10 Tishrei 5774

Yom Kippur

A wonderful talented young man died this past week. He was the track/running coach and english teacher at our local high school. I only knew him briefly and from a distance, but that is all it took to realize the impact he was having on the world. He was an amazing soul, making an enormous dent in tikkun olam-repairing the world. As I grappled with the injustice of such a loss, I turned to face Yom Kippur.

On Yom Kippur we are also asked to face death in a very tangible way. We rehearse. We abstain from eating, drinking, bathing, and even sex for 24 hours. We reflect, repent and try to set things right between us and God, us and our loved ones. We wear white. Some even wear a ‘kittel’, the white shroud Jews are buried in.

This brought up my own fear of dying young. I fear dying before I have really lived. I have nightmares of leaving my children to grow up without a mother. I am not done yet!

Although repentance and forgiveness of sins is the focus of this day, I am getting weary of always beating myself up for either being ‘too much’ or ‘not enough’. Of always examining every little thing I didn’t do exactly right. I decided that I would take a little different angle this year. My fear of dying.

It is not like I get to be in control of it anyway. We would like to think we are invincible. We would like to distance ourselves from death and think that it won’t happen to us. We would like to think we can plan our futures. But honestly, every single day is a gift. I know that I, at least, assume way too many times, that there is always another one where that one came from. So how can I accept the reality of how fragile my life is and still let go of this fear? How can I turn it over to God and have peace?

What came to mind was a phrase we use at Passover, Dayeinu. During the Passover Seder we break down each step of the journey out of Egypt and say after it, Dayeinu. Meaning, that if we had only been given that one step of the journey, it would have been enough. I know that I am not done with my journey here on earth, but if I don’t make it into the “Book of Life” for another year, then somehow it has to have been enough.

How in the world could I look at my life and say, “If this is all I get Lord, then it will have been enough”???

The thing I always seem to come back to is…Gratitude.

I thought about how I wish my kids could look at all they have and realize that it is enough. Instead of always bugging me for more. More toys, more clothes, more shoes, more more more. They have more than enough. More than enough love, attention, toys, clothes, friends, food, shelter…They just don’t have the perspective to see it. Maybe I don’t have the best perspective either.

So as simplistic as it may sound, I decided that I would set aside beating my self up for all my sins (for once) and focus this Yom Kippur on all I have to be thankful for. I could certainly use the practice. Try, through my hunger and thirst, to look around and open my eyes to all the miracles, wonders and amazing souls in my life. Try to be thankful for this gift of a life. All the good times and the hard times. Focusing on this, I realize that even the really hard things have opened me up to see the deep love holding and supporting me. Working at this perspective might just help me let go of my fear. Maybe

But what else?

Maybe there is one little thing I can stretch myself to do to make sure that I have tried to make today “enough”.

For me that is setting aside my fear of speaking up. It is bringing my courage to the front of the room and setting down my armor to reveal my heart. It is making sure I thank the people in my life who love and support me. It is taking my shoes off and walking barefoot to and from services. It is lying on the park bench and closing my eyes to drink in the sun and the happy sounds of my children playing. (to the Pinchot family who happened by at that moment, I know it LOOKED like I was fast asleep and oblivious to my children running wild through the park, but I was really just ‘watching with my eyes closed’.  Thank you for not judging :)). It is sharing my simplistic view in a blog post, when I know there are so many learned Jews out there with more intelligent things to say about this holiday.

I pray I, and all the wonderful people in my life, will be granted another beautiful year. I pray I set it right with any one I hurt. I pray I can do better this year. I pray I can see my life with more thankful eyes. I pray that I can return to my true self and be strengthened as I continue my journey of tikkun halev-repairing the heart, tikkun hanefesh-repairing the soul and tikkun olam-repairing the world. And most of all, I pray that no matter what happens this year I will be able to say it was enough.

