Of Secret Societies and Bureau Drawers

ears ago, there was in my town, a group of women who did self-therapy by straightening bureau drawers. I received a call from one of the members who invited me to join their ranks. I declined the offer.

For all I know, the group still exists. But it sounded kind of crackpot to me--she wouldn't give me all the details unless I agreed to join. And why anyway, would I need to join a group to straighten out my bureau drawers? I imagined that all these women had messy lives and minds. But not this woman! I thrive on order.

I needed no secret society to explain the connection between housework and resolving issues. There is nothing better for the soul than throwing the windows open wide to the fresh air and throwing one's self full force into housework: taking down cobwebs, scrubbing things with hot soapy water, polishing silver to a fine sheen, or straightening out a lingerie drawer. The smell of cleaning products, the snap of latex gloves...okay, maybe that's going a little too far, even for me...I dread housework as much as any red-blooded housewife, but I'm guessing I'm not alone in feeling vibrant and in the mode once I stop procrastinating and get cracking on a household job that needs doing.

And I'm guessing I'm also not alone in realizing that as people clean and mend, their minds are freed up for thinking about and resolving their life issues. You feel great when you look at a window so clean it looks open, even when closed, but you feel better about stuff in your life, too, once a cleaning job is complete.


The mechanical movements used in cleaning are mindless and repetitive. Your mind is free to wander and will tend to seek out and settle on outstanding problems. You scrub and run through the possible solutions to your biggest problems.

Chances are, you will keep finding things to clean until your mind comes to a state of resolve and can finally rest.

A major component in the process of cleaning house, both literally and figuratively is that it is a solitary process. It's something you do by yourself in peace and quiet. The solitude is healing, in and of itself: it's just you, the dirty object, and your cleaning supplies.

Got issues? Clean out your bureau drawers. But do it on your own.

It doesn't take a secret society, let alone a village. Just remember: you heard it here, first.

I'm Blue but Rain Came Down

oday was a bad day for me and I am tired and still fighting not to be blue. I believe that it's possible for a person to fight the blues as long as one doesn't totally give in to the feelings. So, I got on with things as though it were just another day.

I got through my errands and my Friday baking (four sourdough challohs, 3 yellow layers for the decorated cake I will make for Yitzchak's upcoming bar mitzvah, and two marble cakes for Shabbes). I made lunch and did a couple loads of laundry. I played my iPod the entire time, thinking that music might help lift my mood.

Still, I had that heavy feeling all day and it persists until now, despite my best efforts. I know that people really like it when my blog is cheery and inspiring, so I debated about just not writing today. In the end I decided to push myself to write, just as I pushed myself to do everything else that needed doing today.

When I was a teenager, I studied drama at the Pittsburgh Playhouse. We were assigned to read about the Stanislavski Method and I learned that one can act from within or from without. To act from within is to invent a background, story, motive, or secret for your character, so that a performance is informed with greater depth. To act from without is to put on an accent, wear the clothes you think the character would wear, and otherwise act like you think the character would act, in hopes that one might internalize the character's persona.

My intent today was to do all the things I do when I'm happy, calm, and content. I'm acting from without. The hope is that if I act like everything is copacetic, somehow they WILL be copacetic.

Still, I didn't neglect to act from within either. I davened a slow Mincha, concentrated on the words, and said them with lots of feeling. I davened from the heart and I asked for help.

One very good sign that things will improve is that it is raining in Israel right now. In Israel, rain is a happy event. Our agriculture and our water supply depend on lots of rain, but not too much, during the winter months. When it rains at night during the rainy season, this is one definition of what we call "gishmei bracha" or rains of blessing.

Rain at the Western Wall at night

Gishmei bracha allow a person to do all his daytime chores by falling only at night when the day's chores are done. This is the kind of rain that is ideal because it doesn't impede us from our work, but replenishes the water supply while we are at rest. All day long, the skies had threatened rain. But the weather held, even if it was a bit blustery. Only when night fell did it rain.

This is a good sign and I am taking it that way: things will look up, my blue mood will lift, and all will be well once more.

I Know What I Know (with apologies to Paul Simon)

 his morning, I stumbled bleary-eyed to the computer to read my email and found two job leads forwarded to me by Dov. I scanned the leads. One of them didn't quite fit me: they wanted someone with an academic degree.  But Dov kept telling me to ignore all the nitty-gritty details listed on these job opps and to just go ahead and send them my resume and so I did.

Not long after, I received a message from the poster of the job opportunity that had required an academic degree. The message said, "Hi Varda, its nice to meet you.Your resume is very impressing, however you didn’t write anything about your education, and since this job is in the government they have specific demands, could you please elaborate?"

There was nothing I could really do but tell her that I have no academic degree. That I am an autodidact. That the only piece of paper I had to show her was a terrific recommendation from my boss at my last full time position. In my head, I was thinking of the lyric from a Joni Mitchell song, My Old Man:

We don't need no piece of paper
From the city hall
Keeping us tied and true  

Not that we were talking about a marriage license. But I wanted to scream and protest: I'm GOOD at what I do. I don't need an academic degree or a piece of paper to prove that. My work speaks for itself.

