My heart was in my throat for the first half hour as I relearned how to ice skate. It's not something I forget, but every time I feel the panic anew, the unsteady feeling beneath my feet, the fear of falling, the longing to be wearing shoes again on steady ground.
I'm not a pro in any sense, yet after going around a few times, I felt myself easing up, moving with the music, enjoying myself thinking, maybe I can do this without falling embarrassingly on my bottom.
I didn't fall once, thank G-d, but every time I witnessed someone else fall, I reminded myself to not be cocky because that could have been me.
The ones who fell almost immediately got back up and kept going, either for fear of being trampled of simply because they refused to admit defeat. We will all fall at some point in life, it is inevitable. What we must remember is to never stay down, to get back up as fast as you can, muster as much dignity as possible, and keep going.
I weaved in and out of skaters trying to avoid a collision. This is nothing like driving, I thought. I'm pretty confident on the road, and comfortable enough in the fast lane that I pass plenty of people, and get annoyed when people pass me because I'm slow. But on the ice I don't really know how to stop without slamming into a wall, so the possibly of bumping into someone in my path is pretty high. People will always get in your way, cut in front of you, try to trip you up, but you have to swerve, to avoid them, to not get tangled up and not let it distract you from your goal.
There were some pretty experienced skaters on the ice, some much younger than me. I tried to go faster, even considered doing some fancy tricks, but alas that was sure to make me fall and feel like a big idiot. So I stuck to the 'safe' route, simply skating in a circle. You won't succeed if you don't try, that may be true, but you also have to know your limits. When you first learn to swim, most often you don't do so in the deep end. You start slow in the kiddy pool. When learning a new skill, you start at the bottom and work your way up. Yes, it's often frustrating to see people far surpassing you, and wishing you could be as good as or better than them. And maybe one day you will be. But envy and self-pity will get you no where, but hard work and determination will.
If you want to be great at something, you have to give it 100%.
What I learned tonight is that skating is not for me, and I'd much rather sit it out and watch the kids have a good time.
Monday, September 21, 2015
Never Alone
I hold it/her in my hand and speak to it/her softly. Why must men use male chickens and women use female ones, I wonder. I no longer think of it as an 'it', but a shivering mass of fear. We have one thing in common, this chickie and I. We are both afraid.
I watch the blood and gore, the stench of excrement stifling, holding a paper over my mouth so as not to accidentally inhale any feathers. PETA makes a spectacle out of this every year, but I'd like to believe that there really is no suffering. That for these chickens, death is a cleansing process, a relief, that they meet their maker in peace, having served their purpose here on earth.
I hold the chicken in my hand as I swing, and I wonder where I belong. As much as this age-old ritual is for the purpose of atonement, for me it is also a family ritual. I recall years of going to kaporos the night before yom kippur in middle of the night, my brothers holding the chickens in their gloved hands and swinging it for us. I have never touched a chicken in my life until today.
But this year has been a lot about firsts for me. I earned my bachelor's degree. I will soon own my first car. I've moved cities. I took a rode trip. I held a chicken in my (gloved) hands. While some of these things may seem ordinary to some, to me it is a big deal. I am growing up. I am asserting my independence and conquering my fears.
Although I tend to be a 'loner', one of my biggest fears is being alone. Not physically. I don't mind being home alone, even enjoy the peace and quiet. But throughout everything I go though in life, I want to know that there are people I can share it with, be it friends or family or a special someone. I admit I have made foolish decisions at times, simply based on the emotion of loneliness. I do realize that it is better to be alone then to be with someone who makes you feel bad about yourself. But I also realize now that the feelings of inferiority come from within, not without. No one can make you feel anything that you don't already feel inside. Maybe their personality brings out the worst in you, but it cannot be attributed to them.
