The Path to a Healing Heart

I managed to drive myself into a full-blown panic attack. Mati is not eating, I went out to some neighbors to find an IV set, nobody had one, had one that was used at home, went back, Mati was outside, she entered not before I tried to give her something to eat, she took one bite and started to meow. I went into panic, administered her IV subq, she went outside again. In between preparations for Shabbat, everything from clothes, to salad, to cholent, to making her a slurry, to preparing colloidal silver to actually sewing together 3 blankets I managed to score at a thrift shop so that when people come over to sit on my sofa that I made, that it would be more comfortable. I sewed them together then folded everything and sewed it into half so the cushioning would be more. Now my heart is beating so fast. I tried everything from minerals to wine to weed, to breathing to not thinking now will pray. Shabbat Shalom of healing

It seems this is a constant. My beloved Mati, who has been with me and I with her for the last 15 years is sick. I don't know what is going on, it basically started with a new brand of food. Vomit ensued and then being spaced out, behavior changes and now she is outside again after being outdoors for most of the day. I don't know where she is or what she is doing. The last time she had bloodwork done was last year, indicators of thyroid and kidney issues. It was wait and watch, which I have been doing in between my own health challenges. She simply does not look well and to take her to a vet - among the vets that I know - who will do what they know so well, to take blood and stress her out, that's not even talking about how to get there - bus or hitchhiking, worst nightmare. Is she eating grass to alleviate her nausea now? Is she going to hide under a tree to find solace? I tried to give her something to eat, she took a bite, pale and frail that she is and just refused the ...

I am not sleeping, have not been sleeping well for years. Who really does know how long this hyperparathyroidism that I've managed to collect into me has been a resident. All I know is that for the past several years sleep has been elusive. I close my eyes, fall into slumber then awake throughout the night. My dreams elude as well. Now my face is unrecognizable. Black rings under eyes, face and tongue swollen and it is into this world I am born anew every day. For this I say: Modah Ani, because there is a plan. I know and it's only the channel of this lifetime that I need to change. Rememberances of sitting with my mother at a mental health clinic where she had regressed into a child-like state. Her age or mine I do not recall. There were so many instances where I, as human was not a cause or being to her and from that I grew consciousness about self and belonging. This theme has replayed itself so many times, it cannot be counted. I should be grateful. I should be. I would be....

I ventured outside this morning, to be one with the green, grey and opened skies, necessitating climbing hills, up a mountain, down and then through a clearing to retrieve a baker's rack that I had hidden behind some bushes a few days before. I had to plan how to get it without dying in the process. I have a wagon that I repurposed a while back to make things easier for me in the garden, this was now to be my aide in bringing the rack back over the mountain and through the hills, pushing lightly because the wheels are that good and bouncy and if needed I would rest along the way. Retrieve, I did, tied it to the wagon, started the ascension and all was ok for the first 5 minutes, then my heart started fluttering so I sat down to rest. It was sheer and I mean sheer divine providence that I had my Rescue Remedy in the pocket of my jacket. Usually it's in my handbag at all time. I never leave the house without it because it can help in case of a SVT. So I took a few drops. Rested...

There was no sound coming from the outside. A dull yellow pale afternoon hanging heavy, the only distraction, the sweet grass smell freshly chopped. And who could tell it was afternoon in the endless ocher but for the puffed out sun in a silver shadow floating somewhere between the heavens marking 2-ish. There was the silence the still moments between the frenzy, between the chaotic jolts and the feverish interactions that comprised the life we shared, my 2 female feline allies and I. The rest mattered little in those spaces of time, all that was, was lifting self out in a dissociative effort and waiting to return when the coast was clear – but it was never a full return. Some parts were left either submerged or in endless and perpetual hiding. Maybe with the sun – somewhere in between the layers that heaven was made of. Still they stayed afloat – those removed pieces of self and soul – for the safekeeping of the angels. They were perpetually young and undamaged, but like amputated ...

With pericardial effusion, heart failure, the energizer bunny till she falls in full regalia, surrounded by hills of occupation, non-occupation, history and pathos, I venture out towards the city of shilo, the atmosphere of which, still, in spite of her being whored out to the highest bidder, still holds the energy of holiness to those who can comprehend. The entire area is being whored out. The entire country is being whored out. Regardless, I focus on the growing things and the hills that drip and shine from the waters that they hold and release. I notice the rock formations, different in each few meters. A perpetual changing of personality, smooth, ragged, jagged, even, uneven, white, yellow, green. I see it all. An unregulated empath among the collective. In the rain, if only to garnish some healing. In shilo there is some healing left. I go to furnish myself and my inner kingdom some nourishment for Shabbat. It is always hard for me to be among the masses,  since childhood. ...

