“Isn’t it always love…” Twenty Five Years Tomorrow

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Kevin and Nicole May 14, 1989-Wedding Day, Billboard Photoshop made by Helen Redman
May 14, 1989-Wedding Day,                                                                      Billboard Photoshop made by Helen Redman

“Isn’t it always love that makes you hang your head, isn’t it always love that makes you cry and isn’t it always love that takes the tears away and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” –Karla Bonoff

So, tomorrow marks 25 years of being married to the same phenomenal man, my husband, who prefers if I do not talk about him in this public arena. So, I won’t go into the intimate details, but I do have to share a little about what is true for me as I am in this very real moment of my life.

I have been exhausted and overly engaged with the suffering, broken nature, wounding and pain of so many folks and the planet in the last year. Overly engaged is of course a judgment call and a loaded statement, and it’s how I sometimes feel. This morning I woke up feeling so congested with everyone’s pain that I was basically just a large mass of leaky tears. I feel the suffering of others in my body, I always have. I feel their pleasure and delight as well, their anger and their fear. I remember when the Empath character was first introduced on Star Trek and I was so happy to see someone who I could actually feel kinship with, it helped me feel less like an alien. Of course she was an alien, and often I feel like one as well.

“Kirk has suffered a cut on his forehead and when he touches Gem to see if she is all right, she recoils in pain. Gem composes herself and then touches Kirk’s wound. With a flash, the wound is transferred to Gem’s forehead. A doubting Kirk touches her wound and notes the blood on his finger. Suddenly, the wound on Gem’s forehead heals as well. McCoy, observing, is clearly impressed by her ability to heal and surmises that Gem is an Empath. Her emotional system is so sensitive that it feels the pain of another and that pain becomes part of her, before she dissipates it.” – from The Empath Episode

There are days when I wish I didn’t feel so much, didn’t love so much, but mostly

“I wouldn’t have it any other way.”

So, this morning my husband had to hold me while I cried, something he is very used to and has gotten better at over the years. We had to rouse ourselves to get our youngest son, Ethan, ready for his first IB test (International Baccalaureate). My boy asked me last night if I would make him a hearty and special breakfast. He wanted a home-made mama pancake and some plain yogurt with strawberries, bananas and cashews. So, I moved myself to get out of bed and make his breakfast before his first big major test of the IB.

I asked my husband to put some good music on and Karla Bonoff is who he put on for me. This was a mixed blessing, since every song made me start crying anew. And, yet the excellence of an artist at the top of her game is also something I feel deeply and when I experience beauty and harmony it also moves through me and washes every cell in my body with delight. My husband knows music as medicine and as balm and as stimulus. He knows it in his core and he wields this like a master wields a sword or a paintbrush and colors all of our lives with exactly the right music at the right time.

While endeavoring to do what I needed to do for my son, I was also trying to keep my tears from this lovely seventeen year old boy, who doesn’t need to know about my sadness right now, or ever really. His job is to do well and be well and not to navigate the territory of my empathic nature. It is generally not the job of our children to take care of us, even though sometimes they have to when they are young. When we are old, it will be their duty, but not while they are young, it is not their job. Unfortunately, life doesn’t always allow for this and many of us  take care of our parents or feel their pain in different ways. This is the “tears of love” that one sometimes wishes we didn’t have to feel. Parents should feel the pain of their children, when they know about it. It is NO FUN at all when they are suffering, and it’s what motivates you to keep them from that pain if you can. You don’t have to be an empathic being to feel the fear and hurt of children.

My parents rejoiced deep in their bones when this man came into our lives. They knew he was a good man and that they could worry less about me and my wild and crazy ways. I had found a home, a good home, with a safe and kind man.

So, I bow now, deep and low to my husband, who is not a religious man, who works hard everyday for our family, who loves to joke and who loves music and books and art and all of us. He found me lost with two small children over 25 years ago and something in him said she’s the one. He fell in love also with my first two children, who were four and one at that time, and he took them to raise and be his own. He truly rescued us, and even though most folks don’t believe in fairy tales, I always have and do, and my prince did show up and has consistently shown up for all of us.

