Thursday, March 26, 2009
Go away? No, I don't think so.
Evanescence's song "My Immortal" just came up on my Pandora , and it got me thinking about mom--naturally. I wondered if I'd be able to sit through the song without totally breaking down, truth be told. So the song started, I listened, and it came to me that the song is wrong. Well, for me at least. The truth is, I don't want to forget. I don't want the memories to leave. Yah, it's still hard many days to make it through, but my God, if I forget her, then she's really gone. I think I prefer the idea from the old Yiddish song: I know that I owe what I am today to that mother of mine. That's a blessing and a fond memory, and God help me if I forget.
Wednesday, March 18, 2009
Woke up on a bad day, but the world grew wonderful
Yesterday didn't start out looking so good. I woke up in a terrible mood, as I'm prone to once in a while due to recent events, and it looked like things were going to go downhill from there. I was just flat crabby and depressive, and I couldn't see a way out: work didn't hold any charm, staying home wasn't an option, and I had to start the morning by going to the Post Office.
So off I went, hoping to pick up the package that had arrived right as the Post Office opened. First indication, however, that the day wasn't going to pick up: Post Office didn't open till 8:30, not 8 as I had been told the evening before. Hooray. Waited in my car until 8:25 before standing in the Post Office lobby for the last five minutes--which turned into 10 minutes. Stood in line--only second, mind you--for 5 minutes while the Civil employee readied himself. Took another 10 minutes for him to find, retrieve, and hand over my package.
This is where my mood began to lighten ever so slightly. I had ordered a new tallit from Israel, and opening the package, I could see that this was the awaited shawl. A bright spot. The bright spot shone brighter when I was able to open the package completely at work and saw that the the tallit was, indeed, beautiful.
Still, I was unmotivated by my work, and my mood and attitude were generally bad. Soldiering on as best I could, I put on some music and got to work. At 11:30, some colleagues asked if I would join them in eating outside, so off I went.
Here's the next part in the lifting of my mood: the day was absolutely gorgeous. Low 60s with just a hint of cloud and the slightest, slightest chill in the breeze. Somewhere in that mid morning, my funk began to lift, and I came back to work feeling far better. My work had become suddenly more engaging, and I was happier to do it.
The rest of the day went pretty quickly. After getting home and helping the Wife with dinner, we sat down to eat a pleasant and enjoyable meal. The Boy and I went out to play some catch--the Girl was at a sleepover--and so I spent the next 40 minutes throwing around outside. More weight lifted from me. The Wife came out, suggested a movie, so we went out, the three of us. Returning home, the Boy was bushed, so he went straight to bed. The Wife wanted to watch a show on the computer, so I played a bit of World of Warcraft, spending an hour or two with an old friend in game. Ended up going to bed a bit later than I wanted.
So between friendship, good relationships, beautiful weather, excellently-used leisure time, and a new prayer shawl, I fell asleep in a far better mood than I would have ever anticipated.
Life, truly and deeply, is good.
So off I went, hoping to pick up the package that had arrived right as the Post Office opened. First indication, however, that the day wasn't going to pick up: Post Office didn't open till 8:30, not 8 as I had been told the evening before. Hooray. Waited in my car until 8:25 before standing in the Post Office lobby for the last five minutes--which turned into 10 minutes. Stood in line--only second, mind you--for 5 minutes while the Civil employee readied himself. Took another 10 minutes for him to find, retrieve, and hand over my package.
This is where my mood began to lighten ever so slightly. I had ordered a new tallit from Israel, and opening the package, I could see that this was the awaited shawl. A bright spot. The bright spot shone brighter when I was able to open the package completely at work and saw that the the tallit was, indeed, beautiful.
Still, I was unmotivated by my work, and my mood and attitude were generally bad. Soldiering on as best I could, I put on some music and got to work. At 11:30, some colleagues asked if I would join them in eating outside, so off I went.
Here's the next part in the lifting of my mood: the day was absolutely gorgeous. Low 60s with just a hint of cloud and the slightest, slightest chill in the breeze. Somewhere in that mid morning, my funk began to lift, and I came back to work feeling far better. My work had become suddenly more engaging, and I was happier to do it.
The rest of the day went pretty quickly. After getting home and helping the Wife with dinner, we sat down to eat a pleasant and enjoyable meal. The Boy and I went out to play some catch--the Girl was at a sleepover--and so I spent the next 40 minutes throwing around outside. More weight lifted from me. The Wife came out, suggested a movie, so we went out, the three of us. Returning home, the Boy was bushed, so he went straight to bed. The Wife wanted to watch a show on the computer, so I played a bit of World of Warcraft, spending an hour or two with an old friend in game. Ended up going to bed a bit later than I wanted.
So between friendship, good relationships, beautiful weather, excellently-used leisure time, and a new prayer shawl, I fell asleep in a far better mood than I would have ever anticipated.
