The Ten Second Rule

Recently, one rare momentous occasion of boredom saw me browning through the Gmail features. I wasn't looking for anything in particular, when I just hit upon a new feature. My eyes popped out of my head in astonishment at today's miraculous technology. Get this: Wit this all-new, one-of-a-kind feature, it is now possible to UNDO an email within ten seconds after hitting the "Send" button. Meaning, the computer will withhold your email, preventing it from getting into the recipients account for a full 10 seconds, giving you the chance to undo the action. 

10 seconds is a relatively short amount of time, and there isn't much one can do in  such a time span. But imagine if every word emitted from our mouths would be held in the air for a full 10 seconds before reaching the recipient. And within that time, one can just reach out his hand and take back what he said. Literally. 

Something tells me that there would be so much less understanding and regret if we had that power. To have the opportunity to stop, rethink and swallow our words before, like darts, they sharply hit their target, would be a most useful gift imaginable. 

--

I'm sure most of you have heard of the "Ten Second Rule." But for those of you that haven't, let me explain: 

Many a time, people will be found congregating together, laughing, and chatting, when somebody passes by that either sparks interest, gossip, or memory. As we humans go, were always more than glad to share whats on their mind's with others, greatly broadening their knowledge of the subject at hand. 

However, saying what's to be said with the subject within view and earshot is rude and rather audacious. So here is where the "Ten Second Rule" comes in handy: Before anyone opens their mouths, they first mentally count to ten to be sure the subject is not within earshot. 

This widely accepted rule is conveniently smart, but nasty. 

But, adding a twist to this rule may change that: for Ten Seconds, instead of impatiently holding in the words, trying to unsuccessfully calm the bubbling mouths, contain the babbling string of words about to be fired at the target, the "Ten Second Rule" can be used for one to STOP oneself from saying words deemed as slander. 

Yup! You got it! 10 seconds. such a short amount of time. But if It can be enough time to stop an email from reaching its destination, It can be enough to stop a word from leaving the mouth. And guess what? Those 10 seconds may save years worth of damage. 

Catching up on G-d

G-d?.
I hope you don't mind me calling you at this hour, but...
I'm Sorry.
...For loosening my grip, when I should have been tightening my connection.
...For Covering up the real me and faking it all the way through.
...For questioning your existence.
I'm Sorry, but I couldn't help it. You're the master of the universe, so I bet you understand. I bet you feel the challenge and the confusion that fill your children's days. You do, right Father?

Allow me to confess:

Lately [>sigh<] I think I've landed on the pause button.

And now: Deciding, choosing, scrutinizing and hemming and hawing over my options: to fast forward or rewind.
I search for your hand that guides me, but its nowhere within sight. Has it landed on the pause button too? Where can I find you?
And I must. Because where You lie, lies myself.

If you're so big, then how do you fit here?
Is it true, as they claim, that You in all Your glory have a space inside my little heart?
That You guide my soul, with a map drawn with love?

Then why don't You tell me?
G-d, you still there?
Phew.
K. Not done, so hear me out.
Sometimes, because I don't feel you, I pretend Your not there. I ignore Your silent pleas, justifying it because I don't see your presence hovering over me and beckoning Your will.
Sorry, but I need proofs.
But you're right... I could use a little dose of Kabbolos Ol.

G-d, just one more thing.
I know, I've just been beating You up. But at the end of the day, I... love You.
I really do.
Because there is something in me that pulls me to you. Like metal to a magnet.
Because when in pain (and in love), I instinctively turn to You in Prayer. And I can feel my connection soar.

So my one little prayer:
Like you clear up the skies after the storm, clear up the Confusion and reveal your depth with clarity.

Because no one seems to get you. No one seems to understand you. But we want to.

Yeah. I want to.

I'm sorry G-d.
And thanks for not hanging up on me.

Two faces, One Drop

It was a slightly cool afternoon,a bit cloudy. My legs carried me swiftly, through the streets, my minds only focus: Getting to the bank before it closes. Rain Splattered against my face, fogging my glasses and soaking my clothes. But I walked on with determination, with a face aglow in sheer appreciation for the refreshing, wet tingle.
I arrived at the bank.
A nice sign hung on the door. I wasn't sure, but for a moment I thought the it said "CLOSED".

And Suddenly...
The clouds were a menacing shade of gray. Although it was spring, the weather had me chilled to the bone.Mt feet dragged me across town. Where I was going, I didn't care to know. I just walked. The Rain hit me with force, and the fog blurred my eyesight. I walked heavily, mood not much better than the miserable weather. And there were no attempts to hide it one bit.

---

Thought to ponder:
Sometimes life carries us. There are springs to our steps and joy to our days. Then something goes wrong, and all of a sudden, it seems like life is dragging us across town by force. The joys become a nuisance, and the once merry tunes turn to drone. How ironic.
One raindrop brings love, joy, peace and calm, while the other brings heartache.

