It's that really scary moment, the one where your heart starts to race and the panic sets in, the phone call in the middle of the night.
I've been having bad nights anyway, we're in Jerusalem at the moment for the Chagim but there are issues back in the UK which are preoccupying us and in addition my elderly,frail, recently widowed mother in law is staying with us for the duration and needs a lot of TLC.
So when the phone rang at one in the morning I got the fright of my life. It was the alarm monitoring centre to report our alarm going off at home in Manchester for the second time in a week. I had to call a friends and ask him to go out and check if everything was OK. Somehow our electric garage door had opened itself and the contents of my garage were exposed for all the world to see.
Everything got sorted, I sent my friend a thank you text and tried hard to go back to sleep, but of course it wasn't so easy and I lay awake thinking about alarms.
It's Erev Yom Kippur and all our internal alarm bells are ringing at the moment alerting us to the Awesome day ahead of us and the fact that our fates will be sealed and we are thinking of all the things we can do to change what has been decided for us. It's especially poignant for me.
Last year my husband sat with his beloved father in Shul on Yom Kippur listening to the beautiful choir at the Great Synagogue singing Unetaneh Tokef. This year we are in a different Shul, in a new neighbourhood and my father in law is not here, he passed away just before Pesach. His destiny was sealed last Yom Kippur and now we are dealing with life without him.
My alarm bells are ringing, I've done nothing about it, I've been so preoccupied with making Shabbat, Yom Tov, caring for my mother in law, having my children and grandchildren to stay so my mother in law can spend time with them, spending precious time with my youngest son who is in the IDF, that the spiritual side of things, my Teshuva has gone by the wayside. I hope that what I have done is enough, that I am forgiven for my wrongdoings and that Hashem looks favourably on me and my loved ones this year. I also pray that Hashem gives clarity of thought and wisdom to our leaders so they will open their eyes and see the truth of the evil that is taking over this world and to stop appeasing our enemies.
Monday, September 24, 2012
Sunday, February 5, 2012
Finding Our Voices
When did women lose their voices in Shul and at the Shabbat table?
I was at a Communal Seuda Shlishit recently where the women were sitting separately from the men. I don't go to Seuda Shlishit at Shul very often but I accept that this is common practice. What I find hard to accept is that we have lost our voices when it comes to singing Zemirot and Bircat HaMazon. I understand and respect the concept of Kol Isha but surely at a communal event where no individual voices are heard, there is nothing wrong with a woman singing praises to Hashem. After all in the last weeks' Sedra Beshalach, Miriam led the women in singing after the Splitting of the Red Sea.
The net result is because women are not encouraged or feel dissuaded to join in they say nothing, at best mutter the words under their breaths in case someone should hear them, or opt out altogether and talk. We don't have to shout or sing at the tops of our voices, but since when was singing praises and thanks to Hashem something that can be looked on as an erotic act?
We are accepting these impositions on us too easily and not questioning them enough. I understand that nobody is going to embarrass their host and hostess by singing enthusiastically if no other women are participating but it seems to me it's all part of the same mindset where women are being pushed to the back and they are being made to feel and are making themselves invisible.
Monday, September 12, 2011
Any Questions?
I took part in my first ever panel discussion last night, organized by a local synagogue. I have to admit that I was not the first choice, I was the substitute for our new local Jewish TV celebrity who had to back out for personal reasons. She is also my friend and I was very pleased to be asked to fill the breach.
David spent the whole weekend firing questions at me to prepare me and I must admit he did a very good job and I felt quite jaunty and confident about the whole thing until about an hour before, when I started to feel sick. The rest of the panel including the Chairman were a pretty erudite group, all have at least one degree if not more and are experts in their fields. I have a degree in the University of Life, I dropped out of college when my mother became ill and never went back after she died. I had kids, raised my family and got involved in other things, the time was never right to go back. So I suddenly had this huge crisis of confidence, why had I been asked to do this, surely they could have chosen someone far more qualified than me? But there I was and it was too late.
