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this week's words are:
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Just whatever's on my mind...
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this week's words are:
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it's been a rough couple of weeks. the new moon a few days before my birthday and the one year anniversary of my moving to a newish country sent me into a spiral of depression costing me a good deal of my sanity, but the full moon a few days ago seems to be helping to mellow me out a bit. I mentioned in the post I made that week (Aliyah-versary) that I haven't really been doing much of anything other than laying around being a useless lump, rationing my diminishing food supply, and doing my best to try and find people to help me get the support I need in the areas I need it.
the social workers here have mostly been a big fail for me in that arena, and the ones I connected with so far have mostly made me feel unsafe and vulnerable to threats I'm not ready to navigate, so I probably won't be turning to them again any time soon. I did call a few of the local helplines when I felt I was freaking out and needed to talk, and some of them were a bit helpful, though some of the folks I spoke with seemed to think marrying me off to a religious nut is the answer to all my problems, and I beg to differ. what I've needed most (this month) has been financial assistance, and help finding a job I can stick with and succeed at in the long term, and I did manage to work some mojo in that direction - I was gifted the miracle of enough cash to pay this month's rent and bills, and also received a grant to enroll in a 'retraining' program to learn a new skill/trade so I can hopefully 'upgrade' my ability to find work here.
in the meantime, I've been focusing on drinking enough water, getting a decent amount of rest, and doing what I can to organize my space a little bit better, which is an ongoing process as I'm still 'unpacking' and sorting my belongings into a workable semblance of organization. the bookcase I bought is already stuffed full, and there are several books/files that don't even fit on the shelves and are piled on the floor next to the bookshelf. since my contract (lease) is nearing its end and I wasn't sure if I was going to be able to stay in this apartment much longer, I certainly wasn't going to buy any more furniture or decorate, but it seems I still have some small glimmer of hope because with the help of my cousin, I managed to get the landpeople to renew the contract at the current rent price rather than raising it 200 shekels a month, and at least that buys me one more month of a roof over my head to try and find another job before rent comes due again.
I feel like the embodiment of 'two steps forward, one step back' this month - as though all the pressure of looming homelessness wasn't enough, Facebook decided to ban me from the platform out of the blue for no reason, so just while I was struggling the hardest with my mental health, I was cut off from the closest thing I have to support from virtual 'friends', not to mention the employment groups and new immigrant support groups I belong to on there. I also had an item up for sale on Marketplace which would have bought me a week's worth of groceries if I could manage to sell it - and the many many recipes and craft projects I've saved over the years that I lost access to just when I needed them most.
curiously, being banned from fb gave me a really eye-opening reality check of how deeply I'm immersed in it, and forced me to take a step back and use that time more productively. sure, I played hours and hours of video games (by which I mean sheshbesh, yatzy, and various word games) and watched WAY too many seasons of an older tv program I liked once upon a time, but I also turned to this blog and managed to catch up on a few posts, delete lots of festering drafts, reconnect with The Sunday Whirl, and discover Six Sentence Stories from GirlieOnTheEdge. the former didn't feel so welcoming as only one other participant stopped in to leave a comment on my poem (I visited and commented on ALL the other blogs), while the SSS community has been very welcoming, kind, and engaging (that's why they get a link, and TSW doesn't 😉). I got an email from fb this morning saying I've been reinstated, though I'm in no rush to log back in after my 2 week hiatus. I know I will soon enough as I still have that aforementioned item to sell on Marketplace, and all those recipes and craft projects to save in a more secure location so I don't lose access to them again at the whim of some stupid bot.
the big win for today was getting myself to the shuk in time to buy the ingredients I was missing for my soup, and a challah plus some dessert for my Shabbat meal tonight. I'm not usually one for doughnuts, but for whatever reason I woke up this morning just...wanting a chocolate doughnut, and wondering if I'd seen anything resembling that since I've been here. I didn't find exactly what I was looking for, but I found something close enough. my timer just went off letting me know my soup is ready, so I'm going to have myself a bowl, then finish what I came here to do; pull some tarot cards for a community reading!
so - which deck am I feeling today? let's see...
I'm going to use three different decks for us this time - my very first deck, Tarot of the Witches, because I haven't read in awhile and it just feels right; The Fairie's Oracle, in honor of two dear friends; and my fake Ukranian (Russian?) knockoff of Buckland's Romani Tarot because there happen to be a lot of Russians (Ukranians?) in my building/neighborhood, so why not.
to begin: where are we all? what is happening in our world?
next: what do we need? what can we offer to ourselves and each other?
and finally: how/where do we find it?