דַּיֵּנוּ

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opportunities for connection

Morning Meltdowns

My sweet child, Hannah has a set of lungs on her like nobody’s business. When she puts her mind to it, she can break glass. I always know it is coming too, when I see her close her eyes, ball her little fists up at her side and open her mouth wide. There is a delayed reaction of maybe 5 seconds of silence. Just enough time to run for cover. Otherwise you are gonna have hot scream blowing in your face.

That was how the morning went. Second grade is still sometimes a heart wrenching separation. The day before, the whole class had to lose 3 minutes of recess due to talking. Devastating. Though Hannah was not one of them, she was part of the consequence. That was a lot of tears to process. I had the thought last night, that it might be a tough morning. There is a long bus ride to school that is hard for little ones. Who do I sit with? What if a bigger kid says something mean to me? Then she found out that it was not her day to have the ipod to play on the bus. Then I said I would not be able to drive her, to relieve her from this bus ride.

I saw it coming. The eyes closed, fists balled, mouth open…I braced myself. Yep. Girl has got some lungs!!

The problem is I didn’t see it going. Going away that is. Girl has also got some endurance!

That baby screamed at me the entire morning. Through getting dressed. Getting in the car. Buckling in. Driving to school. All the way until we parked at the bus.

I guess I am writing this because I have come a long way. I have handled meltdowns poorly so many times. There is not enough time to write about all those. So I am gonna write about what was good this time.

I am gonna write about what I have learned, and who I have learned it from that seems to be true.

Two people guided me through this morning. The first is my hero in the field of marriage and family, John Gottman. His book “The Heart of Parenting” talks about how to raise emotionally intelligent children. It also lays out the benefits these children with a high EQ have over other children. Here it is in a nutshell:

l. We have evolved, in part, because emotions are contagious. Negative emotions between parent and child especially so.

When my Hannah starts to belt one out, it makes my own body want to scream. (and ball my fists, lay down on the floor and stomp my feet). So the airlines say it best, “put the oxygen mask on yourself before you put one on your child”.

2. How our parents handled our negative emotions taught us what we know. They are our ‘feelings about feelings’. They are our attitudes about strong negative feelings in ourselves and our children. Many of our parents either dismissed them, swept them under the rug, ignored them, punished them or any other tactic possible to get them to go away. In their defense, refer back to #1.

I have also tried every one of these tactics. And I know better!

3. Parents of emotionally intelligent children view strong negative emotions as opportunities for connection.

What I don’t mean, is that they give in to terrorists demands or allow themselves to be smacked and mistreated. When in the middle of a ‘hot mess’ of screaming and kicking, no one can really connect. But what they do, is hang on to themselves. Put the oxygen mask on and breathe.

I didn’t give in to Hannah this morning. It was not her turn with the Ipod. I was not willing to drive her to school. She had to get on the bus. Period. But I was able to stay compassionate about the real issue. That this is hard for her. I shared my own struggle with going to school at her age. I cried every single solitary day going to school. I shared her brother’s struggle when he was her age. He would brace his arms and legs against the door jam, and I would pry him through it to get him in the car. All this was between her screaming at me, “Your a mean mommy! This is all your fault!” of course. But when we got there and she faced the bus, her tears were dry, and she didn’t have to go to school feeling disconnected from me. She knew I got it. She knew she was “worthy of love and belonging” to quote Brene Brown.

And that brings me to the second person I can thank for guiding me this morning…Nana. Richard’s grandmother. I never ever saw her lose her cool. She was calm and kind and compassionate to every single person she came in contact with. And her word was law. Because she was so respectful of others, she got that back. I think that we can punish and scream at our kids to get them to be respectful and kind, or we can BE respectful and kind to them and show them how it is done.

I am sure that I will mess it up again in the future. Lose my handle on myself. Get angry at this tantrum that is ruining my morning. So I ask forgiveness now. That is the gist of this “Day of Atonement” we are headed into Friday night. We admit to God that we are gonna make a bunch of promises to be better this year, and then we acknowledge that we are gonna for sure mess up. So please forgive us.

