The Inner Sanctum (It's Not as Dramatic as it Sounds)
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 after the sperm donation, making appearances to belittle and to discount for about 11 years till I made Aliyah and left Brooklyn and its chestnut trees for the sand dunes of Bat Yam.
Brentwood was the clone copy of my father. Just what a nice Jewish girl needs. Falling in love with exactly the parallel of the Original Abandoner and to Be Abandoned Again. And it wasn't a 39 year old reacting to the Leaving - it was the 3 year old who never resolved her grief. And so the dying began.
So Brooklyn and Brentwood meshed. And the soul loss was felt and the scraps of what was left were dragged across state lines into PA into the Allegheny forest for the Rainbow Gathering and I managed to get a glimpse of the wreckage from a new vantage point.
And that was the cutting board and the impetus that forced me into looking at where I'd been - the whole story - the ugly, the pathetic and the hope and going for something new. And that something new came to me after meeting up with a Jewish reader of Tarot cards at the gathering who mentioned that he lived in Woodstock and through him I met a guy with a very visible third eye - I mean very visible - in that it BULGED on his forehead and could not be missed.
And through him I met 2 indigo children - one of whom I merged with on a psychic level and his name was Jordan. And he taught me much about space, time and matter. And the cosmos. And that there was something called Light. And his beauty was something to behold. To the degree that I named my Ninja warrior, indigo cat by that name. They both have incredible long black hair. And through Jordan Miller, my indigo friend we passed through that town called Woodstock, and it hit me like a thunderbolt in all its masterful, brilliant voltage. And it was when walking down Mill Hill Rd. that I knew, KNEW - that it wasn't Denver I was after. It wasn't the Rockies I had been pining for - it was the Catskills. I was home.
And for 5 years I called it home. And thoughts, ideas and new seeds were planted. Lots of hashing and rehashing of emotions with no where to place them. I started a 12 Step for Adult Children of Alcoholics - ACOA and ran that for a while. I got a video camera and started doing my interviews. I got a car and drove around every county in upstate NY and discovered why the indians loved this place so very much.
And I got my mountain cats from Woodstock and had a fling with a terribly dysfunctional goy (patterns are hard to break) and smoked a whole lot of pot and drummed in circles. Connected with artists and started feeling a pull to go back to Israel after 2001. Throughout I had The Dream. Community. Inner Sanctum. Mama Nature's Inner Sanctum - the tea/soup/juice/salad/sandwich/cookie bar that would knock and rock people's socks off - if they wore them. It would be the DEFINITIVE place to eat, hang and connect. Runaways would eat for free. There would be a bulletin board in the back to leave messages. The food would be organic, clean and delicious. There would be teas that would re-set the mind, body and soul. Juices to enliven. The decor would be gorgeous. I saw the fountains - inside and out and there would be Kai for the beauty and energy. And it would be my way of earning a living doing what I know how to do. Because I've always done this. And it just seemed like a natural fit - only now I'd be making some money.
And like all things that come into my life - this vision and desire was meant to be put on hold - stuffed into a file somewhere, labeled NEVER. Because life and reactions to it - survival and the energy that takes - the moving, the dealing with stuff, the battles, wars, terrorists - all needed my full attention. And that dream is only that.
Echos from my friend Jordan telling me to go for it and my indian guides telling me to wait. And my own neshama telling me the fruit isn't ripe yet. Give it time.
So I wait.
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 after the sperm donation, making appearances to belittle and to discount for about 11 years till I made Aliyah and left Brooklyn and its chestnut trees for the sand dunes of Bat Yam.
Brentwood was the clone copy of my father. Just what a nice Jewish girl needs. Falling in love with exactly the parallel of the Original Abandoner and to Be Abandoned Again. And it wasn't a 39 year old reacting to the Leaving - it was the 3 year old who never resolved her grief. And so the dying began.
So Brooklyn and Brentwood meshed. And the soul loss was felt and the scraps of what was left were dragged across state lines into PA into the Allegheny forest for the Rainbow Gathering and I managed to get a glimpse of the wreckage from a new vantage point.
And that was the cutting board and the impetus that forced me into looking at where I'd been - the whole story - the ugly, the pathetic and the hope and going for something new. And that something new came to me after meeting up with a Jewish reader of Tarot cards at the gathering who mentioned that he lived in Woodstock and through him I met a guy with a very visible third eye - I mean very visible - in that it BULGED on his forehead and could not be missed.
And through him I met 2 indigo children - one of whom I merged with on a psychic level and his name was Jordan. And he taught me much about space, time and matter. And the cosmos. And that there was something called Light. And his beauty was something to behold. To the degree that I named my Ninja warrior, indigo cat by that name. They both have incredible long black hair. And through Jordan Miller, my indigo friend we passed through that town called Woodstock, and it hit me like a thunderbolt in all its masterful, brilliant voltage. And it was when walking down Mill Hill Rd. that I knew, KNEW - that it wasn't Denver I was after. It wasn't the Rockies I had been pining for - it was the Catskills. I was home.
And for 5 years I called it home. And thoughts, ideas and new seeds were planted. Lots of hashing and rehashing of emotions with no where to place them. I started a 12 Step for Adult Children of Alcoholics - ACOA and ran that for a while. I got a video camera and started doing my interviews. I got a car and drove around every county in upstate NY and discovered why the indians loved this place so very much.
And I got my mountain cats from Woodstock and had a fling with a terribly dysfunctional goy (patterns are hard to break) and smoked a whole lot of pot and drummed in circles. Connected with artists and started feeling a pull to go back to Israel after 2001. Throughout I had The Dream. Community. Inner Sanctum. Mama Nature's Inner Sanctum - the tea/soup/juice/salad/sandwich/cookie bar that would knock and rock people's socks off - if they wore them. It would be the DEFINITIVE place to eat, hang and connect. Runaways would eat for free. There would be a bulletin board in the back to leave messages. The food would be organic, clean and delicious. There would be teas that would re-set the mind, body and soul. Juices to enliven. The decor would be gorgeous. I saw the fountains - inside and out and there would be Kai for the beauty and energy. And it would be my way of earning a living doing what I know how to do. Because I've always done this. And it just seemed like a natural fit - only now I'd be making some money.
And like all things that come into my life - this vision and desire was meant to be put on hold - stuffed into a file somewhere, labeled NEVER. Because life and reactions to it - survival and the energy that takes - the moving, the dealing with stuff, the battles, wars, terrorists - all needed my full attention. And that dream is only that.
Echos from my friend Jordan telling me to go for it and my indian guides telling me to wait. And my own neshama telling me the fruit isn't ripe yet. Give it time.
So I wait.
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