The Path to a Healing Heart

Fear not to go down to Egypt; for there I will make of you a great nation. I will go down with you into Egypt, and I will also surely bring you up again. Genesis 46:3-4

A lot went through me, through my psyche, aura and body in sharp blasts as a child. The formative years shaped me, made me, what was once whole, complete - bombed - shattered, tattered, torn and ripped open. PTSD - Pulmonary trauma suddenly descending. It's the ear-heart connection. And it's the opposite of understanding. It's beyond comprehension. You fill up with the energy and then you just bust wide open. Call it implosion. Ensue here hyper sensitivity and sensory displacement, where sounds become matter and through the reverberations of hyper vigilance you can see red while hearing the trees whisper. The sensory filters are shot wide open and all enters without guards. They go past the ripped places straight to the heart where it bounces off the original trauma setting in motion the good ol' hormonal influx of cortisole and adrenaline - i.e rapid heart beat, increased anxiety levels. Running - first impulse. Get away. Run for your life. I've been battered b

Discard, ignore, belittle, discount. Keep her locked behind doors. Shove a bottle and toy in her hand. Keep her in the dark and confined. Where she can't tell what's up What's down, who's around or feel the touch except to be changed. Kick the door slam closed eyes, play Bach or minouet Clown pictures, roaming cats Smells of sour milk and sounds of crying screaming slamming Ears precious don't bleed hide Keep covered anxiety levels cry more can't sleep, facing walls, detached and cooing at the warm mama cat called love. Everything I had given away taken away, ran away, went away. All I had disappeared, never appeared Never manifested, only a dream. Here for the ride to be yanked by the hair, bruise in the eyes flesh forked open with prongs into caverns of pus and eye filled with styes, and men who wanted a piece of the puzzle and teachers who kicked, screamed and punished and a society that is spinning out of control and my running away from all that tried to pi

Someone put my mother in hell and it wasn't me. Way before I was a thought in consciousness Way before the wars and bombs fell Way before erosion of her heart began She was pulled under. It was as if pins and hooks stretched her It was as if knives and needles scored her It was as if water was pushed down her throat and her breath couldn't be caught for eons. Her brain split and her body caved Her tears ran red and her sweat bullets Her words of comfort were exchanged at the gates of freewill for soul woundings. The fog that followed her caused blindness The chaos that ensued caused havoc The pain she inflicted caused destruction Her touch lethal, her eyes evil, slitted in agony. The doctor she married, the doctors she courted the doctors that evaded, measured, prodded and chided The doctors that twinkled their eyes and those that slurred under their breath unspeakable words of contempt and hatred. The doctors in robes in clinics, the ones with ties The professors, the speciali

Had to remind myself of the variations of re-fridger-ators I've had and used in these last years to guage my progress spiritual and otherwise - because of the adage as below as above and if your fridge is on the blitz your emotional regulators are too. It's proven down to an exact science. Arriving here touched down to Judean hills, rented room there was a small one. Enough to put a pot and a bag of vegetables and call it a day. Time to downsize. Moved then to the half a caravan. Had no fridge for the duration of 4-5 months, in the high heat of the hills without a way to keep the food cool, spoilage ensued and a daily run to replenish my perishables. Then moved to Hebron into the 4th floor apartment with a rusty old Amcor that gave me a shock to my core every time it was touched. I painted it green and used a towel to open it and save myself the dread. Then to Tzfat where there was no kitchen, only 2 cupboards and a board between, a sink snuck in a large Whirlpool wheeled in -

Fish, fish I shout into the headless phone my groaning mother being tormented by one South Asian caretaker who cooks sometimes and snaps too often Fish, fish eat a banana, take your pill don't be fearful, afraid, anxious, relax try and down a vitamin C, the story of my caretaking invisible life rerun My mother frail, one hundred miles away, hours by bus and a million sentiments from my heart, I am the last remnant of her children Through broken phones and groans she is suffering in hell and putting all those who will listen mostly doctors in to the pit with her to witness her anguish I born to this, the lamb the goat and the beast of burden, suffering her lost childhood her dismissive father and her rage I absorbed 50 years served, on a bed of sickness and bile And on and on 50 years. I hear it and nod, it's easy enough to stop the noise with a click and breath and let the pain fade into the pool of what ifs.