And what a loving parent God is, to give us another chance, knowing that we are for sure gonna mess it up. I look at my own kids and think that if they learn from their messes then they aren’t really messes after all. I will always be ready with a hug and another chance. I just have to remember to give that to myself too. We get it right sometimes, and other times we don’t. It is most definitely a work in progress.

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A Blessing

The Gift of a Friend

High Holidays…  Every year as these very important days approach I vow I am gonna stay relaxed.  I am not gonna let it stress me out.  Every year I get a little bit better at not freaking out.  But no matter how much I practice my breathing, there comes a point as these days approach, that I feel an invisible hand on my throat with a vice like grip getting tighter and tighter.  My breathing becomes more shallow and then I FREAK OUT!  I feel like I can’t breath and I want to cry, but I can’t breath!  And I am sure I will suffocate.

What is this invisible hand that is trying to choke me to death?  Why can’t I stay focused on the religious and spiritual meaning of the holidays?  What is wrong with me?!?!

I have some ideas about this, but I am not exactly sure.  There is the fact that I am a fairly “new Jew” and just have some insecurity issues.  It takes a lifetime of learning to really dig deep into the religious prayer and meaning and language.  I have had babies consistently since I became a Jew, so I am a little behind in the study department.  I don’t know the language that orthodox services are delivered.  There is the pressure I put on myself to rise above all this lack of knowledge and provide an amazing experience for my kids.  There is the fear that if I don’t provide that amazing experience for my kids, they will grow up, leave home and I will never see them on holidays again.  I will be one of those lonely old moms going to services I don’t understand all by myself.   There is the fact that Noah is actually graduating from high school this year and that fear is that much closer.  Staring me in the face close!  There is the socializing that my introverted self must go through to achieve this amazing experience for my children.  There is the cooking and cleaning involved in order to have people over to provide this amazing socializing experience for my kids.

I think the freak out moment came this year when I tried to find my dining room table under the pile of clean laundry on top of it.  When I say ‘pile of clean laundry’ what I mean is:  Every piece of clothing in our house was dirty, got washed, got piled on my table and was waiting patiently to be folded and put away.  What I also mean is, that every person in my family was perfectly happy  to walk BY this pile making no effort to help it disappear off my table.  Aside from digging THROUGH the pile to find the one clean thing they needed to wear.

So…FREAK OUT!!!!!!!!!!!

And then what always happens next…

Call Edie.

Edie is my soul mate sister on earth.  She is my spiritual guide and life line in life.  She is the person who knows the most about what hurts my heart and never judges me.  Never.  Ever.  She is probably one of the wisest people I have ever had the privilege to know.  And knowing her is a blessing.

She first made me laugh at my predicament.  Then helped me breathe.  Then let me cry.  Then with her Southern Baptist upbringing spiritually set me straight.  We have some crazy unrelated, incompatible religious backgrounds and yet, we speak the same spiritual language.  We both agree that God is God and the rest of it is a work in progress.

After she set me straight, (again) I sat on my back porch and wrote down all that I had to be grateful for on this New Year.  This holiday that is supposed to crown God as King.  I thought about how real God is in my life.  I thought about how much God has done for me, personally.  I realized, God is King alright.  And the rest of it is a work in progress.

So that amazing experience I want for my kids?  I hope it is this.  That God is King in their lives.  That they have every thing to be thankful for and the ability to see it.  And when they can’t,  that they are blessed enough to have an “Edie” in their lives to hold and guide them along the way.  Thank you my dear dear sweet friend.  I would be lost without you.

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A balanced sensory diet

Barefoot Baby

I have a reputation for being a bit of a tree hugger.

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This reputation began many years ago when I gave up snickers and coca cola for breakfast and started making muffins with vegetables in them and making shakes that were green. I think it became permanent when I tried to convert my family to Vegan. It didn’t work. They are quite carnivorous, but I am still always on the quest for a more balanced healthy way to live.

