The Path to a Healing Heart

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.

We recreate our original traumas with current day dramas.

Well, the End might be right around the corner. According to the *news* - there are a few mad scientists hiding in a lab somewhere who have their fingers on the *button* that will send this planet - world into the Next. Yes. They have managed to devise a way of splitting the atom, create dark matter and apparently destroy that - and in effect bringing us all into the *void and null* we all know so well from Bereishit. So - I'm figuring if it's a done deal and this Tishrei will actively be the 6th Day of Creation when this world was formed - i.e put into motion - hit with the ON switch - infused with Love and Light - then its destruction might be right on target and would require some time to deconstruct completely - and would naturally take its course over a few weeks - till we hit Tishrei. So - how am I spending the Last Days? Well, I'm painting this *dwelling* like I told my landlord I'd do. It's in the contract. Might as well keep my word. It all counts. And I

It feels bloody lousy. That's how. You go outside into the mayhem - say it - MAYHEM of what is called the nearest town 8 km's away from where I live on a Monday - and it's like nails on chalk intermingled with plastic burning and car alarms blasting in your ears without let up while ALL eyes are upon you and the sun is beating down with 95 degrees of *I will burn you up in hell alive* heat and all the while the sheeple, the poor clueless, mantra-cized circa 1950 Aliyah from Morocco keep to the *program* of just how illiterate can we be because the Histradut (Keeping Us in Line Incorporated) told us to play it dumb, so we will - so we will. And anything we see that is flashy and reminds us of a TV program that programmed us last night - we will buy, and we will cackle because that is what we do and we will follow other sheeple because that is what we have been told to do and waiting in line wherever we go is our lot/mission/directive to take and in this nuts are flying, pain

Beit - is the second letter of the Hebrew Alphabet. It is also the word for house. Bayit is a symbol of enclosure. A dwelling. A container. A home. It is constructed from left to right, up to down, right to left - with a solid foundation. It is the numerical value of 2 The Torah begins with the letter beit in the word - Bereishit - In the Beginning... In all beginnings there needs to be a house - something to contain. A vessel that houses all the other vessels. It is comprised of 2 elements - positive and negative which hold it together like magnets. It is the starting point from which all bounty can pour into and fill and share. Open door, open windows, sun filtering in at dawn and filtering out at evening - with both sun rise and sun set visible. A fig tree and grape vine to shade and feed. A place to find peace, solace and refuge.

Shabbat - afternoon. After pouring through some books, words and sleeping to awake in sweat I opted to breathe some fresh air and made my way to the back of the house to the chair that awaits in the midst of wild pomegranates and olives. And I sat and watched thinking I missed something times before. And watched and sat. And all of a sudden the realization that the limbs of the olive tree all faced east and they looked like they were praying in piousness. I don't know if it was to do with the wind, or the time of day or the season. But pray they did. Facing east. And some bowed low. And it's all they did was pray in all seriousness and devotion. Then it occurred to me that is why they are blessed with a long life - because of their devotional prayer and service. It is a reward for their humility and giving. There is nothing flashy or self-important about an olive tree. It exists to serve. And in that service there is a nullification of self to the point where if it were not for

This is not a complaint. This is an observation and a report of what has now taken over our lives here. I love animals - I love nature - but there are certain things which I am not overly fond of - and they have made themselves a home on mine, in mine and around mine - animals, abode and atmosphere. And they are in no particular order - ants, fleas, flies, mosquitos, mites. I also have spiders but I really like spiders and they don't fall under this category at all. We keep each other company - and it's fine by me. But back to the plagues. I have ants everywhere. I have ants coming through the woodwork, through the floor (archaelogical diggings - sand EVERYWHERE - piles of diggings) on the counter, on the table, on the walls and on me. One night - it was motzei shabbat - and like a horror movie - thousands of them hatched. All of the colony - hatched together and these were the big, black carpenter ants - and they just swarmed all over the floor. I had just finished making havd

It's very hard for me - there is no doubt. But there is ALSO no doubt that Hashem knows this. Big time. And I can't help but remember what happened when the Children of Israel complained about their *plight* after leaving Egypt and when they complained to the point where Hashem just essentially gave them something to complain about and none of that generation ever made it to the Promised Land. So I just wanted to put it out there - that I am NOT complaining about Israel. Israel is a holy land and it has immense potential to help heal the world by virtue of its light. I'm just really weary. And I really need help. BIG TIME. I need a home. A Home. And I need it very very soon.

All my life I've been swimming upstream, going against the grain, against consensus and the norm. They used to call that being a non-conformist. Now it's probably a defiant disorder. I just don't mesh, or meld or flow with what's going on here. No way. No how. I'm the perpetual outsider looking in, observing from the sidelines or hiding from too much onslaught of just about everything in waves of heat and messiness. I could probably look away and forgive - and I'm working on that. Don't want this place to become a sounding board for my grievences against the people or the country. I'm so steering clear of that. There were things done - and things said - and my questions have all been left unanswered and my attachment to the land has been severed and there is no passion left. No desire to change *things*. I believe still in providence and hashgacha pratit - if I was meant to stay here I would know it. I would feel it. I don't. I am looking for the tre

I have finally understood that I must leave Israel. All the signs were here - 5 years. I should have buckled before. It would have saved a lot of anger and energy. I simply couldn't make it. Another aliyah failure. More torment then I could imagine, the last straw was having stones thrown at me by Jews for no reason - aside from my resting in the smelly abode I have called my dwelling place since last Tishrei. I should have packed up 5 years ago when the hardships began. I didn't. I thought it could be overcome. I thought I'd make it. I really did give it my best shot. I gave my energy and my blood. Now I can leave and say shalom. Be well. You weren't for me and I wasn't for you - and hopefully no irreversible harm has been done. My back is filled with sores and welts from the rocks thrown and the words hurled and the actions perpetrated and now - enough. No more. I bid you shalom.