When Death Tried to Retire

Disclaimer:
I am well aware that death, depression, grief, anxiety and everything else mentioned in this piece are incredibly personal and private experiences. I am in no way making any form of statement, or passing judgment on those who deal with or have ever dealt with any of it. This is simply a creative piece born from a writing prompt, and I hope that everyone can read it with that understanding. There are allusions to suicide, depression, and grief. If those are things you are sensitive to, wait for my next blog post, I promise it won’t be this heavy.

I’ve been working at my job for thousands of years. For real – I’ve been here since the beginning of time. I was a good employee, I would imagine. I always fulfilled my duties, never complained, never questioned my task list, never protested. Well, there were a couple of times..and I actually won the argument with my Boss occasionally. But most of the time I accepted what I had to do, and separated my personal feelings from the task at hand.
But I’ve had enough.
I’ve been working this job for so long, and I’m ready for retirement. I’m ready for a life of pleasure, kicking it back..enjoying things a little bit. I’ve handed in my notice but turns out, I have to find my own replacement.
The old Boss made me promise I wouldn’t go off to my life of retirement until I’d found someone to handle my job. Apparently, the world can’t function for even one minute without someone doing my job.
So today the search begins.
I’ve made a list of prospective replacements.
To start, there’s Life.
Life is always complaining about her job. She’s always grumping about being unappreciated, and being taken advantage of. She’s always seemed so envious of my role.
“They’re afraid of you, Death! When you’re nearby, they do everything you say. Suddenly, I’m soooo important when you’re around, but as soon as you’re not there, they totally forget all the promises they made me.”
I can’t even tell you how many times she’s moaned and groaned to me about that. As if I could do anything about it.
Occasionally, we’ve worked together if she was particularly struggling with a task. I’d come close enough to really shake things up, but then I’d disappear before completing the job. She’s always been really grateful when I’ve done that. But so often, she’s frustrated that she even needs to call me in, that she can’t do it on her own.
So she’s definitely a possible candidate, she’d love to have my job.
Illness has always been a little wary of me. I’m not sure why, being that we often have to work together. It would just be easier for us get along..but she’s always whispering over there with Life about me, always judging me and openly admitting that she wishes I just wouldn’t show up to work some days.
Ouch.
I don’t think I’ll approach Illness at all..I’ve never gotten any friendly vibes, she always just shuts down when I’m around.
Skip that.
My friend Grief might be interested. He’s been around for as long as I can remember. Very rarely do I have a job that he’s not there for, and when I have a job that isn’t on his task list, it makes my job so much more unpleasant and depressing. But he’s so good at what he does, and he loves his work. He’s always talking about how rewarding it is to pass his job off to Life, how the work itself is so difficult and painful but the results of a successful job are so enriching. When he completes a task, he’s on a high until he gets to the next one.
I couldn’t take that away from him.

Depression! I can’t believe I forgot about that guy. He is obsessed with me, always following me around, always asking me questions about my job, always trying to secretly add to my task list. I’ve tried to force him and Life to hang out more, but they just couldn’t get along.

The truth is, it’s been lonely doing what I do.

As much as I love the others, I’ve never been anyone’s real best friend. Other than Depression that is, and that is very one way. Everyone has seemed to try to avoid me as much as possible. For example, the other day I walked into a party that Life was throwing. It looked amazing. Depression and Anxiety were in the corner, Grief was just moving to the music slightly, but you should have seen Illness. She was dancing it up in the center. Kindness was right up there with her, Generosity was the DJ, and you should have seen Love. I’ve never seen anything look more beautiful. She was surrounded by Gratitude and Appreciation, and they were just staring at her adoringly.

I watched all this from the outside and figured I’d join the party. As soon as I walked in though, it was as if the entire party shut down in an instant. Depression and Anxiety perked up, but everyone else just stared at me. Love began to cry, and I was only there for a couple of seconds before Life stormed up to me and pushed me with two hands.
“Get out of here, Death! Nobody wants you here! Just leave!”
So I did.
I cried all night long, wishing I was given a different role at the beginning of time. I would never be like them, I’d never be welcome. Grief once confided in me that every time he turned a corner, he hoped he would bump into Love or Life, always dreaming of them. I know that the only ones who dream about me are Depression and Hopelessness and I’m just not interested.
When I told the Boss I was thinking of retirement, I was met with extremely disappointed eyes.
“You’re great at your job, Death. Nobody can do what you do”
I took it as a compliment then, but I’m starting to realize it just might be the truth.

