The Path to a Healing Heart

The way to stop anything negative is to do its polar opposite and let that effect cause a ripple and then a trend where the critical mass reverses the polarity. The will, intention and action need to be steady and consistent with open heart and actions must always follow the intent without fail, lest a gap and lapse transpire. So you start around you where there is abuse, you take it as your project. Must be close by, close to heart and in eye sight. You must claim this project as a personal one. This translates to doing all from your heart - without asking for anything in return. Altruism. You just do for the sake of love. A small act, a bigger one. You can give money, but it must be for something you care about. You can teach - but teach love. Anything you do about or connected to this - can't be for reward - only to love. And in that love there is profound healing of one individual. And when that one individual is healed then maybe another generation can be healed. Prayer works,...

Father of my Maternal Grandmother Rivka - Nachum - Cantor, Shochet, Father, Friend, Teacher, Rabbi, Grandfather, Great-Grandfather. From A Bundle of Memories By Avraham Yaffe, Tel Aviv, Israel Translated from Hebrew to Yiddish by M. Goelman Translated from Yiddish to English by Dr. Isaac Fine One house in the shtetl was the center for song throughout the entire year, particularly during religious festivals. This was the residence of Cantor Nochum Amdurer . His dwelling was located in Avram- Moishe's house, across from the post office on the corner of Dolistover Street. The Cantor Nochum Amdurer was a beardless man of average stature. He was always seen with a hat and a long coat. Nochum was a schochet, a ritual slaughterer. Day by day he and Yankel, the other schochet would go to the slaughterhouse. On the evening before Yom Kippur, everyone would bring the chickens for slinging to their home. In the fall, when geese and calves were in season at the market, the two men would go t...

My paternal grandfather was Abraham. He was a drinker and barber. He beat his wife and my father said he caused the MS she later suffered by delivering a fatal blow to her neck. My maternal grandfather was Max. He was a furrier and an abusive rageholic my mother being the brunt of his rage and mind games - as she was the eldest. Police were called in constantly as per the eye witness account of my great aunt. My grandparents divorced. My mother's siblings didn't fare very well. While their light shone in some directions - music wise - in New Orleans and later in LA - both brothers of my mother died of unnatural causes. I only met my paternal grandfather once. We went swimming. He demonstrated the art of using two hands clasped as a squirting mechanism, and later if I recall correctly, how to utilize the same out of water as a whistle. My great-grandfather on my mother's side was Nahum, who was a beloved shochet and chazzan in the shtetl of Goniadz .

I don't know where this tree is - I just did a search on Google for Pardess Katz and found it. Tried locating the owner - no success. This is their blog - http://israel-is.spaces.live.com/blog/

In 1970, my mother took me to Israel - as her resolve to save me from a fate of drugs and violence in the States. Where she took me was a township belonging to the municipality of Bnei Brak called Tel Giborim. Named after the men who were killed during the war of independence - The Hill of the Heroic. I was the token American girl with her limping dog Corky, in the midst of a neighborhood of combined backgrounds - Polish, Roumanian, Iraqi, Morrocan, Kurdish, Libyan, Yemenite. The full melting pot. At first I was sent to learn in a religious school called Yesodot, but after 6 months I wanted out. I simply couldn't understand. I couldn't cope either with what was going on at home. My mother was again mentally unwell. Her rages were getting more frequent, her outbursts and her depressions. continued HERE

And there is something to be learned in everything - what is to be learned from receiving my mail and packages torn open by rummaging stranger's hands? I have received letters - torn open, missing then somehow someone *finds* it and asks innocently - Is this yours? I have received packages literally torn open - every single time. Each time I ask the 2 old people who deliver the mail - why - they answer it comes in that way from Ashkelon's main post office. So - possibilities might be - Lesson 1 - move to a place where thieves aren't rampantly scavanging in other people's mail Lesson 2 - decide that nothing is worth getting mind-fd over for Lesson 3 - get a POB 10 miles away necessitating travel, bother and worry - not to mention time Lesson 4 - next time self-send a package to self containing cat turds - and just laugh at the absurdity of it all Lesson 5- Go over Thou Shall Not Covet a few times every day and maybe make a T-Shirt saying Thou Shall Not Covet - Ask Me! L...

