On the road again.....

You won't see a post from me for awhile, but don't worry, I'm not dropping the ball. Ken and I are going on a road trip to Vancouver. I'm looking forward to the trip. Ken likes to drive, so the time we spend together is relaxing for both of us. Plus we get to take the new car for a nice run. I'm sure it will appreciate getting a break from running up and down the San Francisco hills.


I might post from Vancouver--we're staying with Ken's brother and sister-in-law, Brent & Sharon, and I know they'll be connected. Sharon called last night to give us an update on some plans they've made and at least one will be well worth blogging. If I don't get to it there, I'll make sure to post on my return.

But for now--have a good week..........

KPIG - AM, FM, Webcast

I know, it's a bit strange to see a pig reference on my blog, but this has nothing to do with food. It's a radio station I've just found, and it's different enough in these days of all corporate all the time that I'd like to write about it.

I was drawn to the station by a bus ad--you see, advertising does work--that had, on the list of artists they played, John Prine, a favorite of mine. There were other artists I liked, so I took note of the station ID - 1510AM, and started listening this weekend.

The first music I heard was a bluegrass, country mix--something I usually only hear on KALW during their Saturday afternoon folk block. This morning's offering was just a nice mix of folk, blues, even a bit of reggae. That's what happens when real people are doing the programming they want instead of relying on a playlist.

Another plus is there seem to be few, if any, commercials. Maybe this is because this station is new to the San Francisco Bay Area radio zone. I find that new stations start out mostly commercial-free, and then pick up advertisers as they pick up listeners. But from what I can get from the info page on their website the station, run out of Freedom, California, near Santa Cruz, has been broadcasting since 2003. They have an FM outlet there, 107.5. But they seem to be picking up steam and areas--their on-the-hour station ids mention AM stations in San Luis Obispo and Petaluma. You can also listen to a webcast of the station, just go their website - www.kpig.com (what else?!)

So, either on the radio or on the web, check out "The PIG". It may be traif for the stomach, but not for the ears.

Able to Renew

I know many people wonder about the concept of Shabbat--taking one day each week to stop everything else that's going on in one's life. To take time each week to focus in prayer. I know I wonder about it, and I'm someone who follows this practice almost every week. Yesterday was one of those days that I get an inkling as to the "why."

If you read my previous post, you know that I am feeling at a loss for my spiritual center. The post ended with the possibility that this feeling was coming at the right time--a the start of Elul, the month dedicated to turning inward and finding Teshuvah, a returning to a spiritual place from which to start the new year. While I wrote those words, I don't know that I actually agreed with their message. But yesterday brought me in sync with those thoughts.

At services, I let go of one of my usual tasks during the service-giving out the honors--and really got a chance to let go of the exterior forces around me to enter that sacred space. I read Torah--a bit nervous because I had to learn a long portion at the last minute. But that forced me to chant more slowly, letting my mind and my eyes and my voice come into sync. It felt good. I was able to have a part in the kid's program, playing the role of gathering the "troops" to march into the sanctuary to help lead the ending prayers of the service--while first, of course, making sure no one needed to dedicate a new house, get married, or harvest a vineyard, as noted in this week's Torah parsha (see this text of Shoftim, the beginning of Deuteronomy Chapter 20).

And I got to connect with my community--at Kiddish, at a Welcome Home/Happy Birthday gathering, at a stand-up comedy showcase in support of a friend. These things also served as reminders of what this practice brings to me. For within this time of introspection is also the realization that I am not alone--there are others around me to help me and walk with me on the way.

So now I can truly start my month of Elul--still feeling the lows but trusting in the process--remembering what it brings to me.

Teshuvah

It's the first of Elul--a month a introspection before the Yamim Noraim--the Days of Awe--the High Holidays of Rosh HaShonah and Yom Kippur. It's a time of Teshuvah--of repentence, of returning. So it's appropriate that I return to blogging at this time. Why I've returned to this space...well, that's a post for another time and maybe on the other space. But for now, here I am.

The start of this month is not so great. The physical space of that housed many of my spiritual activities for the past 6 years is being torn down. It needs to happen to make space to build anew. But as I watch the walls rip apart, as I hear the crack of the wood and stucco breaking down, something in me breaks as well. It heralds the rough times ahead as the community goes into the wilderness, becomes homeless for two years.

With the loss of our space comes a change in how our community comes together. On Shabbat, some of us are in one place; others in another. This needs to be done to accomodate everyone's needs. And now, on some of the holidays, those of us without school age children will be separate from the families with children. This is hardest of all for me. One thing I love about our community is its inter-generational quality--a true family. Having to be apart makes me feel like part of a family whose siblings have to be split into different foster homes.

It's hard to feel so depressed on this day that should be more uplifting--the day I hear the shofar blown for the first time in this season. But ultimately, it's okay that I feel this way--it gives me a place to start my work of this month. It gives me a place to start my Teshuvah--to work on returning to a place of spiritual center--a place that should not have or need any walls......

