Shabbat New Moon in Virgo Shalom

what do I even have to say anymore?  that I can't stand most people?  I think it's pretty apparent if you know me at all, or read this blog, though I'm not sure I've addressed it here.  so let's address it now!

1.  I'm tired of people who don't work, don't try to work, or contribute to their community in any way.  when I was raising my child as a single parent, I definitely needed help making ends meet, so I had to rely on social services (and child support payments) to keep a roof over our heads, and food on our table.  that said, I still worked, tried to work, and/or contributed to my community in various ways.  I didn't have family to rely on, though while my mom was still alive I could usually count on her to put a $50 bill in my annual birthday card, which I usually spent on myself because it was the only boost I would get for the year, and if we can't take care of ourselves, even if only in some tiny way, we can't take care of others.

2.  I'm done in with all the various 'diagnoses' and mental health challenges that people claim are preventing them from working, trying to work, or contributing to their communities in any way.  there are plenty of 'neurodivergent' folks out there who are making a living doing one thing or another without making their issues their whole personality.  I firmly believe that I exist somewhere on that 'spectrum' as well, but I've never been tested/poked/prodded to find out where, and at closer-to-60-than-50 at this point, I really don't care.  I manage to get along as best as I can, and that's good enough for me.  do I find it frustrating at times to not really seem to be able to 'get ahead' in this world for one reason or another?  you bet your bippy - but I've also learned that having a label to attach to my issues doesn't really offer any benefits that matter, or further my goals, so why bother?

3.  I don't care for people who use alcohol as their main source of 'fun' or release.  there's nothing wrong with a glass of wine/beer/liquor or two (or even three), but if it's all night every night - or worse, during the day - I think it's a problem for you, which makes it a problem for me.  by all means, drink your meals, boo boo - just don't expect me to join in, hang out, or want to be around you at all when you do, and probably not when you don't, either.  I have been a chronic pot smoker for much of my adult life with the exception of the times I couldn't afford to buy any (like now), and I don't feel the same way about people who indulge in that habit as I do about people who drink.  prejudice?  maybe.  but there's a certain kind of overindulgent pot smoker that I don't like, either.  again, if it's your whole personality rather than just one aspect of who you are, it gets a bit...much.  but like with alcohol, if you can indulge responsibly, we're probably good.

4.  I CANNOT STAND liars!  I don't appreciate being lied to, for any reason.  I would much prefer to hear a hard truth than to catch someone out in telling me something they think I want to hear.  and I will find out the truth, one way or another.  history has shown me that I can easily find out on my own if I dig just a little bit, or simply wait it out for the Universe to reveal, eventually the lie will be brought to the light, and I will distance myself from the source of that dishonesty.  

5.  I like people who are smarter and more well-adjusted than I am, though they don't usually care for the uncompromising mess that is me.  I can play along for awhile, but not for long, and eventually they will get bored of my issues, just like I'm bored of the issues of the people I no longer have patience for, so it all evens out in the end.  I used to know this guy who said the standards I hold people to are so ridiculously high, that no one can expect to tick all the boxes, and I should just get used to being alone and/or lonely.  I said that was fine, and it mostly is, because I do enjoy solitude/my own company, though it would be nice to be able to make friends a bit more easily, and keep them longer.  but the reason my standards are so high is because I'm tired of being hurt by people who lie, cheat, choose a party lifestyle over one of substance, live inside their own personal issues, or live off of others without making any attempt to contribute to their community.  

having recently moved to another country, I've been a bit fed up with only having the opportunity to interact with other recent immigrants with the exception of the folks who work in the stores I shop at, drive the buses I ride, or run the agencies I've been to in order to find work.  there are those who say I need to go to synagogue on Shabbat to meet people, but the synagogue most of the people I've met attend is for 'Anglos' who are inherently more religious than I am, and are probably not 'my people' anyway.  but you have to start somewhere, right?  the High Holidays are coming up, and while I don't think I'll be able to attend services ($$$), it might be nice to find myself invited to someone's Shabbat table sometime.  so, I keep 'meaning' to go to temple of a Saturday, but have yet to get there.  it's hard to make myself walk somewhere I don't really care to go during the the hottest part of one the days I get to enjoy the solitude of my apartment in the relative quiet and calm of an otherwise busy and loud corner of my city.

what brought this bitch on is the folks I find myself connected to on social media.  used to be, my fakebook feed was populated by people I knew and hung out with on a regular basis, or met during my travels.  or at least folks I was acquainted with through shared interests or academic connections.  but due to the rising antisemitism in the world, or perhaps the antisemitism that's always been lingering just beneath the surface of all my relationships, that online circle got much, much, smaller very quickly after October 7th, 2023.  so I tried to repopulate my feed with 'connections'...people who seemed cool in my other friends feeds, folks who left comments that made me laugh, or in some cases, people who reshared my posts without even knowing who I was.  problem with that is, we don't really have anything in common other than our Jewishness, and a shared love for Israel.  not that there's anything wrong with that, it's just that I seem to have ended up with a feed full of people whining about their disabilities, and where they are in their transitions, and I'm kind of over it.  uh oh...did I say that out loud?  well, I'm sorry, but it's true.  I am honest to god missing cis/het people in my life who have jobs that they go to on a regular basis, and simply vent about their issues and move on, not make it their whole story all the damn time.

there are people I've been connected to on there for years that have played the part of being my friend, with no actual commitment to the role, or follow-through on their part.  I did recently meet up with a few folks I met on there, and it was lovely - those folks I have no issue with.  there's one person who did invite me around, and I believe they meant it.  but then I had (yet another) bad day that I bitched about, and this one particular person sent me a message in an attempt to connect, which was kind of them, but they were someone I had been considering disconnecting from because their posts were not anything I found interesting, and didn't necessarily want to be confronted with constantly in my feed.  dude wants to be female?  go for it.  I don't need pictures.  chick wants to be a man?  go for it.  I don't need pictures.  I'm willing to accept people for who they are, whoever they tell me that is, but enough already.  at this point I'd prefer to connect with cis/het people like myself, and not have to hear about every damn flavor of human out there.  just be who you are, boo, and stop shoving it down my throat.  I mean, I'm not out here posting about being cis/het every damn day of my life - it's just not all that important.  