Red gloves cold shiver On the penny copper doormat fallen like metallic balloons A pair as bizarre as the ladies that rattle tits with ice in grandeur with frozen smiles holding rancor and crassness in their vapid palms and naked arms.

Seems like animals are being sacrificed today in Israel more than ever before. READ ON:

While I'm waiting to be released from this place I'm in now, been observing - or attempting to observe the olive trees that sporadically grow around the place I'm renting. Here are some outlines: they seem to be otherworldly and aloof. Of this world, rooted here but they are - unlike the pines - answer directly to a higher order, bypassing the rules other species follow. They seem not to be part of the *families* I've observed in pines. They do not regenerate after cuts or tears as easily or if at all, like the other species I've observed Upstate - they will allow withering, dying to the extent of complete limbs lying dead on a tree. It is a tree of extremes. The flowers are small and white - 4 petals. They bloom for about 2 weeks then drop off. After this display, tiny nubs will appear in clusters. These will become the fruit. There is a slow pace, but constant and consistent. Not unlike the tortoise. Come what may, unflappably, tenaciously - fruit will yet appe...

Went to Beer Sheba today to get shmitta vegetables. Only the veggies that came from foreigners would do. And in going I viewed the landscape - rough, miles of sand intermingled with clumps of wild plants, and in between the acacia trees, a few palms and as things would be had did see camels. And it's 40 km's roughly from where I lay my head to where I needed to be going. And the crocs I have had for the last year give or take are worn till there's no tread and walking is hard anyway. But I needed a break from the break in my skull from 3 weeks ago that still hasn't healed, slow bleed maybe, and the ulcer my cat has, and the slowly being poisoned by the burning garbage across the road that is the city dump. A break. Some exercise that is needed. And so to shopping, eyes down. And to walking eyes down. And the noises I hardly hear outside maybe because I'm bombarded from all angles and completely numbing is the tactic. Went for shitakes after - walked a long time in...

Shalom God. You see me day after day and I wonder what you know about me. Maybe you'd like to share what you have in mind for me? What is it about suffering that you want me to know? Certainly it's not optional because over 49 years I've chosen NOT to suffer, yet there it came in all its guises and disguises sucking the lifeforce from me. And you remained silent. Why? Do you care to tell me what it is that I did in previous lives to warrant what I've gone through since inception? Do you know that I spoke to a rabbi who told me that I was suffering for clal yisrael? That doesn't help me in knowing that. I have undergone the horrors that You and I both know about. What do you ask from me that I already haven't given? Job - Joy - there is little difference. You allowed the Satan to suck the lifeforce out of him. You said you knew that Job would emerge with his faith in You. So you allowed it. And how long did his suffering endure? And how long has mine endured? A...

In 2007 A total of 340,637 animal experiments were conducted in Israel, an increase of 11 percent from last year. How many animals need to suffer before we understand that there are alternatives to animal experimentations, that their biologies are different from humans and we gain nothing but only lose our semblance of humanity in which we are to be guardians and protectors of the animals. But instead we do just the opposite in causing them untold suffering. Let's get the message to where it needs to be going and start becoming a true light unto the nations. Animal experimentation does not save lives, it destroys them. The time for the scientific myth to be put to rest is now. Help the message get across. By as many people as possible. From every single corner of the globe. Irregardless of nation, persuasion, politics or race. Because we are, all created from One Fabric of Humanity. And because what transpires in Israel - ripples out to the entire world. From this moment. Be a Ligh...

To write for peace is Seeing with the eyes of a child Writing with the hand of a leper On paper that is stained with tears For a population awakened from their slumber and who can see the reflection of their souls in the eyes of a stranger.

