All Countries Will Break Your Heart. Eventually.

July 4^th, 2020

I can make this statement because at least two of them broke mine. One that I chose myself. And one where I was born, that chose me. Just like people, countries have their faults. At 45, I have stopped looking for perfection. Right about now, I am happy with the little good I find in every day. For it is not little, most of the time.

I came to America with a head full of dreams, hoping and wishing more than anything I ever wished for in my life that I have reached a promised land where not much can go wrong if you truly want it to go right. 22 years later, I can say, just like I said about my first country 22 years ago: America has broken my heart.  For the first time in … I am not sure how long, or ever … I feel like America should be scolded and not celebrated today. She has a lot of learning still to do. The reasons are obvious to all the heart-minded and humanity-loving people, so I won’t belabor the point. This is meant to be a short post.

But despite all the anger I feel, despite all the grief I have grieved for the past year, despite all the pain I see unravelling every day, despite all the wrongs, I must love America. I love it like you must love a sister that stole your boyfriend. Or a father that lived only to make you happy and ensure you have everything, a father that taught you everything from tying your shoe to what kind of man you should allow to love you but then turns around and votes for Trump. I love it like you’d love a mother who’s dying of lung cancer and is still smoking like a freight-train, forcing you to watch the decay. I love it like you love a son who’s committed crimes but rescues kittens. 

Maybe it is wrong. This is a country I am talking about, not a person. Not my flesh-and-blood. But it is my home. It is the home I chose. I am not loving it from a sense of obligation. More from a sense of belonging. If any of this grief is her fault, it is as much as it is mine for choosing her. And where would I be without a home? Just like without a family, I would not know where I belong and who I am without one. I might not be high up and singing her praises today, but I have big hopes that one day it will live again up to the name she made around the globe for hundreds of years.

Whatever America is to you and however you choose to celebrate it today, or not, I hope you at least stop and ponder whether it is the perfect country you were taught it is, or if it can get better. And if you think it can, I hope we can all find it within our hearts to get her there.

And, also … make the most of today, however you spend it. God knows life is short. And that’s not at all   a debatable fact.

July 4, 1998 - my very first Independence Day celebration in Myrtle Beach, SC. You can't quite tell here, but I was crying. I was so moved that I was celebrating Independence Day in what I thought to be the greatest country in the world. I hope all of us can see that belief a reality in our lifetimes. 

On Christmas Eve

Ever since I can remember, my dad taught us that a successful marriage, and every other successful relationship for that matter, is based on one thing and one thing only: respect. He never said love, or understanding. But respect.

This has been a year when at times I wished I was invisible. Maybe then, I would have hurt less, and my heart would sink less in despair. I have had days when I wanted to never look at a news feed, or hear another word from NPR in my life! But one cannot live in a bubble, no matter how much the world hurts. And we have to stay aware and awake. If we can do just one thing to help humanity is to stay aware.

I thought after The Holocaust, after 50 + years of Communism, after numerous genocides and civil wars, humanity has learned. But this year has proven that theory wrong. Very wrong.

This year has also been a painful year, personally, but from so much pain I have learned that we, humans, are stronger than we can ever imagine, and that there is incredible amount of goodness and love buried inside all of us. Sometimes it's way too deep to bring it up fast enough, but it's there and it will eventually bubble to the top. Stubbornly. Eventually.

I hope all of us find the strength and the decency to find our light tonight. I hope we find the peace, the love, the grace that the world and our worlds need most. And I hope we all find the respect into one another that we somehow lost this year. Even in the last hour of 2016, I wish for all these good things and for The Light to find our hearts and open them to goodness.

And, in our despair and aloneness, we must also remember what Anne Lammot says so many times over: “Grace bats last.” But she still bats.

Merry Christmas to all!

Such a Gift

Happy birthday, Gabi!

If my memory is not totally cheating me, it was the spring of 1996. He was 17. I walked in our room, and my sister, then 18, introduced me to “her boyfriend”. As any good, overprotective older sister, I was always dubious of my baby sister’s choices. This was no exception.

He was as skinny as a rail, very tall (his skinny-ness made him even taller), with long, silky hair draping over his broad shoulders. He had an overly confident look about him, and despite his young age he seemed very, very serious – like he had already deciphered the mystery of life and he was not about to share the secret.

