Wednesday, October 29, 2008

of soul, of essence, and talents.

Sometimes I have to remind myself of who I am.

Ye... I know.
I'm chaya mushka.
That's not my problem.

I sometimes mix up WHAT i am with WHO.

I have to remind myself that I am a mere person with responsibility, capability, personality and talent.

But what more?

Sometimes I think I'm funny.
So I act that way.
And everyone says 'Wow, your're funny!"

Sometimes I think I'm cute
So I act that way.
And people say "mmmmm... I wanna eat/ squish, kush/mwwwwwwa you up!"

Sometimes I think I'm responsible.
So I act that way.
And people say "Wow. You really have your priorities straight!"

Sometimes I think I'm cool
So I act that way.
People don't say anything, cuz after all nobody really cares if you're cool or not. Just on of those things that totally don't matter.

Sometimes i think I'm inspirational
So I act that way.
And people say "takeh a rebbetzin..."

Sometimes I think I'm brave
So I act that way.
And people say "Sheesh! I thought that you're a fraid of dogs!" --uh... I am...

Sometimes I think I'm smart
So I act that way.
And people have lots to say and ask.

Sometimes I think I'm studious
So I act that way.
And people say "Hey. I like your glasses and pigtails and that apple looks scrumptious..."

Sometimes I think I'm fun
So I act that way.
So people scream


Sometimes I think psychological
So I act that way.
And people speak. But I don't hear. Instead I interpret every word they say and analyze their character and personalities.

Sometimes I think I'm artsy
So I act that way.
So people say "any news from Greenwhich Village??"

Sometimes I think I'm busy
So I act that way.
So people say " Don't you ever eat dinner with your family?"


Idont know how many of you listen to Lipa, but there's one song I was just listening to, titled "A Poshiter Yid". Despite my terrible yiddish vocabulary, I managed to catch on to the line: "Ich bin Lipe, ich bin nisht dee groyste, ober ich vill tzu zayn meine beste."

Meaning: "I am lipa, I am not great, but I strive to be the best I could be."

Like that good 'ole Reb Zushe story: Reb Zushe Meanipoli said: "After 120 years and I go to shamayim, they're not going to ask me why I wasn't like Moshe , Aharon or the
Avos. They're going to ask me why I wasn't Zushe."


So that leaves me with a question.

What am I so that I can be the best me??
My essence is calling, but I can't pinpoint from where I hear the sound.
Its voice echoes yet again. I search even more.
Not for WHAT I am, but for WHO I am. For identity. I'm not funny, artsy, cute, studious, smart, psychological, brave, inspirational, cool, or responsible. I'm something deeper. that's just the surface.

Often times we search for our essence. But what is our essence?? Does it really exist?? If so, how do we know what it is so that we can strive to be what were meant to??

Maybe. Just maybe. Its not that. It says (I think in Tanya) that one should never be satisfied with himself, his behavior and middos.

I think I understand. My essence is made up of those traits on the surface. Artsy, funny, studious, etc. make up my essence. So do middos.
So I think I know what to strive for: in order to find and ignite my essence and realize who I am, I have to put together WHAT I am. Throw in the match and ignite the fire.
Just keep striving to do my best learning from others.

And then, I'll truly be "Chaya Mushka "

ditch

ok...
so im ditching.
ya really.

for the first time ever.

and then never.

because i think ditching is dumb.
unless, that is, if you go shopping....;)

but i ain t doin that now, so till then.........

ditching is dumb.

Sunday, October 26, 2008

Diet starts Tommorow :)

"This starts as of tommorow" my nutritionist said as he handed me my customized eating plan for the next three weeks. i smiled casually, bade my farewell, and left the little office.

Reality didnt hit me till later. OMG!!
you mean no more pizza??!!?? never?? never never ever? ??

NO WAY!!

and no more ketchup, or french fries or java lattes or potato chips or buncho bagels or ice cream or donuts or baked ziti or hot dogs or cream cheese or chocolate milk or string cheese or soda or coffee or danishes or salsa and chips or cake or plain good 'ole bread ?? ? ?? ?





i came to my senses!

this means that i have precisely 18 hours to fill up before breakfast tommorow morning.

i quickly ran for the nearest kosher restaurant and ordered a king size baked ziti. With fork in my right hand and knife in the other, i sat ready, my mouth watering, ready to dig in.

after all... i just have till tommorow...

and after that... no more. not even for cheats.



