tamarjacobson

Quote of the day:

I stay positive because I am creative, and more importantly, very easily deluded by myself. Writers know that there are always new twists, new characters, and new loves as the plot grows. So, even when things turn sour — it’s no problem; it is not impossible for a bag of gold to fall into your lap the next day, on the way to work. Neil Kramer

Holding hands with Ada this morning:

http://www.facebook.com/v/330526370395

Happy Sixtieth to my darling life-long friend Jan, who celebrated mine with me last year – in Paris!

Jan is the one on the far right of the photograph. We have been friends since Upper High School years, and every year since we have called each other on our birthdays no matter where the other lives. While Jan currently lives in Italy, I caught her at 11:00 p.m. her time while visiting in Australia to celebrate her birthday. It was 7:00 a.m. my time this morning. Joyeux anniversaire, darling friend!

A friend wrote on Facebook this morning:

Love like mad! Don't take ANYTHING for granted! It's going to be a beautiful day!

Happy Valentine's Day everyone!

A year ago at Mining Nuggets: For Molly

Quote of the day:

I've been sifting through the layers of dusty books and faded and papers that tell a story I used to know, it was one that happened so long ago. Kate Wolf, Across the Great Divide.

This morning I spent a few hours going through my old memory box, which is full of cards, letters and gifts that I have been hoarding for years, from family, friends and loved ones. Items and expressions that have buoyed me up and given me strength and courage to keep the hope alive. It seems I needed to review them as some events have caused me painful, emotional abandonment feelings. In fact, there were many things I threw out, and some I sat quietly and read through, feeling a sense of where I have been and how I arrived at this point in time. I remembered how recently an acquaintance had admonished me for self-piteous whining about how anonymous I always feel, and how no one knows who I am because I keep moving from country to country, state to state, town to town. Indeed, she instructed me that it does not matter if people know about my past or not. It is important to realize for myself how I came to be who I am today, and that all those things and stuffs that happened in the past went to making up who I am now. Great words of wisdom, which although painful to hear at that moment, are gratefully accompanying me since.

And so, I threw out quite a few cards and letters, gifts and items that are not necessary for me to hold onto any longer. 

It feels lighter somehow. 

I must be entering a new phase. 

Indeed, when I look at myself in the mirror, I see a different me. While, I still feel like the old me deep inside, on the surface I look like someone else completely:

[before]

[after]

[even further before]

  
[even more recently]

All those pieces of me are firmly within my sense of self and my old emotional memory box. I no longer need to hold onto external stuff to tell me who I am. It is becoming clearer and clearer inside my gut, how I feel, but more importantly, how I interpret my feelings. 

My new therapist is an expert, an artist. Even as it feels almost as if I am writhing in agony, as I weep openly, copiously, he holds still watching me, relentlessly, coaxing me back to my deepest feelings, and invites me to confront them head on. I am starting to understand that he trusts my courage to do this. Indeed, he should, because I am hungry to learn. Turning sixty has made me realize, more than ever before, that there is no time to mess about with this stuff! I want to work this through and come to some peaceful state of mind before I die. 

No time like here and now … here and now … here and now …

As evening falls and the darkening sky settles on the white blanket of snow outside my window, the urge to write rises in me. Not being sure what I want to write about I sit at my computer with only the light from the screen shining gently on the keyboard. Ada sighs and relaxes into a deep sleep seeming satisfied that I will be spending some time near her click clacking at the keys. Shoulders and arms ache – a healthy pain of long, hard snow shoveling with all the neighbors in our parking lot this afternoon. A community of women and men, wrapped in coats, hats, scarves and gloves, shoveling and brushing, maneuvering the cars in and out while helping one another prepare for the regular work day in the morning. 

So much laughter as the sun shone onto car roof-tops and snow blew down on us from the old, huge Chestnut Hill trees. These small moments of camaraderie mean a lot to me. For I have always enjoyed the kindness of strangers. Someone called me a saint as I pushed and lifted huge shovel loads of snow out from under their wheels. I chuckled aloud. "I am not a saint!" I called out, "I am repenting for all my past sins!" Wild shouts of laughter from all around. Scrape, scrape, shovel, shovel, crunch, crunch. As we finished with one car, on we pressed to another and another until all were cleaned up, shiny and wet and ready for the new day ahead. 

I stumbled back into the apartment muscles complaining from areas in my arms and legs I had forgotten about. I took a long drink of cool sparkling water and looked around the kitchen. 

What to do next?

Wild Geese, by Mary Oliver:

You do not have to be good.
You do not have to walk on your knees
for a hundred miles through the desert repenting.
You only have to let the soft animal of your body
love what it loves.
Tell me about despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.
Meanwhile the world goes on.
Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain
are moving across the landscapes,
over the prairies and the deep trees,
the mountains and the rivers.
Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,
are heading home again.
Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,
the world offers itself to your imagination,
calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –
over and over announcing your place
in the family of things.

