The Path to a Healing Heart

I love my poor abused spine. Born with a bent out of shape design that started blasting pain signals at 14 Enter the era of Milwaukee Brace Wore it for one month Maybe two - my spine remained crooked but the torture chamber I was spared. Enough was enough, you know. My life wasn't normal by any leap of the imagination. Endured so much before 11 Then after 11 the floodgates to Gehenom just flew wide open. But I move beyond myself here When all I wanted to convey is The Final Straw that eventually broke this camel's back in 1992 post-war is now rendering me incapacitated. The surgery in Israel The year of recouping The move to America to get help and Dr.Leary , Patrick, bless his soul Hashem, who saw me way back in the 90's pro-bono because he is/was an angel said it was a complicated case and he hand picks his patients according to the hopelessness and difficulty factor the challenged, the smashed, the deformed and the immobile. I ranked pretty high even then in those depart

Souls of beauty Colors of pure radiance Shining into eternity Adorning the paths of the beloved ones Picked from our midst Leaving empty spaces in hearts and minds but here is brilliance and perfect symmetry on earth that gives of itself in beauty reminding us here of those in heaven.

I went to Jerusalem yesterday to get a donated camera and breathe in. It was hard, then easy. Hard in waiting for the transportation. And the pain in my back and leg. And the frustration of just getting there, till I did. I managed to hit my head on a low canopied bus stop. Somehow the planners thought people need to sit very very low and are very very short. Which I'm not. But I got there. And the ride was ok. And the arrival was ok. I needed the elevation. To get up from this place. And put out my feelers - would this be Home? So I did. And I felt comfortable. It felt like it was a fit. Nothing to strain against. No swimming against the stream. Nothing deficient, constricting or punishing. Just easy and familiar. We go back a while, she and I. I know the digs. But my legs and back couldn't take me far. And shoes. Shoes. Bloody hell shoes. I have worn down Crocs that slip when it's wet and don't support my arches. I have major issues with shoes. I've been wearing t

Yes. It has happened. The mind. Has gone. Snapped. Time lost. A day. Second time that I can remember. Same scenario. Thinking it was Shabbat. When it was *only* Thursday. I prepared. Cooked. Cleaned. Lit candles. Made Kiddush. Then saw people outside. As if a normal evening. Even having bonfires. Because of the Mamouna. Then I found a calender. It said Isru Chag. But my computer told me. That it was Friday. And Chabad site said 8th Day of Omer. Then I went out. To ask. Without looking/sounding like a crazy woman. One neighbor was there. No candles lit. Business as usual. Surreal. Have lost my mind somewhere. If it is lost, I must believe it can be found. I blew out the Shabbat Candles and went online. It is like a dream. Maybe this is a dream. All day long I was conscious of Shabbat coming. Preparing. It was easier. I had energy. Things went smoothly. I just can't believe. It. Dissociation or freak coincidence? I am lost. Truly. Map, light, compass, key - I am 440 light years away

I thought I would die last night. I was suffocating without air. The fear took the last breath from me till I decided between my cat gagging and my others coming over to comfort me to go outside in the night and simply ask for guidance. Should I run to the hospital now? It came to me - I must pray. In this mode of simply being out of body/out of mind it is simply herculean. I turn to Rabbi Meir Baal Haness who has never let me down. But I couldn't find the complete prayer that I had. I looked on the internet - it wasn't there either. Nevertheless, I lit a candle, put money in the tzedakah box and just said the words to call upon his intercession. For a miracle. Let the candle burn all night. Then took out my other means - Rabbi Aryeh Levin Z'L, the Lubavitcher Rebbe and the Book of Raziel - on top of this I recited the Prayer to Eliyahu Hanavi printed by Rabbi Leon Shlita. Then I went to the mezzuzah. Then I beseeched Hashem. I made promises. The night passed. In the mor