Ode to Blogger

UPDATE: I've actually come back to this blog, so click here for the newest postings. But you can go to the other blog for May 2005 - August 2005 postings. Just remember to come back here.

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This will be my last post on this blog. I am moving Divah World to www.mdivah.blogs.com If this is your first visit here, feel free to read the earlier posts before moving on.

My first post in the new space will explain why I've moved. I'd like to devote this space to why I like Blogger, and would recommend it if you want your own blog.

When I first decided to blog, I wasn't sure about my commitment. I needed something that would be easy to use and unintimidating to set up. Blogger certainly filled those requirements. There are a lot of good page templates to choose from so you get a nice look. Someone who is a novice at all things internet would have no problem getting up and running in minutes. And, of course, there's the big bonus---it's free.

You are quickly able to blog like a pro--adding links and photos. And I found ways to use my primitive knowledge of HTML to customize my page. If I was very proficient in HTML, I don't think I would have moved. If you know HTML, you can use the full access Blogger give you to your template to get the look you want.

Unfortunately, I am somewhere in between novice and expert. So I need to go to a host that is set up to give me the flexibility I want while holding my hand a bit through the process.

But if you just want to blog and are happy with the basics, or are HTML savvy enough to change whatever you wish, I totally recommend Blogger. It's been a good home to Divah World. Who knows, if I learn enough in my HTML course in the Fall, I just might be back........

Goldie

My friend Goldie Rassen is a Holocaust survivor. She was a student in Lithuania when the Nazis came to power. She hasn't told me much of her story. She was in a concentration camp, she made it through. That's all she tells me.

Goldie and I went to a funeral today, the funeral of another survivor--my friend Beverly's mother, Erna Pinto. Erna, her late husband Erich and Goldie are survivors who all stayed close to their Jewish faith. This is not something to be taken for granted. These are people who directly experienced the worst that mankind can give. They had to have questioned the omnipotent God who allowed this to happen.

Today is Yom HaShoah, a day of Remembrance for those lost in the Holocaust. At lunch after the funeral, Goldie talked about her feelings about faith in God. Now, this is a women who goes to services almost every Shabbat. A woman to whom Judaism and its survival is paramount. But does she believe in God? Does she think that Jewish practice brings you closer to God, or God closer to you? The answer is complicated.

Goldie knows that adherence to Jewish practice is what will keep Judaism alive for the generations to come. A teacher at heart, she wants Jews to know Hebrew, to read the literature, the poetry, the teachings that Judaism has to give, both secular and sacred. But God's role in all this? Goldie pointed to the fork on the table, "So, God will see and care whether the fork used is milchig (dairy) or fleishig (meat), but God couldn't see what was happening with the Nazi's?" She shrugged.

She told me other stories of her husband, of her life after the camp--stories I won't go into here. Some stories she couldn't complete--tears got in the way.

However she feels about God, seeing my faith in Judaism gives her much joy. I've told her that I don't understand how or why I am so involved. I'm not sure where it comes from. But it's there and it pours out of me and I'm able to help others tap into the spirit. That's what Goldie sees. However she feels, she understands and appreciates what I feel. If I can give her that, I have accomplished something in life.

Yom Ha Shoah

" . . . I should like someone to remember that there once lived a person named David Berger."
David Berger in his last letter, Vilna 1941

I found this quote on the Yad Vashem website.

My friend Goldie Rassen, herself a survivor, says Kaddish - the prayer for those who are gone - every Shabbat. She stands and recites the prayer for those lost in the Holocaust, with no one left to say Kaddish for them. Lately I have realized that when she is gone, I will stand and say the Kaddish for them. It is one small way I can be sure that there is a remembrance of David Berger and all the rest.

When I look at photos like these from Hanefesh.com, the website of the National Assembly of Hebrew students, taken at the end of the Warsaw Uprising



and these taken by two SS officers of the arrivals at Auschwitz


I can't help but put myself in their places. These are my people; they are my family. I have always felt that, from the time I was a young girl. I used to wonder--would I have survived? There is no way to answer that question. All we can do now is remember, and keep the light of Judaism alive.

And so, my Yom HaShoah Yarzheit candle is lit in remembrance of those we lost and to remember that through those of us who are here, the Jewish people will survive.

Kabbalat Shabbat at Rhoda Goldman

Stuart and I led services at Rhoda Goldman Plaza this evening.

Rhoda Goldman is an assisted living apartment complex. Stuart leads a weekly yoga group; I lead a bi-monthly meditation group. We also know a lot of people who live there because they are a part of the Beth Sholom community. My friend and teacher, Goldie Rassen, has an apartment at Rhoda Goldman.

The rabbis from the Healing Center couldn't make it this evening, so we filled in. We conducted two services--one for those who are less independent and live on the fourth floor and one for the general population.

The fourth floor service was very basic--some songs, candle lighting, more songs, kiddish, motzi. It's hard to know how much is getting through to most of the residents. But you can see them respond to the tunes, even if they can't get the words. For some of them, it's just a spark of recognition in their eyes. It's a gift they give to me, seeing what my singing, my presence, can give to them.

