From A to B

OK, here it is...

2009-06-16T11:26:00.001+01:00

‘A cloudy day in May’

I gaze ahead towards the mount,
Ambling dully
In a grey trance,
I move unmoved beneath the dreary static
Of an overcast sky.

When quietly,
A pitter-patter of
(tiny, unthreatening)
Droplets
Are conceived by this dirty firmament,
Doe-like in innocence.

The smell transports me
To autumn leaves, failed fireworks
And wet dogs.
The delicate freshness
So quenches my cheeks and lips,
That, thrilled by anticipation,
I push on.

As I reach the first outpost of the climb,
I suspect I hear the sky sneering
As it darkens and grows grimmer, greyer.

Yet my watch reads three,
(And six to go).
At once

With passionate quarrel the sky thrashes and hurls -
Flashing and burning, it roars,
And I, near-broken, weep and howl as the clouds.

‘She is lost’.

Unsheathed, I force battle – but soon
My limbs are left powerless –
I replace sword with shield.
Nowhere to push on to.

Just as the darkest cloud
is set to release its fury upon me,
and I accept, ready to jump if not pushed,
A bright orb peeps out amidst the tumult -

Unnoticed, and unasked,
It glides gracefully towards centre stage
And coats the sodden earth with its golden paint.

Its pale rays twinkle and shimmer,
And all begin to dream again,
From the lone caterpillar emerging onto a leaf
To the endless sea of trees in the valley beneath.

Gently cradled and caressed,
I linger –
Now moved, and moving,
I pirouette and flit and flicker higher.

As the sunlight and I twirl together
We become braided tresses,
Intermingled, intermarried,
No longer alone.

Strengthened,
I shade my eyes, tilt my head,
Recall the summit once more,
Re-armed, this time knowing
What other clouds it might conceal,
I push on.

New beginnings

2009-06-12T00:14:00.006+01:00

Dramatic moment! (aren't they always?!)

I wrote a poem...and I haven't cringed about it once (well, maybe once). It contains feelings and images and even a bit of clever language!

...which makes me think that maybe my surge of writing the various articles below in February wasn't just a phase, and that I shouldn't be discouraged by the past few months' absence.

Dare I declare that it is time for a new dawn of linguistic creativity?

ALSO I've been secretly following a friend's make up blog...and various food blogs...and I'm thinking - surely I think (and can therefore write) about even more interesting things than make up and food put together?

But (note to perfectionist self..) - NO PRESSURE! If the desire to write comes, it comes. If not, not! :)

The sure way of getting nothing for something

2009-02-18T21:02:00.012Z

I don't consider myself to be one to chase after money. I have no desire to pursue a particularly lucrative career path, I don't enjoy splurging unnecessarily (except at Primark), and most of the time I am quite happy to live within my means, whatever those means might be.

However, there are occasions when I find myself drawn to surfing in search of the enigmatic 'free lunch' of the internet.

I've been entering competitions online for years - using websites like The Prize Finder to find the latest desirable winnings available all over the web. I have even succeeded on a few occasions, with a Miss Congeniality VHS and soundtrack, a Cranium board game, an electric hand blender and a Finding Nemo soft toy, mouse and mousemat to my name. I've also been filling in market research surveys on websites like You Gov and Global Test Market since I was a student in order to accrue a few extra pennies for the odd ten minutes of labour whilst checking my emails or writing essays. These online surveys are a perfectly decent, legitimate way to earn a bit extra, especially if you're the type who likes to say what you think, and sites like Opinion World even give you the option of donating your earnings to charity, enabling you to feel virtuous about voicing your views.

But with all these websites, it takes time for the points or cash to add up sufficiently to be paid out, and sometimes, compelled by our treacherous 'instant gratification culture' (and my yetzer hara), I just itch for a quick result, a high payout.