and I don't want to hear about how your anxiety is preventing you from getting a damn job, and forces you to live off of your generous family members.  pull up your panties and do something other than be a parasite.  if I can do it, so can lots of other people who are leaning too hard into their 'disabilities'.  or that you did sex work that you hated to earn a living once upon a time.  guess what?  I didn't like working at the video store, or the overnight shift at the 24 hour store, or as a janitor, but I Had To Pay My Rent, so I did the damn thing until I found something better, and it wasn't a husband/wife that paid all my bills for me so I could sit around and write poetry about the angle of the light hitting my designer furniture.  where's the accountability?  there are people in the homeless shelters I worked in trying harder than that, with less education and opportunity, and doing ok for themselves.  I knew a woman who had her hand chopped off and sewed back on who worked her ass off at every opportunity to keep herself off the streets.  respect, girlfriend.  it was tough out there for her.  it was tough out there for me too, with both my hands, and I've been out there enough to know I don't want to be out there again.  I guess some people haven't had to live on the streets for long enough to learn that lesson...or at all.  lucky them.

this isn't a rant about ALL disabled people, or gay or trans people, or single parents, or what have you.  it's about people who I've interacted with enough to know that I don't have an awful lot of respect for the ways they appear to be living in the world, and that's my prerogative.  I don't have to like everyone, I don't even have to like every Jewish person, or even every Israeli, but I do have to like myself, and in order to do that, I have to be honest about who I want to connect with, and how.  if you don't want to be my friend after reading this, then so be it.  is it my loss?  maybe.  depends on who doesn't want to be friends anymore after reading it.  there are plenty of gay people I love and respect.  there are plenty of folks with disabilities that I admire - some I've even worked with.  I'll bet there are trans people out there that I could get along with, too.  some cis/het people suck (lots of them do).  I'm just in a place where I need more women who understand the particular issues of having been women our whole lives.  or men who are feminists while still being manly men who aren't misogynist pieces of garbage.  folks who know what an endocrine disruptor is, and did their best to avoid them, along with other environmental dangers.

it is part of my soul's purpose here to make sure each and every one of us on this planet together is cared for, and gets everything they need, to the extent of my abilities, and I'm aware that in this 'window' of setting intentions, it is important to choose my focus wisely.  as we enter the 'wormhole' of eclipse season, we should expect chaos and transformation - and the ability to get back up from whatever happens to knock us down.  so maybe this is just my way of clearing the decks so I can tap into the hope and optimism I want so badly to connect with in the world that is also on offer just now.  while we may be headed into a complex maze of rising emotions, we are also being given an opportunity for healing, integration, and repair.  an astrologer whose work I admire speaks of planting seeds with faith, which is something I love to do, and do often.  the one picture I'm sharing in this post is of my latest sprouts, which are from a seed pod I picked up off the sidewalk, and planted, with only the vaguest idea of what they are (I think they're the seeds of the trees that made the gorgeous flowers whose petals would stop me in my tracks with a desire to paint their likeness, even though I'm not a painter).  alpha and omega, my friends.  selah ~

 

not a great picture - there appear to be seven little sprouts poking their heads through the soil, and I wish them the best of luck.  I will replant them as soon as I have more containers for them.

💙

Making Aliyah

I feel incredibly blessed to have made Aliyah on my Zayde's and my 'shared' birthdays - my flight from the States was the day after my birthday, and I landed in Israel on my Zayde's birthday.  there are so many signs pointing to this being the right thing for me to be doing, even though it's been HARD.  harder than I thought?  I can't say...I don't know if I thought about how hard it may or not have been before I left, just that going was the right thing for me to do.  and even though it's been HARD, I'm still so grateful to be here in Israel, and have no intentions of doing anything but staying, and figuring out how to make it work the way I usually do, and looking back at these HARD times from a place of gratitude and plenty.

 

 

Having booked an Airbnb for a full month, thinking I would find a job and an apartment quickly, I spent most of that time running around between ministry offices, the bank, the Hebrew school, the bus station, the health service, and various mini-markets and grocery stores.  there was a minute when I thought I had found a place, on my last day in the Airbnb, but after stringing me along for a week while adding more and more conditions to my renting the place, the landlady finally refused me.  first she wanted a co-signer, then a co-signer in Israel, then a bank guarantee, then bank records from all my bank accounts both here and in the States...it just got to be too much, and at that point, I was a week past my check out date, so had to give my hostess whatever money I had, and leave.  if I had a job, the mean landlady might have rented to me, but so far, no luck there.  I may find that to be the case with all the landlords here, but I still have to try, right?

 

 

I am proud of myself for managing to figure out the buses (in this city, anyway!), which may not seem like a big thing, but I've been living in mostly rural areas for decades, which pretty much requires a car to get around.  I sold the car about a week or so before I left, and it was tough getting where I needed to go for that time, even with my son helping me out with rides, and lending me his car when he could.  the car was also sentimental to me, as it was my mother's car that she gave to us right around the time kid became a teenager, and the one he learned to drive in.  I also lived in it for about 5 months when we first moved to Vermont, and I was having trouble finding an apartment due to the insanity of the housing crisis happening there.  I think it's fair to say the car saved my life in that particular instance, as the late Summer turned to Autumn, and I still didn't have a place by the time the snow began to fly, and the temperatures plummeted.  but that's a different story, and you can read about it in another post.

the state-sponsored Hebrew school is no joke, with classes running 5 hours a day, 5 days a week, for 5 months, and I was up for it.  I'm good at school, and even though I could only write in print like a kindergarten kid and started a week behind the rest of the class, I caught right up no problem.  I mean, my script still looks like a child's handwriting, but that will obviously improve with practice.  the issue I had there was this one highly disruptive dude in my class who was making me nuts - I know, I know, I'm an adult and should be passed such judgements or letting a thing like that bother me, but he was just so...predatory that it was making me angry that no one seemed to care, and even indulged his behaviors.  so after I made several complaints about him, I just decided to switch classes.  the new class only meets two days a week, and three days a week every other week.  at first I was bothered by that, thinking I wasn't learning fast enough going full-time, but it's also better because now I have more time for the other things I need to be doing, too.  there's a part of me that tells me I should and can be doing more, and there's another part of me that's saying what I'm doing is A Lot, and it's ok to slow down and take it in smaller chunks.  it all leads to the same place eventually.

