Tis' the Season and a Political One Too.

Yesterday, I was walking through the mall looking for gifts for my kids and partner. I came upon one of those signs you hang on a door or wall. On the top, it said "Family" in big bold letters, underneath that it said "Happy Holidays" and underneath that it said "Because Two People Fell in Love" and at the bottom "I (heart) my Family (heart) My Home". It all seems so simple. Except it's not.

My dear friends, family and fellow citizens I really don't want to sound like Scrooge but good thoughts and compassion are not enough. If you are living in NY and it's December you gotta make a call to your Senator telling him or her you support Family Equality and the right of same-sex partners to marry. You better believe that lots of people who are against it are telephoning in their "There's no room at the Inn" perspective. Hey guys, it's not about being right or feeling right, it's about doing right. This season, you want to actually give some Peace and Joy to a whole lot of loving people --make the call.

September's Siren Song

I'm back after almost 6 months of the"I really gotta" thought traps regarding my effort to blog very intelligently. But once I gave up on the thought of intelligently and went with honestly, at least for the moment, it was easier. In addition, today my kids returned to school. The surrounding quiet feels like the homecoming of a very missed personal coziness. The truth is I, too, am a forever child of the academic calendar and always think one should really start things in September.



We all had a great summer, much travel, grownup conversation and argument, kid conversation and argument, dancing, meeting new people, joking with old friends, still learning new things growing up and growing older. I was very aware of choosing to be in beautiful spaces and places of family and friends that are essential to my psyche and soul. I and we are very lucky.



The time since my last post has also been quite the personal and political journey for me. My reactivity to the politic and politics represented in this country initiated a binary coup of personal withdrawal and feelings of blinding aggressiveness. How could they think that? When is he gonna? They are Neanderthals. Give me a break, this is sooo stupid. That did it, remember who put you in office. Us and them and the forgotten minority. Does any of this sound familiar? Fact is any of the us and them could say the same things. So I've been working on this thought as a new paradigm for myself and it keeps me more present.



It is for me just another way of caring for my own psyche and soul. I think that what we all express is a function of our present experience, often lacking awareness in the moment, and often a defense against our awareness of it's truth. (Now I am not saying rightness- I am saying truth) When I can hold this idea, then I can stay present for another. This is where I believe the possibility of intelligent and broad meaningful change will come.



I think this is so important to heal the splitting occurring in this country now. Did I know this before? Yes. But I really feel I must bring it to mind again and again. It is a way for me to embody a thoughtful compassion that makes for a truer relationship to what is. And it is from this place that things are negotiable; a space so much more alive and creative than mere compromise.

My Favorite Civics Teacher

Before I was a registered Democrat and was merely voting in elementary school for class president, I fell in love with American History and Social Studies. I am guessing in the generation before me they may have called it Civics.

I think I may have to come out of the closet here and admit some things. The easy stuff is to mention that I was a (even then I was the "older") child of the 60's. In true rebel fashion I demonstrated against the war in Vietnam, marched and wrote for gay rights, reproductive freedom and anti-discrimination. I joined the War on Poverty for way too many years and ran the US Flag on my van antenna upside down. Seems like the generic biography of the times. What may not be so generic in the crowd I ran, danced and sang freedom songs with was that ever since I was a teenager I always owned, but often hid from plain sight (it not being a cool thing) an "authentic reproduction parchment copy of the US Constitution and the Bill of Rights". To this day the spirited genius of those documents remain awe inspiring to me. Those that knew me well enough back in the day could whisper to my face, "Ya know, ya got a little streak of John Wayne in ya" but they had no fear of me voting for Goldwater or walking in the Duke's funny way either (Remember always La Cage a Folle).

To say I've been sub-registered in the under the covers malcontent party for years is probably an understatement, but with and since the primaries, the fire came back and it all changed. I became a CNN junkie and was obsessed, and I do mean obsessed, with the game of politics. It was maddening and invigorating and hopeful and righteous and meaningful ... heroic and social. But that has changed too. And it changed for me when my computer and I took part in the White House Online Town Hall Meeting. It was the first live video stream from the White House using questions for the President devised and voted on by everyday folk or at least everyday folk with access to computers. Yes, I know that the Republican cohort will likely say that this was just as much a part of the political game of one-up-manship and I do get that point. But this event touched something much deeper.

