Good Stuff in the World

"We hear every damn day about how fragile our country is -- on the brink of catastrophe -- torn by polarizing hate and how it’s a shame that we can’t work together to get things done, but the truth is we do. We work together to get things done every damn day." - John Stewart

I like this quote. It reminds me to be positive and cultivate amazement about all the ways people are suceeding all the time. Parents raise their children, incredible organizations help people in need, books are written, songs are sung, planes takeoff into the air, friends give each other advice, love is shared, 3-year-olds have birthday parties (like the one I attended this morning), and each of us wakes up each morning.

Let's celebrate our successes!

The Amazing Waffle Iron

My mom bought a waffle iron when she and my dad were living in a greenish duplex in Greenlake in Seattle, before I was born. It was $1.00 at a garage sale. This waffle iron has been cooking waffles for us for 28 years. I'm in a nostalgic mood, being home after adventures across the country and across the world. It's nice to know that as so much changes, there are simple delicious things that stay the same. Here's to blackberry waffles, maple syrup, warm sunday brunches, and beautiful Northwest mornings with people you love.

Longing

I'm in a serious longing state right now... longing for community, for home, for partnership, for true friendship, for peace/wholeness, for connection, for looking into eyes that I say "I know you", for nature's embrace... many things which seem just out of my grasp at the moment.

I feel it's important to find a balance between recognizing the longing- living in it, loving/embracing it, and then working to make it come together. Ebb and flow... perhaps it's all one and the same. Different sides of the same coin. Different views of the same glorious mountain. Without all the views, all the perspectives, we wouldn't have a whole.

But how do I settle in the balance?


Desert Rainbow, all part of the oneness:

Remembering

I've noticed that a lot of my fellow bloggers have already written about it, but I'm adding in my experience. Today was Yom Hashoah- Holocaust Remembrance Day. For all my struggles to find a Jewish community, feel comfortable and at home within Judaism, I have never had trouble connecting to stories of the Holocaust. Reading both Anne's diary and Number the Stars in 6th grade deeply affected my life and when I visited the Anne Frank Museum in Amsterdam 7 years ago, I cried pretty much from the moment I walked in until I left.

I often take issue with how the Holocaust seems to be a crutch for many Jews- the penultimate victim narrative that we just can't seem to move beyond. And what I see as an excuse for Israel to do things I do not agree with. But to be here for Yom Hashoah was a moving experience. At 10 am, sirens were sounded, and for a few minutes, everyone just stopped. I looked out a window at Pardes onto a busy street and I all I could think of was that Improv Everywhere stunt where a group of people suddenly freeze in the middle of Grand Central Station. It was surreal- things started to get quiet just before the siren started, then, suddenly, the wail of the siren began and people froze on the sidewalks, cars pulled to the side of the road, taxi drivers opened their car doors, got out and stood still. It was eerie, as time stopped in remembrance for a few moments.

Then just as soon as it had come to a halt, life picked right back up again. People slung their backpacks over their shoulders, hopped on their bikes, and continued on their way. Cars continued on the road, everyone went about their business.

Of all the communities devastated by World War II, Jews are the only one who have not yet recovered their population. We were 18 million prior to the Holocaust, and today we are 13 million.

I heard a survivor speak today. Soon there won't be any left. I will remember, and I will tell stories.

What is culture?

What makes us different? Why are those differences important? Why is it important to maintain cultural heritage/traditions/rituals? Specifically I'm thinking about Judaism, but I think these questions could be applied to anything. Judaism has existed for a long time. Why is it important that it keep existing? (There is the whole argument that Torah is truth, which is a huge huge one, and I don't mean to discredit it, but for the purposes of this line of thought, I'm putting it aside for now.)

Should Judaism be maintained just because it's been around for 3,000+ years? There are other things in this world that have been done for a long time that I don't think should continue. What does it mean for something to have cultural value? How does culture enrich our lives? 4 years ago in France I participated in an intercultural training for young adults from over 10 countries. As others shared their customs and cultural stories, I found little in "American" culture that was meaningful in my life. So my default for speaking about my traditions/heritage/etc. was Judaism. That's where I felt I had something meaningful to add to the conversation, to share in an exchange. Ok, so there's value, so these practices do enrich our lives. But what does that mean for how we treat other people?

It seems we need to belong to something in order to live comfortably in this world. We search for a town, an ethnicity, a club, a religion, a school, a family, a cause, an organization that we can feel an affiliation with. These communities form our identities, we feel lost without them. Yet, continually, over and over, throughout history and everywhere today, these affiliations perpetuate judgment through an us/them mentality. "I'm a democrat and if you don't agree with me, you're wrong." We belong to something to be able to say the other side is less than us.
What is a world without affiliations? Is it a meaningless colorless world? How do we get to a place where we are all looking out for the other? Where we don't shove aside someone in trying to get to a holy site? Where we don't make half-joking-but-still-cruel comments about members of our own community behind their backs or even to their faces? How do we get beyond our insecurities?