I figured I'm bitching enough. There's a time to bitch and a time to just be and to be grateful for what is. There are 10 things right now in my mind that meet that criteria and they are: 10 - I am grateful and thankful to Hashem for moments of silence 9 - I am grateful and thankful to Hashem for food in my stomach 8 - I am grateful and thankful to Hashem to have a roof over my head 7 - I am grateful and thankful to Hashem to be pain free 6 - I am grateful and thankful to Hashem to have clothes 5 - I am grateful and thankful to Hashem to have smoke/smog free air 4 - I am grateful and thankful to Hashem for meeting very kind people on the internet 3 - I am grateful and thankful to Hashem for health and protection of my loved ones 2 - I am grateful and thankful to Hashem for the ability to communicate 1 - I am grateful and thankful to to Hashem for bringing me out of Egypt

Void, dark the atmosphere reliant on memory and desire alone the surge, the passion, the cutting across the abyss to secure a space in time, a place in chaos. Swirling the black spirals amassed wheel within wheel of emptiness, the fear of becoming the dread of allowing, the terror of bestowing. Here the spark shooting a seed from Itself into itself a tremble and quake within the speck of what it was once nothingness. It flips and divides and it slides and caves it breaks and it halves and it slows and it halts and it moves it shatters and it trembles and it collapses and it wobbles. The aloneness of it being something unknown to itself and then being its mirror likeness and then shattering. Implosions one on top of one on top of one on top of one. And below it the shifting of particles formed from a dream screaming into the silence i am born - real - alive - now - here. In the speck the cosmos, and in the cosmos the eye of its Creator the Mind halved and joined in the primal union of O...

Three - Nantucket Island, 4th of July Reprieve from mother's manic episodes A ferry across the channel to move some energy and 3 females in their various stances, ages and dispositions - this one a toddler of 3. The firecrackers blasting the fireworks bombarding, I am screaming NO MORE and the laughing off of my terror *it's nothing* *don't be afraid* *it's pretty, look* Try saying this to an animal caught in the headlights and lighting a firecracker to boot. Doesn't work. In fact, the animal will more than likely collapse in heart failure. To this day - I am so very sensitive to noises. Smells. Energy. Particularly engines and explosions, dogs barking and the smell of smoke. Could this be a carry over from a previous life? Holocaust? I was in the back of the truck where we were gassed. The dogs were barking. The engines being revved up. The harder they were revved the more exhaust. The more exhaust the more lethal the dose. And the explosions of bombs going off. Th...

(How to protest bigotry - my reply to someone online yesterday on a forum) You can't fight fire with fire, and wind will only strengthen the fire. Water will do wonders, lots of it. And what is water? It's love. It flows. It reaches all low places. It wears down the strongest rock and drowns out the low roar of flames. If you really want to be effective you pour out your heart - through song, prayer, poetry and soft expression. The energy will counter any negativity they will be emitting. This is only a test. Who is stronger - the light or the darkness. Do not antagonize. Do not taunt. Do not mock. And do not have a screaming match. This is exactly what the device they represent wants. photo by fotorita Postnote - Heck, water ripples and fire consumes!

In 2000 my car was impounded for something stupid. Wait, let me reiterate here. It was multi-level stupid. It was stupid/crazy that you just knew had to act as the impetus for some kind of chain reaction. Like a sling-shot into a pit filled with explosives. All it took was one hit and my whole world exploded apart. Was a day in the autumn - Shabbat and I was looking forward to taking in as many yard sales as I could. It was a favorite pastime. I'd scan the local paper for whatever sales appealed, namely books, crystals and music. It was my way of seeing the Catskills and of course it was always the way God spoke to me. There was a good looking yard sale happening a few minutes away from me down the mountain and across the road and for a worthy cause to boot, an animal rescue. What could be better? I'd be in and out fast, the selection would probably be decent and the prices el cheapo. Perfect. The fact that my insurance had lapsed and my license still wasn't renewed was...

