Heroes

Raised upon platforms

Exalted in echoes

Treated like gold

And truth be told

It just shows how lacking we are

That we go so far

To treat another human

Like a hero

Did he go

To the depths of the sea

Did he find a cure

For a sickness so unnecessary?

Does he spout rainbows from his mouth

Or create magic when he speaks?

Did he shed light

In a world that was so bleak?

At the end of the day

When the sun fades away

He too will lie in bed

With a pillow under his head

He soul will be stolen

And only returned if he is found worthy

But not all are always privy.

Yet still, there are those

We treat with kid gloves

And see through rose colored glasses

But if you ask me

Those are the people

That need to be wearing the gloves

Digging in the dirt

Proving their true worth

Instead of making the rest of us

Question our own.

If only London Bridge would fall...

Don’t think I don’t notice you
It’s kind of hard not to
You’re just there
The elephant in the room
The following shadow
Spreading its misery and gloom
I find myself caught
Underneath your weight
Of which I cannot escape
Who can I blame?
To whom can I attribute this shame?
Who built this wall
Too strong to fall?
Father
Mother
Sister
Mister
No twister
Could destroy this
And it’s hard not to miss
Always there
Always everywhere.
Perhaps a fault of my own?
It is I, I should have known
Only I could have built it so tall
Too tall to ever fall
But perhaps I might have a chance
And now you ask
That I take it to task
To remove this barrier
I am no warrior
I stopped fighting
I’ve called a cease fire
I cannot go higher
I am just here
With this wall resting near
To keep my company
For that is a love
Of misery.

Getting an Edu(ma)cation

I never realized what power a person can have. How their control can literally change lives.

I was a substitute this Friday and last for preschool boys and I literally had a life changing revelation. (No singing choir though). Parents only want their child to be happy, to succeed, to be healthy and happy. And everyday they give that massive responsibility to their child's teacher to carry out. They have to believe that the teacher will mold and shape their children into that vision. It's frightening. And then, the teacher her/himself must live up to that incredibly difficult job. They have to show love and firmness, fun and strictness. They have to discipline, educate, model, perform and even teach! Being in a classroom with young kids just made me so scared for my future children. Will they learn? Will their teacher treat them like a curious child, or like a rebellious wreck? Will they fulfill their potential every day? Or fall through the cracks?

It's petrifying to think about.

So, I Think We're Related...

              

One question that I hear a lot is “Are you related to…?”

I’ve come to expect it when meeting new people, and I starting shaking my head and saying “no” even before they can finish their question. Jewish geography is great, but it doesn’t really work for me. My relatives who share the same last name as me aren’t religious so no one knows them, and the religious family that everyone is always asking about is not related to me. So, I have been content for most of my life to know that my family is the black sheep and I will never be a crucial connection in Jewish geography.

That is, until two day before I left for seminary something happened. Two days before I boarded a plane for the Holy Land happened to be my sister’s wedding. (And my mother’s birthday). In the midst of all the wedding flurry, my mother got a Facebook message from some lady claiming to be a relative. My mother explained what was going on and that we would get back to her. Mazel tov! My sister got married, I was home for one day of Sheva Brachos, and then bam, I was welcomed into my beautiful homeland.

I don’t really remember what happened that week (except for my first day… that was an adventure) but I somehow found out that I had a cousin (they WERE related to us!) and she was ALSO in seminary! Our first Shabbos was an in-Shabbos, but knowing where said cousin was in seminary, I embarked on the trek through the sweltering Jerusalem streets to find her. And find her I did! We had a reunion… or first meeting (?) in one of her seminary classrooms.

Now, to be honest, I’m not the “huggiest” person. (At least, not so much with strangers) But, how does one greet a long-lost cousin, a perfect stranger, but at the same time, a family member? Ok, we hugged. We gasped and giggled as girls are known to do and promised to keep in touch and spend Shabbos together during the year. Which we did. We went to my second cousins pretty frequently together and got to know each other a little bit better. And when her brother came to Israel, he also spent Shabbos with us.

Having had only one set of relatives who are frum (from the other side, so not that famous last name everyone asks about), it was very strange to suddenly have a new cousin to be obligated to. She didn’t have any family in Israel (my cousins there were the only ones I had) so I felt like I had to make sure she always had a place for Shabbos. Definitely strange.

Mazel tov again! My second sister got engaged during my year in seminary and her wedding was a few weeks after I came home. Our new cousins came, but sadly we didn’t really have time to bond and schmooze (Two weddings in nine months! Whoosh!).

We haven’t really kept in touch these past few months because of college, friends, life, etc., but in a way, had we not been cousins, we never would have been friends. We are two very different people with lots of different interests that don’t overlap. So while it’s great to have a new frum cousin, it also feels like an alternate reality, in which she just doesn’t really fit the picture.

I now have one new connection in my game of Jewish geography, but to be honest, it’s just weird.

So I Have This Friend...