My sons found it very amusing that I had been asked to join the panel; they just couldn't understand why people would want to fire general questions on current affairs at a random group of panellists. My oldest son explained that if he had a query he would ask a specialist, why would people be interested in my opinion on things? Well that was a great confidence booster!
It didn't help that one of the other panellists had been unavoidably delayed and only arrived for the second half, which left me and the other two, comprising one of the most senior and respected Rabbis in our community and the Director of Community Services from the United Synagogue, who had come from London for the event. I was outnumbered. As the Chairman read out my modest CV to the audience I sat there, terrified.
The first question was OK, it was about the impact of Social Media on the recent riots, and the questioner asked if Facebook and Twitter should have been shut down. That was OK, I know a fair bit about Social Media and I didn't agree that it should be shut down, why punish millions of innocent users because of the abusers. It seemed to go down quite well. I started to enjoy myself.
It's very hard in these situations when unseen questions are fired at you. You have to very quickly construct an argument and deliver it cogently and clearly and in hindsight there's always something else you could have added. When I got home, I spent the rest of the night thinking of all the things I didn't say and could have kicked myself about.
All in all it was a good experience and a learning curve, I realised that despite my self doubt, I was quite capable of holding my own and I wouldn't mind doing it again...
David spent the whole weekend firing questions at me to prepare me and I must admit he did a very good job and I felt quite jaunty and confident about the whole thing until about an hour before, when I started to feel sick. The rest of the panel including the Chairman were a pretty erudite group, all have at least one degree if not more and are experts in their fields. I have a degree in the University of Life, I dropped out of college when my mother became ill and never went back after she died. I had kids, raised my family and got involved in other things, the time was never right to go back. So I suddenly had this huge crisis of confidence, why had I been asked to do this, surely they could have chosen someone far more qualified than me? But there I was and it was too late.
My sons found it very amusing that I had been asked to join the panel; they just couldn't understand why people would want to fire general questions on current affairs at a random group of panellists. My oldest son explained that if he had a query he would ask a specialist, why would people be interested in my opinion on things? Well that was a great confidence booster!
It didn't help that one of the other panellists had been unavoidably delayed and only arrived for the second half, which left me and the other two, comprising one of the most senior and respected Rabbis in our community and the Director of Community Services from the United Synagogue, who had come from London for the event. I was outnumbered. As the Chairman read out my modest CV to the audience I sat there, terrified.
The first question was OK, it was about the impact of Social Media on the recent riots, and the questioner asked if Facebook and Twitter should have been shut down. That was OK, I know a fair bit about Social Media and I didn't agree that it should be shut down, why punish millions of innocent users because of the abusers. It seemed to go down quite well. I started to enjoy myself.
It's very hard in these situations when unseen questions are fired at you. You have to very quickly construct an argument and deliver it cogently and clearly and in hindsight there's always something else you could have added. When I got home, I spent the rest of the night thinking of all the things I didn't say and could have kicked myself about.
All in all it was a good experience and a learning curve, I realised that despite my self doubt, I was quite capable of holding my own and I wouldn't mind doing it again...
Tuesday, September 6, 2011
One good deed...
I was driving to the Magistrates court yesterday, it was my first day back on the bench rota after my summer break. I happened to tune in to Radio 4 and started listening to one of the saddest interviews I have ever heard. It was a tragic story about a profoundly disabled woman and the trials and tribulations that had beset her throughout her life. Every time she thought she had found happiness, tragedy struck her again, until she lost her faith.
I started wondering why some people are dealt such a rotten hand in life and at the same time felt obligated to say brief prayer of gratitude. I have had a lovely summer, with two fantastic 50th birthday celebrations, surrounded by friends and family, I have lot to feel grateful for. Then I started thinking " I wonder what's around the corner?" I didn't have to wait too long.
