lot, not have to spend hours sitting in the car driving carpool, driving to activities. Perhaps it had to with having a loosely set schedule, where at any given time there was only one place I was supposed to be and only one thing I was supposed to focus on instead of the constant barrage of preparations and anticipations and things that I forgot to do that I experience in the States. Maybe it was being physically removed from the trauma that is my current shul and rabbi and alleged child molester and no ability to bring this all to light. Maybe it was being surrounded by so many women who simply bearing no ill will towards me.

I am a self-defining introvert, normally hanging back, reserved, not social, not seeking to reach out, needing my own space and craving peace and quiet. In Israel, due to the nature of the trip and the comfortable supportive atmosphere, I found myself seeking the company of others, reaching out, disclosing personal details, volunteering answers, and being "out there". Yet that felt like a very authentic part of me. There were a few times that I did feel overwhelmed and overstimulated, but nowhere near as much as I feel in the States on any given day. I wonder whether I am not just an introvert, but I simply try to minimize draining and cursory interactions so that I do not end up with extra pain.

Finally, as far as the learning aspect of the trip, I felt that the bigger messages of gratitude, recognizing and acknowledging the Divine, being G-d like in my actions, and being vulnerable with our pain and with the pain of others made me feel like I am on the right track. It took me many years and many uncomfortable twists and turns to arrive at the place where I stand but to find the classes that reinforced and deepened those themes was affirming.

From the very first time I went to Israel to this trip (my third), I felt that in Israel there is a continuum of observances and beliefs rather than discrete groupings that are taking place in America. Some of them are way out there, and some of them appear to be most like familiar American divisions, but the unity of the Jewish people somehow trumps over everything. We had a kabbalat Shabbat at the Kotel (my first Shabbat in Jerusalem) and, as we were signing with our small group, we formed a circle. All of a sudden, other women joined in: frum, not frum, in skirts, in pants, with hair covered and not, and even quite a few tourists who I am pretty sure were not Jewish. Somebody was recording the whole spontaneous scene with a cellphone and nobody was waiving for her to stop. A few days before we explored the theme of feeling a touch of the Divine. Joint experiences in the multitude of others came up. At this moment, singing and dancing together, like one person with one voice and one heart, I felt G-d's fingerprint in the world. I am not a mystical person, I am very rational and logical by nature. However, the way that this trip spoke to me was mystical and mysterious. For some reason, this is what I needed to take away.

One small action and the ripple effect

Yoga.

You should do yoga. It helps with stress, it is low-impact, it does not require a whole lot of special equipment, you already know the basic routines.

Why am I not doing yoga?

Then my homeschool friend offers to give a short ten-minute yoga session in between the classes. I dutifully put on my leggings and toss the mat into the car. We set up mats outdoors, and feel every bump of the soil. In a cute twist, each one of us has a daughter who joins her mother on the mat. I never shared my mat before, but it feels cool, doing this with my athletic girlie. Besides, this is just a taste, a short light-hearted session, punctuated by laughter.

It was a nothing, really.

But this nothing spurred me to go back to JCC. I made it to three yoga classes in the past week. it feels like an amazing accomplishment.

I feel better.
My body feels better.
My head feels more centered.
My heart is filled with gratitude to this friend and her casual yoga suggestion.

Do not underestimate the power of your impact.

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Morning tefila

Dear G-d,

Give me wisdom today to spend my energy where it matters, where it will be nourishing.

Give me room to make mistakes and a space for forgiveness. Give me the perspective to acknowledge the mistakes of others. Give me the strength to hear the truth, even if it hurts, even if it feels like a betrayal, even if it lets me down.

Give me space to breathe. Give me expanse to be myself, feed my soul-sustaining food, find time for my interests.

Give me clarity on what is important, what is essential, and what is the chaff, fleeting, temporary.

Give me peace and serenity.
Give me the ability to be content.

Dear G-d. please send this to me, and to all others who need it.

Thank you.

A Black Square

Use a black square as your profile.
Show the men what the world is like without women.
It's a project against domestic abuse.
Do it for one day.

I hate mass forwards.
I do not like to jump on the bandwagon.
I wonder what these things accomplish.