The Guardian at the Gate - this Guardian's duty is to hold the mystical gateway open for those who are ready to pass through to new realms, and close it to those who aren't. drawing this card indicates we are being welcomed to step into a new awareness, and/or to hold the door open for others who may be ready to join us on the other side. we are also reminded that each of us must make that choice on our own. it's such a delicate little thing, yet a deeply important and significant moment for us all. can we let ourselves open our hearts to both our own changes, and those of others? we can't pass this way and stay the same; it is suggested that we ask The Guardian for both guidance and protection as we embark.
5 of Pentacles - the ones who have lost everything. desperate, destitute, and beyond hope. they are plagued by illness and poverty, and cry out in their pain. they don't notice the light in the window because they're too caught up in their own plight to see that there is still the tiniest glimmer of hope. if they seek connection, they will find it. so how/where do we find it? most tarot decks illustrate the window as a church, but we can fill in whatever we need for that metaphor, as we aren't all of the same faith. but that's the bottom line - faith. if we find it in a building under the guidance of a spiritual leader, or if we find it out in nature under a canopy of trees, sky, and stars, we must seek it out in order to reconnect with what heals and carries us through the dark times.
if we choose to see our collective consciousness as The Fool about to step off that cliff where The Guardian of the Gate asks us to consider if we're really ready to walk into that awareness, can we turn our mindset from scarcity and fear to hope and connection? are we truly able to let ourselves love each other that much? can we love our own selves that much? what does it take? for me, it takes small acts like drinking water and resting, making myself soup, and remembering to center myself enough to feel like I can read cards for us. and finding the right people to reach out to when I need help. it's all a process that we've been through again and again, and somehow, we will always find ourselves at the beginning, even if we're at the end.
selah ~
*if you enjoyed this reading and would like to connect with me for a personal reading of your own, reach out to me at Mysteriam Tarot & Dreamwork. 💙💜💙
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the prompt is BRAND
"So, what your saying is that we don't have enough money to cover the rent, and you think that driving up to Montreal to gamble at a casino with the money we do have is the best option for getting it?"
She couldn't believe she was sitting in his car heading north, going along with this ludicrous and most likely ill-fated plan as they approached the border to Canada, passed through with their Vermont ID's, and continued on to the outcome she hoped against hope would work out in their favor.
Having only been to Las Vegas that one time, the casino still somehow felt familiar with its low-lights, lack of clocks, and wildly patterned carpet, and she quickly went to sit at the slot machines where she was the most comfortable, as the tables with their high stakes were intimidating and she wasn't that bold a gambler, never having had the kind of money it required to wear one's confidence like a suit.
On the other hand, he went straight to the tables, illustrating one of the key differences in their characters, and probably a good indication that the relationship wasn't bound to last, though that thought (which she had often enough to make her consider breaking up with him at least once a week) always made her think of Philippe Halsman's Jump Book, which seemed to indicate the opposite - that couples who exhibited similar jumps ended up splitting, while those who jumped differently appeared to have stood the test of time.
After an hour of their separate endeavors, he came over to where she was absently watching the virtual wheels spin with eyes that looked to be glazing over and turned her to face his newest idea as it had come to him, and with a contained excitement he began, "I think...instead of this aimless sort of searching for our fortunes on our own, we should team up, pick one game - like craps or roulette - and put the whole pile of what we have left on one bold bet, no regrets."
And so she found herself standing before a long expanse of green, broken by lines and numbers down its center that had no meaning to her, shaking two dice in her right fist muttering, "Come on, Lady Luck, mama needs some brand new shoes..."
(I hope I've done this right, and if not, I hope someone pops in to correct me!)
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haven't done this in a few years, but here goes! this week's words are:
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untethered cloaks tendrils gods ash renew weaves through holy spark below wonder
tendrils of hair
luminous
with holy sparks
woven through ash
untethered
from below the hoods
of cloaks
which are prisons
meant to erase
the goddesses
who renew with wonder
the indomitable spirit
of their people
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| this week's words were a poem all by themselves |
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| which brought immediately to my mind |
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these brave women on the front lines of claiming their own freedom
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written October 26, 2024 ~
not every dish is going to be a success, and that's ok. I was whining to my friend that I didn't have a whole chicken for my soup this week, and she suggested I use the chicken breast I had instead. she said she does it all the time and the result is the same...so I tried it. it wasn't good. and not only did the soup itself fall flat, I fell asleep before it was cool enough to cover fully and put in the fridge/freezer, so when I woke up this morning, I quickly realized I had left it out on the counter overnight, uncovered, and now I was going to have to pour it down the drain. quelle horreur!
luckily, I had one serving of my last batch of soup left in the freezer, so for breakfast, there was one serving of delicious ancestor-approved chicken broth to dip my challah in...the last of the round loaves I baked for the holiday season (Rosh Hashanah through Simchat Torah). it was SO good, and I prayed over it, assuring myself it was a magical elixir pouring into my body filled with healing strength and loving goodness. its power grows exponentially when the homemade challah and the homemade soup and are eaten together - it's a melody of love wrapped in flavor and texture, carried through generations. I feel cared for while I indulge in them, warm and cozy when I'm done.