Every relationship brings with it an emotional response. All senses that engage with an object bring with it some type of emotional response. When the mind and heart are coupled in unison with this emotional response a neuro pathway is reinforced. A cycle and a pattern are created. Foundations set into motion as they draw from the genetic material with additives of the experience, frequency, volatility and vibratory. It will be proven at some junction that these are in fact the foundation of Hebrew letters and the vowels, each permutation absorbed in infinite variations of sequences. So in unconsciousness this cycle/orbit  is formed,, which becomes a *habit* of the mind and perpetuates throughout one's lifetime. The end result of every such reinforcement is what is known as the pay-off. The chemical release into the system that feeds the memory that is triggered by the cycle that stems from the original experience. It happens in a flash, as quick as light speed. It does...

Two trips to the ER in less than 7 days. Things are not what they could be. It could be better. It could be sublime. It could be paradise. It could be a whole new world. Like looking down at a departed body, I am that soul. In sorrow  I find myself in this state. It could be so many things and then it could all be chalked down to my parathyroid. Or not. For every 10 doctors seen, 10 different opinions and everyone seems to be missing the mark. It would appear that this is not ordinary, because if it were, logic computes, there would be stats, labs to support a systematic malady, one symptom of which being elevated PTH. Perhaps even daring to venture and hypothesize by adding another and that would be elevated blood pressure inclusive of pain. I'd like to say it was a beautiful day, the elegance of green emerging from grey is splendid and the birds' forthcoming banter is uplifting to the mind body. Yes, said but not quite felt. It seems I move through air with a heaviness of b...

On 02-02-2020, a good as day as any, I sit and ponder this blog out of commission for so long, being brought back to life, for the sheer laziness and opting out of confusion of starting a new one. This will do. So much has transpired since the last post, my mama cat Chichi passed, as did my 2 others, Jesse and Jordan. We moved, Chichi and Mati and I to the hills of Samaria, not before landing for a stint in Bnei Brak in my late mother's apartment; as we were homeless with no where else to go, my health failing and my mental status at an all time low. We were there for about 2 and a half years during which I had been suffering from intermittent arrhythmia and severe depression. I managed also to develop very strange rashes on my body. Not one doctor was able to say what was going on with me. I tried to focus on finding a more permanent home solution, a place to rest, to breathe fresh air, constantly on the lookout for one place and it did manifest at the last moment. But prior ...

So long it's been since last posting. oh well. just thought it would be interesting to write something in lieu of the last few years and their impact. reaching now ground zero where there is nothingness all around just empty space not caring not attached just accepting and being in the pain not fighting surrendering I spent all day in bed reading resting contemplating trying hard to not think just to be clearing cobwebs from the mind finding solace in quiet, clean air and the fan. Tomorrow I should have been on my way to Yahud. To visit Yehudah Ben Yaakov. Unfortunately I missed my chair in trying to sit and fell down hard on the stone floor I can still feel my legs I believe it is a sprain or maybe a hairline fracture of the coccyx Regardless - it is painful I should be grateful that I didnt kill myself as I've heard these things happen from time to time.

View normal The map the horizon The ever after of The beginning Of the end Seems I can gauge But I cant spell it The state of bearing 4 directions all but for upwards and downwards the defaults of this organism. Color this world today In a salad toss Of green, gold and red Perk it up Say the word Bringing life to the carcass Resurrection Off the mount In the valley Under cliffed gray A few goats And the sky And for red Lets tie a ribbon Of scarlet on a prayer And skid it across the Prairie Let it land where it will Let it be carried if it will Le the sun and wind And rain transmute Blood into water Into earth Into stone.

It will be hard. Getting there. Showing up. I am the pariah the scapegoat and the energy turned inside out The push or annihilation The final push to the finish line or I will be finished. I can't bear another year of this existence. I've clung too long to this raft set on foreign shores forcing myself into thinking that this is just a dream and it will soon be over and the shore the elusive shore will finally emerge from the fog. My arms are too weary now. My nails are chipped and my body heavy with fatigue there is no shore there is only water rapidly rising to take me along to the depths wanting to claim me and the pull is great great great All I have to do is let go and sink - let the water fill me to become one and find home at final last.

One month and counting without sleep. My cat who is in pain wakes me up before dawn after I've had only 2 hours sleep. I give her some painkiller, or food and I try to get back to sleep but can't. This is a very hard place to be in. I am exhausted all the time. The strain of not finding a place, the holidays, the sense of total alienation and guilt combined for not being a better - whatever And my cat - who I can't help - that is the worst. I am simply at a stalemate on where to do what to do - how to do it and how to afford it this after spending thousands of shekels I was supposed to use for moving for my cats at vets. They all got sick - I kept shlepping them in taxis back and forth to this clinic where they essentially did nothing but the same routine standard blood tests without ever diagnosing the issues at hand properly. I had to then go back like a dummy, log on and find the actual remedies that were needed and the proper treatment - and then spend more money for th...