And then I wonder about who needs solidarity.
I wonder who feels alone.
I wonder who feels that nobody else has to deal what she has to deal with, the manipulation, control, loss of autonomy, breaking down of will, belittling and minimizing of needs and wants, isolation, entrapment, being stuck and feeling stuck, with the only window to the outside world being Facebook and mindless scrolls through everyone's perfect life.

I hate perfection because it is always covering up something messy and ugly.

But I also worry about the ultraorthodox world where women already do not exist, where their pictures are already erased, where their voices are not heard ( and no, I do not mean singing, I mean being able to open your mouth and speak your mind). I worry that men are already too comfortable in a world where women are covered up by black squares, erased, removed, silenced and deemed not able to participate because "they are too busy raising families and keeping a heilige home".

Don't go to shul, you are not chayav.
Don't take your daughters to shul, they are not chayav.
Don't go beyond inspirational ladies' classes. You are not able to focus/don't have the skills/do not need the skills/teaching girls is wasting time.
"Are you ready for Yom Tov?" means have you stressed about the menu and tablescapce enough and not whether you have spent mental energy on preparing spiritually.

In the end, the desire to show support to those struggling with abuse won.

I do not think one black square will do it.
I do not think one day will do it.
I do not think men will wonder, or miss us, or care in a way that will produce lasting change.

Men like action. That's why pink hats march gets them riled up more than silent protests.

Erev Yom Kippur thoughts

There is a sunrise every single day. And every single day it feels like a sin if I am not there when the sun is rising, when the sky starts to turn colors, when darkness changes to light, when a new day dawns. I need to see it, to feel it, to experience it, to acknowledge it. I want to spend at least a few sunrises of my life at the shore of a body of water, on a mountain, somewhere where the skyline is not obscured by roofs and trees and the debris of everyday life.

I have a hard time arranging my life in a way where I can voice my needs, have my needs heard, and have my needs met.

I have even harder time with finding like-minded individuals. I am blessed with quite a few friends who have held my hand through fairly major storms, but all of them, without exception, live a very real distance away, so all the hand-holding was done virtually, through phone calls and messages. It is a sin that somehow I cannot manage close and vulnerable relationships without putting a physical distance between us.

I do not know how to atone for these sins.

Questions

I am grappling with these questions:

• What is the rabbi's role? For clarification's sake,  I mean in an orthodox North American shul. Is he just there to give a sermon on Shabbos and to show up for bris, bar mitzvah and funeral? Is he responsible for the well-being of his congregation? For its safety? For its children's education?
• What is the shul's role? To be a convenient location to discharge one's obligation of group prayer? A social shmoozing ground? A place of spiritual growth? A place to further Jewish learning?
• What is the community's role? To nod heads to each other in Kroger? To supply baby and mourner's meals? To have a gathering of like-minded individuals? To have a colorful diversity? To be a beacon of morality? To be insular, and divide the world into "us" vs. "them"?

If I hear another lovely sentiment of כל ישראל ערבים זה לזה followed by "but not like this!" I might puke. So please, give me your real answers. Give me what you think it should be. Tell me what it is. And help me brainstorm how to make it better.

אֶשָּׂא עֵינַי, אֶל-הֶהָרִים-- I lift my eyes to the mountains

   מֵאַיִן, יָבֹא עֶזְרִי    Where will my help come from?
  עֶזְרִי, מֵעִם יְהוָה-- Help is from G-d

    עֹשֵׂה, שָׁמַיִם וָאָרֶץ The creator of the sky and the earth.

I sometimes wonder what is wrong with me, why do I have to learn the same exact lesson time and again, and why do I not get it the first time around. I keep on relying on other human beings, on people in power, with clout, with position, with reputation, and I keep asking them, help me! Help me with homeschooling. Help me with my non-standard child. Help me run my life with five children. Help me grow spiritually. Help me with carpool. Help me with tutoring. Help me with Shabbos invites. Help me feel welcome. Help me with theological and philosophical dilemmas. Help me find a good educational and parenting approach. These humans are like mountains, towering over me, overlooking me, seeing me, yet looking right past.

Yet when push comes to shove, when it is down to the wire, when I scream, help me feel in control over this aspect of my life, I get a clear message from G-d: you were never in control. You relied on humans again, and again they came up short. Some are simply humans, some are malicious, some are evil, some are clueless, but they do not have the ability to give to you what you are seeking. What you are seeking is Divine assistance, which is beyond the most well-placed human.

