Best Future Father? Elijah Wood

Hands down, Elijah wood is going to be one of the best dads out there. I know this because of a favorite childhood memory I don't share often enough.

It’s about a gameboy. A gameboy, and Elijah Wood. Who, many women my age hope, is a boy with game.

Elijah at a more recent Disney release - Tron: Uprising

Ok, so now he is a man. A very attractive, successful, talented man. One we’ve been following since childhood. So, travel with me back to a time when we was indeed a boy, and he let me use his gameboy. It was late summer/early fall 1989. The gameboy had just been released on the market and though I would eventually get mine in the form of a chanukah gift that winter, I’d only seen commercials for this $99 pocket computer. But in those first few months between knowing about a gameboy and being able to play my own, it was a cultural status symbol and we were all obsessed with it.

I hadn’t yet played one as school was called into session that fall. In fact, I wasn’t in school, I was on set filming a “Disney educational film.” I don’t talk about that set very often. Realistically, there isn’t a lot that’s exciting about actually teaching people not to run with scissors when you don’t work in a classroom. But the set was filled with lots of cool kids, including a new friend playing a real-life pinocchio. His name was Elijah and our mothers sat together, bonding over their shared experiences. Being a stage-mom has a lot to bond over.

While they were swapping stories about their commutes to LA (Elijah’s was farther than my drives from Orange County. He’d started his career while still in Iowa), they connected, and I overheard that Elijah’s siblings had biblical names, like his.

The thing that stood out most to me, though, was when all the kids had down time in the trailer. There was a line of people who’d called dibs to play Mario Brothers on Elijah’s gameboy (do you remember a time when those graphics were impressive?). When it came to my turn, my very first turn playing on a gameboy ever, the other boys all said “why bother letting her play? She’s just going to lose anyway.”

Elijah defended the decision to let me have my turn. He may have literally, word for word, been repeating whatever his parent’s policies were on sharing toys, but there he went. It went something like: “Nope, it’s her turn, she waited in line and gets a turn too.”  I really appreciated the opportunity, in that moment, to play a video game like the line of boys before and after me. I’m far from a “gamer” but it let me know what having a brother would be like (4 years prior to becoming a sister) and, more importantly, what being a gentleman looks like.

So, to whoever gets to (eventually) have Elijah parent their kids, you’re lucky. This guy knows what it means to treat women well, to share, and to create space for people to fail. Because obviously, I killed off Mario in record time that day.

PS don’t run with scissors. And no, I don’t have a copy of the film. It’s in the "vault" somewhere and my friend who works at Disney hasn’t been able to locate it. Maybe Elijah ended up with a copy for his reel.

Bargaining (a Tactic for Children, and Children of God)

Oh, that tactical aspect of negotiation. I've heard a lot of it lately.
Maybe it's because I've been taking public transit while I recover (at break neck speeds thanks to my extraordinary physical therapist and support system!). Maybe it's the fact I have a handful of friends who are currently grieving. Perhaps it's just the appropriate time of year, so I'm attuned to it.

Never mind the reason. When, over the course of two days, I overhear three conversations where kids are bargaining with a parent, I know something particularly cosmic is going on. Young boys, in most of these instances, pleading for a dog, or a delayed bed time. Bargaining with a mom, it seems, is not entirely different than the rituals we participate in, bargaining for our own freedoms in the coming year with our ever present parent, God.

These sons' pleas reminded me of the promises we all make, to take care of something or someone outside of ourselves (with the likes of "I'll walk the dog!" and "can my younger brother stay up too?") , the type of promises we have to disavow ourselves of as we are seated at the table of "who shall live and who shall die" this Friday night.

What I most understood from the familiar banter, stereotypical though it seemed, "I will never ask for anything again" and a "please" that held enough extra vowels to fill all the seats on the M104, was that the negotiation between parent and child is one of unique compassion, patience and attentiveness. One mother allowed her child to go through the entire argument without interruption. She let him put all of his explanations out on the table. Another said no to each sentence. Our parent is one who does not always answer right away. One who's answer we don't always agree with or want to hear. Sometimes we find God silent for too long. Long enough to wonder whether God is an absence rather than a divine presence.

May we all come to prayer this holiday season knowing that God is everything or anything we need. God may even be what we don't know we need. Our strength is in knowing how to share ourselves, our motivations, our desires, our dreams. It helps to be aware that God may not answer us right away, or in the way that we'd hoped. Because while God may not have limitations, we all do. Like a child begging to stay up late, I cannot always see the ramifications my desires might have in tomorrow's light. I hope we can each break through walls that need to be broken and identify the patterns that no longer serve us, and most importantly, I hope that we learn to better serve one another in the coming year.