My tears have abated now, since I am writing about something truly extraordinary, the beauty and love of my marriage and the long journey of being with one extraordinary person over many years. It feels like five minutes, really. I need another 2,000 years with this man, but I know every day I get with him is a gift. Maybe, if our souls are linked across time, I will have 2,000 more years with him and perhaps I’ve had millions of years with him, I cannot know that.

What I do know is that it takes work and a constant commitment to love and to keep loving through the arguments, disagreements, frustrations, stresses and all the messy territory of sharing your life with another human being who is different from you. But it also takes a very special magic ingredient of overwhelmingly deep love and rightness. I could never have made it through 25 years with one man if he and I weren’t so absolutely right for each other. He is my Beshert, my other half, my soul-mate, my heart-mate, my choice-mate. His presence in my life is purely a gift. I won’t share him with you, but I will wish for all of you, someone like him, someone who makes every day better for you, who comes back to you, who pushes through with you, who tries to improve for you and who commits to you 100%.

 

 

Marathon Mama, sitting by the River in my Heart

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http://www.nps.gov/olym/naturescience/images/Elwha-River-log-Scott-Church-copy.jpg
http://www.nps.gov/olym/naturescience/images/Elwha-River-log-Scott-Church-copy.jpg

Well, here I am again at 4:33 a.m. in the morning, sometimes I just have to get out of bed and start sharing. I had to drag myself out of the kitchen, after the tea water was ready. “I am not putting away dishes now, this is time to write and be creative in.” This is what I was saying to myself, as I walked out of the kitchen, then I saw the cat vomit on the floor, cleaned that up, and now I’m sitting at the computer.

 

My tea is next to me. I don’t really know where to begin, at least not without crying. For the past few days, I’ve been mostly in the body of a little boy who was in a head-on collision with his dad. His name is Chase Jesiah and he has a gorgeous smile and beautiful eyes. Jesiah comes with his grandmother to services I lead at our congregation. My services are always open to children, but most kids don’t feel too inclined to do that kind of thing. He always gives me hugs and thanks me and enriches anything I am doing. He will be okay, I believe this with all my heart. He’s been in Oakland at the children’s hospital there and has had lots of surgeries and doctors and nurses and family around him. He’s also surrounded by the prayers of our community and all the angels I can send his way.

 

His father, Wade, is in critical condition and at another hospital in Santa Rosa and will need a solid year most likely of recovery from his injuries. His father has not been surrounded just by loving kindness, but by judgments and difficulty. He is suffering also. I have only ever known Wade as a kind presence at his mother’s side at the funeral of his grandmother, Jesiah’s great grandmother, or when he has come to a service to pick up his son. I know the grandmother Hadasah best, because she has been a member of our congregation for years and years. Anyone reading this can just imagine the horror of all of this for the entire family and community. Everything else pales in comparison. I also do not know the outcomes for any of the other folks injured in this collision. I have been completely focused on praying for Wade and Jesiah and their family.

 

I’ve also been tending to my husband post his minor surgery and dealing with my own body’s exhaustion, post traveling to DC and helping my daughter recover from her third surgery which happened right before Passover. Then there was making Passover happen, then before that going back eleven months there has been a steady stream of accidents, deaths, financial challenges, friends and family in tremendous pain, illness, confusion and suffering, folks getting divorces, cancer, losing homes and hope. It’s been a really long and hard period of time, a marathon really of epic proportions.

 

I keep asking the Holy One, when will this stop, when will there be a break?

 

Apparently the answer to that question is: There won’t be.

 

So, how does one run a marathon? At full speed all the time, nope I know that doesn’t work. Slow and steady the whole time, well life isn’t like that, sometimes you have to really extend and work super hard to help folks or deal with something and you can’t be slow and steady. Stopping and starting, will that work? No, that doesn’t work either, at least not when it is a race, but I think some combination of all of these are how I am navigating this. And, I’m not running this particular marathon by myself. Everywhere around me is a throng of bodies in motion. We are all running, aiming towards the finish line, hoping it is coming soon, but the rules of this particular jaunt dictate that the finish line keeps being moved.

