Rainbow Zebra

Does the paint program even come with computers anymore? Maybe one day I'll get more comfortable with scanning and will put up ones like this that I've done with pastels.

Gut Vuch And G-d Bless

There was a time when I prided myself on not having a TV. I still do, but it feels less justified. Not having a TV used to mean more time with oneself. Today a computer has moved alongside TV. (There's an email I received years ago that I've looked for online and been unable to find about a house guest who stays briefly at first. Eventually he moves in and becomes a negative influence on the home. At the end its revealed that the guest is TV. Anyone know where I can find this?)

A friend of mine (half of a couple of friends) recently asked me (in a nice chat the three of us had together) why she gets so anxious from minor situations (like a broken escalator) regarding which the anxiety will not help (which is generally the rule). She came up with a couple of theories on her own, wanting me as a sounding board more than to provide of The Answer. One compelling explanation she offered was that anxiety is a distraction. As long as one is busy being upset about the Macy's escalator one doesn't have to look inside or even outside closer to home.

Walking home from Shul tonight I thought about not going online. I recalled a time, not log ago, when going online wasn't an option. Part of me said that to myself, "Self, that was a healthier time." But another part of me said, "You'd have used the time writing in your diary. Now you write on you blog, which one could argue is better" (and of course, one could argue is worse).

David Wolpe writes this week in his "Musings" column,"After listening to his advisers offer him conflicting economic advice Harry Truman burst out in frustration: 'Can someone get me a one handed economist!" Wolpe says that the Greeks gave the world the idea of looking at things on one hand and then the other. Perhaps, like me, you thought that was Tevye's contribution. In any case there are two sides to every question, including the issue at hand of typing online.

I have more to say. I think what I've said so far is the blogging equivalent of a conversation stopper. So I'll so sign off for now.

Good night and G-d bless

He wrote to the world wide web

Wondering who read

It's Time To Say Good Shabbos

"If it's mentionable, it's manageable."

~

- Fred Rogers

I just walked through the door. I have calls to make, food to prepare, a shower to take, and thoughts to express. There's a personality test for you: put those four things in order of importance (it's an essay question so you can/should hypothesize as to the variables that would cause you to rank these items one way or the other).

u

I prefer not to say that my style of sharing here has gotten better or worse. I feel that I've become - generally speaking - more guarded. I now feel like doing a free flow post and then pushing the orange publish button (which a reader once told me doesn't resonate for her as a non blogger). Who's going to stop me?

p

I just returned from Weight Watchers. It's been months, and the woman at the computer told me that I had never been there. The way she was spelling my name (even though they my card with the correct spelling was in their hand) I had never been there. The me spelled correctly has been there many times.

k

The people that sign you in couldn't be less helpful. I experienced inui hadin. Waiting, waiting, waiting, to see the numbers. How can they not get that you want to know what you weigh as soon as possible.

p

I'm up 21 pounds from the last time according to Mr. Computer. It was about 6 months ago but the meeting leader working the desk said she couldn't tell me when I was last there (I was early for weigh in, waited patiently) even though the online info (which this leader told me they at the office know nothing about) says that on Fridays you can weigh in at this branch from 9 AM to 7 PM and that people are available for you to consult with and to help you. I'm down 11 from my joining about 2 years ago, according to the official (minimal) computer printout.

k 9

As I've said here before, I think that there are great life lessons in the Weight Watchers experience. It is not far from mussar, if it is not mussar itself. After I got back on the wagon another time, I wrote this. I like the comments on this one, and pray that they were/are true.

g

And Now...

m

Time to greet the Queen

Time to see my Sabbath Bride

Time for real belief

Time to sanctify my time

Time for forgiveness and peace

Thank You Edie

Be a poet if that's what you claim to be

Be a poet outside of your sad poetry

Be a poet about it

Yeah, work up a sweat

Do everything you have not done yet

Be a poet outside of your sad poetry

~

-Edie Carey

Now

Present Mood

In The Shambles Of His Room Cherubs Sang

The last hour has featured a flurry of little big interactions. There was a lengthy phone exchange with a down and out friend (who never has and probably never will look here and that's the real kind of fine) - but that's not part of this post (oops).

I went outside, sat on a bench near the Beis Medrash. I made contact after a few days of phone tag to say, "Maybe." I left a yes message for Shabbos hosts that wanted to hear either way by today.

I sat on the metal bench half lotus and breathed and breathed. A stranger without a kipah walked by, smiled and then asked in shock, "Where are your legs?" "They're right here," I said in zen-like calm." "Oh, yes they are," he said. He walked on his way turned back, still shook up, apologizing. "It's O.K. I said. I so like it, when really, it is O.K. Then I took a thankful walk across Amsterdam.

In the Beis Medrash I picked my favorite siddur off the shelf, the big blue Kol Yaakov. I sat and davened while aimlessly shuffling pages back and forth for the words that I don't so much read as recite from memory. I saw a hand and then a confident smile and before I knew it, it was over. The fellow on my left grabbed my siddur and placed his red, all Hebrew Artscroll in its place. I looked at him with shock, not permitted to speak. I missed my favorite siddur, felt misunderstood, prayed on. Soon after I wrote a haiku dedicated to all of us who misunderstand.

What you see is not

what you get. It is also

what you do not get.

l

I was greeted at home by an email from a English department colleague saying that he/she hopes we're enjoying margaritas by the pool. Enclosed were some teaching ideas to accompany the margaritas and the pool. I replied in tanka.

l

Oh what an image
"Margaritas by the pool"
Wonder what that's like
Is it like words in silence?
Is it like blogging alone?

,

My phone rang and we confirmed plans for tomorrow night. My mindspring account alerted me to a comment by a fan of Quinn, and to an email asking for my address. The address request was so that a publisher can send me a copy of a soon to be released anthology in which my work appears (yay!). That note asked if I'll be going to the open house book release. It's in Israel. The wives of male author's are invited for tea. The men are welcome to drop off their wives, pick up their book and be on their way. I won't be making it.

;

I logged in to my online poetry class and found two lovely and helpful comments on the poem I submitted. I am feeling a bit stuck in only liking a certain short style of poem. I don't get longer poems.

;

This week we're looking at Adrian Blevins. Oh Zelda wherefore art thou?

;

WITH MY GRANDFATHER

by Zelda

;
Like our father Abraham
who counted stars at night,
who called out to his Creator
from the furnace,
who bound his son
on the altar –
so was my grandfather.
The same perfect faith
in the midst of the flames,
the same dewy gaze
and soft-curling beard.
Outside, it snowed;
outside, they roared:
“There is no justice,
no judge.”
And in the shambles of his room,
cherubs sang
of the Heavenly Jerusalem.

Our Lower Self

Sanhdrin - 91b recounts a dialogue between Antoninus and Rebbe. Antoninus asked when the yetzer hara enters a person. He offered two possible answers: at the moment of the embryo's formation or at birth. Rebbe replied that the yetzer hara is with a person "from formation." Antoninus countered that if the yetzer hara appears at conception then the fetus would kick its way out of the womb. He. therefore, says that it must be that the yetzer hara does not enter until birth. Rabbi Yehuda is convinced by this argument and changes his answer.

Rav Avraham Grodzinski (Toras Avraham 29) questions the logic of this Gemorah. Given that the main thing the yetzer hara wants is pleasure/comfort, why would it break out of the womb where it's all about pleasure and comfort? He explains that it is a mistake to think what the yetzter hara wants is pleasure. The yetzer hara's main drive is to be free and unfettered, to oppose any control and to defy. One of the ways the yetzter hara is unrestricted is by always seeking pleasure, but that is only one example. Even in the absence of pleasure the yetzter hara's number one priority is to be his own master. We see from this Gemora that the yetzter hara would rather die then be confined, being more bothered by being constrained than excited by being in an idyllic setting like the womb.