Nobody that hasn’t done my job since the beginning of time could possibly understand what I do.
Depression might think he wants to be me and have my job but I know who he needs to spend more time with. Understanding. Support. Happiness. Recovery. They’ve never wanted to hang out with me, and that’s how I know they’re much better for him.
My job is pretty horrible. But occasionally, my task list isn’t so bad.
Sometimes I get to work with Pride and Contentment. Occasionally, I get to work with Satisfaction. Those are the good times.
I’ll never forgive the Boss for the times He’s made me work with Evil and Cruelty. Anger. Fear. They are the worst of the worst, I’d say even less liked than me, but at least they have each other.
I do wish I had just one friend, one real friend, someone who understood me, and my role. Who understood that there are times it destroys me to carry out my task, but I know that it has to be done. That when I pass a task on to Grief or Heartbreak, nothing hurts more. But then when months later, I watch Grief and Life get to work together, or I see Support and Care working on one of my previous tasks, my heart is warmed.
So perhaps I won’t retire very soon.
But I’ll be renegotiating my terms.
I’ll be asking for a shorter task list, a much shorter task list. Because honestly, I think everyone’s getting a little tired of my job, especially me.
And I’ll let the Boss know that I refuse to work with Depression any longer. The more time he spends with me, the less he understands that he should really be striving to be like Life.
While I feel privileged to have such a unique job, I’m determined to be the only one who does what I do, no matter how lonely that makes me feel.
And while I’m talking to the Boss, I should really talk to Him about that crazy clique, that Evil-Cruelty clique. I’m not going to be doing any projects with them anymore either, no thank you.
And maybe, in a little while, when I do completely phase out and retire, maybe Life will be able to look at me without anger flashing in her eyes, and Love can spend some time with me without it always ending with her in tears. Maybe Grief will join me in retirement, and maybe I’ll finally be allowed to hang out at a party, as long as I promise that I really have retired and have no plans for a comeback.
It’ll come. That day will come.

Blog Post: 41/52

Featured Photo by Madison Grooms on Unsplash

A Letter To The Ocean

First,
May I begin with an apology,
For I know we all seem
Like we love hypocrisy.
 …
People flock to your shores
But when you try to come closer
We flee, put up walls, shut our doors.
  …
We humans throw ourselves
Inside of you
Aching to fight your current
Yearning for the challenge
Of keeping ourselves afloat.
Why do we do that?
  …

Ocean, a hypocrisy yourself.
Your water,
It gives life,
But in an instant,
It can take it.

 … 
Which kind of reminds me of myself.
I am inherently good,
A creation of G-d.
Yet sometimes I feel closer to evil,
Destructive,
Of mind, body and soul.
  …
Your roar is both silent
And loud at the same time.
Your waves are both menacing
And welcoming.
You are paradise
And destruction.
  …
And I love every moment
I get to share with you.
As you wash away my pain,
My tears disguised
As your own.
You hold so many of my memories,
Sweet ones,
Summer ones.
  …
You’re endless in the way
That I need.
A reminder that there is no limit
To your vastness
That there is no limit
to greatness.
No limit
to joy.
  …
So I thank you
for even though you know I can’t stay
You’ve welcomed me
Again and again,
To get lost
For as long as I need.
  …

Blog Post: 40/52

Featured photo by Karl Frederickson via Unsplash.

Here’s To Life

As another school year ends, and another summer begins, I am once again taken aback at how quickly time seems to go.