May you be inscribed in the book of life, and may we all help write our own books this year.

What I'm Hiding

It's weird to get ready for the Jewish New Year, a time of soul searching, opening up, letting go, letting in, self-awareness, and reflection realizing that I've been doing myself a disservice in keeping a secret, which has, in turn, made me feel unfulfilled, frustrated and generally, resentful of those closest to me. At least, I hope that I can blame my lack of honesty and not the people.

Why have I been hesitant to disclose? For the most part, I think it's that I don't want to be a burden, because asking others to do things for me doesn't match my personality. I'm a 'do it yourself' kind of girl, independent and self-sufficient, and admitting that doing it myself is impossible is ... well... darn near impossible. So, more often than not, I have been putting on a happy face, and when I can't muster that, a blank expression. I've been ignoring my budget by taking advantage of soap.com and fresh direct. I had no clue that 3 blocks from my apartment was a drugstore clearing everything out for 50% off. And, I've been eating beans straight from the can.

Now, if you follow my food blog, you know that while I may consume chickpeas straight from a can, that wouldn't happen with anything else. Well, these were black beans. I've eaten cheese straight from a package, cereal dry, and I've stared at beautiful food on the brink in my fridge, and reached for yogurt instead ... in the last week I managed to make myself one meal, and, while delicious, I haven't touched a dirtied dish from that or the two weeks prior.

What I've been reticent to share over the past five weeks is that I've been in agonizing pain. Not just minor injury pain, which is, likely, how people perceive it. Laying down hurts. All the more so, standing hurts. A hot shower is the closest I've come to feeling good - but if that lasts longer than about 7 minutes, it's all fruitless and I'm back in pain. I have the tiniest of injuries causing all this pain, of course, just a little torn cartilage, and I've been sticking my knee brace under leggings and quietly using the chair next to me to keep it elevated.

And I've been hiding it by attempting to be social, where I can have alcohol in excess to disguise the pain, or by taking drugs that make me feel loopy and disconnected from what is going on around me. I've managed to get through my workdays, strained. Sitting up with my leg elevated for nearly 8 hours is completely exhausting ... but what I've most come to understand is that while I resent my body plenty for making me endure this - I really resent that amongst the community and the friends I boast as amongst my dearest and closest, I haven't gotten much of the support I need. All I can do is hope that it is my fault for not expressing my needs clearly. I want to believe this is true despite the fact that a number of friends have reached out, have delivered food, have come over for meals, have been tremendously, wonderfully accommodating. So I do wonder how much it's been me, and how much I must reevaluate my relationships to understand that not all of them are what I thought they were.

But then I realize, I am so profoundly grateful for the people who have been understanding, who have been supportive, who have offered me genuine well wishes, and I acknowledge that the resentment doesn't serve me. But when I'm crying on my 3 block walk home from the subway station, all I can think about is whether it's my own fault I'm not being fully supported through this.

In my heart I know that I will get through this, that I will return to my truest self with a smile, and, I hope, dancing and heels and yoga, too. What I'm unsure of is the relationships that don't emanate support now, especially the ones that don't offer as much as a "get well" sentiment, and whether I will be able or willing to foster those relationships in the future. It feels easy now to conflate the two types of pain, that of the physical and that of the soul, and I wonder whether it will wash away in this season of new beginnings, or serve to open my eyes and clear out wasted energies and fruitless friendships.

Bring on the Warmth

I’m grateful for warmth!