People are so often self destructive because there is a natural human drive to fight feeling controlled even when this rebellion is not in your best interest. This explains O.D.D.(oppositional defiant disorder) is the most frequent diagnosis of adolescents. This also explains why in today’s climate with such few social restraints the yetzer hara is having a field day.

(based on Rabbi Abraham J Twersky, Prayerfully Yours, On Shma).

Yehi Zichro Baruch

"Shlomo was a musical and spiritual genius, in the realm of King David. Only a barbarian would think that Michael Jackson’s contributions surpassed Reb Shlomo’s by any measure, whatsoever. That Shlomo’s funeral was poorly attended (relative to Jackson’s) and that the Jewish media in 1994 was incapable of recognizing his passing as the loss of a giant, is something this generation will have to explain to history. If any Jewish adult, or anyone’s child, knows more or feels more about Michael Jackson than they do — even all these years later — about Shlomo Carlebach, that is something you ought to wonder about. I miss him still." - Jonathan Mark

The QC Report (Click For Link)

Sometimes I wonder. Sometimes I don't have to wonder. Who reads this blog? A year and a half ago I wrote a dense piece here, in which I listed with gratitude some of my known readers (in the post and in the rich potpourri of comments). I said, "Quinn Cummings recently wrote that if you've ever commented on her blog then she's probably looked at yours." If she hasn't looked before she's looking now.

Quinn just came out with a book ( on June 20, 2007 I announced Quinn's book deal, writing: "I am usually dubious when I hear stories about how people became actors or rock stars by getting called out of the blue. The problem is that you can’t count on these things. But they do, occasionally, happen. Well, Quinn Cummings got a call based on her blog. A major publisher wants her to write a book. She couldn’t believe it herself. She deserves it. Go see for yourself and congratulate her here.") and is two weeks into her blog tour. G-d willing, she will be appearing here in the near future.

I am a fan of Quinn's writing. I have quoted her on several occasions. In September '07 I wrote, "In Quinn Cummings' latest post she writes:'Adolescence at its worst is suspecting that everyone knows something you don’t, you look stupid and everyone is laughing at you. Usually, looking back, you realize no one knew anything, you looked fine, and everyone was so worried about their own stuff they didn’t give you a second glance.' I recommend the whole post - which made me laugh out loud."

In January I posted an excerpt (you really have to read the whole thing) from a remarkable post. "Below is an excerpt from a great piece by Quinn Cummings:'Too often, the loudest events which come up in our lives become the most important, even if we don’t really like them or don’t want to make them a priority. The narrative, the picture, becomes one of great movement and activity but we lose the thing at the center of the frame which matters. We find ourselves wondering why an entire week has gone by and everyone we care for has been fed and cared for but we haven’t had a single transcendent moment. Maybe we tell ourselves that feeling a sense of connection to our ultimate goals is too much to ask for on the week the kids go back to school, or we start a new job, or the holidays are upon us. But then when can we ask for it? I need to frame my picture better. I need to move less and think more. I need to start viewing each day as productive not only for how many things I knocked off the 'To-do' list but for the moments when I was truly present and grateful. This I believe.'

Wow.

On July 21, last summer, I wrote On Writing and Laziness (I like that free flowing piece and the four comments from people who aren't me). That post opens with a link to a classic Quinn Cummings post about the difficulty of writing. Part of her book deal was that the essays had to be new. Her blog is filled with at least one book worth of essays, but when opportunity knocks it's best to answer the door.

I am impressed with Quinn's ability to write so much and so well. I look forward to our interview. Stay tuned.

My Life Is A Rainbow Roll

My father - HSLABW - just ordered the shoe organizer mentioned in the excerpt below from a post of 3 months ago. Honestly, this item disappointed me. Still it seems to be all the rage. Don't be the last one on your block to get it.

The girl working the register commented about colors. I looked at what she was placing in the bag and realized she was talking about the Rainbow Roll. I told her the name and she liked that. Then she paused to gaze upon my Space Saving Shoe Organizer that has As Seen On TV stickers on it (I hadn't seen it). The check out girl looked at Shoes Under (Slides Under Bed! Holds 12 Pairs! Great For Closets Too!) as though it were a rare jewel."I'd seen it on TV, but I didn't know it was available in stores already!"It was a pleasant exchange.

I took the twenty minute bus ride home, which due to traffic took an hour and a half. I'm tired. But I'll always have Shop Rite. And soon, Shabbos.

Shadow Poetry (Click For Link)

By James & Marie Summers
m
Hidden within the shadows of night
Poets by the dozens begin to write
Pens, the paintbrush of imagination
Blank paper, a canvas of creation
Verses in rhythm, a rhyming scheme
A poet's life, a written dream
Seeking the light, souls revealed
Sharing of poetry, once concealed
mm
Copyright © 2000

rabbifleischmann.blogspot.com: July 13 Times 4

One year ago today I posted the final instalment of a poem by Rabbi David Ebner. He is a great poet and this is one that struck me. It's called Poemparts.com. Here's an excerpt:

Rabbe Nachman said:

Somewhere,a man is asking a question

but has no answer.

Somewhere,a man is giving an answer

but has no question.

When will they meet?

[

Two years ago on July 13th, I posted about the parsha, which is not this year's parsha till next week - so I'll link to July 12, 2007 - an eclectic post, which touches on Billy Joel's German Jewish heritage and books by Judith Guest.

k

On this date in July, 2006, I did not post. On July 14, 2006 I wrote about how we all have a G-d shaped hole inside us that nothing else can fill because it is a G-d shaped hole.

j

Four years ago today I posted this original poem (when I don't attribute credit elsewhere it means I wrote it):

t

From Blue to Purple

r
Sometimes you sigh

Have a good cry

[

Sometimes it's great

Fulfilling fate

i

Soar through what's hard

Straight to the stars

o

That post received a nice comment from a student from 1996, which has a place in my nachas box.

p

As for 2008, I may post more in time - that's it for now.

Time Takes Time

Insecurity

Prompts us to show what we know

When it's not our turn

When someone else has the stage

It makes us look quite foolish

p

This tanka style poem is not about this post or about my blog in general. I embrace comments here. And I am (some say too) happy to take questions and comments when I teach.

l

I have caught myself and others speaking out of turn, looking to hear our own voices, to remind the world we exist. Sometimes it's good to simply listen until our turn to speak comes along. "Ein lechah adam she'ein lo sha'ah."

i

Are we all "thank G-d?"

Are we exactly the same

Under the headline?

o

That was inspired by this funny feeling I get when I exchange "how are you"s with someone and we each say, "Thank G-d."

;

King David said it

That, "For You silence is praise"

But we prefer words

We flee from intense silence

We fear that intimacy

;

I thought of this one night during davening, wondering how pleased Hashem is with our hacksaw like mumbling of prayer.

;

I hope that everyone is having a good day. I keep getting asked how my summer is going. I still feel connected to work, not fully separated. Time takes time.

Regarding Nechamah

We try to emulate those we admire, while at the same time recreating them in our own image. This is apparent in the many Rav Soloveichiks that co-exist in the memories of his students. I see this in the personal Nechamas that people her students hold on to. My Nechama was someone who learned from life and spoke about life in an anecdotal, simply profound manner.

I hope to share more of her stories soon.