A year ago at Mining Nuggets: The peace train

A year ago at Mining Nuggets: Quote of the day (Update)

Update:

We will have to repent in this generation not merely for the hateful words and actions of the bad people but for the appalling silence of the good people. Martin Luther King Jr. in, Letter From a Birmingham Jail.

Thank goodness for Rachel Maddow and her strong voice …

http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/32545640

Visit msnbc.com for breaking news, world news, and news about the economy

From CCIE this morning:

On January 27, historian, professor, lecturer, playwright, and filmmaker, Howard Zinn, passed away. In his autobiography, You Can't Be Neutral on a Moving Train, Zinn made these remarks about being hopeful:

"To be hopeful in bad times is not just foolishly romantic. It is based
on the fact that human history is a history not only of cruelty, but
also of compassion, sacrifice, courage, kindness.  What we choose to
emphasize in this complex history will determine our lives. If we see
only the worst, it destroys our capacity to do something. If we
remember those times and places — and there are so many — where people
have behaved magnificently, this gives us the energy to act, and at
least the possibility of sending this spinning top of a world in a
different direction.

"And if we do act, in however small a
way, we don't have to wait for some grand utopian future. The future
is an infinite succession of presents, and to live now as we think
human beings should live, in defiance of all that is bad around us, is
itself a marvelous victory."

A year ago at Mining Nuggets: Round and round and round

I remember the time my young teenage son decided to make his own school lunch. For a week or so I had been feeling worthless, empty, and blue. And then one morning I wandered into the kitchen, and as I watched my son making his school lunch, I realized what my sadness all that week had been about. Yes indeed! My baby did not need me any more, and Lord knows the one way I could show that I was needed was, at the very least, through feeding him! It was one more necessary loss. One more loss of control – loss of influence. I remember breathing a sigh of relief as I realized what my feelings of emptiness were about.

This morning I woke out of a long nightmarish dream, where I was unable to fix a problem, and wherever I went it was either the wrong place, or people closed their doors to me. The frustration and angst was palpable. Suddenly, I shook myself awake, sat straight up in my bed, and stared into the still dark of the very early morning. Strangely I felt clearer – less heavy – less empty, than I had been feeling for quite a few days. I busied myself with pouring coffee, checking emails, bank statements, feeding the cat, cleaning her litter – on and on. And then … as I was pouring my second cup of coffee, the memory of my son making his own school lunch so many years ago popped into my mind as vividly as if it were right now.

For now, twenty years later, he has chosen not to need me again. In his gentle way, he has become assertive and strong with me, pushing me back and away. Something he obviously needs and wants to do for himself in this stage in his life. For days, no weeks, maybe even months, my brain and heart have been crying out: "Hey! I can fix your problems. I know how. All you have to do is … my way … " 

But he has decided to go it alone. My frustration and angst has been palpable. The feelings of loss have been excruciating. But, finally, this morning, I think I get it! As I write this, I am starting to breathe a sigh of relief, because, perhaps, I am beginning to understand – I mean, really understand – what my feelings of emptiness are about. 

I think this is what it means … to let go …

Update:

Friends comment about this post on Facebook:

Jan:

BRILLIANT, my treasure! Now you have SPACE to stand back and see what you have launched on the world: a STAR! A serious, funny, brilliant STAR! CLLLLLLLEVER you! As you know stars only shine when they have a lot of sky aorund them …

Aeron:

From Meet the Press today:

MR. GREGORY:  And Alito's response? 

MR. AXELROD:  Well, I–look, we–in this weird political season, we've become accustomed to unusual outbursts in the chamber during these speeches, so.

"Unusual outbursts." Now that's a reframe if ever I heard one! 

How's about inappropriate and disrespectful behavior? 

If you are too wise and humble to say so, Mr. Axelrod (which I appreciate and admire), 

… allow me say it for you! 

And Alito's response? 
Inappropriate and disrespectful! (Tamarika)

I received this joke in an email this morning from my mother-in-law, JJ. I share it with you … here: 

A group of 40 years old buddies discussed where they should meet for dinner. 

Finally it was agreed upon that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the waitress's there had low cut blouses and were very young.

10 years later at 50 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. Finally it was agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the food there was very good and the wine selection was good also.

10 years later at 60 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. Finally it was agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because they could eat there in peace and quiet and the restaurant had a beautiful view of the ocean.

10 years later, at 70 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. Finally it was agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because the restaurant was wheel chair accessible and they even had an elevator.

10 years later, at 80 years of age, the group once again discussed where they should meet for dinner. Finally it was agreed that they should meet at the Ocean View restaurant because they had never been there before. 

I raise my coffee cup to us all! Happy days ahead! Thanks, JJ!