After learning to run in my 40’s, I found total peace running on the wooded trails near my house. My love for being in nature grew even more this summer as I began learning about a type of exercise called MovNat. (See movnat.com “the workout the world forgot”). All of a sudden, a whole new way of interacting with the environment opened up. Even though we didn’t take exotic trips anywhere, this summer was full of adventure, learning to climb trees and pretty much anything else we could scale. I became ‘that parent’ at the park swinging on the monkey bars and letting my kids climb where everybody else was saying, ‘no don’t’. (This hasn’t helped my reputation by the way). I do still shave my underarms in case you are really worried. At least in the summer. 😉

So what does this have to do with being barefoot? Well, I seem to be putting less and less on my feet as I become more involved with nature. It is pretty much common knowledge in many areas of child development that bare feet develop better than shod ones. Not to mention the sensory input we get from our feet when we take our shoes off. Even as a kid, there was nothing I liked better than having my feet rubbed. (Mom I can see you nodding emphatically).

So when my kids asked if they could take their shoes off, I would wrestle that fear of puncture wounds away, and say ‘sure’!! Then I would survey the ground around them looking for deadly sharp objects that might leap out at them. I slowly relaxed and only did a quick survey for hypodermic needles when the shoes came off. Finally, about a week ago, I turned a corner when I told the kids we were ALL walking the half mile to the park..,barefoot. We didn’t even put the shoes on to have to take them off! It was an ‘aha’ experience. It was a moment of true freedom. The first couple of walks were almost painful. It felt like I lost some skin. But, it now feels damn luxurious. We do this ritual of walking barefoot to the park every night now. The air is cooling down but the warmth of the day is still there for your feet to soak up. It is so sensory! We climb and swing and jump around and then walk home to go to bed. My kids are joyful. They feel like they are getting away with something.

I have some friends that would like to take this moment to remind me of the surgery Zeke had to undergo to remove glass from his foot before he was 2 years old!! So I would like to take this moment to remind THEM that he got that piece of glass stuck in his foot in our kitchen! So yes, when a glass gets broken in my house I am a woman possessed. But I am learning not to fear EVERY THING. The boogie man is not around every corner.

Now as I face many days of walking the mile to synagogue for high holiday services, either in dress up shoes that render you crippled by the time you hobble in the door, or searching for an elegant pair of tennis shoes to get you there while toting your heels, there is finally a third choice. One I will be choosing. Yep, I will be the orthodox woman all dressed up walking barefoot with a big smile on her face!

Barefoot Baby!

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A New Year

Rosh Hashana is almost here!!  The Jewish New Year.  A time of letting go of old patterns and charting new territory.  In my family, this seems to be the time for embarking on a new journey.  Monday morning bright and early (or early and DARK) marked the kick off.

5:00 am Richard flew to Portland Maine to start in his new position as VP of Sales and Distribution for Unum.

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Breakfast for the first day of school soon followed at 6:30 am

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Much thought was put into the ‘perfect outfit’ for this big day.  Everyone was a bit sleepy but super excited to see their classrooms, friends and teachers.

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Well, almost everybody.  Some people in our family (we will not name names) were still finishing last minute work that had to be turned in on the first day of school.  That someone is a big shot senior this year and gonna rock the house!!

In spite of all the butterflies, mine included, we made it to school on time and everyone got big hugs and love from their friends and much loved teachers.

Hannah is with Noah and Micah’s former (and adored) teachers in second grade.

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Micah and Noah got time to compare notes at the end of this day on teachers that she has now that were his in 7th grade.

And Zeke is super happy to be in preschool for one more year.   Image

The person you don’t see in the pictures is me.  I am the person making sure that everyone in my family has the support they need to get out the door onto their new path.  But, I have a new path up my sleeve too.  Once everyone is taken care of, I have a little bit of time now to begin my work again as a Marriage and Family Therapist.  🙂  They’re not the only ones that get to have a new path!!

In Judaism we have a special prayer that we say when we experience something for the first time.  It is called the Shehecheyanu.  We have so much to be thankful for.  We are looking forward to all the blessings that this New Year will bring.

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To a Sweet and Happy New Year from our family to yours.

