BRINGING THE DEAD SEA BACK TO LIFE AGAIN

Traveling to a place where we can rejoice in the Independence Day of Israel, the creation of a country that is The Promised Land, a country we can call our own, a country with a strong army: The IDF. To celebrate after we had the mournfulness of Holocaust Memorial Day, as we count the Omer during a time of year when we mourn the deaths of the 6 million, our grandparents and cousins, all senselessly destroyed by ignorance and hatred.

To feel the loss, to feel the destruction of all our society with the loss of our people, our families. To mourn without the same feeling of hatred that the Nazis tried to permeate, to put an end to this hatred, to wash it away in water, to bond all people together in peace and love for one's neighbor and in this way to put an end to Hitler's hatred forever, so it never can resurface, to drown this hatred in a sea of tears, and to then use the water to joyously water our flower gardens.

To celebrate with happiness the Israel Independence Day when rockets shoot into the sky to cause beauty instead of destruction.

Finding a green sea or a blue ocean where there are billions of tears that created the waters and to turn these seas into the comforts of a bubble bath, to feel each drop of sea water as another tear that G-d has shed for the 6 million innocent victims of the mass hatred of the Holocaust, and then to splash in these waters with the joyousness of the Independence Day of Israel that now defends us.

To feel the power in the sea as each wave hits the shore with a force, a force like as the power in Einstein's theory that could become the force of an atom bomb, used for or against us, depending on whose hands in which it befalls, and not to leave this to chance.

Singing for the sea waters to use the tearful mournfulness to bring a closure to hatred, to create a state of peace, to have seriousness in our moods as we Count the Omer, to vow to never allow destruction like that of the Holocaust to be a repeat.

To use the holy song of the Cantor loudly to call upon G-d to bring us peace, and quietly as the whispering sound in the brushing of each sea wave upon the shore, that binds our wounds and heals them, to clean ourselves and achieve a state of righteousness and happiness for the creation of The State of Israel, The Promised Land.

LIVING IN A SANDCASTLE AS HOME

Sitting on a sandy seashore, watching each wave roll in one by one at your feet, each wave being like the mighty arm and hand of G-d stretching out of His body that is the sea and reaching out to you, to touch you, to heal you, to caress you with 100% natural mikvah waters, the waters of the Split Red Sea, wanting you to recognize these waves as G-d's nurturing hands that come one by one eternally, again and again, to use them as the evidence you need to feel the love of G-d, the existence of G-d, in a large body of sea water, not to ever forget the Ten Plagues or the staff of Moses that G-d turned into a snake, to feel in these water waves the incredible power, a healing power of the Almighty G-d Himself, as the purity of the waters to wash away all your transgressions, soak you in a sea of forgiveness and renew you, give you a rebirth like that of a newborn babe, to jump and play in the sand like a toddler, to build sandcastles and to call them your home.

To be at the sea everyday, to walk in and out of your sandcastle, dipping your feet in fresh waters, new waters everyday, not one day the same as the last, always something new to see, new to smell, new to feel, to feel the graininess of each molecule of sand as it scratches away the calluses on your feet, smoothing the soles of your feet and toes, tickling your feet with the love of G-d, to not need shoes, to be barefoot and naked, to be seen only by the fish.

Traveling up and down the steps of your sandcastle, leaping from tower to tower, being like Rapunzel and letting down your locks of hair from the windows, locks of hair blowing in a sea breeze.

Kicking the sandcastle sand and like a House of Cards watching it all fall down to be built up again in a different architectural design, another castle to call your home.

Washing your hands clean of all gritty sand, and splashing mikvah waters on every part of your skin, to not have a sandcastle to call home, instead like as a fish, diving into the large body of water and as a diver calling the water, the deep sea, your one and only home.

To go home again and again, everyday, each day as you go to the sandy seashore, to go there to a home with the fish, a home that is all yours, a step out of doors, to splash and to swim, to soak up sun, as your out of doors becomes your indoors.

The put an end to homelessness, as the sacred sea becomes a place for you to call your very own home, as like Jonah you rock about and then are thrown out of the body of a fish, to land atop an island that becomes yours, an island surrounded by the seas and fed by the fish.

Turning nothing into something, and something into everything.

Having it all!

AS FREE AS THE BIRDS!

Sitting on  the dock of the bay, letting the waves roll away, seashells floating on the water and crunching under your tongs, polished stones of billions of years in age, stones everywhere with smoothed edges.

Seagulls flying in flocks and singularly, with and without their mates, white fuzz on their skin, small feathers, with a band of silver around their necks, cawing and screeching, they are reincarnated Levites, diving with gracefulness and forcefulness into the water to pick out a fish for their breakfast, blocking the sunlight from your eyes with their large wingspan as they fly over your head.