I am uncomfortable with the way that my recent comments for Lookjed came out. What I had seen as an early draft ended up being printed as they were because the time had come. I am going to post a cleaned up version as the first comment here.

Remembering Nechamah

I was asked by Rabbi Shalom Berger to comment on an article by Yael Unterman that he posted on Lookjed. I read and then thought and then started writing. I entered magnum opus mode. I kept spinning ideas and sent in some to Shalom, which he posted. It's only part done, my mind - kind of ends in the middle. Once I started I kind of want to do the other part - about Nechamah as a story teller and about things I do in my classrooms and out that relate to the article.

For now I'll write some thoughts here at home base.

Years ago (when life seemed to move slower) I spent five years in Israel. I was blessed to be in Nechama Leibowitz’s class during that time, and more than the scholarship what I hope I’ll never forget is Nechamah's humanity. Nechamah used anecdotes liberally and was a master story teller.

On a hot summer day two men wait an inordinate time wait at a bus stop. One turns to the next and says, “Sure is hot, isn't’t it?” If the second guy responds, “yes” then he hasn’t done right. The translation of the first man’s words is – let’s talk. To misunderstand that is a social crime. Her point was that when learning Torah we must recognize that direct translation betrays true meaning which hides in the subtext. The way she made the point was so human that the story became a thing itself.

I don't recall the context in which she told this next one. Nechamah was standing at an outside Chupah and next to her were two little girls. She overheard as one explained to the other what a wedding was all about: "Exactly nine months from tonight they will have a baby!" she explained, as if it was that simple.

Yaakov asked to be saved from being killed, also to be saved from killing. Nechamah told of a student that visited her after his army service. He was different, she could tell. After a while he told her what changed. He'd killed a man and would never be the same. He was in a tank and an enemy tank approached. He thought, how can I kill? And then - if I don't kill, I'll be killed. All this, in a split second. And he killed a man.

Nechamah told a story, which she tied in with VaYeirah, of a man who loved symphonies. She described a unique opportunity the man had to hear a live performance of a symphony orchestra in his apartment: The concert begins and the doorbell rings. Realizing it may be someone in need the man goes to the door, abandoning his beloved music. It's his neighbor. He wants to borrow a cup of sugar. The man happily fetches the sugar and wishes his acquaintance well. He sits back down with his symphony and the bell rings once more. His neighbor wants to know, if it's not too much trouble, if he could spare two eggs. No problem. He gets the eggs. He gives the guy the eggs. He sits back down and the needy fellow is at the door again. This keeps happening. With a smile, our hero provides the man with what he wants each time. He doesn't get to hear the symphony because he put helping another human being over his greatest personal pleasure of the symphony.

Nechamah used this anecdote to explain the extraordinary greatness of Avraham. His symphony was G-d, and it was playing in his home. And he let go of his pleasure, G-d's visit, to take in hungry, tired travelers. The Medrash comments "Gadol Hachnasat Orchim MaiKabalat Penai HaShechina" - "Taking in guests is greater than receiving the Divine Presence." I like the way Nechama said it with a story.

I Believe Him

National fast days are more about us than about me. And yet. You have to be one before you can be two - let alone millions. I spent part of my day taking in a talk by Rabbi Abraham Twerski on his own struggle with self esteem. Here's my synopsis of his presentation:

Rabbi Abraham Twerski puts it simply; Freud believed that the major instinct in man is that of pleasure seeking and survival. During my social work training I once heard a chilling account by a suicide prevention worker of what he described as a common phenomenon: (WARNING- GRAPHIC IMAGE) finding that someone who took their own life had their hand in the noose, indicating that at the last moment the person's desire to live piped up.

Later in life, according to Rabbi Twerski, Freud addressed the opposite instinct which lives inside all of us - a self destructive inclination. His theory is that elements of low self esteem are ubiquitous because they are part of the self destructive tendency(running counter to the desire to survive which is also inside us all) that rests in every person. Rabbi Twerski feels strongly that the natural human inclination toward self destruction is at the root of delusional feelings of inadequacy and inferiority. He is of the opinion that these tendencies are - to varying and extents (I think of it like this; we all breathe, but we don't all hyperventilate) - lurking in us all.

Rabbi Twerski tells the story of how early in his career he went to a spa. He sat in the hot tub for ten minutes, but had an excruciating time enduring the mandated 25 minutes. Later, he spoke to a colleague who told him that there's a difference between diversion and relaxation. True relaxation, his psychiatrist friend told him, is being able to be comfortably alone with yourself. When you dislike someone you don't enjoy being alone in a room with them, and this is particularly true regarding ourselves. Diversions, ways to plug in to something outside of ourselves, become increasingly popular, as people seem to be less and less comfortable with themselves.

He makes no secret about his fondness for Alcoholics Anonymous (I once heard him surprise a filled Shul during an Ellul talk when he told the crowd to "fake it till you make it.") He believes that he built up his self esteem (he has gone back to that spa and can now sit in the tub for 25 minutes sans antsiness) through his participation in the 12 steps program. One of the steps requires that we make "a searching and fearless moral inventory of ourselves." When Rabbi Twerski presented his list to his sponsor he was told that what he'd composed was not an inventory but a chimney sweep. He had only written negative things about himself, not missing any mistake he'd ever made! After being in the program for about two years he came to think better about himself and realized that low self esteem had existed within him without his knowing it.

He recalls that in grade school he'd brag about himself, even making things up. As he grew older he was extremely reactive to any kind of criticism. He simply couldn't tolerate even constructive criticism - and certainly not embrace it -because it re-enforced his perception of himself as inadequate. He says that he felt hatred toward anyone who criticized him because he didn't want people exposing him for what he thought he really was. He was convinced that there was nothing about him that people should like and that if people truly got to know him they would reject him. He (without realizing it) found his fear of rejection so painful that he went out of his way to ingratiate himself to people. He became a people pleaser because he feared that if he didn't do what people wanted of him then they would like him less. This was costly to himself and to his family because he put an inordinate of time and energy into protecting his fragile ego. He also became devastated by any brush up against a natural and necessary part of life called failure.

He once gave a continuing education course to 110 therapists. Six weeks later he received the reports for his perusal. They were all glowing...except for ONE. He felt depressed and crushed for 3 weeks because of this one negative comment from one person. Eventually he realized that 109 to 1 is a great ratio and that there was no way to know if there was any merit to what that one person said (maybe he was just having a bad day or was a sour person in general).

His outer reality was that he was successful and good and even he saw that on a rational level. It would have been hard to guess how he felt about himself. The outer accomplishments did not mitigate the inner delusions which seriously affected his behavior. He was unaware of his inner feelings regarding himself and the things he did to try to compensate for his feelings. No-one saw it and if they did , they didn't tell him.

Today he is more comfortable with himself. He says he has manuscripts that get rejected, sometimes by 15 publishers, and it doesn't bother him the way it used to. He feels secure about himself and his work. He is no longer the people pleaser he was; he is no longer incapable of saying no. He now welcomes constructive criticism as necessary for him to continue to grow. Having gained self esteem life has become more comfortable.

It was not an easy process for him to change feelings that had built up over 38 years. He started to view life with an awareness of this perception and things improved. He realized that things had improved when he first went back to the hot springs and was able to sit for twenty five minutes and enjoy it (and not run after ten minutes to ask the facilitator if he could leave). Based on his own experience he suggests a test for people who wonder where they are at in terms of self esteem. His suggestion is to pull down the shades and unplug the music, turn off the cell phones, etc, and sit and breathe quietly in a nice chair - and see how long you last.