I have some ideas, but I'm really curious to hear what you think.

What to write? About a Palestinian wedding

SO much has been happening the past few weeks... it's difficult to find the time to write, let alone choose what to write about.

A couple weeks ago I had the honor of attending a wedding in Bethlehem. The bride was the sister of a friend of mine from Seeds of Peace (a facilitator at camp last summer). I found out about it at the last minute and I hesitated a bit in deciding to go only because the wedding took place on a Friday night. I had decided in coming here to do what I could to be shomer shabbat. But I decided the wedding was an opportunity I just couldn't pass up. However, it was very weird to light the shabbos candles, then walk out dressed nice like everyone else, but instead of going to shul, I went to the bus stop to take a Palestinian bus into Bethlehem.

The event was so fancy! Lots of food, video cameras, fireworks, lights, music, more food, lots of people, fog machines and fake snow! The dancing was pretty much divided between men and women. The style of dancing was different than I'm used to. I tried to pay attention to what other women were doing so I could at least pretend to fit in. There were 4 of us (non-Palestinians) who came together and I don't think anyone would ever have thought we fit in, but at least I could try not to be offensive...

The feeling of community was so strong, everyone supporting this bride and groom as they start their lives together. Such great communal excitement and celebration! The legal and religious ceremony was very small and had taken place a couple weeks before so this was the time for everyone to gather. There was a great diversity in terms of women's dress- conservative with hijabs to sleeveless cocktail dresses. And no alcohol (because Muslims don't drink)- this was different from most American weddings.

There was a beautiful candle ceremony with all the girls. There were aspects of the wedding that were just like any other- stress to get everything to look just right, cameras everywhere, congratulating the bride and groom, cute little girls dancing with flowers in their hair... I just kept thinking, what a vibrant and lively culture!

Peace and Purim

Here is something I wrote right around Purim (a week and a half ago).

I’m debating being political... What isn’t political anyway? So, here goes. Last week, someone made a comment to me that aggression from Jewish settlers towards Arabs around Purim increases. I didn’t understand why at first, but I thought about it more. The story of the origin of the holiday of Purim is documented in the Book of Esther (one of the books in the Hebrew Bible). In the story the entire Jewish population is about to be annihilated because the King’s right-hand man, Haman (the quintessential villain), issues a decree calling for it. With the help of two Jews, Mordechai and his cousin Esther (who happens to be Queen), the Jews are saved and Haman is hung. A reverse decree gives Jews the right to defend themselves on the day they were set to be killed. (The story is much more nuanced and detailed but that’s the very basic idea.) One of the customs of Purim is to get so drunk you can’t tell the difference between good and bad. So the problems between Palestinians and settlers around Purim is that these Israelis look at Arabs as Haman or those who sided with Haman and decide to “defend themselves”. Obviously this is horrible... But what I want to focus on here is a particular way this reapplying of the Purim story to modern day really troubles me.

In my Tanakh class at Pardes we’ve been reading the Megillat Esther for the past 5 weeks. We talked today about not letting the story fade from our memory. It’s true that I don’t have the same feelings about the Holocaust as someone who survived a concentration camp. Memories slip away and often lose their meaning when we’ve no longer lived them. So how do we make sure not to lose them? By applying them to our current lives. The Torah is absolutely beautiful in this way- we can take things that happened thousands of years ago and apply these situations to our lives now. Torah continues to be actively lived and is what arguably connects us all as Jews.

So we look at the Megillah (Book of Esther) as applicable to our lives today. We call our enemies Haman. Haman who, seemingly out of nowhere, orders all Jews to be “massacred, killed, and destroyed.” (Ch3v13) We want to go after him/them as the Jews did in the story. We think it’s important to stand up for who are. Preserving our identity is worth killing for.

However, this means we are continually caught up in the binary of good and evil. If we say “the Jewish people will always have enemies,” then we’re going to find or create those enemies, whether or not they existed in the first place. I think we need to take note of how the Megillah gives us a more nuanced portrayal of Haman- we can see his weaknesses and his enormous insecurities. Why is the text written this way? Why do we get this window into what makes him tick? During his ultimate humiliation, when he has to parade Mordechai, the man who represents everything he is not, around as a hero, I almost feel sorry for Haman. He’s driven crazy by his obsessions with image, power, and money. Haman, as a person, becomes just sad for me, rather than a threat.

So what do we do about this “enemy” dilemma? The perpetuation of an us/them mentality isn’t getting us anywhere- and it just makes it easy to dismiss those we disagree with and/or don’t get along with, as opposed to trying to engage them or understand why they feel the way we do. By examining the character of Haman, we can see the importance of understanding who we call our enemy. Perhaps this may be a way to work towards a more peaceful world.

Article referencing violence on Purim:
http://www.jpost.com/Home/Article.aspx?id=169801