Don't listen to your jerk brain. You are smart and pretty.

As I was leaving Purim, someone dressed as a manatee came up to me and let me choose a card from a little velveteen pouch. The card had a hand-drawn picture of a manatee, and the message:

Don't listen to your jerk brain. You are smart and pretty. 

I didn't know what was going on, but I knew I loved it. So they told me about Calming Manatee, a Tumblr based on the statement that "everyone knows that manatees are the most calming creatures in the animal kingdom." You'll look at it right now, I know, but in case you don't, this is a Tumblr with photos of manatees, floating in the water (looking calm) and saying things like, "I'll get the wine." "Oh, sweetie." and "Hey, you got this."

I didn't look them up right away, but when I did, I spent a pretty long time summoning another calming manatee, and summoning another calming manatee, and summoning another calming manatee. It's very sweet to look at these and think not just about the manatees (who it feels are really talking to you) but also the people who put the words into the manatees' minds, and to marvel at such quirky and benevolent creativity.

Try it. You will probably feel better. Also, "You'll feel better if you eat something."

Couch, Snacks, Girls

I thought I knew exactly what joy seeking I was going to do, and write about, after work. I was going to go to Yoga for Abundant Bodies, which the wonderful teacher of Gentle Yoga invited me to last week. She invited me when I told her after class what a perfect teacher she was for me, and when else does she teach? She told me her regular classes, and invited me to both. Her invitation was so warm that I actually teared up; it was perfect for me that day, as had been her class. So I planned my week around going, and then when the day came I was even MORE tired than I had been lately (yes I'm a little concerned about it, but I'm trying to get enough rest and otherwise generally take care of myself.) Josh and I made his and hers dinners (his: crunchy raw vegetables, mine: comforting cooked vegetables) and as we ate, my head got closer and closer to the table. Was I really going to make it to yoga? And then it happened. The thing I wanted even more than yoga. Abigail texted; her plans had changed for the evening and she wondered if I wanted to get together?  Yes,  I did want that. I wanted that very much. I hadn't seen her much since she (was part of a big crew of people who) created a giant, glorious Purim shpil/party/community event. I offered to go to her house, but she opted to come to mine, and I had the night I hadn't known I'd wanted, sitting on the couch, talking, giggling, crying, eating almond butter directly from the jar, and eventually and successfully inviting Kyle over to watch an episode of Girls we hadn't all seen. It sort of felt like we were 15 and should be getting stoned. But instead we were 30 and 50 and tired, which it turns out might amount to the same thing.

Literally seeking Joy

I did nothing—not one thing—in the seeking Joy department, as we've all come to understand it from this blog. Long, long work day. Left the house at 8 AM and got home at 11 PM. However, and I understand this is sometimes the way prayer and practice works, the executive director of the JCC is named Joy, and she came to my desk and asked me if I would set up time to meet with her. So I called her assistant and asked to be put on her schedule. Literally seeking Joy. Now let's see what this manifests.

Birds and Oscars

It was a gorgeous day, and I hadn't gotten outside at all the previous day, so I invited Josh out for a walk/run in the park first thing. We ended up in my favorite spot to see birds, and got to hang out with lots of red winged blackbirds, a pair of hooded mergansers, a kingfisher up close, and a downy woodpecker—among many other less flashy common birds. Later, when we were on the way to C-Town to buy ingredients for our Oscars food sculptures, we saw this cardinal on the sidewalk. I was surprised I'd never seen it before. Maybe it was just passing through.

There's something about this sighting that brought me as much joy, if not more, than the mergansers. Maybe it's because it required me to see it? I mean, I needed to be able to see the ducks as well—as evidenced by the woman blasting past them, with her dog on a leash while she talked on her cell, and never once looked at the water. So maybe it's more that it required me to invent it, not just see it.

We left it there on the sidewalk and went in to get ingredients I'd never otherwise buy if I wasn't working on a project: marshmallows and confectioners sugar and food coloring and a slab of turkey ham, and we came home to sculpt. Josh was hot this year. We had both had great ideas for sculptures, but his execution was just beyond the pale, especially with this Life of Pi tiger made from farmers cheese, orange peels (some died black), olives (eyes) and daikon (whiskers.)