He says that anyone who wishes to work on their self perception must realize that it is not easy work, and the nature of the work is that it never ends, but it's worth it.

I am writing these words with a few minutes left to Shiva Asar Be'Tamuz. May we be blessed to strengthen our selves, and become stronger as a people and as a world. And may we hasten redemption.

That Roar On The Other Side Of Silence

Readers are invited to consider this quote and write about what thoughts it conjures for you:

"If we had a keen vision and feeling of all ordinary human life, it would be like hearing the grass grow and the squirrel's heart beat, and we should die of that roar which lies on the other side of silence."

From Middlemarch by George Eliot

Thanks to class-mate Courtney for pointing out this line.

Who Is Man?

By Robert McNamara

Who is man?
Is he a rational animal?
If he is, then the goals
can ultimately be achieved.

If he is not, then
there is little point
in making the effort.

All the evidence of history
suggests that man is
indeed a rational animal
but with a near infinite capacity
for folly.

His history seems largely
a halting, but persistent effort
to raise his reason
above his animality.

He draws blueprints for utopia,
but never quite gets it built.
In the end he plugs away obstinately
with the only building material really ever at hand:

His own
part-comic,
part-tragic,
part-cussed, but
part-glorious nature.

On Silence

"If a word be worth one shekel, silence is worth two."

- Ben Azai (as cited in Tryon Edwards'

A Dictionary of Thoughts, written in 1908.

"Is silence a virtue in Judaism? The Torah says it is and if we want to serve G-d with joy and depth of spirit, we would be well informed to follow its advice." That is the closing line in an article entitled The Virtue of Silence In Judaism, by Mendel Weinberger. The opening of the piece is, "Is silence a virtue in Judaism? At first glance at the Jewish world, it would seem the answer is no... Everywhere you go at all times, Jews are schmoozing, expressing their opinions on everything... So where is there a place for silence?" He offers a compelling argument rooted in primary Torah sources that there is a crucial role that silence plays in true Avodat Hashem.

Weinberger closes with this, "What is the practical way to practice silence? Before beginning to pray, try sitting quietly with your eyes closed for twenty minutes. Slow down your breathing and watch your thoughts as they stream through your mind. When your thoughts start to quiet down, mentally repeat a verse from the Torah that is meaningful to you. This is the advice of Rabbi Kalonymus Kalman Shapira, the Piaseczner Rebbe."

(I've been thinking about Into Great Silence, and the comment I received about "opting out" and my response.)

On Friends and On Einstein

When my friend asked me for thoughts for a talk he was giving on friendship, the following statement came to mind. Rav Yehoshua ben Prachia said 3 things: Establish a Rabbi for yourself, acquire a friend, and judge everyone favorably.

While the first two statement fit comfortably hand in hand, how is the third statement related? Rav Chaim MiVelozen explained that the consequences are great if we do not learn to look at life in a positive light. Rav Yehoshua ben Prachia is warning us that if we don't learn to see the good in people, we could end up (G-d forbid) without a friend and without an advisor, because no one is perfect. We must look for the good in friends and teachers and welcome people into our lives rather than shutting out those who are imperfect. We expect no less from the world.

Rabbi Samson Rafael Hirsch has a different take on the connection between these three statements. He says that after choosing your inner group you have to remember that there's a whole world out there.

--------------------------------------------

I just learned this about Einstein:

His cocky contempt for authority led him to question received wisdom in ways that well-trained acolytes in the academy never contemplated. And as for his slow verbal development, he thought that it allowed him to observe with wonder the everyday phenomena that others took for granted. Instead of puzzling over mysterious things, he puzzled over the commonplace. "When I ask myself how it happened that I in particular discovered the relativity theory, it seemed to lie in the following circumstance," Einstein once explained. "The ordinary adult never bothers his head about the problems of space and time. These are things he has thought of as a child. But I developed so slowly that I began to wonder about space and time only when I was already grown up. Consequently, I probed more deeply into the problem than an ordinary child would have." It's in Time magazine, which goes on to reveal some interesting information regarding Einstein's religious observance.

The Heart Convulsive Learns

There's a Put A Poem In Your Pocket Day. And there's a book by that name too (that link will lead you to the book at BetterWorldBooks.com). I can imagine librarians arguing about whether or not to stock this book. When you open the cover you find a pad filled with 200 poems meant to be peeled out of the book. I almost bought the book last night but then decided to carry it home in my head and heart instead of in my shopping bag.

The part I enjoyed reading the most in the bookstore was the introduction by Poet Laureate Kay Ryan. She writes how we walk around carrying money. And we know that a certain amount of money can get us a certain amount of stuff. We buy things to fill up holes inside ourselves, but soon after we buy a material thing we feel an emptiness that tells us to try buying another item. She goes on to say, “A poem in your pocket is different. The whole way it works is different. In a way, you can’t spend a poem even if you want to. As opposed to money–which seems intent upon getting out of your pocket as though it were a feral animal – a poem settles in. When I say ‘pocket’ here, I mean ‘mind.’ A poem settles into your mind…You don’t ever have to spend your poem to get the good from it – and by ’spend’ I mean ’share’ it. And actually, I recommend hoarding it, at least for some time, perhaps forever.

She then addresses the idea that poems connect us to others which she sees as an over-simplification. She speaks about how poems help us with our eternal sense (at least that's what I took from her words). She concedes that "on some level poems can, of course, do good works and bind us together.” There's something paradoxical, almost magical about poetry, because poems "leave you in the fullest possible possession of your self while simultaneously providing the intimate escape from self."

One of the poems that stayed with me is this one by Emily Dickinson which was not familiar to me and reminds me of the T.S. Elliot line that poems are felt before they are understood.

The Heart has narrow Banks

It measures like the Sea

In mighty - unremitting Bass

And Blue Monotony

u

Till Hurricane bisect

And as itself discerns

Its insufficient Area

The Heart convulsive learns

y

That Calm is but a Wall

Of unattempted Gauze

An instant's Push demolishes

A Questioning - dissolves.

How Does Thunder Sound?

It's been raining a lot lately.

And thundering. And lightening.

In today's New York Times

there is a beautifully crafted,

short piece about thunder on a farm.

~

I'll put it as the first comment

for your reading pleasure -

and I don't use those words lightly.

On Comments and Rav Hirsch's Humanism

I appreciate comments and questions regarding what I write. I try to take people's remarks seriously.

Recently I wrote about a movie, which sounded intriguing to me. It's about three hours long and just watches monks in their element. I included rave reviews and mentioned my hopefulness tinged by ambivalence regarding the movie. Sometimes acclaimed documentaries don't grab me the way they excite the reviewers. (Since that writing I've watched about 40 minutes of the movie and find it good but not so easy to watch).

Flying Bubbie had this to say about that post, "It's a very mysterious concept to me, I'll tell you, opting out. But people say we do this, as Orthodox Jews, all the time. We say we're different, though, and as the drill is based on doing things, being active, maybe we are." I gave that comment some thought and wrote a long response, which I hope was helpful to Flying Bubbie and other serious minded readers.

Last Friday I was at a beautiful bris and wrote up some of the Torah of the parents. Included in that post was the fact that the esteemed late grandfather of the newborn boy was fond of the expression Mensch-Yisrael (which I wrote the way Rabbi Norman Lamm put in a drasha of his in 1966, as Yisrael-Mensch). Yitz Newton commented that, "R' Hirsch's was "Mensch-Yisroel."

