will you give me yourself? will you come travel with me?

...Shall we stick by each other as long as we live???

Here's a quote from a conversation I had with Olga in March, 2002:

Kevin described me as being like Walt Whitman the other night in San Francisco: brilliant, caring, filled with love, isolated and alone

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Kev owns a restaurant now in San Francisco. Sometimes I miss him. And Johnae too. I don't know that Kevin's story about me, Sonnets for Strippers, ever made a big splash. My story of Aires the "dancer" with the tattoo that said in Sanskrit, "The body is but dust," never even got written....

Forgiving and Giving, OR NOT

I had a wonderfully nasty urge to post a delightfully vitriolic bit here about people's Emotional Cowardice-- how people can't be honest and loving and giving even (or especially) when they know that someone they love is in need. I mean, if your wife tells you that she loves flowers, especially on a gloomy day, then bring her some damn flowers. What does it take? How many flags need to be waved in a person's face before he opens his heart a little to someone he claims to love?

So. A few minutes ago, sitting outside and writing a letter that no one will read, I got extremely pissed at someone who doesn't bother to call, even though he KNOWS that that call would make a huge difference to me (don't worry, it's not you... and yeah, I know I could call him, or you, but at some points in life, you just wanna feel the need). And then I started thinking about the people who make excuses not to call people before Yom Kippur, even though they KNOW that the entire spiritual outlay of the coming year is (in theory) based on the repairing of last year's hurts.

And oh, did I get all self-righteous and sad and pissed. And oh, do I know that it ain't pretty to talk about such things on a fun website like Wanderingstu.com, especially if it leads to domino-effect revelations of my less-attractive personality traits/flaws. Like bitterness. Or inability to let go.

Or hypocrisy?

A week or so ago, when I first remembered that certain people hadn't even TRIED to make amends with me, I realized that there was one person in particular to whom I owed a call and an apology. So I called her immediately (see that? see how amazing and righteous I am???).

She said: "Come off it, Shim, that's old news, I'm over it."
(some people are resilient, like i said a few posts ago)

But what I DIDN'T do after that one call was apologize to all the other people who I've wronged, towards whom I know specifically that I have acted cruddy (not that there's so many). What to do? I'm gonna send an email to one of those people right now. And beyond that, I guess I'll ask you all for forgiveness RIGHT HERE, then just fall into the pile with the rest of the schleppers, who still owe me attention.

Frickin' hypocrite, me.
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by the way-- the first annual Wanderingstu Bloody Heart Award for maintaining sweetness and support in the face of extreme whining and self-deprecation goes to:

• Avraham Eliezer and Shoshana Guggenheim-Tertes
• Chana Hinda and Alan Frazin
• Jennifer Berkowitz
• Honorable Mention- Rav Natan Greenberg

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ed's note: due to the overwrought nature of the above post, the previously scheduled post entitled, "Shabbat is coming and I have nowhere to go and I am so damn lonely- Christ won't someone feel bad for me," originally slated for this afternoon, has been cancelled.

Good times at the heart of it

My roommate David Fuchs is a bassist. See him? He's been playing a little with Peh Daled, a funky Jew band from the States who are here for a few weeks. He asked if they could jam a little here at the trailer. I came home, and there was a little party going on, hookah-smoking, cake and vodka, and a steady flow of fellas drawn to the music. All-in-all, not a bad gathering at all, especially considering that one of my insecurity complexes is hanging around musicians (true story). It would probably be worse if a troupe of Cirque du Soleil performers were blowing lines off my kitchen counter--- those people are gorgeous and probably listen to cheesier music....

You might notice me wearing my cool hat that I bought in Crete years ago, on a blissful sun-drenched Mediterranean escape with Craig. I look pretty good. What, me worry?

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Here is a great grafitto from a highly-American section of Jerusalem. ("grafitti" is plural, don't ya know?)

I Can be a Bit Melodramatic

But that don't mean it ain't real. I dunno, that's how I am. Some people only talk in an undertone. Some people never laugh out loud. Some people get soup all over their chins when they eat.

Then again, some people know how to deal. But is it that they've learned how to deal, or that's just their temperament? Like sitting in a Chinese restaurant-- Whoozis is freezing cold, and Whatsisname is complaining about how damn hot it is in this place.

Me? I can be a bit melodramatic. I open wide. I let it all in. I don't filter. Or if I do filter, it's usually towards the bittersweet. Stuie-- let in more sweet!!!!!

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Learning begins again on Sunday, and the plan is (ahem) to finally get myself on a learning program that is invigorating, purposeful and realistic. The idea is that I need to find a way to totally immerse myself in learning, since that's what I'm here to do. Make love to the books.

That's the plan.
That's the plan.
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someone send me a link to a good traffic counter i can embed on this blog; my attempts to just close eyes and let go, post proudly into space, ample comments or not-- that ain't working. I'm too needy, as we know.