Was a prophet

If I die. No one will mourn. I think only my angels would miss me. My imprint on this world being such a clumsy one. This is never a good place for me to be. Being totally overwhelmed by life and what I need to deal with. I'm just over my head and am losing control over everything. I can't make it. I don't know where else to turn at this point. For the sake of my cats I'm just hanging on barely. I need someone to talk to. I can't do this anymore. I don't even know what to do next. My life force is slipping away. It's ok - this world and me. Never really did get along. It will be a relief. To leave.

You know - many probably do - reading my saga and journeys with my cats. My stolen sherpa carrier, the end resulting in not being able to get to the vet as easily as I could, my finances, living in a war zone and the constant barrage of assaults to my own system with PTSD from a younger age and with this, Dealing. Dealing with life as it comes, on its own terms, me - I'm just a survivor and a part-time writer. And in this today, I am *dealing* with Jessie and his parasite-ridden blood cells and why won't those bugs just leave him the f alone?! Anti-biotics were created for the lesser strength bacteria, they can't fight off the inner leechers. I see my proud boy, grey haired and green eyes, with the power to climb mountains and pines and catch the wind when he wasn't honing in big-pawed on a stray rodent. Only to present it to me, gifting the shredded souled one with something once alive - now struggling. And dealing with that too in a fatalistic yet numbing way. Thank y

After the acrid and the burning After the cesspools and the dead bodies decaying After the garbage uncollected and the putrid stenches all round Got me some Melissa and Routa. Yeah. Been crushing that up between weak fingers to stir some energy up into the spine of my yet to be healed cat suffering so. I go with him and him with me. He takes me to the pain land I take him back to the Land of the Living with Melissa and Routa my new sisters in healing. Amythest stone from Greenwich Village, the Book of Raziel the amulet of Rabbi Leon Levy the prayers of Yitzhak the mercy of Hashem surround this feline with a Nefesh Shokeika. I put him in my heart. 4 felines in 4 chambers When I made Aliyah to this Land With me, you will come and with me you will ascend if you are in Agreement. They said in union - yes. So, my duty is to uplift these souls demoted into felines back to their original forms, in spite of whatever transgressions they committed, I will uplift them as they have uplifted me, on

Enough of all this. Just enough. Call it. Call it. Call it. End. The End. The final kick. Time to separate the forces. Time to divorce. South and North - separate. East and West - separate. Left and Right - separate. Judea and Jerusalem - separate. Day and night - separate. Water and oil - separate. Blood and fire - separate. Let the distance now come. Part the waters. We're coming through.

Smoke infuses the house, fresh washed hair, eyes burning, the acrid smell has now permeated the house, the outside orange street lamps are clouded, as another criminal farmer decides to use the night as his cover like the thief, Lilith and vampires. Oh God, I cannot breathe. Oh mama I am dying. Shma Yisrael Adonai Eloheinu Adonai Echad. Biological and chemical weaponry is being used against flesh my lungs, I ask only forgiveness for subjecting you to living here And ask the God of Retribution to act quickly and swiftly to even the scores with the evil doers. Now. Now. Now. My eyes. So harsh for these soft ones. All creatures here innocent - I pray that the plague that descended be stopped. Negeif Ti-Atzer.

Is coming fast like a hurricane, earthquake, tsunami. The rivers will overflow The soil broken Rocks and hail and fury Unleashed The earth itself will cry out for mercy and this will be the evening the day the Judgment on all.

Noticing the animals in this place, the cats that roam, the dogs that wander, the rooster that has now infiltrated my space, the ants, the flies, the mosquitoes, it's all clear - they have adapted and have become like the inhabitants of this place - taking on the characteristics of the people who live here. There is much infiltration of personal space by these species. There is fear domineering. Hunger has crazed most of them, where hunger springs forth behavior that borders on insane. Street cats plough into my dwelling, using the open door, jumping on tables, counters, ripping food from the pots and pans, till I began feeding them by throwing food out the window, then the rooster from who knows where got the message that there's free food and started showing up all hours of the day crowing and demanding its due. The flies they come in droves, sink their swarms in all places to hatch, high places. Then descend on all living and once living essences. Mosquitoes arrive as soon a