The comment got me curious as to where Rav Hirsch uses the phrase. I sought the help of librarian friends - Beverly Geller at Frisch and Zalman Alpert at Y.U. The former pointed me in the direction of the eighth volume of The Collected Writings of Rav Hirsch, which is named Mensch -Yisrael: Perspectives In Judaism. In the introduction to that work the editor writes that Rav Hirsch used this term in his seminal work on the commandments, Horeb. I found it there and posted about it last night. I hope that the research I've done and shared has been helpful to Yitz Newton and other serious readers.

Zalman enlisted the help of Dr. Itzhak Levine, who pointed out that there is an extended footnote in Horeb, in which the editor, Dayan Grunfeld, addresses the term. He also showed me where it is available on line. I have pasted that note as the first comment. It is fascinating.

At the end of his in depth footnote, Dr. Grunfeld writes, "see also Humanism and Judaism, by Dr Mendel Hirsch (a son of Samson Raphael Hirsch). Dr. Levine found that article on line, here.

HaYom

At the end of the bris I remembered I had my camera with me and had a quick picture taken with my dad, he should live and be well. On the walk home from the bus station I remembered the camera again and captured more of the day in the spirit of Our Town.

After Yisrael Mordechai's Bris

This morning I attended the bris of my second cousin's son. He was named for my second cousin by marriage's father who was a prominent and special rabbi and man - yehi zichro baruch. They both spoke beautifully, mostly about her father. There's a phrase he liked, Yisrael Mentsch, coined - apparently - by Rabbi S.R. Hirsch, which Aliza aptly applied to her father. She also cited from Rabbi Norman Lamm's explanation that mentsch ultimately means ish -man, as in bemakom she'ein anashim hishtadel lihiyot ish - where there are no men, strive to be a man.

She cited from a talk of Rabbi Lamm, in which he explores aspects of the word ish, as used in the beginning of Moshe's story. Vayar ki ein ish. Moshe did not vacillate. He realized what had to be done, stepped up, and did it. On the other hand, he pointed out the medrash, which says that Moshe was discerning. In this latter approach the word ish applies to the man Moshe felt deserved death. He looked at this man and saw no-one of moral worth, not at present, and not in generations. Also he pointed to, "Ve'Ha'Ish Moshe Anav..." - Moshe the man was exceedingly humble. He was humble in the truest (as opposed to popular misconceptions of the characteristic) sense of the word.

As Shabbos approaches I will be thinking about the lovely Torah and words of tribute which I heard today. There's so much more, perhaps I'll write it at another time. But there's nothing like writing about something as it is still settling into your heart.

Recent Keyword Activity

Someone googled the words rabi after bruno and the number one result was a post of mine about Bruno Sammartino. Shortly after this post, following a performance of A Match Made In Manhattan, an old friend of mine who I hadn't seen in many years told me that he read my blog. He said that he particularly liked the post on Bruno Sammartino. Then he told me that the blog he really likes is Renegade Rebetzin. Everyone should have their favorite blog. But why do they have to tell me about it?

Tuesday, August 02, 2005

Bruno Sammartino

When I was a kid my brother and I made a Saturday night ritual of watching wrestling. It was on the mostly Spanish UHF channel 47. The announcer was Vince McMahon. The stars included chief Jay Strongbow, Pedro Morales, and Bruno Sammartino. This was before wrestling got big and dark. Back then there were a lot of good guys. It all came back to me when I saw this news story. May G-d bless Bruno. He really is one of the good guys.

SAMMARTINO REFUSES HALL OF FAME INVITATION - The Associated Press ran a story about Bruno Sammartino who refused an invitation to be inducted in the 2005 WWE Hall Of Fame. Sammartino - 69 - said that he refused because he believes today's wrestling is "vulgar, profane and bad for children. I've completely divorced myself from the wrestling world. I don't believe in it," he said. "I would wonder where my principles are if I accepted," Sammartino added.

On Friendship

A friend, working in a Camp Nesher, called me this morning for a story on friendship. He's speaking at Shaloshudis and wanted ideas. I hope I was helpful.

Soon after we hung up I came here to the library. I picked up Forbes and turned to the back page; Thoughts On The Business Of Life. Fatefully, their topic this week is friendship. The two lines that got my attention:

"He is a fine friend. He stabs you in the front." - Leonard Louis Levinson

"It takes a great deal of bravery to stand up to our enemies, but just as much to stand up to our friends."

The Elephant Outside the Room

When a celebrity dies I am hesitant to write about it. Yet, I'm sure everyone knows who I'm talking about and I might as well address it.

He may have looked a bit different than other celebrities. He was certainly his own person. His career was on the quiet side for the last while yet his prime was enough to keep him embedded in our memories.

I'm talking, of course, about Karl Malden, who died on Wednesday at the age of 97.

Eric D. Snider wrote the following for Cinematical.com:

Karl Malden, an Oscar- and Emmy-winning actor and former president of the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences, died of natural causes today in Los Angeles at the age of 97. His long life and successful career were virtually free of scandal or controversy, and as an actor he was by all accounts a consummate professional. He and his wife, Mona, who survives him, were married for 70 years, which might literally be a show-business record.

Robert Berkvist, in his laudatory obituary in The Times wrote:

Mr. Malden never forgot his beginnings as a son of immigrants, nor did he lose his perspective. Not long after his Oscar-winning work with Vivien Leigh in “Streetcar,” he referred to himself as probably “the only ex-milkman Vivien ever kissed in a movie.” In an interview nearly a half-century later, he said he thought of an actor’s work as “digging ditches.” “Sometimes they’re deep and sometimes they’re shallow,” he said, “but we keep digging them.”

I got the news (and the obituaries i cited) via The Week, a source I just became aware of.

Address Unknown

Somewhere in the compassion

Between chaos and a dream

Between wisdom and belief

Between surrender and control

Between fragile and eternal

Between question and courage

Between balance and beauty

Between value and voice

Between letters and law

Somewhere around there

I live

H.O.T.D.

It is possible
through an act of gratitude
to transform our selves

Turning A Curse Into A Blessing

This week's parsha has a subtext of G-d's love for us. It addresses the issue of how to show love. Not easy. I write not as an expert but as hopeful student.

From Flight To Arras

"There is no growth except in the fulfillment of obligations."

i

This quote blows me away, not the words themselves as much as the fact that they were written by Antoine de Saint Exupéry.

,

It reminds me (lehavdil) of the assertion that,"If you can't say no to people, you can't say no to your yetzer harah," attributed to Rav Aryeh Levine!

Luggage

The eight poems posted under this post were written while I waited for the bus last Wednesday. I also wrote this one about courage. I was thinking, in part, about The Book of Qualities. I was channeling the energy/frustration of the long bus wait. In retrospect it was a pretty productive hour. I wrote this one - about a holy friend - during that time.

Here's one right out of the oven:

All that I see goes

In the bags under my eyes

They are for storage

Humor

Your sense of humor
Will drop by and save your life
If you let her in

Self Reliance

On self reliance
You can surely/always count
If you can own it

Sad Pity

Self pity remains
the saddest of all the pities
standing so alone

Impatience

Extreme impatience
Loves to drive you to your grave
Going way too fast

Pity

Pity; enemy

Though he poses as a friend

The friend is kindness

Whom pity pushes aside

So you stay just where you are

Insecurity

Insecurity
Promts us to show what we know
When it's not our turn
When someone else has the stage
And it makes us look foolish

Tiredness and Anger

Tiredness, like her
Cousin Anger
can be your friend
if you will just listen
to what she is
saying

Hunger and Boredom

Hunger
and her brother
Boredom
come by
to point out
holes in our insides.

