Thursday, February 24, 2011
In memory of those gone, turn my mourning into dancing...
Maybe it's the time of year or the depth of stillness but I have been thinking lately of those who lives have touched mine - my father's, my cousins Paul and Claudia, Denise, Paul Woolf - and the letting go of those special relationships I cannot carry today.
May all their memories continue to be a blessing....
Friday, February 18, 2011
You Say You Want A Revolution...*
(*...will that be with a side order of sit-ins or just a beheading?)
For me Boston often feels like a perpetual boiling point for civil rights. Every weekend seems to bring a new rally to The Common or Copley Square or The State House. Tea-Partiers, Immigrant Rights, Queer Rights, Labor Unions, all bump elbows in a town that is small enough to be tucked away in Manhattan’s Upper West Side. The streets and campuses here echo with the cries of the righteous, whoever that may be on any given day, to the point where the line between mainstream tolerance and indifference becomes blurred.
That being said, the current anti-Israeli sentiment around here is leaving me uneasy. Many of the tenets of protest I have lived by as a longtime activist seem to have been abandoned like yesterday’s space-saver in snow-buried Southie.
First is that over-used, least understood and much co-opted word ‘peace’. I learned my protesting from the school of Mohandas Gandhi, Alice Paul and Martin Luther King, Jr., where fighting back comes from a place of non-violence as opposed to "an acceptable level of violence", where you raised an open hand, not a clenched fist, you rose above your opponent instead of sinking down to them, you stood up rather than striking out; you disrupted the empire by sitting in, not by setting off bombs.
So it disturbs me greatly when during the recent Egyptian revolution there were calls to take Hosni Mubarak out "17th Century Revolution style" or that the uprising had reached a level of "CHFHO" (Chop His F**king Head Off") already. For me Peace can never mean, or be obtained by, "acceptable level of violence" nor "preparing for armed conflict." When those onboard raise hands that hold the simplest of weapons, it is no longer a "peace" flotilla but a "protest" flotilla.
Also disturbing is the distinct lack of any real dialogue regarding the discourse. Some anti-Israeli protestors have made no pretense in refusing to come to the middle ground, instead staking claim to the most extreme of fringes (spots I imagine to be crumbling drop-offs that offer little wiggle room.) Instead of coming to a place of discussion they make demands; rather than discuss they debate; rather than actually hear they listen for the opening to make the next clever retort.
I also find it disturbing how easily History is ignored and everything is framed in the context of a few decades, years, weeks, the latest rally, RIGHT NOW!
I guess it should not surprise me (even though it does) to hear such arguments from this encampment as "the only way Palestine could live is if Israel dies", "you should stop being Jewish" or that "Zionists have taken over your police, government, media culture, etc.". It is profoundly distressing to me to hear how easily anti-Semitism is tucked into anti-Israeli protests, how old anti-Jewish myths are resurrected unchallenged in the new age, how extremism is packaged and sold as the new diplomacy, how critical thinking is discarded to embrace the electricity of the newest cause, how one missile can be seen as oppression while another fired in response can be called ‘love letters’ from revolutionaries.
Please make no mistake - I think the Occupation needs to end as of yesterday, the walls between nations need to come down, the term "moral army" is an oxymoron and that the current ultra-conservative Israel government often invokes religion to justify its stream of blatant racism and needs to be called out for any human rights violations. Just as any nation guilty of such grievious acts should be. Except they are not, are they? The French government violates the rights of Muslin women by stripping them of their veils, American Islamophobia continues to run amok., British Muslims are reviled in the country’s popular culture, yet it is Israel that is singled out for this level of demonstration. Hard to ignore the implications of that..
I am reminded of one of my favorite books, Starhawk’s "The Fifth Sacred Thing" in which a post environmental disaster San Francisco resurrects itself as a true socialist haven where Peace overrides Power. So strong is this spirituality that when the military-industrial complex comes rolling into town the citizens fight back through nonviolent protest, literally laying down their lives for that ideal. I can’t help but wonder how many of today’s protestors would follow that example.
For me Boston often feels like a perpetual boiling point for civil rights. Every weekend seems to bring a new rally to The Common or Copley Square or The State House. Tea-Partiers, Immigrant Rights, Queer Rights, Labor Unions, all bump elbows in a town that is small enough to be tucked away in Manhattan’s Upper West Side. The streets and campuses here echo with the cries of the righteous, whoever that may be on any given day, to the point where the line between mainstream tolerance and indifference becomes blurred.