I had planned to do some major self-care today, as I started a new job this week and need both the rest, and the space to get used to a new schedule. it's a bit frustrating, as I was hoping to be on a plane to Israel by now, but I guess it's not my time yet. I've submitted all my documentation and am waiting for an interview. I was getting ready to sell my car and sign the apartment over to my son, so I wasn't trying all that hard to get a job because I was hoping to be looking for work in a new country. but as the weeks began to pass with no money coming in, I HAD to take the first job I was offered, and now I not only need my car, I need it to have good winter tires and a tune up.
while I'm grateful for the additional time to get ready for an overseas move, I wasn't planning on being in the Northeast for the winter, so I need to shift my perspective a bit from my environment prospectively getting warmer to it getting colder, instead. and there appear to be one or two more of those unexpected obstacles to navigate that you don't see coming and definitely don't need, but it's yet another opportunity to show others what grace looks like as a response to petty manipulations. we'll see. I'll get out of here with everything I need when the time comes.
in any case, one of the ways I planned to care for myself is to try a new-to-me recipe which I will share as an offering to you and yours at the close of Jewish Holiday Season, and the beginning of 'spooky season' as the white folks are calling Halloween and Samhain these days.
two weeks later ~
the water was off overnight and most of the day, so I wasn't able to make my weekly soup in time for Shabbat, but I was mostly making it in the service of the new-to-me soup I'm trying this week - Marak Katom, 'orange soup' in Hebrew. but no worries, it's back on now, and I'm playing catch-up in my kitchen. it was a weird week - I got fired from my NEW job for responding to the question "what makes you feel unsafe at work" with "my co-workers wearing keffiyehs and shouting to free a place that never existed" which is both problematic and a Whole Can of Conspiracy Worms so I'll save it for another post. I'm rightfully feeling all kinds of feels, and I called some friends to yell and cry and laugh about it, which was helpful...but I need soup. hearty, homemade, happy soup.
several hours later ~
the chicken soup is done and it's amazing. tomorrow I'll make the orange soup.
the next day ~
the Marak Katom is So Good - gonna eat it with grilled cheese sandwiches all week! the recipe is from Sivan's Kitchen; check her out on Instagram, I love her content (she served hers in a pumpkin)!
recipe:
1 medium butternut squash
3 medium sweet potatoes
4-5 peeled carrots
large red onion
2 whole heads of garlic
7 cups chicken stock
olive oil
salt, pepper
pumpkin seeds and cinnamon for garnish (optional)
preheat
the oven to 400º. cut the veggies in half (removing squash seeds);
drizzle with oil, salt & pepper, and place face down on a parchment
covered baking sheet (wrap garlic in foil); roast one hour. scoop
squash innards into soup pot, add carrot & onion, squeeze the garlic
into the pot, add the chicken stock, and simmer. puree until creamy, and it's done!

written December 20, 2020 ~
"where there's a Will, there's a way"
I spin a fantasy of you
sliding between my ample thighs
with some sighs
maybe some gasps and moans
before the cries
of pleasure
but for you I'd tell
the truth
how I long for a certain
kind of growl
in my ear
the first time
all over again
the fear
at the possibility
of feeling something
how much I'd hold back
because there's too much
to let go
how I could drown in
my own longing
I could break you with my despair
feed your own need back to you
and spin us both off
into oblivion
weave my spells with
magic words
shake them out of my hair
slide them through you
with a glance
draw them out with your blood
by the skin of my teeth
and fingernails
but my bed is cold
and there's no one to hold me
in the night but
the Gods I conjure
who disappear with the light
I could devour you
right now
written on June 14th, 2020 ~
I prefer movies to television, but since I've been home So Much recently, I've watched a few tv shows here and there to fill in the spaces. and since I'm maturing into such a good-humored old dear, bless my heart, I tend to watch shows I've seen a bit of before, because I know I've enjoyed them for one reason or another, such as Hoarders. I like it because the houses I grew up in boasted a regimented comfort. everything had a place, and everything Stayed in it's place unless you were using it, after which you'd put it away. our things were always neat, clean, and in order. at summer camp, I was the kid who bounced a quarter on my hospital-cornered cot. when I moved out of my parents' house and lived on my own, my rooms and apartments were clean to the point of being camera-ready (a guest once commented that all my place was missing were the velvet ropes...you know, like a museum?). as a new, struggling, single mom, the piece of advice I got from veteran moms the most was to stop cleaning my house. it was hard for me to do, but I managed, and that velvet rope guest commented that they now felt much more at ease in my space. I didn't.
