The Power of Green

Earlier this week on RJ.org, I wrote a short piece entitled “The Power of Greene,” about the benefits of Reform Jewish summer camp. This piece is about a different power of green – house plants.

By no stretch of the imagination do I have even the tiniest bit of a green thumb. If I water a plant and it thrives, great. Otherwise, it dies and that’s the end of it. See that plant up there on the left? Two friends brought it with them on a visit to see me at Lenox Hill Hospital in December of 2007. Back then I spent 21 hours in the ER and three more days in that lovely bed and breakfast before the docs let me go home, only to come back a few weeks later to have my gallbladder out. Actually, "bed and breakfast" is somewhat of a misnomer since there definitely was a bed, but most definitely no breakfast, just a big sign outside the door of my room that said NPO, which stands for Nil Per Os in Latin and in English means no bagel or coffee.

But I digress. Back to the plant... At the time, even though it was the dead of winter, the plant had big purple fluffy flowers on it. I think they might have been hyacinths, but I’m really not sure.

When I got home from the hospital, the flowers dried up and died so I cut them off. But, there still was a teeny-tiny bit of green in the pot, so I stuck it on a window sill, watered it when I remembered, and went about my business. I had my gallbladder out, vegged out at home for a week, went back to work, went back to school and went on with my life. That plant, however, didn’t do much of anything. In fact, that plant didn’t do much of anything for more than a year.

That is, until two weeks ago. Two weeks ago, it exploded. As though I was watching time lapsed photography, the few leaves it had seemed to grow before my eyes and new ones sprouted from the soil as if by magic. It seems so robust and healthy these days that I wouldn’t be surprised if some of those big purple fluffy flowers start showing up in the pot soon.

In the meantime, whether or not they do, I am awed by this plant, by the power of green, by the rebirth of the earth – even in a small plastic pot in my apartment in Gotham – and by the eternal promise of springtime and new beginnings.

A Little Like the Butcher

No, I haven't forgotten about my blog, but, like the butcher who backed into the meat grinder, I've gotten a little behind in my work here. (I know, that was bad!) However, it's not far from the truth. Between the wedding in Tulsa over the weekend (that's the groom there on the left), and the economics midterm tonight, I haven't had a minute free for writing. I promise to get back to it in the next few days...by the weekend for sure.

In the meantime, here are some not-so-great photos from the weeekend in the midwest. The wedding could not have been nicer and it was good to get away, to hang with friends (old and new), and to celebrate the promise of a new beginning.

Enjoy!

Comfort Music

Today was perhaps one of the most difficult days of my professional life. Although I still have my job, many of my friends and colleagues at the Union for Reform Judaism were not so lucky. “Sad” and “emotionally exhausted” don’t even begin to scratch the surface of how we – individually and collectively – feel.

And so I’ve turned to “comfort music.” Pouring from my iTunes tonight as I go about the chores of the evening are the ballads of Billy Joel, Barry Manilow, the Carpenters and Harry Chapin, among others. And, although the songs can’t take away all the pain (or substitute for my favorite comfort foods -- chocolate pudding and mac and cheese), I do know all the words, can sing along (off key and loudly!), and, even if just for a little while, escape to simpler days and happier times.

Wedding Gift Woes

Having spent a fair bit of time in the last few days on Bloomingdale’s wedding registry web site and in an IM chat room with two friends trying to decide upon a we’re-going-in-on-it-together wedding gift for two other friends who are getting married next weekend in Oklahoma, I was interested to read this article in today’s Style section of the New York Times.

The groom is a regular reader of this blog so I can’t reveal the various gifts we’re choosing among, but in the next few days, my friends and I definitely need to make a decision and purchase the gift. I know…technically, we have a year, but I’m a yekke (which basically means that I believe that things are meant to be done in a certain order, and that's the order in which I do them!) and before I board that Tulsa-bound plane on Friday, I want “wedding gift” to be crossed off the “to do” list.

Stay tuned for progress on our decision and the runners up, and perhaps a post or two from the Sooner State…if I decide to schlep my computer.

