A return to the Kotel

On the Friday morning between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Computer Cowboy and I prayed at the Kotel. Baruch Hashem, since we live in the Holiest City, getting there, especially since now, long after the war, that special bit of real estate has been restored to its appointed guardians, is as easy as finding a bus, hailing a cab, or turning on the ignition (from where my family lives, walking is mostly the province of the young or of the otherwise spirited).

Although my husband and I have been Blessed to pray at The Wall far more often than when we lived outside of Jerusalem, we are inspired anew each time we tread on its pavilion's cobblestones. That morning, as other times, we felt gifted with revelation.

Elul is for Sifting, Part IV

As discussed in Elul is for Sifting Part I, establishing a heuristic for our behavior (Torah is a good starting place) does not solve any of our problems associated with "coloring outside of the lines." Whereas sometimes it suits us to be unwavering in our worldly position, since this possible form of integrity can benefit our interpersonal relationships, and can aid our affiliation with greater society, it is also the case that at times, it is far better to be accommodating.

Consider the second line in Wisdom of the Fathers which directs us, after we have advocated for ourselves, to also think about other fellows. We can champion our rights without disrespecting our neighbors, we can defend our feelings, especially our entitlement to them, without literally or figuratively pushing, shoving, or marching insensitively past our family, and we can guardian our own truth without resorting to slandering someone else's.

Elul is for Sifting, Part III

Forward-thinking individuals often contemplate their futures. Parts of these ideations frequently include plans for career success. Such short-range, i.e. "New Year Plans," however, do not necessarily have to be limited to professional status.

Other foci with which we can concern ourselves include: our intrapersonal relationships, i.e. our relationships with ourselves, our relationships with people in our intimate circles, and our relationships with our Creator. All of these bits intersect professional interests, yet extending beyond those ends.

Consider self-development. Whereas we might be practiced at seeking and receiving encouragement, fellowship and joy from our relationships with others, it is also the case, that we must necessarily seek and receive encouragement, fellowship and joy from our relationships with ourselves.

Elul is for sifting, Part II: Judging favorably

It is so simple to pass judgment. A cognitive reflex, really, is usually the entirety of the substance behind such thoughts. As such, that type of mental movement casts our higher selves away, in favor of something base.

Sometimes such sliding is the result of habituated ideations. Other times, such toppling derives from sloppiness. We've chosen, for an instance, to relinquish the safeguarding of our most precious part. Other times, we simply don't know better.

Baruch Hashem, Elul heightens our awareness of such mentations, consequently allowing us to recast our thinking.

Elul is for sifting

Elul is for sifting. A year's harvest of deeds come ripe in this season and our work is to separate our fine choices from our coarse ones. Thereafter, it is possible either to filter our vulgar choices or to rid ourselves of our predilections to enact them.

Habituation is tough. Even if we are Blessed to be aware of which of our behaviors are undesirable (a movement that does not, unfortunately, always take place), it is far more difficult for us to want to change, and then to actually change, than it is for us to realize that change is appropriate.

My Friend's Shuk: More than apples or falafel

To me, the shuk is a place of wonder. From spice stalls, to bazaars crammed with all manners of dried fruit and nuts, to vegetable vendors, and to the best of fish mongers, the Jerusalem shuk, to me, is about culinary delights. I love the shuk.

To Missy Oldest, though, the Jerusalem shuk is a place to avoid. Too many young men from too many nations lie in wait there, ever ready to comment about her looks. Some whistle, others remark, aloud, sharing their unsolicited ideas about her beauty, in general, or about her natural hair color, specifically. She hates the shuk.

To a special family friend, who has merited living in this holy city for generations, the Jerusalem shuk is a market for goods. It's a place where savvy shoppers stand a reasonable chance of getting value for their shekels.  She tolerates the shuk.

The broken steps

There comes a time in many Israelis' lives, especially in the lives of folk who have barely dwelled here (consider the span indicated by "barely dwelled" to be equal to "roughly less than three generations"), when heart and soul need to be assessed anew. This past spring, I experienced one such span.

That moment occurred before my initial encounter with the "beetles" (see: "To Beetle or Not to Beetle," Jul 10, 2008), but long after my initial encounter with the lice (See: "Of Lice and Women," May 28, 2007 and "Rhetorical Strategies and Ambitious Wildlife," Nov. 20, 2006).  That point in time was marked: by a broken step, by a rut in a neighborhood parking lot, and by a visit from a millipede. All of those events converged on a Shabbot.

The broken step was almost the literal downfall of a much loved ben bayit. The parking lot rut found me plastered to the asphalt, and the millipede succeeded in waking up three floors' worth of guests. My life is abundant with excitement.

NBN's Jewish Bloggers' convention

I don't get out much. When I teach writing, it's either in a university classroom or in another limited venue. When I write, I seclude myself in the small area in which my laptop and printer live. When I dally, it's within the confines of a ceramics workshop or among imaginary daisies with imaginary hedgehogs.

Sometimes, though, it makes sense for me to leave my safety zones. One such occasion was Nefesh B'Nefesh's First Annual International Jewish Bloggers' Convention. I am a blogger. I am also a NBN aluma.

It seems that blogging was never meant to take the place of newspaper columns, but to replace them in social importance. Since blogs can enhance and create social networking, blogs have staked a place among the most relevant (read "convergent") of the social media. Blogs have become a significant social power. Blogs are the new media's "sexy."

Celebrating my boys

Whereas in my last entry, "Missing My Girls," August 10, 2008, I proffered my feelings about my daughters' place, both real and symbolic, in my family's home, it is insufficient to stop with that sort of appreciation. I am Blessed, as well, to have sons.

That sons are integral to Jewish family life has never been questioned. From brit milah and pinyon haben ceremonies through to saying Kaddish for deceased parents, male children, in general, are prized, by religious families, during all of the human life cycle.

More specifically, male children are prized in our religious family, during all of our life cycle. It is not so much that we value them because Boy-Getting-Taller is a martial artist extraordinaire (we're glad he's channeling all that nervous Israeli energy somewhere) or because Boy-Who-Needs-Books is especially facile with our colony of imaginary, desert-sprung hedgehogs (his extra calories go into creative, mental work. See: "Bad Little Things," Aug. 4, 2008)) as it is that our sons matter to us.

Missing my girls

Whereas it is the case that I love my husband and my sons, as is true with most moms, I have a special place inside of me which is reserved only for my daughters. Whenever Boy-Getting-Taller and Boy-Who-Needs-Books tease that is it gender that endears the girls to me, I respond that they're absolutely right.

Sure we're in the "differentiating stage," the place in life during which the girls, necessarily, have to develop identities distinct from their same gender parent, i.e. from me. Yet, we are also in the "discovery stage," the place in life during which the girls discover that many of their valued character traits have been passed on, whether via nature, or via nurture, be means of the conduit known as "Mom."