A week or two ago, in a quiet moment at work, I had such an itch...and asked Google the elusive question: 'How to make money online'. After clicking through from one obvious scamming website to another, I came across one that aroused a little more interest in me than the rest. It promised that if I just entered my name and email address, I would be given information that would enable me to 'beat' any online casino roulette, through a system based on mathematical probability. Essentially, it seemed I could make a lot of money in little time, with little effort (the instant gratificat-ees dream!).

I don't know why I continued reading - I have honestly never been interested in gambling. I hate online pop ups for gambling websites. I have been to casinos before, and they make me feel a little sick. I don't play fruit machines and wouldn't be willing to put more than pennies down for a game of poker with friends. I have absolutely no interest in taking risks with my money - it ties in with my philosophy of spending only what I earn and shopping around for the best deal.

But for whatever reason this website grabbed me. It promised that if I gave it my details I wouldn't receive any spam, that the system was guaranteed to work...it seemed pretty safe, so I went for it. I entered my email address, and soon received the free e-book. It explained in detail how to play roulette in such a way that guarantees you to win however much you put down in your original bet, by betting on the same colour (either black or red) until it comes up, doubling your bet each time it doesn't come up. Whenever you do win, you then start again, but betting on the other colour this time, and going through the exact same procedure, doubling your bet until your colour comes up. The website suggested downloading one of the recommended casino programs and testing this out on fun mode, with no risk involved, before trying it with real money...so I figured - what would be the harm?

I downloaded a casino program and tried out the technique. I couldn't get it right at first but eventually got the hang of it, and watched as the 'fun' £s slowly went up and up. In any event, it still felt wrong to be involved in gambling, even in this apparently no-fail capacity, so I left it.

Well, until yesterday.

Maybe I was bored, or feeling a little rebellious, but I decided to go back onto the casino program, and played on fun mode for a little while. Then I decided to play for real money. I would be clear-headed, would stick strictly to the methodology, and only place low starting bets. I went to the Cashier and put £20 into the acccount to start with - I told myself, even if the worst comes to the worst, it's not a lot to lose.

I started to play... And win. And win. And win. The system was certainly proving itself. Slowly slowly, £ after £ trickled in. After a series of quick, easy wins, my colour failed to come up a number of times in a row, and in order to place my next bet of £32 (doubling my previous, as per the method), I would need to put some more money into my account. My pulse quickened. But I told myself - I'm sure I'll win on the next go, I'll just put in another £40, and in any case, £20 probably wasn't enough to start with. So I went to the Cashier, and transferred £40. And I won. And I won again. And again. And again. Soon, my number failed to come up enough times to demand a bet of £64...again, requiring me to put more money in my account to continue. With such comparatively high stakes I felt a greater surge of panic and adrenaline - I'd been playing with starting bets of just £1, after all, and only making £1 with each win. But again, I figured - I'm sure I'll win on the next go, the system can't possibly fail, I'll just put in another £40...and so I did. And I won again...and again...and again...consumed by the game and entirely oblivious to the reality: that I had withdrawn £100 in total from my bank account - £80 more than I'd originally intended. So I continued to play...until I had made a profit of £100. I was pleased, decided to stop, and went to the Cashier requesting for these winnings to be withdrawn.

I may have stopped playing, but I was hooked. I couldn't focus on work, conversations, anything. I wanted to move on to my next casino. My mind was foggy - the question of spending additional money seemed irrelevant, all I could see was the potential to make more in the process.

I downloaded another casino program. I went to the Cashier and withdrew another £100 from my bank account immediately. This casino very kindly gave me a £150 bonus for my investment. I started to play roulette...and won. And won. And won. The website that I originally consulted had stated that it was important to stop after 15-20 minutes, as after this time the tables generally became harder to play. So I kept an eye on the time, and after 20 minutes I had made £70 profit. Not bad at all. I stopped playing, went to withdraw my winnings, when suddenly I thought: 'why not just round it up to £100 first?'