 

 

the health service has proven to be a real challenge for me, and it took several visits to not really get anything that I needed done there.  well, that's not entirely true - my cousin did help me set up a follow-up appointment with the doctor after I couldn't make it to the one I had, and failed to navigate the phone menu in order to reschedule it, as well as scheduled an appointment with the dental hygienist after I had made one with the dentist who wasn't who I needed to see (things work a bit differently here).  the doctor's recommendations in response to the results of my bloodwork (and other tests) were somewhat disturbing, with the doctor not only insisting I double my dose of diabetes medication, but that I begin to take insulin as well, along with ordering an ultrasound of my liver and kidneys, a retinopathy, seeing an endocrinologist, a dietician, and throwing in a mammogram to boot.  it was all too much for me, so I did none of that...well, I did double the dose of the diabetes meds I already have, just because it seemed easy enough, though it has been rough on my stomach, which is already having a hard time adjusting to the poor diet I've had since arriving.  then the dental hygienist wouldn't clean my teeth because I'm diabetic, and she needed a note from the doctor, so I walked out of there, too.  maybe I'll get back to it when I'm better adjusted, but I'm struggling to get by at the moment, so I can't handle the additional stress right now.

my diet has been terrible since I've been here, and at this point, I'm subsisting mainly on cottage cheese, hummus, and crackers, with an occasional slice of pizza or falafel thrown in when I can afford it.  the kitchen at the Airbnb was outside, which isn't the worst thing in the world, even when it's windy, rainy, and cold, which it has been often enough to make it problematic for me.  it was also shared with the other guests in the house, so I couldn't always cook when I had the time to, and I didn't necessarily want to eat outdoors, either, especially when the weather was bad.  I wasn't able to plan meals that well until I found a decent grocery store, and even then, by the time I had figured out a routine for myself, my time there was up.  sad to say, I've ended up at McDonald's twice so far just for the simple pleasure of eating indoors on a cold, rainy day.  most of the pizza and falafel places have outdoor seating here, and even the slightly more upscale Italian place my cousin took me to did as well, though it was enclosed with glass so at least the customers were somewhat protected from the elements.  when I left the Airbnb for lack of funds, I ended up at the 'guest house' I'm currently writing from (for one more night) that only has a shared microwave and electric hot plate, both of which gave me large shocks when I touched them, so now I'm afraid of them both.  and the hot plate seems to come and go, as in sometimes it's there, and sometimes it's not, so even if I were brave enough to try and touch it again, I can't count on it being there when and if I want it, anyway.  but in doing my best to adjust to my surrounding, I tried to buy some microwave meals and didn't find any, though I did buy some frozen 'nuggets' - which turned out not to be chicken, but whatever 'plant based' ingredients they were composed of, and who cares, I ate them anyway - and some microwave popcorn.  ridiculous.  

 

if I could read Hebrew better, it would probably have been obvious that these weren't made with actual chicken, though when you're hungry, it hardly matters.

 

on top of that, I'm incredibly dehydrated, and my skin looks like crap.  I know it seems like self-centered whining, especially when there are currently still hostages being held, tortured, and starved by the enemies of my people, and it is.  but how am I helping them by not taking care of myself?  we 'can't pour from an empty cup', and when I feel like crap I'm no good to anyone including me.  four days ago, when I left the Airbnb, I called a bunch of contacts and organizations to tell them I only had enough money to book myself into the cheapest place I could find, and they offered to help me out by paying for a few more days, which means I'm out of here tomorrow morning.  I have no idea where I'm going yet, but I did meet with some social service type people, and when they asked me what I did for work in the US, I told them I did their jobs - working with homeless people, and the various issues that usually accompany that condition.  we'll see how far it gets me in terms of securing a paying job, and a paying job will definitely help with renting an apartment.  and an apartment would give me the ability to radically increase my water intake, and cook myself some healthy and hearty meals, which would in turn help to regulate my digestive issues.  one step at a time.

while I've been here at the 'guest house', I did manage to do the laundry that had piled up at the Airbnb, so at least the clothes in my suitcases are clean and neatly repacked, and I also got a (cold) shower this morning, which helped fix my head a bit.  also, the Airbnb was freezing cold, and the room I'm currently in has a heater, so I've been warm for the first time since I got here without having a hot flash.  I spoke with two people this morning who may have employment for me - one at the welfare department who had a decent suggestion and will get back to me after consulting with her supervisor, and another who has 6 hours a week for me at minimum wage helping someone out after their surgery.  it's not much, but it's something.  I also have a zoom meeting this afternoon with some folks from the organization that helped me get here, so hopefully they'll have some further helpful ideas, including where to stay tomorrow, and into the future.

 

 

when I get so down in the dumps like this, I tend to disconnect from the world - wanting to be alone, not talk to anyone, and wallow in the depression.  so I deactivated my Facebook account because most of the 'real' people I knew deleted me on or around October 7th, because how dare Israelis fight back when we're attacked by murderous terrorists, or during the following year and half (3000 years) of my shouting into the void about it with the only result being more disconnections.  it really kills you inside to face so much hatred, and seeing nothing but that hatred reflected back to me by the Jews/Israelis/Zionists I am connected to on social media is almost as bad as the hate we face from the rest of the world.  it's still beautiful, here.  there are still gorgeous things to see and appreciate every day.  there are plenty of positive interactions I have on the street every day, and I'm still So Glad I made the decision to come, even when it's hard.  I'll be ok eventually.  I always am.  and I'll figure out how to be of use here, because that's what I do.  I believe I'm on the right path, in the right place, at the right time.  I miss my son like crazy, and I continue to pray to my 'network' for his divine protection because that's the most important thing in the world to me - that he succeeds in walking his own path, and that I get to take some small part in it.  other than that, I'm here for my people, forever, in whatever ways they'll have me.  may I find that way soon.

💙

the landslide bringing me down

you know, I'm not much of a Stevie Nicks fan, though I've always liked the song "Landslide"...I kind of hold her responsible for millions of hippie chicks in lacy gowns thinking they can appropriate an ethnic slur against Roma people as a lifestyle and culture...but if she didn't know, she didn't know, I guess.  it's 2022 now, and we should all know better.  apologies are being made.  awareness is being raised.  it's not ok anymore (someone alert Cher, as well, please).