I wanted answers. I got answers. Rely on G-d, and do not rely on the community. Do your own thing. Live your values. Be unashamedly who you are. Spend less time looking around and more time on introspection. With G-d's help, it will be alright. 

garden woes

For the third time since moving to the current state, I have planted a garden: cucumbers, squash, tomatoes. We have grown these vegetables back in NY in pre-kid days. For the third time, squash-eating bugs have descended and consumed the vines. I got abundant leaves, beautiful flowers, and even some little zucchini growing. Then the caterpillars and burrowing bugs came and consumed the fruit overnight until only a pulpy mess remained. The stems keep holding out, producing more giant leaves, more flowers, giving me hope, but the insides are rotting. No fruit survives to maturity.

http://www.missouribotanicalgarden.org/Portals/0/
Gardening/Gardening%20Help/images/Pests/Pest2461.jpg

I keep thinking how planting and not reaping a harvest is a biblical curse. A lot of effort, care, maintenance goes into gardening, but a lot of it depends on Divine Providence. Zucchini squash produces only male flowers until it reaches a certain maturity, or the soil is moist enough, or there are enough sunny and rainy days in the precise combination. Most of the advice I got was wait and hope that the weather conditions will be just right for both flower genders to be produced.

Today I had enough of watching giant squash leaves take over the whole garden bed, not producing any fruit while sucking up resources from the soil. Their healthful appearance belied the vines that they grew on, sickly and rotting, consumed from within. I yanked them all out, giving more space and more sunlight to the basil, rosemary, and mint. The garden bed looked empty, while the compost pile seemed covered with lush green leaves as if thrown out by mistake. But I know that in order to plant successfully, you need to weed, and those rotting plants turned into unwanted weeds.

All of this seemed like a metaphor for what's going on in my life. So many things appear beautiful and appealing on the surface, healthy and beckoning, while rotting on the inside. They will never produce fruit, and one is better cutting them off than letting them fester.

I was told by the shul's executive board to either trust their leadership, or to seek utopian shul somewhere else. This was on the heels of being told that the shul is not liable for any wrongdoing legally (nothing happened on their premises), while the protection of children and members "not in the know" is not their concern. I was not even given an opening to discuss my concerns and wishes for the youth program. Funds are being allocated for learning. How it is conducted and what results it produces, and under which conditions is none of their business. It has to look right. When it is rotting from within and you expose that, you must be the troublemaker, because you just do not understand how much effort has been put into tending this garden.

Some gardeners will not have the strength to pull out the plants that have turned into weeds, seduced by their appearance. Some garden beds just need to be walked away from.

As for me, let me know where I can find an utopian shul that welcomes children, takes their safety seriously, and fosters women's learning.

Courage when facing authority

Shemot 4:29

וַיֵּ֥לֶךְ מֹשֶׁ֖ה וְאַהֲרֹ֑ן וַיַּ֣אַסְפ֔וּ אֶת־כָּל־זִקְנֵ֖י בְּנֵ֥י יִשְׂרָאֵֽל׃

Then Moses and Aaron went and assembled all the elders of the Israelites.

A few pesukim later, Shemot 5:1

וְאַחַ֗ר בָּ֚אוּ מֹשֶׁ֣ה וְאַהֲרֹ֔ן וַיֹּאמְר֖וּ אֶל־פַּרְעֹ֑ה כֹּֽה־אָמַ֤ר יְהוָה֙ אֱלֹהֵ֣י יִשְׂרָאֵ֔ל שַׁלַּח֙ אֶת־עַמִּ֔י וְיָחֹ֥גּוּ לִ֖י בַּמִּדְבָּֽר׃

Afterward Moses and Aaron went and said to Pharaoh, “Thus says the LORD, the God of Israel: Let My people go that they may celebrate a festival for Me in the wilderness.”

The obvious question is, if Moshe and Aaron gathered all the elders of Israel, showed them the signs, and convinced the people. why is it that only Moshe and Aaron are standing before Pharaoh?

