Take only what you need
And let the rest flow downstream
Friday Greetings on Thursday,
I'm writing to you a day early as I'm taking the rest of the year off to unwind and replenish a bit. No travels for us, just downtime at home that I expect will entail cooking and baking (homemade cinnamon rolls, I'm coming for you), reading and napping, walking and eating, and spending time with some of my people.
Last weekend, I got a new tattoo. The word hallelujah in Hebrew now sits at the base of my neck, a reminder to myself to sing the praises of creation, every single day. This, too, is a practice, and felt like a fitting way to end the year. I wrote 11s about it, which you can read below.
I'm listening to MC Yogi's song "Practice Makes Progress" as I write to you. Reflecting back on recent conversations I've had with clients, I realize the lyrics capture the common theme:
"I let go of the outcome, stay focused on the process. Stay focused, stay focused."
That really is it. It's not that there's anything wrong or bad about having goals; on the contrary, knowing WHY you're showing up and perhaps also what you're aiming for really helps when it comes to the whole business of keeping going. The catch is that once you name it, you must give yourself to the unfolding. There's no other way, since wherever you are, there you are, to paraphrase Jon Kabat-Zinn.
Continuous learning is a way of life. It's a mindset, a perspective, and a practice. Sometimes, it's excruciating and we want to do anything and be anywhere but here. That, too, is part of it. Sometimes, it's silly and punchy and you just have to chalk it all up to absurdity. It's also breathtaking, subtle, and often seems like not much is happening. Then everything happens at once and you feel your footing slip and want to grab onto anything to stabilize yourself. This is when it's a good idea to stop everything and breathe.
You are doing great.
Seriously, read it again.
You are doing great!
I saw a meme the other day that said something about how there are millions of people out there right now caring. I loved it so much because it is true. And I know that you are one of those people. In this way, we are connected. We are out here caring. At the end of the day – and the end of year – what could matter more?
I invite you to take some time if you can to write down what you want to keep from 2022. Let the rest flow downstream. Then, as MC Yogi instructs us, let go of the outcome and stay focused on the process. And remember that you're not alone.
There are spots still open in two groups that begin in January.Read about them on my website and – if you are ready to devote time and space to a steady writing practice in the new year – sign up! (Note that the payments for these won't be processed until after the new year.) If you are wanting to work with me 1:1, drop me an email or schedule a 15-minute meet & greet.
Thank you for being on the other side of these words – and for being part of this beautiful community of writerly humans. I look forward to our ongoing connection in the new year.
See you then :)
Shabbat Shalom & love,
Jena
Going on a year and half of working virtually with Una and witnessing her writing evolve and her book take shape, I was positively overjoyed to get to meet up for an intensive in-person editing session this week. A work in progress is a thing of beauty.
In Other News...
Something I'm proud of this month is that I completed and submitted two manuscripts to two small publishers. Here's hoping for positive responses! Of course I will keep you posted.
And because I love sharing the process of these things with you all, here are the titles and short descriptions of each:
"Make These Days a Prayer: Reflections from a Jewish Life"
These personal essays explore the intersections of Jewish life, queerness, mindfulness, memory, and our current political landscape. All of my work carries the intention of bridging the spaces between the sacred and the mundane, where most of our lives take place. It is here I believe each of us can have the most impact on this beautiful and broken world, and it is my hope that the pieces in this collection – and the collection as a whole – will inspire a sense of courage and hope in readers.
"God Is Not Perfect: Poems for the Days of Awe"
Having read many of these poems during Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur services over the past few years, I have experienced firsthand how poetry can deepen our experience of the Days of Awe. My hope is that this collection will become a beloved companion to the machzor, the prayerbook, and/or offer an alternative doorway to prayer for those who may not identify as "religious" yet still wish to experience the themes of the High Holy Days – return, forgiveness, imperfection, missing the mark, showing up, and beginning again.
11 things, hallelujah edition
1. Facebook memory pops up – a poem I wrote eight years ago. It has words like ache and longing and I see how I have spent so much of my time in those places. Bless my heart. I don't click share. This technology would have me recycle my days forever rather than live them.
2. New words now. Calm. Peace. Dare I say joy? I do. I dare.
3. To turn towards the light. The choice of this. Knowing I do not have to explain or defend – that, too, is language of the past.
4. Think too much. Worry too much. It will always be something if I'm stuck in that rut. Sweet thing, we're not doing that.
5. Instead, the turning towards. A client the other day quoted Andrea Gibson – something about running towards your life. And what if I don't have to run towards anything? What if I can simply drop my shoulders, unclench my jaw, and take in a big beautiful breath? Ah, that's better.
6. This was the drumbeat of my writing for so long – there is no other life. There is no better life. There is no life "out there" waiting for me. There is no life I should be living that is anything but this one.
7. I change the channel. Hallelujah. "The word psalm in English sounds a little bit like the word 'solemn.' But this final psalm reminds us that prayer can and should transcend that which is stone-faced and serious. Prayer, in ancient times and today, can be joyous. It can be musical. And crucially, if Psalm 150 teaches us anything, it’s that prayer can be loud and boisterous without being any less sacred." – Lex Rofeberg
8. Pause. Put the drum aside. Look up. Start the day with praise.
9. I look up at the pothos in the clay pot, perched on the corner of the piano. How its leaves spring from the soil, alert and alive. How they turn towards the sunroom, even in this half-lit season.
10. Be the pothos! Be the pause! When we smile, our brains don't know if we "mean" it or not. So why not smile? Crinkle, crinkle.
11. Thankful for coffee, Shabbat, silliness, snoring dogs, potable water, twinkle lights, ink, music, the body as instrument, connection, little birds, breadcrumbs, connecting the dots, looking forward. The penguins in my dream last night. Waddle, waddle. The way things deepen over time. What happens when you keep going.
Last Word
"Jena, as promptress and directress, you lead, guide and encourage through thoughtful observation and comments. And each participant is also a teacher."
~ Sharon Templeton, participant in the 2022 Sound of Real Life Happening group
"Make These Days a Prayer: Reflections from a Jewish Life" 