I drove down into the underground car park and swung effortlessly into a parking bay. As I drove in, a woman in an MPV struggled to park in the adjacent space; she rolled down her window and shouted "Lucky You, driving a Mini!" I started to worry that maybe I was too lucky, and that I should leave this large parking bay available for someone with a larger car and that I should park in a smaller one. So I did, I reversed out of my lovely space and found a smaller one, only to collide with a large cement column as I swung in, knocking off the wheel arch cover and giving the front bumper a really good bashing. So much for altruism!
Did I tempt fate? Was I asking to be tested? Did I feel guilty for everything I had when this poor woman on the radio had so little? I suppose the answer is "Yes" to all of it. Have I learned anything? Apart from "Don't be a Twit in a Carpark", I should have stopped at the prayer of gratitude, it was enough.
I started wondering why some people are dealt such a rotten hand in life and at the same time felt obligated to say brief prayer of gratitude. I have had a lovely summer, with two fantastic 50th birthday celebrations, surrounded by friends and family, I have lot to feel grateful for. Then I started thinking " I wonder what's around the corner?" I didn't have to wait too long.
I drove down into the underground car park and swung effortlessly into a parking bay. As I drove in, a woman in an MPV struggled to park in the adjacent space; she rolled down her window and shouted "Lucky You, driving a Mini!" I started to worry that maybe I was too lucky, and that I should leave this large parking bay available for someone with a larger car and that I should park in a smaller one. So I did, I reversed out of my lovely space and found a smaller one, only to collide with a large cement column as I swung in, knocking off the wheel arch cover and giving the front bumper a really good bashing. So much for altruism!
Did I tempt fate? Was I asking to be tested? Did I feel guilty for everything I had when this poor woman on the radio had so little? I suppose the answer is "Yes" to all of it. Have I learned anything? Apart from "Don't be a Twit in a Carpark", I should have stopped at the prayer of gratitude, it was enough.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
That Was the Week That Was
It's been a pretty significant week in my life, I thought I would be able to write it as one experience at a time but time took over so I will have to write about it retrospectively.
Last Thursday night and Friday I observed the 29th anniversary of my mother's passing away, the Jewish/Yiddish term for it is Yahrzeit. You would think that the 30th anniversary would be more significant but in my case it isn't. The reason for this is that my mother died in 1982 at the age of 44 from breast cancer. The day immediately after the Yahrzeit, last Saturday, I celebrated my 50th birthday, something my mother never managed to attain, so the whole experience has been bitter-sweet for me.
As the anniversaries approached I became keenly aware of the huge gap that exists in my life. My mother died when I was 20, just a week before my 21st birthday and the last year of her life was overshadowed by her illness. I never really had the chance to develop a truly adult relationship with her, moreover she never experienced the joy of being a grandmother and to see her her beautiful grandchildren (my three boys and my sister's two girls and two boys) growing up. There was a lot to mourn and regret.
At the same time I have been incredibly fortunate. I managed to get into a screening program so I am checked up every year, something that wan't available to my mother ( we had no idea at that time that there was a family history. Subsequent to my mother's diagnosis, my aunt, grandmother and two great aunts were all diagnosed with breast cancer. ) I married young to a very special man, completed my family by the time I was 30 and have grown up with my boys. Two of our sons are married, we have a beautiful granddaughter and we are expecting another grandchild very soon. I am very grateful that I have been able to experience the joys that were denied to my mother but I wish she was here to share them with me, my reference point is missing.
I wish she had been there to celebrate my 50th birthday with me, (she would be 73 had she lived). I got over the sadness of the Yahrzeit and rose to meet my birthday clapping and singing. I dedicated my birthday to my mother; I had a small lunch with my family and closest friends and then left it to my friends to decide what to do with the rest of the day, I was not really in a place where I wanted to make myself a party. So they did; and with the help of my amazing husband David, they made a wonderful surprise party for me to celebrate with a few dear friends who have shared life's ups and downs with us for the last 25-30 years or so. It was the best birthday ever, a memory to truly cherish.