As a kid, it would stretch on forever, endlessly, the wait to grow up was so long.
I remember hearing my parents talk about quick years and I couldn’t begin to understand them. A year was a lifetime.
While I’m certainly not as old as my parents are just yet, I’m starting to notice how quickly the years go by. As I count on my fingers how long it’s been since I graduated high school, or spent a summer in Atlanta, I realize that time is slipping through those fingers in a frightening way.
Taking advantage of time is so difficult, for it moves so quickly, and it’s so much easier to watch the sand fall in the time-glass and exclaim at how fast it’s going than it is to take life by the horns, ignore the time-glass and LIVE.
As my summer begins, and I am quite privileged to still have a summer, it’s easy to make all sorts of resolutions for the summer days. I’m going to eat clean, and go swimming every day, live each summer day from dawn until dusk, and soak in every ray of sun and every memory of laughter filled evenings around a fire.
But alas, I know that summer is not all that different from winter in the sense that it passes you by, and you find yourself at the end of it before you know it.
I have an exciting summer ahead, and I’m looking forward to it. Yet I am afraid of myself wasting it away, watching the clock, trying to slow it.
I often catch myself escalating my expectations for myself, lifting the bar much too high, setting myself up for failure. For while reaching for the stars is important, sometimes my capabilities don’t match my goals.
And then I find myself frustrated at my inability to keep on track.
If you’re a loyal reader, then you know that I struggle to live in the moment, and this is only a sub-plot of that story in my life. I want the very best for my future self, but my current self often struggles to keep up.
This summer, I’ll be traveling to Europe. Next year, I’ll be chasing some bigger dreams, the next chapter I’ve been waiting to start for a long time now. A chapter that will allow for bigger and better. That will allow me to start acting on all the things I talk about.
And that makes me excited – all of it. New goals, new adventures.
But for now, I want to work so hard on the day-by-day. To not think about when the summer ends, and when next year begins, and about endings and beginnings. I don’t want to day-dream about a time that is not in my present life, I don’t want to mope about things I don’t have yet.
I want to live.
Because time does go by in the blink of an eye, but it goes even quicker when you’ve got your eyes on the finish line.
I’ve recently begun meditation as a part of a course I was taking. It’s an experiment to see what happens to me when I take some time to just focus.
The first few times were tough. I was all over the place, my brain could not stop thinking about my to-do list, and what I was going to do as soon as I stood up.
But the next few times, I just focused on the breathing. Each time my mind wandered, I yanked it back. Not to think about anything – only to feel the breath go in, and out.
Because sometimes, life just requires presence. No planning, no thinking, no dreaming.
Just. Pure. Presence.
It’s what I struggle with most.
It’s what I want most from my summer.
So here goes tackling one major obstacle, and here’s to overcoming it. For I know that it will pay itself back in my life in a million ways, so no matter how hard, it’s certainly worth it.
So instead of worrying about how time flies, and how the summer will be gone before I know it, I will focus on today, and how I’m going to make it count.
Tomorrow, I will focus on tomorrow.
Blog Post: 39/52

Featured Photo by Srikanta H. U on Unsplash

What is Beauty to Me?

In a world of beauty,
and a world
of ugly,
what
is
beauty
to me?
oooo
A heart ripped open
beating
pulsing
a heart worn
on one’s sleeve:
that is beauty
to me.
oooo
A plate filled
with warm flavors,
warm laughter,
a moment
together:
that is beauty
to me.
oooo
A handwritten letter,
a smeared edge,
thought
put into
each word:
that is beauty
to me.
oooo
A small face streaked
with leftover
dinner
sticky hands
a bright smile:
that is beauty
to me.
oooo
The sound of the sea,
the silence,
and roar,
the stars above:
that is beauty
to me.
oooo
A tear on a face,
a whisper
of love,
a look
that says everything:
that is beauty
to me.

Blog Post: 38/52.

Featured Photo by STIL on Unsplash

This Is A Blog Post

Six years ago, I left a city that had been home for two years.

I packed up my memories, and waved goodbye to its shores, pretty sure I would never step foot again on its pavement.