Bitter olives purple their green days over, smashed a little to let them bleed as one, rolled into tubular glass jars soaking in brine, 4 weeks of changing. We are bitter, round, solid with a pit in our middle, turning with sun and stars, leaping with winds, brushing leaves and branches, slow, slow ripening. Through the salt and water, bruising and soaking, the process of metamorphosis Oil and sodium mixing it up creating sweet fruit tangy plucky, new chemis-tree. Soak the heart in tears Beat the ego into submission Trickle the harvest into a vessel Count the days Wash with water Annoint with oil Sweeten the bitter Transform the fruit and prepare the Tree for a New Year.

URGENT - URGENT - URGENT Ecological, environmental, animal activist and writer Joy Sherri must find an alternative housing solution within the next 2 weeks. A quiet, sweet-natured, harmony-minded, spiritual woman, she has been traveling and moving throughout Israel since her arrival in 2004. Throughout this time and in spite of experiencing great hardships and enduring some pretty traumatic experiences which include a terrorist attack, a car accident, the 2006 war and untold personal difficulties, Joy has maintained high spirits and has continued to champion for the rights of animals in Israel, promoting Aliyah, writing on various topics such as domestic violence in society, natural living, spiritual healing and wildlife conservation. In addition, she has also begun recording a CD of healing Judaic chants to help heal a nation of its wounds Will you help find a quiet place in nature for this good woman who only wishes to be of service and be a voice for the voiceless? Please contact wi

This goes on daily. The smoke billows. Into homes. Lungs. Brains. Plastics burned. Car batteries. Now I've got him. Proof.

Perek Shira The Rooster says When the Holy One,Blessed Be He,comes to the righteous in the Garden of Eden,all the trees in the Garden of Eden scatter their spices they rejoice and sing paises,He then is aroused and sings praises(Zohar-Vayakhel 195b) 1st Call-Lift up your heads,O gates! And be lifted up,O everlasting doors!And The King of Glory shall come in.Who is this King of Glory? G-D Strong and Mighty.G-D in Battle!(Psalms 24:7-8) 2nd Call-Lift up your hands,O gates!Lift them up.O everlasting doors!And the king of glory shall come in.Who is He,this King of Glory?G-D of Hosts,He is the King of Glory,Selah!(Psalms 24:9-10) 3rd Call-Stand!O righteous ones,and busy yourselves with Torah,so that your reward shall be double in the World-To-Come! 4th Call-I have hoped for your salvation,O G-D.(Genesis 49:18) 5th Call-How long will you sleep,Lazy one? When will you arise from your sleep?(Proverbs 6:9) 6th Call-Do not love sleep,lest you come to poverty:Open your eyes,and you shall be sati

Quit school after being covered with boils from my head to my legs and standing was too painful And the constant screaming at home was just Enough. I think also the repeated molestations had something to do with my just quitting the human race. At any rate, I left school in the 7th grade. Became a runaway before the term was coined in the Holy Land. At 18 married. Twenty birthed. 21 started to look for employment. Went for a typing class - circa 1983. Got my first *real* job working at Tadiran as a clerk for the electronics department. Semiconductors and other elements. I started then working with computers. A bit later forged out to start selling sandwiches, then started cleaning houses. It was a hard life living in the barrio called Pardess Katz, raising my kid and working with one hand up someone's toilet. 22 years old I lived in poverty though Was making some kind of living. I saved enough from working with sandwiches to buy a washing machine. Ventured out from that point to ma

Scenario - One day from the holiday of Sukkot till one week ago. Back of house in storage area, one Sherpa bag stolen. Without said bag, this writer cannot take cat through the fields, over the hills, over the highways and through traffic, on buses and on taxies to get to vet. Head held, prayers uttered, karma understood, another flinch of the soul. Forty emails to various people on Craigslists all over the United States - nothing. Bid one time on ebay, won, then seller decided to increase shipment at last moment. Purchase canceled. Cat continues to decline. Cat is taken in broken bag which unravels in mid travel cat half escapes in the middle of the Beer Sheva Tel Aviv road. Writer becomes hysterical and half-crazed. Week later, more angst, another ebay auction, bid, won, purchased, shipped. Shipment arrives - the bag is too small. Money down the drain. Cat continues to decline. Frantic emails across the world, please help, please help, please help. Find vet in Beit Dagan, kind enoug