as the boy grew, we acquired more things - a crib that converted to a toddler bed, a dresser, a bookshelf, a table & chairs, toys, clothing, a tricycle. then some of those items got bigger - a bicycle that got traded up for a mountain bike, a twin bed that got upgraded to a full-sized loft, a guitar and amplifier, a computer, a new tv, another chair...for someone who spent years living in my car out of a backpack while traveling the country, it started to be too much. a few years back, when I helped my mom move out of her house and into an apartment, I ended up bringing a few car-fulls of ancestral belongings home with me: my grandfather's marble inlaid chess table, some of my grandparents' framed artwork and antiques, kitchen items, and more. there's wasn't really room for a lot of it, but I tucked them in under tables, around my bed, and into cabinets and closets.
when I was surprised by the news that the state was taking over the property I lived on to rebuild a bridge and we had to move again, I was less than enthused (outraged, really). I brought a portion of my hillock of inherited ancestral detritus to sell at the local flea market, then I had a yard sale. on moving day, whatever was left had to come with us, since I was too emotionally attached to it to just consign it all to the dumpster. once we were settled in, I managed to sell a few more items on eBay, but I still have too many things stacked in the hallway and the bedroom to feel good about my space. anyway...since I had the opportunity to watch a little tv, and I ended up watching Hoarders, I came to the decision that I was done cluttering up my home with these 'overflow' items, and was just going to give them to the various places where one donates their household goods.
so I've been taking things out of my space, a few bags at a time, and I'm SO glad I have! I can't wait to get that hallway cleared, and then the bedroom. at my age, and where I am in my life, I don't need or want any clutter around me (not that I ever did, really); and even though I purged some things before the move, and I'm working on getting rid of more, I'm still looking to pare down to possibly spartan levels of ownership. I mean, what does a person really need? sure, it's nice to be surrounded by lovely things that bring you joy, but all I ever needed to experience that was a tent in the woods. I'd like to get back there again. or at least as close as I can while still maintaining some semblance of what our current society considers 'a proper home'. and I like sleeping on a firm mattress with a warm, soft blanket more than I enjoy sleeping on the ground in my sleeping bag, these days.
while there are things I'd like to pass on to my son, none of them are a pile of random inherited ancestral crap, or even the slightest tendency towards hoarding. to be clear, I'm in no way a hoarder - I'm just a reformed neat-freak who likes for my environment to be clean, and clutter-free.
6 years later, an update ~
we moved two more times since then, possibly more depending on how you count, and I'm still carrying around 'too many things'. while I did a lot of work in that apartment, the next place we moved was a tiny furnished place that we knew we were only going to be in for a year, so 95% of our things went into storage for the duration. when the year was up, we took everything from the storage space and put it into a moving van, drove to another state, and put it all right back into storage as we didn't have a place to live yet. then I sent the young man off to college, and lived in the car for 5 months until an apartment was finally available. at first I just moved in with what I had with me in the car, then went and grabbed a few things like my mattress, extra blankets and clothes, toiletries, and kitchen items. when the kid came home for winter break, we spent most of the month retrieving the rest of it, and I was once again surrounded by boxes.
it took some time to get it sorted out and put away, and wouldn't you know it? I ended up with a stack of things I no longer wanted or needed (but was too emotionally attached to to just throw them in the dumpster) that ended up tucked into corners, under tables, and stuffed into closets. I did make an effort to clear most of those items out during the 2 years that I lived there, but when I decided to make Aliyah, I had to get serious about what I could bring overseas with me, what I couldn't, what my son wanted to keep, and then get rid of the rest.
my apartment here in Israel is very small, and though I've been here for a year already, I still have quite a few boxes that I can't unpack because I have nowhere to put the contents, which are mostly chachkis, framed art, and lord knows what else. and I do miss a lot of the things I left behind, but...that's life, and you can't take it with you when you die, anyway. so while I do hope to get myself into a situation where I can once again hang my dresses in a closet, keep my undies in a drawer, and display my lovely chachkis, I am still living with stacks of boxes cluttering up my environment. it's definitely messing with my head, but I do my best and hope for better. someday.
I hope my son has managed to clear out whatever I left behind that he wasn't interested in keeping - I'd hate to see him keeping unnecessary things around simply because he's too emotionally attached to them to just throw them in the dumpster. though I do hope he's held on to a few precious things to give back to me someday, if we ever see each other again. or just because he loves them, and will remind him of his ancestors after I'm gone.