Monday, March 5, 2012

A childfree-by-choice Orthodox woman speaks out

By Anonymous
The author studied at day school, attended yeshiva high school, spent time at a seminary in Israel, graduated from a Jewish college and works in the Jewish community. She is your average orthodox Jewish girl next door. If you wish to get in touch with her, please e-mail blog@ladymama.org 

My Non-Pregnancy Project
A childfree-by-choice Orthodox woman


"...As I creep closer to age 30, I have waited for the desire to have a child 
to take over and make me rush to the pre-natal vitamins instead of
 my BC pill....Yet, that day has not come."




“Procreation is not the only meaning of life, for then life in itself would become meaningless, and 
something which in itself is meaningless cannot be rendered meaningful merely by its perpetuation.” 
- Viktor Frankl, M.D., Ph.D., Austrian neurologist and psychiatrist, Holocaust survivor

~ ---------- ---------- ---------- ~

Before I got married I never thought about having children. I was never the type of girl to enjoy babysitting or daydream about motherhood and babies; perhaps it is because I am the youngest sibling. However, I did remember the lesson not to get married unless you felt ready for kids, as a natural possible byproduct of the union; and I was ok with that. If all of our precautions failed and I got pregnant I felt that I could rise to the occasion.

 However, as the years passed with no such incident, I started to think less about if I got pregnant and more about the why.

 The first commandment is Pru U’rvoo, to be fruitful and multiply. From a halachic standpoint, due to the potential health risks involved, women are technically NOT obligated to have children. Each time I was taught this concept in school and seminary it was always followed up with: “But, women have a natural maternal urge, so it works out.”

Yet, for years I have struggled with my role and purpose in Orthodox Judaism. I am not obligated in time bound mitzvot because I should be preoccupied with my children. I’m confounded by how has our whole purpose as Jewish women somehow got wrapped up in a commandment that we aren’t even obligated in?

 So, as the years have progressed in my nearly five years of marriage, and as I creep closer to age 30, I have waited for the desire to have a child to take over and make me rush to the pre-natal vitamins instead of my BC pill.

Yet, that day has not come. Where before I worried about not being a good mother, now I worry about even coming to the decision to become a mother.

 I think all women are raised with a certain understanding that one day they will have children. It’s the natural process of life. We grow up playing house and with our baby dolls, we joyfully sing, “first comes loves, then comes marriage, then comes the baby in the baby carriage;” these are the facts of life. So after I fell in love, got married and was faced with the next step, now through adult eyes, I realized it wasn’t as simple as the childhood song made it seem.

 When I broached the topic with my husband he responded, “I never really thought about kids honestly, I always just assumed my wife would decide and I would just join along when she felt ready.” It seems we both got married under the assumption that one day I would want kids, because that’s just what comes natural to all women, right?

 For us, we agree that having kids is the biggest decision we will ever make in our lives, even bigger than marriage. Therefore, we do not take it lightly. We do not want to ‘just do it’ on the advice that ‘it’s the greatest and hardest thing you’ll ever do” or “you can not fully understand love until you have a child” or all those other philosophical thoughts that just read to us as “misery loves company.” So for now, we continue to enjoy our lives, time together to ourselves, freedom, advancing in our careers, fulfilling our dreams, reaching our life goals and generally being happy. We both figure that one day there will be kids in the picture, but the exact when still alludes us. Some may accuse us of being selfish, but to me it is more selfish to bring another person into the world who is not 100% wanted on the off chance that "Once you hold your child everything else will seem meaningless."

 Early on in my marriage, friends and family would always automatically look at my stomach if I had not seen them in awhile. I picked up a habit of always having an alcoholic drink in my hand at such occasions. At about the 2-year marriage mark people gave up on us and left us alone. I have to admit, it was nice. Whether they thought we were having fertility issues (not that we know of), or just weren’t ready (I guess that’s pretty much true), they stopped asking, making comments and even looking! It was kind of a relief.

 In our day and age, I do not think it is fair to make women like me feel like there is something wrong with us just because we don’t have the ‘maternal instinct.’ It’s not fair to tell us were ‘over thinking’ the whole having kids thing, how can you not with such an important decision that not only impacts the rest of your life, the lives of all those around you, but most importantly the life of this innocent bystander who did not ask to be born.