My daddy was a doctor of feet Came to knowing the tendons and bunions of all who paid him visits at his locales in the State of New York, he cut and smoothed, bathed and caressed, x-rayed and diagnosed, painted them with salves lavished them with jokes while bandaging and giving the best to each toe, nail and heel as they say - they don't make docs like him no more. One day he saw his daughter's feet. Must've been during the time when we met on the Tel Aviv coast. Six years of empty space between us. Enough time to pass for him to be a relic and for me to be an enigma. Still he looked at my dusty feet, unelegant in comparison to his daily lady patients, mine walked across continents and stood in mud in basic training, ran from rapists and broke in more than 4 places. Plain, flat, holding up the body that ran more times away than toward anything or anyone. And he said: *You have peasant feet*. *Oh* I said. Some place inside happy that a part of me was low-class and sad and u

It's going. All of it. All the news and the Jews in it. All of the life styles. All of the sentiments. Just freeing myself from this entanglement called society here. In this place. It's been a process. I'm ready now to move on from this mental place, this physical space, this stance of living. Time to go. Without the load weighing on me. I will free myself up in wide open spaces and live the life I've dreamed about for so long. With my tribe. With my own people - or not. I have no qualms about living my dream out alone - in peace - without interference. I will dumpster dive and I will salvage. I will grow my own and there will be sharing and bartering. And no one will be there to judge me. Except G-d almighty. Smoke. Smog. Toxins. Evil. Goodbye. It wasn't nice knowing you. It was a frightful experience. And I am now wiser.

Didn't sleep last night. A total haul to make myself available to Jerusalem and git there. Physically. Just make the bus that involves walking distances, getting to another city and then waiting for the bus. Had my schedule. Started out at 4:00 am. Just to be sure. Then went into automatic. Dressed in paint spattered clothes (on the inside - but still I knew), found other odds and ends to don myself with. Wrapped my head in a scarf and mandatory sunglasses and hit the road at 7 something. Arrived at the next destination - waited another 10 minutes - bus came and we hit the road. I can't BEGIN to tell you - how utterly blown away I felt at FINALLY LEAVING this place and heading UP. It's been a LONG, dragged out, bloody, dusty, fiery, angst-ridden, pathetic time here and leaving it after a year and not seeing Jerusalem for almost 2 - well I was riveted to the window taking it all in, praying that the green trees, my pines, my blessed pines would remain with me as memory. The

Solidified in my not moving Denseness, depression in the lobes the plague of darkness descended in it, the human lump unmoving Jerusalem waits for me, cannot Will not move, boogie down to it or up - is it? up to Jerusalem I heard only fire rises Got no fire in me - put out thanks so much. All of it Now an entity solely existing on hot air and chemical trails Come angel. Come on over. I am here for your taking. If you will - come on. I am here - languishing like a veal thrust into its cage I've stopped squirming there's nothing left to protest No stone to overturn I swear, my job is done here Ready - you hear? Ready! And if it should happen That I linger too long On this tree I will rot and fall And it's only a matter of seconds Till the deed is done Lump with a seed - I am, I am Here I go Falling. Here I go Fallen. Here I go in quicksand. I no longer exist. It is not for me. It is the remnant for which the world will continue. And I becomes *it* and family trees continue to

Plucked, crimped, sliced and crumpled Slivered, chopped, buried and resurrected Breathed, shunned, stomped and deserted Kicked, floored, punched and dispossessed. I am the knacker horse The hermit, the cistern dweller the ostracized, bitter water wailer the callow headed, the penny beggar sallow skinned dodger of leather boot kickers. Oh rains prick and soothe, fast and steady wash the gutter latrine shadows clinging Peel away the sweat, the lard, the smoke The soot, soil, blood and stragglers that suck. Semblance of all finality and blue bursts rushing with overturned granite fallow parched plain seeded, earth pregnantly green Fire up and load the helm, shock the cesspool clean.