Robins with red breasts picking out worms from the soil, seeing a Robin is a first sign of Spring, watching them bounce around the ground as they do an Irish gig, flying then to their nests where their babies await them to be fed.

Red Cardinals taking the cake as the birds with the most color, red brilliance in the males flying with their more humble females with the color of their red feathers being of a lesser potency. Cardinals with crowns atop their heads, royal birds, birds wearing feathers like red Indians in hats that increase their height. Cardinals who enjoy sunflower seeds as their snacks, breaking the hard outer shell with their strong beaks, tossing out the chaff, stomping around and eating more.

A day at the beach with the birds, having flocks of birds all around you, flying in your thoughts as the birds physically fly around you, sweeping you up in their pursuit of freedom, as free as the birds!

The great sage Hillel directs, ``Love the creatures and draw them close to Torah.''

THE COMFORTS OF SEA BATHING

Dead sea salts, overflowing waters, coolness, a spray of mist of greenish bluish sea water, a taste in your mouth of freshness, a minty flow of gushing and sprinkling, a body cleanse, a feeling of soapiness, a regular flow of tide waters upon your feet, in between your toes, not a dry feeling, a wet moisturized state of hydration.

Licking the wetness off your lips, saturated from head to toe, water dripping from your hair, wetness on the head and surrounding, enveloping, encompassing. Splashed on the face!

Sweetness of saturation, like sugary water droplets, like lemony lotions massaged into the hands. A beaver washing your hands again and again in the foam.

Wiping your wetted eyes dry so you can see, Emerald greenness of seas into the distance forming a linear horizon smeared between the sky and the sea in a fog.

Dense watery air closing in on you like a cloud hovering, being in a camouflage of protection. Paddling, not kicking, instead drifting, easily easing, floating in with the tide.

Floating in perfect harmony with nature, flowing in and flowing out, set safely upon shallow waters like a shellfish swimming, guided securely into his shell.

Being soothed with the comforts of sea bathing.

RESTING ON THE BEACH

Resting, closing one's eyes, resting and teaching another how to rest, praying for someone to get their rest, closing one's eyes in snatches as you work and being then in prayer to the One Almighty G-d of Abraham and Sarah, Who is everyone's G-d, although some are not willing to pray to Him, but as I rest and as she rests, He gets all our prayers as we petition Him to answer our prayers, to get the so needed rest we need to continue our good work.

Being propped up with my back against a concrete water breaker wall that split the Red Seas, stretching my legs out from under me, resting and feeling the peace of the waters, as I rest being in prayer to G-d for her to rest too as she works. Closing my eyes in rest and feeling her too closing her eyes at the same time although she is miles away, I can feel her getting rest, as each wave brushes softly peacefully upon the shore, rhythmically swaying a baby's cradle back and forth, the baby's eyes are closed, and this rested baby sleeps as her cradle rocks. We sing a lullaby to this baby in Hebrew words, a baby who is guarded in her sleep by the One Almighty G-d of Abraham and Sarah, a baby with a Guardian Angel, a baby who is an Angel herself, a baby who is grown, is an adult, but with the same needs as when she was young, rocking this baby to sleep in song with her eyes closed.

The water tide has come in and is there on the shore near to my feet, wave after wave, splashing onto my legs, cooling me off, refreshing me after my afternoon nap. Swiping the water up in the cup of my hands, natural waters, mikvah waters scooped up and patted onto my face, waters that put me to sleep now wake me up.

Stretching my legs and walking now away from the beach, she has slept and I have slept too. Her needs were met and my needs were met, equally, mutually, side by side, and now we have the strength to do our work and will soon to be resting again.

THE MIRACLE OF THE LAKE MICHIGAN BEACHES

A public invitation to come to the beach! To invite all who read this article to feel the happiness of being at a lake, a Great Lake Michigan, and to feel the warmth of the sunshine with the contrast of the coolness of the waters.

To jump up and avoid a lake water wave that comes rolling in! To have the time of your life and to feel the freshness, to smell the algae and life at the beach, to crunch on polished stones and small seashells beneath your feet.

To be at a place at the beach where there also is a public park, to enjoy seeing small children on swings, swinging back and forth and being in laughter with glee. Lounging on park benches and inhaling it all in, listening to the waters rhythmical music and the songs of the kids.

To be on a walking path with pet dogs on leashes passing you by. Dogs who then jump into the wet water and then shake it all off. To be sprinkled by a shaking dog! To see him feeling good in his cleanness upon his fur, to know he loves the water too.