 I myself wish I could ask the woman who has been married as long as, or longer than, myself who also doesn’t have kids if she is like me. Heck, I want to ask the woman who gives birth 9 months after her wedding how she came to such a monumental decision such a short time into her marriage. Of course, I do not ask because at the end of the day it is none of my business. But I would love to chat with someone like me so I don’t feel so alone in my choice and I would love to hear how and why mothers came to the decision to have a child-or do they feel like the decision was made for them by the society they live in.

 All my close married friends have one, two or more children now because, “The time was right.” So I feel like I need to maintain a “don’t ask, don’t tell” policy (hence the anonymity of this post) so as not to insult my family, in-laws, employers and the general assumption that all orthodox Jewish women want kids. For those I have told, many react with relief, “I assumed you were having trouble.” Followed by, “Wow! You are so impressively independent that you don’t give in to peer pressure!” and finally, “Is your husband ok with this?”

So we leave it alone, others try to rack their brains to understand me, and others still try to convince me to have kids. For the latter, I tell them that if it makes them happy to try they can, but it’s pretty futile. I have already gone over every argument and scenario in my mind before reaching my current disposition. Basically they all stem from the knowledge that there are no guarantees in life.

For example:

 “It will bring you and your husband so much closer”
 -From what I’ve heard, having kids, and the subsequent at least 18 years raising them, are the hardest and most trying time for a marriage. Ever hear of ‘if it aint broke, don’t fix it?’

 “Imagine all the nachas (pride) and love they will bring you!”
 -What if your kids don’t fit into your mold of the ideal child? Don’t you think basing your entire fulfillment in life on your kids is a bit too much pressure to put on them?

 “G-d doesn’t give people kids they cannot handle” (yes, I have really gotten this one)
-If that is so, why are there so many kids up for adoption?

 “Don’t you want grandkids?”
-Can you guarantee me that MY kids will have kids?

 “Who will take care of you when you’re old?”
 -Can you guarantee me that my kids will do that?

 “It is your responsibility to keep Judaism going! Don’t be your own Hitler”
-Again, can you guarantee me that MY kids will have kids or that they will follow Judaism?

 These cannot be the reason to have kids.

 Please do not misunderstand my position as disrespect. My prayers are with all those who do want kids and are suffering from infertility. And I love all the wonderful mothers I know and enjoy seeing my friend’s transition into that role in their lives. I only hope to express that not everyone should be expected to be the same. What is right for you is not necessarily right for me, and vice-versa.

 Which brings me back to the Frankl quote above. I believe G-d has a different path for everyone to find meaning in his or her life. Some have even interpreted Pru U’rvoo to mean to be fruitful in your good deeds. Not everyone will get married, not everyone will have children. True fulfillment in life is what you make of it.

 I cannot wait until the day comes when I do not have to be ashamed of my doubts, the day when I don’t have to live under the weight of the assumption that inevitably I will have kids one day. I hope that this article will enlighten our community to the fact that women can, should and do WANT to be part of an Orthodoxy where their G-d given talents are expressed both within their home and out, both when single and married, and with children or without. If we don’t support each other, who will? If not for our sake, than for our daughters and the future generations of the Jewish people, both religious and not. And that is what I’ve learned from my Non-Pregnancy Project.



Saturday, February 25, 2012

Purim Polish! "Costume" Your Nails! :)

So with Purim right around the corner, I thought I'd lighten the mood here at LadyMama ;)

This post is for all the Ladies and Mamas out there who don't plan on wearing a costume but want to get into the loud, zany and oh-so-colorful spirit of Purim! What better way than to spend some time Purim-izing your nails?! Below are some inspirations—some for the royal Purimite... and some for the more, how shall I say, over the top drunk Purimite.  Some of these look easy while others would take some serious motivation to pull off. If you end up using your nails to express your Purim spirit, send your photo to Mimi@LadyMama.org! 