So I went back to the roulette table. I won, and won again, and again, until on one round...my bets were doubling and doubling as red successively failed to come up, and before I knew it it was time for £64 again. But I could see I still had plenty of money to spend (forgetting, of course, in the excitement, that the £150 bonus isn't 'real' money) - so I put down the £64. I pressed 'Spin'...the result was black. I did the maths - £128 for the next bet. I still had the money to spend, or so it seemed anyway, so I put down the £128. Black, again. I did the maths - £256. I would need to take out another £200 from my bank account in order to continue. If I didn't continue, I would lose everything, including the £100 I had orginally withdrawn. Consumed again with adrenaline, and the certainty that red would come up on the next bet, I went to the Cashier and requested for £200 to be taken out from my bank account. (I can hardly believe myself as I write this now.)

I waited for the confirmation...and was told that my card had been declined. I tried again...the card was again declined.

Within minutes, I received a call on my mobile from my bank. She was from the fraud department. She asked me whether the particular transactions involving these two casinos were mine. I confirmed, somewhat hastily in my embarassment, that they were. She said that because the bank had suspected fraud, they had prevented my most recent attempted transaction for £200, but assured me that I would now be able to transfer the £200 with no problems.

I remain amazed at the fact that sometimes, when we are in a really bad place, doing something that we really shouldn't be doing, G-d gives us an opportunity to redeem ourselves...and it is precisely when we least expect and deserve it. In the time that it took for the two attempted transfers to be declined and for the phone call with the fraud department to take place, my brain was able to engage a little more coherently with the situation at hand.

Thank G-d, I had the opportunity to pause before attempting to transfer the £200 for a third time. I thought it through. I weighed up the options, and decided that I would rather the humiliation of losing £100 than to exemplify such foolhardiness by taking out another £200. I quit the game, and closed the program. I tried to resume my day, and despite feeling pretty miserable about my financial loss, I soon realised the extent to which I had made the correct decision.

For I had forgotten, amidst all the panic, that I still had £100 available in the first casino program I had used. If I withdrew this, alongside the £100 profit I had already requested to be sent to me, this would effectively replace the other £100 I had invested and lost in the second casino. I would lose nothing. Except, of course, my time, which I could have invested in somewhat more fulfilling pursuits!

These events made it painfully obvious to me that as a Jew, G-d doesn't want me to 'live by the stars', by basing my decisions on things like statistical likelihood and risk. If Hashem wants me to have money, He'll give it to me through legitimate means, and I am responsible to work hard to earn this. Upon consideration, gambling and the casino environment are quite simply antithetical to how we are supposed to live. At no point did I actually enjoy what I was doing, even when I was winning. My 'safe' gambling was still essentially an activity driven by fear, adrenaline and a greed that I didn't know I had.

My conclusion was clear - I felt quite ashamed by the morning's events, as though I had become debased somehow through my involvement with these casinos. Gone was the desire to attempt to make money in this way. Rather, I would be grateful that I did not lose anything, despite the recklessness of my actions, and grateful that I had been granted the time and space to make the right choice: to quit. Indeed, although I made no financial gains, I certainly earned spiritually. With increased self-understanding, a little more humility, and the opportunity to thank G-d for His endless kindness.

January Blues…For Jews

2009-02-09T17:03:00.016Z

I am so happy to have turned the corner from January into February. I feel stronger, more motivated and able to focus on the good in my life. Long may it continue!

Despite feeling pretty blissful these days, I cannot help but wonder* at those all too frequent moments of bleak unhappiness and even aggression that overwhelmed me but a week or two ago. I can think of no specific life events to point the finger at, so what was it that was bringing me down all the time, causing me to lash out at others and see the world with such a bad eye?

Perhaps I could blame S.A.D. for my feelings of melancholy, but if anything the weather has become gloomier since February arrived, yet my mood has soared in the opposite direction.

Instead, I have been contemplating the possibility that I was suffering from the ‘January Blues’. No longer a moot term it seems – apparently, this phrase is commonly used to describe a general dip in mood and motivation following the excitement and excesses surrounding Christmas and New Year. The phenomenon has even attained the status of a medical condition – with Professor Cary Cooper from the University of Manchester Institute of Science and Technology coining the term “acute post-bank holiday depression syndrome”. Although I worry that ‘medicalising’ an issue runs the risk of perpetuating it further, it appears to have some solid support - the Samaritans report the highest levels of suicide during the month of January (chas v’shalom, lo aleinu, etc.)