The beach! A place to relax, a place to have joy. At night a place to see a sunset and a pink glow over all the water. A place to hear the steady regular sound of waves brushing up in a beat like the successive strumming of a guitar. A place to sync in your heartbeat, a place to be at one with nature.

To feel the awe at the beach of G-d's creations, and to feel its greatness. To be in awe day after day, to be overwhelmed with these miracles of G-d's year after year. To have this right outside your front door. To always be at oneness with the miracles that G-d provides for us.

THE SERENITY OF SLEEPING ON THE BEACH

Splashed. Submerged. Water, water, everywhere, kicking the waves as they roll on in, seeing sand circulating in each water wave being stirred up, Supreme Court nominees on our side, water purer than ever before, storms that are approaching unite the tohu with the bohu, steam to be rising from the lake on hot summer months, cooling down after a dip.

Mikvah waters, natural waters, a way to replenish, to clean off dirt, to find a reason to smile again, waters all around your body, waters in your body no dehydration, filled, floating not drowning, same waters everyday, same tides coming in, a lake that lives, fish swimming and seagulls diving.

Children's playground in the beach park, kids swinging on swings, dancing beneath Gingko trees with leaves like fans, sliding down slides, laughter and singing. Children of diverse backgrounds all playing together, mothers and fathers enjoying the joyousness of their children, their differences and similarities, feeling in good health, good cheer.

Birthday parties to celebrate, children getting older becoming adults, balloons that fly freely in a rainbow of colors, eating ice cream at the beach, buying a bar from a vendor's cart, sitting beneath sun umbrellas, getting sandy all over, clear waters wishfully washing it all away.

Springtime, summertime, time at the beach, time in the lake waters, time to go fishing, boating, sunning yourself and tanning your body a beige color. Absorbing vitamin D from the sunlight, having a good joyous mood from all the lightness, a warm feeling on the skin, soothingly, breathing easy.

Being rocked to sleep with a lullaby sung by the lake waters, as each wave says "hush" like as we pray the Shema with a quiet peaceful SH sound, and we fall asleep under a new Rosh Chodesh moon, on a beach blanket, rocked back and forth in a boat as in a cradle, a rocking chair, smoothness and serenity.

Hushing yourself to sleep, and dreaming of more vacations at the beach.

PEACE AND THE GREENNESS OF THE RIVERS ON ST. PATRICK'S DAY

Greenness, the color of lake waves a khaki green, green sea waves rolling in on a sandy seashore algae strewn covered with living organisms, a living sea with fish, waves picking up and rolling sand as it brushes up and cracks upon the shore.

Army green like khaki green, a fight to the finish, a soldier, a homeless vet.

Greenness on St. Pat's Day of March 17th, called "The wearing of the green." Uniting peoples, taking the color green and wearing it upon your body, feeling the growth of springtime, coloring your hamentaschen Purim cookie bread dough a green color, not to be assimilated, but to be friendly and to love your neighbor.

Greenness upon newly born fruit trees, plants that excrete and breathe out oxygen, new buds, lots of lettuce to feed the poor, gardens and bunnies nibbling at leaves, Monarch butterflies like symbols of G-d as they stretch their royal black and orange colored wings, flying freely, landing on green leaves, finding a place to rest.

Not to claim greenness as a symbol of what is yours and not theirs, sharing green, sharing lettuce leaves, the feeding of all the poor, eating a full leafy green salad, coloring the river green, singing and laughing, enjoying a holiday too, enjoying the uniting of the color green with the color blue, darker colors of green like sage green.

To study the sages, to be wise like a sage, to be agreeable and to enjoy the color green and to like the color sage green. To listen to our sages who taught us to keep the peace, to worship one holy G-d, to know that our one almighty G-d of Abraham and Sarah created the color green.

BE HAPPY IT'S THE MONTH OF ADAR II

On Rosh Chodesh Adar II we celebrate another new moon peeking itself out of the clouds, as a silver sliver of lightness, to gently guide our way as we walk in the not-so-dark night in a warmer springtime, a new season, a season of happiness.

We are now in a time when we as Jewish women can celebrate Bat Mitzvot at the Wailing Wall, having full legal rights for women to worship with an open Torah. Truly a time to be happy for that!

Singing out of a Torah, both men and women, celebrating Rosh Chodesh, a holiday that specifically honors the female element, the new moon representing women, as opposed to a sun and solar calendar that represents only men.

The Jewish lunar calendar being a calendar of the moon, new moons and full moons, a calendar representing women, brave women like Esther who leads the springtime with the holiday of Purim.

