Liberation from my personal Egypt Part IV

Monday night at the Sterns' wonderful Pesach Seder we went around the room taking turns reading the Haggadah-the story of Passover. When we reached the part about the 4 Sons: the wise son, the wicked son, the simple son, the son that does not know enough to ask, there was an added paragraph, which fell to me to read:  In this particular Haggadah, (a Chabad one) there is the addition of the 5th son: The Son Who Is Not There.  That's the son who chooses to stay away from the Seder table.  The son who self-exiles.  When I read the passage, I almost burst into tears.  I know I blurted out, "Wow, that's me!"

I believe that Life is a spiritual journey, not necessarily a observant religious one....even though I bless Shabbos candles, I am more culturally Jewish, I have serious barriers up to anything further.  Experience is the best teacher, and each time I've gone deeper in any of my spiritual pursuits-- and my spiritual path has taken me down many roads, from the Sikhs on Robertson doing yoga and helping the prayer services at the Sikh Temple, to Cape Town and hanging out with the Chabadniks there and here in LA--that road has been cast with hypocrites  searching for a way to exert power and control rather than nurture self discovery and faith in the Divine.

Plus, I am not a fan of organized religion.  Far from it.  I think the world needs a good dose of John Lennon.  The endless wars and killings and crimes against each other, especially women, have made me run in the opposite direction from anyone who would have the chutzpah to tell me what they think God wants from me--and being gay, my journey to be at peace with myself on this issue is not something I would ever want to repeat.  In fact womens' sexual relationships with each other are not even mentioned in the 613 laws or in Leviticus or anywhere.  Yep, another place where we don't count in the religion as much as men.

But lately, at this spiritual place--Judaism newly combined with Taoism--need that promised Zen peacefulness--- with just enough Wicca to believe in the Divine Feminine as savior to the world, I've felt I am just hanging out until I gather the strength to move on again.  Kind of comfortable in my doubts, but in reality not at peace spiritually, and therefore, not at peace at all.

There is something missing and I feel the absence so keenly there is this restlessness and emptiness where that sense of belonging should be.  I've tried to find my footing on my spiritual path over and over again, and again and again, I stumble.  And I love ritual, it makes me feel grounded and elevated at the same time, and yet I purposely don't partake.

These past few Pesachs I have not even kept the week, in fact, I've broken it with a vengeance, throwing a religious tantrum, eating a bacon cheese burger as soon as possible...and then the spiritual stomach ache comes along with that inner sadness that I've given up on myself.  Not necessarily that God is disappointed, (but, being really honest, that is in there too, hoping that you count enough on the spiritual plane to warrant that reaction).

So, this Pesach, for no other reason than believing it so necessary this time for reasons I don't even know yet, I am going to keep the week without wheat.

What I know for sure is the result of this spiritual laziness is I lost a lot of the faith I had before in the Divine Plan. I could let go then, not grip the steering wheel so tightly, but lately, I trapped myself into believing that I am the one fully in control of my life, my parents lives, and all sorts of circumstances around me.  Not consciously, but subconsciously, I've been spiritually at odds lately with really believing that there is a higher power, a universal force, and that has caused me to ignore my soul's whispers for the past few years.

So this is part of my liberation from my personal Egypt.  For it's only when you have faith in the godliness in your soul at all that you get quiet enough to listen and find your Path.

Liberation from my personal Egypt Part III

Okay this one is no surprise, least of all to me (and God love my inner circle of friends for gently trying to call me on it) and I am loath to admit it, but, this is about really being free, so here goes:

I use being the caretaker to my parents to avoid risking whether or not I would really succeed or fail pursuing my goals.

Yeah, ME, who's favorite phrase to others so often is "The cross is rented".  Well, hell, I am nothing if not a first class hypocrite sometimes.

But this Martyr thing is not as black and white as it seems, though, because I am indeed the daughter that is here, the one able to handle the things my sister is afraid of, even if she were on this side of the US.  I am the one who's in charge of all the STUFF, including those emergency room visits and checking in every day, all the practical things, etc. etc. etc. etc.........

But, the truth of it is, I have been much safer complaining that my life is on hold than actually doing something about it.  Okay I felt that, deep in my gut like the punch that knocks the breath out of you.

It's easy to fall into this...too easy, when the lines are blurred as to what really is necessary and what is rescuing them when they can take care of it themselves.