It was the stuff of 21st century civics in the USA. Many may not remember, but those of my generation will remember an early television program, in black and white I might add, called "YOU ARE THERE". In this program the viewers would see a key event in history say George Washington leading the troops into the battle of Valley Forge or the Continental Congress getting ready to debate. The scene would be acted out in period costoms and an unseen TV narrator would interrupt the characters with probing questions that made history and it's meaning come alive for the viewer. Technology as well as the valuing of intelligence and education supported the idea that American citizenship was something that once was and could be lived in real time.


During that Online White House Town Meeting on the Economy, as President Obama listened and spoke to those questions that matter to the people, oh so intelligently explaining the underpinnings, focus, interelationships and goals of his administrative vision he became my new favorite civics teacher, right there in real time. And like all good civics teachers he invited us to take responsibility and think on our own about our country as well as ourselves. He encouraged us to be present for history in the making. But mostly he reminded us that We, the people are really still here.

Life on the Road

This photograph (copyright Shelley RK Glick) is a picture of my kids on an amusement ride during a recent trip to Arizona. They are twin 11 year old girls and the center of my world no matter how many circles I find myself traveling in. I smiled when I saw this picture in the back of my camera, but it was the kind of smile where you don't part your lips, your bottom lip pushes up a bit so that the corners of your mouth go down and a little puff of air seems to blow out of your nostrils. I've also been known to offer a softened and simultaneous sigh on these same occasions. This odd facial manifestation is usually the result of some sort of deep recognition, sometimes arcane and to be dealt with later and sometimes, like this one,whose clear meaning you are all too happy to resist.


I got it. Someday, not so far away, these heifers will indeed be riding off into the sunset and my watery eyes begged the question; Am I ready...well, not so much. Yes, I know the stuff that is meant to pass for relief giving wisdom shared and written in magazines--ie. This ultimate heartbreak is why you parent in the first place; to be able to send them off to fight the good fight, to earn a good living and G-d willing, to do both. And after swallowing that we go on to read about the Empty Nest, The Need to Reinvent Oneself or Fall in Love with Your Partner Again, How They Never, Never Really Leave.....etc. etc. That is, if one makes it through the teen age years intact and is still willing to read anything about the family, mythical or otherwise, ever again.


But what is not talked about often enough and what this picture brings to my mind, heart and soul is the healing and wholeness these crazy making, button pushing, and sometimes Dark Angels offer to bring to us-- time and time again. And if we miss this opportunity to do the personal and spiritual work that enables us to leave ourselves open and and sometimes vulnerable we miss what we knew to be G-d's gift on the day they were born or whatever day it was we might have found each other.


The parenting relationship is surely not the road for everyone. But for me it is and has been a true and appreciated gift. Family life challenges us every day to really deal with present reality. I feel freer, richer and more joyous than I ever was or could dream of being before I had kids-these kids. Most of the hurting and suffering that gets in our way comes from our own individual history, the choice then really simply boils down to either Heal or Hurt, both yourself and those you love. To take on the challenges and enable yourself to heal, physically, mentally, emotionally and spiritually is the highest obligation of any relationship and particularly that of parenthood. And yes, I like everyone else still blow it and need to drop a nickel in the mythological jar for my own kid's future healing because that too is a simple thing that boils down to that's just life on the road, kiddo.

Crossing The Street

The Israeli-Palestinian Conflict/War had me doing a slow immobilizing churn in deep gut territory.
It was Marty Kaplan's excellent but hard hitting post "Eyeless in Gaza" on http://www.huffingtonpost.com/ that moved me to get off my tuchas and ask myself the question; where is my honesty in all this when I can see both sides? Which led, to the realization that honesty has absolutely nothing to do with the truth, just truthfulness, and it's time to travel a road whose signposts where sunk in the Bronx.

Growing up as a East Bronx Jew in the 50's meant being touched by a generation who realized and remembered the strength and beauty of the ghetto/neighborhood. As a result, a couple of perks included kids hearing English peppered with colorful Yiddish phrases and commands and that you could ask any adult or responsible teenager to "cross" you at any time. " Cross me" was Bronx speak for take me across the big street to the other side. In my neighborhood the big street was Bronx Park East and on the other side did in fact lay the massive Bronx Park. It was acknowledged as an exceptional rite of passage, more meaningful to a kid than a bar mitzvah when you were able to to "cross yourself" (remember, it is Bronx speak). Before however, you could enter the delightful freedom of the park, you always had to pass, like a one sided gauntlet, The Benches.