 

A New Year

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The best of the best

The Sweet Spot

School starts in less than 2 weeks.  The weather is unbelievably beautiful.  My kids have re-bonded from being together all summer.  It is the first time in 17 years that our youngest is turning 5 and we don’t have a baby or one about to be born.  Aside from wiping the occasional tush, everyone is toilet trained, can get in and out of their own car seat,  put on their own clothes and shoes, and even help with chores.  There are no more strollers or cribs or baby bjorn to lug around.  In fact, we can even go out for an activity without having to carry the kitchen sink!  We actually just get in the car, I start it and we go.  Life is good.

So after leaving my kids in charge of each other while I ran 6 miles and then picked up food for dinner today, we went for a long hike in the woods.   It was heavenly.

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It was only a matter of time before they found water.  And then only a matter of time before the shoes came off and everyone was in the water!

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Then it was only a shorter matter of time before Zeke was completely wet.  You will notice the water line on his shirt is up to his chin.  Hannah soon followed.  They found live craw dads and had a few playful dogs join them in the water.  There was lots of screaming and laughing and…

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Mud 🙂  lots of mud!

It was just so much fun.  I am not sure how it could get any better to be honest with you.  I guess if Noah had been splashing around with them instead of working it would have been perfect.  But having my big guy growing up so beautifully is also perfect.

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The sweet spot.

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make it mean something

Comfort with Discomfort

I am restarting a career after 17 years of raising kids.  This is causing some discomfort for me and my family.  For me, there is the learning curve of the details and logistics of my practice, the rusty feeling of getting my brain to work in this way again and the juggling of adding something to my plate with a little one still at home.  For my family, there is the pain of added responsibility for themselves and each other.  Giving up some perks of always having mom there to put their needs and schedules first.  Yet, I am not shying away from this discomfort.  I am going right through the middle of it!   Feeling it all.   I am not as afraid of this ‘pain of change’ as I used to be.

Last week, I was sharing this discomfort with colleagues.  Yay!!  I have colleagues.  One of them made a comment that planted a seed of thought.  He said something to the effect of having the values to sit with and push through the discomfort.

It took me back to the beginning.  17 years ago when I first became a parent.

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This transition from self-sufficient independent person to responsible for another life 24/7 was the most difficult transition I have ever made.  Turns out, I learned after the fact, babies cry.  They cry when they are hungry, they cry when they are tired, they cry when something hurts, they cry when you put them down, they cry when someone else picks them up, they cry at loud noises…sometimes they just cry.  I am sure other parents out there will agree that your own pain pales in comparison with your child’s.   This baby crying was unbearable for me.  I looked at pain (emotional and/or physical) as bad and on the ‘to be avoided list’… at all costs.

There were a few times the first two weeks of this ‘pain of change’  that I thought I was dying.  Turns out, those were just panic attacks.  Still thought I was a goner though.   My unrealistic romantic view of being the perfect mommy had endured its first crack in the enamel.   I didn’t let go though.  Oh no.  I held on to that illusion and here is how:

Child #1:  NEVER let that baby work out frustration on his own.  Step in at the first sign of a whimper.  Take out anyone, including husband, if perceived to cause said crying.  Never let anyone make a sound or breathe when baby is sleeping for fear of waking and causing…crying.   It wasn’t pretty.

When Child #1 became a toddler take out anyone on the playground who is perceived as being mean to my child.  Other children are not exempt.  Haven’t you seen the episode of Modern Family when Cam takes out a kindergartner who was not nice to Lily?   This is just good parenting!!   Pacifier till he was 5…sure.  Family bed…great!

Child #2:  This child screamed from the time she was 2 weeks old.  She is still screaming.  She is screaming right now.  She had a lot of tummy aches that I could do nothing to alleviate.  I tried.  Our bed was starting to get a little on the crowded side.  No one was sleeping.  I was a wreck.  Perfect mommy illusion had gone from being cracked to big gaping hole.