 

 

I watched a video this morning of Stevie singing "Landslide" in front of a video memorial for her dad who died in 2005, and of course it made me cry.  lots of things make me cry now.  used to be, I didn't cry at all, and was proud of it.  then I learned to not be such an impenetrable stone all the time and to be proud of the fact that I had enough heart and soul to cry.  then I had a baby and couldn't watch tv any more because the news made me cry...and commercials.  now, as I approach what I consider to be my 'official menopause date', I can and will cry about anything and everything, because my heart is simply broken completely open by the wisdom and humility of life (my personal Kabbalah). 

King Solomon w/birds

 

I'm dropping my son off at college tomorrow.  that's...huge.  on a number of levels.  first off, I've raised my baby alone from the moment of his conception.  I will not negate his father's contribution of the minimum amount of child support required to be in compliance with the current laws, but to be clear, his involvement truly has been minimal, for which I have apologized to my son profusely.  my son has very little family other than me - he didn't really get to know my Sapta (maternal grandmother) before she died, and has little memory of her, though he does have fond recollections of my Zayde (maternal grandfather).  my dad and his parents were long gone before my son was born, and though he had my mom in his life until she passed last year, we weren't always on good terms with her.  there was a brief minute when my brother allowed his three kids to accept their little cousin as a member of their family, but he cut what loose ties he had with me/us, irreparably damaging those relationships, and they will most likely take more work than most people care to do to repair them, so I don't have much hope that they will be.  my point is, this kid has mostly had to figure out how to be in this world on his own, with his closest non-Mom people being his guitar teacher, his show director, and his wrestling coach, in that order.  so...yeah.  a mostly solo project with some honorably mention-able supporters.

 

 

do you know how I got my son into the prestigious and expensive Paul Green Rock Academy?  I emailed Lisa Green and offered to do any number of things for her in exchange for a scholarship - write, edit, proofread, take photos, answer phones, scrub her toilet with my toothbrush.  so she agreed to a meeting with me where she explained that she had people doing all those things for her, except scrubbing her toilets, so she let me clean the building in exchange for my son's lesson and show fees.  and not only did I do everything in my power to go above and beyond for the Green's and their Rock Academy, my kid did, too.  when Paul and Lisa left, and Jason and Acacia took over the school, we didn't know if he would be allowed to continue, but they generously allowed him to stay with the program on a full scholarship until he graduated from high school.  I don't know who pulled what strings behind which closed doors in order for that to happen, but I will forever be grateful to them for that gift.

so here we are, after 18 (19 counting my pregnancy) years of this journey, in the same place we started - homeless in Vermont.  how did we get here again?  well...as a single mom making minimum wage, I can't afford an apartment anywhere in the United States on my paycheck, so I jumped at the chance to apply for a section 8 voucher, which has almost saved us from homelessness over the past decade, though not entirely.  a lot of landlords don't like doing the paperwork that section 8 requires, so refuse to rent to voucher holders, which is illegal, but there are a million ways around it.  one of which is to count on the fact that voucher holders don't have the money/time/knowledge to take them to court, and if they did, and they won, they still wouldn't have a place to live.  it's a lose-lose situation.  I had been living in Vermont for over a decade when my son was born, and when he was 3, I took a chance on moving to NY to be closer to my family...it didn't work out.  we stayed in NY for another decade and more, as we simply moved north near some friends of mine from the 'old days', though after not so long, I found myself regretting leaving Vermont at all.  

 

just one of many beautiful views in VT

 

Vermont was a dream I would return to after the boy was grown and didn't need me anymore.  Vermont was where I would go 'next', as with me, there's always a 'next'.  there were plenty of times I would have gone before now, but my son wanted to stay with his class in school until he graduated, so I stayed for him.  I cooled my hot feet and stayed put to the point of breaking, but I made it.  we still had to move fairly frequently as our rentals kept getting yanked out from under us by unscrupulous landlords raising the rent past my affordability, the State taking over the land through eminent domain, or other unscrupulous landlords taking advantage of the pandemic to sell their house/my apartment to an airbnb developer further adding to the issue of local workers not being able to find or afford housing in the communities in which they work and live...  but we managed to stay housed for a good stretch, and I did spend a good amount of time looking for apartments in VT before we pulled up roots in NY and moved, and though I wasn't able to find anything by the time we had to leave, I did have a place to land when we got here.  or so I thought.

what do you do when someone you've known for 20 years and more calls you up one day and says they're doing really well with their recovery?  that they're housed, in school, taking real steps towards getting their life back on track, and seeking employment?  what if they're really excited to hear you're coming back, and want to help support you on the way?  what if they see you not finding housing and offer up their living room as a place to call home for a minute, until you find what you need?  am I a poor judge of character?  do I make the wrong friends?  trust the wrong people?  well, let's look at my son's dad - 98% absent during the child's life, so much so, that when my young man screwed up his courage enough to ask his stranger of a father for a couch to crash on for a week (yes, dude lives here in Vermont), he wasn't overly welcoming, nor did he offer any financial help.  loser?  maybe.  I don't want to make excuses for him; I've been doing it for far too long for no good reasons, including my own pride, and his skill as a guitar player.

so our crash pad crashed and burned when it turned out my friend wasn't as in recovery as she thought she was.  she had a relapse, and used it as an excuse to behave in an abusive manner towards me.  the fact that she chose to take her relapse out on me when all I'd ever done was be a good and loyal friend to her was unnecessary and frankly unconscionable.  she's fooled me more times than it should take for someone with good self-esteem to walk away from.  and I regret letting the dreams in my head let me believe I could trust that someone was as loyal and honest as I am, though I know from years of experience that's rarely true.  I take the giving of my energy in relationship very seriously, and I'm often hurt by folks who enjoy more casual interactions, as I tend to connect pretty deeply, rather quickly.  and I'm finding that as I attempt to reconnect with folks I thought of as 'friends' here in Vermont, that I guess to them I'm more of an acquaintance, and there's been a 'no-show' of those I thought were 'my people' (some real help has come from unexpected places, too, I must confess).  so what does that tell me about moving forward here?

 

oh, these spiral paths we weave!