A gentle loving way to start each new month, a new moon, a new birth, the creation of new children, new generation after generation, new month after month, with women as our creators, as G-d was the Creator of the world.

And it is on Rosh Chodesh that we celebrate the feminine, we as creators, G-d as Creator, birth as a way to renew, to come clean of the past, to forgive and be forgiven, to have a new outlook, a new attitude, a second chance.

Water, the oceans and the lakes, that are full of living fish also represent the feminine. The beauty of the new moon, on a new month, at the beach with waters, with living water. This water that dissolves the evil and cleans it, bringing a new life to the old, this newness to celebrate creation and the continuation of the Jewish people whose Torah honors women equally to men.

Celebrating Rosh Chodesh with sweet soprano singing voices in an egalitarian minyan on Rosh Chodesh! A beautiful way to honor our female element, with a new month and a new moon, a new song, and a new attitude.

This newness comes from the nurturing joy of our grandmothers, mothers, sisters, daughters. We as women who keep our families strong and together, having love being our central motivation to attain this family unity, a oneness, a one G-d as our G-d Almighty, a one love that is the greatest source of justice, justice being a creation from G-d, to keep men and women together as one united force, under one Almighty G-d.

Adar is indeed the month of true happiness! Being happy about a new season of springtime, and being happy and thanking one Almighty G-d that we were born women!

LAKE WATERS REFRESHING AND CLEANSING

Spending weekends and Shabbats on a seashore, watching peaceful calm water lake waves flow in on a sandy beach, sitting in warm sand, watching each wave one and then another, listening in Shema to each wave as it hums like a hummingbird, singing songs to you, chanting in a brushing low tone, waters singing tropes, cooing you to sleep like a baby, or in windier weather exciting you into stimulation, an excitement of seagulls and whipping waves, sinking deeper and deeper into the sand, like being at an orchestration of a symphony, each wave like another flute, another violin, another clap of the hands, warmer and warmer in the sun, singing to you, a voice that is greater than anyone's, a voice of HASHEM as He sings with the water, each sand grain dancing to the beat.

Sitting and enjoying it all, taking it all in, one deep breath after the other of a fresh sea water breeze, windiness that causes celebration and rejoicing, glad to be alive, so very glad to be at the beach.

Warmer weather on its way, bathing and swimming in warmer waters, jumping into waves as they splash upon your body, it is called a Great Lake and it is great because of its purity, purifying you, as the natural waters cleanse and coat you with an absence of hatred, having love in every drop of water, mineral water, waters that refresh, waters that cause you to love yourself and those around you. 

WATERDOGS PLAYING ON THE BEACH

Still a tough winter, not yet March, but with global warming on the beaches, winds whipping like the tails of dogs as they come up to lick your face, sitting on the sandy beaches with dogs everywhere, frolicking into the waters and getting wet: waterdogs.

Fighting dogs without a reason to bite, throwing him a bone, he will eat it and then not bite his owner. Smaller dogs wagging and jumping stretching leashes to break them, to have freedom, biting into the leather band as it surrounds their neck, chewing it, ripping it open, freedom, being home for dinner.

Dogs biting chew bones exercising their jaws like sharks they file their teeth sharper, thrown another bone, a toy, a time to play, to grip someone with sharper teeth.

Teeth filed still sharper, gripping bone toys, gripping his hand as he hands him his bone. Dogs pounding on sand and jumping into the lake to find a shark, gripping with his teeth, a dog's tooth and a shark's tooth, filed to a stony point.

Smiling whiter teeth and counting new teeth as they grow in your mouth, not missing a tooth, teeth sharp enough to bite and leave a hole, gaping, widely.

The joys of sitting in the sand to watch the dogs play and the sharks bite. A bullfight, gladiators, boxing, wrestling, football, a way to let off steam and to blow it all off on the beach in the sands while the wind blows on your head, not wearing a hat.

THE BEAUTY OF GOD REFLECTED IN LAKE WATER

Large open spaces rooms with large long walls and slicked varnished long slatted wooden floors, huge windows letting in lots of light beaming and brightening reflecting and lightening the soul and uplifting the heart, laughing chuckling drinking pitchers of iced water smeared on the lips never to eat the grapes of someone else's vineyard, getting the grapes that fall to the side, someone picking the grapes for you, always to be in grapes, never to be without. Purple and green, blue and white, crimson red that is not blood. Bloodless meats circulating through the body pumping the heart and tingling the muscles, unsalted potato chips, sweetness of a smile and not using chocolate. Being in the know even though you do not want to know, hearing someone laugh and being happy that they are happy.

