I didn’t have the first idea of how to manage being a single mom. Nor did I know how to raise my son alone in a Jewish community where everyone I knew was a couple.
For me, uncoupling from a cantorial family and going to a whole different synagogue was like learning to walk again. My son’s dad and I both agreed to raise our son Jewishly, but I had no idea what that would mean for me.
Photo: Annie Spratt on Unsplash
Every cell in my body said “no.” I was looking for the opposite — as in, someone who wasn’t living a conventional life, but an exciting one. What did that mean? An artistic, poetic soul. Someone who attracted me and lived adventurously. I didn’t necessarily know what that meant, but I was sure I’d know it when I saw it.
If you think this sounds more like a movie than an actual person, you would be right. But what else would you expect from a seventeen-year-old?
Photo by Ryan Franco on Unsplash
Performed tonight at Insomnia Salon, so I thought I'd include the poem I wrote. I was part of a collective that spent the year exploring dreams.
Photo by Clément Falize on Unsplash
We say it without thinking in
synagogues
As the liturgy nudges us in prayerbook Hebrew
You shall lie down and no one
shall terrify you
The words every one of us needs
to believe.
My own dreams bring familiar nightmares
Persistent visitors feeding on
fear, waiting to terrify
Once in a while, though, a good
one gets through
It recurs, holding back wind and
rain so I won’t be cold.
There is only warmth and a
feeling of belonging
What is that? Where is this
place?
When Jacob awoke beside a ladder
and the angels said
Climb! He knew where he was
going. Not so I.
Once in a while I find myself in
a river with a friend
I never see her face but know who
she is, hallelujah
The water welcomes us and I want
to stay forever
Is this what it means to have an
afterlife?
Dancing through a city square with cobblestones, brownstones
An ivy-covered bridge that leads over open water
Rippling as you cross it,
whispering sky-cloud songs
You should stay, it says, you
really do belong.
On nights when I dream these
invitations to serenity
I realize they are what I’m
always looking for God to say
You shall lie down and no one
shall terrify you.
You shall lie down. No one shall
terrify. No one.
Within a few minutes, two young men I had secret crushes on appeared at the door. We’d all been signed up for a summer program by our parents, and this was happening on one of the group’s five-day outings. The fact that I was wearing a dryer cap embarrassed me beyond words, so I stopped singing immediately.
But the guys — who also happened to be twins — were having none of that. “Was that you?” one asked. I yanked off the cap and replied. “Yeah.”
“Would you sing with us some time?” they asked, letting me know both of them played guitar.
I agreed, and that night, our singing evenings began. While there was no romantic involvement, as both guys were in relationships with two of my friends — I think, looking back on it, I found something better.
Photo by Devang Saklani on Unsplash
1. The talker is heard clearly by the guy next to her while they’re sleeping.
2. The talker is making complete sense about how she feels.
The truth is, most of us who talk in our sleep are making no sense whatsoever. (Some people can actually be understood, but I don’t think it’s a majority). My husband Pierce tells me what he hears is a mumbo-jumbo word salad, impossible to sort out. I wish I could speak brilliantly or come up with good dialogue or even let my guy know I love him, like the subject of The Romantics’ song does.
Instead, I make weird ghosty sounds, like a high-pitched, shaky “Hoo — ooo” sound in the Scooby Doo episodes that were popular in my guy’s childhood. Seriously, that is exactly how Pierce describes it. Nothing sexy there, let alone romantic. I can hardly bear to think of waking him up to this sound, though thankfully, he says it usually lasts less than a minute.
I’ve been trying to figure out what I might be dreaming about, to come up with sounds like these. I’m sure I must be having some sort of anxiety dream or nightmare, but what is it?
I hear the pre-boarding call announcement and see a woman getting up, slowly. Her carry-on bag looks larger than most, and I find myself comparing it to my own little backpack and rolling around in a carpet of self-righteousness. The carpet disappears when I see a white cane.
The woman walks toward me, feeling her way with nothing but the cane to guide her. She does not seem to be turning away, and I decide I’d better tell her how close she is to my knees. I try to sound casual and let her know where I am. I am wrestling with whether or not to ask if she needs help, because some people want you to do that, and others do not.
She instantly lets me know what she’s feeling, which is a relief. “Thank you,” she says. “Would you mind helping me get on the plane?”
Of course,” I say, feeling gratitude that she felt comfortable enough to ask for help. Writing this, I don’t want you to think I am still dragging that righteous carpet around. I know this woman would have helped me if I had asked for it. I know that most anyone reading this would as well.
I am sharing this moment because of what it gave me, not because of anything I did for someone else.
Read more on Medium.
Character actors typically don’t have what we think of as “movie star” looks, though they look much more interesting, in my view. Geoffrey Rush — an actor’s actor if ever there was one — is mesmerizing in films like Shine and The King’s Speech and everything else he’s done.
I also love seeing women character actors and wish there wasn’t such an unspoken emphasis on women’s looks in the entertainment business. If women who aren’t traditionally “pretty” do win big parts, they’re usually comedies at first. Is that because if you’re not beautiful, you’re supposed to be funny?
I don’t know, but one of the female actors that always inspired me is Meryl Streep. She doesn’t look like most versions of a model, but transcended typical Hollywood parts to become one of the most reknowned actors we’ve got. Other actors like Jodie Foster have leading lady looks, but deliberately shun roles that would emphasize that.
Thinking of character actors also made me think of my own plays and novels, and whether or not I write roles for them. I want to, certainly, but do I?