When we had seen Flight, I knew right away that the central image was Denzel's hand on a little bottle of vodka, and we started talking back then how to execute it. We knew that sausages were key for fingers, but had a hard time figuring out what the the hand should be made of. Josh convinced me it should be another meat product, and this was the result:

I made fondant for the first time in my life, and with the help of some Little Debbie's Swiss Rolls, made a bunch of moderately successful Lincoln's hats.

I also made a batch of Hush Puppies for consumption (photographed here after many had already been consumed) in honor of my favorite film of the year: Beasts of the Southern Wild.

And then it was time to get dressed in costume for the evening, as it turned out, in sharp contrast to my costume of the night before. Did you see The Sessions? Another gem this year? I dressed as Helen Hunt's character Cheryl, a sex surrogate who spent half the time in a mom sweater and half the time naked, and spoke the whole time in a horrible Boston accent.

 And then the guests started to arrive. Five Broken Cameras:

Hushpuppy, Pat from Silver Linings Playbook, and Whip Whitaker from Flight:

And they brought sculptures too! Emily made this Lincoln Log cabin.

And Nina made this Life of Pi pie, with Life cereal crust, Indian spices in the banana cream, and the blue water on top. (Sorry I didn't get a photo before it was cut!)

I'm running late to work, so I can't take the time to draw out reflections about joy and the day, but let's just say that community and creativity trump racist, sexist, homophobic, anti-Semitic, xenophobic, ageist, trite, un-funny Oscars hosting, every time.

Mamesh tsnies

I wasn't going to dress up for Purim. I was just gonna wear a sweat shirt and dance a lot. But I was on the phone with Mich asking her to remind me the name of the Orthodox video comedienne we like (Chaya Suri) and she asked me if I was going to be Chaya Suri for Purim. Brilliant. Yes. In fact I realized in that moment, I WAS going to be Chaya Suri for Purim.  I went up to my closet to see what I had to wear, and realized right away that I was foiled—especially when it came to the head covering. So I modified a little bit, and decided to be a Crown Heights Orthodox woman, with a long black skirt, black tights, and a long-sleeved black shirt with a tight white t-shirt over it. I got as far as all the black, but found that my only white T-shirt is flouncy, and just didn't look right. But I had a green t-shirt, and that looked pretty good if once again I was OK heading in a different cultural direction: I was thinking hipster orthodox, and went down to find a knit cap. But my knit cap didn't look very good, so I tried on a striped scarf, to see how that looked, and all of a sudden I realized I was a settler. Scarily, freakily a settler.

And so off I went to the best Purim party ever, to work the door and welcome people to the party, as a settler. Except that people didn't exactly know what I was, other than I was clearly Orthodox, so Sarah Gordon and Avi Fox Rosen helped me come up with what I should write on a sign.

My face was completely unobscured, and yet people I have known for years walked right past me, or looked me over as if I was somehow not connected to them. It was fascinating to be hiding so visibly, and to actually get to discover what it means to embody the opposite of my own beliefs on a holiday that encourages that. 

Eventually I settled in with my friends and danced, and it turned out that Orthodox women are on to something, because my outfit was extremely comfortable—down to the practical shoes.

Aside from my own costume, I was just filled with gratitude and appreciation for everyone who worked so hard to create the party this year. I did very little this year—pretty much just a financial donation and a 2-hour volunteer slot. And as I danced to Yiddish Princess and DJA-Rara, hung out with costumed friends, and watched the stunning horse puppets dance through the space, I smiled to be part of such a rich community.  And from my place as a deep member of this community, joy comes from within.

Astrologis Interruptis

When I turned 50, I decided it was finally time to get my astrological chart read. I've never done this, and I've long been interested in a deeper look at the ancient art that I know so little about. I asked friends if they knew of anyone they recommended, and they did know someone—and she lives just about 10 blocks from me.