P U R I M   P O L I S H !
"Costume" Your Nails :)

Source: theberry.com via Mimi on Pinterest




Source: theberry.com via Mimi on Pinterest

Source: theberry.com via Mimi on Pinterest



Source: theberry.com via Mimi on Pinterest


Source: theberry.com via Mimi on Pinterest


Source: theberry.com via Mimi on Pinterest


Source: google.com via Mimi on Pinterest

Source: google.com via Mimi on Pinterest




Source: theberry.com via Mimi on Pinterest



Source: google.com via Mimi on Pinterest



Source: google.com via Mimi on Pinterest



Source: google.com via Mimi on Pinterest



Source: google.com via Mimi on Pinterest




Source: google.com via Mimi on Pinterest



Source: google.com via Mimi on Pinterest


Wednesday, February 15, 2012

Oprah and Us: Something Found

"The world didn't see intellectual prowess and passion of 
an articulate kind. But they saw good."


Oprah and Us: Something Found 


This past week, I published my reaction to Oprah's episode on "America's Hidden Culture" featuring the lives of Chassidic (Chabad) families. I shared my strong disappointment and embarrassment from what I felt was the interviewees inarticulate, uneducated and blind-eyed portrayal of a Judaism that I deeply treasure as relevant for all mankind. I blamed the Chabad organization that was contacted to help for missing an enormous opportunity to enlighten the world.

Entitled "Oprah and Us: A Lost Opportunity," my article has had me inundated with comments and e-mails from people of all walks of life, many whom share my cringing reaction but also from those who feel that the episode indeed made the right impact. I have since had a chance to more calmly consider the deeper truth of this whole situation. I have searched for insights into both Oprah's and the general public reaction. I have looked within myself to wonder what so deeply bothered me. 

So, for all those that felt I was speaking for them in my unrest over this episode, I have more to say that can hopefully quiet our nerves and encourage a bit more mindfulness. 

I must admit that, for better or worse, I am an idealist when it comes to conveying the essence of my Judaism. Like many of my Jewish brothers and sisters who have spent time studying Judaism to make it purposeful and meaningful in our lives, I have jittery legs when it comes to giving secular Jews and the world at large a beautiful glance at our nation, our faith. While I would never attest to know it all, I certainly have made it a point in my life to have the answers to hot-button questions and know just how to reveal a nicely packaged Judaism that overflows with relevancy, intellect and inspiration. To me, Mikvah and our structure of marital intimacy is a blessing with inherent truths applicable to all mankind. To me, keeping modesty should be unavoidable to women everywhere because it is not about covering flesh but revealing our divinity and walking through life as a healthy and empowered woman. To me, my role as a wife and mother is neither a "basement" nor a "foundation," rather a force to be reckoned with

I have an itch for people to know the deeper reasons behind our seemingly archaic and whacky customs. I believe as strong and sturdy as a mountain that Judaism is relevant to every person of the world. But alas, I was not chosen to give my take, to share my fiery quest to unearth and spread Judaism's depth. Instead, the family approached was one of a more simple, gentle and quiet obedience to the same Judaism I passionately embrace. 

And yet, as much as my peers and I cringed and protested from seeing our Judaism, our Chabad, being explained from the mouths of those seemingly unprepared women—there is something undeniable about Oprah's reaction. The world's reaction. 

Our reaction as Jews who "know better" is warranted, but it's important (even just for our sanity) to take a look at how the world saw this episode. The same world who is seeing Orthodox men on TV hurl stones at women, the world who thinks Chassidic men are all abusers, the world who see Chassidic women as subservient — the world that sees us as pariahs of a cold, scared kind. This same world, who sees all our invented garbage and believes it, finally saw a warm, gentle, intimate and unafraid "Orthodox" Judaism. I've perused the reactions. In short it goes like this: "Wow, they seemed so kind" or "I didn't know this about Hasidic people" or "I wish I was raised like that" or even "I'm not scared of them anymore." Blog after blog, comment after comment, and Oprah-fan after Oprah-fan has affirmed my happily-discovered sense that, from this episode, the world saw good

They didn't see intellectual prowess and passion of an articulate kind. But they saw good

I know that Oprah did not leave Brooklyn having a deeper understanding of the relevancy of our obscure laws and customs. On one level, it can be considered a shame. But, ya know, Oprah came looking and indeed something was found. She found goodness. She found warmth. She found commitment. She saw the beauty on the faces of G-d's children who cling to his ways with a "stiff neck" and a gentle heart. She saw humble vibes instead of high horses; a friendliness that tossed away the world's impression of us as cold and uninterested. 