 

I really just want to curl up under a tree next to a river and not encounter another human being for a VERY long time. I want to cry and sleep and read and swim and watch the fish meander about. I want to listen to the sound of the water as it rushes past the rocks and the wind as it moves gently through the trees. I want to make stick and stone sculptures with whatever is at hand. I want to pray and never stop and not be interrupted. I want to feel the angels that are near me and just be with them in light and praise of the incredible gorgeous beauty of the Holy One and the Creation.

 

At least for this moment I can do that in my mind. I also just want EVERYONE I know and love and encounter everywhere to get it that they are loved and held by the Holy One. I don’t care if they are atheists or scientists or even if they actually belong to a religious community. I just feel that if people could actually see and feel the presence of wonder and holiness everything would be so much better for them. Duh!, but for some reason folks don’t see or feel the Grace and Beauty and Wonder that I do. And I cannot make them feel that, no matter how hard I try. I want to so bad, I want to just be like a magic fairy that waves her wand and makes everything appear golden and laced with mist and jewels and dew so that folks stop their angry responses and their despondency and their criticisms of self and others melts like butter in the sun.

 

I feel like I am the luckiest woman in the world. I have so much goodness and love in my life and even though I am tired and I want a break from all the beautiful people I love and who love me, I still am grateful for them and for all their unfoldings. So, tonight I will lead a healing circle for Jesiah and Wade, for all the folks in our community who have people to pray for, not just these two folks, but lots of others as well. We will imagine all those we love filled with light and being held by our love and prayers and by the angel of healing Raphael.

 

Then I will lay all of my wishing and wanting down and I will light Shabbat candles and usher in 27 hours of PURE MAGIC. It’s my time of prayer and sitting by the river in my heart and just not asking for anything, of trusting and reconnecting with all that is good and right in the world, because along with all the hard stuff, there is soooooooooooooo much that is good and right in the world.

 

Between now and then, I need to get some sleep, cook some food for the potluck meal at the Temple tonight, deal with my desk, plan the service I am leading, try and get a swim in and if I’m lucky have a few moments to just sit on my deck and enjoy the flowers. If I don’t get to that part today, for sure I will tomorrow, since this marathon mama does no running on Shabbat!

Here is the basket of goodies that includes the chain of beads we prayed over and made to send to Jesiah and Wade.
Here is the basket of goodies and cards that includes the chain of beads we prayed over and made to send to Jesiah and Wade.

Brazilian Sweet Potato, Tomato and Carmelized Onion Soup

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The Eye of Ha-Shem to Bring you a taste of Heaven, like this soup will!
The Eye of Ha-Shem to Bring you a Taste of Heaven, like this soup will!
Sopa do Batata Doce (Brazilian)

I got this recipe from an old Boulder High School buddy, who is a foodie like me. We are still good friends. I love it when folks bring me new recipes. He uses chicken or beef stock, but since my husband is vegetarian, I usually make all dishes vegetarian unless I know he won’t be eating them. If you make the Roasted Root Vegetable Stock recipe below, like I do, you will not miss any flavor. If you don’t have time to make this stock, make sure and use some kind of vegetable or other stock, even if it is something from the store (for shame!). It really gives this soup a better flavor.

2-3 white sweet potatoes (sometimes called Hannah or Japanese sweet Potatoes, you can also use the orange kind, but it is better with the white ones)
2-3 onions
4-6 medium flavorful tomatoes
4-8 Tablespoons unsalted sweet butter

4-8 or more cups of Roasted Root Vegetable Stock or stock of your choosing.

Roasted Root Vegetable Stock:

Wash well all the veggies. It is better to not peel any of them for this stock. Chop up a bunch of veggies, I use carrots, celery (including the tops with the leaves), onions, turnips, parsnips, mushrooms, etc.. big chunks are fine. Combine all of the veggies in a large bowl and toss with some olive oil, salt and pepper and some fresh herbs like parsley, (stalks and all) and don’t forget several cloves of garlic.