April 2007 - writing from the darkness - reprinted to remember the reprieve however subtle. Would like to start this log without the use of I at the beginning. Here. It’s the day of all things sodden and low, where a thousand thoughts of how to escape are rambling through my mind. I’m losing it once more, the panic sets in and there is no rest. I did manage to sleep and not twist myself into a night of despairing insomnia – but at roughly 4 awakened by mati attacking chichi and chichi screaming – so I got up and opened the door for the frisky mati and returned to bed to sleep. Felt drugged. Could have been the chai tea I made before sleeping – goats milk, honey, black tea, cinnamon and gram massalah. Potent. Now day after, the depression is hitting me way on the head and feel like offing self. Just see no way out. Rock bottom a one more time. And am eating carbs to take the edge off and drinking almost a bottle of red. This is a go between place of neither here nor there. Where am I a...

She sought a channel for her love this year. Where to lay her happiness. In what color, what song. The trees they offered their leaves to glorify the ease in which the wind flows. The sand and stone combined to receive her tears, to cleanse them, breathe them and return them as rain. The waters from the falls spoke of moving faster as time was nearing. The fires springing from her belly consumed higher and earth stopped and paused. Earth reflected back what she saw. Listened to wind for its wisdom, the songs of Joy captured the sweetness of breath, the prisms of prayer eluded, not staying for a whisper. Colors of green and brown and blue were presented and accepted. Red, orange and yellow were far even though the fires raged. The fires were old and musty, not serving passion or safety. Fires of old were smoldering gray billows now. Purpose of divinity craved yet blocked. Earth slowed for a minute and in that stopping, Spirit entered, a spiral creating a channel and through this lo...

(found in a pile of my writings today - written in the 90's - correlations between trees, limbs and my surgery at 8) Gangling tightness it sparked terror The thread, the knife the needle. All fire, all belonging to the bearer of subtlety. The Raven, white a surprise more startling than the hail forest green leopard eyes Silk like Tibetan gowns. Yellow the first glimpse of cranberry and the dart of an eye the throw of the head the weak gesture of the throat. Fall to fall on knees On face, on the ground. Fall to fall, blanched corroding Like the filigreed leaves. The aspen coat, skin of poplar our grace unbent. Skeletal fragrance Embedded in the core I beseech wisdom Savor the promise The creaks, the cries I fade with night.

I met a Russian rocket scientist in Brooklyn. A real one. He used to be in charge of propulsion systems the ones they put in ballistic missiles. Till he saw the light and just stopped. He didn't want to be part of the Killing Machine. He was Jewish but married a non. His light was bright. We hit it off. And talked about life the philosophers that we are born to be. Now I can't remember his name. He changed his vocation from destruction to rebuilding and would pick out the tossed away computers in the early 90's and build functional ones to sell or give away. His name will come to me. Yuri? Yigor? I forget details. He lived on the same street just an avenue away. And so he built me a computer to surf away my life on a mix of Hewlett Packard and an array of unknown cards and boards that worked under Windows 3 then 98 a life saver. the only way to survive when you're living on prayers, charity and whatever may come in the guise of a blessing. East 18th it was. Same street ...

I never really had a childhood. Hashem let me have one and brought me to Woodstock where I got to play, get dirty, have some fun and let go of some of the heavy load. My dog Lady is still buried there. Under a stone in the shape of a heart.

Going back in time - 1999 - I was living in Brooklyn. Sort of dying. My mind was imploding in the worst way. I had fallen in love and was ceremoniously dumped by a charming, creative rich guy from Brentwood, California who I met in a 12 Step Meeting at the 14th Street Workshop in NYC, the sign on the door said - Adult Children of Holocaust Survivors - Second Generation. I was third, I figured I qualified. Pogroms, shooting and Hitler all figured in to my childhood. I belonged. He had it all - in my book at least. Dysfunction - major player. Bearded? Put down 2 points for that. Smart and creative - oh my gosh - let's just get married!! And the whirlwind of how low can I go and how much can I take and how far will this expand to and what is the nearest suicide hotline number ensued. And it was a perfect reinstating of that original cut, smack and hiss to my soul when my father left my mother and me - I was 3 or 4 when Daddy finally physically left. But essentially he made his exit...