Child #2 became a toddler and entered her ‘challenge authority’ phase.  She was the one taking others out on the playground.  Other parents not exempt.  I was the one not getting asked back to play.   I worked hard to outsmart this child.   I am pretty sure she taught me more than I taught her.  I learned that if you enter into a power struggle with a child, you may win the battle but you WILL lose the war.  I learned that if you give in just to get the crying to stop you will pay later.  You always do.  I learned to never judge other parents harshly, especially in grocery stores.    There is a good chance that one day you will BE that parent.  I learned that some pain and discomfort is necessary to make progress.  I learned that becoming clear about my values could help me find my way through begging, crying, kicking, and screaming.

One day on a grocery trip, there was some begging and threatening for some junky thing that I abhorred.   This would cause a prickly sweaty feeling to come over me.  The foreshadowing of an embarrassing moment.  It was tempting to give in, but I knew that my values were strongly against the treat and the begging/threatening to get it.  So I said, ‘no’.  This resulted in a VERY LOUD tantrum that I could not even pick her up and leave the store.  I had to just sit down in the middle of the narrow crowded aisle and sit it out. There was a lot of staring.  Kind of like the morbid curiosity of drivers passing a car wreck.  I learned humility.  As I was walking out of the store with my tail between my legs and my head hanging pretty low, a woman stopped  and praised me for doing the right thing in spite of the embarrassment.  I almost kissed her.  I have never forgotten her kindness.  I learned that I was not perfect and never gonna be.  I still thought it was just my failing though.  Everybody else seemed to have it figured out.  It was just me.

I was learning to deal with discomfort.  It hurt a lot.  I also learned that it passes.  It doesn’t last forever.  Especially if you keep your values front and center.  Life is full of struggle.  Sometimes we have to embrace that struggle to grow.

child#3:  This is the child that I decided I would take discomfort by the horns.  I was gonna BEAT discomfort.  This child ‘cried it out’ in her crib from day one.  Ok this might have been a little extreme.  The pendulum swinging a little to the right.  She seems ok and is my best sleeper, but it was child #4 before I finally got the balance needed.  Discomfort is sometimes necessary but with a gentle touch.  Our children need to learn to handle discomfort with our kindness and compassion never our anger or rigidity.  I think this child #4 got the best deal.  Maybe it was because we were a cross between parents and grandparents when he came along.   Richard and I both say we were finally grown up enough to have a baby.

Looking back I wonder why I had to learn all this the hard way?  It would have been nice to know then what I know now.  Why couldn’t I have been more relaxed the first time around?   And yet, one of the hardest things about trying to be a family therapist then was not having had all this experience and struggle on the front lines.   Hard earned experience through hand to hand combat.

So I am going back to work and we are all uncomfortable in this ‘pain of change’.  As with any new discomfort there is that panicky feeling that it won’t pass this time.  That we won’t make it through to the other side.  Thankfully, I have clarity of my values to help me hang in there.  That my children will benefit from more responsibility.  That it is good for them to see their mom find meaningful work that is not them.  That my marriage will be better with more balance in the roles of caregiver and money maker.   I have lots of battle scars to help me keep faith that it will pass.  That we will get to the other side where it flows like we have been doing it all along.

And I have my  fingers crossed that I am right.

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A spiritual journey

A Walk In The Woods

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Money has been a little tight at the Shaffer house for the past year or so.  I am restarting a career and Richard is changing direction within his industry.  We have been putting 4 kids through Solomon Schechter Jewish Day School and then Ida Crown Jewish Academy for many many years.  So things are tight.  I get accused of making understatements, but let’s just leave it at that.

I am starting to wonder if there aren’t some real blessings in this for all of us.  As a free activity this week I took my kids to the forest preserve by our house.  It is actually a place I love to spend time running.  I call it the path to Eli’s house.  Eli is a name I have for God that comes from my favorite children’s book by Max Lucado.  It is where I feel Eli the most.  But I haven’t been taking the kids there so much.  And if money weren’t so tight, we probably wouldn’t have been there this week!