Last week, in honor of a friends wedding, I came back.
The anticipation for the trip was mixed. I was excited to see friends, to dance with joy, and to see the old sights again. I was also terrified to meet the memories head-on, to remember the pain and be forced to readdress it.
I attended high school in the city for two years, and before I go further, I feel like I need to clarify that this is not a hate letter to the city, to the school, or to the people I knew. It is only a reflection of my feelings about a place in which I did not feel like I belonged, which is more of a reflection on me than anything else that was around me.
Last week, I walked through the streets I had known so well for two years, and I was both overwhelmed and underwhelmed at the same time. I was almost overwhelmed with how underwhelmed I was.
The pieces of my history that once represented so much dread and saw so many tears meant nothing to me.
It was almost unfamiliar, in such a distant and strange way.
I could barely identify what was new and what had been there, everything seemed different. My friend, accompanying me, laughed as I kept asking what had changed, so sure that there had been monumental changes. “Nothing changed!” she kept repeating.
But it didn’t feel like it.
Everything had changed.
Time had created a comfortable distance, a warm comfort. I felt unreachable by the pain that seemed to encompass me back then.
It’s been six years.
The last six years of my life have been the most transformative and formative years of my life.
Six years ago, I switched schools. I was given the rare opportunity to start afresh. And amidst the bustling crowds and rushing subways of New York City, I began to find myself.
At 16 years old, I began to discover what really made me tick. What I wanted from life, how I was going to get there. I made some bad decisions and some good decisions, all par for the course. Most of all, I grew.
With each passing day, I became less and less like the girl in Chicago and more and more like myself. But rather than a restructuring, it felt more like a dusting off. A clearing up, so that I could see who I was more clearly.
It’s been a six-year process that will never really end, I’m quite aware of that. But six years in, and I am so grateful to feel secure in who I am, and to be happy with who that person is, and is still becoming.
As I walked those streets, I tried to find the 14-year-old me. I searched the streets, the steps outside my dorm, the grocery store. I tried to listen out for the memories I could bring so clearly to my mind. The more difficult memories…and the good ones. But while I could see it all in my mind, I couldn’t reconcile the fact that it had all taken place in that city that seemed so unfamiliar. I couldn’t find myself there.
And I began to realize that nothing had changed around me, the stores and buildings were all the same.
But I had changed.
I had changed so much, that the me that had spent the start of my high school in that city was so far from who I am today.
That girl felt so deeply misunderstood, so frustrated, so angry.
That was me.
But it isn’t me anymore.
A part of me wants to dispose of the entire experience. If I don’t feel connected any longer, why keep it around? Why not forget it ever happened to me?
But I know that is foolish thinking, even though it was a thought process I ran with for a while.
Tomorrow is the anniversary of my grandfather’s death. Another thing that happened over the last six years was the loss of two grandparents, moments in time that forever have changed me as well.
As one does when something like this nears, my thoughts have turned to my grandfather a lot in the recent weeks.
While memories are wonderful, and I am so lucky to have the ones I do, something about memories wasn’t resonating with me this time. It seemed pointless to focus on who he was, when I am no longer the person I was when I knew him.
I found myself focusing more on what he means to me today, in my daily life. How do I incorporate him into my mindset? Do I consistently strive to bring him happiness? Do I feel his presence, despite his absence? Even more so – would he be proud to know the me I am today? Have I become a better version of myself from when we last spoke?
And I realized something.
Because it all ties together.
My trip last week, the yartzeit (anniversary of death) tomorrow, and my never-ending spinning thoughts.
The memories and my past are incredibly important. For without them, I would have nothing to build upon, nothing to work with.
If I hadn’t been so lost back then, I wouldn’t have found all these treasures on my way back home.
If I hadn’t had experiences with my grandfather and created memories, I would have nothing to sift through today.
But, and this is a big deal for someone who usually says she doesn’t know how to live in the moment –

Today is what counts.

I am grateful to G-d for all the experiences He gave me, even though I was incredibly angry with Him at the time.
Without my couple of years in that city, I would never have become the person I’ve been working towards becoming. It has given me so much, possibly even a career path. So yes, the city didn’t look familiar to me. I didn’t recognize the little details, the background noise to who I was back then. But that’s not really what matters anymore.
What matters is what I have done with those years, how I have developed them to be more than they were, to take the pain and turn it into something so much greater.
And while I will forever hold the sweet memories of my Zeidy close, they are also not the most important thing to our current relationship. More than the memories, it is crucial that I find ways to keep the connection alive, and because I am forever growing, that connection will forever be changing, and it is up to me to ensure that it never gets lost.
These things will always be a part of me. There is no way to consciously dispose of memories, and I no longer have any desire to. But I’m aware now that the past only has to work as a building block, as a foundation – and my job?
It’s to keep building up.

Blog Post: 37/52


Photo by Brittany Gaiser on Unsplash

This Is Not A Blog Post

I’m not ready to put up the blog post I’ve been working on in bits and pieces this week. It’s not a complete thought yet, because I’m still living the thought out.

