Yesterday was both sad and hopeful. Debbie Friedman, a force for healing and peace in the Jewish music world died much too soon. Her music brought us comfort, prayer and a closeness to a divine power all set to melodies which caused your heart to cry, to love, to heal. Her negum (melodies) are used in synagogue services all over the world, her concerts brought joy to millions. I only saw her live once, this past Rosh Hashanah, second day, when she joined the services at B'nai Horin. She talked about moving back to the west coast, her energy was so uplifting that you just knew the New Year would be a better one. But, alas, her year did not last past yesterday. However her spirit and her love will be inspiring people for generations to come. Rest well, Debbie.

To follow that news with a rally by Jewish World Watch to show solidarity with southern Sudan in its referendum for secession from northern Sudan, into its own independent country somehow felt fitting. We waved signs, made speeches and tried to rally the consciousness of the world that the vote must be peaceful and recognized after it's completed. Too many people get killed in too many places around the world, especially in Africa, for wanting democracy, the right to independence and a peaceful life. It's 2011, when will we ever learn and be better human beings?

It's a new year and I've decided to start the blog again. This time I won't expect anyone to follow it, it will just be my personal occasional comments on what I see. Sort of like the diary I kept when I was fourteen. I only did it for six weeks, but when I look at it now, I wonder if I've actually advance any.

I stopped my full-time job of publicity a couple of years ago and since then have been waging a one-woman war against the word "retired." If you're not working ( and have not summarily been let go or fired) do you really want that tag of retired stuck to you? I'm a writer, active in politics, involved in Jewish World Watch which supports projects to aid women and children in The Congo and Darfur, do animal observations at the LA Zoo and once a week mentor a schoolgirl in reading. And believe me, there's still time left over.

To me the word retired means you've given up, not participating in life. You can do that at age 20, you don't need to wait until you've stopped working. But why would anyone want to give up? We all get into a blue funk, but there's too much going on in the world that needs us, to stop everything.

The writing of course is the most important. I'm on the second draft of the second novel and feeling unsure about the whole process, but that's a blog for another day.

Susan Boyle, It's All Wrong

I'm a little late to jump on the bandwagon over Susan Boyle, but I'm not interested in talking about how I teared up when I heard her sing, or whether or not she's real or a hoax perpertrated on the world of YouTube. My concern is the cruelty that was extended to her, the sneers, the guffaws that were seen before she started to sing. The Guardian was quoted as saying that just becasue she's ugly, we shouldn't have assumed she couldn't sing, after all we don't hold ugly men to the same standards.

My problem is where do we all get off saying she's ugly, that she needs a makeover before we can applaud her. Even now people are betting on how long before she plucks the eybrows, is lasered, botoxed, cinched in, re-dressed according to our fashion trends. We're all patting ourselves on our backs because we were generous enough to allow this woman to enter our hallowed halls of beauty, even though we're hoping she changes fast enough so we don't have to deal with the chubby figure and over forty (heavens, it's closer to fifty) person of the female gender. Once she does, she becomes just another YouTube clip and we can return to our smug little lives.

Don't do it Susan. And keep those judges away from giving you your first kiss, as if they were handing out food to the hungry at a food pantry.

Birthday by the sea

I'm not quite a Pisces, I'm right on the cusp of Aires, but the ocean (actually any moving body of water) is like a meditation to me. Never learned to swim well, become panicked if my feet don't touch the bottom, but put me next to the surf or overlooking a fast-moving river and I can find my bliss. Given the opportunity and I totally zone out and go catatonic. Even knowing its limits, the ocean gives me the sense of infinity, which even the star-lit heavens can't.

So it's natural to want to see the ocean on or around my birthday (March 22 in case anybody actually reads this). This year it was Santa Barbara over Malibu and to say my spirits were lifted is a major understatement. The sound of gulls, the lap of waves, the deep green-blue color, the soft grey-blue sky, it's why we all came out to California and stay,- despite the traffic, the smog, the drivers who are bent on trying to occupy our lane even while we are still in the lane,- we're here and we're still standing.

Of coure I'm the person who when I lived in NYC, would go to sit overlooking the East River and watch the Pearlwick Hamper sign blink on and off, and think that combo was meditative. I told you I'm a sucker for any body of water that moves, but it does have to be bigger than my bathtub.

Go watch a wave, it's good for you!

Enjoy your freedom

It's been an eon since I last posted and since then we've had an ecconomic meltdown, the world is obsessed with Twitter and texting, friends have lost their jobs, I'm financially down and yet this morning I am smiling and feeling good. Am I crazy? Maybe. But at times like these, the mere fact that I am breathing, walking, lifting weights (I'm aiming for Michelle Obama arms, forget Madonna)and able to look forward to the future.

Passover is almost upon us and for those who are not Jewish (and even some who are), the story is of getting freedom, leaving behind in Egypt (everyone has their own particular Egypt) all the things that drag us down into the rut of slavery. Believe me, slavery of the mind and spirit can seen easy and we stay there because it doesn't require any thinking on our part, we just have to exist instead of live. Well, even though I'm down in the $$$ dept., I'm still eating and paying the mortgage. (yes, it's way down, but not quite finished) Gratitude is my freedom for this year. The more I appreciate, the better I'll feel.

It's spring, dammit. Get out and enjoy it!

Two Minutes Can Just Whiz By In A Flash

Who knew that as an author I'd be back auditioning myself and my book for a roomful of strangers who are looking for an easy fix for their booking problems. I was part of a two hour slog, where dozens of other writiers were also delivering their two-minute pitch as we all dutifully clapped every time someone was introduced and then when they finished. The girl next to me couldn't stop texting except when it was her turn and she suddenly was doing stand up as the Chinese chef of a book for Jewish noshers, "the chosen food for the chosen people."

What chance did I have next to that and "good girls doing bad things," or "orthodox Judaism, with sex, drugs and rock and roll?" A novel about gaining insight and striving to fulfill your dreams over the summer of 1943? Who would book me next to Alan Zwiebel? Or the two singing Jewish princesses, dressed in their high heels and aprons, qvelling about only making reservations, not dinner?

But it was an oppoortunity (a very expensive one, I might add) and who am I to say no to any opportunity? I'll know better next time. Stilettos, mini-skirt, feathers (who cares if I'm too old, it will get attention) and I'll throw in the sex, drugs and rock and roll or maybe a little klezmer.

What if you wrote a blog and nobody came

Writing is considered a solitary game, so blogging without readers shouldn't be such a catastrophe, but even when you keep a diary, you're always hoping that someone will actually take a peek once in awhile. That's why I finally decided to self-publish my novel, so that finally people could read it after all my years of talking about it. And you know what, having people read AND like it was really good, validating, you know, now I could legitimately call myslef a writer.

But when no one ever bothers to read or comment on my blogs (which I admit will win no prizes even in blogland) it gets a little lonely. So for further validation, I've come up with a list of thing I do that make my day worthwhile.

Writing
Rescue animals
Being a good friend
Mentoring a child in reading
Volunteering at the Zoo
Helping my neighbors (that includes strangers aroound the world)

Not that much when you consider how much crap is going on around the world, but the best I can come up with just now.

How about you?