That being said, the current anti-Israeli sentiment around here is leaving me uneasy. Many of the tenets of protest I have lived by as a longtime activist seem to have been abandoned like yesterday’s space-saver in snow-buried Southie.
First is that over-used, least understood and much co-opted word ‘peace’. I learned my protesting from the school of Mohandas Gandhi, Alice Paul and Martin Luther King, Jr., where fighting back comes from a place of non-violence as opposed to "an acceptable level of violence", where you raised an open hand, not a clenched fist, you rose above your opponent instead of sinking down to them, you stood up rather than striking out; you disrupted the empire by sitting in, not by setting off bombs.
So it disturbs me greatly when during the recent Egyptian revolution there were calls to take Hosni Mubarak out "17th Century Revolution style" or that the uprising had reached a level of "CHFHO" (Chop His F**king Head Off") already. For me Peace can never mean, or be obtained by, "acceptable level of violence" nor "preparing for armed conflict." When those onboard raise hands that hold the simplest of weapons, it is no longer a "peace" flotilla but a "protest" flotilla.
Also disturbing is the distinct lack of any real dialogue regarding the discourse. Some anti-Israeli protestors have made no pretense in refusing to come to the middle ground, instead staking claim to the most extreme of fringes (spots I imagine to be crumbling drop-offs that offer little wiggle room.) Instead of coming to a place of discussion they make demands; rather than discuss they debate; rather than actually hear they listen for the opening to make the next clever retort.
I also find it disturbing how easily History is ignored and everything is framed in the context of a few decades, years, weeks, the latest rally, RIGHT NOW!
I guess it should not surprise me (even though it does) to hear such arguments from this encampment as "the only way Palestine could live is if Israel dies", "you should stop being Jewish" or that "Zionists have taken over your police, government, media culture, etc.". It is profoundly distressing to me to hear how easily anti-Semitism is tucked into anti-Israeli protests, how old anti-Jewish myths are resurrected unchallenged in the new age, how extremism is packaged and sold as the new diplomacy, how critical thinking is discarded to embrace the electricity of the newest cause, how one missile can be seen as oppression while another fired in response can be called ‘love letters’ from revolutionaries.
Please make no mistake - I think the Occupation needs to end as of yesterday, the walls between nations need to come down, the term "moral army" is an oxymoron and that the current ultra-conservative Israel government often invokes religion to justify its stream of blatant racism and needs to be called out for any human rights violations. Just as any nation guilty of such grievious acts should be. Except they are not, are they? The French government violates the rights of Muslin women by stripping them of their veils, American Islamophobia continues to run amok., British Muslims are reviled in the country’s popular culture, yet it is Israel that is singled out for this level of demonstration. Hard to ignore the implications of that..
I am reminded of one of my favorite books, Starhawk’s "The Fifth Sacred Thing" in which a post environmental disaster San Francisco resurrects itself as a true socialist haven where Peace overrides Power. So strong is this spirituality that when the military-industrial complex comes rolling into town the citizens fight back through nonviolent protest, literally laying down their lives for that ideal. I can’t help but wonder how many of today’s protestors would follow that example.
Sunday, February 13, 2011
Theirs versus ours: (my continuing process with so-called secular holidays)
9 Adar 1
By the "secular" calendar’s reckoning today is Sunday, Feb. 13th, the day before Valentine’s Day. I posted on that certain social network my own thoughts about the overt and gross commercialization of Love. A friend (who never fails to leave my thoughts provoked and various parts of me tickled) pointed out that V-Day is a "Christian holiday" and to remember, hel-lo, I now have my own through Judaism to enjoy.
True, true, true! But that appreciation isn’t happening in a bubble. There’s a distinct conversion context I am writing from. This being my first round on the Jewish calendar, I am going to continue to see "secular"/Christian holidays in a way I had never before - as theirs, not mine - and begin to embrace Jewish holidays/HHD as my own. (My first Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Simchat Torah and the first night of Hanukkah all remain beautiful memories and gifts unto themselves.) For me this memory-making is a shedding of old rituals to let new Jewish religious/cultural aspects fit true to my form.
As Billy Crystal says, "It’s a process."
