tikkun olam and the new year

 I, more often than not, have trouble on Yom Kippur staying focussed.  I like the ceremony of Kol Nidre on the evening of the holiday and almost never miss it.  In the morning I have more success than later in the day staying with the goals of the day.  But the holiday is a fast day so by the time early afternoon comes, I am often dwelling on how long it will be before I can eat.

Often what helps is that I am in a book. When I am in a book I will spend time in the afternoon reading whatever it is that I am reading. Reading helps me think. While a novel is not prescribed on Yom Kippur (probably is forbidden) it does good things for me beyond filling up hours. I'll read something and that triggers a thought and before I know it I'm engaged in some introspection.  A problem this year is that I am not in a book presently.  And, of course, to make things more difficult there are no synagogues open.  I did later in the day watch services from both Buffalo and Cincinnati which were excellent.  These were Reform services with much in English so that made it more valuable to me.  Besides the English, the services were well thought out and likely more choreographed than they would otherwise be. I found the readings very meaningful, especially the end of the Neilah service in Cincinnati.

Around mid day, well before I travelled by computer to Buffalo or Cincinnati,  I played a dvd I had taken from the library.  Around twenty years ago I read what is one of the top twenty, maybe top ten, books I've ever read, American Pastoral by Philip Roth.  I found out around a month ago that there was a movie made of the book, so I borrowed it from the Waltham public library.  And around noon I watched American Pastoral. (A shout out to the Waltham public library--the people there during this pandemic are trying very hard to provide books for the community in a safe way.  Very pleasant and helpful under what are trying conditions).

If you want to read the book or see the film you might want to skip this and the next paragraph.  A young man named Seymour Levov is nearly perfect.  Handsome, intelligent, considerate, and an outstanding athlete.  He is a high school hero, goes off to fight in World War II with the Marines and returns healthy.  He falls in love with a woman who is intelligent, considerate, from humble beginnings and beautiful.  She represented the state of New Jersey in the Miss America pageant. Theirs is a perfect match.  He inherits his father's glove factory and considerately manages the facility being kind, as his father was, to the workers. The business is successful. The couple buys a beautiful home in the country. They are wonderful beautiful people. 

However, they have a child who becomes a revolutionary and maniacal in her activities.  The child leaves home after a bombing and the parents fear their daughter might have planted the bomb which killed a neighbor.  The couple is emotionally ripped open because of the events.  The book/movie describes how these actions by the daughter and her disappearance--which were not brought on by parental negligence--destroy two wonderful people.

It was a good movie to see on Yom Kippur, a day of atonement.  Jews are taught to practice tikkun olam--not only to look within and clean up the debris that accrues in our souls, but to look at our society and work toward making our world better.  But sometimes it does not work. Sometimes you can be a wonderful soul and be socially conscious and practice Tikkun Olam as a matter of course, but some things happen. There is an impediment of someone else's making that gets in your way.  Often times the impediments that appear to be of someone else's making are self created, but in the case of Mr and Mrs. New Jersey, something out of their control affected their lives.

It's a test.  Cleaning out the debris that you've accrued, and working towards repairing the world (tikkun olam).  My take aways today, at three score and ten pushing three score and eleven, are these: sometime the debris that you think someone else created is stuff you've created; regardless of the crud in your system and the crud surrounding us, it is our job to work and work to make it better.  And if we think we have problems, maybe we should consider what happened to Seymour Levov.  

And now, as the sun sets, I am ready to eat. Whatever is being made downstairs smells heavenly.

Happy new year.  Apples, and honey, and joy to all.

Rumpology

 I read this morning the obituary for Sylvester Stallone's mother.  She was, if the obituary is accurate, a remarkable entrepreneur who engaged in various activities some of which were way ahead of her time.  She invested in a gym in the 50s just for women, for example.  How many "health clubs" beyond Vic Tanny's existed in the 50s.  She became a successful astrologer, but had--toward the end of her life a new technique for predicting the future. She would explore the lines of one's buttocks to learn about what was forthcoming and advise her clients.  Ms. Stallone called this approach rumpology and at the end of her life was still active as a rumpologist charging customers 300 dollars a cheek for her wisdom.

My libido is down these days from my college years, but I wouldn't mind a stint as a rumpologist--assuming I could filter the clientele to some extent.  I imagine that otherwise the job might be less than pleasant. Plus, I have doubts about what one could learn from such explorations that could predict the future. "You have lovers in your future" "You should quit your sedentary job"; "more rigorous hygiene would improve your chances for romance."

Rumpology. Ah, America. What's the office slogan?  "Have no fears. No bum steers."

Still the obituary set me to thinking about next steps. Ms. Stallone, starting at 15, tried this activity or that--always staying active.  I write textbooks and teach courses about Communication.  I like my work; think I am good at it; have had better than average reviews for my efforts; and can get immersed in a writing project which is at once all consuming and energizing.  Yet, I've been doing it for some time.  Maybe it is time to start exploring.

What may have fueled my thoughts about next steps is that I was told on a weekly zoom call that an old college girlfriend of mine passed in March.  Our stint as sweethearts was only a couple of months long, but I did bump into her coincidentally at a party a decade after graduation and we had fun for a day reminiscing and cavorting around the campus.  I was stunned by the news. I could barely recognize her in the obituary that I unearthed, but reading it made me think about this precious thing we have called time and life.

I will not, no matter what, go into rumpology as an entrepreneurial endeavor.  But it might be fun to explore other rides before the amusement park closes.    

Insidious Cancer

 In four years the fabric of this country has changed. 

Four years ago lawmakers asserted, aggressively, that a supreme court justice should not be replaced during an election year. Now, the same lawmakers are asserting, aggressively, that they have the right and will attempt to replace a supreme court justice during an election year.

That we have a group of lawmakers who are unethical is clear. That we have a citizenry that supports such amoral behavior indicates how the fabric of our country is shredding and has shredded.

People who had, at least superficially, spoken about patriotism, moral values, and integrity have now abandoned these platforms.  Honesty means nothing to over 40 percent of the population. The president of the country is honest about how honesty is irrelevant to him. And yet in many states the majority of people support the president.

And the toxicity seeps into our culture and distorts what the United States claims to stand for.  Even in so called blue states there is evidence of amorality spreading like an insidious cancer.

Good lasagna

 I went to send a note to my brother to wish him a happy new year.  In Hebrew, you wish a happy new year by saying or writing, l'shana tova.  Tova means good. Shana means year.

So, I typed l'shana tova into my phone. The spell checker changed l'shana into lasagna.  

Okay, so, good lasagna to all.

Rosh ha shana means-- new year.  Literally, the head of the year.  Rosh = head. Ha=the. Shana again year.  

The holiday begins a ten day period of introspection.  A time for people to assess how well or how poorly we are doing morally and ethically.  And a time to pledge to work toward being the best we can be.  

Often the holiday begins with a big meal.  And often the meaning of the holiday is lost because the food consumption becomes more significant than the reason for consuming in this way.  I'm as much a miscreant as the next person.  The holiday began last night and we had a big meal and I read some parts from a book I like related to the holiday. Yet, just this morning I became furious at city hall about something inconsequential.  I hissed venom at the Republican party for not waiting for a supreme court justice's body to be cold, before trying to rush in a replacement.   And other stuff crept into my head that was not conducive to a healthy reassessment of where I am at.

It's work to examine oneself.  And work toward making the new year a happy one.  Good lasagna.