And most of all, she saw in "us" the ability to reach a "stranger"'s heart, despite our supposed insular and strange ways. Now that is something.  Apparently, you don't have to be cool, articulate, worldly or even all that passionate to inspire another to truth. Just one taste, one touch of authentic Judaism — no matter how much the presentation lacks — is enough to shake a false impression, pierce another's soul and embed more healthy curiosity into minds all over the world. That, my brothers and sisters, is the true strength of our people. That, my friends, makes me beam with pride. 

So, really, to the Ginsburghs I am thankful. Because however deep and true and relevant I feel my own Chassidic lens might be to Oprah and her viewers, I am indebted to you for showing the world we have a heart. A completely caught-off guard, simple, indistinct...yet totally beautiful Jewish heart. 



Tuesday, February 14, 2012

Oprah and Us: A Lost Opportunity


Her experience "breaking bread" with the Ginsburghs revealed a family that not only does not represent 
a norm even among the most insular in our community, but worse, was only capable of portraying what 
they don't have—completely neglecting to focus on the vibrancy and active pride inherent in 
most Chasidic, and certainly Chabad, families. 


OPRAH AND US: A LOST OPPORTUNITY 


After much anticipation, many of us have finally been privy to Oprah's show on "America's Hidden Culture," featuring an up-close encounter with the lives of Chassidim in Brooklyn. When word got out that Oprah visited Crown Heights and Boro Park to film for this episode, most of us were thrilled that the world's most powerful woman—a woman praised for her incessent and genuine search for the truth—was going to show the world what we're about. 

I myself was glad that her producers had specifically contacted Chabad, for whom meddling with the media is nothing new. Surely, we would get this right. Finally, the world would see the brighter, deeper, more worldly side of Chassidic life.

But having now seen footage of the episode, I, like many of my peers, am still cringing. Instead of my Jewish brothers and sisters effectively communicating anything positive and relevant about Judaism, they completely, and rather inarticulately, verified and cemented every stereotype the public has already accepted about observant Jews. 

Oprah's questions about love and marriage were answered with insecure and scripted phrases on the Jewish view. Her genuine interest in the Mikvah experience was met with the completely misguided words such as "cleanse." Her experience "breaking bread" with the Ginsburghs revealed a family that not only does not represent a norm even among the most insular in our community, but worse, was only capable of portraying what they don't have—completely neglecting to focus on the vibrancy and active pride inherent in most Chasidic, and certainly Chabad, families. 

Had someone just cruised the internet for some basic information on Chassidic way of life, completely devoid of any inner meaning and modern relevence, they wouldn't need to watch Oprah. Which is a crime, being that Oprah is celebrated as a human explorer with an uncanny ability to reveal the truth behind...well, everything. Apparently, we lost the opportunity to show the world what's truly meaningful about the way we live—why it's healthy, why it matters, why you should care.

I feel embarrassed. The entire world is talking about Orthodox Jews these days. And not in praise. How is it that, amidst that, Oprah—OPRAH!—contacted Chabad and we allowed Chassidic Judaism to be portrayed as an archaic, out of touch and blind-eyed community? Were Shluchim not contacted? What about the Chassidic role models in our community? Everyone knows that Oprah reached out to Chabad.org to aid in the episode. Perhaps had they expired every option to give Oprah educated and articulate women (of which we have a plethora!), Oprah would know why Jewish intimacy is a model for the world, instead of a whacky unexplainable custom. Perhaps she would have been moved by Judaism's compassionate view on homosexuals in our community, instead of seeing the clear denial of Jewish mothers (my response to Oprah coming soon). Perhaps she would have gleened insight into why and how women are the true champions, instead of catch-phrases that are easily mocked and taken apart. Had Oprah's visit been viewed as a tremendous once-in-a-lifetime chance to share our beautful truths, perhaps she would have walked away compltely floored at how the Chassidic mission of living and teaching a life where everything is infused with the divine can offer something for every human-being today. 