A year ago when I had to have my right ankle rebuilt and I was not able to go run after them for the 8 weeks I had to stay off my foot,  I affected a paradigm shift that actually led to me letting go enough to feel semi-free to go to Israel for a couple of weeks over the summer, to look at pursuing an overseas Phd, to a lot of things that in the past 6 years of care taking, I would not dare take seriously.  But then, I fell back into my old routine....kind of like that wet diaper that is more comfortable than a fresh, albeit scratchy, new dry one.

It's easy to not risk pursuit-of-own-desires-and-goals-failure, especially when you're doing the Noble Dance--which goes something like this---two steps towards your own life, then run like hell back to whatever obligation you can find to avoid going further.  Plus outsiders see you as so incredibly giving, sacrificing and loving, the mileage from the affirming comments from outsiders, even other family members is a priceless warm fuzzy.  You get love when you fall on the cross, when you bitch everyone understands the stress you are under--except for those bastards who have the nerve to actually suggest you DO something about it.  Who needs solutions?  I'm happy in my double M, Martyr-Misery.

Except that I'm not.  I never was.  It was convenient to take a pass on living that life with a larger purpose, and admitting this now to myself hurts in my cells, but finally I can let this insidious illusion go.   I was lying to myself thinking that what I was doing here staying small was more important and noble than the one thing that has ALWAYS mattered to me more than anything, or, for that matter, anyone: making a difference in this world on a global scale, pursuing my goals and dreams, and actually achieving them.

I have always believed that everything that happens in life is to guide you to the purpose for which you are born, and all of my Neshama Safari has been to find it.  It's ignoring that call of your soul that enslaves you, and now that I am free, I am answering Hineni.  Here I am.

Liberation from my personal Egypt Part II: WEW.LA

I finally posted some of my professional photojournalism work on line.  I've been making photographs since I was 14 years old, and now I'm 52.  That's a helluva lot of images.  I've worked for the Associated Press, the Los Angeles Times and gone overseas for International Medical Corps to photograph their war zone work in Somalia, Southern Sudan and Rwanda.  And I've just found it in me to value what I have to say with a camera enough to post some photos on my Facebook profile.  http://www.facebook.com/album.php?aid=202657&id=754231154  Yeah.  I know.  Just this past weekend.

A few years ago I bought a film scanner and my own domain name with the intent to create a website of my work, and enough Leica gear to do the more quiet, introspective projects I've been putting on hold.  A couple of weeks ago I bought a Leica M9,  allegedly the supreme act of confidence and faith in my own talent, desire and commitment to telling those stories.  Yeah, well, sort of.

It says a lot about an artist when he or she finally believes in their value, the power of their message, and I can tell you, through a lot of scotch and tears stained dark nights of the soul, you don't ever get there alone.

I got there, finally, just now, because of Illana Shoshan,  Dr. Galit Dayan, and Meirav Oz.  I am blessed enough to be a part of Illana's organization, WEW.LA   She has pulled together these two phenomenal Israeli women and for the past two weeks, all three have worked tirelessly to empower other women to believe in themselves, to reach for their dreams and to market themselves with the confidence it takes to succeed.

I've been photographing and videotaping their empowerment seminars, from San Diego to Orange County to Beverly Hills to West Hollywood to the San Fernando Valley (missed an amazing one in San Francisco) and heard their presentations in Hebrew and in English around a half a dozen times, and even though that kind of elusive confidence does not necessarily transmit through just listening, their presentation was so incredibly powerful, it did.

Listening to Meirav tell her personal story of how she followed her dream of publishing her first novel, "One Wrong Move" and personally, through her own marketing campaign, made it a terrific success is nothing short of inspiring. Her marketing strategy, done on literally no "real" money, but when added to that incredibly overlooked intangible source- creative and networking generated funding- is pure genius.

Listening to Dr. Galit Dayan, a brilliant Egyptologist who re-invented herself to be an organizational management consultant to the top companies in Israel, speak candidly how she combines being a Mom and being the wife of a diplomat moving around the world every few years with her own business success gives perspective to the balance: I don't have a husband or kids, but I am caregiver to my parents and have many other stresses governing my life,  ones that I've allowed to take me away from my goals and dreams, always taunting me to give up on myself. 