Stress Stole the Muses

A pulled back muscle, an expired ATM card, a chipped filling, the tragic death of a teen in the Reform Jewish community and a little stress in the office, where 20 percent of the staff is to be laid off in the next few weeks all seem to have stolen the muses from my soul this week.

On the good news front, the latest issue of Reform Judaism magazine is hot off the press. Take a browse through...including the new section, “News and Views of Reform Jews,” which includes my first-ever article in the magazine, Action: Blueprints for Green Living.

Enjoy!

Thanks for the Reminder

Don’t take this the wrong way, but I was pleased to see the picture of the flag-draped military coffins returning to American soil on the front page of today’s New York Times. Of course it’s beyond sad and awful and despicable and vile that our government has seen fit to put young people in harm’s way in Iraq and Afghanistan because….hmmm, tell me again exactly why we’re involved and why they’re over there?!

So thanks to all you military guys at the Pentagon for lifting the ban on showing us photos of those coffins and for letting us see—time and time again--the true cost of the conflicts in which we’re embroiled in those faraway lands. Now, can you please do something to bring home the rest of the young people so they can get on with the business of living the rest of their lives?

Indeed, they have a lot of living to do—for themselves and for others. As Henry David Thoreau tells us, “On the death of a friend, we should consider that the fates through confidence have devolved on us the task of a double living, that we have henceforth to fulfill the promise of our friend's life also, in our own, to the world.”

Eat a Falafel and Chips for Me

A number of my friends, in commenting about “The Schmuck Parade,” my escapades in the I’m-searching-for-a-good-guy-in-NYC quest, have told me that they’re happy to take a back seat and live the adventure vicariously through me.

Although I can certainly appreciate vicariousness in certain situations, if given a choice, it’s not the way I’d opt to visit Israel. However, since it doesn't appear that I'll have the opportunity to visit there anytime in the foreseeable future, it’s the only mode of travel I’ve got at the moment. Lucky for me, though, with 300-some Reform rabbis gallivanting around Eretz Yisrael attending a professional conference this week in Jerusalem, I’m certainly getting a good dose of virtual Israel through them.

For starters, every afternoon at about the same time a certain rabbi calls from the Inbal Hotel to check in on what’s happening back home in New York. Bizarre as it sounds, when we chat, some of the magic of Jerusalem comes right through the phone and lingers in my office until long after we’ve ended our call. Yup, that’s Jerusalem for you.

Others are posting regularly on Facebook and their blogs. And so it is that I know that today, many of the women visited the Wall, where, as part of the observance of Rosh Chodesh, they created quite a ruckus by singing, which, according to traditional Jewish law, women are forbidden from doing in places where it can be heard by men. Here's a first-person account from one of the women who was there. And here's another perspective from one of the men. Although I'm not a rabbi and although I wasn’t there to sing in person, I certainly was there with them in spirit.

And then there’s the falafel. Before they left, I asked a few of the travelers to eat a falafel and chips for me. One, a young rabbi from Minnesota, gave me, again with the help of Facebook, a delightful description of his culinary experience yesterday:

Young rabbi: “I wandered around Jerusalem this afternoon before the conference started and managed to find my favorite falafel place at the Mahane Yehuda market. I didn't take the most direct route, but I found it, and had falafel in a pita with chips and hot sauce for you!”

Me: “You're the best! Thanks...hope you enjoyed it.”

Young rabbi: “I did enjoy. My stomach, not so much. :) But I'm still glad I had one.”

Me: “Should I take a Tums?!"

Young rabbi: “I think we'll be okay. :)”

Me: “Great! Enjoy the rest of the visit.”

Another, who’s hoping to post a lot of photos and video during the trip said, “I’ll try and capture myself with a falafel and chips…or more likely a schwarma." (Mission accomplished...that's him over there on the right.)

To which I replied, “Schwarma’s good too…enjoy!”

Indeed, in addition to falafel and schwarma, I hope that all those rabbis eat and drink so generously of the indescribable electricity, magic and spirit of Israel that when they return safely home they've got plenty left to share with the rest of us.

Travel safely and Godspeed, my friends.