We are not the no-phones, no-dating, no-television Jews. We are not the "no" Chassidim. We are the "Yes!" Jews, saying yes to technology, yes to passion, yes to the divine world that G-d created just for us. And you know what, Oprah? What's so unique and unknown about us is that we embrace it all in a healthy, wholesome and utterly divine way that is—guess what!— one hundred percent relevent to every human being today. 

Had Oprah interviewed a strictly Mormon family, she would have walked away with the same impression: beautiful emphasis on family, living with G-d, no reliance on technology...and, oh, the values! Oprah walked away with a "realization" that the world over already knows we've spearheaded—Jews are values. She certainly already learned that much from her many interviews with Shmuely Boteach. Nothing new here. 

If Oprah was looking to uncover a mysterious and insular sec of Judaism, Chabad.org should have opted out. Period. And how awful that some amongst us agreed to give her access but couldn't uphold a respectable representation. 

How sad that Oprah encountered a Jewish community that has everything relevent to share with people of the world, and, for some reason, they couldn't give her the gift of truth, inspiration and meaning she has dedicated her life to pursue. We're sorry, Oprah. You looked in the right direction, but apparently we were too busy not looking at our phones and not touching our spouses to truly give a hoot. 



Monday, February 13, 2012

Why I Don't Have a "Hubby"



It's as if saying "husband" would hold us to a higher duty that we just, well...can't live up to. 



Why I Don't Have A "Hubby"
By Mimi Hecht 


So, what exactly is a "Hubby?"

Is it a shorter husband? A chubbier, plumper husband? Is it an extremely cute husband? Is it a pet named after your husband?

I remember being taken aback when this abbreviation for "husband" emerged from the mouths of friends and was found splattered all over peoples' Facebook statuses. Watching the new lingo take on many forms—"Hubs," "Hubster" and so on—only deepened my alarm. I wondered, why isn't anyone calling this out?  Is no one else concerned? Why couldn't women call their spouses by their honorable title? What is this need to "cutesify" and shorten the appropriate title for an esteemed role? Why are women increasingly unable to say "husband" when this noble position is so central to their lives?

Potentially worse than "Hubby" or "Hubster" is the acronym "DH." "DH" stands for "Dear Husband" and is officially a part of the Urban Dictionary. When I first saw it going around, it took me a second to decipher. I refused to believe woman had resorted to referring to their husbands with two letters. But more telling is the way this acronym gets used. In my Facebook feed alone, I see at least one daily post from friends who are actually belittling and embarrassing their husband, yet refer to him by "DH."

In case you haven't seen these, here are some examples that reflect actual FB updates.

"DH said he would do the dishes. It's now 9:00 and he's passed out on the couch. Did he think I meant tomorrow?" or "My DH says he wants a Xbox for his birthday, but I can't bring myself to support such a habit! What would you do?"

Or from the blogger at DummyHubby.com: "I know for a FACT that DH has seen what garbage cans look like, knows what their purpose is, and knows the general locations of said garbage cans in our house.  But for whatever reason, he doesn't seem to get the concept of actually USING them."

In all these examples, the wife is using "dear" as a way of excusing the belittling that follows. Like as if saying "DH" makes it okay or proves she loves him anyway. And even when the "DH" is referenced in a positive light, it's still insulting. Like, "DH bought me a diamond bangle for our anniversary! He's the best!" The wife is praising her husband, yet he doesn't deserve a respectable mention?

I couldn't see this as something inconsequential. The trend was picking up and, the more I thought about it, the more clearly I saw how it represented a bigger ill in the way we're treating our marriages.

Women today have this attitude that they are allowed to reference their husbands casually when sharing, complaining and relating. Made possible by the myriads of mom-groups and other public social outlets, this sense of entitlement is dangerous. For many women, it seems that sharing a new common term strengthens the camaraderie and opens the gates for them to let it all out. Saying "Hubby" of "DH" seems to give wives license to kvetch and publicize and overall disrespect—albeit often subtly—their spouse.