I packed a picnic, herded my 3 younger ones to the car and off we went.  It was one of my favorite experiences this summer so far.  We found a perfect spot to practice balancing, bear crawling and jumping on and off a log.  We climbed trees.  They were wild, loud and joyful.  I didn’t have to say ‘no, don’t’ even once.  After a few face plants in the dirt from all the jumping, we recovered and proceeded to spend another hour exploring the trails.

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There were squeals and shouting every time we came across a bug, spider, dragonfly, or any other little creature.  They picked up rocks and threw them into the river.  We passed lots of dogs with their owners, and horses with their riders.  Their little bodies jumped, skipped, raced, ran and moved in every way they knew how.  It was like they had been set free from some type of bondage we don’t even know we are in until we are out.  When they began to get tired, they took off their shoes and walked, ran and carried each other the rest of the way back.  There was not a single whine the entire time.  It seemed to meet each child’s needs regardless of age difference.  There was no gift shop at the end to cause conflict.  We got in the car to go home worn out and peaceful.

Not having money to spend whenever I want is teaching me a lot.  I have been learning what my parents went through at this same time in their lives.  I had no idea.  I thought they just didn’t want to have heat in our bedrooms growing up!  That we didn’t eat out because they loved their own cooking.   I thought my mom made all our clothes because she just liked to sew.  I never thought we were poor.  I actually thought we had more than most.  I am learning that having or not having money is not a character judgement.  The two things are not related.  And I am being reassured that it is temporary.  Money ebbs and flows in our lives.  What we do with that information is character development.

So maybe we are walking this path in our lives right now for good reason.  Maybe we are learning how to “be” and be thankful for what we have.  Maybe it is us parents that need to learn this more than our kids.  Maybe we just have to keep our kids from unlearning it.  Hopefully we can hang onto this lesson of what we don’t need…to always accumulate more stuff, when money is easier.  Maybe this is the real path to Eli’s house.  We are definitely becoming more humbled in our shoes.  Our worn out one pair of shoes.

Maybe my kids will look back and think that their mom just liked taking them to the woods instead of the mall.  They will be right.

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Uncategorized

Zeke’s rendition of The Green Goblin

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A spiritual journey

Building Bridges I May Never Cross

ImageIt would be an understatement to say that I knew about Judaism as a child growing up in coastal North Carolina.  My parents showed me God was there for sure, front and center.  But we were not very religious.  My mother was Presbyterian.  My father was a recovering Roman Catholic.   Judaism was not even a blip on the screen.  The first time I met a “Jew” was in graduate school.  He was so cute I married him!

I still knew nothing about Judaism.  The things I had learned I could count on one hand.

1.  That it was good.  Richard introduced his faith to me through his eyes.  I liked what I saw.

2.  That it was important to this man I loved.

3.  That he was not even going to take me to the movies unless I promised my children would be Jewish.

So I promised.  We went to the movies.  We got married.

The Rabbi’s and Ministers didn’t quite know what to do with us.  I wasn’t converting for marriage (I had only promised my children, hello!!!) so what side of the fence were we on?   Our wedding was officiated by a Justice of the Peace.

We had Noah, our first child.  I had learned a few more things about Judaism by this point.  4.  It had it’s flaws just like all religions because it was run by people.

5.  It was more than a religion.  It was a way of living.

6.  It would probably take me a life time to learn about this.  I was starting a little late in the game.  I was just beginning to know what I didn’t know.

At this time in my life I learned something else.  Something more important…  Children are born with a light inside them.  I am going to say something really politically/religiously incorrect right now so get ready…

I didn’t care what religion we were.  There I said it.  I would have been fine with Christianity, Judaism, Buddhism.  I just wanted to nurture that light inside my child that was love and God and goodness.  I wanted my child to know God like I knew God.  Front and center, always there, always loving you, period.

So we started.  We joined a synagogue and went with Noah to services.  We celebrated the Jewish holidays.  Noah went to a religious private school.  Ok, it was an Episcopal school but it was the closest thing Chattanooga TN had, work with me here.  They honored everything Jewish we, in our limited knowledge, could bring to them.  Noah learned about Christmas and Easter, and I came and taught his class about Hanukkah and Passover.  Well, that was how we had hoped it would work.  It was going pretty well until it was time for me to teach about Passover.  Noah came to me and asked me not to come.  “Mom, I don’t want you to come teach about Passover.”  What?  Why?