I told my sister almost immediately that she should dump him! I didn’t approve.

As a good younger sister, she, of course, rebelled against everything that older folks would try to advise her. This was no exception. And the rest of the story, is history – pretty much.

I watched Gabi grow up with my sister. They were high school sweethearts, as you might call them. They did everything together. He spent the nights at our house, and when my parents moved and remodeled, she spent the nights at his parents’ house. We spent holidays, and summer vacations and birthdays together. He was always there. Since they met, it was always “the two of them” in any function both of our families had.

After 4 years of dating, in 2000, they married. Then, they made together the long and painful journey of becoming Canadian citizens. They moved in North America in 2004. They had their first baby boy in 2008, and the second in 2011. Slowly, and quietly, Gabi become my family. Now, I cannot imagine our lives without him.

My relationship with him was not always easy. We are both stubborn and very, very strong personalities. Foolishly, I tried to correct him in everything he did, because I was older, and I thought, well, wiser, too. He steadfastly went about being who he was, bluntly showing me that he won’t change just because I could not “deal with it”. We both sulked. And then made up.

Not until recent years did I realize that we’re not agreeable to each other because we are way too much alike. My sister, in her infinite wisdom and love, discovered that. And she was right.

Also, not until recent years, did I realize what a gift he is to the world, and to our family. How his love and honesty has kept my sister together in her darkest, toughest moments, when I could not be there for her anymore. How his maturity and presence, but mostly his unbounded love, has helped her through. He is one of the most generous people I know. He gives everything to those that he loves– his time, his cash, his attention and if you’re smart enough to take it, his advice.

Romania, 2007

Other than mundane things, like music, technology and health tips, he has also taught me acceptance, respect and patience. For these, I will cherish him forever.

He is still serious. And stubborn. But I love his sense of giving and his loyalty to what he believes in. I love his incredible love for his family and for his children.

Today, I am ever so grateful that he has happened to us! Looking back at that spring 1996 day, I realize that I am not always right, that I cannot demand people to be what I consider “perfect”, and that it takes time to learn and respect and love someone. And I am so glad that my sister doesn't always listen to me!

Thank you, Gabi, for being patient with me over the years! Thank you for helping me grow up. Thank you for all the memories you have given me and my family – trips, holiday dinners, teaching me about class, style and staying hip. Thank you for encouraging me, when I was down. Mostly, thank you for being there, for the three of them! You are a gift.

Much love,

Your ever-so-stubbornly sister-in-law who loves you much.

Life Revisited

To JC, who has taught me the meaning of life, forgiveness and the preciousness of every single breath, a year later …

“All of my dreams seem to fall by the side like a discarded thought or the day's fading light
but I know that if I could just see you tonight … forever

at times we may fall, like we all tend to do but I'll reach out and find that I've run into you
your strength is the power that carried me through … forever

Your kindness for weakness I never mistook, I worried you often,
yet you understood that life is so fleeting, these troubles won't last forever

inspired me truly you did from the start to not be afraid and to follow my heart

there's a piece of you with me they can't tear apart … forever

Forever I'll find you, forever we'll be
Forever your power and strength stays with me.” (Dropkick Murphy – Forever)

We carry our bodies through life, trying to not let the mind take over. And the mind, the control freak that it is, will. We can’t stop it, because we don’t see how treacherous this is. Until the very end.

Are we spirits with bodies? Or bodies with spirits? What’s left, in the end?! As much thought as we put into daily routines, we can’t think deeply enough to figure this one out – because this one is not a matter of thinking - the only thing that matters …

Only when you have literally watched something or someone leave this world, minute by long and painful minute, and seen their peace in facing the Big Unknown while taking a morsel of you with them, you get it! Then, you understand the true nature of people, and the true nature of what we perceive now as “being. This can’t be taught. This must be understood by each one of us, if ever.

The end will come, without asking us. The only bit we’re asked about is the now. And we can choose that, but, blinded by the ephemeral present, we have not the eternal in mind – the curse of the human nature. How can we be so sophisticated to know: that the now must be chosen with the forever in mind?! Requires such insight.

Time passes, empty and void, and every day will add up to the end, an empty string of nothings, governed by our fear of action. Don’t let it! Wait not another second, and act, but with the heart in mind, if you can.