Perhaps more damaging is using "Hubby" of "DH" for the cutesy factor. I've had friends tell me they think it's sweet, endearing. But, for real people? Not only are you completely making a joke of something real, but you're using the same word that thousands of other women also use to refer to their husbands. How personal and meaningful can it really be? Moreover, what's with this need to be cutesy? Has our focus on publisizing our lives completely eroded the confidence in our marriages, to the point that we actually think saying "husband" is boring, dry...not good enough? And is this need to be "cutesy"not all too often a display of connection and confidence that may not actually exist behind the curtain? Sure, these are vast claims that surely don't apply to every "user," but its certainly something to think about.

It's as if saying "husband" would hold us to a higher duty that we just, well...can't live up to.

What well-intended woman with a dose of sensitivity can't admit that saying "Hubby" or "DH" (and certainly its usage) is making a mockery of something that demands all our sensitivity and reverence?

I mean, honestly, I would like to meet the woman that enjoys her husband calling her "wifey."

If we truly honored the divine nature of our marital unions, our sensitivity and focus wouldn't be something reserved for the bedroom. It would be reflected in all our gestures, actions—and certainly in our speech.

In fact, perhaps it begins with speech.

When I was twenty, I asked Manis Friedman how I can tell if a man, a potential suitor, truly honors and respects marriage. He answered simply, "It's in the way he talks." Does he say things like "his woman" when referring to someone's wife? Does he laugh at marriage jokes? Propagate stereotypes? In essence, Rabbi Friedman was telling me that if someone is casual about marriage in the way they talk, in the way they actually reference marriage, then it's likely that they lack the appropriate awe and reverence it requires.

As a writer, I couldn't agree more. I am sensitive to how words not only communicate a concept but actually contribute to a state of mind. I beseech women everywhere to consider the effects of their language when speaking of their husbands. It's the difference between respect and belittling; between casualness and importance; essentially between care and disregard.

On the eve of Valentines Day, when the world celebrates "love" with roses and chocolates, let's bring back the respect. With marriage getting bashed and humiliated at every turn today, it's all the more critical for us to be committed to its preservation. We can turn back the hand, starting with our speech. Call your husband what he is. Use his name. Have a little respect for a relationship that is more important than your pet. Start building up your marriage and the sanctity within it, right down to your words. Because if we don't start there, if we allow our very speech to minimize our spouse, how can we possibly say we're giving our marriage all that we've got?


Thursday, February 2, 2012

Thought to Light By February 3rd 2012

This week's candle-lighting meditation. I write them every week for FridayLight


If you're human, chances are you've had a run in with jealousy. Maybe you're even challenged with it every day. Thankfully, we have Shabbat as a time to try and relish all that we have. Whether it's some peace and quiet, the company of family and friends or even just the roof over our heads, Shabbat says "The glass is half full." Light your candles and actually verbalize that you are happy and thankful for the lot you've been given. Jealousy is human, but sparking a flame is a wonderful chance to rise above. And oh, how good it feels!





Monday, January 30, 2012

Momming with Mimi: My Catharsis

"Even my small efforts in a certain direction seem to 
put me right back at my lame starting point. "

MY CATHARSIS 


ca·thar·sis/kəˈTHärsis/

Noun:
  1. The process of releasing, and thereby providing relief from, strong or repressed emotions.



A lot has happened since I began my unplanned hiatus from LadyMama just under two months ago. There was Chanukah, the New Year, assisting the gorgeous birth of my latest nephew and a plethora of news and events that any normal blogger would have addressed — like Matisyahu shaving his beard.

And yet, I was MIA. 

Essentially, I had to take a break from blogging because I couldn't face my readers when it was myself that needed a pep-talk. Sure, blogging has usually been a tremendously effective outlet to regain my composure and move on, but well, I guess it was just that bad! 

So let me do a little talking out loud—some discoveries, if you will—so I can let it out and move on! 

I AM LAZY AND NON-COMMITTAL
So here's the truth, people. I wake up grumpy, loving my kids... but not the time they rise. I get dressed lethargically, often hating the clothing I get dressed in...and the body I dress. I eat a standard breakfast that, well, let's just say is nothing like the sugar-free or fruit-inspired meals I deeply wish I could commit to. Having succumbed to bad habits such as mental complaining and cereal cravings before it's even nine o'clock, I have no option to fall prey to my negative notion that all else today will be doomed. 

So even though I get myself together enough to proceed with my work duties for FridayLight, I constantly feel like I start the day on a bad foot. And by the end of the day, thats two exhausted feet and a disappointed failure of a person. 