From the heights of my birthday back to mourning again. On Monday night and Tuesday, we observed Tisha B'Av which is the commemoration of the destruction of the 1st and 2nd Temples in Jerusalem and other calamities which have befallen the Jewish people, such as the Crusades, the Expulsion from Spain and of course the Holocaust. It is an intense 25 hours of fasting and introspection, the culmination of a 3 week period of mourning where we don't enjoy public entertainment or have haircuts and in addition, for the last nine days haven't eaten eat meat or drunk wine. On Monday night I watched the TV in absolute horror as I saw anarchy overwhelm London and watched it burn. It made me think of the Temple burning down and the Romans sacking Jerusalem and I empathised with the victims of the mindless brutality which was happening before our eyes. Last night, as we broke the fast, I watched my own city of Manchester come under attack by opportunists looking to cause destruction, looting and arson. I was horrified to watch a young brute intentionally set fire to a shop in the city centre, just 6 miles from my home. I could not believe my eyes. What had the world come to? My son called me up from Jerusalem and said "Mummy, why don't you come and live here, it's much safer."
I'm seriously thinking about it.
This post is dedicated to Esther Kay, Feb 17th 1938- July 25th 1982
Last Thursday night and Friday I observed the 29th anniversary of my mother's passing away, the Jewish/Yiddish term for it is Yahrzeit. You would think that the 30th anniversary would be more significant but in my case it isn't. The reason for this is that my mother died in 1982 at the age of 44 from breast cancer. The day immediately after the Yahrzeit, last Saturday, I celebrated my 50th birthday, something my mother never managed to attain, so the whole experience has been bitter-sweet for me.
As the anniversaries approached I became keenly aware of the huge gap that exists in my life. My mother died when I was 20, just a week before my 21st birthday and the last year of her life was overshadowed by her illness. I never really had the chance to develop a truly adult relationship with her, moreover she never experienced the joy of being a grandmother and to see her her beautiful grandchildren (my three boys and my sister's two girls and two boys) growing up. There was a lot to mourn and regret.
At the same time I have been incredibly fortunate. I managed to get into a screening program so I am checked up every year, something that wan't available to my mother ( we had no idea at that time that there was a family history. Subsequent to my mother's diagnosis, my aunt, grandmother and two great aunts were all diagnosed with breast cancer. ) I married young to a very special man, completed my family by the time I was 30 and have grown up with my boys. Two of our sons are married, we have a beautiful granddaughter and we are expecting another grandchild very soon. I am very grateful that I have been able to experience the joys that were denied to my mother but I wish she was here to share them with me, my reference point is missing.
I wish she had been there to celebrate my 50th birthday with me, (she would be 73 had she lived). I got over the sadness of the Yahrzeit and rose to meet my birthday clapping and singing. I dedicated my birthday to my mother; I had a small lunch with my family and closest friends and then left it to my friends to decide what to do with the rest of the day, I was not really in a place where I wanted to make myself a party. So they did; and with the help of my amazing husband David, they made a wonderful surprise party for me to celebrate with a few dear friends who have shared life's ups and downs with us for the last 25-30 years or so. It was the best birthday ever, a memory to truly cherish.
From the heights of my birthday back to mourning again. On Monday night and Tuesday, we observed Tisha B'Av which is the commemoration of the destruction of the 1st and 2nd Temples in Jerusalem and other calamities which have befallen the Jewish people, such as the Crusades, the Expulsion from Spain and of course the Holocaust. It is an intense 25 hours of fasting and introspection, the culmination of a 3 week period of mourning where we don't enjoy public entertainment or have haircuts and in addition, for the last nine days haven't eaten eat meat or drunk wine. On Monday night I watched the TV in absolute horror as I saw anarchy overwhelm London and watched it burn. It made me think of the Temple burning down and the Romans sacking Jerusalem and I empathised with the victims of the mindless brutality which was happening before our eyes. Last night, as we broke the fast, I watched my own city of Manchester come under attack by opportunists looking to cause destruction, looting and arson. I was horrified to watch a young brute intentionally set fire to a shop in the city centre, just 6 miles from my home. I could not believe my eyes. What had the world come to? My son called me up from Jerusalem and said "Mummy, why don't you come and live here, it's much safer."