Listen to the heart (not mind), and listen to what is important after these bodies of dust are gone. Just shush the mind long enough to listen to your being. It’ll whisper wisely.

If you remember one thing, make it this: make sure in your final hours you truly have little to regret because you were trying to be “too cautious”.

It’s not about safety, and not about trust. We’re not born in and through safety – that’s a truism. Who’s asking for our trust when they have us?! And would we give it, if asked?!

We all want insurance. We all want guarantees. But who can give you insurance on happiness?! Our fear chains us to a life of bondage – the bondage of the rational mind, which kills the soul, and with it, the happiness which should reside in it.

The biggest irony of us: passing, temporary beings that we are, we try to think in absolutes: we want someone to guarantee us everything for every action we perform. We’re so caught up in our smallness of fear that we forget that we’re on the most relative trip of all: our lives!

Stopping for a Moment

"A man is rich in proportion to the number of things which he can afford to let alone".
(D. Thoreau)

I close the door in the morning. I am careful to lock it twice behind me. Thieves, you know ...

I put the laptop bag carefully in the crate in my trunk, so it won't get smashed, in case of a sudden brake.

I peel the potatoes the only way I learned how: with a knife, not a peeler. Careful not to cut my finger. I add water and boil them... When they are boiled, I am careful to turn off the burner first, and then pick the pot up, drain them ever so carefully so as not to burn my forearms with the hot steam ... But turn the burner off first - so as not to forget and then set the house on fire ...

I turn off computers and servers ... all day long, for a job ... Careful not to crash them ... "Gracefully" - I think- they call it ...'File-Exit-Shut down...'.

And yet, they make band aids for burns and cut fingers. And they give warranties for broken laptops ... and there is always insurance for burnt houses ... and also broken servers.

And yet, I am careless with words I say to people. And statements I make. And there is not one damn thing, insurance, band aid, or other kind of security that can mend a broken heart, a broken bond ... a tearing eye ... from hurtfulness ...

And yet, when it comes to "holding on to the truth" and "stating an opinion" just to "make a point" ... I seem to be fierce ... And I think most of us do. Once I realize the milk has been spilled, I hate myself - which in itself is not healthy .. but it's too late...

The damage, and the unfixable kind, too, has been done ... And only my prayer in people's goodness and ability to forgive (which may or may not be present) is left ... And relying on others to fix what you've done yourself - is that the way to go?!

Why do we do that?!

Why are we more careful with the amount of water we water our yard with rather than the amount of self righteousness we judge our friends, and family, and next door neighbors with?! Since when and how did things become more important than humans?!

When and how are we ever going to learn that there are no fixes for all the burnt bridges and bruised hearts?!?

What can teach us? Other than just stopping and thinking about it ?! And learning to be mindful ... ?! Learning to be mindful, just so we can be less alone ... ?!

Is it fear? Is it pride that pushes us to judge and state our "truths"? Is it control? Or fear of losing it?! Is it ... power? Over what? Or hunger for it?!

I wish I had answers ...

For now, I just have this passage from a book, that made me wonder about all this, and also made me stop, and think, and ask for an apology: it was due time:

" ... 'pride' is really another word for fear. Marlon Brando delivers this truth magnificently in Apocalypse Now when ... he tells his executioner: 'It is our judgement that defeats us'. We become our own executioners when we sit in judgement of our efforts. Only when we act without judgement we can truly flourish in our lives. " (Meditations from the Mat - Gates & Kenison)

On the same sort of note, I find in the same book a quote from Almost Famous: "The only true currency in this bankrupt world is the truth" ...

But we must all realize that other than the absolute truth of the earth and the sky being real, and the rivers flowing to the sea, the human truth, the one linked to the ever changing human body, spirit, and mind is ever so relative. And ever so changing. We must non - attach ourselves from at least that thought: that we could be, at any point, an absolute judge of the human truth...

As my mom has always said: "if it's human, darling, it's imperfect". But ... none the less beautiful, I'd add ... and I'll try to remember it next time... If I am ever so lucky, to have a "next time"...

I am sorry for all the bleeding hearts ... I wish I could nullify the daggers I sent into the world.
I just pray for soul band aids, generosity and forgiveness ...