But I can’t not post this week.
I’m too far in.
I could technically skip it. It’s been a really really busy week. I’m away from home at the moment, traveling, visiting a world that is both old and new to me at the same time.
But I can’t yet share about it because it’s still processing and whirling around in my brain. There’s too much, and it’s unfolding in pieces.
So perhaps next week, when I’m settled back in my routine, it will make more sense. For now, I’ll share this.
Is it a cop out? Who knows. Honestly – who knows.
But in some ways, I’m on vacation this week, and while I never can separate myself from words, I’m going to give my brain a few minutes this week. Just a few minutes to collect itself, to decipher all the emotions coming through it, to unpack and restructure everything I’ve seen and all the conversations I’ve had.
So excuse me while I duck out just for this week.
I’m still writing a blog post, it’s just a really lame one. And I do apologize for that. With this post goes a little bit of my blogging dignity. But as much as I usually force myself to write even when I can’t, I have to respect the process if I ever want my words to work in the future.
So.
Next week, I’ll be back to regular programming. When the dust settles. When my emotions find their places. When my brain can slow down enough for me to hear all the words it’s trying to say.
Blog post: 36/52

WHEN THE ANGELS LOST

The mood was somber in heaven that day. The angels moved around, carrying out their tasks, but without their usual joy. As they each passed through the various passageways, they couldn’t help but longingly stare at the Torah, being prepared for it’s introduction to the humans on earth.
“I don’t know, I’m kind of excited about this” one angel whispered to another, as they moved past G-d’s chambers.
“Excited? Why would you be excited? I can’t stop crying” her friend whispered back.
“You think these humans are going to be able to do it? G-d will realize very quickly that they’re unworthy. Then He’ll just take the Torah back, and we’ll be the most valuable creations again!”
Suddenly thoughtful, the second angel began to smile again.
“That’s true! I never thought about that. I mean, look at how they’ve been acting since they left Egypt. They’re never happy, never satisfied, always crying and asking for more. There’s no way this will work.”
Both satisfied with this new knowledge, they got back to their jobs with renewed vigor.
The preparation was picking up speed in heaven, and the angels watched in awe as the tablets were being prepared for their big debut.
The tablets had been hidden all this time in G-ds innermost chambers, and the angels had never seen anything like them in heaven or on earth.
The time was finally so close. Ever since the Jewish nation had cried “Naaseh Vinishma, we will do and then we will hear,” two days ago, the feeling in heaven had been one of deep sadness. The Torah that they had the pleasure of studying for so long and never had to share was being taken from them. The arguments heard across heaven were long and loud, but G-d was insistent. This was the plan all along, He said, and it was time.
Now, it was finally the third day. The Jewish nation had been preparing themselves in mind, body, and soul.
But as the angels watched, the mistakes were already starting.
“Why are they sleeping?!” the head observation angel was furious. Every screen in the room was filled with images of sleeping humans, on the most exciting day of their lives.
“According to my data, they believed that when asleep, their souls would access a deeper level of spirituality than they could while awake” one angel explained, looking up from his notes.
“Well, they thought wrong. I’m sure the plans are off. G-d is not going to give the most precious thing ever created to a sleeping nation.”
Heaven was abuzz with rumors and discussion. When would G-d announce that the Torah would not be given today?
But as their certainty grew, G-d entered.
“It’s time” was all He said.
“But G-d, they slept!” cried one angel.
“Are they awake now?” G-d asked.
“Well, yes, but -” spluttered the angel.
“Well then, we will carry on with the plans.” G-d moved towards the Torah, standing in the middle of the room.
The angels couldn’t believe it.
As they watched disbelievingly, the show began.
G-d descended into the world, and began to speak.
The angels crammed together in the observation room, some covering their eyes, unable to watch the Torah being given to these worthless creations.
In an instant, the humans were crying out and begging for it to stop.
“See?!” clamor broke out amongst the angels. “They couldn’t even handle one moment of G-ds presence; they can’t even hear His voice without being completely destroyed!”
Some rushed back to greet G-d as He would surely return, unwilling to give the Torah.
But again, they were left dumbfounded. Rather than canceling the plans, G-d spoke only to Moses who relayed the message.
Finally, accepting the bitter truth to themselves, that G-d completely intended to truly give the Torah to the people, the angels tore themselves away. The relaying of the laws would take most of the day, and the angels already knew the laws. None could bear to watch the unworthy humans receive them.
The next day, the angels gathered around the tablets.
