One morning in the pool, one of my bffs spoke about listening to music in a renewed way during a week-long jazz cruise. While listening to Niki Haris sing “Yesterday” and then “Killing me Softly,” both songs my friend had heard many, many times, she heard the lyrics differently. We talked about why this happened, and then I decided to pay more attention to the music in my life.

In recent months, I developed a routine of putting on “Closer to Fine” by the Indigo Girls when I got in the car every day. After speaking with my friend about her experience, I really focused on the song’s lyrics:

“The best thing you’ve ever done for me
is to help me take my life less seriously,
it’s only life after all.”

What????!!!!

All of a sudden, a few lines I had loved since first hearing them more than 20 years ago were neither comfortable nor comforting.

Had the lyrics changed on me?

.           .           .           .           .           .           .           .           .           .           .

So much of what and how we hear—songs, requests, complaints, or even our own inner voices—has to do with what we bring to the listening. My late husband, Peter (z”l), used to call all of this our “baggage.” I prefer to think of it as our “life experience.” Either way, it often prevents me from listening carefully.

Learning how to be a better listener means I have to really open up my ears (and heart and mind) and focus on the words I am hearing. Learning to listen quietly, to ponder more what I am hearing, to be mindful of what I bring to the moment, and to ask more questions instead of wanting to offer a quick comeback…these are all tools which will help me become a better listener, as I seek to continue to take my life more seriously.

It’s my life, after all. And I do want to move closer to fine.

 

 

This week I watched a new film, The Black Panthers: Vanguard of the Revolution, directed by Stanley Nelson, Jr. It is currently airing on PBS stations around the country. The film inspired me to re-read the Panthers’ Ten-Point Program (reproduced below), a manifesto for social justice that is as compelling today as it was when it was published 40 years ago. As a white ally, I know that my tasks include staying informed of current events, deepening my knowledge of Black history (and not just in February), and joining in the struggles to ensure that Black Lives Matter.

What We Want Now!

1. We want freedom. We want power to determine the destiny of our Black Community.
2. We want full employment for our people.
3. We want an end to the robbery by the white men of our Black Community.
4. We want decent housing, fit for shelter of human beings.
5. We want education for our people that exposes the true nature of this decadent American society. We want education that teaches us our true history and our role in the present day society.
6. We want all Black men to be exempt from military service.
7. We want an immediate end to POLICE BRUTALITY and MURDER of Black people.
8. We want freedom for all Black men held in federal, state, county and city prisons and jails.
9. We want all Black people when brought to trial to be tried in court by a jury of their peer group or people from their Black Communities, as defined by the Constitution of the United States.
10. We want land, bread, housing, education, clothing, justice and peace.

If you missed the film, you can watch it on the PBS website until March 18, 2016.

I also want to give a special shout out to the White Privilege Conference, an outstanding organization that I was involved with for several years. This year the WPC will meet in Philadelphia, April 14 – 17.

 

 

I hear lots of people say that they are “creatures of habit.” Some affirm this with great pride, and some with a touch of self-deprecation. Most have a habit of repeating it with a bit of both.

I, too, have my habits. Some are worth keeping (meeting my bffs in the pool for early morning exercise) and some could bear changing (drinking two double-shot lattes when I wake up).

What I am noticing these days is the growing role of more soulful habits in my life, habits that have become rituals.

One of my favorites has been going around the Shabbat table on Friday nights to share expressions of gratitude as well as an example of something from the past week we are each proud of. Having done this at the home of friends many times, I added it into the mix at my own table right after the High Holidays last fall.

Time and again, this ritual slows us down and invites us to linger over the blessings of the evening. As we let go of the stresses and challenges of the week, we pause, hold onto, and share a few things that hold meaning for us. My guests and I get to know each other better through this exercise, even if we already enjoy a close relationship. Sometimes the gratitude expressed is for ongoing blessings, like renewed health or the gift of Shabbat itself. At other times, it is simply for one another, for the relationship, for each doing our part to make Shabbat joy together.

Feeling and expressing gratitude come easily to me. On the other hand, saying what I am proud of can be a reach, as I strive to attain the healthiest amount of humility. Weekly practice has provided me with a ritualized growth opportunity, even though I still sometimes struggle with naming what I am proud of in myself.

Unlike habits, some of which I repeat without intention, this grateful for/proud of ritual has me reflecting hours before we even gather on Friday night. In doing so, my heart and home begin to fill with warmth and love, as I eagerly anticipate welcoming Shabbat with others.

 

There’s something about knowing I will turn 60 this year that has made me sit up and pay more attention to how I spend my time and energy. Perhaps it’s not about planning more, but rather being more mindful about what it is I am planning.

My husband Peter’s (z”l) sudden and unexpected death a little over a year ago provided a harsh reminder that none of us will live forever. Last year, during the Yamim Nora’im,[1] my prayers and supplications to be inscribed in the Book of Life reached an intensity I had not heard in myself before.

Here are some of the questions on my mind and from my heart:

How do I want to spend this last part of my life?

How do I want to be thought of now, and remembered later?

What do I want to experience?

What do I want to create?

Which parts of the younger me do I wish to reclaim?

How can I contribute to the struggles for justice that speak to me?

Who deserves my love?

Let’s see what this writing brings…and offers…

[1] The 10 day period between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur