Where, oh where can my muse be?

I know, I know, long time no write.  For that I apologize.  I hope none of my many, many loyal readers feel abused and betrayed (*sarcasm*).  But seriously, to the handful of you whom I know personally and who prompted me to continue blog writing, I am sorry I didn't hold up my end of the deal.

I have a number of excuses for not writing more.  I've been working a lot and though I've had the time I have not had the energy to write interesting, insightful blog entries.  I also feel I've temporarily run out of material, since working as a housekeeper in a hotel in a small town isn't necessarily the stuff of poetry.  It could be, I'm sure.  If I worked as hard at writing as I do at making minimum wage I'm sure I could make profound connections, but at the end of the day when I feel sluggish and lazy and can't seem to get the remnants of Spic-n-Span off my hands, such attempts at provocative thought are beyond me.

Another thing I've realized is that blogging can be scary.  When I was in Israel, I felt I was playing the role of teacher or explorer, revealing to my readers the mysteries of a foreign land without fear of being proven wrong.  I could easily write about my revelations and observations, even as a young woman, without feeling that my fully-adult readers would roll their eyes and scoff with a "Psh, I learned that years ago.  Big deal."  I somehow yearn to wow and introduce ideas rarely considered before, but as a student working a summer job in a small town, what new and creative ideas can I possibly suggest to the populace?  When I do learn lessons here and there - about friendship and love and work and the stuff of everyday life - what of it is of any interest to those who have already learned that lesson and graduated from that class of Life?  I don't much care for that feeling of pride when I "discover" something only to find out that someone else has already discovered it.  Not only that, but every person in every previous generation has already discovered it.  It is as if every other person who has already made my discovery chips away at my pride until I am just like everyone else at this stage in life.

Please excuse my blatant hubris, but I want to be special.

So, I've decided to put a pause on the blog until I can find something a little more interesting to write about.  This semester I'll be enrolled in a creative writing course which may give me some more material, and the semester following I'll be student teaching - loads of material there, I'm sure.  I've also just recently discovered the art of Spoken Word Poetry and I'm thinking of focusing a little more on my relatively insignificant collection of private writing so that maybe some day I can do something more with it.

It was short lived, but thank you to those of you who did read this blog.  Again, I'm sorry I wasn't a good blog-writer this time around, but I'll try harder next time.  I promise.

In the meantime, please enjoy these two videos of spoken word poetry artists, Shihan and Rudy Francisco.  Then look  up more of their stuff - you won't be disappointed :)

Pre-Shabbat Thoughts

Boy, this whole "blogging" thing is harder than it looks when you don't have outrageously interesting experiences on a weekly basis or have copious amounts of spare time and energy.  Hmm, maybe I'll need to rethink this a bit...

Loaves of Challah waiting patiently to be
blessed then devoured.

It's about 30 minutes before the official candle lighting time that marks the beginning of the Jewish Sabbath.  The challah is baked and ready to be ravenously consumed, and my mom has the rest of the meal simmering and baking in the kitchen, filling the room and the house with the comforting, savory scent of Shabbat.  Every home's Shabbat smell is different, but ours usually consists of challah, chicken, kugel, and soup.  It's as recognizable to me as early summer's lilacs or my dad's cologne (rarely used, but replete with associations nonetheless), smells that comfort and remind me of the simple necessities of home.

This will mark my fifth Shabbat at home since coming back from Israel, and I'm still trying to figure out how exactly to do it.  Shabbat is a lot of things - a religious commandment, a secession from work and the mundane, a day for family and rest - but most of all it is something personal and as such it is hard for me to blindly follow other people's rules for how to keep Shabbat.  I have a lot of questions to consider - should I work, and what constitutes as work?  Should I use the computer and the internet to keep in touch with friends  and risk wasting time doing meaningless and decidedly un-Shabbat-like things?  What should I do to sanctify the day without feeling as if I'm limiting myself from the simple things I truly enjoy?

Before I left for Israel I was careful not to use my computer or watch TV on Shabbat because of their associations with the stressors of the average weekday - news, advertisements, work and school-related e-mails, etc.  However, in Israel Shabbat took on an entirely new purpose because I didn't need it as a day to relax, since I spent most of the week doing nothing but relaxing.  As such, I gave myself more liberties and didn't abstain from as much.  In many ways, Shabbat lost much of its meaning for me, but I made up for it in other ways.

Since coming back it's been hard to adjust, especially since my experience in Israel helped me to develop spiritually.  Still, I'm faced with the same question: how do I make this day holy?

I'm sure it will take me a while to reach a sense of equilibrium and decide how I truly want to make this day my own personal day of rest, and I'm sure the moment I do I'll be back at school and it will all change again.  But I truly think it's important for all of us to search for the deepest personal meaning in any given situation, even if that means a little trial and error first.

Before I sign off for the day, I'd like to direct you to a beautifully-written article a fellow-blogger wrote at This Good Life.  In it, she describes what the Jewish Sabbath means in more global terms, and I highly recommend all of you - Jewish or agnostic, religious or secular - to read and consider her well thought-out words.

Shabbat Shalom!