One Of The Stars

Mazal Tov! Yesterday a dear friend, whom I've mentioned here several times, got married. There's a picture of him here. He is a chavruta/true friend. How it great it was to spend time with him that eternal summer. "Someone once told me that Yerushalayim is called 'Ir shechubrah lah yachdav' because you tend to meet so many people that you know there." That's what Jon said to at the Kotel one day, from behind me, catching me off guard. He was quoting an idea I once told him, as we met - by surprise - in Yerushalayim. (I originally heard the idea from my friend Rabbi Avraham Newman).

I also mention Jon here, citing Torah that he told me. One of the people he quoted was his mesader kidushin and MC yesterday, Rabbi Dan Friedman. He called me up (to my surprise) to read the tana'im, and when I finally made it through the crowd Rabbi Friedman commented, "Jon tells me you're funny, so I expect you to be funny now" (or something to that effect. I chose to play it straight. As I stepped down from reading the tana'im, Rabbi Jonathan Rosenblatt asked me, "What, no jokes?" Sometimes I think this Funniest Rabbi title is more trouble than it's worth (and, pretty obviously from the name of my blog and more, there are other times when I don't think that).

Jon once asked me about the poem called Tourists by Amichai and I re-posted it in his honor. (I'm still shook up by a recent presentation I heard from a well known speaker/scholar. He cited this Amichai poem and mocked it in terms of form as not being a poem, and misrepresented it in terms of content as proposing that the past of Jerusalem does not matter at all.)

Three years ago, standing at the Kotel I gave Jon a copy of Aaron Bulman (Z"L)'s book and inscribed it with these words:

Dear Jon,

p

I spread his books

around my worlds

as a non believer

would spread his ashes

o

These books are pieces

of Aaron and thus pieces of me,

friends of distinction

like you

b

Perhaps one day there will be

a physical book of my poems

In my mind it is written

with you one of the stars

n

We were blessed this summer

in the city that unites souls

to talk Torah in our way

Torah that restores spirit:

u

Holiness of friends

like the Western Wall itself
hovers and protects

On the Amtrak train to the Baltimore wedding I wrote this:

h

I think of the leaves

on this beautiful flower

also beautiful

l

During chazarat hashatz of Minchah this came to me:

g

G-d is present tense

Building Jerusalem and

Returning to Zion

i

The Chupah was outside and it was drizzling. Remarkably (though no-one mentioned it), the rain came to a halt as the Chupah started.

l

The rain trickles down

A guy I married says hi

Soon, soon - the Chupah

l

During the meal I caught up briefly with a woman who used to live in my neighborhood. She asked if I still write haiku. I don't remember why she knows that I do. I told her that I'd just written one (the one about waiting for the Chupah to start) and shared it. She didn't seem crazy about it.

l

A short while later I bumped into someone who graduated about ten years ago from the high school I teach in. She's involved in a poetry organization that is interested in creating a poetry league for yeshiva high schools. I think they envision it as a poetry slam kind of thing and they want it to be edgy, just as they wish to be. And they want to oversee it themselves.

h

It was so great to see my friend, to see him getting married, to see him filled with light.

h

He wrote a poem

to read in the yichud room

showed it just to me

l

The mesader kiddushin cited a vort from Toldot Yaakov Yoseif : Why do we say Mah Tovu in Shul, as it refers to the home? That blessing depicts positively Jewish ohalot and mishkenot. Toldot Yaakov Yoseif suggests what is straightforward, but not usually broken down and focused upon. An ohel is a home, a mishkan is a sanctuary, and the two have a symbiotic relationship. (That's my take, actually, that each one feeds into the holiness of the other. His take was specifically that the public temples are only as holy as the private homes.)

h

The fellow sitting next to me at the Chupah told me a nice thought. Here's my riff on what he heard on Shabbos at a Shul his acapella group performed at. He said that jealousy is a normal human emotion. The extreme contrast between Korach and Moshe was the degree to which they tamed or were overtaken by their emotions. Korach was probably not the only Jew at that time to be jealous of Moshe, but boy did he let it get the better of him. And Moshe was not the only human at the time to have have potential for greatness, but boy did he ever achieve greatness. May we each be so blessed.

Don't Allow The Lucid Moment To Dissolve

A friend just lent me Sarah's Key. I searched for reviews and a positive one came up on the blog sheistoofondofbooks.com. I looked around on the blog and found a nice post about how this blogger wishes to broaden her reading habits and so she attended a poetry reading of a recommended poet. She posted this poem of his (like all his work, translated from Polish), which I in turn pass on to you:

Try to Praise the Mutilated World

By Adam Zagajewski

k

Try to praise the mutilated world.

Remember June’s long days,

and wild strawberries, drops of wine, the dew.

The nettles that methodically overgrow

the abandoned homesteads of exiles.

You must praise the mutilated world.

You watched the stylish yachts and ships;

one of them had a long trip ahead of it,

while salty oblivion awaited others.

You’ve seen the refugees heading nowhere,

you’ve heard the executioners sing joyfully.

You should praise the mutilated world.

Remember the moments when we were together

in a white room and the curtain fluttered.

Return in thought to the concert where music flared.

You gathered acorns in the park in autumn

and leaves eddied over the earth’s scars.

Praise the mutilated world

and the grey feather a thrush lost,

and the gentle light that strays and vanishes

and returns.

p

In the comments on Dawn's post someone cited this poem, which I think I like even better. The one cited above was written right after 9/11, so the darkness is understandable, and the hope is remarkable. In this next one hope and light more prominently assume center stage:

j

Don't Allow The Lucid Moment To Dissolve

By Adam Zagajewski

l

Don't allow the lucid moment to dissolve

Let the radiant thought last in stillness

though the page is almost filled and the flame flickers

We haven't risen yet to the level of ourselves

Knowledge grows slowly like a wisdom tooth

The stature of a man is still notched

high up on a white door

From far off, the joyful voice of a trumpet

and of a song rolled up like a cat

What passes doesn't fall into a void

A stoker is still feeding coal into the fire

Don't allow the lucid moment to dissolve

On a hard dry substance

you have to engrave the truth

n

Translated by Renata Gorczynski

Ghosts of Korachs Past

Wishing everyone a great Shabbos.

Here's an Erev Shabbos post featuring a piece by Hillel Goldberg about Shabbos, called If Only. In the same post I discuss some of my students' (and my) thoughts about a machloket shelo lesheim shmayim.

Here's a Korach link, with links within.

Rabbi Yizchak Twerski develops a connection between Kayin and Korah.
Part I
Part II

Into Great Silence

I first read about this movie in February 2007 when it came out. It got so little hype that I referred to it as "the monk movie" when I tried to convince friends to see it with me at the one art house theater where it played in New York City. The Time's review by A.O. Scott sold me on it, with lines like the concluding one, "I hesitate, given the early date and the project’s modesty, to call 'Into Great Silence' one of the best films of the year. I prefer to think of it as the antidote to all of the others." Throughout the review the critic describes how the film maker remarkably presents the lives of these monks in a way in which you can feel it:

"Like the monks themselves, it is both humble and exalted. And, in its way, eloquent. The idea of removing yourself entirely from the world is a radical one, and Mr. Gröning approaches it with fascination and a measure of awe. At first, as your mind adjusts to the film’s contemplative pace, you may experience impatience. Where is the story? Who are these people? But you surrender to “Into Great Silence” as you would to a piece of music, noting the repetitions and variations, encountering surprises just when you think you’ve figured out the pattern. By the end, what you have learned is impossible to sum up, but your sense of the world is nonetheless perceptibly altered."