I sit on the floor with my back to the washing machine trying to get some privacy as the kids come in and out climbing over me. I am enjoying this, my new normal. I chose this. I am happy here. I chat with my father even as I hear him playing Word Whomp in the background and he denies playing a game while talking to me on the phone. We talk longer than normal, and it is nice, no tension, no pressure, no ulterior motive, just a chance to speak to my father and enjoy his company.
I get a call on the other line and see it's my mother. My father thinks she is calling me because she is worried that he doesn't want to talk to me anymore. I remember when I was younger people would ask me if I was closer with my mother or my father, and I remember thinking that was a dumb question. I am equally close with both of my parents, I have different relationships with each of them.
After I hang up with my father I call my mother and we talk for awhile. There's a comfort in hearing their voices.
Sometimes I think of G-d as a 'friend' in the sense that I have conversations with Him in my head and think we are 'good'. Then I start thinking how serious Yom Kippur is, and how holy it is and I get worried. Maybe I'm not worthy of good things, maybe I have more to atone for then I first thought.
Let's say it really is this simple: You are never alone. I am never alone. We are never alone. Sometimes I think G-d is 'out to get me'. I get mad at the way things turn out and wonder why He can't do for me what I think I need. But let's say I'm wrong. Maybe this is exactly what I need, this growing up and breaking free, this cutting my strings so I can fly. This letting go so I can move on and grow up and discover the world on my own.
It's scary, yes. I cried, I sobbed at the thought of having to buy a car by myself. The thought of going to a dealership by myself was terrifying. But then a funny thing happened and it all worked out. You might call that luck, I call it G-d's intervention.
We might think He's 'out to get us' but remember that He does know best. Remind yourself of that in a few months when everything is working out, when everything is coming together when just a few short months ago you could have sworn that your life was falling apart.
Sometimes things have to fall apart in order for good things to fall into place. Cosmic shifts. I don't know if I believe all those sappy quotes but what I do know is that I don't need you. I don't need you. I don't need you. I don't need you.
Maybe I don't believe that. There are days that I fall back into old patterns, fall back on old relationships, ones so old and covered in dust there are no good feelings to fall back on, no matter how hard I try to drudge them up. But I remind myself that it's okay, I don't need that anymore. Throw down your crutches, let go of your security blanket, ride out the storm on your own.
You are not alone.
I watch the blood and gore, the stench of excrement stifling, holding a paper over my mouth so as not to accidentally inhale any feathers. PETA makes a spectacle out of this every year, but I'd like to believe that there really is no suffering. That for these chickens, death is a cleansing process, a relief, that they meet their maker in peace, having served their purpose here on earth.
I hold the chicken in my hand as I swing, and I wonder where I belong. As much as this age-old ritual is for the purpose of atonement, for me it is also a family ritual. I recall years of going to kaporos the night before yom kippur in middle of the night, my brothers holding the chickens in their gloved hands and swinging it for us. I have never touched a chicken in my life until today.
But this year has been a lot about firsts for me. I earned my bachelor's degree. I will soon own my first car. I've moved cities. I took a rode trip. I held a chicken in my (gloved) hands. While some of these things may seem ordinary to some, to me it is a big deal. I am growing up. I am asserting my independence and conquering my fears.
Although I tend to be a 'loner', one of my biggest fears is being alone. Not physically. I don't mind being home alone, even enjoy the peace and quiet. But throughout everything I go though in life, I want to know that there are people I can share it with, be it friends or family or a special someone. I admit I have made foolish decisions at times, simply based on the emotion of loneliness. I do realize that it is better to be alone then to be with someone who makes you feel bad about yourself. But I also realize now that the feelings of inferiority come from within, not without. No one can make you feel anything that you don't already feel inside. Maybe their personality brings out the worst in you, but it cannot be attributed to them.
I sit on the floor with my back to the washing machine trying to get some privacy as the kids come in and out climbing over me. I am enjoying this, my new normal. I chose this. I am happy here. I chat with my father even as I hear him playing Word Whomp in the background and he denies playing a game while talking to me on the phone. We talk longer than normal, and it is nice, no tension, no pressure, no ulterior motive, just a chance to speak to my father and enjoy his company.