This past Sunday night, I decided to hike over the 4 avenues to a friend’s apartment sometime after 9pm. The offer was extended with love, but I very hesitantly agreed to the walk, because it was quite cold and quiet around the NYC neighborhood in which I live. Layering up, I grabbed my red sweatshirt off the top of my hamper. First of all, it’s from the clothing swap we did in the fall. In ‘getting’ this great sweatshirt, I ‘gave up’ shoes and clothing galore, the majority of which went to a great local charity called Housing Works. Second of all, I’d put it there not because it was dirty, as much as because I didn’t want to hang it up. So it was a pleasant surprise when this red hoodie was wonderfully warm, thanks to the radiator it had been resting near. And, on my cross town trek, I thought about the other things that had made me warm throughout the day: Brunch with Aimee at the Mud Stop where the mint tea and mimosas included for my $13 fistful were deliciously warming. As was the conversation, and the welcome face she had when I lost my sense of direction and showed up 20 minutes late!
Then, I reflected on volunteer day for Limmud NY as all the final details come together for a conference I’ve been working on for countless hours. Full of wonderfully talented, enthusiastic, and dedicated people, many of them first time volunteers, and witnessing everything being put in order - magnificent! (Though, for talent's sake, you can see mine isn't in art - my Check in sign was mediocre at best!)
Back in reality, I’d already made it two avenues, and was still pretty warm. Ok, I’m a California girl. Maybe I was losing a bit of feeling in my extremities, but bearable. I realized it was likely a result of “warm soup belly” which I enjoyed at my favorite Union Square haunt along with more wonderful conversation with a friend who had also attended volunteer day. Finally, it occurred to me, I couldn’t believe I was even thinking about being cold, when we’d run across so many “pantsless” subway riders that evening in union square. The smile across my face returns now, and just erupted then, thinking about “those crazy kids” and folks who act like kids ... who participated in the near-naked public displays thanks ImprovEverywhere - you’ve got gumption, which is especially impressive on such a freezing day. Of course there was also getting a chance to finally check my weekend mail when I got home. (Hey, I've been off accomplishing it all, I've been quite busy!) In my mailbox, I found the most extraordinary thank you card from a most extraordinary friend. I'm coming to believe that one person's gratitude only helps cultivate gratitude in others. Appreciation is never underrated.

When I arrived at my destination, and we caught up about the last few weeks, work, writing, volunteering, planning details of my upcoming vacation, it occurred to me how lucky I am that it just takes a few steps from my apartment to an amazingly wonderful city filled with good friends, good food, and so many fun opportunities. I have cultivated a family of friends who remind me quite often what I have to be grateful for. But mostly, on that walk home, it was the red sweatshirt.

My Attitude of Gratitude: Cultivated in 2010

I’m not the kind of woman who seeks mentors. I have found a rare few in my life, a professor who I worked for in college and graduate school, a colleague or two. But typically, I’m a fiercely independent person. That’s why, in reflecting on what I’m so grateful for this past year, I’m surprised to say that the first thing that pops into my head after health, is one Sissy Block. A wonderful friend, I am feeling particularly grateful to her because she made me a generous offer this year. She suggested we become “writing partners” - she is the person with whom I meet weekly or bi-monthly to sit beside as we write our respective creative projects. Both are books. Very different, very fictionalized, but both very personal. Having someone beside you while you pour your guts onto a page (or computer screen) is unbelievably validating. What sometimes felt self indulgent now feels powerful, significant, important, occasionally even urgent.

Our “writing dates,” as I call them, alternate neighborhoods for convenience and optimal wifi (though it’s not on the whole time we write! Focus is key). Most days we get over the loud study group or bad date nearby. In fact, if it’s a bad date I usually use it for material for the book I’m working on. Showing up for a writing date is like a planned coffee with a best friend. If you’ve ever had the type of friend who you could pick up with whether it had been one week or one year, that’s the feeling I get when I walk into a room to write with Sissy. She and I don’t need to catch up, the book and I do, and because Sissy’s there, I can pick up exactly where I left off.

When I’m sick, but we meet anyway, I find that I actually do my best writing. My most insecure thoughts, my most off-limit topics, suddenly become easier to deal with than my stomach ache … and I just write - no holds barred. Some really beautiful things come from those moments.

When we take a break from writing to catch up on our personal lives, after all, Sissy and I know each other from volunteering together and get along quite nicely on our own, Sissy reminds me to “write it” to “use it” because it’s here, it’s real. “It” has become better and better thanks to her encouragement. The gratitude we have for one another, for the forward momentum we create by being together in our creative efforts is palpable most days.

Sometimes we laugh out loud at our writing. We share exciting moments of character development. Her project is farther along than mine - and I know that she’ll come to me one day and say she doesn’t need to meet any more... but having her beside me as I’ve taken my first steps on this journey of writing my first novel makes me feel like I’ve taken strides where I would have taken baby steps, and for that I am forever grateful.

Sissy Block and I both have full time jobs working within Jewish academia. We are both active volunteers for Limmud NY. In fact, we met at Limmud NY. You never know where you will be when someone wonderful impacts your life. I’m just lucky we found one another!

Finding Perfection: Sukkah hopping around NY

Sukkot, which occurs each fall, is a week when traditionally, Jews eat (and live!) in the out of doors. In Israel the air is crisp and the fruit harvest is coming to an end. In New York, it’s cold, usually rainy and the wind nips at you. Luckily we have space heaters and layers and warm soup.