In the course of my brief research into the subject, I was disconcerted to read that some have chosen to commercialise this unfortunate phenomenon. A little web-vine investigation revealed that January 19th was 2009’s official Blue Monday, a.k.a ‘the worst day of the year’. This was first defined by Dr. Cliff Arnall of Cardiff University, and marks the final full week of January when people experience a series of combined depressive effects. Working with public relations company Porter Novelli, he devised the mathematical equation:

[W + (D-d)] x TQ

______________

M x NA

The model was broken down using 6 immediately identifiable factors: weather (W), debt (d), time since Christmas (T), time since failing our new year’s resolutions (Q), low motivational levels (M) and the feeling of a need to take action (Na). Thankfully, solutions can be found on this website.

The question remains…if an entire third of Dr Amall’s equation relates to the previous month’s secular festivities, why did I spend January feeling both sorry for myself and frustrated with those around me? How, as an observant Jew, who, for reasons not solely relating to the aformentioned observance, strives to be as un-observant of the secular festive period as possible, could I possibly be affected by this so-called ‘post-bank holiday syndrome’?

It is clear that my experiences have little to do with the festive period, or the January Blues for that matter. For, as my good little Jewish voice tells me, we all go through periods of flux, and the hard times come upon us in order for us to work through them, and grow just a little bit stronger as a result. In this instance, it just happened to take me until February to achieve that goal.

Nonetheless, part of me still wants to apportion seasonal blame rather than introspect more deeply…so below are some cute excerpts from one of my (secretly) favourite Jewish websites – inner.org – about the Hebrew month of Tevet. The various references to overcoming anger in particular do seem to fit in quite nicely with some of my Tevet experiences...

Mazal: Capricorn (Gedi, the kid)
Our sages teach us that at the age of ten (an allusion to the tenth month, the level of ten in general) a child "jumps like a goat." (Midrash Kohelet) The playful nature of jumping up and down "like a goat" reflects an important stage in the growing-up process. The month of Tevet, the month of the tribe of Dan, relates to the growing-up process, from a state of immaturity to a state of maturity.
Immaturity is characterized by the "evil eye," while maturity is characterized by the "good eye." Gedi = 17 = tov, "good" (the "good eye"). One must play (and jump up and down like a goat) in order to rectify and sweeten the anger latent in ones animal soul.

Tribe: Dan
The tribe of Dan represents the initial state of immaturity in the soul that "grows-up" during the month of Tevet. Dan means "to judge." Initially, he judges reality and others critically, with severe judgment (the "evil eye"). This is the nature of one who is spiritually immature. Dan is likened to a snake, who bites with the venom of anger. The "evil eye" is the eye of the snake.
The rectification of Dan is his engaging in the battle of holy anger against evil anger. Our sages teach us that only one from the soul-root of Dan can spontaneously jump up and kill the evil snake--"one like him, killed him."

Sense: Anger
The sense of holy anger, or righteous indignation (the rectification of the month of Tevet) is the ability of the soul to arouse one's good inclination to become angry at one's evil inclination. This our sages teach us in their commentary on the verse in Psalms: "Be angry and don't sin."
Positive anger expresses the deepest care and concern of the soul that reality become good. Though even to this anger there is a certain element of immaturity (for absolute maturity, that of the Creator of reality, sees [with the ayin of Tevet] all as good), nonetheless, of it is said: "for Israel is [behaves as] a lad, and [therefore] I [G-d] love him."
In Chassidut we are taught that one must direct his left ("evil") eye towards himself (with the holy anger of his innate good against his innate evil), to lower and subdue his ego, while simultaneously directing his right ("good") eye towards outer reality (by which power he helps reality perfect itself).