“I can’t believe they’ve been hidden for so long, and now they’re just going to be taken from us.”
“I know. This is crazy. Who has been there for G-d every single day since the beginning of time? Who has never made a mistake? Who has never denied G-ds existence? Us! Who could possibly be more worthy than we?” the angels were furious.
Suddenly, the doors to heaven swung open. They all turned to greet the newcomer. It was Moses.
“What are you doing here, Moses?” asked one particularly angry angel. “Came to rub it in our faces that you’ve taken everything we hold dear?”
“I’m sorry, angels,” Moses responded, looking uncomfortable. “I’ve come to collect the tablets and speak with G-d.”
Several angels burst towards the tablets, unable to watch Moses take them.
A hush fell over the crowd as G-d entered.
“What is going on?” G-d asked, looking over every angel.
No angel could find the words to respond as they looked around in shame.
“Moses, welcome. You have much to learn, and we can not waste a moment.”
For the next 40 days, the angels attempted to make Moses as miserable as possible. They argued with him at every opportunity. They tested him, hoping to make him trip up on the most important aspects of the Torah.
As the end of the 40 days neared, a couple of angels came rushing out of the observation room, pulling in whichever angels they could find.
“You have to see this!”
The observation room filled up with angels, and cries of shock and anger came from all parts of the room.
“Is that what I think it is?”
The head angel nodded sadly. “A golden calf. They’re serving a G-d that does not exist.”
“They just received the Torah!”
“This is unbelievable!”
“I knew they were unworthy.”
“G-d will never let this slide.”
The voices built up and up and up, the clamor growing.
“Does Moses know?” one single voice was heard, causing a hush to fall over them.
Did Moses know? He was currently studying the deepest secrets with G-d, while his people down below were serving a different G-d altogether. Only 39 days after they heard the voice of G-d Himself.
How would he be able to bear the pain?
“At least he’ll hear it from G-d” sighed one angel, frightened at the inevitable upcoming scene.
Sure enough, the next day, as Moses was preparing to descend and return to his people, G-d informed him of their enormous mistake.
The angels inched closer, aching to eavesdrop on this conversation.
“Leave me alone!” roared G-d to Moses.
The angels shrank back.
“I will annihilate them all! They are not worthy. Forget them, I will create a new nation for you, Moses.”
They could hear G-d pacing, back and forth, in His anger.
“G-d! Please!” they heard Moses pleading “You took them from Egypt. Why allow the Egyptians to see you destroy them after so many miracles?”
G-ds pacing slowed.
His voice softer now, Moses continued “Don’t you remember your promise to Abraham? Isaac? Jacob? You told them that You’d build up their nation to be as many as the stars in the sky. You did it. You built them up. Don’t destroy them now.”
The angels moved away, heartbroken in all kinds of ways. They shouldn’t be listening.
After a little while, Moses came out, his eyes tear-filled, his face drawn. The angels avoided him, but couldn’t quite believe their eyes when he grasped the tablets in his hands and took them with him as he left.
G-d had given in, after all.
Almost as one, the angels rushed to the observation room to witness what would possibly happen next.
As Moses descended and returned to Mt. Sinai, they watched his expression fill with unquestionable anger as he caught sight of his nation, his people that he had just fought for, dancing around and serving the golden calf.
In one moment, before anyone could grasp what was happening, they watched Moses flung the tablets with all his might. They crashed into the side of the mountain, the tablets that had been waiting for centuries to be given on earth, shattered into millions of pieces.
All through the night, the angels cried in anguish. The Torah, the tablets, they had waited so long for the perfect moment, and this moment was so far from perfect it was laughable.
How had G-d intended this? How had He seen this nation to be fit to receive the most valuable of gifts?
A few very slow and utterly unbearable days later, Moses was back.
The angels couldn’t bear to look at his face, there was so much pain etched along his eyes.
He was ushered in to speak with G-d.
For the next 40 days, no angel heard from or saw G-d or Moses. They felt time, space, and everything hanging in the balance. Would the universe cease to be?  What would become of earth?  What would become of the Jewish nation?
Finally, Moses came out as well, with G-d by his side. Moses held something wrapped in his arms.
The angels gathered around, unable to hold their curiosity back.
Moses uncovered his parcel, and the angels could barely believe what they saw –
a brand new set of tablets, almost as beautiful and magical as the first.
G-d nodded to Moses, Moses nodded to the angels and left, as if he had never been there at all, taking the new set of tablets with him.
Heaven was silent. The angels stared at each other, unsure of where to start.
“You’ve forgiven them?” one angel spoke up, incredulous.
“No. They will be punished” was all G-d saw fit to respond.
“So that’s it. You’re going to give the most precious thing you ever created to sinners.”