That review prompted me to want to see the film, but it played all too briefly. I hadn't thought about it until Netflix recommended it. That Netflix computer program knows my movie tastes better than a lot of people do. It's a long movie, but I hope to get to it soon. The Times' review addresses the length of the film, "Only one monk, elderly and blind, speaks directly to the camera. Appearing near the end of the film, he muses on the nature of his vocation and the texture of his religious devotion. Past and present are human categories, he says, but “for God, there is no past, only present.” Viewed from this perspective — from the standpoint of eternity — “Into Great Silence,” with a running time of 162 minutes, is absurdly short.

I confess that while I want to like long documentaries, I don't always get what I want. After years of looking forward to The Up Series, based on rave reviews, I started watching it and had a hard time buying into it. Also, I'm a bit wary that the fact that I have my own spiritual practice, which I love and believe in deeply, may take away from how much I appreciate this film. More than one of my friends were inspired by the spiritual aspects of Eat, Love, Pray, but that book failed to surprise or touch me.

Still, I have high hopes for this film.

Roger Ebert also thought very highly of this film, ending his review with the following words:

"So, what happens in the course of the picture? As you would expect, everything and nothing. You get the feeling that whatever you witness has probably happened countless times before. Novices are admitted. A clock is re-set, then straightened. On one sunny walk, there's a discussion about the moral implications of hand-washing: how it should be done, and how much. On another walk, the monks slide down a snowy slope. Those are among the action-packed highlights.

But they are not what "Into Great Silence" is about. A movie is always about what happens to you as you watch it, and Groning's stated intention was to entice the viewer to assemble his or her own experience of the film by asking questions and making discoveries as it unreels. Sometimes these questions are elemental: What am I looking at? Is it day or night? At other moments they are experiential: What task or ritual is this? Where are they going? And at others they are more existential: What does it take to find meaning in the physical and psychological discipline of such a life? Are the monks happy, or content? What does the concept of "happiness" mean in this context?

Each of us is left to discover the answers for ourselves."

Not Long, Not Road, Not Home

Some books, despite relative obscurity, remain with you. There's a book like that, which I found years ago in my local library. It's about a Jewish, intermarried, radio therapist who finds Yiddish letters from her long gone grandmother. She gets the letters translated and starts on a journey that she hopes will reveal to her the secret behind the hidden wedding gown (in the attic) that she got in big trouble for donning as a child. I remember it being poetic and insightful, and I bought into the story.

The funny thing is that I often try to recall the name of the book, perhaps to recommend it. And I start thinking that it's something about the road home or the journey home. The Long Road Home? No. The Long Journey Home? Path? Still, no. I google around and become increasingly determined to find the answer, even as the results seem further and further off. After a while I remember that the phrasing is original. Yes it's something like "the long way home," but uses a fresher turn of words. Not long, not road or journey, probably not even home. But what are the title words used to convey this cliche' in an original way?

Eventually I find it. I just succeeded in this familiar ritual/scavenger hunt. I'm posting the name of the book (and recommending it) here, in part so that this post will serve as a reference for me the next time I think of this wonderful work and struggle to remember that it's The Slow Way Back. by Judy Goldman.

Courage

Courage can be

the quietest one

in the room

p

She's funny

(not ha-ha)

like that

Tonight: A Photo Journal

Here's what happened... I was ready to leave school at 7:10, then remembered that after 6:40 the bus comes on the hour instead of every half hour. I went out at 7:35 for the 7:41 bus. With the new school building to my right, the Roy Bossolt Park to my left and a lawn and flag behind me, I waited.

Holy P.M.

Tonight, while staring at the house across the street from the bus stop in front of work in Pasaic, and waiting for 70 minutes for the bus to arrive I wrote this poem:

Holy P.M.

A friend of mine lives

next door to a bus stop

and knows each of the

"cleaning ladies" and "nannies"

in her neighborhood by their first

names

because she regularly drives these

people

to the Englewood homes

where they are

workers.

An Ouch Poem

Up in the deceptively bright morning
5:35 and I want to be sleeping instead
of sitting and writing these words, again
these angst sated words, as I mine for hope

But if I was not here, and was in bed, I think
I'd wish that I got up from here to sit and write
"If only I'd get up I'd be writing The Great Poem"
I'm going back to bed, see how that works out for me

Breathing and Blogging and Linking...

I am busy with end of school year related work. Still, one needs to breathe, and part of my breathing is writing and part of my writing is blogging.

A dear friend recommended that I watch The Last Detective. He said that the character reminds him of me. I read up a bit on the show and wasn't sure how backhanded this compliment was. Then I found this quote, and now it's all good: "Frankly," one captured criminal tells him, "it's a pleasure to be arrested by you."

Speaking of quotes, I really liked this question, posed by David Baird in A Thousand Paths To Happiness, "Why is it we so hate being taught when we're so happy to learn?"

In the same book, the author raises this paradox, which I've wondered about, "Is there a humble person who isn't proud of the fact?" I've asked myself, "If someone considers someone else arrogant, is there some arrogance in that judgement? Similarly, "Is it iffy to think you are humble?"

While we're on books and quotes here's a quote by a man who was moved by a book many years ago and went out to find the author and made a movie about it called Stone Reader, "Like all secret hopes...when they vanish, you realize you'd done too little to make them happen" - Mark Moskowitz. (It's a remarkable movie.)

That film opens with these words of Ernest Hemingway (in an extended version that doesn't seem to be on line), "All good books have one thing in common - they are truer than if they had really happened."

While I was looking up that saying, this line caught my eye, "All things truly wicked start from an innocence." - Ernest Hemingway. There is something very original, insightful, and striking about those words.

On the topic of character, there's a story I've quoted several times, and it seems to always garner 6 comments. It's passed on as a Cherokee story, or simply as a Native American tradition. I cited it here, in a post that I wrote right after a friend mentioned the idea of my facilitating a presentation on middot and teaching. A nice comment exchange with Neil Harris followed.

I just went onto Neil Harris' blog and found that he links to this amazing short video presentation of Rabbi Avigdor Miller talking about the miracle called an apple. (I don't think that Rabbi Miller would have approved being put on Youtube, and he probably wouldn't have backed the smoothly produced and marketed video. This is not to say that I'm not pleased to have watched it. I am.)

I also cited that Cherokee story during my question period of blogging. And I posted it straight up in this one called, Two Wolves. I've also mentioned (not sure if it's in one of these posts or others that reference the story) that President Richard Joel and I tend to use some of the same stories, and this is one of them (another one is The Kite Story, which I write about here, and tell here.

A very recent post included thoughts on the mishnah's statement regarding kinah, ta'avah, and kavod. A reader asked where the mishnah was and I referenced it in the footnote, along with a bit of commentary (which I would have phrased differently had I written it myself). That reminded me of the following, different take on that statement:

The Gemorah in Sanhedrin (102a) tells of a moment when Yerabam ben Nebat was grabbed by the robe by G-d and told - "Do you turn back in teshuvah, and I, you, and the son of Yishai (i.e. King David) will stroll together in the Garden of Eden?" Yirabam asks - "Who will go first?" And G-d says, "The son of Yishai." And to this Yerabam says, "No thanks."

Irving Bunim applies this tale to the mishnah which states that "Jealousy, desire, and honor remove a person from the world." He cites Avot DeRabi Natan which specifies that the world these traits takes a person from is The World To Come. Bunim puts it this way in his Ethics From Sinai Vol II - page 194: "If the twisted, morally vitiated inner self cannot live in this world but will be removed, no more will it be able to live in the Hereafter, where it will arrive quite intact and unaltered." (You can read more about this here).