Controller: Liver
The sages teach us that "the liver is angry." The function of the liver [kaved, in Hebrew] is to purify the blood with which it is saturated. In Kabbalah, the liver corresponds to the primordial snake, whose rectification is personified by Dan. (The three "rulers" of the body and soul are the brain, the heart, and the liver, which correspond to Adam, Eve, and the snake, respectively).
The snake, in Kabbalah, represents the initial state of immaturity of the soul, as characterized by the unrectified attribute of anger. The venom of the snake is hot (see above, the month of Cheshvan), like the fire of anger. When converted to the good, the fire (and blood of the liver) serve to warm the cold month of Tevet.

(*oops, another Carrie moment. Once a BT always a BT...)

My Favourite Things

2009-02-08T17:12:00.011Z

In no particular order.

R
Chicken soup
Really small pasta with lots of butter and salt
Cuddles
Green olives
Cheese
Galaxy chocolate
MRC
Jerusalem
The view from Har Nof
Moshav Band
Sunshine
Summer holidays - anywhere
Photographs
Watching old movies with my parents
Playing Nintendo with my brother
Cheese on toast
Fresh orange juice
Margherita pizza
Shakespeare
Primark
My engagement ring
Eternity Love perfume
Snow Patrol
Salad dressing
Haagen Dazs Raspberry Sorbet
Cats
Tropical fish
Newspaper supplements
Vanilla scented candles
Rabbi Tatz
Orchids
Pink lilies
Fresh lemonade
Skiing
The elusive perfect cup of tea
Dancing
The beach
St. Maxime
My grandmothers (o''s)
Fields of tall grass
Crocodile Antiques
Beads
Derech Hashem
Talking til late
Hippies
The smell of garlic frying
The smell of coffee roasting
The smell of my mum

On becoming a blogger

2009-02-07T23:38:00.006Z

I have to talk about the fact, and act, of writing. This blog exists now, and I can't help but grow excited about what this both does and could mean to me.

My relationship with writing has been predominantly academic. Private school, grammar school, perfect GCSEs and A-levels, first class degree. And so far, I'm painfully aware of how little my blog reflects this. I don't know whether to be disappointed or proud. I feel torn between a perfectionist desire to only create word-perfect, inspiring, yet intellectually-grounded and challenging pieces of text, and a simpler drive to just write how I feel. On the one hand, I can hear my self-critical impulse whispering to me to can it all and certainly never to share the fact of this blog's existence with a soul (husband excepted), and on the other hand, I think it really is something to have the strength to click on 'Publish Post' and to declare: this is mine, I can put it out there, and I can love myself for expressing my thoughts in whatever shape they might take. Why should I feel boxed into grammar checking and editing, worrying about whether I'm being too emotional or not enough, whether I'm saying something too cliched or something too alien?

Having said all of that, I will surely read back now and make sure that the last paragraph was written OK and contained the appropriate level of emotion and intellectual grounding. But part of me hopes that one day I won't.

M'ayn Olam Haboh

2009-02-07T19:20:00.002Z

Baruch Hashem, I am elated. I think I have had one of the most meaningful Shabbos experiences of my life so far.

For the first time, we decided to invite our parents for Friday night dinner, and were obviously very concerned as to how to make the experience as positive as possible for everyone. Our families aren't observant, and we wanted them to share in the joy of Shabbos with us, but without feeling under pressure to conform, or, at the other extreme, that it was just a normal evening with their newly-married children.

However, with so much siyata d'shmaya, we had a memorable and joyful evening with them in our home.

Our parents were due to arrive about two hours after the end of shul, and about an hour before Shabbos came in I suddenly worried that our regular Shabbos candles wouldn't last long enough. But not long after, a friend who was coming the following day for seuda shlishis brought us round a Shabbos gift...a pair of beautiful candles from Tsfas. The box indicated that they would last at least five hours.