But I didn't scream, didn't protest. No point really. It wouldn't help me get that job.

Later that morning, I had some errands to run, and I decided I needed some music to cheer me up. I wasn't depressed exactly. But I felt like I needed to work a bit to keep my spirits up. So I grabbed my iPod and plugged in my earbuds.

I put on my Paul Simon Graceland playlist and as I was nearing my first stop, the song, I Know What I Know, came on. For the first time, something in the lyrics latched onto some synapse in my brain and really resonated. It was like I'd never heard that lyric before:

She looked me over
And I guess she thought
I was all right
All right in a sort of a limited way
For an off-night
She said don't I know you
From the cinematographer's party
I said who am i
To blow against the wind
I know what I know
I'll sing what I said
We come and we go
That's a thing that I keep
In the back of my head



Wow. That was exactly like what had happened to me earlier this morning with that job.

Now that happens to me a lot. Something I hear or read will seem to be so connected to current events. And I do not believe in a random universe. That message was coming to me from on high. So I strained to listen to the rest of the song and when it was over, I clicked replay.


Just like in the song, someone had looked me over and found me limited, wanting, because I didn't have the credentials.

I know what I know! I have the talent and the know-how. But owning the qualifications weren't enough.

It didn't seem fair.

I appreciate that education is a good thing. I appreciate that education is a commitment and huge expense. But not having a degree is like not being a man: it doesn't speak to my qualifications for the job. Isn't ruling me out because I lack a university degree then, a type of discrimination?

I came to this conclusion: When we are all dead and gone, what is left is the body of the work we produced while on this earth. I stand by the work I do and feel no shame. I know what I know. And that is the thing I will keep in the back of my head.

With that resolved, I felt better. The gloom that had threatened to ruin my day lifted and the sunshine came back. There will be other opportunities. Other jobs.

I guess I just need a little nudge sometimes.

A Son's Pride

week ago, I wrote about renewing my custom of saying the afternoon prayer known as Mincha. I mentioned that I like it that my kids get to see me at prayer. I think that's a really good thing for them to see in their home.

The other day, I was davening the silent Amida prayer when the phone rang. Except for an extreme emergency, this prayer can't be interrupted for any reason. I could do nothing but ignore the repetitious ringing and hope that my son Asher, 11 years-old, who was in the next room at the time, would pick up the phone and take a message.

He came to see why I wasn't picking up the phone. I don't know what it is with kids. They never answer the phone. They can be sitting right next to the darned thing and won't pick up. That's MY job. *rolling eyes*

Anyway, Asher comes in the room and figures out by the way I'm standing and not paying attention to the phone that I am saying the silent Amida. So he picks up the phone. He says hello, listens, and then, I hear him say (in spite of my trying to concentrate on my prayers), "She can't come to the phone right now. She's davening (praying) Mincha."

It hit me: he was PROUD of me for davening mincha. Otherwise, he would have just said that I couldn't come to the phone. But he took the time to specify what it was that kept me otherwise occupied.

That was an unexpected validation of my intention to be more strict about davening Mincha: my child's pride in me for doing something good, something righteous.

Crepes for Lunch!

very morning, I am confronted by the same old problem: what to prepare for lunch, which in Israel, is our big meal of the day. There's nothing earthshaking about this. It's a universal problem. Picky kids with palates that get bored at the blink of an eye. Moms that get stuck in a food prep rut. Nope. Not new at all.

I wracked my brains and came up with...Nada. Couldn't think of a single dish that piqued my interest enough to make me want to bother to buy the associated ingredients and cook them for my kids. Feh. Lunch. Again. Blah.

What I did was force myself out the door. I thought that if I went to the local mom and pop store, maybe I'd see something there that would get the wheels of my brain turning in a "luncherly" direction.Which, in retrospect, was a very good idea.

About halfway to the store, the fog lifted from my brain. Maybe it was the cold fresh air. But BINGO! Inspiration from out of nowhere: I would make them crepes with a variety of toppings. A fun lunch.

I had most of what I needed at home: eggs, milk, flour, sweet butter. I'd just buy some chocolate bars to grate for topping, and anything else that looked like it might be good as a sweet topping for crepes. I bought some Nutella, brown sugar, and sour cream. I had good apricot preserves at home. The funny thing is that I knew they would only use the grated chocolate, and MAYBE the Nutella. I was right.

I had never ever made them crepes during the week for a lunch. I made it for us to break the Yom Kippur fast when it was just Dov and I. But as the kids grew up, they wanted to have crepes with us after the fast. It got to the point where I had to stand on my feet for four hours straight to make enough crepes to feed 12 kids plus two adults after the long 25 hour fast.

I put my foot down. We're doing bagels and lox. No more crepes. But my kids cried bitter tears and one of them, my daughter Michal said, "Wait! Make the batter and show me how to cook them and I will cook them!!"

And that is what we did for many years.

But Michal got married and then nobody was brave enough to take on the task of standing and cooking all those crepes. I persuaded them that bagels and lox was the only way to go. This has become our standard post-fast meal.