This “nature” experience is tempered, of course, by the lovely huts (called sukkot) we build to recall ananei cavod, the clouds of Glory, which were a sign that God was following us in the desert during the Exodus from Egypt. In the past I have spent my sukkot in two or three different structures and usually enjoy them, a bit.

This year, I had meals in 7 different sukkot, each of them unique. I was hoping to come up with a rating system, but each one felt so special that only the few words of Torah given Saturday morning suffice. A rabbi asks, “How many walls are mandatory in a sukkah?” the answer is “two and some” or two and “ehh” as I shouted out. “Why?” the Rabbi asks. Dead Silence. “Because when you put your arm around someone to hug them, your arm makes an angle and you’ve got two and an ‘eh’ angles. God hugs us when we are inside the sukkah.

Thanks God. I thought I liked being in your glory, but I’m sure I like being in your arms. I tend to find personifying God distasteful, but if You want me to build a structure to symbolize a hug, then I’m happy to sit inside of it and feel loved. If I were waxing poetic I might even call the image beautiful. While some buildings had just the required walls and others had four, mostly it was the company in them that made me feel full on embraced.

Anyway, I resort to the questions children ask on Passover –How is this year different from all others? I usually say almost all my blessings in a synagogue sukkah. Not this year. Though having one meal in the smaller of two sukkot at a local synagogue found us the only guests there – which made the one synagogue sukkah experience I had seem just like it was in my own backyard! But of course, my parents’ backyard is already filled with a sukkah, and I spent Monday night out at their house and in their hut with them. Mom made chicken soup per my request with WHOLE WHEAT matzoh balls and some of the best roasted chicken I’ve encountered. It was a joy to see my parents and to join them in their sukkah – to bench lulav with my dad and take the etrog from my great grandparents etrog box. The etrog is too big now. We get better produce than 80 years ago it seems… even in the business of the etrog! My parents and I took some time for Torah too. Rambam and the beleaguered, orphans and widows and that even when times are tough, we are fortunate to have a home to go to and a hut to eat in! Also cute, the following night when my parents had a synagogue board meeting, they loaned it out to our neighbors. So friendly!

Friends (new and old): Two UWSers hosted holiday meals in their personal sukkot … despite impending rain on both meals, they were LOVELY. One had a fish pond right beside the sukkah. Talk about a glorious connection to nature! The other I returned to during the week for s’mores in the sukkah. A firepit right outside of the sukkah kept us all happy and warm… and the beer and marshmallows did a good job too! Those were moving moments. There is something especially tremendous sitting amongst so many friends in a family feeling, small intimate sukkah built by hand.

So, given that I get so excited about these more intimate experiences, what should have been the farthest from my personal sukkah, one at the Jewish Theological Seminary, is actually the nearest to my heart. Not only because I am an alumna and it was a home to many college meals, but also because of the little plaque very few people probably notice. The sukkah is endowed by my darling ‘family’ Frances and Buddy Brandt. Their granddaughter is like a sister to me (having been my roommate for three years) and the sukkah is in the memory of her brother Oren. This was my most recent sukkah experience and to participate in something l’zecher Oren (in the memory of Oren) added so much more meaning to what has become a pretty common experience. I say these blessings in Oren's memory because he liked to build so much everyone thought he'd become an architect. Also, Oren definitely had the type of relationship with God where they were in a strong embrace. Always. So I sat last night hugging Oren’s memory, and also hugging his sister and his grandparents. I hope we were being hugged by God as well. Because in those moments is where God should be. And I returned today to bless some more. The beauty of a sukkah is often times in the people you share it with. Tonight I’m off to a celebration of volunteers for Limmud NY. And then, outside of the sukkah I will go celebrate another wonderful soul who is headed to Thailand to work on human rights and change the world for the better.

I live a blessed life… and this holiday season has reminded me of that tenfold.

On Knowing it All (PT II)

So, will I be walking away from facebook? I have no inclination to do that.

I've had a little while to consider this love affair I have with FB. Quite honestly, the life cycle news circuit doesn't bother me (yet), it's really kind of like a synagogue newsletter with personal flair. But I must admit that I've limited my facebook news feed - to the friends who are nearest and dearest, or at least those who lead the most interesting and intellectual lives publicly via the site. I don't take issue with life cycle events. I love getting that information. And, I'll put it politely as possible, it's not that I don't like you for having the free time to take 20 quizzes a day or share your laundry habits with me, it's that I don't want to resent you for it. So, often, I decide that I've just got to let your updates go buhbye... at least, until it's 2am and I can't fall asleep and hit the "63 hidden posts" feed. If you don't know how to hide posts or applications, it's a simple click of the little button as you scroll over the right side of your news feed. Now as new people "friend" you, you can choose whether to include them in your feed.