Tommorow. Tommorow. The word is bittersweet.

Close this chapter, only to begin another.

my last chance. still counting down the minutes till tommorow.



until then... Im taking advantage.... ;)

Thursday, October 23, 2008

2 stocking stories.

STORY #1



ZSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSZIPPP>>

this was the sound my stockings made as they were ripped in half.

i guess G-d decided that the perfect time for me to get a run was in the midst of a farby in 770 , while i was half sitting, half falling on the ledge of a bench with 50 israelis hovering over my head. REALLY PERFECT TIMING!
oh well...
i ran out of 770, missing The only havdala of the year where its made in the sukkah With a fire.
The only one.
and i missed it. all because of a run in my stockings, created by a nail sticking out of a bench.

Story #2

so here i am walking up Kingston, 20 minutes late to hakafos. Spaced out and in my own world, i am suddenly brought to reality when i trip over a brick sticking out on the sidewalk.

ouch!
my knees are aching. but what is worse is that i fell flat on my face in fron of a group of 20 Israeli bochurim who, really being kind at heart, ran to my aid, which is so univited at the moment. i pick myself up and start painfully walking towards Empire.
When i reach the light, i bend down to see the damage.

OMG!

There is a HUGE run in my stockings!! i cant possibly go to 770 like that!
and even worse, i dont have another pair to change into!
i turn around and head home with nothing else to do. my first initial reaction is anger. i am reallyupset!

hashem, i want to do the right thing, and look what you did to me>??
all i wanted to do was do something to make the rebbe proud!???

cuddled in my pajamas i realized that hashem was testing me. i wanted to do whats right, but hashem placed obstacles in my path. like they say: "If there's a will, there's a way" .
i couldve. i shouldve. i wouldve. but i didnt. I didnt take it as an opportunity to realize that it was only a g-d given test, and i should go for whats right despite the circumstances.
i failed.

Lesson brought home for the future: Dont let insignificant things drag you down from doing what's right!

--------------------------------> and i know with this lesson in mind, that next time, I'll pass! ;)

Wednesday, October 22, 2008

" A great life isn't about great BIG things; its about small things that make a BIG difference "