I get a call on the other line and see it's my mother. My father thinks she is calling me because she is worried that he doesn't want to talk to me anymore. I remember when I was younger people would ask me if I was closer with my mother or my father, and I remember thinking that was a dumb question. I am equally close with both of my parents, I have different relationships with each of them.
After I hang up with my father I call my mother and we talk for awhile. There's a comfort in hearing their voices.
Sometimes I think of G-d as a 'friend' in the sense that I have conversations with Him in my head and think we are 'good'. Then I start thinking how serious Yom Kippur is, and how holy it is and I get worried. Maybe I'm not worthy of good things, maybe I have more to atone for then I first thought.
Let's say it really is this simple: You are never alone. I am never alone. We are never alone. Sometimes I think G-d is 'out to get me'. I get mad at the way things turn out and wonder why He can't do for me what I think I need. But let's say I'm wrong. Maybe this is exactly what I need, this growing up and breaking free, this cutting my strings so I can fly. This letting go so I can move on and grow up and discover the world on my own.
It's scary, yes. I cried, I sobbed at the thought of having to buy a car by myself. The thought of going to a dealership by myself was terrifying. But then a funny thing happened and it all worked out. You might call that luck, I call it G-d's intervention.
We might think He's 'out to get us' but remember that He does know best. Remind yourself of that in a few months when everything is working out, when everything is coming together when just a few short months ago you could have sworn that your life was falling apart.
Sometimes things have to fall apart in order for good things to fall into place. Cosmic shifts. I don't know if I believe all those sappy quotes but what I do know is that I don't need you. I don't need you. I don't need you. I don't need you.
Maybe I don't believe that. There are days that I fall back into old patterns, fall back on old relationships, ones so old and covered in dust there are no good feelings to fall back on, no matter how hard I try to drudge them up. But I remind myself that it's okay, I don't need that anymore. Throw down your crutches, let go of your security blanket, ride out the storm on your own.
You are not alone.
Thursday, September 17, 2015
Get up and go
The rain hasn't stopped in days. They wave their hands and say, "Well, it's hurricane season, you know". No, I don't know. I barely know anything about this place, I can't turn the corner without my GPS. Each morning I step gingerly over puddles to get to my car, and each evening I must wipe my feet thoroughly before entering the house to avoid muddy footprints.
I read about the earthquake in Chile as the walls shook from claps of thunder this morning, and I truly felt like it was a day to stay in bed. I wanted to call in "Not interested in coming to work today due to the gloomy weather" but I didn't think that would fly.
I love driving. I love the freedom of being able to get in my car and drive to work, or to stores or aimlessly, to be unchained. I left my old life behind and created a new one, and I'm happy. If part of that means leaving my friends behind while I try to figure things out, then I'm sorry. Sometimes when people ask how I am I really have nothing to say.
A professor with whom I was close recommended me for a research project and I am beyond flattered. He said that I stood out from all of the hundreds of students he taught, and then he made me promise that I wouldn't get stuck here. I wanted to play dumb and ask him what's wrong being here, but I think I know.
I know, because I am terribly afraid of failure. I know, because it is so much easier to lay low, stay under the radar, take each day as it comes, live off the grid, and any other term that is meant to describe not being active, not trying, not living the way life is meant to be lived.
Before, I was like a balloon filled with air, filled so much that I was ready to burst at any second, and coming here was like making a hole and letting the air out, getting rid of the tension, being able to breathe again. It was the best thing I ever did.
I'm here because of a friend, a person with whom I hope to be friends with for a long long time. But I also know that I can't stay here forever, at least not at this job or at this level in life. Soon I must move on.
I do want to promise that I won't get stuck here. I want to make a vow to myself, that I will set goals for myself and achieve them, that I will figure out what I want to do long term and work towards getting there, that I will find my passion and go for it, that I will go back to school if I have to and never stop learning.
