Taking it "Bird by Bird"

In my former post I wrote about Anne Lamot and taking it "bird by bird."





I move slowly - try one little baby step on a time. Literally. Often I spend time mulling over words, sentences, thoughts. The library's a good place for that kind of introverted sort of research. It's a puzzling mystery, how words ever make it to the paper. They prefer to keep to their own microcosmic universe until I decide to let them free. Only lately, this hasn't been happening.





I can't believe I've taken a full year of sabbatical just to prove to myself that I can write a book: it sounds rather important and purposeful but, in reality, it's the hardest thing I've ever done. I'm a bit scared, guilty that I have all these waking hours of day to fill pieces of paper (or an empty computer screen in this case) and while I've unpacked thirty boxes, there are many more little cubicles of years of experience waiting to be opened.





This is the time when I need help. Or maybe just a few words of soul wisdom, or just somebody who's been there before and knows how to simply do good to others. So, I go now to my favorite writer: I have even gone so far as to try and imitate her style. Many writers starting out do. Let's hear it for Anne Lamott who always knows how to comfort a brave yet wavering writer soul in need.





But what I really need is to take my own advice and join a writer's group. Then I will feel better about all this.

Our First Shabbat Weekend

We're still sitting in a relatively bare apartment waiting for our overseas shipment to arrive.Started the crisp Sunday morning explaining to Ivry that today is Sunday and tomorrow is Labor Day and he doesn't go to the gan these two days. He ran to hug me once I had already settled comfortably with the laptop.

The apartment these days looks like we're going to fly again - probably back to Israel, at least that's what I was thinking when we left New York City. And of course September 2nd is here and I am nowhere near a teacher's bag and a classroom full of thirty eight students and exasperated looking teachers and probably students.

I'm on the other side of the world far far away with a cup of coffee, a small notebook for sketching ideas and writing goals and folders full of what I want to write for my book that maybe McGraw Hill will be interested in publishing - that is, if I can ever finish the chapter synopsis.

I have to educate myself constantly while going over broken sidewalks, waiting for traffic lights to change, watching people bag our groceries, deciding from the rows of cream cheese which one to buy, unsure what is the difference between diet and lowfat, or adding up the expenses of our purchases to realize there are only deductions.

The pieces of the puzzle somehow all start to make sense as I get used to the brick walls outside, the huge walk-in closet that contains our stuff, the pink walls of the bathroom that reminds me of my grandmother's apartment in Far-Rockaway in the 80's, storytime in Shenley park that is a both a semblance of community and culture. Then there are the Hassidic couples that remind me of the Jewish holdiays we spent in Queens, the three hairstyling shops on Murray Avenue, or the woman on the first floor who quickly opened her door when Ivry cried because the door closed abruptly on his poor little hand.

I have to educate myself emotionally when I see the trans-Atlantic move isn't all that bad despite the fact that I received a 'C' for transitions. The kind Rabbi Wasserman of Sha'aeri Torah congregation received many emails from kind souls offering to give us furniture. We're nowhere near to flying anywhere soon.

And then there's the issue of faith: some days I wake up with it and sometimes I don't. On the days when I do, I admire the Victorian windows and paisley window blinds and on the days I don't, I sweep by the flowers. I keep telling myself: Haim will find a job, I'll finish my book come the end of this year, we'll be settled, we'll be happy.

But the sky's too blue to think too much for a Sunday morning.

I Shouldn't Have Grown Up

Ivry and Haim took off for an evening stroll most likely to the synagogue while I sit next to the yellow flowers, which a kind neighbor passed on after hearing we were just one day in Squirrel Hill, Pittsburgh. It is the only real bright thing in this terribly empty apartment.

Exactly this time last year, I was contemplating new ideas for starting the school year not realizing I would end up taking a sabbatical that would bring me in touch with my roots and my writing. Now, we're taking it one step at a time and however right it is to be a mommy these days, and switch over to writing shoes, I've put the teaching bag aside and quietly, I am delving into the writing world.

With fortitude, a bit of fear, and some longing, I still write my way through. It's one thing to be saying I want to write, it's another thing to come all the way over here to write. (well, that's not the only reason) I take a break - speak to the nice people we're slowly becoming acquainted with, lunch with the local Rabbi and his family. I exit my shell temporarily, enjoy the unspoiled blue sky, hear the road construction across the street, sometimes pretend that I'm back in Israel in our small niche that now has taken the likeness of global territory.

It's an intimate process and yet, it's something the mind doesn't want to speak of.

I shouldn't have grown up too quickly to believe it might come true one day, but I'll slice each day as it comes, minute by minute - slowly believing this was meant to be.

It's a Dream Come True!

Back when I first started with the notion of writing a blog, I came up with Writertable for my writing blog remembering the wooden table with the four lion paws. My dream back in October was to write on a laptop in Greenwich Village on that table. Well, here I am with my brand new Toshiba laptop while my two male cuties (Hubby and Ivry) are somewhere walking along the Hudson River Park.

New York city at night. The sounds of construction of the new condo across the street in the day and the somewhat peace and quite watching the Hudson River from my bedroom window facing the New Jersey shore. Wow.

I'm so elated! This laptop is amazing and it has everything a writer at heart needs. I love the solid compatability and the easy accessiblity. This wireless Internet is just great. What was even hysterical was after purchasing the laptop, I felt I needed to go to the old library in Greenwich Village where I would do homework, research projects and read as a child, but this time I wanted to connect to the whole world from there!

I'm making history as the second one in my family to sit and do wireless Internet surfing. Since I grew up in a family of artists in a building known as Westbeth, this is the first connection to figuring out whether I belong in this niche of artists or not. Well, I have a whole year to decide that since I'm on sabbatical!

I hope you all are enjoying your summer wherever you are!