Esta also says:

i like the fact that Negative Creep is the name of a classic Nirvana tune. Mom writes sweet stuff. too bad she never CALLS MY TROUBLED ASS:

instead of going back to suckyville don't put so
much weight on someones feelings that you cannot
control and be happy for the time you had and stay
happy till the next happy time comes and maybe that
will be the one it's obvious that the sucky
pattern doesn't work so try a level plain some
level of happy and no sucky vibes or words MOVE ON
and get back into study and forget the past

grab onto a thought that makes you happy and think of
it whenever the negative creeps in and stop it in it's
tracks try it keep busy that works also
surround yourself with happy people also

"Alway look on the bright side of life"
try it you might like it

love mommy

Momma knows best

Esta says--

since this is the beginning of a new year, try being happy and toss those bad traits you mentioned in your blog in the ocean and don't let them creep in again and move on to a new life of positive thoughts those good traits mentioned and not so much in your head and finding fault with yourself and someone wonderful will find youhave a happy NEW year

Tikkun (A Correction)

I was unfair in one small point on the previous post.

I was not, in fact, "tossed to the wayside," as I stated, and I apologize to the one whom that sarcastic blurting-out offended.

The whole post was an indulgence of my sense of being a victim, but not a victim of a particular person, more like a victim of the Universe, nasty ol' Universe it is. The particular person in question, when pressed by me, had made a decision about our relationship from a place of difficulty and honesty. That decision is causing her pain as well, and I appreciate her ability to be strong and clear and not lead either of us to a place of deeper pain or confusion.

The record is set straight.

Great News

Three items of exciting value:

1) Hey! Reader response to my Torah on Sukkot (previous post) was so amazing (see the flood of comments), that I am encouraged to write even more, to open myself and offer my thoughts even more frequently! Stay tuned!

2) Recent surveys suggest that an increase in bitter sarcasm and lashing out at one's readers and friends does nothing to enhance the atmosphere of love and community on one's website, and may even anger and drive away friends. Nevertheless, the staff at Wanderingstu, eager to give you more of what you love, has chosen to ignore this information, and actually increase the sense of bitterness and anger on the blog. Just for you!

3) For those of you who were worried that recent developments in my romantic life posed a threat to the International "Stu Unloved" Conservation Campaign (I-SUCC: 3 years running and still going strong!), fear no more:

Luckily, after a few weeks of possibly thinking that I had met someone really wonderful and fitting, I am back in the game! A free man, praise the Lord (for He is all Love). No more having to try to learn to understand another person's way of being in the world, no more being aware of how my words and actions affect someone else. No more imagining that maybe someday I will be involved in a vital partnership in this life. Phew! Back to puttering around my trailer, skipping class, sleeping a lot, eating too much... the good stuff.

That said, if there's any fiesty young ladies out there who are eager to meet a guy who is:

• Occasionally Charming but usually Moody and Depressed
• Funny as Hell but often Offensive & Obnoxious
• Talented but Aimless & Unfocused
• Extremely Lovable but Evidently ABSOLUTELY UNKEEPABLE; (ie- unworthy of an actual long-term relationship)
• Honest and Straightforward
• (sometimes bitingly sarcastic and bitter)
• Nice, Compassionate, Conscientious, Caring (worthless qualities-- sorry, i'm working on getting rid of them)
  

-hey! if this sounds like the kind of guy with whom YOU'D like to spend a few weeks and then toss to the wayside, you know where to find me.

Happy Holidays!

To Dwell in Pleasantness

The Fabulous Festival of Sukkot begins tonite!

Here are some pictures from the first Sukkah we built at East Lake Commons in Atlanta, back in 2001. All natural, framed with long branches lashed together with ivy, not a single man-made item used in the entire structure. (The roof in this pic may not be kosher; i tried to move the bamboo around enough to keep it covered, but I'm not sure... it was a good time nonetheless.)






These last two are from a later year, when I was not there, but they give a good sense of the overall structure and atmospehere of the ELC Sukkah in all it's glory.






This year will be the sixth year of the ELC Sukkah. Paul Marquardt and Jim Lando have kept it going all these years, Baruch Hashem.






My yeshiva-mate Eitan Levy (the guy in the middle in this picture, which was on a previous post right here at The Stu) just started a blog, and my existential meanderings prompted the first post. Read on!

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My friend Caren Philips has been suffering a very very hard time. Her husband Steve, who was an amazing athlete, biking hundreds of miles through the mountains, running long-distances, bringing much joy into this world, had a terrible heart attack and is now in a persistent vegetative state. Caren has been maintaining updates on the site of her shul in Boulder.

I wrote her today, some thoughts about Sukkot. Just a flow, really, but I wanted to share.

More on Sukkot in the future. Much love.

i didn't proofread this. or reread it for logic or accuracy. it's just a friday-morning flow. hope it benefits.
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The Sukkah--- it IS about trusting God, but it is also about permanence, or its lack. the Sukkah is a temporary structure. By definition it protects you from the harsh burn of the sun. To the Greeks, the Sun was linked with Apollo, who represents truth- Emet. I don't know what us Yidden say about the sun, but i reckon the connection works by us as well.

