Community

The moment I found Galit Breen‘s blog, These Little Waves, I sighed. I felt like I’d settled down into a soft leather chair and found a comfortable place. Delicious pictorial spreads paired with lush descriptive writing are Galit’s trademark, and I don’t think I have ever missed a post since I found her.

Today, Galit writes of online friendships. How we know each other in parts. How comments are so deeply received. I admire Galit for the woman I believe she is. The woman she shows to the world: even if it is a slightly edited version of herself.

If you haven’t yet stumbled upon These Little Waves, you need to. And Tweeps can follow her at @GalitBreen.

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Savor Each Word

I curl into my green chair by the light of the moon, and my laptop.

My two-handed key strokes (consistent teasing fodder for my husband, but my preferred method nonetheless) fill this space.

As much as I love the touch and the sound and even the smell of Motherhood, this Small Quiet is what I crave.

I click into my latest blog post, ready to devour its comments.

Love letters and responses to my writing wrapped neatly within your words.

“Oh me, too.” One soothes.

“You’ll be fine.” Another encourages.

“Your flexibility is amazing.” Says a third. And here, I falter.

I blush at this kindness because I know it doesn’t speak my Whole Truth.

I’m the Mom who enforces cleanups before movies, the one who brushes out every single snaggle despite LOUD protests, and the one who plants her feet deeply into aged carpet that has so very little Give in the face of Change.

So when, through my writing, I reveal a single moment where I embrace Life’s Flow puzzle pieced to the many (truly, many) times that leave me breathless and speechless and digging my toes deeper, and more firmly, in place – I falter.

I worry that what I’ve splayed is Unfair, Untrue, Un-me. And this is what stains my cheeks pink.

But here is what I’ve learned in the delicious time that I’ve been blogging: What we share is a slice of who we are, not the whole picture, and that’s okay.

All of our braids are woven in their own ways. My own is wisps of Going With The Flow edging the Flat Ironed Edges of my day-to-day.

Each one a piece of my puzzle and when shared with you, a piece of Our Story. Significant, in this unique way.

The gift of our online friendships lies within these shared moments. Me in my green chair and you in yours, separated by many miles but just a few heartstrings.

In our everyday lives, compliments are often brushed aside, pushed away.

But in our writing, we can pause this weathered habit, savor each word, and let it in as our own.

This, I (finally) know for sure. And so, I’ll start.

Renée, those words up there that had me shaking my head defiantly like my Israeli Mama taught me to, are yours. And I’m here to say – Thank you, truly. You lifted me with them.

Who have you lifted up today?

Tweet this Twit @rasjacobson

This year, our temple invited members from synagogues from all over the area to join in a huge community celebration. While rabbis and daddies manned the grills outside to make sure that the laws of kashrut were being observed,  students and parents enjoyed instrumental and vocal performances, saw their children dance to Israeli music, and act in little plays. Afterward, everyone spilled out to a buffet lunch on our first really gorgeous blue-sky, green-grass day.

Before the kids in this video went inside to perform, I asked permission to videotape them. They are clearly a tight bunch; performing together does that to people. When I asked one of the kids how he felt about the year coming to an end he said, “It’s been a great year. Once we understood and accepted everyone’s different personalities, we could just focus on working together to make something cool.”

So on that day, I served burgers, offering seeded and unseeded rolls (there were also hot dogs and vegetarian alternatives), and my son got a little recognition for having stellar attendance. It felt good to come together as a community. The youngest children played simple games (the kind that involve ping-pong balls and spoons and a lot of running) while older kids played tag, teenagers lounged in the courtyard, and adults stood and chatted nearby. A gentle breeze blew. Not a bad way to end May.

When is the last time you did something that touched your spirit?