Purim Sameach from your friendly neighborhood sacred feminine uprising!
I have pictures of my bar mitzvah. There are lots from my wedding. Somewhere, there is even a videotape of my birth that I regret having watched once. We cherish the markers in life that signal our progress and try to capture those moments for the future.
How come the people I love most trigger me to behave so bad? What oh-so-sensitive buttons are these relationships pushing?
I have yet to find an answer. But I want to try.
I don't really value external, objective success, but I want a certain brand of it oh so badly. Will exploring this desire help me find peace?
A poem about crazy glimpses of alternate realities, and my desire to reach beyond my world, into something new.
A poem about my potential encounter with my deceased grandmother one Yom Kippur—and fear, doubt, mystery, and the mystical power of the sun.
I heard an other-worldly voice call out a word I needed a Hebrew-English Dictionary to translate...and what it means about the way we learn & teach & live Torah.
When there are so many limits on what you can write about, what can you write about?
Embarrassing admission: I had great fun at a Mensa conference. But the group's test-driven philosophy clashes with my deep-seated sense of the human mind and soul.