I'm seriously thinking about it.
This post is dedicated to Esther Kay, Feb 17th 1938- July 25th 1982
Tuesday, August 2, 2011
The Greater Good?
I went to a meeting last night convened by some of the great and good in our community with the aim of organising a conference for an extremely good cause.
I have never been to such a toxic and hostile gathering in my life and I have been involved in rather a lot of committees over the past few years.
The main objective of the group was admirable and necessary but they came to the meeting totally bogged down with their own agendas and motives so much so that the big picture was completely lost in the details. I accept that some of the details were important and needed to be discussed before progress could be made, but nothing much happened at all because the atmosphere was so negative and it was very difficult to negotiate because of the all the personalities and agendas involved. I came out of the meeting feeling despondent and my equilibrium was completely disturbed, I felt physically sick.
I received an email this morning which confirmed what I think I had decided last night, this project is not for me. I am a peace loving person, I believe in the greater good and in doing good and have spent most of my adult life involved in one organisation or another trying to achieve this.
On encountering this group of highly intelligent, highly motivated and genuinely involved people unable to set aside their political or religious affiliations and regional differences and agendas, who totally failed to keep their focus on the main objectives despite their desire to do good, I couldn't in all good faith get involved. The personal cost would be just too high, sometimes you have to say no...
I have never been to such a toxic and hostile gathering in my life and I have been involved in rather a lot of committees over the past few years.
The main objective of the group was admirable and necessary but they came to the meeting totally bogged down with their own agendas and motives so much so that the big picture was completely lost in the details. I accept that some of the details were important and needed to be discussed before progress could be made, but nothing much happened at all because the atmosphere was so negative and it was very difficult to negotiate because of the all the personalities and agendas involved. I came out of the meeting feeling despondent and my equilibrium was completely disturbed, I felt physically sick.
I received an email this morning which confirmed what I think I had decided last night, this project is not for me. I am a peace loving person, I believe in the greater good and in doing good and have spent most of my adult life involved in one organisation or another trying to achieve this.
On encountering this group of highly intelligent, highly motivated and genuinely involved people unable to set aside their political or religious affiliations and regional differences and agendas, who totally failed to keep their focus on the main objectives despite their desire to do good, I couldn't in all good faith get involved. The personal cost would be just too high, sometimes you have to say no...
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Mrs Facebook
I am a social networking addict. There, I've said it. I just can't help it, I love Facebook, Twitter and more recently, Google+.
I didn't realise quite how much stuff I was posting until someone stopped me in the supermarket and saidt "Hello Mrs Facebook, you've been getting around a lot!" I must admit I was quite taken aback and since then I've had quite a few more comments thrown my way of a similar ilk.
So, what to do? Do I ignore the comments about my frequent Facebook presence or has the time come for me to justify my Facebook habit? After all what I choose to post and the emphasis here is definitely on my choice, is my decision and the truth is that I won't post anything that I feel doesn't have a place in the public domain. I have a strictly private and family life that is not up for discussion at all. I post what I want people to see or what I think they will find interesting or funny.
We lead a global life in this, the second decade of the 21st century. I have friends and family all over the world, it's impossible to keep in touch with everyone on an individual basis all the time. Facebook allows me to share news, views, photos and interests, send birthday wishes, greetings, even condolences with the people in my life and on the periphery. I have rekindled friendships with people that I lost touch with over the years, I even belong to a photographic group where we share and critique our pictures on a weekly basis.
What I want to say to those who think maybe I'm making my life too public, or sharing my location with too frequently is this; if you don't like me block me! You can choose not to have me in your life. I love Facebook and I have no intention of signing off just yet...
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