Steadily eating another grape and turning purple as others turn green but not with envy. Using their greenness to grow more grapes and to bake more pies. Tapping a foot to the rhythm of a loom that is threading all the colors of the rainbow, having the rainbow in your backyard when its pot of gold accumulates and you do not need to spend it. Donating gold to the filling of her teeth as they fall out. Smiling larger and bigger as her teeth corrode and yours light up the lives of people who do not have light.

Lighting up a smile with a flame on a candle as you close your eyes and become surprised, having the lightness when others do not and showing it to them. Appreciating every tinge and warming your cold hands. Wishing, but not having wishes come true, because G-d calls the chips, tossing another coin in the well and wetting your lips with drinking water as you watch lake waves get rockier and wetter, hoping that everyone can take a dip and enjoy a swim.

Another Shabbat at the beach with the awe of G-d everywhere as He reflects His beauty in great lake water.

SOUNDING SEAS SWEETLY SMILING SINGING

Waves splashing, singing, shouting, seriously slapping wetter ferociously wildly in the wilderness. Dune grasses and mounds of sand stirred up like sloppy stone soup, sucking and sipping.

Supping on furious fishes from fast white water rapids, while catfish are becoming scarce and extinct.

Rolling, rocking on a boat, holding on securely, spitting up silver onto a shoreline, spending money you do not need.

Feeding fondly on fruit and fish deeply in your belly, unbuckling your belt and brushing up onto the beach.

Pirates lashing swords in black boots wringing necks of sea monsters, slashing out with forked tongues, bending, breaking, piercing, whispering words of wishful wonderment.

Dark green opaque sunglasses, hiding, mirrored lenses reflecting, secretly withholding eyes.

Having scrolls of ancient history highly hung overhead, interpreting age old print, hands pointed and fingers not touching the precious parchment.

Sea monsters' songs sprung from cesspools drowning him out because he tried to drown you. The Song of the Sea changes lives, wanting, wishing to live forever, swimming safely away.

Spreading pages of books, burning, as you are breathing, minds becoming heavier and heavier, thinking, brainstorming, thunder storming.

Writing on a page in your own book in a novel with a story of a war that you have won.

Hearing the sounds of clapping, clanging cymbals! Trumpets shrilly shouting! Becoming bugles, audible to all types of audiences.

Teaching toe touching, dance stepping. Tongues waggling, wiggling, singing songs soundly.

Punishing pain pushing away, vanishing, the broken becoming mended.

Mysterious music of the sea smiling at me, as beautiful today as she did yesterday.

THE POLISHED STONES ALONG THE SEASHORE

The awesomeness of great waves, easy going, one wave after the other, each wave letting a wave go before it, showing courtesy, one wave before and then one wave following, like an army of waves, causing soothing-ness coolness predictability, no one wave much bigger than the other, each wave basically the same, regularity, nothing upsetting the apple cart, no one wave to cause worry, each wave like the other in equality.

Each wave containing water, bringing up algae, to rejoice in these waves, to skip stones, to perfect a skill of skipping them, watching a stone smooth and polished skip several times over the waves before it dunks in the water and we lose it. There are more stones, more polished and more smooth stones, more opportunities to skip them and to perfect our skill even more.

Skipping stones everyday, skills becoming more and more perfected, more and more stones provided, larger and larger body of water, sunny days, greater more expansive amounts of grainy sandy shore, more and more time to have to devote to skipping stones, people watching as you skip them, cheering you on as your stone takes more skips than the stone you threw before, a game of skipping stones, becoming a livelihood of skipping stones. David skipping a stone into the forehead of Goliath, a stone that was only a pebble, changing history, a stone that was aimed in the right direction, and toppled a giant. A stone that saved a life and took a life.

Stone Soup, a soup made of stones, stones that are tossed into a soup pot and cooked up. Stones we eat and stones we throw into the sea, stones that are bricks of buildings as shelters, building homes out of stones. Stones for everything, stones for enjoyment and recreation, stones that teach us, stones that form our homes, stones in soup pots that we eat.

Having stones and therefore having it all.

NOT DROWNING IN A SEA OF FALSE FLATTERY

Flattery, false compliments urging, bringing out of oneself, laughing aloud not peaceably whispering, talking not listening, not learning, knowing nothing new, controlling conversations, speaking instead of learning instead of listening, inviting argumentation.

Opening up your suite of armor and attracting the entrance of a spear the splitting of an arrow. A discussion becoming a debate, what was good turning bad, saying things you do not mean, defending yourself, saying words attracting negative attention, not being agreed with, not having them on your side, being in a room with natural enemies, saying they are your friends, trying to cut down walls and open doors, doors slammed shut and walls not falling, no one agreeing, being with a team that does not work together, trying to say the last word, no one heard.

