a meditator's journal. meditating on meditation, marriage, eating, transforming from a stiffneck worrier to a spiritual warrior.
Saturday, October 1, 2011
brisket. forgiveness. happy new year.
year in year out we pray on eve of jewish new year, o yes, may we forgive. well, forgive what? forgive whom? sometimes it takes the form of brisket. i am serious. my friend prepares ten pounds of brisket before going to the evening service to usher in the new year. she takes the day off from work to do it properly. brisket is serious business, you know. twenty people's happiness on new year day are on the line. after a day's hard work she's satisfied and off she goes to the shul with her husband. she comes home all ready, willing and able to forgive anyone for anything. or so she thinks. before going to bed she attends to one more task. putting away the three huge pieces of brisket that have been left on the stovetop. to do it properly she would remove the top, wrap the pot airtight. with aluminum foil in one hand she lifts the top with the other. well, well, well, what does she see? actually, to put it more accurately, what does she not see? one third of the brisket is missing. turns out her boys gobble it up. i sure am on her side when she says, i forget all about forgiveness. her husband takes the boy aside, goes through everything about thinking about other people, consequences of one's actions, and so on and so forth. meanwhile i am listening to the story with my mouth full of sumptuous, juicy, tasty brisket. i say, mom's brisket is surely out of this world, they sure have a discerning palette. hwubby says to the father, do you think they get it? the father says, i ask them this morning, you know, your mom has to skip new year's day service this morning, goes to the store before eight and labor in the kitchen all morning, what have your learned from this? the boy says, i know i won't have anymore brisket today.
i share with my friend these words from my guru.
if the doorframe is low, bend your head and walk through it.
my friend chuckles and says, my son has indigestion, i really think it's my prayer answered. oy yoi yoi.
Drink tea. Right now, my tea is the summer chai Ayurveda way. No ginger. Nope. Pound some cardamom pods, coriander. Throw in fennel seed, cumin seed. That's it. O yes, sprinkle rose water. Not store bought. Take fresh rose petals from my garden. Pink, red, yellow. Throw them all into hot water with cardamom. Soak, covered, overnight. Squeeze. Boom. Intoxicating rose water. Sweetness of the rose goddess goes straight to heart.
A taste of Suk Wah's first novel
Jews Don't Eat Jellyfish. Or Quan Yin, Please. A modern myth. Funny, moving and relevant. Spirited Away meets Eat Drink Man Woman meets Joy Luck Club. It's Harry Potter for women. I plan to finish re-writes in 2013 and publish in 2014. I have something I want to say and I want many people to read it.