I should have heeded a premonition I had yesterday morning - Friday. Just lost my level of consciousness, probably had an out of body experience - or lost my mind. Crumbled and crashed emotionally. Throughout the day, went through the motions of cleaning, cooking and trying not to think about dread, doom and put on a happy face, dammit. Somehow made it to candlighting, somehow made it to eating a very bare and cold meal. My cat, Jesse who was sick for 4 months now didn't come back home at nightfall and I felt I should be sitting shiva. Then I thought maybe Shabbat waives the laws of mourning. But I felt comfortable sitting on the floor anyway - on a cushion. Vascillating between feeling terrible and feeling some kind of relief that his suffering was finally over. I grabbed some holy books. Started praying for the ill. Felt some comfort there. Got up went out, called him, came back in. Back and forth at least 7 times. On the 8th I went to the backyard and there I saw what I can only

Well, we all seem to be rolling with the same people lifetime after lifetime. It's the cookie-cutter precision perfection in lessons to be learning about relativity and cause and effect. And in the final analysis turning the stone heart into the flesh one. Scenario. Infant born into a family divided and seething from its core. One by one they leave, the infant in the clutches of a mother half in this world and half in the other, sainted and sodomized by life itself and the infant tossed between the sides that are shooting and sometimes she crashes to the ground for all the tossing and gets hit by ammo straight to the head and heart. Now - go make yourself a life out of that and heal and repair your relationships. You've got x amount of years to do that and all of your thoughts, actions and deeds will be recorded for eternity and everything you do, say or think will be shown to you - 10 fold. Go make a life. Go make some sense. Go make peace on earth, in mind, in heart. The gate

Woman comes - wife of lord of the land. I told her I would be leaving within 3 months. 3 months. Wherever the road will take me. Please take me Home. photo by nstaeck

I am - with 4 cats. Three I brought with me from the States, one found and adopted in Kiryat Arba- we are family. They've moved with me 7 times since we arrived here. Seven times getting used to new surroundings, street cats attacking them - and the ailments that come with being under stress, immune systems compromised and the illnesses and follow. And I run to vets with them. Wherever I landed. And shlepped the kitty litter from Jerusalem to the caravan in Alon Shvut and dried wet sand in Kiryat Arba when there was no litter to be found. And vets. Vets. Vets. Vets and all that this entails. Money. Energy. Balance. Good cheer. Thankfulness and more understanding about how the body of a feline operates. And through it all -my Sherpa bag . I loved this bag. Before coming back to Israel - I chose the most luxurious bag I could find for the cat that would accompany me on the flight. The other 2 went into plastic containers in the belly of the plane. This bag had it all - the compartme

Distant howling dogs cringe worthy The dry wind of November Bitter in its ancient existence A quick look at where the sharp shooting luminaries are tonight Branches fallen on the greening soil I know from the daylight I'm feeling my way around in the pitch black of the night lit by my little lamp that flickers and the arranged space lights a million light years away. Do branches just fall in the heat of the day or night because they must and the tree finds them a burden? Did arms bring them crashing onto the ground? The barks of the hounds echo like magnets of rare earth plunked down in a thousand chambers now called my brain they do not let up, stirred by my breathing, as only the crazed the starved and the bully would do. The air now has cleared 2 days of non stop burning, now I know they burn fields a quicker more efficient way of reducing plants to carbon, more black to the mix of gray cement, broken houses and exhaust pipes, the cacaphony of severity gone over the edge bringin

Response to someone about King David's not *acting* upon Tamar's rape..... OK - I was struck by your message because it was huge. And it was also something that I myself never delved into. And so I did. And I read the part in the Book of Samuel that deals with this whole saga from its inception with Amnon to the *invervention* of Abshalom to the final deed to the *quiet* response of King David and arrived at my own conclusion based on my knowledge of who exactly King David was - son, shepherd, lover, husband, father, servant, warrior and king. And that is - King David didn't act upon this in the ways that we know or are familiar with. He fumed, yes. He was insane with confusion, yes. Did he act - directly against Amnon? No. What did the King of Israel do? He prayed. He went to war. He put his life on the line. He wrote psalms, isolated himself, sat with ashes and sackcloth and prayed to God. He did this in silence and privacy. Just him and God. Even Samuel the prophet who w