Today, it hit me: I have only four kids left at home. Why not make crepes for lunch? It may not be the healthiest lunch choice, but I knew it would give the kids joy.

Did they appreciate my efforts? You bet your sweet bippy! 16 year-old Moshe came home and when he found out there were crepes for lunch, he burst out with an unrestrained, impassioned recitation of his love for me. "I LOVE you," he said. 

Verbal expressions of love for mom from a 16 year-old?? Wowee. I should make crepes for lunch more often.

Turning the World Off

nce a week, I get to turn the world off. No cell phones, no computers, no television, and no iPods allowed for a 25 hour period.  It’s called Shabbes.

God made the world and on the seventh day He rested. He stopped and took stock of what He had done. And for thousands of years, Jews have been emulating this pattern.

We got our first computer a bit later than most, only in 2000. The world seems to have burst into a rainbow of media since that time with people now dependent on devices to manage just about every facet of their lives.

That doesn’t have to be a bad thing. Most of the time, I’m convinced it’s a wondrous thing.


That’s why it comes as a bit of a surprise to me, how much I revel in accessing NONE of my gadgets, screens, and keyboards on Shabbes.

What I do is put up my feet and READ. I read and read and read and then I read some more.

Prior to getting our first PC, I read 5-7 books a week. I have always loved to read. Well, not quite always.

It took a few years for me to really develop the knack. I was in the slow reading group in first grade. But by third grade, I was not only reading David Copperfield, I was writing short stories. I drank in words and poured them out only to take in more. The thirst never ended.

I was sorry when I saw how media came and replaced the reading habit in my life. But once a week, I get to close it all down, shut off the world and let reading back into my life. Each week, it seems like nothing short of a miracle.

I have a cooking marathon on Friday because we don’t cook on Shabbes. Then I take a luxurious, hot bath. I put on my Shabbes robe (black velour with gold piping) and light 14 candles, one for each member of my family.

Then I get in bed, close my eyes and smile at how good it feels to put my feet up. I open my eyes and reach over to the stack of books that sits in readiness on my bedside nightstand. I feel like a queen, spoiled for choice, every single week.

 Thank God for Shabbes.

My Homemade sourdough Challoh. Photo Credit: Natan Epstein

Fun is Good

I am in love with a new app. It's called Pinterest and you have to get an invite from a member to join. It's like a virtual bulletin board.

You put in a search term and you come to a page where people have "pinned" related items they have found on the web. One can also create a page or pin and repin items, and follow people but I'm not that advanced yet. I'm still playing around and learning the ropes. Right now, I'm just having a blast searching for stuff and seeing the wealth of really cool items that come up.

I joined Pinterest because one prospective employer asked if I had experience with Pinterest and Quora. I didn't even know what they were. Needless to say, I did not get that job. But the good news is that the failed interview turned me on to this new, cool toy.

Someone on one of the myriad job lists I'd joined asked if anyone on the list had Pinterest and if they'd be willing to send him an invite. Another member of the list responded onlist saying, "Sure thing. Anyone else?"

And so I bit the bullet, not really knowing what to expect.

I'm driving my Facebook friends a little crazy with my new love, posting picture after picture of amazing desserts. Cousin Nili commented, "What are you DOING?? Are you trying to KILL me??"

I'm like a kid in a candy store. I just can't help myself.

Here are some of the things I found  today:

I searched "Zoya" because my girlfriend Leora Hyman told me about this great cosmetics company and I thought I might find some interesting things to show her. I found this Matte Velvet Lacquer. I never saw matte nail polish before.

Definitely cool.

 

Source: lh3.ggpht.com via Catherine on Pinterest

Next I searched for "handwoven" because my mother, one sister, and two good friends are weavers. I found this gorgeous Kilim rug:

Source: westelm.com via Katie on Pinterest

Aren't the colors amazing?

Next I looked up "food porn" and found this:

Fresh figs with ricotta and honey

Source: leitesculinaria.com via Danielle on Pinterest

Now I was getting hungry. I decided to look up "gourmet grilled cheese" and found this:

Source: nigella.com via Velia on Pinterest

Then I decide that I wanted to find the perfect silver sandal. I entered "silver sandal" and while it may not be THE sandal, it's pretty nice...I'd take it:

Source: rstyle.me via Xiaohan on Pinterest

I decided to see what came up for "vintage" and found this fairytale creation of a shoe. It's really for a bride and so alas, not for this happily married woman, but maybe I can keep it in mind for my daughters.

Source: images.search.yahoo.com via Meagan on Pinterest

Throwing hubby a bone, I then searched for "B52 bomber" and found this neat photograph:

Source: blog.iso50.com via Caleb on Pinterest

Pinterest is a blast and I'm just getting started. Each pinned picture takes you to a related website. If it's food, for instance, you might find a recipe or a way to order the item online.

Now all that's left is to wangle an invite to Quora to find out what THAT'S all about. Check out Pinterest, you'll be glad you did. As the good Dr. Seuss said, "If you never did you should. These things are fun and fun is good."