---- IKEA

Thursday, October 16, 2008

its 1:30 am . i make my way up kingston through the throngs of people, pushing my way to the end of the block.
clouds of ciggarette smoke wafting in the air. music vibrating in my ears. smells of israeli shampoo and french perfume cl0g my throat. feeling pushed around, unable to move or breath. there's always a constant fear of being sprayed with some can of string confetti by some kid on rollerblades.
i f i look carefully over the jam packed railing, i might get a glimpse of some men dancing. The live band playing. flags waving. as i keep crawling my way up to Crown street i might meet my freinds. bump into some people i couldnt care less about.
choked from being buried under a mass mob of humans, and at m y g-d granted height, stuffed in armpits, i just long to get out. The other side. The Heart of the Town. The new hangout in a once old community. come closer. To what?
i dunno. fresh air to unclog my longs.
WHEW!
i've hit the corner of Crown. i can breath. rid myself of this congestion.
But alas! its not meant to be. instead, my head is clouded. my neshama is choked. inward i am crying out from the depths to g-d to help me just pass throught this mess. i still cant breath. my ears no longer hear music. instead they hear the sound of boys and girls laughing, sputtered cursing. The scene is in a smoking haze of ciggarette ash. people clashing, runing, chasing. After what? who knows? as far as i can see they are chasing after a mirage. i long to hide. but i cant. i need to push my self through this and run away.
~~~~
whatever happened to Simchas Beis Hashoeva, that time of joy and happiness?
I, for one, am depressed. This is not what i call happiness. This is what i call negligence. This is what i call dreariness. This is what i call disgust. Must i walk in my own streets to witness everything i stand against in its wake?

and Hence.
I call.
From the depths.
Let every one of these boys and girls find his inner peace, be true to herself. Learn to live, to love. To stop chasing after another's dream and to create for himself his own.

i finnally pass The Mob. They're still stuck in it.

Wednesday, October 15, 2008

running after honor

it says in mishnayos that when man runs after honor, honor will always be three steps ahead of him. It also adds that when man runs away from honor, the honor will chase him.
A chassid once came to the rebbe with a complaint: "Rebbe, for so long now i have been doing my best to run away from honor, yet honor has never chanced upon me!"

To which the Rebbe smiled and Replied: "Thats because you have to stop looking over your shoulder."

Saturday, October 11, 2008

Seein Sights in the Heights

10:00 pm… men, women, and teens, roam the streets. From my little spot on the corner of Union I watch the happenings of kapparos night in Crown Heights. Girls scurrying up and down the avenue in a hustle and bustle of Erev Yom Kippur preparation. Chickens swinging all around me. Men hurrying to catch a minyan. Snippets of conversation in a vast array of different languages can be heard all around. Merchants selling lulavim and esrogim of street corners. And last minute shopping in preparation for the holiest day of the year.
I look around me and take it all in. wow. There is not a better place to live in the world. The sights. The views. The feeling. The smell ( Israelis!!!). I love this place!! I love livin here and I love every moment of it. Which other community can compare?? Which other community is so tight-woven, yet so diverse?? Or accepting, for that matter?
In which other community would you find throngs of people all heading to the same shul for selichos at 1:00 am? In which other community is there ONE live Simchas Beis Hashoeva on the main street of town? In which other community is there ONE shul where EVERYONE feels welcome? In which other community can you walk up the main avenue ( Kingston) at any time of day, to find or make a friend? In which other community can you walk in to your local shul and find it inhabited completely by foreigners? Which other community in the world is the headquarters for a world wide outreach network that hosts more than 2 conventions a year? Which other community would graciously offer their homes, time and food to an entire importing community for an entire month annually?? Which other community is made up of people who all feel a strong connection to ONE leader? Which other community is everyone welcome, despite sect, affiliation, or background?
I love Crown heights. And it’s not for nothing. This is where I belong. This is my home. This is where my past lies and my future stands. Although I know that these days of long nights spent hangin out with my friends in the hood will be long gone as real life takes its toll, my childhood memories will have this place forever embedded. And even if my move away and even if I move far, you will know that CH is always my #1 home.

Friday, October 10, 2008

reach out to me..

A tear trickles from my eyes,
As I try to hold the back the cries,
I just want to be with you,
But not at the level you’ve come to.

I want to see you happy,
But what can I say,
You’re ruining your life day by day.
And if you think you’re running away,
You’re getting more stuck every day…

You’re tangled in a web I can’t explain,
In a huge mess, so insane.
I reach out; I want to save you,
Because I know I’m the only one who can…

But I need you to reach out,
And stretch your hand to me,
I’ll help you figure out
Where you want to be.
There’s good in your heart,
I know it lies within,
But it tears me apart,
To see where you’ve been.

Hanging up the phone with you,
I can hear pain in your voice,
You claim
You want to stay the same
But really you’re drowning in pain…




Answers you don’t see,
But maybe it’s not what you need,
In order to succeed,
You just need to be freed.

Oh, I’ll take you out
Do whatever I can….
I’ll be there for you.
I’ll take your hand.

And only then…. will you be free….


So don’t think i'm leaving go of you,
I’m trying hard to pull you through,
To bring you home,
To show you what is true……..
Just stretch out you hand to me…,
And ill stretch mine out to you…

pain of change...

The clock is ticking,
Its echo calling,
I hope I’m dreaming,
Fear replaced with longing.

I just wish I could,
Go back in time,
Where things were good
And life was fine…

Happy with my life,
Cuz joy was all I knew,
Now stabbed with a knife,
Reality broken into.

I miss all those good times,
And all of the bad too,
The fun ones, the down ones,
Times I shared with you.

I cant believe that times,
Passing so fast,
Can it be that in reality,
Nothings here to last?

Well, even though I know,
And people tell me the same,
To live it up, and that’s how I’ll grow,
I feel quite to blame.

How could I have been so blinded,
How could I have not seen,
That with good, challenge lies behind it,
Changing everything.

I cant say I don’t miss those times,
Happy and carefree,
But at least I can tell myself,
I’m still the same old me!