And sometimes she makes me crazy! Ok, not sometimes. Always.
Now, don't get me wrong: she really is a great person. Her heart is in the right place and she does loads of chesed. But there is one flaw about her. It's all about her. If she did something for someone else, as nice and helpful as it was, she will martyr herself out to no end.
"I drove to three events this week! I didn't sleep but I like totally volunteered so much."
"I was the first one there so naturally I helped set up and was the last one there so obviously I cleaned the whole place, took out the trash, waxed the floors, and cleaned the toilets with my own toothbrush."
Ok, so I am exaggerating slightly. But only slightly.
Now, like I said, she is a nice person. But she is very me-centric. She has to be the best, spent the most, traveled the farthest, know more people, been there, done that at least a thousand times if not more.
And to be honest, it's starting to get to me.
So this post was half kvetch/half request for help.
How would you handle a person like this? How would you react to her endless stream of bragging and self martyrdom?
(To better illustrate this person, here is a video of a character she closely resembles in personality... I think you will get what I mean when you watch it)

Through These Eyes

If I asked you to hold my hand

Would you guide me somewhere safe?

I can't help but trust you

Your very presence assures me

How could you be

A monster

A mean old man

Or scary lady?

Will you tuck me in at night

And scare away all the things under my bed

Read me a story

And give me a kiss

Why would I ever suspect

That something is amiss?

I've been told to respect you

To understand that there is someone

Bigger than me

Smarter than me

Who knows more

Has seen more

And would only protect me.

I see the world

Through new eyes

I could never realize

That there are people

Who would want to hurt me

After all

I am only a child.

After hearing about the shooting in Newtown, CT and reading article upon article that tries to make sense of what happened, it's clear to me that what happened will never make sense. To descend upon a school of children, who are the most vulnerable, weak, and innocent in society, is an act that can never be explained, analyzed, rationalized, "psychologized" or understood. Don't bring proofs or reasoning. Just hug your child, sister, brother, or parent a little bit tighter. Give thanks for everything that is good in your life. And pray that those families who lost a loved one, an innocent child, or mother or sister can eventually find some comfort and happiness.

We Like It But...

Story of my life (from clientsfromhell.com)

"I really like how you edited the video by arranging each cut to the beats to the music. Let’s keep all that. Just one small thing - let’s change the music."

Goodbye

“Never say goodbye because goodbye means going away and going away means forgetting…”

-Peter Pan

I saw this quote, and it got me to thinking.... We never really said goodbye. One day we were talking and two months later, we're still not talking. But we never said goodbye. You've gone away. But we never said goodbye. So is that why I can't forget you?

But to start talking to you again would just bring up a whole series of issues that I am not interested in. I should just leave it alone. I should leave you alone.

But seriously... two months, and all I get is radio-silence? I get that you're busy, but honestly... it's insulting.

Ok, so I can't say goodbye to you personally, so I'll make a statement here.

Goodbye.

There, I said it.

I shall now wait for the Magical Forgetful Fairies to tap my head and erase you from my memory.

WhichWatch

I'm waiting
Watching my wrist
As the numbers stay stationary
But something moves
Telling me I am late
Early
On time
Past my prime
Or simply out of line
Perhaps
Flawed by design
Or
Perfection of my own kind.
Could twelve digits surround
As three hands move 'round
Make me realize
That even when I am lost
I can always be found
In the rhythmic pace
Of this tiny face
That sets the world straight
Keeping the same date
Or am I simply a prisoner
Locked up and trapped by
This intricate creation
That people say can "fly"
It's making me wonder
If it holds more power
In making me laugh
Or making me cry.

Job Wanted

When I signed on to be his "assistant", I prepared myself for shuffling papers, coffee runs and tedious tasks. I thought I would be sitting at a desk, watching as the hours pass by, mind numbingly slow, while trying to maintain a semi-decent composure. I wasn't really prepared for what my real job requirements would be.

He came in the first day, all smiles and good cheer, handing me a coffee.

“Mocha latte okay?" He asked, handing me the seasonally decorated cup, a jovial grin on his face. I took the cup, blank faced and utterly confused. Maybe I read the wrong job details? Maybe I was supposed to be telling him what to do?

I scanned my emails and, to my dismay, he was still the boss and I was still the assistant, only more confused than I was when I first walked in.

He swept towards his desk, dropping a coat on the floor, a briefcase near his desk, and a celphone on top of a pile of papers.

            “Rachelli, come in here please.”

            Making every effort to live up to the dutiful assistant I intended to be, I hurried into his office. The disarray I saw it in shocked me, when only moments earlier it had been spotless. I worked tirelessly before he came to make sure everything was in pristine order. Clearly his brain didn’t operate on “clean-mode.” I made a mental note to remember that, so I could avoid wasting precious time organizing his office.

            “I need you to do something for me,” he began, taking his eyes off his computer as he spoke.

            “Ok...” I replied, getting slightly nervous.

            “I doubt you’ll find it listed in your job requirements. It’s going to require some more skill... and creativity. And a bit of risk. Think you can handle that?” He asked, eyeing me cautiously. Eager to please, I nodded my head excitedly.