Recently at a Se'udat Hoda'ah the Cherokee story came up and someone mentioned that it inspired a song called Two Wolves. I like the idea that it was made into a song, but I didn't enjoy the actual song as much as I'd hoped I would (available at Youtube). Does it remind anyone else of this song?

Speaking of animals, on June 22nd someone googled the words "whittling a horse" and then went to the third response, which was this haiku post. I like that one, and the responses.

Someone in the film Stone Reader referenced the first italicized words in the quote below. It's interesting that Frost himself rails against this, in this late in life interview (Paris Review, Summer 1960) quote by Robert Frost:

"So many talk, I wonder how falsely, about what it costs them, what agony it is to write. I’ve often been quoted: 'No tears in the writer, no tears in the reader. No surprise for the writer, no surprise for the reader.' But another distinction I made is: however sad, no grievance, grief without grievance. How could I, how could anyone have a good time with what cost me too much agony, how could they? What do I want to communicate but what a hell of a good time I had writing it? The whole thing is performance and prowess and feats of association. Why don’t critics talk about those things—what a feat it was to turn that that way, and what a feat it was to remember that, to be reminded of that by this? Why don’t they talk about that? Scoring. You’ve got to score. They say not, but you’ve got to score, in all the realms—theology, politics, astronomy, history, and the country life around you."

The second half of Stone Reader is introduced with this quote on the screen, "The present moment is unlike the memory of it. Remembering is not the negative of forgetting. Remembering is a form of forgetting" -Milan Kundera. Wow. I think about that a lot. Memory is about how we react to an experience. People tell me that I have a good memory, but it feels more to me like I experience things strongly - that's what I'd call it.

I've been writing this post in stitches over a couple of days. Along with this I've been finishing up marking, dealing with late work from students, and watching Stone Reader. The movie came out in 2002 and I watched it online via Netflix, which I started recently. The movie is about reading and thinking and searching and longing and and and. I liked it. After the movie came out the book at its center was republished after 30 years of being out of print. I checked it out on Amazon and a funny (not ha-ha) thing happened. There are 4 books listed that people who bought The Stones of Summer went on to also buy. One of the books (and I don't know the connection) is one which I'd never heard of until it was just recommended to me (The Guernsey Literary and Potato Peel Pie Society.)

With Feathers

Lately I feel that I have been more cautious and cryptic here than once.

I am fascinated by the connection between jealousy and hope. Five months ago I wrote this tanka on the topic, which I posted together with some other things, such as excerpts from Debra Winger's memoir. That post had a nice thread of comments.

When one is jealous

One seeks to destroy that thing

That makes one jealous

Unless there is hope that is

Then one learns from jealousy

Nine months ago I conceived this paragraph, based on the insight of a friend, which later led to the tanka:

Jealousy is most destructive when hopelessness runs high. Jealousy is human. If one is jealous and has hope then one can combine the information gained from the jealousy, i.e. what one really wants, and then with the surrounding hope make positive efforts. If, G-d forbid, hopelessness is pervasive, then one destroys that which one is jealous of, both in others that have it in a developed form as well as whatever amount of the desired trait one has within oneself.

Over this Shabbos I thought of a chidush:

The mishnah says that kin'ah, ta'ava, and kavod - jealousy, desire, and honor remove a person from this world. If these things can remove a person from the world then that means you need to be struggling with them - to some extent - to be in this world in the first place.

This poem just came to mind:

Hope

By Emily Dickinson

0
Hope is the thing with feathers

That perches in the soul,

And sings the tune--without the words,

And never stops at all,

And sweetest in the gale is heard;

And sore must be the storm

That could abash the little bird

That kept so many warm.

m

I've heard it in the chillest land,

And on the strangest sea;

Yet, never, in extremity,

It asked a crumb of me.

Ghosts of Shlachs Past

This year on parshapost I present an essay by Sherrie B. Miller. I learned from it and I hope you do too.

I remain intrigued by the observation I mentioned here about the fact that 3 parshiyot's names are a form of the word shlach - to send. I also kind of enjoyed revisiting this entire post and its comments.

In this post I write about Shlach as well as a topic I think about often and was just discussing tonight; is it possible to (legitimately) reframe our conception of lashon hara?

Here, I cite a great piece by Rabbi Leibtag and, speaking about ghosts, I remember my dear friend and mentor Aaron Bulman Z"L - "his lips speak (Torah) from the grave" -Yebamoth 97a (see this blog for an interesting essay on this concept), who first introduced me to the Torah of Rabbi Leibtag.

This post deals with the idea that the meraglim were expected to learn from Miriam's mistake. The question could be raised; she spoke about a man, they spoke about a land, so how were they supposed to know the same rule applied (and does it really?)

Wishing you an early Shabbat Shalom. May we be blessed to grow from this week's parsha.

I've Got A Need For Sleep

"Zeh hayom asah Hashem..." "This is the day G-d made let us rejoice and be happy in it." King David doesn't say which day he's referring to. I think this is because he is talking about every day.

Today was a good day for me and I hope for you too. I had great company and conversation for both dinner and lunch. My lunch friend told me a great story about how he was in Psych grad school and gave a class presentation and sat behind the big desk and the teacher asked him if he enjoyed the feeling of power... There's more to the story. Let me know if you need to know.

How do you define need? That question came up at dinner. The halacha - ruling seems to be that if something needs to be said then it's allowed to say it without worry of lashon harah - improper speech. What I see as a need and you see as a need are very different creatures, so the plot thickens.

Amidst much pleasant talk about talk and about thought and about perception (and and and) this quote came up at dinner, "Great minds discuss ideas, average minds discuss events, small minds discuss people." My friend heard it at a shiur, in which the rabbi said it in the name of Eleanore Roosevelt. I've heard this before without any attribution. I am always curious about stories and quotes and find that it's often hard to know for sure where these truisms originated. Most important is to try to live them. Still, I was inclined to poke around regarding the source of these words.

In a Wikiquote (which I'd never heard of till a minute ago) entry on Roosevelt it puts the quote under Disputed, stating, "This has been quoted without citation as a statement of Eleanor Roosevelt. It is usually attributed to Admiral Hyman G. Rickover, but though Rickover quoted this, he did not claim to be the author of it; in The World of the Uneducated in The Saturday Evening Post (28 November 1959), he prefaces it with 'As the unknown sage puts it...'Great minds discuss ideas, average minds discuss events, and little minds discuss people.' In this form it was quoted as an anonymous epigram in A Guide to Effective Public Speaking (1953) by Lawrence Henry Mouat. Several other variants or derivatives of the expression exist, but none provide a definite author: 'Great minds discuss ideas, mediocre minds discuss events, small minds discuss personalities.' 'Great minds discuss ideas - Average minds discuss events - Small minds discuss people.' 'Small minds discuss things - Average minds discuss people - Great minds discuss ideas.'"

In googling the quote I came across this entry by fellow bloggers, NorthofAndorra. I find it fascinating that what friends of mine and I tend to think of as a local issue of loshon hara, is for some, a universal concern. I really liked this post and the light it sheds on the origins of this quote. I'd never heard of Tobias Wilson, one of the purported coiners of this adage. I learned more about him here. I have heard of, seen, and read Fran Leibowitz and just recently was wondering what she's up to these days.

In seven hours I need to be on my way to work, "I got a feeling I'm not the only one." Can you identify that quote? (And while you're at it, care to name what quote referenced by this post's title?)

Good night and G-d bless

you and I and the rest of

the world to sleep well

and to wake up and speak well

about truly deep ideas