Meanwhile, my husband was concerned about the possibility of his mother giving us flowers, and what we would do in the circumstances (as they would be muktzeh on Shabbos). Fortunately, I remembered an Aish family I had eaten with a few years ago explaining to me that when non-observant Shabbos guests brought round flowers, they would put them in a ceramic (i.e. non-transparent) vase so that the guests would not be embarassed that the flowers had not been put in water. We have two such vases in our home, so I assured him that in such a case we would be able to use one of these. His parents arrived...with a box of chocolates, and some flowers...in a pot!

I cannot deny that some amount of sweat and tears preceded our first Shabbos with our parents, but the joy we shared on Friday evening made the effort truly worthwhile.

They stayed for three and a half hours, and the conversation never ran dry. They listened and followed along in their benchers when we sang, made kiddush, benched...during our week of sheva brachos, I often saw them ignoring such proceedings and continuing their conversations. They were respectful, even at times admiring...expressing their surprise at the obvious lengths that we had gone to to prepare all the food, and continuously complimenting us on both its quality and the effort that had gone in to making everything just so. And it reminded me that even as a BT, we can be so asleep to the meaning intrinsic to our everyday actions once we have adopted a religious lifestyle. Because of course we work all week to make beautiful Shabbos food - as a Jewish wife, it's just what you do, right? But when you stop and think about it, it really must look crazy to someone on the outside - what do you mean you throw a gorgeous, elaborate dinner party every single week? Serving four courses on your best plates with your best cutlery and best wine glasses - for what? Not for the queen of England or a rich businessman we want to impress - all we want to do is give kavod to Shabbos, and in return, Hashem rewards us with Shabbos, with all its inherent shalom and simcha.

My experience and appreciation of this Shabbos was unprecedented, yet (as is often the case with such impactful experiences) rooted in a simple idea. Our working so hard all week to prepare the house and the food was precisely what created the incomparably joyful reward: the happiness and Jewish pride I felt in sharing Shabbos with my family. Funny how you can hear an idea so many times and only at a certain point in your life can you internalise and own it for the first time.

Rav Noach Weinberg zt'l

2009-02-06T09:18:00.000Z

When I heard of the news of Rav Noach Weinberg’s passing yesterday, I was shocked and saddened, but superficially, not yet able to grasp the impact of this event.

The day just...passed. I went to work, bought some food for Shabbos, cooked for Shabbos, learned with my husband, tried to get an early night. A pretty ordinary Thursday.

This morning, I started my day, got ready for work, and waited for my cleaner to arrive. A pretty ordinary Friday. Until I started washing the dishes. Don’t ask me why it was the dishes, but I was thinking about Shabbos and all the little things that needed doing, and before I knew it I was in tears, as the realisation shot through me.

I wouldn’t be washing these dishes if it wasn’t for him. I wouldn’t be listening to this CD if it wasn’t for him. I wouldn’t be dressed like this if it wasn’t for him. I wouldn’t be preparing for Shabbos at all if it wasn’t for him. I wouldn’t live in this house if it wasn’t for him. I wouldn’t have this job if it wasn’t for him. I wouldn’t be married if it wasn’t for him.

I wept and cried out to G-d as I realised that in fact, I owe this man my life. Every happiness, fulfilment, and sense of purpose and meaning that I enjoy, I owe to him.

I never met Rav Weinberg - I only heard him speak once in person - and neither did so many Jews whose lives he changed. But in many ways he was my father. He nurtured my soul from the day I decided six years ago to join an Aish trip to New York. And thinking of everything that has happened since, I cannot forget him, and can only weep as I think of the void that his passing has left in our world. His influence brought me to G-d, and to the desire to live a meaningful life. I owe him that life.

I truly hope and pray that the work that he started will continue to flourish, so that many more Jews can be touched by his teachings, and embrace truth and meaning in their lives.

May Rav Weinberg be eternally blessed, and may the Almighty grant his soul only peace and joy. May his impact continue to be felt by thousands more Jews, and in the zchus of his vast achievements in this world may we merit to see the coming of Mashiach.

Baruch Dayan Ha'Emes.