Monday, March 19, 2018



I believe I am a kind person, but reading books on kindness, like "The Power of Kindness" by Piero Ferrucci, expands my scope of kindness. It broadens my realization of just how significant it is to make kindness be a way of life. To be patient, empathetic and attentive, toward myself and toward others. To give people space and safety. To appreciate people - and to remind them of my appreciation of them. To be generous with my thoughts, ideas and skills. To share them. To be genuine and sincere. This involves having faith that my true inner self can safely be shown in the world. It's having faith in humanity. It's being vulnerable, and thus allowing and accepting the vulnerabilities of others, and that of the world itself. It is realizing that life becomes richer when you focus on those you love and on what you love, with a full heart. Not running around, but focusing. Focusing on what is now. Focusing on unity and connection. Being kind means greeting a grumpy person with a smile, or replying with patience to an annoying customer. It means feeling that the world is literally becoming a better place with each good intention and positive reinforcement, or even with each speck of beauty that the world unfolds in front of us. It is appreciating the little things, and being grateful. It means not pretending to know more than we do, and always striving to learn more. It means that working toward spreading tolerance and compassion overrides proving to be "right" (and perhaps finding that there is no definite "right"), and it means always leaving room for reconciliation. Kindness means saying Good Morning and Good Night, and not forgetting an old friend's birthday.

Thursday, March 15, 2018

Nonviolent Anarchy

Emma Goldman on Wikipedia
Anarcho-Pacifism on Wikipedia (nonviolent anarchy)

Just putting it out there, so that you can learn together with me about some radical political movements and ideas. I looked up the latter after reading about the former and wondering if there's a nonviolent form of anarchy - which I personally am more attracted to. I'm wondering if I've always believed in some sort of anarchy without knowing it.

Noam Chomsky on Wikipedia


I feel like there's a lot I'd write if I knew how to write.

Well, I'm improving on the guitar, and playing and singing brings me a lot of joy. I'm thankful for the ability to do those two things. I'm taking guitar lessons with the talented cantor of the synagogue. We're doing it with a barter system, where I babysit her children sometimes and she teaches me guitar other times.

Just another of the blessings of Bellingham.

Oh, and Springtime is finally starting!

Tuesday, March 06, 2018

Waldorf Education - Every parent should consider this

(Copied from a facebook post I wrote:)

" provide an education that enables children to become free human beings, and to help children to incarnate their 'unfolding spiritual identity', carried from the preceding spiritual existence, as beings of body, soul, and spirit in this lifetime." (From the Wikipedia page, about the holistic philosophy of Waldorf.)
I would like to share my impressions from my visit in all the classrooms at a Waldorf school this past week.
(In Israel Waldorf education is called Anthroposophic אנתרופוסופי, but it is essentially the same.)
In each classroom that I entered, I saw teachers talking quietly to attentive children. The classrooms are spacious, lit, and furnished with natural wood materials. The lower grades have high ceilings, large windows, pastel-colored window curtains, and handkerchiefs hanging over wooden structures against one of the walls which is their free-play area. In one fairy-land (that's how it made me feel) that I entered, the children were in a circle, chanting or playing a game led by the teacher, who sat with them in the circle and led the game in a soft voice. Another of the younger grades was sitting around a table, eating soup and bread they had baked the day before. The teacher was sitting at the head of the table, holding a fairy doll, telling a story or chanting a prayer before the food, again - is such a patient and lulling voice. No urgency. No anger. One child was not at the table, he was in the kitchen area, not wanting to participate. The teachers did not scold him (as would most likely happen in a regular school).
In another room, young children were in transition - from outdoors to indoors - getting their indoor clothing on again, comfy clothes. Transitions are a part of the routine. There is a lot of patience for transition. There is no need to hurry.
Another class was in the movement room, having their Eurythmy movement lesson, while their movements corresponded with a story the dancer-teacher was telling.
In the older grades the students were sitting behind pretty light-wooden desks, with each child's name written by her/him on the front of the desk. On the walls of the classrooms (instead of the regular brightly-colored posters in regular schools) was artwork by the students and teachers made out of natural materials. When I entered one of the classrooms, one of the students was in the middle of telling about some beautiful nature she saw on a family trip in Utah.
I don't know if I am able to really capture the gist of it in these words. My impression was that I had entered a safe and gentle space where children can be creative and can learn from teachers who sing songs and tell stories, from teachers who listen as well as talk, who don't try to squeeze a thousand words a minute in order to transfer as much information to kids as possible. (From teachers who are actually fairies perhaps?)
Every child knows the routine and structure.
Free playtime and imagination are sacred.
Kindness and gentleness are the way.
To read more about Waldorf education:
*On another occasion I was at that same school for a weekly assembly, each week led by a different grade, for the whole school and for parents (and friends, like me).
The way that assemblies work in this school is that every adult and student who enters the hall takes a chair for herself from the stacked chairs outside, and when the assembly is over everyone returns her chair to the stack. I thought this was genius. So simple and so sensical. Instead of having a third party come and set up chairs ahead of time, you have every person take responsibility for herself.