I want to promise future me that I will not only try but that I will succeed, that in years from now I will look back at this moment and know that it was a turning point, that I made a decision to change things and then I did.
But although I know all this to be attainable, I also know I am too scared to try, too scared of failure to do anything.
I did try. In my own way. I drove to an abandoned looking building and circled the block twice, didn't go inside. Turns out it was the wrong place so I gave up and went home.
This is comfortable, this waking up in a new place, this going to a job where I barely have to think and there isn't much for me to do and still I get paid, this having dinner be cooked for me, having everything I need at my fingertips, having new family and friends to annoy and enjoy. I love it.
And yet, I know I'm hiding from life.
I don't want to break the news to him because I know he'll be disappointed when I leave. He's so happy to have me on board, so excited to show me what his plans are for the place, how much the company will grow in the next few months, years even. We're partners again and I love that. But this is holding me back from really living. I'm just pretending right now. Laying low, taking it easy, not thinking.
I think a part of me knows that me staying is not for him, but for me. Because sometimes, it is so much easier to stay, then to get up and go.
I read about the earthquake in Chile as the walls shook from claps of thunder this morning, and I truly felt like it was a day to stay in bed. I wanted to call in "Not interested in coming to work today due to the gloomy weather" but I didn't think that would fly.
I love driving. I love the freedom of being able to get in my car and drive to work, or to stores or aimlessly, to be unchained. I left my old life behind and created a new one, and I'm happy. If part of that means leaving my friends behind while I try to figure things out, then I'm sorry. Sometimes when people ask how I am I really have nothing to say.
A professor with whom I was close recommended me for a research project and I am beyond flattered. He said that I stood out from all of the hundreds of students he taught, and then he made me promise that I wouldn't get stuck here. I wanted to play dumb and ask him what's wrong being here, but I think I know.
I know, because I am terribly afraid of failure. I know, because it is so much easier to lay low, stay under the radar, take each day as it comes, live off the grid, and any other term that is meant to describe not being active, not trying, not living the way life is meant to be lived.
Before, I was like a balloon filled with air, filled so much that I was ready to burst at any second, and coming here was like making a hole and letting the air out, getting rid of the tension, being able to breathe again. It was the best thing I ever did.
I'm here because of a friend, a person with whom I hope to be friends with for a long long time. But I also know that I can't stay here forever, at least not at this job or at this level in life. Soon I must move on.
I do want to promise that I won't get stuck here. I want to make a vow to myself, that I will set goals for myself and achieve them, that I will figure out what I want to do long term and work towards getting there, that I will find my passion and go for it, that I will go back to school if I have to and never stop learning.
I want to promise future me that I will not only try but that I will succeed, that in years from now I will look back at this moment and know that it was a turning point, that I made a decision to change things and then I did.
But although I know all this to be attainable, I also know I am too scared to try, too scared of failure to do anything.
I did try. In my own way. I drove to an abandoned looking building and circled the block twice, didn't go inside. Turns out it was the wrong place so I gave up and went home.
This is comfortable, this waking up in a new place, this going to a job where I barely have to think and there isn't much for me to do and still I get paid, this having dinner be cooked for me, having everything I need at my fingertips, having new family and friends to annoy and enjoy. I love it.
And yet, I know I'm hiding from life.
I don't want to break the news to him because I know he'll be disappointed when I leave. He's so happy to have me on board, so excited to show me what his plans are for the place, how much the company will grow in the next few months, years even. We're partners again and I love that. But this is holding me back from really living. I'm just pretending right now. Laying low, taking it easy, not thinking.
I think a part of me knows that me staying is not for him, but for me. Because sometimes, it is so much easier to stay, then to get up and go.
Sunday, September 13, 2015
Confessions from someone who's never been in love
I've never been 'in love'. I abhor the term, as it conjures up romantic chic-flicks where guy meets girl, guy falls in love with girl, guy and girl live happily ever after. Or something equally as purge.