My father died on this day - 27 Elul. He was a smart man, a man who loved to delve into different angles and the mystery of things. He built his first ham radio at a young age and was a ham aficionado for the remainder of his life. Valedictorian of his class, he graduated from High School at 16 and entered podiatry school. Then a stint in the army during WW2 where he treated foot wounds. His passions in life lied with the stars, telescopes, cameras and photography. He loved to travel and see the world. He would spend hours in his dark room developing photos he'd taken on sojourns into Manhattan and beyond. Always looking for the perfect shot. He was funny, interesting and had a good measure of charisma. He was the only son of 4 daughters, born to Molly and Abraham Kauflauwitz. He wanted to live the good life and managed to buy a home on Long Island for my mother and their 3 children. He had a practice on the basement floor. I never saw much of him and that was a very strange feelin...

I need dishes. I have but one plate that is used in rotation. I have no gas and will use a hot plate in rotation. I have some vegetables. Maybe will pick some pomegranates. I have some tempeh and tofu. Will make a stir fry. But do not have oil. That will be hard. I have not done shopping. I will make a movie on this and post. Let the video speak for itself. And be happy. Yes. And reach for all the blessings on the day of Judgment.

The small voice just got smaller. So I asked this person a question, hoping to get something beyond the pat. And this is how it went: *I'd like to posit a question for the writer of this article - and hope to receive an answer before Rosh Hashana - and that is - what role does she think/believe the klal to play in the Teshuva processes of those tinokot shenishbu - i.e. the ones that fell through the cracks, that need extra support. Where does the notion of Kol Yisrael Arievim Zeh Le-Zeh play out and figure into the equation of Teshuvah. Is in fact, Teshuvah a solely personal and solitary endeavor? And what if that person embarking on such an endeavor find themselves incapacitated, blinded, deafened or rendered imobile for whatever reason, being orphaned, widowed or sunken into poverty - what role and how much of a percentage does the role of the klal play - if at all - in the process of teshuvah of that individual? Also it would be helpful to know why this concept isn't spoken ...

Never experienced joy on a holiday. It is a riddle. Like many things never experienced. Climbing Mt.Fuji for example. My grandmother did cook and bake and surely she was a genius in the kitchen may Hashem bless her soul for eternity. But there it ended. For the food was mixed up with the negativity of emotions that pervaded the household of the angry ones, the misplaced and the silently brooding. Synagogue was an opportunity to be *on* and be what we never were and I dreaded, no - hated it. Screaming matches would begin but it was rare that I yielded. Pitch forks and hot coals. I would stay home alone during those days trying to re-piece fragments. The Holy Days - of avoidance, non-participatory pastimes where the Jewish people, God and I were on opposite sides. Us and Them. And Them were never at war with each other holding knives and cramming heads into ovens. Simpler people with uncomplicated lives. And God was furious at me as I was told because of the suffering I caused my mother....

Such an important lesson right there. When the absolute atomic bomb comes crashing down and shooting out nuclear fallout and debris where AM I holding? Who do I trust? What IS my first reaction? PANIC. That's where I hold. Just plain old panic. The same conditioning that is prevalent first row core disposition that's running the show. Well, I lose something - go into panic. It's usually around that. Symptomatic of losing trust, losing security, comfort - the first barrier that protects. Root chakra. Evident in my broken back and broken relationships that are pathetic attempts to rise above in spite of having no solid foundation. Only guesswork. ARGH. So tests come. Big time. Hello tests, how are you today? Did you enjoy the little performance of angst and thoughts of annihilation that went on just before? Did you? Did you? Regardless. It's Amalek. And the instances that come between the panic and understanding are getting shorter - indication of movement towards wholene...

God hears all prayers. Sooner or later the answer will come. Do not ever give up. Or think that He can't hear. He does. Always. Without fail. And the answer will always be what is most perfect for your greater growth. All prayers are heard so pray and direct them to Him who hears all prayers.

I was the invisible child. Never mattered unless I reflected back to them for them something of worth they could add to themselves. Of myself for myself I didn't matter. I was as in the words uttered to me *You were a mistake*. So live with that notion for years and try to decipher truths from lying lips and untwist the twisted and make sense of the chaos and unreality and knowing all the while that the farce is in full swing even though you're only 3 years old - you know and are told insidiously to play along or warrant annihilation - so you do but fighting it and them and their lies and their stupidity - all the way. A scene from a day in the life of an invisible child and the players who share/d the same blood - nefesh as I and their distance and indifference - just one scene of the thousands till I upped one day as all did except birth mother - and left the scene of the crime. Who we see here - mother, sister, brother, dog Ginger, myself in the distance with a neighbor. Tow...