Thinking you have powers to split the sea instead getting wet and drowning. Watching the sea spilt by itself, not the one to split it, G-d doing the undoable. Talking to natural enemies and make them your friends, having the fear of spiritual awe, the almighty power of peace. Scaring the Egyptians into drowning in a sea when they thought they could swim, warriors whose bullets bounced back on themselves.

A state of flattery to encourage you to jump into waters that are higher than your head, knowing the fierceness of the waves and deepness of the sea, staying afloat in a boat as it peacefully passes the shoreline, not swimming against waves, against adversity, safe and swimming without diving, without breaking your neck.

Making the entire body of water your home and your friend, not giving up what you have, not being guided by a misleading shepherd, not being a sheep who is sheepish, causing a fish out of water, basking in the shade without needing a tree, water waves pouring in freely without causing a hole in the sand, not falling into up to your neck, not believing in someone's false flattery.

Keeping your sails firmly up against the wind and not being blown over, traveling in the boat around the world, not sinking, not flooding.

WINNING A FIGHT NEVER FOUGHT

"Anger will kill a fool."
- Job 5:2

Ferocious roaring sea water waves, crashing into rocks on a sandy shore wearing down the crags smoothing them, cushiony chairs to sit on these rocks becoming stone. An angry sea, one of fierce argument, adversity, waves like warriors, once was a splitting sea when each wave flew up forming a wall, swiftly, allowing us to pass between them unharmed, to drown the Egyptians as they were on the offense, to kill, to bring the Hebrews to freedom to the Promised Land. Each Egyptian warrior drowned in the caving in of the walls of the great green sea. An angry sea that killed them as fools.

Hollering, yelling, screaming, fighting, charging head on like a bull after a red cape, the heaving of one's chest full force frontal into a fight, slashing swinging swords, splitting narrow arrows from bending bows, intensely targeting another as an opposition, an apparent opponent.

Challenging, turning a discussion into a debate, throwing sticks and stones to hit a tense target, kicking jumping up and down, shifting and shouting and banging one's fists wildly against a wall, pounding against a table, unstable.

Glaring staring eyes meeting the eyes of another not giving up, zeroing in on the enemy, making a staunch statement, trying to win by causing him to lose, gambling but without luck.

But, so they say "Anger will kill a fool."

Slowing down one's heartbeat, walking the other way, turning around giving him your back, not responding to the challenge, holding your sense of peace deeply within yourself, averting your eyes looking down looking away.

Not yelling back, bridling your mouth, holding your arms from taking a swing, not forcing yourself, saying nothing in return, holding your own, whispering an internal mantra, skipping freely away happily, merrily.

Not getting entangled. Forgiving and forgetting. Not holding a grudge, feeling the tension in your chest escaping, breathing hot air out, diffusing, being a large full tight balloon losing air in a fizzle, fists unwinding, hands flowing freely to one's side.

Giving him the benefit of the doubt. One less enemy, one less battle, removing your suite of amour, hitting and bouncing off your shield.

Now putting your sword back in its sheathe.

Not angered, not killed, not a fool. Won a fight because it was never fought.

HAPPY SABBATH ON THE SEA

Shabbat at sunset approaching like a boat from the horizon of the lake, a Shabbat of "simcha" which is a special Shabbat of joyousness and comforting rest.

Watching the boats sail in towards the dock getting closer and closer as the sun makes its rounds and soon will be lower in the sky and becoming a purple, pink, and orange star, brightly burning like a Shabbat candle flame, flickering in the sea breeze, warming ice cold hands and bringing hope to me as I watch the flame burn down the wax, lower and lower, as the sun sets lower and lower.

Then, as if in a miracle, when there is no more light, no more candlelight or sunlight, my body lowers in reverence as it faces to the east, and I take a full bow to welcome the Shabbat Bride.

Welcoming Shabbat and its joyousness and great restful sensations as G-d's seventh day, a Day of Rest, a day when we stop creating, a day of prayer, a day when we are surrounded in a tallit of happiness and worship, a day made for me as a gift, a gift from G-d.

Happy Sabbath.

MIKVAH IN THE DEEP SEAS

Gusting out sweet song, spilling out words of Hebrew chesed [loving-kindness] as waves of water wash wonderfully onto the shore, smelling the algae and fish, filling up your lungs with the scent of the sea, whispering and then shouting, calling the seagulls to listen, seeing a wave with white froth slowly approaching and coming towards you, white bubbles like frosting on a cake, the coolness and the sweetness of the yellow butter tickling the tongue, a reward for a job well done.