 

nothing I didn't already know, I guess - we're all just hurtling through space on this rock alone.  ever.  always.  and that's fine.  I'd just like to plant a flower garden, watch it grow and die, and come back again.  I want to write poems and prose, and create images.  I want to knit and sew and crochet - craft art with my hands again and be alone with the silence of late night/early morning hours.  I want to walk in nature, and be soothed.  I want to share my creations with others who create.  I want to hear from my son that he's doing well in school - that he's learning how to earn and manage money in a way that will bring him and his hoped-for future family more ease than his upbringing brought him.  "may he do better"...every parents' prayer.

 

from Isabella Rotman's This Might Hurt Studios

 

I used to travel when I was younger - just pack up my few belongings and my cat, and live on the road in my car.  it was a lovely lifestyle when planned for.  falling houseless because of broken systems built to keep women like me down is less fun, but again - can be navigated smoothly by people like myself who are wise in the ways of travel.  when I have to drag an unwilling and angry teenager and his fancy cat along?  it can get really tough, but I'm using All the tools in my kit to keep us buoyant in proactive ways, while doing my best to organize these experiences with my overtaxed mind to share with people in a way that encourages them towards helping me out financially.  I need help paying for gas, insurance, storage, cat supplies, and whatever my son may need for college that we didn't already think of, and for pet-friendly hotels/motels/b&b's/accommodations until I can find housing.  I'm really good at writing, editing, proofreading, and reading tarot cards.  please feel free to ask me to perform any of those tasks for you in exchange for any monetary donations.  we can work out a value together.  let me know how I can help you help me.

thanks ~

my paypal:  https://www.paypal.com/paypalme/mysteriamb

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"Gawtcha"

Feeling a need to visit with Brian Froud and Jessica Macbeth's The Faeries' Oracle, but not having a deep connection to the deck or knowledge of how to work with it, I went with my gut and playfully swirled the whole deck out in front of me in a pile and picked a random card from the center with no more of a question in my mind than a general read, and to meet the fae who chose to greet me.  I drew Gawtcha -  who appealed to me right off because they're blue, with sticks poking out of their spiky hair.  I like their slender fingers and pointy ears, and the way their large, curious eye is peering out from behind an elegant hand.  so I was surprised to read "Sudden shock.  Unexpected events.  Rude Awakenings" in the card description, suggesting any number of possible disasters - car trouble, money trouble, other kinds of trouble - while also acknowledging the possibility of a small windfall (not all luck is bad luck - good things smack us in the back of the head out of the blue, too).

on one level, this card is telling us we need/are due for a cosmic smack, because we still haven't learned to trust our instincts, and that we have to regain our balance more quickly when those destabilizing experiences come along - we also need to be cautious not to lose ourselves in them, good or bad.  the card scared me in the sense that it speaks of upheaval, of shaking up staid structures we build in our consciousness and realities, and even though I complain about a lot of the mundane aspects of my life (just like everyone else),  I've lived such a transient existence that I hardly manage to get any kind of routine going before circumstance comes along to tear it down, so my first reaction was, "nooooo, I've barely recovered from the last 'growth' I went through," and all Gawtcha sees is the ungrateful recipient of their kind and generous gifts (it's hinted that the poor faerie numbs the pain of our human indifference with strong drink, as evidenced by their bloodshot eye).  on the other hand, there are a great many 'staid structures' in our modern world that could do with some 'upheaval'.

while "the sudden, often violent, breakdowns of existing structures, habits, patterns, and/or attitudes" (from the Oracle guidebook) in the summer of 2020 is a long overdue conversation that America has been needing to have with itself for Far too long, the card (or the fae energy associated with it) also speaks to my personal journey of being "confined by our own self-imposed limitations that may include the desire for comfort and security", and how we can grow into our liberation once we manage to break through those barriers.  we are encouraged not to fall back on our old ways, but to build something new with the pieces, and to leave room for future additions.

being who I am (human - it's a function of our minds that we imagine catastrophe so we have a chance to survive it when it strikes), I went to the dark side immediately and thought "oh no, I hope I don't get hurt while running!"  then just as quickly chided myself for even thinking such a thing, and wondered what kind of positive surprise might be lurking around the corner...a second stimulus check?  universal basic income?  but the specter of dark tiding had been there, lurking in the back of my mind, and it was a certain kind of week.  I had setbacks, unexplained (or unnecessary) cancellations, financial inconveniences and pressures, I had two 'bad runs' in a row and a slew of aches and pains...but I also received a surprise gift from a kind friend that brought me much joy.  so what is this card telling me really?

"let your baggage go.  find your balance, and keep moving forward.  you have all the information you need to proceed, and ample experience in this world to know how to 'roll with it'.  you will rise to every challenge, even though the suddenness with which they descend may be alarming.  it's a necessary evil that must be navigated to learn and grow, and increase your ability to hold space for further understanding.  welcome the opportunity with grace, and it might leave you a little less worse for wear."  that's my personal interpretation.  in my life right now, I've been making great strides towards moving into that new consciousness, challenging myself to leave the baggage where it lies, and take up my own best interest as a guidepost to finding my way through the discomfort and insecurity of setting my former self alight (again) to create new work from the ashes.  the same goes for our larger world - each of us is responsible for finding our new place within that discomforting insecurity that helps our friends and neighbors rise up, and to roll with any upheaval as a growing process that needs to break a few things to break through a few things.  if you're low on supply, remember how beautiful a Phoenix can be, give it what it needs to thrive, and it will bring you along for the ride!  good luck, seekers, and be safe out there!

💙  💜  💙

National Indigenous People's Day of Mourning vs. American Thanksgiving vs. Something Else Entirely

what an eye-opening visit I had with an old 'friend' recently - probably someone I'll be crossing off my list of people to visit when I have free time to play with in town!  as we've had more than enough Universal signs pointing to this being an important year for all of us to sever ties that don't serve us as we journey ever more fully into ourselves, it also comes as a staunch reminder of how the community I live near is decidedly toxic for me, and how I need to really and truly let go of any remaining connections I had to a small circle of people I used to know who also migrated to this area from other locales.  here's the set-up:  I tend to stop in uninvited to this particular person's house every few months, and just this week, I ended up having about 2.5 hours unaccounted for in my schedule as my commitments took less time than I thought, so I took the opportunity to do a little visiting.  was that my first mistake?  leaving unaccounted time in my schedule?  or stopping by someone's house uninvited?  here's what I puzzled out about it when considering how I would feel if that person (or any person I considered a friend or closer acquaintance) showed up at my door uninvited at 5:30pm; it might be a bit weird, initially, as it's dark this time of year, and everyone is so up into their electronic devices (and who even goes visiting anymore other than me), but I would invite them in, and into whatever activity I was involved in at the time.  the people I had dropped in on appeared to be watching a program or video that they shut off when I showed up, and when I asked what they were watching, they said it was something about whether or not the national November holiday - which many people still refer to as "Thanksgiving", and I call "National Indigenous People's Day of Mourning" - is racist.  "Ah!"  I said, "that's a hot issue, now, isn't it?"  and asked them what they do during the 'holiday', and why.