It's all attitude :) and what YOU make of the rain :)

Yud Alef Nissan

Happy Birthday Rebbe!!!
You know something, I think you're the only guy in the world that has so many thousands celebrating his birthday.
But not for nothing! Not at all.
Gosh, Rebbe.
My love for you is bursting through the seams.
You gave me so much as a person.
You gave me so much as a chossid.
Because of you, Rebbe, I have so much to be thankful for.
For my way of life.
Because every moment of my day, I think, speak and feel like a chossid.
For my Self.
Because you gave me the confidence. Because I know that with you constantly on my side, I can conquer the world.
For my future.
Because of you, I am a chossid. And my children will be Chassidim, my Grandchildren, and Great grandchildren Bezras Hashem.
A world of a difference has come through.
Lifestyles changed.
For the better.
Goodness and kindness illuminating our dark black and sick world.
And Rebbe, I hereby give you the credit.
For sending out your luminaries.
For taking a stand.
For Being responsible for touching so many lives.
For changing so many mindsets.
For just Changing the world.
Happy Birthday Rebbe!

Love, your #1 fan and Chossid,
Chaya Mushka Bas Basya

P.S. What do you want as a birthday present?

K, just happens to be that when i wrote this I didnt really know anything. I debated over whether to delete it or not and just decided to keep it. After all, why not?


Kotel Plaza
Standing in full glory.
Newly washed and polished stones.
Crevices emptied,
notes and letters
spilling forth.
Swept away,
collected
on the ground.


A janitor
Broom and shovel in hand
sweeps away letters,
With the many tears
With the many hearts
many broken
bitter hearts
that still yearn
for connection.
For salvation.
For Redemption.

And yet,
how can one so blatantly throw it all away?
How can one cleanse another Jew's pain?
How can one brush away the heartfelt cries of love that so many have written to G-d?

How?

Why the Breach in the intense connection?

Janitor, Janitor,
Sweep it away
But dont forget,
you're sweeping tears.

Through the Lenses

Stepping out of the glasses store with my newly purchased glasses perched upon my nose, saw me with mixed emotions.
Squinting my eyes in the sunshine, I felt a feeling of newness.
Of rebirth.
An overwhelming feeling of disbewlief at what I had been missing out in all this time.
I could finnally see.
With utmost clarity.
I felt like a new person.
At last,
I could view Hashem's world down to the minutest detail.
It's an awesome, unbelievable feeling.

But Then,

More things come to view...

The imperfections.
The mistakes.
The Stains.
The black spots.
The Defects.
Visible, and more than ever.

But do I really want to see the imperfections?
Do I truly wish to constantly view and judge?

I think not.

Having glasses at last sure is great-
but they're not glued on to the face for a reason.
So that we can remove them, just as the imperfections wish to come in sight. :)

Just when I thought all was lost,
and I could just feel the hopelessness slowly creeping
to me. Ever so slowly. Quietly overcoming me...

Just when I thought no one would get it,
That there was no point in trying.
That an effort to relate was useless...

Just when I felt that I was alone,
that the island would remain stranded forever,
and that I'll never fix circumstance...

...A hand tapped me on the shoulder.
-
-
And just as I was about to run away,
I turned around...
And it was you.



Dedicated to Pumpkin ;)
----> for always letting me vent :)
Luv ya :)

corkscrew

Heart
Fills up
like a bottle under pressure.
It tightens
from the claustrophobia
and squeezes
to allow more in.
The build-up over time,
makes my heart ready to Burst.
I want to let it all out.
To release the tension,
to shout out to the world the truth
get it off my chest
admit whats on my conscience.
But I have one fear:
-
-
that I will lose the cork.

But I keep holding on....

Pesach cleaning somehow always conjures up old memories. As I sifted through piles of clothing and possessions, I came across an old tattered notebook. 

I comfortably sat myself down at the edge of my bed, and opened it up. Suddenly, memories fluttered into my face, straight from those pages. 

This was the notebook in which I wrote down lists, poems and schedules. It was the notebook where most of my blog posts were born.  

With the scribbles alongside illegible handwriting, my life marked its pages. I pored over it, deep in thought. It was the documentary of a time gone by. It held my memories.

I was frozen in a moment in time. And in couldn’t bring myself to let go. I debated whether I should keep the notebook or just throw it out. 

Something within urged me to keep it. 

But another voice called out, begging me to let go of the past. 

And I did.

Because we can’t sit on the past forever. 

Because we have to move on. 

Losing Grip

It started with a knot.

And over time a rope was formed

Strengthened by my toil,

Thickened by my hope. 

And the grip got tighter. 

And just when i thought i finally had you,

the blade hit the rope.

And you were lost. 

Between the lines

Can love be placedin words not said?

Can tongues paint an image that only words can?