Dancing as a surfer upon the waves, in a circular dance holding hands as each wave comes in and drowns your bare feet, as a ballet dancer avoiding the wetness, being submerged as you jump a Russian dance jump kick like a fiddler on the roof into the sea and submerge yourself into the depths of it.

Wetting all of one's body, saturating the skin and under the skin, getting wet between the toes, cleanness and pureness, sweet waters sugared with a block of wood, wood being paper, a scroll, a Torah inside the waters as a way to achieve respectfulness of all religions, to live and let live, to try to understand the differences, like different fish in the sea, all of sanctified separation, some with fins and some without, catfish to be thrown back into the sea, fish as foods, fish that cannot be eaten.

Riding high waves on surfboards, avoiding a splash, showing honor to all the fish of the sea as you glide on by, not in adversity, not to rock the boat.

Being pure in thoughts as well as actions as well as words. Having the gift of a mikvah to cure oneself of all ills.

A BOTTLE WITH A MESSAGE THROWN INTO THE SEA

Having pleasant memories of deceased loved ones before they die. A message scrunched and folded into a bottle and thrown into a deep green sea, seeing it floating but no one reaching out to pick it up.

Light green colored waters becoming blue as the day goes by and the sun sets. An Israeli blue and white flag flying half mast, remembering our loved ones now before they are dead, blowing them a kiss in the breeze over miles of sea water, sending them a message in a bottle.

Giving a helping hand, offering an elder a ride, pushing a wheelchair, singing out a song of sympathy to an elder who would rather be dead. Asking of her where will she be after death, and she replies "in your pocket always near to you always at your side."

As we bow low before our ancestors, always having them moments away in life or in death, a father or mother who never dies. A child who grows up with her mother and father always next to her by her side, on her side, fighting with her, with her side against all other sides, against all odds.

Not having a loss even when a loss is eminent, calling always to your guardian angel to sweeten your bitter waters, hoping she finds your message in a bottle, a bottle afloat to sweeten the seas with words as sweet as wine, with words of hope and words of love to those the deceased has left behind.

Floating, always floating, never adrift without a purpose, having a purpose to keep your deceased parents' love for your family alive.

Learning to swim, then learning to yacht, then finding an island in the seas where you can bask lazily in the sun, warm your skin and think thoughts of love for your loved ones whether in life or in death, a place to receive your message in your bottle and to read it aloud.

A message in a bottle that says "I love you always, whether in death or in life."

SPLASHING IN AN ICY LAKE

Running across the shoreline on a sandy beach, jumping into the freezing waters and splashing the wetness onto your face with open palms tingling the skin and refreshing the body, invigorating the heartbeat, coldness to awaken Sleeping Beauty from her long dreamy sleep. Rip Van Winkle slept for 100 years until he splashed on this precious natural chlorine-less water that fell from the sky into a lake basin below, water like manna falling from the heavens, chilling temperatures causing it to be a stimulant, witch's hazel smeared onto the cheeks, clean water without soap moistening the eyes, a beach that is a second heaven, a lake of water that anoints sinners and makes them pure again.

Freezing ice blocks forming at the lake's edge, stomping onto them crushing them and digging holes in them with the heel of your boot, breaking off a piece of ice and sailing on it out towards the middle of the lake, an island in a vast expanse of cold water, pitching a white flag of surrender into the center of the ice, surrendering up all attempts to get back to shore, sailing on a journey to wherever it takes you, far out into the middle of the lake, one man, one block of ice, with water all around him, then paddling back to shore, a story, a fable to share, an adventure of a cold winter morning, all imagined as you never left the shore, it was all in your dreams all in your head.

Feeling renewed, waters providing a natural mikvah, putting thoughts of loving-kindness into the brain that were not there before, thinking new refreshing stimulated thoughts sprinkled and purified with holy icy pure lake water.

TRUMPETING LOUDLY OVER LAKE WATERS

"On the day of your joy, on your holidays and on the heads of your months you shall blow with trumpets"—Numbers 10:10.

"We are commanded to blow trumpets while the sacrifices offered on special dates were being offered in the Holy Temple. We are also commanded to blow trumpets during times of distress, to accompany our prayer to G‑d." [Chabad.org]

Screaming seagulls diving into a fish filled sea, trumpeting a call of the wild from their beaks, screeching like a trumpet, a horn of plenty, as they kill their lunch.

Standing over a lakeside sea of waters rushing in and like a trumpet blowing out of your windpipes sounding "Shekinah!" with high soprano notes over the shoreline of waters, calling loudly as in a roaring blaze like lightening and fire over the seashores, "Shekinah!" the soft soothing name of the female counterpart of G-d.