I IGNORE MY POTENTIAL
The deeper black hole adding to this embarrassing way to live is that I feel like I have an enormous potential to be a very powerful, inspiring, alive and happy person. I know this is true, because I have been there. I am a unique person with incredible talents. There I said it. Ugh, I just had to go and say it. You see, it's so much easier to ignore it. That way I don't have to answer my soul's call, don't have to actually step in the direction of my dreams. I mean, there's so much I want to do. Like author a book. Or two! And meanwhile, I can't even get my weekly column together. Even my small efforts in a certain direction seem to put me right back at my lame starting point. 


I AM A SPIRITUAL DESERT                                           
  I think the last time I made a real active effort to nourish my soul and grow as a Jewish woman was over 5 years ago, learning in Israel. Which was actually the same place that spent a lot of time trying to get us to believe that marriage and motherhood were going to offer enormous wellsprings of connection, inspiration and growth. Ya. Right. Listen here. I love my husband and my children are a gift. I even love my work. But my soul? My soul is dry. It still speaks to me a lot and knows its direction. It still gets moments of inspiration and even tears when reading or watching something true. It's still serves as a good compass. But it is too hushed by it's owner's complaints, laziness, responsibilities and a good dose of procrastination to ever truly sing it's song. I've felt this way for too long now, and yet I was finding the time to blog? I seem to always choose instant gratification over climbing a ladder. Go figure.
I'M REALLY NOT THAT COOL (YET)
Adding salt to the wound is living so publicly, thanks to my blog, my Facebook page and so on. Because of various projects and articles I don't even care to mention, a lot of people know my name. For some crazy reason, I have 63 subscribers on Facebook — and they are all strangers to me. I constantly get messages and e-mails praising my Facebook groups or something I have published. But I find these efforts only a small percentage of what I really could and should be doing! Yet everyone falls for this image, settles for the second-best Mimi. 

When I run into someone who compliments me for being so busy and involved and how do I find the time and yadda yadda...I smile and say "Thank you." 

But I really want to scream, "Girl, trust me, I am sooooo paaaatheeetic!"

==========

So once I went a few days without posting, it turned into weeks and, well, it started to feel kind of good. You know, some time to examine who I am, what my strengths and weaknesses are, what I really have to communicate to myself, my family and my readers. Some time off from seeing life through the lens of LadyMama.


THE ROAD AHEAD
Even though I am back, I am admitting that not much has changed. I had Life cereal for breakfast this morning (how ironic). I have not taken up yoga. I woke up crusty-eyed with mental complaining. The mumbling of morning blessings was a lousy excuse for prayer. I stil feel like I am a powerless, pathetic person unable to conquer almost anything I deeply want to commit to. But, alas, abandoning my blog and the beauty of sharing and connecting with other women, is one thing I can no longer tolerate on the list. Thankfully, I live in a world where most women are brave enough to embrace an honest outlook on being a mother, with all the wins and losses of being human. And even if all my complaining does nothing to inspire another, it certainly acts as a friend to the women out there experiencing the kind of minset I clearly struggle with. So I plan on continuing to share this challenge, my successes and failures, and step-by-step make the kind of decisions that will enable me to be the powerful, or even just good, person I know I am. 

LIFE IS A BLESSING 
I want to close this post with a mediocre effort at being positive and grateful :) 

Thank you G-d for making me who I am and giving me the beautiful life and family that I promise to work harder to celebrate! Thank you to my amazing husband who is a constant beam of appreciation and positive thinking! Thank you to my children who, beyond being well-behaved and absolutely edible, are teaching me what it means to be a good person. Thank you to my mother who I can be open with, kvetch and always take away some inspiration and solutions. Thank you to my sister and sister-in-laws who let me complain to an embarrassing point, don't judge and make it possible to laugh at it all off! Thank you Melda, my cleaning lady/nanny who lovingly helps with the baby and the house and is my sanity in life. Thank you to all my friends and readers who asked me to get my tush back here and even encouraged my good dose of complaining. 

I know my self-affirmations above were not 
exactly motivating, but I will turn them around 
in due time. Meanwhile, it's good to be back!