Can hearts still bond when the tapestry is ruined?

And can feelings be real when not confirmed? 

The energy runs between the lines. 

Caught in a tangle of lofty tunes. 

It is not clear, so is it true?

But only a fools to believe in only what he sees. 

Trapped

Trapped 

within four cold walls.

No means of escape

are found.

Mouth opens

but no sounds can be emitted,

no words can be formed.

Mouth closes 

in defeat.

Yet still my soul cries out

for freedom. 

On a Park Bench

The scene is made up of two people. 

And a park bench. 

The rings of laughter fill the air.

As two old buddies reminiscence on times bygone. 

Day in. Day out.

Same Place. 

Same time. 

  I never blinked twice as I passed. 

  But one day I did. 

  Because this time

  The scene was made up of One man.

  And a park bench. 

  and nothing more but tears. 

 

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .What You Pray For. . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Hands trembling

heart beseeching

Peering over your shoulder

I wait for movement

But you stand Frozen

In a stillness of serenity

Your heart is wrapped around the words

carefully emitted from your lips. 

Your hands fumbling

with the tattered sheets. 

Your eyes gaze past 

fading words.

With your heart filled 

with supplication

as your statue like figure

melts down 

into a bucket 

of altruism. 

And you pray. 

For Self.

 For friends.

For family. 

And as your shadow stiffens,

and your prayer comes to a close,

 I wonder...

did you pray for me? 

______Picking Away at the Cover Up_____

Heaven swept down upon earth,

barely kissing surface

mission laid out.

Set to find

Passing sparkling oceans

spraying mist upon the shores.

Passing sun-baked mountain peaks,

storm-stricken deserts.

Crouching deep within the forests

and searching deep within caves.

And sunk within a search proven futile,

the Heavens dared to call

Where?

Where are you?

Whats become of you?

Where are you at?

The voice leaves impressions

of question marks

upon the hidden creation,

That is being begged to define

its place.

And history repeats itself.

I stare into your glistening eyes

past mascara smears

and glossed lips.

Beyond the shading bangs

and cover-up.

And although you're within sight

I wonder where you are.

Are you here, exactly?

Where have you been?

Where are you heading?

Am I penetrating?

Who really cares?

As long as my love for you is.

Light on a Cloudy Day

Clouds of confusion hanging low, 

black, white and grey, 

no color flow. 

Question marks whizzing by my head, 

Take troden paths? 

Unpaved instead?

My soul is being torn apart, 

between 2 worlds,

yet there's one heart. 

I try to fight, strike an attack, 

each time I try, 

I'm just pushed back. 

Yet through a crack, I see the light,

Explanations,

shine through bright.

They beckon me, I heed the call, 

slowly in place, 

the answers fall. 

It's taking time, but still I know,

the more I struggle,

the more I grow. 

Bare Minded

My minds gone blank. 

Funny. 

Only 20 minutes ago I was ready to relate to the entire world of my existance. 

And now, so much is my worth from what I call a barely audible sound. 

So, from a man of few words... 

I exist. 

C'mon, Get a Life and Get Real

Hey you. 

Yeah, you in the black sweater and curly hair. 

With a name tag that says "CMBC".

Yeah.... I'm Talking to YOU. 

Now. 

Listen up. 

You think you know everything? You think you got nothing left to learn and nothing to live for? 

You think that you need to stop and charge or else you can't move on? 

Well listen to this: 

Get over yourself. 

Stop limiting yourslef to your preconceived notions. 

Learn to move on, and push youself. 

Stop relying on the world for your motivation.

Inspire yourself. 

Learn to accept. 

Learn to forgive and learn to forget and most of all, learn to move on. 

NoW stop standing there. 

Move that little self of yours. 

Build bridges. 

And get over them. 

Come on... you can do it. 

Stop living in a fog of the past. 

Keep building your future, and smile at the univited dark spots. You'll learn from them more than can ever be taught to you. 

And most of all... believe in yourself. Because you can. 

Because the world is only as amazing as it is because of people that dared to be different. 

and you are. 

There.

I said it. 

World of Irony

Some people are makers, others are breakers.

Some givers, some takers. 

Some keepers, some foresakers. 

Livin in a world where harmony resides, 

earth singing a tune, Im wrapped in the lines. 

The greater the beauty, the better the irony. 

The faker the society, the more unique is reality.

When the world turns right, we dont bother to mention,

and when its spinning wrong, we question. 

So bask in the sunshine, 

because within the ironic tendencies of this world,

 art reigns. 

Pullin the Ropes

Muggy monday mornin in the Brooklyn metropolis

 Irksome alarms  ringing in my ears... wake up call.

No way... can't face a new day...

Roll over. 

Snooze...

Provocation resounds once more...

Roll over.

Hold it. 

now...

Move it. 

We got our ropes around your waist and were pullin for ya girl!!!