Rashi on Shemot 5:1

ואחר באו משה ואהרן וגו'. אֲבָל הַזְּקֵנִים נִשְׁמְטוּ אֶחָד אֶחָד מֵאַחַר מֹשֶׁה וְאַהֲרֹן, עַד שֶׁנִּשְׁמְטוּ כֻלָּם קֹדֶם שֶׁהִגִּיעוּ לַפָּלָטִין, לְפִי שֶׁיָּרְאוּ לָלֶכֶת; וּבְסִינַי נִפְרַע לָהֶם, "וְנִגַּשׁ מֹשֶׁה לְבַדּוֹ אֶל ה' וְהֵם לֹא יִגָּשׁוּ" (שמות כ"ד) – הֶחֱזִירָם לַאֲחוֹרֵיהֶם (שמות רבה):

ואחר באו משה ואהרן AND AFTERWARDS MOSES AND AARON CAME — But the elders slipped away one by one from behind Moses and Aaron until every-one of them had slipped away before they arrived at the palace, because they were afraid to go there. At Sinai they were punished for this, for it is stated (Exodus 24:2) “And Moses alone shall draw near unto the Lord, but they, (the elders; cf. Exodus 24:1) shall not draw near” — He bid them stay behind. (Exodus Rabbah 5:14)

I taught this to my son this year. I am thinking about how every time one has to face the authority and the consequences, there will be redeemers, and there will be elders, the ones who will stay on the sidelines with perfectly good excuses and see how it all plays out. The elders get punished because staying out of conflict is still making a choice, and that choice carries its own consequences.

המבין יבין

feeling of failure

I have this awful feeling that I'm failing at things before I even start them. 

It is scary to admit this because this mindset will surely keep me behind. I know all about fixed mindset vs growth-oriented mindset. I try to encourage this growth in my children. It is also scary because this mindset of failure was reinforced my whole childhood and I subconsciously transferred it onto my oldest. Don't try this, it's no use long-term. Don't do this, it's not your strength. You're considering this?! Why would anyone do it? For some reason I have lower expectations of other children, not really lower, but different, so I give myself that second of breathing space and I am less likely to see whatever they are doing as aggravatingly unproductive. In that second, I manage to reframe their occupation as useful, unschooling, life-skills. I put a positive spin on it, and voila! In the new light, they can grow.

I keep screaming at myself "You are enough! You have done enough! This is good enough!" But deep down, every completed task feels like "Ok and now what? You could be doing so much more. You should be doing so much more. Why are you not doing so much more?"

Every time I think I made progress in this area, the same feeling of not really getting anywhere hits, and I find myself right back where I started.

And that terrifies me, especially as it will be reflected in the mindset of my son.

Only by being gentle with him, will I learn to be gentle with me. Or maybe I have it backwards, and only when I feel myself to be worthy of gentleness will I be able to bestow it abundantly on all my children. I wonder about hereditary low self-esteem, and how often it is demonstrated by pushing the offspring to accomplish what the parents were not able to do while berating the children for not reaching higher, going further, caring deeper.

http://www.jorymicah.com/wp-content/uploads/2015/04/chalkboard-black-enough.jpg

When is the right time?

 There used to be this post going around how at different points in life you want different things, but you don't have them when you want them. It was something like you want sleep when you're a new parent, and energy when you're old and money when you're young. It was true but ironic.

I got to the pool today. I ended up bringing only 8 yo and 5 yo which meant that the youngest who still does not swim and who resembles Heihei from Moana will not repeatedly try to drown. There were friends for both of these kids to swim with. I brought my swim cap and goggles. That meant I was all free to swim, right?

At some point in my life, around high school and college, I would have done anything for an opportunity like this. I loved the water, I loved swimming. I felt comfortable. I had half a year of swim lessons/team. All that was missing was free access to the pool, and ability to swim separate from men.

I got in the pool, swam here, swam there. I did yoga earlier in the day, and that was more intense than expected. I still could not work out my breathing. After two rounds across the pool, not even two laps, I was out of breath.

My mom friends offered to go sit near the lap pool so I could swim laps. I laughed, because I had no ability to do those laps.

Here we go, the opportunity was here, but I had no ability to make the most of it.

And then it thundered.
And the kids, who were not done, begged to be taken to the indoor pool. And I had zero desire get into the much cooler water again.

May our opportunities and our abilities match up.