This has been the worst holiday - I tried to make it good. I spent money on food, dishes, shlepped, I've spent it in isolation, depression and sheer misery. Tonight my cat has swallowed a fish bone and I am beside myself. In the desert without a vet. I called one - only tomorrow morning. I can't even walk, it's so hot - I'm sick of being in pain, seeing my cats in pain, being under curses and evil eyes that not a day goes by without it being something else to deal with. And my beloved cat is in pain and this kills me. It's probably a salmon bone - I tried praying - I can't even pray. Everything is a hardship. The words like sand. My movements like moving against the wind. I should be happy. It's a time for joyousness. And I can't. I can't rise above it. I've been drinking very heavily this whole week. Downing tranquilizers. In between trying to be happy. Joyous. Now this. My load is too heavy to bear. I can't just can't. I try to be opti

The places - Bat Ayin - 1 room rental - 3 months Alon Shvut - half a caravan 4 months Kiryat Arba - apartment -1 year and 2 months Tzfat - warehouse - 4 months Gedera 2 different apartments - 1.3 years Achuzzam - rental - 1.6 years

Morning of Passover - I awaken, remember to bless the sun, go out into the backyard, say the prayers, feel that there is some kind of diamond matrix around my inner eye, the heat is intense. I go back inside to say the remainder of the morning prayers. I did not wear new clothes. I had none to wear. Later I burn my hametz - did not say the prayer - built a quick little fire, burnt some rice cakes I had, covered it all with dirt and continued to clean. I am still cleaning. My heart starts to pound around early noon. I start self medicating with arak, my heart it really pounding hard I take a tranquilizer. I eat something, wash my face, go out into the garden, inspect my plants and continue to prepare. I finally clear off the table that will become my seder table. I didn't buy pots or pans, only a set of stainless steel storage bins that fit into one another and come with plastic lids. I figure I can cook in them. The night before I went to the mikvah on the moshav and dipped all the

My grandmother seesawed Her hands and chopped Two-tiered Nuts first brains then powder, For the taste, the crunch The filling Pastries hiding low And under blankets To rise, billow become flaky Unsolid air separating layers Of dough shaped beloved by My white haired grandmother. I, like her, crochet I, like her, bake I, like her, isolate For a long time I hated her Berated her for her slowness In comprehending In her gifting me with her daughter In her lapse of saving Her drowning eldest My mother afflicted and cursed And who never did spare me From the rod or the evil eye I was fair game for both To banter between them And I suffering in a corner Finding solace in devil’s cake And barbie dolls yet to be beheaded My mother’s altar of preoccupation The residual of a lifetime of pain It was hard to trust mercury But grandma – grand in your alchemy You knew your dough, your chickens And the approach to newborns You had a stoic stance when it came To my mother SHREI NISHT CHANI The echos o

Vaidy Krishnan

Legs are scarred deep crimson on lily white some deep edged others just a tad scraped indigo Boils or fleas bumps or falls burns or who even remembers right now All I can see are scars big ones some clumped some individual sitting there on their own Some pierced to the bone I know because I felt the groove Purple ones scare me Because they run deep And I never will know if they'll heal over time with vitamin E or A or D or ultra violet I'm scarred on my arms on my hands on my fingers and my toes are broken My spine is shattered and my brain damaged But I'm still here aren't I Is that a miracle or what? It's sad to see my skin pierced so, for my cats I was bitten for the screenless nights I was sucked dry for the rapists I ran blindly for the malnutrition I consumed myself Hard to stand but I walk Hard to look but I gaze Hard to venture but I go Hard to live but I breathe.

In a quest for greens shoots remnant of the rain into the field following strips of land unturned They're falling back now the sun beating down the harsh reality of seasons fused no sigh My eyes catch small things, noticing, gazing over the unmoving to the quiver skills of scout And smell, and energy it took me the path over to where spirit had left a living one It had died not well not naturally or becoming of sentience, but of gain play, cruel and ice cold The same vibe that hurled firecrackers and stones that stole and harassed that cursed and belittled This one, though I am still breathing and the still one - not My legs still free to run Praying for the thirsty and for the bashed ones as the heat rises and fields become holy