The Benches that surrounded the park was where the women sat. The women, mostly mothers and grandmothers sat to gossip, discuss, argue, support each other and watch--absolutely everything. As the guardians of custom and culture in a post Holocaust community, the fledgling Israel was a big deal even if you did not identify as a Zionist. It's unqualified support was enmeshed with the teachings of survival of a people and never to be questioned. To speak otherwise was clearly a betrayal and threatened the safety of this and every other existing Jewish community. Somehow it became part of the first law of survival and to be understood, like all laws of survival, in the bone.

Survival lesson one. The truth? No. Is there truthfulness in my knowing this? Yes. Do I understand survival in my bone differently? Definitely. Does my view and expectation for the the people of Isreal and Gaza to exist in safety feel more embodied now? Yup. Signing petitions along with others to stop the fighting somehow did not offer the sought after freedom from narrow views, dogmatic assumptions, circular reasoning, as well as a stomach churning guilty conscience. The blogosphere is many things for many people. For me it allowed me to "cross by myself".

My Lesson for a Missed Friend

This morning I started to take down the Holiday Tree (we confess to being spiritually eclectic Jewish Americans with an interfaith partnership and intergenerational household) which brought into hindsight this three week period of bad Northeast weather, cabin fever amongst the already mentioned inter-faith and generational hoard, the company of additional loved ones, a fever-threatening strep outbreak which resulted in a failure to launch them back to school, and recognition, of how much I missed my friends who moved to Tucson and weren't part of the prodigal loved ones who came to us upon a midnight dreary.

While the holiday season comes about like clockwork it still seems to be for me, at least, a time that I always get knocked off my personal center. The increased amount of bodies I have to vie with for space and for longer periods of time, the constant sounds of someone else's voice and activity, the failure of the Networks to put on even one new episode to rivet my ass to the blissful experience of non presence, really screws up my "om" moments that might leave me better prepared for managing the increase in stress. This year while attempting to read Rabbi Rami Shapiro's The Sacred Art of Lovingkindness Preparing to Practice, which is an excellent book by the way, I can't begin to tell you the foul thoughts I had with each demanding whine for more time on the Wii.

But there is more to this post than just my own complaining and whining. I miss my friend of 30 years and not because we are lousy telephone buddies. The telephone just couldn't make it anyway. When she lived close by we would have these intense, wonderful and rich psycho-spiritual conversations for hours and I really do miss it. But that is not what I most miss most. I miss the times we sat in silence in each other's company before, during and after one of these discussions. A friend of mine named Francis, who was a true scholar and researcher said that she felt the preciousness of her relationship with her partner, in the act of "simply being able to work in her presence". To deeply know this is so different than pounding away in a gray cubical next to the person you are going to go to have lunch with at noon. It is, in fact, knowing you are truly and uniquely blessed. I know our friendship is a deep blessing and as I sit in silence pondering that thought, I fall into the preciousness of that intimacy and the eternal presence of friendship; a lesson well remembered for a missed friend.

This is a very special unspecial day

I am 63 but it's not my birthday. In fact there is really nothing special about this day other than I feel like Doogy Houser as I see these little letters crawl across the page. If you were 63 you too might know who Doogy Houser was. Probably though (I wasn't a real fan of this show), I might have more in common with him than I care to admit. He spilled his new found wisdom, profundities and compelling endurance at the shows end every week. I thought I might do the same here except he was 16 and I am way past that even if we reverse the numbers so it should be somewhat different, eh?.
But just as his weekly commentary on life as demonstrated by the aforementioned moving letters, was an attempt to make timeless sense of a life lived even if only 1/2 hour a week, so this day I too set virtual type to virtual paper and try to make sense out of my world. The fact is at 63 the idea occurs to me that it is likely just as much a commentary on a made up story just like Doogy Houser' script or anything else that we witness out there in the world. But it really doesn't make any difference. On this day, this unspecial special day I've chosen to start to play with life's Divine Impermanance and humbly try to teach it a thing or two.