Blowing out of your lungs like a horn of a ram, like a shofar, a golden metal trumpeter, sliding your fingers along its pedals, hoarse at first, then clearing your lungs with a loud cough that sounds like music as it flows through the winding pipes of the golden trumpet, music to warn or to calm, to say what you cannot say using words.

A trumpet that plays music with every sound being a shout of a Hebrew alphabet letter, a holy word in great gasps from The Torah that sounds in gaiety and joyousness of the worship of the holy almighty Elohim G-d.

A TREE OF LIFE ON TU B' SHEVAT

“It is a tree of life to all those who hold on to it, and those who support it are blessed.” [Torah]

Gingko trees surrounding sandy seashores spilling fan-shaped yellow leaves onto the ground in autumn and dropping orange candy-like berries onto the ground to squish with the soles of your shoes, swaying in the winds at a playground where children play after jumping in the lake and wetting their swimsuits.

Trees of grandeur and delicacy, winding branches like arms of a Chanukah menorah, reaching upwards towards the heavens as do the arms of man when he lifts the Torah Scroll higher and higher with a firm grip.

Gingko trees that welcome the songs of children and their laughter after eating a good kosher meal.

A tree that shades your eyes from the fierce sandy seashore sunrays, its leaves like sunglasses letting in only a shadow that guards your eyes from too much otherwise blinding light.

Tu B' Shevat, a holy day holiday that represents the deepness of the roots of the trees as the Gingko trees' network of winding roots beneath its trunk, roots of a family and the genes and DNA of your ancestors, still growing deep into the ground with richness to support the strong tree branches like the mighty arms of G-d that grow above your head.

Eating the nutrients of nuts and fruits, drinking both the red and white wines, having a cup of hot tea.

Letting the upwards growth of a blessed tree stretch your thoughts highly above the dusty ground into an upright climb towards improvement. To study the Torah and have it be your tree, a guide towards spiritual improvement that with daily study occurs everyday.

SHABBAT AT THE SEASHORE

[On Friday, Moses told the people,] “Tomorrow will be a day of rest, a holy Sabbath unto G-d.” Exodus 16:23."

Sitting on the dock of the bay, water coming in slowly surrounding your bare feet with its spa-like effect, resting on the sands, soaking up sunlight, a beach that was created by G-d for you to spend on it taking in the restfulness of Shabbat.

A Day of Rest, a time to take off and stop creating, stop cooking, stop lighting lights, resting on a couch, putting one's feet up, taking the load off your feet, sitting and thinking in an easy chair, resting one's muscles in a soft bed, laying on the sands of a wet beach, taking it easy, having a date with your couch, at time to pray, eat, drink, and be merry.

A Shabbat rest, a holiday which is a holy day, that comes once a week, regularly, predictably, often, usually. 

A time to remember things that you will not do, instead to do activities that bring you rest and peace.

A Shabbat rest that rejuvenates the body, heart and mind.

Preparing for a rest, taking care of business on Friday so it ceases on Saturday.

Having all good intentions coming forth in your actions due to a body and mind that is reborn, is given a second life, a second chance to do what seemed impossible to do when you were stressed. Taking away all stress, removing all sense of the burdens of responsibility that you feel during the weekdays.

A time to daven, to study Torah, to eat plenty at a Kiddush, to toast with your friends, to take it all in stride, to heal from the past week's difficulties. 

A time to cherish, a time to sing, a time that extends your life so you can work again next week.

Water waves pouring in one by one on a beach of satisfaction, a place where all the fish are fed, on a Saturday, on the Day of Rest, watching the tide come in and thanking G-d for having peace.

A SEA OF SAMENESS AND SAFETY

 

A place of safety, guarded regularly walking in big black boots with a Star of David on his chest, back and forth in army boots, quickly scanty-eyed with several video screens viewing vastness, cameras containing film, fun films at the theater shown to confuse to control to comprehend the uncomprehending, one fire door and only one exit, staying home to watch TV instead.

Roofs made of thick wood rain not coming down in torrents, snow lifted and melted not freezing my cold hands.

Shingles one over the other of a sickly green color, surrounding a chimney that blows out smoke but not ashes, clean air clean water, heated homes and full crowded dinner tables always filled with cooked and served food.

Warm clothing, fur hats that tie under the chin, windy gusts not blowing through, ears covered while walking dogs that jump into a cold lake splashing water and breaking ice.

Legs continually pounding on a wet sand on a shoreline stretching the muscles keeping in shape.

A daily routine of the obvious, in a safe place while safely marching with the team that is winning, an army that always wins, warriors that do not need to fight.