Seems to be a constant theme. First under verbal abuse. Then under missile attack. Then under rock attack. Theme. Was thinking about Nasrallah today. I never did anything to him. Never uttered a word against or for anything. Never took a stand this way or that. Politics just never occurred to me. Like a missing gene. If anything I stayed away from it. Sickened me. And here I was in Tzfat - the city of mystics 2006 under a barrage attack with 600 katyusha missiles zipping over and by me, whizzing and shrieking and blasting away every shred of my consciousness that still remained intact. I huddled in a room about 10x10 meters. Filth and dust, remnants of it being a warehouse, now a suitable dwelling place, cleaned and emptied by my son who wanted me to have a taste of Woodstock in Israel. And for 4 months I writhed and kvetched to God Almighty why of all places I had to wind up there where it seemed the pain was more fervent and acute than in any other place on earth during that phase of

Broken sukkah - there's no one to ask for help. Stones thrown at my house once again. A barrage. Before Yom Kippur. Could not sit in a community house of worship where people want me dead. Have no where to go. No one to speak to. Days pass, holidays go, years pass - no one can I speak to. No one understands. And it is useless to speak. Enough words. I sleep through holidays. I drug myself till I can't feel anymore. I hide from barrages of stones. I fear for my life in a lawless place. Every where I go - it is the same story. The damaged one, the leper and the AIDS carrier. The one to spit at and curse and this is my karma. This is the way it needs to be. And the end is near for me. I know it. I have it planned out. And so it will be. And there will be the final release. No more pain. No more pain. No more pain. No more pain. I am at the end of the road. Wish me luck.

Here come you all gawkers and readers and side show freak fans - here is your chance to view up close and personal one of the low-down, dirty, low-achieving, isolating PTSD , high-functioning misfits, the under-dogs - here. Welcome. I will tell you how they become how they are. And don't even begin to tell me the dry scenarios you know from the media, books and hearsay. It's bullshit capital B. Unless you've been there you haven't a clue. Not an inkling and all you can throw into the wind is your wishful thinking, your cluches and wouda coulda shouda oughta and whydontcha. But you're guessing. Like guess the numbers of the lottery - and even if you've experienced one tenth of what a survivor has experienced you still don't have a clue what it's like to be on the altar of sacrifice, traded in for some mental relief at the expense of your bloodshed. Poisoned with programming for self-destruction, ignored and cut off in cold-hearted fuck you, why are you ev

Sleepless. Woman mother got up 11 times give or take, shining light in my face, bathroom, wheeling the walker. I can't sleep anyway under normal conditions, I slept not a wink, in spite of taking half of yet another pill. 7:30 appears in front of me scowling - I am hungry. Make food. My nightmare has begun. I try to reach into the recesses of where I am most holy not this child that I was conditioned to become - the essence of who I am. All my buttons including those yet not invented pushed. In her *being destroyed* crying on the phone from nursing home - I tried to the right thing. Honor. Honor. Now I am reverting to self-destructive behavior. I am now drinking wine at 8 am and already took a pill just to cope with whatever next she will throw at me. Already heard the usual. The berating, criticizing, the bow down to Queen, not one positive. Not one good word. Actually when I began talking to her when she arrived she said: *you should be paying me a thousand dollars for having s

Mother, gifter of life - decided that she was being *destroyed* in the nursing home and called me this morning to let me know she was coming to me because otherwise she would die. Now I know where my drama and all the insane thinking comes from. Everything is a catastrophe. Everything is a holocaust. The world spins on hysteria, crying and then more anxiety filling worlds, minds and heads in that vicinity with this twist. And I am a victim and why is the world so bad and how terrible is the air, water, and food and people and on and on and on. And I've intherited this. And into my world of non-expression. non-connection she comes. Horrified at how I live - in *these condtions* of poverty. I said - this is good. You should see how people in Darfur live. And my mouth and mind are in direct opposition to hers and have been since inception. I have zero compassion for this woman and do I care at all - I'm beyond caring. And in my seething, sick, frozen state I am feeling rage at wha