Throw all of this onto a baking sheet and bake at 350-400º for about an hour. During that hour use a large spoon or spatula and move the veggies around a few times. Start a large pot of water to boil on your stove and dump all of the veggies into it. At this point I add chard or beet greens or kale, just a few leaves chopped up. Let all of this water and veggies boil and simmer for at least an hour, if not more. Strain the veggies through a colander with cheese cloth or a very clean thin dish towel over a strainer into another large bowl or pot. You can use a pan or spoon to press out all the good veggie juice into your strained stock. You can let this cool and freeze for future use or start making the soup, right now!
Peel and chop sweet potatoes
Simmer sweet potatoes in stock until cooked
Peel and chop onions and sauté onions in some of the butter until they are carmelized, which I think takes about an hour or more. You must cover the pan the onions are in and stir frequently and keep the flame on pretty low.
Chop tomatoes
Add tomatoes and onions to soup
Cook a few more minutes
Puree the soup
Add the rest of the butter
Add good salt and pepper to season
Garnish with parsley or use some of Esti’s Parsley Sauce to spice this up a bit.

Enjoy!

Nicole

Pico de Gallo for ShaKia

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ShaKia my new Granddaughter and I. She loves this recipe and I promised her I'd upload it as soon as I got home.
ShaKia, my newish Granddaughter and I, she loves this recipe and I promised her I’d upload it as soon as I got home from visiting with her and my daughter and her intended.

Fresh Salsa makes any meal much better. This is very easy to make. The trick is to cut everything really tiny and to have the cilantro clean and dry. Prepare the garlic the way I have already outlined multiple times (Perla’s Peppers, Esti’s Parsley Sauce). This Salsa will keep for about two days at the most. It’s really best fresh. If you want to use if for longer, cook up the remainder and blend it up and keep if for a few more days in your refrigerator.

2–4 fresh tomatoes

2–5 serrano or jalapeño peppers

a good bunch of cilantro, well cleaned and fairly dry

one white onion

juice of ½ lemon or lime

4–6 cloves of garlic (with centers removed)

salt and pepper to taste

Chop up the peppers, very finely (it’s best to use a chopper tool if you have one) and put them in a medium size serving bowl. Then chop up the tomatoes and add this to your bowl. Add the chopped onion, lemon juice, pressed garlic, salt and pepper and the chopped cilantro and mix it all up. The spiciness of this salsa depends on the spiciness of the individual peppers you use and the amount. Adjust to taste. I occasionally use habañeros in this salsa, when I know I won’t have visitors who can’t handle that level of heat.

Jewish Mother Warning:

When handling any fresh spicy peppers, wear vinyl/plastic/nitrile gloves (if you have any cuts on your fingers). If you aren’t using gloves, wash your hands two times with warm water and soap, immediately following cutting of peppers. Wash your hands after discarding the gloves as well, because you may not realize you got a drop on your hands. Do not skip this step, it is very important! The oils from the freshly cut peppers are very harmful to your skin and can truly cause terrible pain and if you forget and rub your nose or eyes, you will know what all those attacked by pepper spray know, basically torture that can incapacitate you. If you do forget and rub your eyes by accident, get in a warm shower and open and close your eyes in the stream of water for five to ten minutes until the burning stops. (I learned this from Poison Control, who I called one time, when I myself forgot this step and was suffering mightily.) I have never had this problem again, and the warm water shower solved my problem.

Now, don’t be afraid to make this salsa. It’s worth it. Just WASH YOUR HANDS!

Preparing for Passover and setting a place at the table for the Holiest Guest

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Pesach Table Setting with Seder Plate by Paul Barchilon at my home last year.
Pesach Table Setting with Seder Plate by Paul Barchilon at my home last year.

I went looking for something to share that wouldn’t take me too much time, something I’d already written that I could upload here and then get back to the work of preparing for Passover. I was sure I had written about Passover/Pesach many times, it turns out, this was all in my mind.

 

Of course, what I have done is prepare for and celebrate Pesach, which, if you’ve ever prepared for Pesach you know, means you don’t have three seconds to write about what you are doing. I haven’t had a relationship with Pesach my whole life. My first Seder happened in the home of my boyfriend when I was fourteen and it was sooooooooooo wonderful and wild and incredible that I have been hooked ever since. It was all in English and mostly a bacchanalian experience with everyone in a toga and lots of food and drinking, what teenager wouldn’t love that? Nothing like it had ever happened in my home and I was in love both with my boyfriend Matthue and with the ritual meal, foods and experience.