Most of all,  the visionary force behind this empowerment mission is Illana Shoshan.  http://www.illanashoshan.com/ Elected Miss Israel 1980 and now, because of her dedication and single mindedness to the economic and educational empowerment not just for Jewish and Arab women in Israel, but for all women no matter who or where they are, Illana's just been elected Israel's Queen of Beauty for all time.  It's an understatement that she is beautiful inside and out, but truthfully I don't think the title does her justice.

Most traditional definitions of beauty don't include qualities like the selflessness, incredible courage, creative intelligence, strength, passion, guts, stamina, sacrifice,  focus, fearlessness and pure love required to take on a cause like this.  Listening to Illana speak about how important it is for women to be economically able to take care of themselves and their children, to be respected, to be equal in every way, to be able to educationally compete in the workplace, there is no mistaking her purpose. http://www.illanashoshan.com/blog/wew-mission-statement/

Photographs are little points of darkness illuminated by light, and I've always believed women are the bearers of that light....Illana, Galit and Meirav are definitely the bearers of those torches. They help light the way for all of us to liberate ourselves from our personal Egypts.

Liberation from my personal Egypt...Part I

So here it is the Shabbat before Pesach, the holiday of the Ultimate Liberation and I so desperately need and want to be finally, truly free from so much that all I can think of is Oh My God, Where To Begin?  A new friend who's very wise in the Kabbalic  significance of Passover told me that the impact of the intent lasts for the entire year.  Great.  No pressure. 

More than ever before I feel like my entire future (and may I live to 120 yrs) happiness, my inner peace all rest upon my freeing myself from this emotional and spiritual rollercoaster I've been on for so long.  And to make it even more intense, I am more emotionally raw, more exhausted than ever before.  Seriously.  Ever.  With my father's impending death, along with the sudden passing of Ralph Purdum, a truly amazing and much loved friend of my family at the age of 46, I feel like I am skidding on the handrails of a massive grief crash. 

I am so much in the moment handling everything for my parents, all the details, that I have not allowed myself to really sob--except for when Beethoven's Violin Concerto happens on the radio--- for such a long time as my Dad's days now pass slowly, excruciatingly, into night. Each day I am in the thick of it trying to at least make sure decisions are made now to somehow make it easier for both my Dad and my Mom to bear.

And so I hold back me.  It's what I do, it's what I've always done--there was no room to need nurturing as a child--- and it's only what I know and it's what I need to let go now if I am to be truly liberated from my personal Egypt, my tyranny of my self constructed "Shoulds" of how I should or should not be.

My fear of being fully, gloriously, emotionally human is the capitol city of my Egypt. (And of course I know the main river, of tears in this case, really is called Denial.) I am not comfortable with ALL of me, especially the part that has needs.  The part that is needy sometimes. The part that is vulnerable. The part of me that hurts so badly right now and desperately needs to be held while I cry and slobber over someone's shirt as I wail and let all this go.

So, instead I become defensive, sarcastic, snarky and way too macho for even my faux Xena stance.  My walls go up and I do my best to drive people away lest they find out that I'm a really strong but  also fragile woman.  I know I give off that strong woman vibe, that Knight that rescues, and that's truly, a really accurate and good part of who I am, but I am also gloriously infuriatingly human, and that's the part that needs to run into the Red Sea as it parts (or doesn't) without fear of drowning in the crashing waves of my own tears.

On Loss

I've had way too many conversations about death these past few weeks, and news yesterday that a family friend passed away at the age of 46 just has made my emotions tail spin.  I don't mind admitting that I am terrified of dying, I always think I can save myself in the nick of time.  I simply have too much to do to leave this place. And yes, writing this I am creeping myself out, like it will be some ironic morbid obit or something because my hypochondriac self is feeling pain in my left arm (it's the pinched nerves in my neck, not my heart), and because things like this always happen. 

But the reality that is haunting me  is that most lives are lives not really lived.   I always feel like I am not really living mine.  I am afraid that I will not accomplish all my goals, and being focused on that a lot of the time stops me in my tracks.  Hence my fear.

The conversations I've had about death have been intense, mostly they revolve around walking my Mom and the caregivers through the various scenarios of what will happen when my Dad's dialysis catheter finally quits, and he runs out of options.  I don't want a decision made in the emotion of that moment, and so I am doing my best as the one in charge (The One in Charge is God) to avoid it.