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Forgiveness to those that promised yet never delivered. I give. Forgiveness to those who demeaned me through words. I offer. Forgiveness to those that belittled me through indifference. I extend. Forgiveness to those that wished me harm. I forgive. Forgiveness for the acts of cruelty, where my body was violated. It is done. Forgiveness for the acts of abuse where my psyche was shattered. It is done. Forgiveness for the acts of humiliation where my soul was diminished. It is done. Forgiveness for the acts of terrorizing, shaming and mocking me. It is done. I forgive. I release. I forgive. I release. I forgive. I release. I forgive. I release. I forgive. I release. Where there has been discord - let there be harmony. Where there has been war - let there be peace. Where there has been indifference - let there be love. Where there has been cruelty - let there be compassion. Let this shattered heart be whole. Let this shattered soul be healed. Let this shattered mind be repaired. Let this s

Between two cars I saw half a pigeon alive it had been sawed or otherwise butchered it walked - perhaps like the headless chicken but balance was still there - and there was no frantic beating of wings. Shocked, I walked on. A month later I helped a frail woman up from her falling and as I grasped her arms the flesh came away in my hands like peels of strawberries the derma coated my thumbs and the horror my mind. Shocked, I stumbled on. I rallied myself and my leaking soul onto a cement platform in the middle of a settlement in the south a plateau for the weary at midnight, without the plaguing noises and clashing egos. I eased into the night. A white dove descended over me and landed on the nearby telephone pole in pitch black I recited a Psalm lest this be the angel of death himself and if I recall it was 23 . I'm not ready to go. From my screen I lift my eyes and see what appears to be a bumblebee flapping and fluttering 10,000 beats a minute wings silently buzzing into the roo

What if everywhere to you turned, everyone you interacted with, all senses, all feelings, all entanglements with the elements brought pain, suffering and piercings of the flesh and organs? What if you never got a reprieve other than under severe and heavy sedation where the soul and body then separate? What if there was no one to speak to about these things, because nobody *gets* the magnitude. Nobody understand what exactly it means to be perpetually in the state of being annihilated. What if they judged you, wrote down a classification, dismissed you and told you flat out - this was your lot in life, the best I can do is give you some pills to take the edge off? What if your entire life was a battlefield and you were fighting the entire world just for the right to earn a space to breathe in because somehow that doesn't seem to be ok with the world who see you as something that has zero rights to exist, let alone have a space and the sooner you are annihilated, stomped and execute

Plucked, crimped, sliced and crumpled Slivered, chopped, buried and resurrected. Breathed, shunned, stomped and deserted Kicked, floored, punched and dispossessed. I am the knacker horse The hermit, the cistern dweller the ostracized, bitter water wailer the callow headed, the penny beggar sallow skinned dodger of leather boot kickers. Oh rains prick and soothe, fast and steady wash the gutter latrine shadows clinging Peel away the sweat, the lard, the smoke The soot, soil, blood and stragglers that suck Semblance of all finality and blue cyclamens rushing with overturned granite at heaven's gate fallow and parched plain seeded, pregnantly green. Fire away down blessed water, bomb the cesspool clean.

Aye. A people deserve the leaders appointed to them. And the hills are burning and the heads are imploding and the ones wielding the guns and tear gas are in control of the riots. And everyone is crying somewhere in their souls. Yeah the hills are burning. Yeah the tires are being punctured and the uprising is gaining force and momentum. Sheeple take the reins, feel the power, don't play the game of cowards and intimidation they would have you play. And left is a joke and right is a holding on to dreams and the middle are hidden away, tucked away for the Day of Judgment, not willing to risk their mellowness and lofty thoughts and get their hands dirty, though there was Rabbi Meir from Gimzo to whom I really give all credit for doing something out of the ordinary and shaking something in the earth and heaven for taking a stand and burying himself in protest of the government seeding the earth during Shmitta. And where are the others? Let them win. Let them win. Let them win this rou

I'm not counting days. I'm counting hours. In these hours assessment of all that is, is being made. In between the assessment analyzing is done. And in between that scoping and observing and agonizing over what could be instead of accepting what is. Years ago I had an opening in my heart. I think the scar tissue of hardening covered it up and since that moment that small place the size of a needle tip ceased to be and in its stead callousness came into being. That moment in time when there was an opening was holy and it allowed some compassion and a new ray to enter through that willed open place. I have forgotten what it is like to be child like and open. I have forgotten what it is like to trust. I have forgotten what it is like to have a parent who loves me. I have forgotten what it is like to be loved at all. So used to pain and suffering. So used to the harshness of the elements. So used to be used as a punching bag and soccer ball for the amusement and sadism of others. S