 

Pesach is always a journey and a hard one, when you are actually responsible for the holiday, not just a guest at someone’s table. No matter where I am or what is going on in my life, the month before Passover involves some deep cleaning and mess uncovering. It involves long days and nights of work and being exhausted. It is full of stress and confusion and work and trying really hard to turn all the myriad tasks and the hard work into an offering. In Judaism we have a philosophy or pathway that helps us take all things hard or difficult and turn them towards the use of what is Holy or of Service, it’s called for the sake of Heaven (l’Shmayim).

 

It is not the same as being enslaved to a job or a master with a whip, as the story of Pesach reminds us about every year, but there are elements of those things. I find I am enslaved to the laundry, the groceries, the endless cycles of my life and all I have to do to keep my family healthy and well and myself too. There is a resentment in me that I regularly have to navigate. It’s minor in comparison to what I perceive other people having. I may be fooling myself here. I generally feel choiceful about being a servant to my family and community, friends and the planet. I have actively and regularly chosen and asked to serve the Divine and accept that what unfolds in my life is a combination of that prayer being answered and my dedication to a life of service. I know that my life is amazingly blessed and yet, when it all gets to be too much I feel weighed down and somehow put upon.

 

These feelings are part of the process of preparing for the holiday or liberating ourselves and liberation of those who are oppressed. I am intrinsically bound to a cycle that I find myself both caught in and delighted by. I cannot imagine my life without the Jewish holiday cycles. They are linked to the cycles of harvest and the seasons and also to the narrative of my people across thousands of years. I believe they are central to my cellular make-up, which may sound patently absurd. My relationship to my sense of what is right and true for me is body-centered and always has been.

 

The first time I heard Hebrew singing and praying, it was like having a rushing whooshing sound move through me and also my whole world felt tiny and encapsulated and I was hot and everything shifted inside of me and I felt alive in a completely whole way that was instantaneously familiar and new at the same time. It was miraculous and continues to be. That time was when I was 18 years old and went to my first Shabbat dinner at a Havurah/Group Gathering in Boulder Colorado in 1982.

 

So, my relationship with Pesach is multi-layered. It’s a combination of scrubbing and cleaning and removing all the schmutz/mess/grease, caked on goo from my physical world, but also my internal world. It’s an opportunity to be free and smooth, to be liberated in every way from the gunk of my life. In order to get there, I have to work really hard, and that’s the part that feels not so good a lot of the time, but because this is MY CHOICE and not something forced upon me, it also has a quality of being an offering.

 

Unless you have had to clean up your reality or space and see it as a spiritual practice, I think this may be hard to relate to for many folks. Usually people only clean at this level when they move. I do this once a year, every year and I don’t just do it for my space, but for my heart and the home inside of myself I make for the Holy One to dwell inside of. I am cleaning my space to make room for the miracles of the Pesach story that all culminate in the giving of the Torah. So, as I scrub and rub and crawl around the corners of the house and I get vigorous in my scrubbing, I imagine the space being made really clean for the Holiest guest. Once the space is ready,I then work on preparing a feast that tells the story of my people and I share that story with others and with the special foods. It’s an extraordinary experience.

 

I hope you will find a Seder to go to, if you aren’t Jewish, at least once in your life. If you are Jewish, I hope you have a lovely Seder to go to, and if you don’t, clean your kitchen, sit down with some wine, some apples, honey, matzoh, wine, horseradish, parsley and whatever other foods you need or want that are part of this holiday and set your own table for the Holy One to come join you at. All the work, even if you cannot do it at the micro and macro level I am talking about, is for the sake of Heaven, however you interpret that.

 

I have to get back to it now, so I’ll close by wishing you all good cleaning, cooking, feasting, studying and sharing together as the Spring unfolds and as the Full Moon eclipse and Pesach coincide, may the reminder of how we are all connected and linked be present for you in your bodies, homes and communities.