The general service was a bit more involved, but Stuart and I had it mostly under control. We had decided what we would do and who would do what. We didn't read over the Healing Center's siddur carefully enough--they changed some of the words of the hebrew prayers---I'm not sure why--but we forged onward. We made a point to read the hebrew and had the residents then read the english together. I think many prayer leaders forget the power of the hebrew. Even if people can't understand all the words, hearing the hebrew stirs up ancient memories--concrete memories from their childhood, or just the memories that are engrained in all Jews.

Again, it was nice to be able to bring joy to people. Again, I get to give a gift and get a gift all at the same time.

Shabbat Shalom, Chag Sameach

Counting the Omer Day 2 - Gevurah b'Chesed

The second day of the counting of the Omer. Kabbalistically, using the 7 Sephirot, emanations of God, is a day of strength-gevurah-in a week of loving kindness-chesed. Yesterday evening, as this strength/loving kindness day was ending, I had a wonderful City College moment that reminded me that the little kindnesses can sometime bring the most pleasure.

I spent the day finishing my Cultural Geography paper due that evening. No stress, it flowed well and I got it done with hours to spare. As I left the house to go to school, I had a thought of checking to see if I had a dollar (either bill or in change) for the parking lot. I grabbed my jacket, thinking that between my wallet and whatever would be in my pockets or rattling around in my bag would give me what I needed. This sounds like a longer process than it was, a thought that just whisked in and out of my head.

When I got to the pay station of the parking lot, I soon realized that was a thought I should have acted upon. I did not have a dollar in my wallet or my pockets or my bag--either in bill or change. I just stood there, staring into my wallet, feeling like an idiot, wondering what I was going to do. Do I risk parking without paying? Do I park, go to the annex and buy a pen or something for the change?

That was as far as I got when I heard a honk. I looked up, and a nice-looking young man in a SUV was smiling at me, holding out his parking ticket to me. I felt overwhelmingly relieved. With a big smile myself, I took the ticket, simply said "you've done your mitvah for the day" and we both went on our ways--me to part and then to class, him to wherever his evening took him.

Now, I don't advocate not paying for parking, but it was a moment where I was just stuck, and someone saw the situation I was in and helped out. It was a kindness that I will find a way to pass on.

the medium is the MASSAGE

I found my copy of Marshall McLuhan's The Medium is the Massage and when I opened it up to a random page, here's what I read:

"Ours is a brand-new world of allatonceness. 'Time' has ceased,
'space' has vanished. We now live in a global village . . .
a simultaneous happening. We are back in acoustic space.
We have begun again to structure the primordial feeling,
the tribal emotions from which a few centuries of literacy divorced us.

We have had to shift our stress of attention from action to
reaction. We must now know in advance the consequences of
any policy or action, Since the results are experienced without
delay. Because of electric speed,we can no longer wait and
see. George Washington once remarked, 'We haven't heard
from Benj. Franklin in Paris this year. We should write
him a letter.' "

He wrote The Medium is the Massage in 1967.

If you're wondering about the title--MASSage verses MESSage--click here.

"Passenger Heiss, please report, your plane is departing....."

I dropped Ken off at the airport for his flight to Las Vegas to attend NAB--the annual convention of the National Association of Broadcasters. We got there a little late--about 1:10P for a 1:50P flight. He just called, and he did make it on the plane.

But that brought to mind something I saw or, more accurately, heard in the airports in Sydney, Auckland, and Wellington. When planes were announcing their last boarding calls, the names of the passengers who had not yet boarded are called out over the PA system. This happened not once, but two or three times. At one point I heard the announcement "Please come to the gate now so the plane can take off on time." It just seems like a nice courtesy, especially in this world of long security lines. You might miss a flight number, but you would hear your name, and could alert someone that you will be there. I have never heard that in an airport in this country. There is a last boarding call, but no names are ever announced. On the way home, while waiting in the Auckland airport, another American woman and I exchanged amazed glances on hearing these announcements, so I know I'm not alone in this perception.

In this country, it's a boon if they take you off a line when your flight time is near. I was able to go to the head of the security line in Oakland Airport recently because my flight was nearing its departure time (see my 2/18 blog entry). But coming home on that same trip people in the Phoenix airport were not allowed to do that. When they complained, they were told "you should have arrived earlier."

This is another one of those instances where we in the US can learn from what happens in other places.

The Color of Money

An appropriate post for April 15

Ken's friend John Ingles was here visiting us--another Kiwi boy. He just couldn't get a handle on the American money. You see, our US notes are pretty boring--all the same size, all the same color. In New Zealand and Australia, it's a different story.

Here's New Zealand money


And here's Australian money


Now, here's our money


See the difference?

I know there are other money matters on most minds today, and other pressing issues in the world, but with the change in the $20 bill already a reality, maybe it's time to think about taking the change a bit further......