The truth is that having over 1,000 facebook friends means that at certain times of day I can't realistically scan all of the things that appear on my news feed. I post at those peak times too - the 7-8:45am, 12-2pm, 5-6pm rushes... I love you all for it. We're such good employees that we don't want to "play" on facebook while we should be working. There are studies about what a distraction it is, there are others saying it helps us focus... either way... good for you for working hard.

I find it especially enticing to "play" on facebook because it's right there on my phone. When I'm stuck on the bus or just waiting around, it passes the time. Here's also to admitting that I do like being connected and in the know about all of my friends. But now that summer has started and I have something calendared for every night of the week (more on all that in upcoming posts), I'm less likely to find myself with spare time. So here are the lurking questions - if I'm spending time playing a game online with a friend, why am I not taking that time to talk to him or her? When I play scrabble with someone in person, we jest, we interact. Getting a notification doesn't quite compare to those moments. I am left, still, questioning the value of facebook vs face time.

So, with that in mind, the steps I've taken thus far include a vigorous cleaning up my news feed. A while ago I made sure that none of my applications post to my news feed. You don't need to know about my addiction to mafia wars. I've thought about cleaning up who I share my own updates with too, but I'm not sure if that's more offensive than just living my life out loud. Larry raises a good point - I used the extreme examples because they are extremes. But when I'm finding the time to post a wall update but not make a personal call or write an email, am I breaking down relationships instead of building them?

What it is great for:

Advice! All you people are so knowledgeable! Whether I need a recipe STAT, consumer advice, computer freak outs, or a suggestion for great drinks, you all know where it's at and are happy to share. Thank you for being able to contribute to my awareness that google does not know it all.
Sharing (actual) news: I hardly need to read CNN, with 5 of my friends posting responses to news events and great articles like the "Gayby Boom" and I love that the NYT feed keeps me updated, if there are a few too many plane accidents and incidents for my liking.
Insights: Hey, I liked your AIM away messages once upon a time, inspired or inspiring, share it with me
Making contact: I've lived many places in my life, participated in many different activities and meet new people all the time - what a great way to reunite. But ... Oh, I am so guilty of this it hurts. There are instances when taking it from FB to reality is a natural next step - I still haven't called a childhood friend to catch up. She asked me to do so months ago. (Now that I've admitted it, I plan to try her this afternoon.)
Travel: More than in the advice category of planning a trip. We move around a lot. I'm headed to DC this afternoon and used FB to check who's there. Better, after emailing a few friends to let them know, I not only had restuarant suggestions and plans, but multiple offers for a place to stay. You guys are godsends. I'm also hosting up a storm this summer of passers-thru NYC. It's just great for us all to be so connected.

Despite all of that, I will still question your "last minute tickets" posts, because I hope that you called/emailed your core friends/family/colleagues first to offer them those hot spots next to you. I will wonder how you find the time to take twenty quizzes when the best books you read were 10 years ago in college. I do it to myself, so I'll do it to you. I'm also almost likely to be entertained if the quiz is really pertinent - which Ivy are you, which 80s toy - gosh that's cute.

I also want to address the extremes one last time. I have the utmost respect for my friends who managed to make the list of phone calls and share the news with me personally before their engagements hit the internet. These women know who they are. I couldn't be happier or prouder to have received these calls, because it connotes a certain tone of intimacy that many of us are just losing in our relationships. I was also asked in certain of these instances to keep the buzz of excitement off the internet for a while. Props to you all for remembering how to communicate with the world. Similar props to the email birth announcement, so great to see a picture of your daughter in my inbox only hours after she was born.

I must admit, that sometimes I hide behind facebook (or emails) to avoid using my words. I am not sure that I have ever done it with the intention to hurt any more than I have made the decision not to invite someone to a party or a meal with the best of all possible intentions - to surround myself with the people who I love most, who support me most, and to whom I would give the utmost support. So, if in the process you're entertained knowing about my ventures or reactions, I'll try to keep those breif posts upbeat and avoid the mundane that will have you hiding me from your own news feed.
Are you considering treating facebook differently? I didn't even consider work ramifications, networking or resourcing friends for more than travel. What changes have you made or might you?