Thursday, March 01, 2018

Sunday, February 25, 2018

Time, 2

How do different people perceive time?

Do some people fill their time with as much action as possible
So as not to waste one moment?
While others do nothing - 
so as not to waste one moment?

Do some ponder how to be in a constant state of presence
While others are in a constant state of future - 
And is there a difference between those two?
(And do some people not ponder one or the other - and if so, what do they ponder?)

Future is just a lengthened presence, after all. There is no future, essentially.
(That seems so sad to me, but becomes more and more apparent to me as I grow up.)

I personally catch myself choreographing and narrating most moments of my bodily configuration in the world, as they happen.

But moments of happiness, for me, are those moments in which I simply AM without too strict or tense of a choreography and narration - a moment of "AHA, THIS IS A MOMENT OF HAPPINESS."

It happens often - Oh, thank Goddess for that! I am so grateful for that!
And those moments of joy, or contentment, or pure presence, give me hope that not all of TIME will be noticed by me. That sometimes I will let it go without feeling the need to wonder about it.

I don't like wondering about it. Better to not know that soon everyone will die and that there's nothing to make our lives "larger" than what they are.

There is a lot of beauty in the world. If you take a moment to notice it.

And how do you perceive time?
What do you want to accomplish in life - and are you already doing it?
How often do you have moments that bring you sheer joy, and do you believe it is possible to increase the moments of joy?

Thursday, February 22, 2018


I kind of figured out that I need a lot of home-time throughout the week, a lot of time in my safe places, to resonate with my thoughts, to write, to read, to drink coffee, to stretch out (physically and emotionally), and that therefore I really do not soundly take upon myself full-time jobs. I work at part-time jobs because it allows me the freedom to get the home-time I need, hence to be free of anxiety involved in spending too many hours out of the house which has been a part of my life in the past. I am currently looking for more jobs just because I really do not have enough money to fly and visit my grandfathers in other states or let-alone to visit my family and friends overseas, but I am a little anxious about this endeavor, and hoping I can commit to only one month, just until I have enough money for those flights I need.

Only lately I've become exposed to the phenomenon of many people - artists and others - who work part-time for reasons similar to mine. I have never met anyone in the past who has posed this idea as a way they conduct their work schedule on purpose, and so I kind of felt at odd with working part-time when everyone around me knows that a full-time job is the "right" way to go.

But now I realize other people work part-time as well - especially here in Bellingham, where living is affordable compared to other places. Not because they have children they need to tend to, but because they want time for themselves. 


But this does raise another question to me: If I am spending quality time at home for my thoughts and art, why am I wasting so much time on facebook? Why am I not creating much art? What is still stopping me from going all-out and coloring my life with more creation? This is a good question, and I tend on pondering it for the next while, and on working on implementing more of the ideas in my head...

And the question above that, encompassing that one, is: What is the best way to live out my life, with the frightening realization that I am stuck in my body, with the scariness of realizing that life is just one?

Sunday, February 18, 2018


I love my dog. 
When I put my head right up to hers
there is no distance between my heart and her sweetness
and I find serenity in the closeness to her.
I listen to her heartbeat 
and watch her breathe, And pet her fur, 
as each strand of fur comes out so miraculously from her skin 
and covers and warms her body. Her body goes loose with trust 
when she is sleeping, and her four sweet paws lay calmly 
on the blanket, with those little soft cushions at the bottoms of them. 
And her little black nosey
And her floppy ears
And those little dreadlocks of fur between her eyes
Going in every-which direction
But she doesn't care.
I love her so much. It is possibly the most unconditional 
and compassionate love that I have for any living being. 
I don't want anything bad to ever happen to her.
I want her to always feel safe and content.

Thursday, February 15, 2018


Some thoughts

War / sexual assault / conquer / power / patriarchy / masculine governance and rule

Sarah Sanders was asked about Trump's idea of having a military parade in a press briefing at the White House this past week, and she replied that Trump is exploring ways to show pride, support and honor for the military, "the people who have served and sacrificed, to allow us the freedoms we have."

I wonder. Is this age-old notion true? Are wars and fallen soldiers in fact the sole impelors of the freedoms we have, as conservatives believe? Or have there been/can there be more sustainable and humane ways in play to cultivate peace between nations and to grant freedoms to people? Why do we continue to praise war, and to conduct war (and then praise the fallen soldiers who have died in the name of the holy war we sent them off to)? Or - a better question is - why are we still ruled by patriarchal power-thirsty people? Why are we still ruled by men? When will the feminine side have a say in national and international affairs? When will we overcome the poisonous patriarchy that still runs our countries?

Wednesday, February 07, 2018


I'm learning so much and it's joyfully overwhelming.
I haven't got a single way to write about all of it.
That's why I need to spend more time with my new friend C'elle, practicing writing, in that spot in the forest.
That's why I need to just start somewhere, right here, with the simple things:
I'm sitting in front of the computer screen, Tal is talking to his brother on the phone, Nemo is asleep on her favorite armchair, my knee is humming as it jumps up and down tensely because of the words flowing between my brain and the tips of my toes trying to find a way out.
I'm learning so much -- I'd love to share it all.