“I am. But you’re wrong, angel. The Torah is not the most precious thing I created. They are.

Blog Post: 35/52

Featured Photo via MyJewishLearning.com

To learn more about the holiday of Shavuot click here. 

We Can Change

When a human
with a beating heart
and a crying soul
is falling apart,
We need change.
When a human
with tired eyes
and scarred arms
wants to die,
We need change. 
When their tears are dry
and their heart is hard,
When they’ve locked doors
and pulled up their guard,
We need change.
When their bellies ache,
but the ache is deep,
When they scream for help
but the world still sleeps,
We need change.

When the world awakens
and listens close,
When our eyes pull open
and see the hearts that broke,
We can change.
When we stretch out arms,
and give our ear,
When we ask questions
without feeling fear,
We can change.
When all have beating hearts,
and all can be whole,
When all have rested eyes
and a hopeful soul,
We’ll have changed.
When gates are opened,
and locked doors have a key,
When cries are heard,
and forests catch the tree,
We’ll have changed.
When blind eyes are opened,
and arms are thrown open wide,
When judging is shameful,
and love doesn’t hide…
We’ll have changed.
But until then, my friend,
We’ve got work to do,
so nobody can say
“If I only knew.”

Blog Post: 34/52.


Featured Photo by Matthew Henry on Unsplash

Knowing The Plan

This week is my 33rd blog post. Tomorrow is also the 33rd day of the Omer (the count from Passover to Shavuot) which marks the holiday of Lag Baomer.

The coincidence did not escape me.
I’m a connections kind of person. A deeper meaning kind of gal.
I grew up with the concept of Hashgacha Pratis (literally translated to divine providence,) which means that nothing is coincidental or accidental, everything happens for a reason. Every moment, every leaf, and every wrong turn has its purpose and place in the grand scheme of things.
That concept has always given me so much comfort, and more than that, it gives life an air of optimism and mystery.
Life is full of mystery. Honestly, every moment is a mystery, we never know what the next moment will bring.
I like to be in control. I avoid depending on people as much as possible, I like to get things done on my own, I like being the master of my own destiny.
So you can see how allowing G-d to be in control can be a little difficult for me.
Remembering that ultimately, I have no control over what happens in my life is something I constantly struggle with.
But at the same time, I have this deep, deep understanding that G-d really is always in control.
Hence, the connections.
When the subway takes too long at a stop, or I randomly choose a different route to walk, or something happens which forces me to do something I wasn’t planning on doing – that’s when I know G-d is in control.
I know that there is a reason my life is taking this path. It is not random or accidental.
But a moment later…when the reason behind what happened is not revealed to me, my spirits begin to plummet.
See, I’m happy for G-d to move around the pieces in a way that I don’t understand. But when even afterward I still don’t get to see the full picture, I feel a little cheated. When I think the signs that I am seeing are so clear, but then everything they were pointing to falls apart, and I realize how little I know, and how little what I think actually matters to the plan.
See, when I realized that it was the 33rd day of the omer when I would be writing my 33rd blog post, my brain went scrambling for reasons, connections.
I came up with a few.
The 49 days of the omer are meant to be a time of working on oneself, going through the various good attributes we have, and sharpening them.
For 33 weeks, I have been working hard at writing blog posts, each week focusing on something else in my life and my personality. It has forced me to look at myself honestly, and open up.
On the 33rd day of the omer, we have been looking at our attributes for 33 days already. We have been refining ourselves, trying harder, taking notice of what can be done better.
There was no specific reason I chose to begin writing weekly blog posts 33 weeks ago, I had no idea that it would line up this way. Which means – there’s got to be a connection, right?
It’s a little bit far-fetched, I know.
Pretty much everyone I know would chalk this up to a very random coincidence because honestly, it doesn’t really matter.
But it gives me joy to connect the dots. To see the reasoning behind things. To feel like I am part of a plan, to perhaps see the faint outlines of G-ds pen.
Maybe I’m too uptight. Maybe I need to let go a little bit, to learn how to depend on others, and most of all, to learn how to depend on G-d. Maybe to survive through life, one just has to be laid back, and not try so hard to understand everything that happens around us.
But that doesn’t feel right to me. It doesn’t seem like the way I want to live. I’d rather continue to thank G-d when the little things go right, and notice Him in every part of my day, than to loosen up and forget that He’s there.
It’s a difficult balance to find. Like with everything in life, there are pros and cons to every path we take.
There is one thing I know for sure – everything happens for a reason. Everything is connected, and everything has a purpose. The dots are there. But for whatever reason, G-d has chosen to not show me which dots connect to which. He has chosen to not reveal the why’s behind each choice He makes, which has made for some very anger filled prayers on my part.
It’s nice when we get it, but it’s not important for us to get it. The important part for me is to realize that there is a reason – and that’s all.
I will never stop hoping that G-d reveals His plan a little more, that He’ll let me peek, that one day soon He’ll let me understand why I take those wrong turns.
But until then, I will do my very best to unclench my fists a little bit, to trust that He can handle it, that He has heard my prayers and that despite the fact that things seem very scattered at the moment, He has a way of changing things in a moment.

