It’s time to raise our glass and say a Kiddish for our Kaddish in Two-Part Harmony. I sit here in utter amazement that our whimsical little project is chugging along not just functioning but doing what it’s supposed to be doing. When we started this project, I must admit I was a bit of a…
Tag: death and dying
this is going to end badly, she said
Malkah woke up, and she was healed of her despair. Her body felt light, like it could just float up into the ether — except for the fact that she already resided there to begin with. Her spirit was lighter too for a change. It was an indescribable feeling. She had even slept. Slept like…
daily kaddish: all that unrest in the Middle East
When even a Middle East expert chains them all together like that, it’s no wonder I feel overwhelmed, and my problem is embarrassingly trivial next to the problems of all those people who are trying to live through all this. And then there are all those people who are not living through all this—who are dying in all this.
A Kaddish for all of them.
a kaddish for miss pants
Candy Pants was my dad’s hunting dog, retired to California, endured four dogs’ worth of veterinary crises, and healed me—not exactly in that order.
another kaddish for japan’s daughters and sons: on scale-slipping and tragedy
A kaddish for all the sons and daughters Japan has lost and will continue losing in the aftermath of this devastation, whose enormous universal scale I cannot comprehend, whose personal scale is also enormous in its minute detail. On how we use scale-slipping to cope with tragedy. A reply to Mira’s kaddish one daughter at a time.
daily kaddish: for a lump of clay
Mira’s beautiful post from this morning about winter struck a nerve with me.
I marvel at her ability to celebrate rebirth, welcome surprises, and plan to keep molding her lump of clay. I usually feel that way myself—I’m having a great life, and I’m looking forward to seeing how the rest of it plays out. But today I find myself wanting to bake my lump of clay hard, in this lovely shape it has today not wanting surprises.
I know she’s right. That’s not how this lifetime works, and I need to go on molding and rolling with the surprises.
So this is a kaddish for a lump of clay.
a kaddish for winter
I’ve been thinking about rebirth a lot, lately and wondering why. All that rebirth stuff — I’ve always thought of it as merely wishful thinking, codified into religious precepts, to ease the mind regarding inescapable misery. Rebirth, opiate of the masses. Or something like that. Rebirth, the place we put our hopes and dreams. Next…
eulogy for my father
Quite a number of people have told me how moved they were by the words I spoke at the my father’s funeral. Some asked for copies of what I said. Still others asked to hear those words for the first time when they read reference to it in an obit somewhere. I don’t think I…
rudolf steiner in seven-part harmony
It’s your seven-year cycle,” she said. “You’re coming up on the next seven, so that’s why you feel that something’s about to change.” And I thought, well what a load of crap. And then I thought about it. And then I started reading. And then I thought about it some more. I always liked Rudolf…
a kaddish for those who choose their ends
They offed themselves. Both of them, together. She’s pissed, and devastated, and who wouldn’t be? But I can’t help admiring their decision, even as I share her grief and anger.