I drink coffee in the morning and joy fills me.
I walk along the streets of Bellingham and joy fills me.

Moments of inspiration are amorphic, untouchable,
So delicate, so encompassing,
So full and so joyful,
And their vastness makes them almost illusive
Makes them unholdable

Except for the little end-tails
The exclamation marks at the end
The aftertaste of a sweet dream.

I feel the touchable things around me
And that's all I can possibly write about:

The coffee, the streets, the outline of an experience larger than the sum of its components,
full of exploration, illumination, realization, love.

Wednesday, January 31, 2018

Tiny Houses

I love Tiny Houses. I want to design the Tiny House we'll live in one day. I don't know if you know this but I have an interest in architecture and interior design. In my high school days I used to sit in class and sketch out blueprints of houses. I stopped at some point and hadn't designed any more houses for years, but recently, when I was on the plane back home to Seattle from my visit in Israel, an idea for a home popped into my head and I sketched it out on paper, the same way I used to do over a decade earlier.

We already got to live in a minivan for a few months, and now we're in a sweet studio apartment, and someday I want a Tiny House on wheels.

Anyway, here are a few photos of Tiny House inspirations:

Tuesday, January 30, 2018

The posts that I write reflect specific emotions I felt at the specific time of writing the post. Often I later reread posts and don't relate to the feelings, the wording, or the significance of the posts in general. In all the years of writing on my blog, I have essentially believed that by writing down different parts of me, eventually I'd get a whole picture. That never seems to formulate, though, since there is always more to tell, there are always many more emotions, speculations and understandings that I did not write down. Sometimes it seems that the better part of me is still in my head, even after spilling hundreds of thousands of words out in this virtual intimate diary. I wonder if the beauty, wonder, self-admiration and attempts of self-discovery and self-redemption ever pervade. I wonder if I am and always will be my number-one fan, and you know what, I guess that's fine.

Tuesday, January 23, 2018

Beautiful Things

I had an incredible birthday, abundant with the lovingkindness of the people I've met here in Bellingham. Without knowing what to do with all the gratitude, I made a little video with snippets of beautiful things I've videoed in the past two years, including me making my first steps on guitar about a year ago:

Cards and gifts from the sweet kindergartners I teach

Sunday, January 14, 2018

This January has been amazing

I'm so excited
Not really from anything specific
I guess just from all the specifics together.

We live in this amazing amazing city
I don't know how to define it well enough
But I'm just writing this so that later I'll remember
How wonderful Bellingham is for us.

And also happiness is so fragile
So I'm scared to pop it with these humongous words,
But I felt like I shouldn't forsake or underestimate
it, either. 
So here it is.
The greatness of happiness.

Saturday, January 06, 2018

Here and There

"The thing about dreams is that when I look at the dream - when I aspire to be somewhere - I am an observer. But then when I get there, it's me there. I just walked -- from here to there," and I get up from the wooden chair behind the small round table and walk to the side of the room. "I'm still here. It's still me."
I sit back down. I jot down the idea on the napkin in front of me. The napkin also has musical notes and my friend's name, and two spectrums, to try to understand if "connection" (closeness, intimacy, feeling good with someone) and "dependence" (the inability to see yourself without someone, the need of the person in order to feel good) are two separate issues or if one is the extreme of the other, in relationships.
The warm tea arrives.
Halitatea, it's called. The name of the tea house.
In the center of Jerusalem.

"I say 'wow, that life looks amazing'. But when I get there, it's literally me there. I really cannot escape myself. And in that sense, there is no 'over there'. There is no dream - once I enter it, it is life, it is me, still struggling, still functioning from behind two eyes. Jealousy of other people's lives or of dream-lives (or even just the desire to be somewhere else) derives from the notion that this will not always be the case. That I will in fact be able to go 'over there' without bringing myself with me."

I'm feeling so much gratitude.

Friday, January 05, 2018

A meditation


I sit comfortably

I relax my muscles,

Starting from the tip of my head

Until the tip of my toes

I relax my jaw muscles

The muscles between my eyebrows

My shoulders

My knees

I sit with my back straight, so that my chest and neck are open

My legs are folded

I take deep breaths

When words come through my mind

To tell me what I'm doing

Or to fill me with dread or other emotions

I intentionally wash them away

I wash away the words

With the river of my being

The current keeps going, flowing

I watch my emotions as they come and go

I watch them, I am not them.

They come and go, they wash away

The river keeps going

I breath



I listen to my breath

I listen to the sounds around me

I breath

With each inhale I welcome the air into my stomach

I bring oxygen and energy into every part of me

With each exhale I gently let the air out

I listen

I breath

Words and thoughts are streams in the current

I don't let them linger

I don't struggle, either

I let everything loose

I breath.