Attempting to break the radio silence

I made a promise to myself a while back that I would not write when I was depressed. The line between therapeutic catharsis and self-destructive observation is far too easily erased when you're really deep down in it. I'm certainly too old for messy public displays of depression. Certainly. Also, I never want to be one of “those” poets/writers. You can take that as you would like.

That said-- I had a bad few weeks. The first job I had wasn't working out and I had to quit. The second job that I have isn't giving me the hours I need. I did find another job which is when things were starting to look up.

Knock on wood.

I think Nola knew she was on the verge of hurting my feelings beyond repair. In an attempt to make it up to me some great entertainment was provided this weekend. Starting with Touro Synagogues 21^st Annual Jazz Fest Shabbat. Two bands. One choir. And John Boutté.

Attending services usually creates a feeling of emotional vulnerability me. So not only is the choir and congregation wrapping me up in the emotional blanket of Friday night song, but Mr. B is belting out covers of Leonard Cohen's “Hallelujah” and Mayfield's “Please Send Me Someone To Love.” Oh man, and “You've Got to be Carefully Taught.” And the song, “All about Everything”....

I cried and cried and cried. Catharsis. Thy name is song.

I mean, I totally love being Jewish. Jazz Fest Shabbat is icing on cake at this point.

I did win tickets for a latin jazz show from WWOZ on Saturday night... but ended up not going. It was a time management issue. And I live in a city where free Jazz is sorta... a staple. Not really a sin to pass up on it. I would have had a great time if I'd gone. 

But I did I had to take a nap because I had to be bright eyed and bushy tailed at 2:30am (seriously) for a Beats Antique show at House of Blues. 

And I can't say much about the show. It's one of those situations where... you kinda had to be there.

Thankfully I recorded the finale to sort of give y'all a taste of what went down.

The sound isn't great. But to be fair, a digital camera has a hard time picking up sound from two drum sets, a drum machine, other electronic beep-bop-boop making devices and a giant sexy saxophone.

The sound in House of Blues was great. Fault my camera.

In other news.

Giant sexy saxophones get me... you know... totally hot. (The artist played clarinet too...)

The Healing Power of Bagel

For the past two hours I've been trying to write about what is happening in my life. I can't seem to articulate anything in a way that I find satisfactory.

I will summarize the past week.

Blargh. Job. Blargh. Money. Blargh. Emotionally drained. Blargh. Feel like I'm not even close to reaching my goals. Mega Blargh.

But then. Today I took myself out on a bagel/book date at my favorite deli down the street.

I feel a little better now.

There is no way around it.

My blog is going to end up being, primarily, a place for me to store and share my thoughts on converting to Judaism. 

Of course it will still contain deposits of other adventures. For instance, today I sun burned the bottom of my feet while I was sunbathing. I didn’t even know that the bottom of your feet could get sunburned. Hence, lack of tanning oil/SPF 4. In other news, I’m working on a nice Aztec Tan everywhere else. Already looking a good ten pounds lighter. 

But when I’m not sunbathing, working my butt off and reading The Source… I’m at Touro Synagogue for Friday night services, Saturday services, monthly book club, weekly Torah Study, Tea and Talmud, Jewish Journeyers and LGBTQ community support panels, or at the JCC watching film screening about Lea Goldberg, or at home reading and researching. 

Somewhere in there I’m trying to work in yoga, pilates, meditation, and keeping up with my favorite TV shows. 

Choosing to be Jewish is complicated and dashes more exhausting than what I often feel I have the stamina for. But it’s what I want, where I need to be, and exactly what I’ll have for the rest of my life.

Of course, this big of a commitment doesn’t come without a lot of complications, conflict and a crappiness of all sorts of flavors. 

Like the classic, “Once you study the Torah long enough you’ll discover that Jesus is the son of God. He is God. And our Savior.” 

Wow, OK. Well, that’s certainly one way to be SO NOT SUPPORTIVE IN THE LEAST. 

I have to learn how to deal with this overwhelming fact. From here on out my belief in God won’t be good enough for a vast (and sometimes whackily whack) population on this planet. Thankfully I’m an educated person. Thankfully my mother and grandmother wisely decided that I would attend church and Bible Study so when I did make a choice it would be a smart and heart-felt one. So you can rest assuredly that I haven’t made this choice without considering what else there is that has been offered to me.

I respectfully decline. 

Thankfully I am capable as reading between the interpretations and manipulations of literature, society and culture. Thankfully the path that I’ve chosen believes in the spiritual and social evolution of humanity. I can do that for the rest of my life. Happily allow my spirituality to reside in a place that will not apply intellectual and emotional restrictions to my life. 

So, converting… yeah. There’s going to be a lot of angst. But more action because I have a lot to learn, so much to share, and a long way to go. 

Here’s a gem of angst for you. Speaking from a literary point of view—so much of what is written in the New Testament is political propaganda and multiple author revision and a manipulation of language/translation. 

But to be fair a lot of what happens in Genesis parallels creation myths from early pagan civilizations.