The Sukkah protects from the harsh burn of Emet, the kind of Emet that is untempered by love. The Emet of something like-- your beloved husband is struck down mercilessly with no warning. The Sukkah a refuge from the brutality of that din.

But it is not like the safety of home. It has to be able to withstand mild winds, yes, but even a little rain gets in, and in a storm, the whole thing might go a-rollin' down into the valley.

The whole thing about Schach is that it is temporary. The Sukkah is a temporary structure. Like our lives. Like our bodies. When we are in the Sukkah we realize that all the things to which we grasp are so tenuous. They could slip away at any moment, come crashing down with the right wind.

I've been thinking a lot about the verse in Psalm 147:
Lifnei Karato, mi Ya'amod?
Before His cold, who could stand?

in some ways, God, Flinger of Ice, Blower of Frigid Snows,
is just cold cold cold. too cold for us to withstand.
and if He wanted to blast our Sukkah with an early frost (or if you were doing Sukkot in Alaska), you wouldn't stand a chance.

And yet.

And yet Sukkot is called The Chag-- THE Festival-- a time of ample joy and celebration. The Talmud describes the nightly Water Drawing at the Temple during Sukkot as wild revelries, with the great Sages doing amazing flips and gymnastics, fire-twirling, dancing, leaping into the air----

Somehow, in the midst of this radical awareness of frailty, massive joy is unleashed. The Water Drawing took place at the Temple itself, the "permanent" structure, God's sukkah. Maybe there's a clue there. WE dwell in impermanence, but the House of God is hosting a major party every night, and we are invited.

We read Psalm 27 every day, from Elul all the way through the High Holidays and Sukkot. It's got that great line-- Achat Sha'alti--- One thing I ask from God-- Let me dwell in the House of God all the days of my life, to gaze upon the pleasantness of God, and to visit His Courtyard

I think that's connected.

How to make that reality, I dunno. Meditate on it. Somehow, Hashem is both unbearable freezing cold, and desirable pleasantness. And in the Sukkah, we are reminded of both, reminded of the fact that, no matter how brutal the storm winds are, the ultimate Dwelling Place is one of No'am-- Pleasantness

challenges

how many days after Yom Kippur is it? do you remember it? do you remember praying, crying, vowing; the realigning you did way back then? do you remember how you bled for your Immortal Soul and all the stupid things your feeble body has done to deprive Her of love and light? you actually bled for the pain of your soul. right on the book. do you remember?

and then there's the trick of opening up your being to totally receive the Light of another, while simultaneously emanating your own Light, without stumbling, without fearing, purely Being, constantly grateful. just holding the space between you. holding, honoring, witnessing the life of another discrete being. Shiviti Hashem l'negdi tamid- I place God before/against me always.

or, even better,
the amazing dance of patience, slow breathing, chewing each bite thirty-seven times, pulling back your frantic ego and letting the Universe unfold before you; just smiling because you know that the opportunity to play the game is worth the price of admission.

sometimes it burns. like when you're cutting a chili pepper, and the oils get on your hand, then you touch your mouth or some other place, and after a few minutes your flesh is on fire. there's nothing you can do but smile, sip your coffee and enjoy the pain of it all. eventually it will go away, and then dinner will be served.

something like that
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this is me and my pal Lev Israel Stark. he's super! check us out (with another cute pal) at Lev's very own site, Superstarks!
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i've given up my grudge and begun calling my mother again-- someone call me! (even you, Mrs. Berkowitz)

atonement

last night, after Yom Kippur maariv (evening services), I was doing a little praying out of Likutei Tefilot, a book of prayers inspired by (of course) the work of Rebbe Nachman of Breslov, written by his disciple, Rabbi Natan (Reb Noson, not to be confused with Rav Natan, the head fo my Yeshiva). I was reading a rather emotional piece, crying out how small and feeble I was, a putrid lump, a clod of dirt... and was crying heavily. I reached a section that said something to the effect of: If I was truly aware of even a tiny bit of the thousands of myriads of misdeeds that I have committed, there would be no place on earth that would be able to contain my screams. Something like that. I wept even harder, and felt the tears spilling down my face, dripping onto the book and lectern below me.

Then suddenly the dripping felt too intense for tears. I looked down, and watched huge drops of blood splashing down from my left nostril. I had been crying so hard that my nose busted open. A small puddle was on the lectern, and two drops had splattered onto the book. I grabbed the bandanna from my pocket, and ended up smearing the blood all over the book, which is now a gory testament to the scale of my emotions this Yom Kippur.

And, yep. That's the tale for now. Huh. I've felt a little far from this blogging effort lately. I dunno if it's just me, or if it's a sense of a lack of a worshipful public, or what. Anyway, we are on break now for the next 3 weeks, which include Sukkot and Simchat Torah. I am hoping to visit some of my cousins, travel a bit up north, and spend lots of time with a certain young lady with whom I have been spending lots of time of late.

More on Yom Kippur later (no promises).