One observation from this transitional state is not only seeing how ubiquitous Christian-based holidays are in the United States (which I believe, despite its diversity, can be incredibly theocratic) but keenly feeling their influences. I went through a hard phase back in December during Hanukkah and Christmas. This time around is not so bad, although I do feel the cloying cultural pressure to be with someone, what’s wrong with me for being single, find someone who will take you out to dinner already, who will buy you flowers and chocolates NOW, who will have sex with you RIGHT NOW?
Obviously capitalism informs the over-arching commercial imperative to please be a good citizen and buy and consume, buy and consumer but there’s no escaping the truth that this is a Christian, Saintly-named holiday. I am growing a fond appreciation that Jewish holidays have not been co-opted by Mad Ave. and I can still immerse myself in the beauty of their message as opposed to their messaging.
So I’ll just skip over tomorrow’s cut roses and boxed chocolate, thank you very much, and instead focus on my first Purim and Passover. Let the Jewish wheel continue to turn!
By the "secular" calendar’s reckoning today is Sunday, Feb. 13th, the day before Valentine’s Day. I posted on that certain social network my own thoughts about the overt and gross commercialization of Love. A friend (who never fails to leave my thoughts provoked and various parts of me tickled) pointed out that V-Day is a "Christian holiday" and to remember, hel-lo, I now have my own through Judaism to enjoy.
True, true, true! But that appreciation isn’t happening in a bubble. There’s a distinct conversion context I am writing from. This being my first round on the Jewish calendar, I am going to continue to see "secular"/Christian holidays in a way I had never before - as theirs, not mine - and begin to embrace Jewish holidays/HHD as my own. (My first Rosh Hashanah, Yom Kippur, Simchat Torah and the first night of Hanukkah all remain beautiful memories and gifts unto themselves.) For me this memory-making is a shedding of old rituals to let new Jewish religious/cultural aspects fit true to my form.
As Billy Crystal says, "It’s a process."
One observation from this transitional state is not only seeing how ubiquitous Christian-based holidays are in the United States (which I believe, despite its diversity, can be incredibly theocratic) but keenly feeling their influences. I went through a hard phase back in December during Hanukkah and Christmas. This time around is not so bad, although I do feel the cloying cultural pressure to be with someone, what’s wrong with me for being single, find someone who will take you out to dinner already, who will buy you flowers and chocolates NOW, who will have sex with you RIGHT NOW?
Obviously capitalism informs the over-arching commercial imperative to please be a good citizen and buy and consume, buy and consumer but there’s no escaping the truth that this is a Christian, Saintly-named holiday. I am growing a fond appreciation that Jewish holidays have not been co-opted by Mad Ave. and I can still immerse myself in the beauty of their message as opposed to their messaging.
So I’ll just skip over tomorrow’s cut roses and boxed chocolate, thank you very much, and instead focus on my first Purim and Passover. Let the Jewish wheel continue to turn!
Some passing thoughts from along this Judaic path
So yeah, it’s true: I’m bad at giving directions. "Fairly horrible" might be a more accurate descriptor. I tend to mix up right and left when I'm nervous and would carefully explain to you in the most well-meaning tone how to get to the local T stop by way of California.
But if I met someone just starting out along a path of Jewish (or perhaps any religious) conversation, and they asked, I would share with them these few thoughts:
1 - You’re not trying to beat anyone to the mikveh (or whatever dedication ritual ends this process for you.). I’m certain it will still be there, filled with water, when you arrive. So downshift a couple of gears and come out of the passing lane, already! There’s too much beauty, too many desert blooms, along the side of this road to hyper-focus on the finish line. (And if you’re thinking of it in terms of a finish line, you might want to ask yourself if this process is truly a journey or just a means to an end.)
2. - Likewise, respect where other people are, or where they have been, along the conversion time-line, and hopefully they will respect wherever it is you’re at in return. People will rarely, if ever, be at the same place at the same time. Why should they be? Human individuality kinda negates that sort of impossible symmetry, especially for self-driven learning experiences.
3. Does this all seem much larger than you and those things you may hold dear (e.g., - Facebook, iPods, how many cylinders are humming beneath your hood, the holiday office party, the person you rolled over to find in your bed this morning )? That’s probably a good thing. I believe that spirituality should be larger than Steve Jobs’ latest toy, Lindsay Lohan’s latest bust, yesterday’s gossip or tomorrow’s midterm. Hey, we’re talking about how we come to understand Life, The Universe and Everything. This isn’t a set of Ikea instructions. If we’re not even a little overwhelmed and awestruck by that process, then what qualifies as wonder in our lives?
