Tag Archives: Jewish

Repeating the Ancient Tale

Events, Navel Gazing, Writing, , , , ,

On Saturday, my sweet daughter will be called to the Torah as a bat mitzvah. She will lead our community in ancient prayers and chant ancient words, and more importantly she will find her own meaning in them.

As Jews, our task is to wrestle with narrative–to preserve history, to reinterpret the past, and to write new stories that will carry us into the future. It’s a tradition that resonates with me as a writer and as a person who has seen again and again the power of stories to change lives.

Also on Saturday, in a beautiful intersection of occurrences, my next novel, POINTE, CLAW, enters the world. Somehow it seems fitting that this book, which wrestles with the challenges girls and women face in our culture, is born alongside my daughter’s passage into adulthood in the Jewish community. It’s a fierce story and she is a fierce girl.

I hope you’ll understand that I’ll be focusing on my daughter this weekend. Book celebrations will follow later in the week. I’ll be posting a series of answers to questions posed by early readers of POINTE, CLAW–some serious, some goofy, some revelatory–also I’ll be sharing a mind-blowing review by a teen reader. Lots of book events to come in Los Angeles area, the Bay Area, Portland, and Seattle. Details here.

To close, I want to leave you with one of my favorite poems. (I honestly don’t know the author. It’s been attributed to multiple people.) I’ve shared it before. These are words I return to again and again. I offer them in love.

We are simply asked
to make gentle our bruised world
to be compassionate of all,
including oneself,
then in the time left over
to repeat the ancient tale
and go the way of God’s foolish ones.

This weekend we repeat the ancient tale and go forth to make gentle this bruised world. Join us.

 

When to say YES and when to say NO

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I’m a little over-extended.

My normal duties are already intense: writing books, supporting local creatives, taking care of my family, driving the kids to soccer, volunteering at school, and helping with Hebrew homework.

Yet in the past few months I’ve said “yes” to things that added to that load.  I agreed to spear-head the creation of a class project for our school auction, which led to many late nights and much worry about whether it would turn out right.  I agreed to co-host the 90-Second Newbery Film Festival tomorrow, which involves a comedy skit and song (way way way out of my comfort zone).  I agreed to co-write and act, along with my kids, in a Purim play for our synagogue, which added writing sessions and rehearsals to evenings already jammed with soccer practices.

Do I regret it?  NO.  I chose to do these things because I wanted to do them.  I thought they were important and fun.  I want to support my kids’ school.  I want to spread the love for marvelous middle grade books any way possible (even if it means singing).  I want my kids to feel like they are part of a vibrant Jewish community above and beyond going to services.

But…

Of course, there’s a but.  As these commitments wind down (Purim is on March 15th), I recognize that I’ll need to say NO for awhile.  I’ll need more downtime.  I’ll need to protect the space I need to write, to connect with my friends, and to take care of myself (sleeping, running, yoga, rock climbing).

I’ll also need to step-back and reassess my recurring commitments.  Have I struck the right balance between my writing, my volunteer work and my family?  Am I working on projects that further my professional goals?  Am I spending time with people who support me?  Are there ways that I can open up more space for the things that are most important to me?

I strive to put my time and energy into things that make me who I want to be.  The key to when to say YES and when to say NO is about knowing what I value not what others expect.

“We are our choices.”