Life, truly and deeply, is good.
Monday, March 16, 2009
l'shem mitzvah tzitzit
Tzitzit are the ritual fringes that we put in the corners of our tallitot, our prayer shawls. The fringes are knotted in a prescribed manner, depending on your custom, and they end up looking like this:
A few months back I decided to tie my own tzitzit for the first time. I'd hesitated in the past, thinking surely this would be a very difficult thing to do, but as is so often the case with things of this nature, it really wasn't that hard at all. I'm in the habit now of tying tzitzit whenever they fray, which thin tzitzit seem to do a LOT (either that or I'm hell on an arba kanfot; either way I've switched to thicker tzitzit string). Taking out the old tzitzit takes almost more time than tying the new ones.
Wearing tzitzit is supposed to remind the wearer of the commandments, but I found that in tying the tzitzit themselves, I also came my own little homely understanding. As I said, the tying and winding isn't too hard by itself; it just requires focus and concentration, much like doing mitzvot: Not so hard when you're paying attention.
So last night I was replacing several frayed tzitzit, and a flat-out lovely thing occurred. While I sat in the family room tying, my kids came in, sat down, and proceeded to read. Their reading is not uncommon, but this quiet moment in the middle of a hectic life, that's uncommon. So there I was, tying my tzitzit, focusing on the task, and what occurred? Quiet family time together, all anchored around a mitzvah.
A few months back I decided to tie my own tzitzit for the first time. I'd hesitated in the past, thinking surely this would be a very difficult thing to do, but as is so often the case with things of this nature, it really wasn't that hard at all. I'm in the habit now of tying tzitzit whenever they fray, which thin tzitzit seem to do a LOT (either that or I'm hell on an arba kanfot; either way I've switched to thicker tzitzit string). Taking out the old tzitzit takes almost more time than tying the new ones.
Wearing tzitzit is supposed to remind the wearer of the commandments, but I found that in tying the tzitzit themselves, I also came my own little homely understanding. As I said, the tying and winding isn't too hard by itself; it just requires focus and concentration, much like doing mitzvot: Not so hard when you're paying attention.
So last night I was replacing several frayed tzitzit, and a flat-out lovely thing occurred. While I sat in the family room tying, my kids came in, sat down, and proceeded to read. Their reading is not uncommon, but this quiet moment in the middle of a hectic life, that's uncommon. So there I was, tying my tzitzit, focusing on the task, and what occurred? Quiet family time together, all anchored around a mitzvah.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
Achewood
If you don't know this web comic, you should. It's a bit on the surreal side at times, but it's flat-out hysterical. Today's strip, for example:
http://www.achewood.com Yah. You'll thank me for it later.
http://www.achewood.com Yah. You'll thank me for it later.
Purim Sameach
Ah, Purim. Hanukkah might be the sweet celebration, but it doesn't hold a candle to Purim for out-and-out madness and revelry. Maybe that's too bad...but maybe that's a good thing. I, for one, couldn't take more than one Purim a year, especially as I get older.
For those who don't know the Purim story, it's a classic in the "They tried to kill us, they failed, let's eat" type of holidays. Instead, though of eating, we drink. Well, we eat, too, but there's a special commandment to drink on Purim in order to accentuate the holiday's joyfulness. In fact, we're supposed to drink until we can't determine the difference between "Blessed is Mordecai, Cursed is Haman." There is a bit of debate about what this means exactly, but suffice it to say that many folks get completely blotto by the end of the night.
To me, the really fun part is the reading of the Megillah in shul. Text readings are normally pretty staid affairs, with people listening respectfully. This all changes with the reading of Megillat Esther. Folks speak out and act out and say inappropriate things, albeit usually quite amusing inappropriate things. Puns, ribadlry, even vulgarity, it's all there, and what with folks in costume and kids running around all over the place, it becomes barely controlled chaos. It's a good thing, really.
That said, my hang-over didn't even start until noon yesterday. /shudder.
For those who don't know the Purim story, it's a classic in the "They tried to kill us, they failed, let's eat" type of holidays. Instead, though of eating, we drink. Well, we eat, too, but there's a special commandment to drink on Purim in order to accentuate the holiday's joyfulness. In fact, we're supposed to drink until we can't determine the difference between "Blessed is Mordecai, Cursed is Haman." There is a bit of debate about what this means exactly, but suffice it to say that many folks get completely blotto by the end of the night.
To me, the really fun part is the reading of the Megillah in shul. Text readings are normally pretty staid affairs, with people listening respectfully. This all changes with the reading of Megillat Esther. Folks speak out and act out and say inappropriate things, albeit usually quite amusing inappropriate things. Puns, ribadlry, even vulgarity, it's all there, and what with folks in costume and kids running around all over the place, it becomes barely controlled chaos. It's a good thing, really.
That said, my hang-over didn't even start until noon yesterday. /shudder.
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