I will continue to pray that my prayers be answered, and I look forward to knowing that they already have been.

I’ll just be over here taking deep breaths and eating chocolate.

 

Blog Post: 33/52


Featured Photo by Austin Chan on Unsplash

Finding the Flavor

It heals me.

Long before the first taste touches my lips, cooking gives me life.
One of my favorite things to do when I cook is to study the available ingredients and construct a new flavor, a new dish, something a little bit familiar and a little bit surprising.
As the pots boil and the pans sizzle, I feel my muscles relax, the tension release.
Cooking takes me away from my stresses in a similar way that music does. It encompasses me.
Cooking and I have had a tumultuous relationship. While I’ve always been very interested in it, I haven’t always been so good at it. Always chasing flavor, I tend to oversalt, which is a practice I’ve mostly stopped, but occasionally it’ll come back to haunt me.
But that’s my life in general. Always chasing flavor – which occasionally comes back to bite me. Always wanting more out of life, always wanting brighter colors, experiences that are meaningful and full of depth. Sometimes, wanting so much from life makes parts of life harder.
Cooking is one of my favorite things, but cooking for others takes it to a whole new level. Watching people I love enjoy the food, watching their energy levels climb back up is the ultimate reward. Not everyone loves cooking, but I know very few people who don’t love eating, and being able to be part of bringing them that simple happiness is a treasure I hold dear.
I’m no chef. I don’t know much about exotic dishes, my ingredients tend to be simple and cheap.
But my goal with every dish, whether it be breakfast, lunch or dinner is that the flavor is rich. A simple scrambled egg, while comforting to many, is disappointing to me. When a dish, no matter what I try, comes out tasting a little empty, I feel like I didn’t do it justice.
Because every day is an opportunity for things to be better than they were yesterday. Settling for decent, settling for good when you could have incredible or delicious is not in my capabilities.
And I know that this part of me affects others. It makes me a little bit more stressed perhaps. Often, I’m told by others that perhaps I’m shooting a little too high.
But this is me. This is who I am, and I’m obviously not just talking about in the kitchen.
My love for cooking and for flavor-rich foods blends into every area of my life. I love potential. I love finding potential in things and doing my best to bring it to its fruition. Life, people, food, everything can be so complex, so detailed.
There are times in life that I need to just chill out, times I like taking a step back, breathing, not trying so hard.
But no matter what, I go to sleep happiest on the days I don’t need to compromise on the flavor.
Blog Post: 32/52

Featured Photo by Helena Yankovska on Unsplash