4. - Talk to people. Share your thoughts, your fears, your joys. Grab a coffee and a bagel with a shmear over at Rubin's with someone from your class, hook up with a Shabbos buddy, or ask a Rabbi. (They really like and appreciate that.) This process is experiential. It goes deep and stirs up still waters. It’s supposed to shake your foundations. (See #3). These are huge, far-reaching issues that make our hearts pound and questions that capture our thoughts. I’m not sure anyone could, or should, carry these alone. Maybe you can figure out what you need to in silence but I promise, that bagel tastes better across the table from someone else.
(And, and just so you know, there are no stupid questions. Seriously. And if anyone tells you differently, go find someone else to talk to.)
5. - Finally, I truly believe we all practice our own form of religion every day (if by religion you mean a way of relating to ourselves, each other and the cosmos). (And I do.) I see Socialism as a religion and Parenting is a religion, Sex for sure, Politics, too, Academia definitely, and even, paradoxically enough, Atheism. Each claims its own set of scriptures per se, qualified (or not) leaders, a specialized lexicon and time-tested rituals, an agreed-upon code of ethics, and settings. I remember this every time someone looks at me as a converting Jew a wee bit askance.
We all have a calling down some road. May it end up taking us to where we need to go.
But if I met someone just starting out along a path of Jewish (or perhaps any religious) conversation, and they asked, I would share with them these few thoughts:
1 - You’re not trying to beat anyone to the mikveh (or whatever dedication ritual ends this process for you.). I’m certain it will still be there, filled with water, when you arrive. So downshift a couple of gears and come out of the passing lane, already! There’s too much beauty, too many desert blooms, along the side of this road to hyper-focus on the finish line. (And if you’re thinking of it in terms of a finish line, you might want to ask yourself if this process is truly a journey or just a means to an end.)
2. - Likewise, respect where other people are, or where they have been, along the conversion time-line, and hopefully they will respect wherever it is you’re at in return. People will rarely, if ever, be at the same place at the same time. Why should they be? Human individuality kinda negates that sort of impossible symmetry, especially for self-driven learning experiences.
3. Does this all seem much larger than you and those things you may hold dear (e.g., - Facebook, iPods, how many cylinders are humming beneath your hood, the holiday office party, the person you rolled over to find in your bed this morning )? That’s probably a good thing. I believe that spirituality should be larger than Steve Jobs’ latest toy, Lindsay Lohan’s latest bust, yesterday’s gossip or tomorrow’s midterm. Hey, we’re talking about how we come to understand Life, The Universe and Everything. This isn’t a set of Ikea instructions. If we’re not even a little overwhelmed and awestruck by that process, then what qualifies as wonder in our lives?
4. - Talk to people. Share your thoughts, your fears, your joys. Grab a coffee and a bagel with a shmear over at Rubin's with someone from your class, hook up with a Shabbos buddy, or ask a Rabbi. (They really like and appreciate that.) This process is experiential. It goes deep and stirs up still waters. It’s supposed to shake your foundations. (See #3). These are huge, far-reaching issues that make our hearts pound and questions that capture our thoughts. I’m not sure anyone could, or should, carry these alone. Maybe you can figure out what you need to in silence but I promise, that bagel tastes better across the table from someone else.
(And, and just so you know, there are no stupid questions. Seriously. And if anyone tells you differently, go find someone else to talk to.)
5. - Finally, I truly believe we all practice our own form of religion every day (if by religion you mean a way of relating to ourselves, each other and the cosmos). (And I do.) I see Socialism as a religion and Parenting is a religion, Sex for sure, Politics, too, Academia definitely, and even, paradoxically enough, Atheism. Each claims its own set of scriptures per se, qualified (or not) leaders, a specialized lexicon and time-tested rituals, an agreed-upon code of ethics, and settings. I remember this every time someone looks at me as a converting Jew a wee bit askance.
We all have a calling down some road. May it end up taking us to where we need to go.
Saturday, February 5, 2011
Remembering Debbie Friedman at Temple Israel, Boston
Remembering Debbie Friedman Concert at Temple Israel, Boston. Including "Water in The Well", "Miriam's Song", "Mourning into Dancing" to a most beautiful and stirring "L'chi Lach", with local cantors and singers.
The Call of Jewish Ethics
3 Adar, 5771
So Thursday night’s Intro to Judaism lesson touched upon a topic I had been waiting to delve into ever since Day One when I spotted it on my syllabus: Jewish ethics.
