Toto, We Might Be In Kansas

Holy Tornado, Batman!

We've had ourselves a bona fide tornado here in Brooklyn, and my street is covered in uprooted trees and cars that have been abandoned in the middle of the street. Utterly nuts! Here, have a look:

http://www.nytimes.com/slideshow/2010/09/16/nyregion/20100917_READER_STORM.html?hp

I happened to be in Manhattan at the time, at Barnes and Noble watching the wonderful Patti Lupone dish about her illustrious career and sing four (four!) numbers in support of her new book. When asked why she never peforms "I Dreamed A Dream" Patty said it's "because it's such a sad song, but hey, if you want me to sing it, I'll sing it!" An eager fan produced the libretto, enabling her pianist to accompany her. It was so off the cuff, so genuine that the crowd simply roared with delighted appreciation.

Forget the weather service, there was a tornado of the musical theater kind taking place at Lincoln Center!

Picturing Power and Potential

My friend Amanda gave me the biggest compliment today. She said that this made her think of me:

http://www.imow.org/economica/projects/story?key=4160

I can only hope that when I'm that age, I am that super sassy! Go Jeju Grannies!

Happy New Year

God and I have a little agreement.

I consecrate and keep Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year and in return s/he blesses me with a good year--one that is filled with both triumphs to revel in and failures to learn from. Joys, and friends, travels and time to reflect upon it all. Cupcakes too.

I learned the hard way, that this was our agreement. The one year I decided to shack up with my German boyfriend (the one who, in very veiled terms, tried to tell me that his grandmother had been a Nazi by casually revealing that she had lived for many years in Argentina following the war, and "wasn't very nice") rather than going to synagogue on Rosh Hashanah, I experienced one of the worst years of my life. So now, I look forward to this holiday every year, and I must say, that it has turned into my favorite Jewish holiday.

Rosh Hashanah marks the start of the new year, and it is one where newness and sweetness are supposed to be everywhere your senses take you. Wear new clothes, eat apples dipped in honey to signify a sweet year, listen to the sound of the shofar to herald the start of something entirely new. There are kisses and well wishing for everyone you meet (even if it's just once a year) at the service.

I felt so centered this year during all the prayers and I truly understood that something new was beginning. I had all the sensory experiences that absolutely put me in the right state of mind. I loved up on my nieces and nephew. I ate my sister in law's wonderful cooking. I had my mom's inimitable brisket. I sang bright and clear during the service. My mother and I received an aliyah (an honor) to open the ark before the blowing of the shofar. Normally I get shy to go up to the bimah, but this year, I marched right up there, opened the ark and I was happy to do it.

It made me feel that I am utterly in the right time and place, something I haven't felt lately with all the changes in my job, and the daily negotiations with my shifty teeth. Something has finally rooted--quite literally--and all the worrying I've been doing for the past few months seems to be unimportant and utterly unnecessary when compared with this newly firm--and affirmed sensation. The gift of stillness over the course of this holiday was all I needed to simply find my balance and my bearings.

Goodness, can the teeth be far behind?

The Manifesto of Encouragement

My friend Linda turned me on to this blog. Loved this post. Made me smile and feel all ooey gooey happy inside:

http://whitehottruth.com/white-hot/the-manifesto-of-encouragement/

Hope it makes you feel all ooey gooey happy too. :)

Losing My Senses

I've been a little out of control.

I think I have been eating everything in sight. My friend Kristin says that this isn't really a problem since I only seem to eat every 3 days--but if that were really true, then how do I explain these extra 10 pounds that I carry like a hula girl's skirt? Huh?

I am back to wanting sensual experience in the ways I used to have them, but if I can't bite and ingest what I want, I'm over-compensating in other ways. I'm wearing silks and vibrant hot pinks, I'm showing lots of skin. I've started eating meat again. (Very small portions--and in meatball textured forms--but still.) I consider it my right to eat one pizza, under God, indivisible, with liberty and justice for braces wearers. I want richness and gooeyness and drippy, saucy, tongue tingling delights.

People Magazine recently interviewed Bonnie Blodgett about her book, Remembering Smell. It chronicles the nine month time period where she lost her sense of smell. She said that the loss of her olfactory sense made her "lose weight because you don't want to eat, then gain it because you want the satisfaction that food gives you. But you never feel satisfied."

As Anne of Green Gables would say, I think I have a bosom friend in Miss Blodgett.

I read a great article called Finding Patience by Michele McDonald in Tricycle Magazine and I was particularly struck by this:

Any time we want life to be different than it is we are caught in impatience. We lose our sense of humor; and self-pity, despair, and blame seep into the heart...The practice of forgiveness happens when we are able to realize the underlying cause of our anger and impatience, and this allows us to distinguish between someone's unskillful behavior and essential goodness. Serenity and calm develop as we learn to accept imperfection in others and ourselves.

When we discuss humor, we always say, "the sense of humor" as though it were indeed a sixth (or seventh?) sense. Similar to smell or taste, it also can be lost--and then regained. I also like the phrase "the practice of forgiveness," meaning that forgiveness is not a one shot deal, but that you have to do it every day, like calisthenics or face washing or commuting to work. The body has to be reminded of its purpose, usefulness, and pride, and so does the psyche, I suppose.

Hmmm. Maybe I'll start the practice of steamed veggies as a peace offering for my body--and see if it will forgive me for the Bahn Mi sandwich, the split pea soup, the mac and cheese, the macaroons de paris and the tres leches cupcake I traveled over 100 miles to eat this afternoon...

(Forgive me, but baby, it was oh so good!)

Be, Do, Have

I went on a blind date recently, and had the opportunity to talk with my suitor on the phone before we met. He was bravely guarded about his past divorces, and I was bravely guarded about the braces. I told him, in the spirit of full disclosure what to expect when I smiled. He said, "Of all that could have followed the phrase 'in the spirit of full disclosure,' braces are pretty minor." It was of course, the right answer, and one that shouldn't have surprised me, but kinda did. I'm not entirely certain what I thought he was going to respond, but that was our survey's #1 answer.

Now, the date wasn't all that, but it wasn't because he was twice divorced, or because I had braces. That realization provided a very slight, very lovely paradigm shift for me. We all hold these secret reasons why we can't do, or have, or be the things that we want to do, or have or be. The great irony is, no one knows these little secrets except us, so they're entirely unreal--just these extravagant stories we create to hold ourselves back and hold ourselves up. Usually Jesse James-like, at gunpoint.

There is this great New Yorker cartoon that my mom showed me when I was a teenager--it was the image of a man tightly grasping prison bars in front of his face, with a very sad, defeated look. But there was no jail surrounding him, just the bars in front of his face, which he held so tightly. Illustrates what I'm talking about here.

Now that I've got the bars firmly on my teeth, I think I'll let go of the proverbial or metaphorical ones, and just do, and have and be absolutely everything--not only in spite of the braces, but maybe even because of them.

Cue sweeping epic movie soundtrack!

Full Circle

As you can see by the counter next to this post, I have 360 days to go with the braces. I am thinking of everything lately in terms of degrees, small nuances that bring me from one thought to the next, moving my body from one place to the next. If I have 360 degrees to move from this place to the next, then I really am, in a certain way of thinking, full circle. The past year seems a full entity on its own, and now, something new has begun.

Don't know what that is yet, exactly, but that's ok. My new mantra a la Leonard Bernstein and Stephen Sondheim is "Something's Coming":