Named after my great-aunt Zelda, my mother thought it was a good name to give me. I've been having some thoughts on the subject. Like maybe changing this name. When I arrived in Israel at age 11, and was asked my Hebrew name - I said I had one but didn't like it - so they gave me Gila - as in happiness/joy. That stuck for the duration of my school years in Israel approximately 4 total - (left school officially in the 9th grade and never returned). For years went back to Joy, then started looking at Zilpah till one Syrian rabbi in Brooklyn told me it was a bad name. *Do you want to be called Zal Peh?* Which essentially is breaking the name Zilpah into 2 words - Zal meaning slow and peh meaning mouth. I.e a stupid woman who spews nothing but minutia. Then when I came back to Israel I spoke to Rabbi Ginsburg who said she was one of the 4 mothers and it was a good name. How can she be one of the 4 mothers if the mothers are Sarah Rebecca Rachel Leah And there's no mention of SI...

These hands rolled out lengths of rope herding in the wild bucks, the wind-shafted saplings and the rising dough. As the sun flares so does the whip snapping here to head, there to pen, there to limb, the elements they all combine like the composites that comprise and the flowers that die, the flutter of an eye. Red, green, blue, yellow - shake it up, shake it up. The blood it's running fast into the yellow bile and the orange will be filtered into green bile and the green bile into black which is a sister to red and the movement is haste and the volatility is rapid and the time is now. Born here I am. To you. I am to you, as you are to Rebecca and the generations bust up, empty out, solidify and become caverns in the wilderness. There's no turning back and there's no looking forward in the hail and brimstone. I'm bruised. I'm battered. I'm tired and I've had it. There's little sustaining me. All these years I've been eating eggshells on toast and wa...

This is what I've been wanting to do for a long time. Got it out and now it's being dusted off - might as well let it all roll while I'm still here and people are reading this blog. Everyone needs a vision. Here is the one I chose to conceive. A healing center to be a teaching/learning institute, but also a small sustainable community, based in a mountainous region in Israel. I say that tentatively right now because as things are to start anything of this magnitude without interference is a challenge. But it would seem that the area of the Galillee would be suitable. Essentially the greatest minds of the world in various areas of healing would come to this place for a certain amount of time agreed up to teach or for retreat. The uniqueness of the center would be in its adherence to the Laws of Creation, in all aspects. Everything from the architecture, food, placement, teachings would be in alignment with the Laws. Which are basically reflected in the laws of Noah handed do...

All plagues are coming through on right side. Broke right foot, right side of back of head smashed, now I have a gum infection on the right side of my mouth. I have some kind of knotted vein that burns/hurts like crazy right under my right knee for 2 years now. What is up kaballistically - energetically? I do not know. I am in pain - all the time. Another affliction from this house. I started to pack today. On friday I was able to score an Easy Cap device that would allow me finally to work on the hours of video I took in NY and here. Stuff that I worked damn hard on. Interviews with healers, stuff from my moves, people - things, places. And the Easy Cap worked fine - and now it's my Sony Analog Handy Cam that's just dying. It's always something. I can't get a break. It works then it stops, then something starts flashing inside - an icon and I haven't the slightest idea wtf it is. Consulted the Sony Handycam manual that I brought with me - it just says - it'...

Letting YT and Blogger merge a tad

I've been living in a place that puts the evil eye on people then hires other people to take the curse off. Case in mind - I now live in a house of the official curse remover of the region who passed on from this world about 15 years ago. Dahab Megidish. That was his name. Renowned all over for his abilities in removing evil eyes, curses and anything of the darkness that would stick to a person and render them incapacitated. Since moving in - my cat was mauled, I've been beseiged with all kinds of illnesses, I broke my foot, I fell prey to all sorts of misfortunes and just a few minutes ago lost consciousness, hit my head on the wall, bleeding and feeling sick. Not going to the hospital - so please don't harp on this. At least till some other symptom arises aside from the bleeding, pain and general feeling sick. Do energies get stuck in the walls of a place? Yep. Do I feel that the energies are stuck in this place? Yep. Do I feel that the energies are all around this place?...