Does this sound dry, dull, perhaps even sleep-inducing? Not in the hands of the Temple Israel rabbi who led the class. (I am not mentioning his name only because I have not asked permission to do so yet. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t mind but I am trying to keep some blogging ethics here. Note the emerging theme) His amicable lesson, interwoven with humor, kept us all engaged.. Throughout the evening we found ourselves splashing through ideas of justice and fairness, justice versus fairness, digging up definitions of charity and mishpat and squishing some tzedakah between our toes. It was muddy and messy and fun. Were you expecting something else?
I was excited about this because Jewish ethics was one of the reasons (Reform) Judaism had called to me. Remember, I had found this path after my prior spiritual G.P.S. stopped working and I ended up lost, wandering in the desert of civilization. Not that I was on the verge of committing any grievous moral sins but I was in need of some serious course correction to turn myself around. Not just an arrow-shaped signpost either (as any and every religion offers those up in abundance) but a whole new compass, a new understanding of how to read the terrain of Life.
European-based Paganism (which, post Constantine, arguably became a socio-political underground reaction to the totalitarian dogma of rising Christianity) did not come with a lot of built-in ethics. Oh, I found some motivation to do good in the framework of karma, some earnest Scott Cunningham writings, some underlying socialist values (as found Starhawk’s beautiful and beautifully written paean "The Fifth Sacred Thing") and, of course, a definitive pro-Gaia environmental responsibility (which I still try to practice.). None of this was particularly helpful though as my know world began collapsing on itself. The fact that there was no real Pagan canon on the topic more than a few decades’ old was all the more frustrating. Steelwork wasn’t exactly getting me a job to help pay the mounting bills or simply get some food.
As for Roman Catholicism/Christianity (which, for better or worse, I will lump together here), its moral code had given justification for various relatives and friends to believe 1) I was somehow handicapped, or a pariah, as transgender, or 2) doomed to Hell for being my gender expression and sexual orientation or 3) some combination thereof. It was difficult - okay, damn impossible - to sidle up to any notion of right or wrong based on a belief system that automatically marginalized me.
Why would I have thought that Judaism offered a user-friendly, far-reaching moral consciousness, especially since I had never stepped into a synagogue or cracked open the Torah before in my life? To this day I am not sure. I think what started me thinking along those terms was how, when things started to fall apart around me, it was my Jewish friends who put deed before creed and stepped up to help, offering not just prayers but real-world and real-life actions. Now to be fair, some of my non-Jewish friends, including my BFF, who is Buddhist and possesses one of the kindest hearts I know, also helped out. And not all of my Gentile family and friends even knew the true depth of my troubles. But for many who did, their offering of copious prayers for miracles, although very appreciated, was not always practical. Personally I blame the God-dispensing-miracles mind set that leads many of us into moral cul-de-sacs, going around and around looking for any egress.
And unlike Paganism, Judaic ethics had oh, a couple of thousand years history of trial and tribulation to fall back on. Its roots run all the way back to the base of Mt. Sinai. If that covenant didn’t wed the laws to the Children of Israel then the codifying of them generations later would. These laws (arguably the inspiration for The Constitution of The United, at least in part) seemed to have remarkable staying power.
That is not a coincidence. I think one of the reasons Jewish ethics have stood the test of time, I think, is that they are based in reality in both deed and creed. They are not checkmarks to be tallied up outside the fabled pearly gates by some halo-wearing bouncer the day after you die. They also aren’t based on some metaphysical boomerang that will always return to sender. (Which, by the way, I still believe in, just not as the basis for a spiritual morality.)
Does any of this mean because they are commanded, if not inspired, by mitzvot that Jews are less prone to do wrong than anyone else? I doubt it. It doesn’t matter in the end if you represent with a Star of David, a hijab, or a crucifix - human is human is human. But I think it is difficult to discount a set of ethics which first came into being (however you want to believe that happened) before two of three major world religions even existed.
And it was upon that solid foundation (carved from Mt. Sinai, perhaps) that I instinctively knew I needed to re-plant myself upon.
Standing there still - Stephanie
So Thursday night’s Intro to Judaism lesson touched upon a topic I had been waiting to delve into ever since Day One when I spotted it on my syllabus: Jewish ethics.
