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. 

i am an avraham wannabee but i am more of a jacob

i want to walk with god. i aspire to be avraham. but in terms of the journey i am actually more of a jacob. indeed. i have lied. i have cheated. i have tried to bargain with god for my personal gains. in fact it's more like i want god to give me what i want in the way and manner i want when i want. i wrestle with god. but look at avraham. the one time he negotiates with god it's about saving a city of people from the wrath of god. but when god tells him to leave the land where he is born and raised and have a life, and later, to sacrifice his son he obeys. no questions asked. whenever god calls him he simply says, here i am. at eighty years old he undergoes circumcision because god says so. all the time he keeps his life affairs in order with integrity, respect, kindness and generosity. can i walk with god like that? i would hope and think i can but the truth of the matter is i am more of a jacob. as a unique individual i am deeply flawed and screwed. at the same time i have strong yearnings and experiences with the divine power that resides within me. i forget god quite a bit but i also have moments of remembering who and what i am and where god is. let me pray that as i steadily put in spiritual efforts and meditate regularly i would up the numbers of remembrance and shorten the intervals between forgetfulness. i know what to do to take me closer to god but in moments of choosing i often succumb to negative tendencies.

and so it is i come to accept that i am an israelite. one who wrestles with god.

forgetting is the root of suffering

i have such a new-found appreciation for what the body has been tirelessly and quietly doing for me, supporting me and holding me up. how so? with a sprained right foot i can only sit cross-legged for a short while before the discomfort becomes unbearable. i realize i take so much for granted when everything in the body work well. in another word i forget. from now on when i meditate i will first thank the body for serving me so loyally, for being such a reliable companion on my spiritual journey. without the body i can't meditate, i can't chant, i can't study scriptures, i can't be in the sweetness of my own inner self. forgetting is truly the root of suffering.

miracle hwubbies, miracle food. miracle buddies.

i'm walking through shivaa's gardens ready to rock'n roll another evening of wonderful and marvelous meditation, chanting, studying and... eating. so there i am oooh-ing and aaahhh-ing at the abundantly blooming roses and who leaps into my vision but norm's beaming, welcoming presence. of course i'm opinionated. i think my hwubby is the best of the best but i have to say norm comes in a really close second:) this is his day off and he is totally blissed out having us taking up his house for a greater part of the day. he is always happy, really happy, infectiously happy. i say, hey, what are you doing? he chuckles, i'm mowing and i'm happy. there you have it. meditation in action. he's humble too. such a great combo.

we chant amidst veils of rose scents rolling in through the windows. gives an extra lift to the vedic hymn. feel it in my voice. feel it in our one voice. 

shivaa puts me in charge of getting her garden greens into the salad bowl. i almost ruin it. i see some pretty little lavender blooms sprinkled around the lettuce leaves. i just jump to the conclusion that they are overgrown weed that got mixed up into the lettuces. so i ignore the little nudge from within that says, ask shivaa, and toss them into the food scrap tin as i break up the lettuces, dill, fennel. the refreshing scent coming off the bowl builds and builds. shivaa throws in mango chunks, instructs me to add cranberries, raisins, roasted peanuts. i say to myself, i'm doing such a good job. and i hear shivaa say, where are the thyme flowers? ooops.

here's the thing. being around generous spirits like shivaa makes it that much easier to not get sucked into the tendency to beat up myself. it helps that much more to weaken the impact of negative tendency when i am around dedicated yogis who understand that nothing takes away or add to the inner self and so accept me as i am along with all those, let's say, residual habits. an even greater thing is they care about me enough to call me in moments of forgetting and disconnecting from the inner self. case in point, i am kind of rambling on and ruth, in her clear and bright voice, kindly says, get to the point. love it. i'm truly fortunate to have buddies who are so present.

as we share our reflections on our spiritual journey we listen to each other with an open mind, laugh our hearts out and munch our way through those yummy dishes that shivaa skillfully prepared with so much sweetness and thoughtfulness. the lima bean soup is sublime. the shittake base infuses an ethereal fragrance to the earthy, creamy soup that looks like molten alabaster. it's a beauty to behold with petite peas floating, red quinoa, carrot bits. taking it straight up to the seventh heaven with an inspired move shivaa made a mint yogurt chutney. i slurp down two nice bowl-fuls besides hummus with tapernade and chunky quacamole with a touch of tangerine. it's a miracle that i could meditate after all this for no reason other than they are truly miracle food.

miracle food. miracle buddies. lucky me. inner growth, truth growth, has never been easier. and fun too. lots of yuummy fun.

sucking bone, inner self. 45 m + 33 m

it isn't until i hear the timer going ugg-ugh-ugh that it occurs to me i drop out in the midst of singing aum.

truly it's a wonderful and marvelous thing. i'm filled with this buoyancy spiced with this robust buzz in the arms, hands and fingers. i feel so safe in the strong and sturdy posture. the comfort level is way high, beyond measure. the spine is a masterfully constructed column permeating delicious lights. at one point i remember two of my all time favorite eating pleasures: sucking the tiny bit of fluid between vertebrae and joints, extracting bone marrow. in fact, i just had a great time last night sorting through a big pot of soup of lamb shanks and fresh ginger that was cooked for six hours. i guess i could call that meditation in action:)

all that choc pudding turns to suffering. 38 m + 17 m

i have to have it. yes, that was the thought that came when i was gathering food for supper and the choc tapioca pudding caught my eye.

the mind latched onto the thought, wouldn't let go. i forgot i could say no, i didn't have to act on it, i just had to watch the impulse in the thought come and go.

i knew exactly what would happen and i still went ahead and did it. o yes, the power of forgetting.

what are we doing to our kids?

i don't know how long i meditated today because i forgot to turn on the timer. why? i guess my mind is still going through after-shocks after this: i was robbed by 2 girls, claiming they have a gun, in broad daylight on a main street.

they look...just like kids.