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Free Bird

September 16, 2015 in Age Matters, Feminist Matters, Style Matters

This morning as I comb out the bird’s nest that was once my Barbie locks and iron the nipped-in Mad Men dress I’m wearing on today’s show, I’m laughing, I really am. While out at the beach for a few weeks, I only washed my hair once, I never shaved anything, I didn’t put on deodorant, I never even brushed my hair. (My bun got more “bee-hivey” each day.) Sure, I brushed my teeth and took showers; hot water and clean teeth are wonderful. But I rarely put on lipstick–let alone clothes with a waist or, G-d forbid, a bra. It turns out that, at this ripe old age, a true vacation entails zero grooming or dolling up. I have reverted to my nine-year-old self–that tomboy in a smock dress and Converse sneakers–and it is glorious.

The Sun’s Business

September 14, 2015 in Spirit Matters, Weather Matters

I ran away again, which is the story of this September so far. It is my compensation for a summer spent wallowing in city grime and clickety-quacks (pretend that’s a word, for it should be). I’m taking care of things that can no longer be postponed, which is not pleasant, but being outside of the city in the most holy time of year is extremely pleasant. Case in point: Before tackling my onerous to-do list, I woke early today to watch the sunrise. I biked through back roads, still in darkness, and then sat at the sea, listening as much as watching while the sun steeled herself for her big ascent and the waves crashed as if to cheer her on. Business as usual. When she finally came up, it was glorious, also business as usual. Continue Reading →

Apple Sauce for Eve

September 13, 2015 in Quoth the Raving, Spirit Matters

The Jewish new year begins at sundown and I, for one, am glad. All summer I’ve been gripped by fear and now everything is coming to a head. Will I transcend these challenges? I have so far to fall and nothing tangible to catch me, not since I left my father’s house and stopped looking for new daddies in other men’s eyes. I pray to rise with my work and my heart above existentialist struggles, for the bravery to handle what comes next, for the faith to live in a brighter light. I am grateful for every quality that has brought me here, as vulnerable as I currently feel, and I am grateful for those before me who’ve had the temerity to make themselves. I pray for the wind of this new year, new moon, new day for me, for you, for we. And (again) I think of Marge Piercy’s words:

Those old daddies cursed you, Eve, and us in you, damned for your curiosity…You are indeed the mother of invention, the first scientist. Your name means life: finite, dynamic, swimming against the current of time, tasting, testing, eating knowledge like any other nutrient. We are all the children of your bright hunger. We are all products of that first experiment, for if death was the worm in that apple, the seeds were freedom and the flowering of choice.

L’shanah Tovah.

"All, everything I understand, I understand only because I love."
― Leo Tolstoy