Seen in England. What is the spiritual meaning of a rainbow? http://www.asknoah.org/html/rainbow_covenant.html

Been through this before. In different time periods. Same soul, different times. Gotten so far, broke and exited. For whichever reason. I still don't know. Callousness. Mine, yours, theirs. Indifference. Turning the other way when my brother or sister was dying. Again. Crossroads. I keep on. For my cats. The insurers. That I won't off myself before my Time. To see things to their ending. Not before their time. As designated. As Willed. As Planned. Not before. Not according to my ego's wishes. Accoridng to the Creator's Plan. And in the interim suffering. Much. And this is how it must be. Till. Till. Till I get it. See it. Understand it. Experience it. Know it. Live it. Love it. Accept it. Embrace it. My brother's suffering. My sister's suffering. My people's suffering. My own suffering. Is one. Is one. Is one.

I have been in isolation now for over 30 years give and take the odd year when I was married and the years I was raising my son. People were around me but I was always seeking to remove myself from other people and be by myself. Just to decompress and to take the edge off. And it continues till this day. I am a burn victim in the emotional sense. All my senses are raw and open and all things filter through me. I've been this way since inception. As a baby I was isolated. Locked in a room till I broke down the crib as I grew older and stronger. Then, like the tethered elephant captured, a metal clasp around its foot for months and years, learns not to move, not to venture, not to seek its freedom - even after the metal clasp is removed. Its will has been broken - so my urge to seek out human connection has been removed. I hated being alone as a baby with only stuffed animals and a loving mama cat who would venture in to visit. The occasional visit too from humans and I would be held

Arrived back - with my cat in his carrier slung over my shoulder. Waiting, waiting, waiting - for the bus - in the heat, then the dark and surrounded by garbage everywhere under my feet. My camera if I had one would not do it justice. People standing waiting in filth with overturned green plastic trash bins that nobody stands upright and nobody fills. Wrappers, cigarette butts, drinks, spoons, clothing - all strewn about on the ground near the bus stop intermingling with the fumes from the buses that keep coming but mine eludes. My cat is sick. My money is now spent. I purchased some fruit and vegetables, will crush my grapes from some that I have for kiddush. After this, I do not know what will be. At all. I will resort to begging it seems. Simply go out and beg. That too will be a lesson. I have no humility left. No pride. It is what it is. Consciously or un this situation has manifested because of my fears for my cat Jesse who had a bloodied eye. Not feeling well. We traveled throu

A black gray plastic square that rattled a hand wrinkled clutched it held to me as I sat swigging water from a long blue bottle on her orange bed. Here - it is for you. You can fix it she said in a dry parched voice like aged paper crumpled and flat my own hand met hers like a collision. Opened clam like the contents were gold a timepiece broken its face scratched its hour halted somewhere between dawn and the morning with a link missing. Coiled like a dead reptile belted with latches thick but light a tiny chain flopped weakly with no where to connect to and the flat wheel edged along the front seemed weary. My inheritance, given while living - the Omega worn in 4 continents, soaked up her sweat charmed her and others with an air of wealth as it flashed glints in tandem with her breath. I was surprised not unlike how a stranger smiles an unexpected moment this uncommon gesture an act of giving in obligation, but giving still broken and timeless, it was anything if not symbolic.

Hashem, I am very grateful for the tvuna you instilled in me. Even though my nefesh can't wrap itself around what it possesses. Sometimes by fluke, I see. Thank you. I am very very grateful for the clean air that I am able to breathe. B"H. Totally - I thank you. I am very grateful - thankful and blessed to have peace and quiet without motors running around outside. This is a gift. Thank you. I am grateful for the bits of light gleaned. Small like specks - they allow me to continue. Thank you. I am thank filled and grateful for the people you bring into my life. The helpers, the angels, the teachers and the guides. Thank you. Oseh Shalom - todah.