Does this sound dry, dull, perhaps even sleep-inducing? Not in the hands of the Temple Israel rabbi who led the class. (I am not mentioning his name only because I have not asked permission to do so yet. I’m pretty sure he wouldn’t mind but I am trying to keep some blogging ethics here. Note the emerging theme) His amicable lesson, interwoven with humor, kept us all engaged.. Throughout the evening we found ourselves splashing through ideas of justice and fairness, justice versus fairness, digging up definitions of charity and mishpat and squishing some tzedakah between our toes. It was muddy and messy and fun. Were you expecting something else?
I was excited about this because Jewish ethics was one of the reasons (Reform) Judaism had called to me. Remember, I had found this path after my prior spiritual G.P.S. stopped working and I ended up lost, wandering in the desert of civilization. Not that I was on the verge of committing any grievous moral sins but I was in need of some serious course correction to turn myself around. Not just an arrow-shaped signpost either (as any and every religion offers those up in abundance) but a whole new compass, a new understanding of how to read the terrain of Life.
European-based Paganism (which, post Constantine, arguably became a socio-political underground reaction to the totalitarian dogma of rising Christianity) did not come with a lot of built-in ethics. Oh, I found some motivation to do good in the framework of karma, some earnest Scott Cunningham writings, some underlying socialist values (as found Starhawk’s beautiful and beautifully written paean "The Fifth Sacred Thing") and, of course, a definitive pro-Gaia environmental responsibility (which I still try to practice.). None of this was particularly helpful though as my know world began collapsing on itself. The fact that there was no real Pagan canon on the topic more than a few decades’ old was all the more frustrating. Steelwork wasn’t exactly getting me a job to help pay the mounting bills or simply get some food.
As for Roman Catholicism/Christianity (which, for better or worse, I will lump together here), its moral code had given justification for various relatives and friends to believe 1) I was somehow handicapped, or a pariah, as transgender, or 2) doomed to Hell for being my gender expression and sexual orientation or 3) some combination thereof. It was difficult - okay, damn impossible - to sidle up to any notion of right or wrong based on a belief system that automatically marginalized me.
Why would I have thought that Judaism offered a user-friendly, far-reaching moral consciousness, especially since I had never stepped into a synagogue or cracked open the Torah before in my life? To this day I am not sure. I think what started me thinking along those terms was how, when things started to fall apart around me, it was my Jewish friends who put deed before creed and stepped up to help, offering not just prayers but real-world and real-life actions. Now to be fair, some of my non-Jewish friends, including my BFF, who is Buddhist and possesses one of the kindest hearts I know, also helped out. And not all of my Gentile family and friends even knew the true depth of my troubles. But for many who did, their offering of copious prayers for miracles, although very appreciated, was not always practical. Personally I blame the God-dispensing-miracles mind set that leads many of us into moral cul-de-sacs, going around and around looking for any egress.
And unlike Paganism, Judaic ethics had oh, a couple of thousand years history of trial and tribulation to fall back on. Its roots run all the way back to the base of Mt. Sinai. If that covenant didn’t wed the laws to the Children of Israel then the codifying of them generations later would. These laws (arguably the inspiration for The Constitution of The United, at least in part) seemed to have remarkable staying power.
That is not a coincidence. I think one of the reasons Jewish ethics have stood the test of time, I think, is that they are based in reality in both deed and creed. They are not checkmarks to be tallied up outside the fabled pearly gates by some halo-wearing bouncer the day after you die. They also aren’t based on some metaphysical boomerang that will always return to sender. (Which, by the way, I still believe in, just not as the basis for a spiritual morality.)
Does any of this mean because they are commanded, if not inspired, by mitzvot that Jews are less prone to do wrong than anyone else? I doubt it. It doesn’t matter in the end if you represent with a Star of David, a hijab, or a crucifix - human is human is human. But I think it is difficult to discount a set of ethics which first came into being (however you want to believe that happened) before two of three major world religions even existed.
And it was upon that solid foundation (carved from Mt. Sinai, perhaps) that I instinctively knew I needed to re-plant myself upon.
Standing there still - Stephanie
Friday, February 4, 2011
"40 Yiddish Words You Should Know"
40 Yiddish Words You Should Know
As a native New Yorker this brings me right back to corners of Manhattan and of course Brooklyn. For me Yiddish added such spice to the local dialect and lexicon, I could not imagine a world that was not colored by its rich hues.
Shalom!
As a native New Yorker this brings me right back to corners of Manhattan and of course Brooklyn. For me Yiddish added such spice to the local dialect and lexicon, I could not imagine a world that was not colored by its rich hues.
Shalom!
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