I've come to some realizations. I used to think of relationships as 'real' or 'fake'. If a relationship ended, especially if it ended badly, I labeled it as a 'fake' and claimed it basically never existed. It was easier to look at it that way then to deal with the pain of liking someone, or someone liking me, and then those feelings disappearing. My mind would go through mental stress of 'why don't they like me' or 'what did I do' and that was what hurt me, cut me down, made me feel like I wasn't worth it. But despite those feelings, I can now acknowledge that to get to that hurt place, there must have been a 'real' relationship to begin with, at least to some extent of reality.
Here are my life's lessons:
* You learn something from every person, no matter how shitty they treat you. Years down the line you will be doing something or thinking something and suddenly remember who taught you that. You will silently thank them for adding something to your life.
* When it's done, it's done. Walk away, don't stick around for more pain.
* Be with someone who wants to be with you.
* No relationship is better than a dysfunctional one.
* Food is never the answer.
* Don't start the year with them if you can't finish it with them.
I don't believe in 'settling'. You will meet a guy, and he will be perfect for you. Not perfect. Perfect for you. Sometimes they seem so perfect on paper, or they have all the qualities you are looking for but you just can't stand them, or they make you feel bad about yourself, or every time you think of them you get jealous because of the life they are living which seems so much better than yours. Sometimes a guy can seem perfect and you really really want it to be him but you know that it is not and will never be him.
Because somewhere out there is your perfect, and if you just hold out a little longer... I know you will meet him. And all the waiting will have been worth it.
I've come to some realizations. I used to think of relationships as 'real' or 'fake'. If a relationship ended, especially if it ended badly, I labeled it as a 'fake' and claimed it basically never existed. It was easier to look at it that way then to deal with the pain of liking someone, or someone liking me, and then those feelings disappearing. My mind would go through mental stress of 'why don't they like me' or 'what did I do' and that was what hurt me, cut me down, made me feel like I wasn't worth it. But despite those feelings, I can now acknowledge that to get to that hurt place, there must have been a 'real' relationship to begin with, at least to some extent of reality.
Here are my life's lessons:
* You learn something from every person, no matter how shitty they treat you. Years down the line you will be doing something or thinking something and suddenly remember who taught you that. You will silently thank them for adding something to your life.
* When it's done, it's done. Walk away, don't stick around for more pain.
* Be with someone who wants to be with you.
* No relationship is better than a dysfunctional one.
* Food is never the answer.
* Don't start the year with them if you can't finish it with them.
I don't believe in 'settling'. You will meet a guy, and he will be perfect for you. Not perfect. Perfect for you. Sometimes they seem so perfect on paper, or they have all the qualities you are looking for but you just can't stand them, or they make you feel bad about yourself, or every time you think of them you get jealous because of the life they are living which seems so much better than yours. Sometimes a guy can seem perfect and you really really want it to be him but you know that it is not and will never be him.
Because somewhere out there is your perfect, and if you just hold out a little longer... I know you will meet him. And all the waiting will have been worth it.
Friday, September 11, 2015
So we all had burgers
We sit on bar stools at night
eating burgers
and sausages
the juice dripping down my chin
trying to keep the onions from sliding out of the bun,
thinking
THIS
this is it,
these people
this time
this place,
here I have found a home.
So we all had burgers late at night,
my third dinner
I think,
can't quite remember
it was an exhausting day
but I get to come home
to family,
not by blood
but by choice.
Tomorrow is September 11,
I think wistfully of the towers,
kinda miss seeing them
on the horizon
I see them in pictures now
and old TV shows
and once a year on the news
and media
telling us
screaming at us
begging us
to never forget.
And although it's a day
that some among us were not around for
and many cannot remember
because fourteen years have now passed,
it's a day that we cannot
will not
won't let us
forget.
So we sit up late at night
eating burgers,
complaining about the traffic jam
responsibilities
exhaustion
menial day to day conversation
that mean nothing
and everything
just an all-American burger
in an all-American land.