He was ashamed.  He was the only Jew in the whole school.  He didn’t want to be different.

I took a long walk by myself and cried.  I could see the light dimming inside of him.  How could I expect this child to embrace being the only one of his faith in the entire school and jump up and down with excitement?  I had been naive.  I told Richard we had to change our course.  I could not bear seeing the light go out in my child.  Hell, I would be Christian if that is what it would take!  (another religiously incorrect statement, I am full of them actually.  They keep telling me it is not like changing accessories.  You have to BE one or the other.  I keep telling them God is the one who just IS.

Well, to make a long story short.  Richard was not about to switch to Christianity so we decided to move to Chicago instead.  Yes, there is a connection.  He said there was a Jewish day school there.  Solomon Schechter Day School.  We went to take a look.  We took Noah with us.  He was 5 years old.

This child was so shy and scared when we got to the school that he refused to get out of the car.  After much persuading (and more prying) we got him out of the car and in the front door.  Let’s just say it was a game changer.  I literally saw the pilot light go on again.  His little eyes were as round as saucers as he watched first graders talk to each other in Hebrew.  He kept asking us if ALL the kids were Jewish.  We cried as we said yes, they are ALL Jewish.

Fast forward to Noah’s third grade year.  We had thrown our arms around this school and held on tight.  We let the bright light in our child lead us down the path.  We took our first trip to Israel as a family.

I found myself on a Kibbutz near the border of Jordan.  I was alone with Noah and Micah (who was 4 at the time).  We wanted to go for a walk but I was not sure which way was safe to go.  The only person to ask was the guard at the gate.  He spoke no English.  I spoke no Hebrew.  Hmm.  I tried speaking English LOUDER.  He tried speaking Hebrew LOUDER.  I tried making up sign language.  He just shook his head.  I looked around in frustration.  I could not build a bridge.  My eyes fell on Noah.  He was standing there in his patient way waiting for me to be the mom and figure out the plan.  But I couldn’t.  I asked him if he thought he could speak Hebrew to the guard and find out the directions we needed.  He nodded.  He stepped up to the guard and spoke with him (quietly sans hand gestures).  They both nodded, he walked back to me (I swear a little taller)  and translated the directions to me in English.

It was at THAT moment I realized something I will never forget.  I realized that I had helped build a bridge for my child.  A bridge I could not cross.  I was stuck on the shore, but he was able to go across.

Noah is in Israel at this very moment.  He is a senior in high school.  He is part of a leadership program called Write On For Israel.  He and 20 some other seniors from Chicago are meeting with top officials, diplomats, military officers, as well as, other teenagers just like them.  They are trying to understand, first hand, what is going on in Israel so they can come back and help others understand.  They heard many speak at the Presidential Conference on Tomorrow, including Prime Minister Netanyahu, and President Peres.  They spent Shabbat with his girlfriend’s family.  A large warm gathering of Israeli family and friends.  He said they started out speaking English but naturally digressed to Hebrew.  When we asked him did he feel out of place, he said “no, it felt like home”.

And so as I sit here writing this, I am reminded of that moment when I realized I was building a bridge for my children.  I have been building a bridge that I, as of yet, cannot walk across.  I do not yet feel comfortable in synagogue.  I do not know Hebrew.  I love Israel and all that it represents to me, but I am still a stranger there.

Yet, my children can walk across.  The light inside them is burning brightly and leading the way.  I am ok if I work at Judaism my whole life and am never able to cross that bridge.  It is more important that they go across.  They are the future.  There is so much hope in building bridges for the future.  Bridges that allow for more understanding of others.  Bridges that help us see our similarities more than our differences.  Bridges that break down barriers.  There lies the possibility for peace.  There is where God can be found.  Tikkun Olam, repairing the world, one child at a time.

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