"you guys mind if I chill here for a few hours?"

for them, like for many people, it's a day of the year when families have traditionally gotten together for generations, to eat particular foods, and enjoy each other's company - an innocuous harvest festival, for the most part, celebrated by many people for both secular and religious reasons, across a range of dates.  so how and when did it become so politicized?  turns out, the American holiday is rooted in English Christian tradition, dating back to religious rifts in the church during the 16th century, mostly as a way to replace the ever-increasing number of 'holy days' on their calendar (and probably limit the amount of time servants had to be allowed to attend services).  these early 'feasts of thanksgiving' were usually celebratory responses to a victory in battle, or some other event where folks just felt like being thankful to whatever god/s they worshiped, and the colonizers of the United States brought this tradition along with them in their bag of tricks when they violently took over the Native Americans' land.  there is still much debate over where and when the first thanksgiving feast was held in America, with claims of a Spanish religious service being held in what is now Florida as early as 1565, and the ones in Virginia (1619) and Massachusetts (1621) being the famous misrepresentations for our current narrative, which had their respective histories whitewashed for generations, leaving out the parts that showed the settlers to be brutal murderers, and promoting the nonsense that has been taught in American schools ever since (that the Pilgrims and Natives shared a lovely meal, and everyone lived happily ever after - except not).  there was a feast of thanksgiving held after the Continental Congress enacted the Constitution in 1787, and the 'first national thanksgiving' was proclaimed by George Washington in November of 1789.  it makes me wonder about that supposed separation between church & state that was written into our Constitution just two years earlier, and even though it was considered a secular event, the name of 'god' was invoked in order to further push the agenda that all success was due to 'outside forces', which must surely indicate the spiritual superiority of the 'victors', and so must be acknowledged by showing gratitude to said 'higher power'.  apparently, some politicians from back in the day agreed with me about that particular hypocrisy, and some even saw it as an unwelcome declaration from 'the North', indicative of the long history of regional tensions between those above and below the Mason-Dixon line (the demarcation line between Maryland and Pennsylvania, showing the boundary between states that allowed slavery, and states that didn't, in 1767) .

depiction of the Pequot Massacre, 1637

all that said, "Thanksgiving" in its current iteration was midwifed by Abraham Lincoln in 1863 (in the midst of the Civil War), after decades of Ms. Sarah Josepha Buell Hale hounding everyone in government to do so via letters, and publishing poems, stories, and recipes that supported her vision for a national holiday in the popular 'ladies magazine' she edited.  it was only in 1941 when FDR - in a bid to extend the holiday shopping season - signed the resolution to establish the current date (the fourth Thursday in November) as a federal holiday across the entire US that we eventually arrived at the modern 'celebration' we know and love/loathe today, depending on your perspective.  for the above-mentioned 'friend' I dropped in on, it has been a day for them, as a parent to several children with different partners, to have all their kids (and sometimes one or more of the partners) together in one place, for a hearty meal.  and there's nothing wrong with that, is there?  for me, being 'cut off' from my family of origin the way I am, there are NO holidays that I celebrate with any blood relatives other than my own child, so I don't really care about That particular aspect of the traditional feast...also, being Jewish, I have no connection to any English or Christian feast or fast days, and the Jewish harvest festival of Sukkot happened back in mid-October, and is celebrated with foods and rituals indigenous to the Middle-East (though living in America, we do include indigenous American foods in our practices).  my people emigrated to the US from Europe in order to escape religious persecution in the same way the early settlers and colonists claimed to, the difference being that we didn't rape and murder millions of indigenous people, or force our religion onto them, in order to do it.  we were running from our own genocide, to be sure, yet I am well aware of how assimilated Jews have contributed to the racist and oppressive systems that continue to pervade our institutions, systems, and relationships - it's hard to be well-educated, and not accept that reality, however hard it may be to recognize our complicity.  in any case, this "American Thanksgiving" wasn't something my Romanian/Romani/Israeli father was overly familiar with, and I think that's why it hardly registers to me as anything other than a break in the school year, or a day off of work (if you're lucky enough to work at a job that doesn't require your presence for the gross display of mass consumption everything in America has become).

maybe give a little bit of yourself - take time to play a game with your family at home during the 'gift-giving' season.  bake cookies, make art together, sing songs, make memories by engaging in enriching activities together...

as a young adult living on my own, I never bothered with the national Thanksgiving holiday - I hardly had an oven to cook a meal in, let alone all that 'traditional' nonsense.  I usually had to work, or was happy to have a day off to catch up on some sleep!  during the years that I had a 'home' to go to, it became the horrible emotional roller-coaster for me that it is for many who are less than welcome at family gatherings for myriad reasons.  in my case, one of those reasons was my growing moral imperative to address the feast as the impetus for the genocide it became for the people whose stolen land I feel duty-bound to acknowledge we live on, even though my mother's people came here to avoid similar fates in their own lands (my dad's people went to Israel, and later to Canada - another nation with much the same issues as the US in regards to the indigenous people who live there).  social media can also make it harder, serving up a stream of pictures of people gathering together with loved ones, while I'm home alone with my kid, trying not to internalize the feeling of there being something inherently 'wrong' with us because no one wants us at their table - not that I'd feel good about going anywhere other than a memorial service for the murdered...  once I became aware of the true story of the colonial-settler-genocide this day commemorates, I couldn't in good conscience 'celebrate' anything about it, and in lieu of any local non-colonial-settler-genocide commemorations to attend (that I am aware of), my tradition with my son has become to light a yahrtzeit candle (Jewish memorial candle) in honor of National Indigenous People's Day of Mourning, wherein we eat whatever we feel like eating, and watch Native American centered movies.  when the rest of the national consciousness catches up with my understanding of how horribly the marginalized original people of this land feel about the 'celebrations' of their attempted murder, maybe I'll celebrate that.  I know change takes time, and I look forward to when it comes for this holiday (and many others like it).  it has nothing to do with me, and I don't need it.