            Mr. Fried, or Josh, as he wished I called him, was a young entrepreneur, a bright mind with a lot of energy, creativity and drive. His father was the owner of the largest real estate agency in the city, and Josh seized the chance to get in the field. He bought houses, remodeled them, and sold them for nearly triple their original price, effectively becoming incredibly wealthy simply by having a great “in” in the business, and more charisma than any one person should have. His ability to hype people got him far. Contractors vied for his jobs because he was just so much fun to work with. Having daddy’s money to start him up helped him on his feet, and now he was buying at least one house a week, remodeling them in a few weeks, and selling for a nice profit. When I saw the ad he placed, looking for an assistant/secretary, it seemed like a great oppurtunity. Now I was starting to wonder what I got myself into.

            “I need you to scout a house for me. It’s supposed to be a real steal, but if anyone sees me there, it’ll be bad news. Can you do this for me?” He asked, his eyes opened wide, pleading. As his assistant, wasn’t this part of my job? Could I say no?

            “Sure.” He smiled. I swallowed all the saliva in my mouth, feeling it become dry in just a moment.

            What am I getting into?

Home (?)

What is home?
The place where I grew
Where I knew
I’d always be safe
And sound?

The building
Four walls and roof
Undaunted by wind and rain
An edifice
To hold all my pain?

What is home?
The structure that holds
Every physical memory
And every item
That ever belonged to me?

What is home?
The place where I buried my heart
For safekeeping and protection
Somewhere to return to
When I lose my direction?

Will I ever come back here?
Or must I say goodbye
I wonder what would happen
If I came back again
And called this home once more...

Rise

I did not think
I would be found
Ever
Yet, you came
Marching into my destruction
Ravaged by the enemy
Totally contaminated
Rivers of blood
Dirt
Rocks
Chaos
And I was,
Impure
Violated
Devoid of hope,
Abused,
Used,
Broken into
Tiny… fragile… pieces….
You came
In a ray of light
Your own battles fought
And won
Then, to come and rescue me
You cleaned me
Purified my hidden chambers
And then,
You lit a light within
Reignited a once lost flame
And it burned
Beyond the boundaries of reality
I, defying reality
Was able to rise
Once more.

Hands

Hands
Yours and mine
Aligned
Divine
Touching
Feeling
Knowing
Growing
As one
Searching
Discovering
Trying to find
Me in you
And you in me
Roaming
Until we come home
Hands held close
Too close
Too tight
Too perfect
Complete
Hearts beat
Breathing quick
I feel you
Slip deeper
Deeper
Hands
Held
Close

Another

Another
Girl
Guy
Engaged
Mazel
Tuff...
Tough.
Not
You
But
One
Day
By
You.
Her
Him
Let's
Goo
Ga
Drool.
Lchaim
I'd
Rather
Just
Drink

Easy

You know someone has bad news when they start saying, "I don't know how to tell you this but..." Bam. It hit harder than a kick in the stomach. It knocks out your breath. It takes away your smile.

S was one of those kids who could make any situation lighter, happier. I had the privilege of getting to know her this summer, and last summer and I saw a spark of someone strong, powerful, and happy. She wasn't oblivious to her illness. She took it in stride. As much as she will be missed, she is truly in a better place. I miss you S.

(I wrote this regarding something else, but I think it applies here as well.)

It’s easy to lose hope
It’s easy to despair
It’s easy to look at the sky
And think that no one is there

It’s easy to stumble
It’s easy to cry
It’s easy to look at this world
And think it’s all a lie

But taking the easy route
Never got a person far
And you won’t get anywhere
If you lose sight of who you are

It takes effort to grow
It takes strength to climb
It may look easy
But it even takes talent to rhyme

So if you look around
And feel like all is lost
Just remember, it’s worth every effort
To remain strong, at any cost.

When darkness prevails
And you’ve lost your light
It is buried inside of you
And it’s worth it to fight

Even if you feel like love is lost
Even if you feel like you’re at the end of your rope
If you call out in that moment of pain
Then you can always believe there is hope.

Lilui nishmas Henna Sara

This Moment

It's moment like these
Makes me wonder
How do I go on?
Near death
Near nothing left
Right before my eyes
No time
To think
To do
Bur You
Meant for me
To be here
To be near
Death
Nothing left
And I wonder
What's next?

SongDrunkLove

Pour me something strong
Something stronger than the last song
That was supposed to lift me up
I pressed repeat
But only feel defeat
Play this list
Or perhaps
Just pass the bottle
Before I throttle
Whoever is in sight
With all my might
Cuz the “strength of a song”
Is only how long
It will keep me from
Doing things I never thought to do
And if it were up to you
You would just press pause on me
Leave me be
And get your order
Leave baby in the corner
Move to the next melody
Played so steady
As I trip off
So disoriented
Gone to become
Reinvented
Or just rehabilitated
Into something
That someone
Could actually love.