Sunday, June 8, 2014

Sitting with it.

Sometimes I get caught up in this thing where I have a very gossipy story that I must talk about incessantly to my closest friends and family, so much so that I hear "you just can't let it go, can you?" from them and then I realize that something needs to be done. Not letting it go, mind you, I don't really think we can let things go anyway - we can only move on -  but what I need to do is to sit with it.  Let it be. Turn my attention elsewhere until the silt of my true feelings can settle down to the bottom of my brain and I can finally see it clearly for what it is.  Concern. Pain for my friend. Anxiety about their future. Love.

Then the real work begins.

Time for a change

I can feel it in my bones.  Things are about to change.   We are on the precipice of something.  A fresh start? A new place? I don't know exactly know how... but I think it will be good. 

Monday, June 2, 2014


Little Guy turned eight this past winter. All he asked for was Pokemon cards and money to buy Pokemon cards. He was a little obsessed, especially because he loses them almost as quickly as he acquires them. One of his buddies smartly gave him a gift card to Target in lieu of cash which is easily lost or thieved by his sisters.  

A few months later he was itching go to Target, just really talking about it incessantly.  After the third day if nonstop Target talk, I took him by for a quick spree before his gym class.  He spent almost the entire gift card on a big box of Pokemon. He was so stoked.

The next day, after school he asked to go to Target to use the rest of his gift card on one single pack of Pokemon.  "Little Guy," I said, "I just took you there. Where are the Pokemon that you bought yesterday?" "I don't have them anymore. I have them all to David." He said.  "WHAT?!! Why?" I asked, annoyed that after all that nagging and the special trip, he gave them all away.

"Because he didn't have any. And I have enough."

And enough is plenty when your friends have none.

I have learned much from that Little Guy. Now, when someone insists on paying me when I watch their kids after school, or teach them swimming, or do anything I would have done for them anyway, sans compensation, that money gets pinned to the bulletin board. Mitzvah money, we call it, and it stays there until someone we love is in need. Even G puts money on the board, when she gets overcompensated for babysitting or cake baking. 

And eventually, it gets used,  paid forward, because although we don't always have a lot, we do have enough.