this is where I got the name 'National Indigenous People's Day of Mourning'.  they've been trying to get us to notice these issues since the beginning of my life - I think it's time more of us listened to them.

so what does any of that have to do with my dropping in on someone who has to ask whether or not the day of feasting is racist?  well, I have a little bit of a problem with people who can't see past their own desires to continue to whitewash history, especially when they're the kind of people I expect to know better, because of their self-proclaimed 'advanced spiritual mindset' (remember that point from earlier in this essay?  how the colonizers saw themselves as being favored by their 'god' because they mostly succeeded in their murderous endeavors?).  I mean, how can you claim to be more 'spiritually-advanced' than the next guy, when the next guy is a Native American telling you how they feel on the third Thursday of every year while watching white people continue to eat the traditional foods they themselves have been disconnected from, while inventing narratives about what good friends we all were back in the day, before the colonizers tried to kill them all?  sure thing, man - take some more ayahuasca, and appropriate some more cultural ceremonies that aren't yours to claim (hint:  if the cops and paramedics get called out to your 'ceremony', perhaps you're doing it wrong).  for sure - I get having a day when you get to have all your kids together at once, but think about why you get that, why you need that, and what information you're passing on, given the opportunity to have a family discussion around sensitive, yet ultimately important, issues.  look into where your own family traditions come from, and decide whether or not they're worth carrying on.  look into your own ancestral history, and see if there isn't a celebration that makes more sense for you to connect with.  make up your own holiday, and share that with your family!  or take a moment to honor the people who died so you could have a place to spread your whiteness around.  yeah, I know...I'm white too, but I do my part to call out my fellow Jews and Roma on these points as well.  and there's plenty of stuff I get wrong and need to correct for - this just doesn't happen to be one of them.  aside:  also, I'm pretty sure people who are ever so spiritually enlightened ought, in my opinion, be more actively involved in promoting inclusivity through building community, rather than practicing exclusivity based on jealousy and petty rivalries, or socioeconomic status.

quote from a great article I read in Bitch media's Travel issue last summer - read the full piece here.

as to me turning up unannounced, etiquette begs several questions, and the mixed signals I got from the person in question wouldn't help me answer them, though I'm smart enough to figure it out on my own.  first off, I have known this person for 30 odd years, through two of their relationships (one with another former friend), and all through most of their children's lives.  I am often received with a hug, and a "come on in", though this last time I got the feeling I wasn't welcome.  if that was the case, I would have expected this person to know me well enough and/or feel comfortable enough to tell me it wasn't a good time, that they simply weren't in the mood to receive guests, or that they would prefer if I called before dropping in (or even that they would prefer I didn't drop in at all).  none of those responses would have hurt my feelings, and I would have found some other way to amuse myself for the 2 hours I had left to wait to pick up my son from his rehearsal.  the bottom line is that the mood in the room began to feel awkward at the first conversational lull, and their body language made it obvious that they wanted to be doing other things.  I asked if it was ok for me to just stay while they 'did their thing', as it was cold out, and I didn't have anywhere else to go, to which they responded in the affirmative, but again, I felt weirdly unwelcome, so I chose to leave after a bit anyway.  there are plenty of reasons for me to recognize that this is a relationship better left in the past, and virtually none to support continuing it, hence it is ended.  again, moving forward, I'm only going where I'm celebrated, not where I'm barely tolerated.  of my labeling the town as toxic to me, I'm referencing the few people I know who live there, and make overtures of friendship, yet act in ways that are the opposite of what I consider friendly behavior, regularly.  not only that, one of them recently got angry when I mentioned that I had stopped trying with them, because they always find a last-minute excuse not to meet up, then don't make an attempt to reschedule...if that doesn't say "I don't want to hang out with you", I don't know what does!  so the onus is on me to do a better job of scheduling my time there fully, or making sure I have somewhere to be if I happen to have an hour here or there between scheduled plans because something didn't take as long as I thought it might.  I'd take it personally, but since the advent of cell phones and laptops, people just don't seem as interested in spending time with each other as they used to, which I think is a shame, because I like to visit with my friends, and take inspiration from the conversations we have, and appreciate the ways in which live interaction deepens our connections.  guess I'm just weird like that ~




sources:

https://www.archives.gov/legislative/features/thanksgiving

https://time.com/4577082/thanksgiving-holiday-history-origins/

https://www.businessinsider.com/history-of-thanksgiving-2017-11

https://www.britannica.com/topic/Thanksgiving-Day

https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thanksgiving

Dreams: 11.26ish.19

did I run into 'ex-boyfriend #3' at some fancy hotel place?  or did my friends orchestrate it?  but there he was, and it was freaking me out.  it made me so insecure, but also curious.  he tailed us for awhile, made sure I saw him, but didn't approach.  I went back to my room or wherever, and got a call to come down, or went to meet my friends...I don't know, but he was interested.  too interested.  why?  what did he want?  he was cool and calm about my apprehension, pursued me across what felt like days.  it was his place...I couldn't get away, because he kept offering more and more for free.  some jewels, a hair stick, whatever I wanted.  I agreed to meet him.  we talked, I asked after his mom (he/they were obviously on my mind because of that last post).  was there a reason he was called away?  did I get a chance to see him acting in some fashion that made me see him for who he was?  it wasn't Me he was after, just some unfinished creeper business (last night's conversation with a friend about past relationships).  I ran up a staircase hung with metal items that caught at me, up to a big window that showed the dark night outside, and the gentle rain.  I ran.  I ran to edge of wherever I was, to a grassy field, with some fancy green writer's retreat type cabins (stopping in at our 'old place' yesterday) next to it, and I realized he owned it all - that something about that field made me realize his plan, and my place in it.  that I was going to go into one of them, and write a book.
---
someone or something in my current life is bringing up feelings similar to the ones I felt in that relationship - a freer and less encumbered time where the responsibilities of adulthood did not interfere with the spontaneity of romance - but I've moved on, and it's time to have new relationships.  there are neglected aspects of my personality that need attention in order to resolve myself towards moving on.  instead of putting up a facade/hiding my true self/trying to divert attention to unimportant things, there is a new state of mind or shift in personal identity - a transition, a moving away from old habits, and old ways of thinking.  aspects of my personality that I have rejected are ready to incorporate and acknowledge some positive news.  also shows unhappiness with the amount of friends that I have right now, as I want to feel accepted by others, though I'm not necessarily comfortable with that situation because I need to get to know people before I trust them.  in refusing to acknowledge a certain viewpoint or idea, or someone trying to make me conform to their ideals (a particular aspect of me, or a relationship), I'm feeling somewhere between satisfied and repressed.  bringing myself closer to the feminine, or opportunities I may have.  messages from my subconscious, or telepathy about confronting issues I've been avoiding, indicates the difficulty I'm having with communication, and relationships with others.  I'm also rewarding and recognizing my giving and generous nature, which I hold in high esteem.  I know my value, and I'm proud of myself, and in knowing my self-worth and good traits (in terms of status, personal value, knowledge, identity, and qualities I hold precious), I need to acknowledge the importance of spiritual and psychological riches, and incorporate those corresponding qualities.  in bringing awareness to hierarchy, authority, and charm in my life, as well as clues to relationships and status, I also bring a refusal to be tied by the neck, or have a self-inflated ego.  I am open to new ideas, and always ready to show a new me - I am loyal, vital, devoted, and manage to overcome negative feelings.  I treasure my attributes and values, as I have high expectations.  the way I find resolution to a conflict or problem shows my subconscious working in accordance with my consciousness, which is suggesting that I should redirect myself towards more productive endeavors, and that I need to further accept and incorporate various aspects of Self.  my fear of abandonment, added to the feeling of not measuring up to expectations, are factors in my long-term trust and/or self-esteem issues.

I'm leaving behind what is hindering my growth - unresolved childhood issues, feelings of neglect/being overlooked, and a need for more support and security.  there is more inner-child work to be done.  there are issues I'm trying to avoid, or actions I'm not taking or accepting responsibility for - such as facing or confronting my fears.  I could also be showing determination in going after what I want.  there is evidence to suggest I am emerging from a negative or depressed situation (a higher level of understanding, rational thinking and objectivity, holding myself in high regard).  there is change and transformation.  I am achieving the higher levels; making spiritual, emotional, and material progress.  my strength and character lead me through the inhumane sides of society, which also suggest a healthy libido and sexual desire.  I feel let out of a stuck situation, and though I am still somewhat blocked or trapped in my perception or vitality, I remain open to new experiences.  my point of view/outlook on life/consciousness (my intuition and awareness) find me reflecting on a decision about something that frightens me (the unknown), or that I'm not ready to face, as I appear unclear on how to move forward.  while I may suffer major setbacks and obstacles, death begets rebirth, reflection, and new beginnings.  the mysterious and dark unconscious...a yearly crisis that requires deep and painful sacrifice before enlightenment.  more calling out for integration.  renewal, devotion, love, and rebirth balanced by depression, sadness, built up emotion.  forgiveness and grace is what's needed - tears crying sadness/vs./fertility and renewal.  spiritual ideas and insights are being brought to my awareness (fortune and love).  there is a need to 'hurry up and act', even though I'm anxious about the situation at hand - time is running out.  it's possible an achievement or goal has been reached; that bad times are ending, and something new is beginning (great abundance, freedom and happiness, a period of personal growth).  though there's a part of myself I can always rely on for natural protection, I tend to look at what others have (grass in greener) through the lens of envy and lust.  on the one hand, I'm reading symbols of positive change, such as good health, growth, vitality, healing, hope, fertility, vigor, peace, serenity, a big "go" sign, environmental consciousness, money, wealth, and a striving to gain recognition and establish my independence.  on the other hand, I am also inexperienced  and can similarly read less positive symbols such as jealousy, materialism, deceit, difficulty sharing, and a need to balance my male/female energies. there is a desire for a simple home/life/situation.  in terms of my own soul/self, I seem concerned with outward appearances, though in entering a new phase with more emotional maturity, I'm also dealing with feelings of rejection/insecurity/being left behind.  I am driven by a need to express thoughts, free association, bringing the unconscious to the surface (communicating with others or my own conscious mind), or refers to an error in judgement or mistake that that I've made.  I may need to learn something new (what I need to examine), which may represent my calling to a specific field of work, or an area that I need to devote more study to.

---

and more of the same last night - not an ex-boyfriend, but some nebulous man-character.  perhaps a hook-up, perhaps the boy, even?  dismissing me, after having a night or so of fun.  college environment, so it was in front of others where I was being dismissed and embarrassed, belittled and hurt.  packing a backpack for a camping trip, while dude made it abundantly clear we were done (recent loss of people I had thought of as friends).

---

these dreams are about moving on, and about meeting the kinds of people who are already aligned with the consciousness I have developed over the years through a deep knowing of Who I Am, and What I Am Worth - which comes from my connection to a deep spirituality, and commitment to doing the serious and important (and sometimes painful) work of growing into higher and higher consciousness.  I have always been inspired by those around me, and at the moment, I don't have enough (or the right) people in my life to inspire me towards my goals.  I'm picky about who I allow near, because of deep childhood wounds, but I keep moving forward all the same, learning and growing.  some aspects of being a parent have brought up old wounds, and in being able to look at them, and speak (or write) about them, helps me heal from them, and move more gracefully into the life I want.  there is more work to be done (always), as I'm out here doing it on my own, unsupported...especially during this time of the year.  this constant renewal, and a recognition that my son will be looking to move away from me soon, makes me anxious for the decisions we will both need to be making in the near future, but I can and should be confident in my ability to make them for myself, and help him with his, even though I feel I've failed myself in the same situations in the past.  I often feel as if I had just played by society's rules and found a partner to hitch my wagon to, I'd have the security of the homes and relationships that I constantly witness from the outside, that look as if they would have given me a solid platform from which to succeed.  I'm also smart enough to know that I can reach a modest level of success without compromising my values and ideals, and that I can, and will, always continue to learn what it is I need in order to achieve what I desire.