What with my topsy turvy January and February, it took a while to schedule, but my time was set for Friday after work. I went in, she had put out a lovely snack tray of an orange, a banana, some tomatoes, some pistachios. She had my charts on her desk, and they were pink and orange and green and yellow and confusing and beautiful. She started talking about the positions the planets (including the sun and the moon, which are considered planets in astrological lingo) were in at the time and place I was born (my natal chart) and what that means about my nature.

And it was just incredibly accurate. I mean, ACCURATE. She started out and described the deepest pulls and conflicts and indecisions in my nature, and my strengths and my tendencies and my volatilities and, well, it was just all there.  Then she went on to talk about my transits (the ongoing movement of the planets as they transit the horoscope) and some of what she said was super accurate as well, and some was odd. Odd in that it felt unnecessary to say, and was super easily Googlable about me (what year I completed my MFA) and seemed like maybe she was saying it as a way to impress me that she could tell this from my chart, but OK, it's also possible that it was completely in my chart that that period of my life would have been ripe for change and that kind of achievement.

She went on to show me some fundamental patterns in my chart, and then to talk about my Chiron return. Most of you have probably heard of the Saturn return, because you've been through it many times by now. Chiron comes around once every 49-51 years, so most of us only get a Chiron return once, or maybe twice.  She started to describe the position of Jupiter and Chiron in my natal chart, and how very important ................. and just then she stood up and said, "I think the laundromat next door is on fire."

She was right; it was. I took my chart, and she took her girlfriend's laptop, and we went outside. The fire people were already breaking through the windows of the building next door, and putting ladders through. We stayed outside for quite a while, while they worked. It's incredibly impressive to watch them work, by the way. I think if we in the non-profit world want to study cooperation, we should study fire people. Please note the motto on the truck: It Ain't Easy, in this photo below. (Please also note the fireman climbing down the ladder, and the perfect framing of the word LAUNDROMAT in between the ladder and the truck. I think the execution of this photo is actually the part of the day that brought me most joy.)

I met a family who lived in the building that was on fire. They left without their phone, so I lent them mine to call family. I also gave them my address in case they needed a place to stay that night. They didn't come over, so I am guessing they were able to stay with people they are already close to. In the end, nobody was hurt, and we were able to go back into the house where the astrologer lives. It was too late to continue my session however, since I had dinner plans with my cousins in Manhattan, so we rescheduled for next Friday, when the planets will have advanced a teeny bit on their transits and I will have advanced a teeny bit on my own journey as well. 

The scared is scared of the things you like

Things have been making me sad lately, and by the end of today I felt like I was floating along in a life that is parallel to mine, but I know it's really mine, but it doesn't really feel like mine, but it is.  A good friend suggested I go get a drink, but I took myself to yoga instead. It has been years since I've been to what is a good yoga class for me. And still, I keep trying because when it's good, it's really really good (but when it is bad it is horrid.) I Googled the yoga classes at Third Root Community Health Center, and saw that if I would leave my office right away, I would make it to Gentle Yoga, which is usually the best yoga for me. So I left my office right away, and I did make it to Gentle Yoga, and the teacher was the best teacher I've met in NYC, and I just kept saying (silently to myself) thank you thank you thank you thank you thank you for this class. Also: wow, my muscles are tight.

When I got home, I found this video I've been meaning to look at for some time because I heard it was really creative and sweet, only to discover that it is perfect for me right now. A young filmmaker interviewed a 6-year-old about what a movie should be about, and then animated and directed actors to do what the boy said. The most amazing thing he says in this movie is, and I am transcribing now: 

If some thing feels like they're closing, you should just say, OK, I'm fine. I usually say let it go. Think of something I really like to do. Think of something else until the nervous has gone out of you. That thing disappeared out of my head. Out of my ears. Out of my mouth. When the scared feeling comes into you, the scared is scared of things you like. So, I was scared of a monster, and I thought of pizza. And juice. And some meringues. And a cookie. Chocolate chip cookie. I mean, oatmeal cookie. An then I ate it all up. And some milk. And the cookie was shaped like a piano. A keyboard, I mean.

This is one smart kid. I mean, the scared is scared of the things you like? This just happens to be the central metaphor for my entire year's practice. From the mouth of a 6-year-old. It's good to listen. It's good to listen.