A celebration
dedication
commemoration
of freedom.
eating burgers
and sausages
the juice dripping down my chin
trying to keep the onions from sliding out of the bun,
thinking
THIS
this is it,
these people
this time
this place,
here I have found a home.
So we all had burgers late at night,
my third dinner
I think,
can't quite remember
it was an exhausting day
but I get to come home
to family,
not by blood
but by choice.
Tomorrow is September 11,
I think wistfully of the towers,
kinda miss seeing them
on the horizon
I see them in pictures now
and old TV shows
and once a year on the news
and media
telling us
screaming at us
begging us
to never forget.
And although it's a day
that some among us were not around for
and many cannot remember
because fourteen years have now passed,
it's a day that we cannot
will not
won't let us
forget.
So we sit up late at night
eating burgers,
complaining about the traffic jam
responsibilities
exhaustion
menial day to day conversation
that mean nothing
and everything
just an all-American burger
in an all-American land.
A celebration
dedication
commemoration
of freedom.
Wednesday, September 9, 2015
Every Day
She always used to cut her hair
really short
said she liked it better that way,
more comfortable under her shaitel.
I always had the feeling that
she didn't mean it
that she just said it
because she stopped believing she was beautiful.
She finally decided to grow it out
was excited to see how long
it would grow,
to get it cut and styled, colored.
But then she cut it all off
when the cancer came,
decided not to wait for it to fall out
in tufts.
Said she's okay with it,
she's losing weight
because she can't stomach anything
she sees that as a plus.
I watch her fumbling with her mask,
she has to wear it on the plane.
I wonder what the other passengers think,
if they're dumb enough to think they could catch her germs.
I wonder about the air she breethes
and if it's killing her slowly,
or if the cancer is doing that
all by itself.
I see her eyes
above the mask
they're smiling at me,
telling me that she is okay.
For once I want to be the one
to comfort her
and not the other way around,
tell her everything will be okay.
I lay next to her trying to sleep
the TV flickering
she asks if it's bothering me
if I can't sleep.
But her presence is comforting,
I fall asleep wishing
I could wake up next to her
every day.
really short
said she liked it better that way,
more comfortable under her shaitel.
I always had the feeling that
she didn't mean it
that she just said it
because she stopped believing she was beautiful.
She finally decided to grow it out
was excited to see how long
it would grow,
to get it cut and styled, colored.
But then she cut it all off
when the cancer came,
decided not to wait for it to fall out
in tufts.
Said she's okay with it,
she's losing weight
because she can't stomach anything
she sees that as a plus.
I watch her fumbling with her mask,
she has to wear it on the plane.
I wonder what the other passengers think,
if they're dumb enough to think they could catch her germs.
I wonder about the air she breethes
and if it's killing her slowly,
or if the cancer is doing that
all by itself.
I see her eyes
above the mask
they're smiling at me,
telling me that she is okay.
For once I want to be the one
to comfort her
and not the other way around,
tell her everything will be okay.
I lay next to her trying to sleep
the TV flickering
she asks if it's bothering me
if I can't sleep.
But her presence is comforting,
I fall asleep wishing
I could wake up next to her
every day.
Friday, September 4, 2015
Super Girl
He offered me a Hello Kitty sticker.
I told him I hated Hello Kitty, did he have anything else.
He informed me that all the other stickers were boy stickers.
Despite trying to explain to him that stickers are gender neutral and I can like a 'boy' sticker, he didn't agree.
Then he dug this from his stash:
I put it on my laptop to remind myself that no matter what the world tells me, I don't have to be a 'girl'. I can be anything I want to be.
#BreakingStereotypes
I told him I hated Hello Kitty, did he have anything else.
He informed me that all the other stickers were boy stickers.
Despite trying to explain to him that stickers are gender neutral and I can like a 'boy' sticker, he didn't agree.
Then he dug this from his stash:
#BreakingStereotypes
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