October 2005 Archives
The last few weeks have been what I can only describe as a altered-state kind of living hell of overwork and exhaustion. I have been either working too hard on Pachyderm, working too hard on comics, or playing too hard with friends. I've averaged about 3-4 hours of sleep a night, and I have had no time to write or be creative, much less blog. It's not that I haven't had good things to talk about -- I'v thought of and had to let go of several very promising very juicy topics for blog entries, but instead of trying to capture them all, or holding myself back because I didn't blog about that last one I obsessed about, I'm going to acknowledge that life is flow and I have to pick from the stream while it is moving past me, or else just let the thought go and be ready for the next one.
So many things going on in my life, really there are. But what is topical? Well, the house next door finally went up for sale -- the previous occupants lived there for years and years (30? 40?), and were on a fixed income, kinda crazy and reclusive, and have definitely let the house go in a major way. About a month or two back, the husband died and left his widow alone and unable to really cope for herself. We tried to be neighborly and help out when we could, but the truth of the matter is, we have had too much in our own lives to manage, much less to help out the sweet but hopelessly clueless and frail lady next door. Anyhow, last weekend I noticed there was a big dumpster out in front of the house, and last Monday a big moving van showed up. During the day (I work at home on Mondays), the contents of the house were pulled out of the house and systematically sorted into 'that which goes into the truck' and 'that which goes into the trash'. Many things did not make it to the former. I went out to investigate, because it was readily apparent that the widow was no longer in residence, and I was interested to make sure she was okay. As I said, she was frail and incapable of taking care of herself, so my concerns were not unfounded.
As it turns out, her kids / step-kids who live in Los Angeles picked her up and moved her down to be with them (which, honestly, was the best thing for her). I can only hope they are keeping her with them, and didn't just put her into a home. In any case, there was a man out there helping with the destruction of furniture destined for category b who was wearing a shirt and tie, and so struck me as someone of a different status than the average moving company employee. It turned out to be the new realtor, a family friend, and the individual responsible for selling the house. I told him that I might be interested in picking up the place, and got his information. Because, truth be told - the house has been moldering for years, and we had our own little personal morbid joke that one day we'd find the both of our neighbors dead, but since they're such recluses, they wouldn't be found for weeks, and the house would go on sale as a MAJOR fixer-upper, and of course, we'd buy it and move our friends into it. Much to our horror and embarrassment when we found out that husband had indeed died. In any case, the house is a fixer-upper and we are more than just a little serious about trying to pick it up at the very least as an investment. I called the realtor on Friday, and discovered the house had been listed as-is for $599k. This is of course, outrageous, considering the house is probably going to take at least $100k in repairs to bring it up to a livable standard. It has dry rot that needs to be repaired. It needs a new roof, it's unclear if the radiant heat still works, the boiler, range, and oven are all original to the house (1958). Both bathrooms are in need of being gutted and replaced. The fireplace leans to the side, and you can see daylight between the side windows and the brickwork. The floors are completely shot. Did I mention that it needs landscaping?
However, the roof appears to be without a sag in it, and the main bones look structurally sound. $600k for a 1386 square foot house 3 bedroom / 2 bath with garage, bordering on a school -- in a neighborhood where comparable houses in decent condition are going for $750-800k. If we were to put $100k into the house, we'd make it back pretty readily. If we hold the house for 5-7 years, we will make a decent return on our investment.
Do we need another project like this? Probably not, but it'd be kinda fun playing 'This Old House', and it would allow us to control who our neighbors would be, to a certain extent. Do we have the money to invest in the property -- strangely enough, we might. Julie is getting an inheritance from her grandfather that could amount to the $xxx range, and if we go in with our friends on the purchase, we could put $yyy down, and reserve $zzz for repairs and sundries, and bring the mortgage down low enough for our friends to be able to make the payments. After the investment term (5-7 years), we would get our investment back plus our share of the equity. If our friends wanted to buy us out, they could and keep the property. Otherwise, we could sell it on the market for a hefty profit. Granted, the housing bubble could burst, but even if the value stayed static and rose only with the cost of inflation, we're still making our money back plus at least %16.66 percent, which is decent returns. Chances are, however, that the market will continue to rise before it levels off, and we can expect much better returns. Our own house is worth nearly triple what we initially paid for it in 1999.
In any case, this is what's obsessing us right now. We have until the 11th to get all our ducks in a row to even make an offer, and there's no guarantee it'd happen. Our neighbor across the street, who is an agent, seems to think this is a fair price for the area, and that the bids might go over to the extent of $25k or so. Crazy.
So, do we do this? It's a big step, and might be a little crazy... but it feels like a first step to making the types of financial decisions that could move us out of 'the rat race' of wage-earners and into the world of allowing our capital to work for us. Besides, for the time of the investment, we'd have our good friends living next to us, and we'd be giving them the opportunity to enter into the world of homeowners, which in Marin is a near impossibility without an influx of capital.
The difficulty, of course, comes into negotiating the possible conflict of interests between making money in the investment, and doing the best thing for our friends. If we look at this purchase as a mere way-point where both parties will cash out after the term of investment (5-7 years), then there is really no conflict. However, we really want our friends to stay here forever, and I'm sure they want to as well. In that model, they would have to pay us back our initial investment, plus our share of the equity. If the value of the house goes up as much as we expect it to, and for an investment, you want the value to increase as much as possible, that is money that would come directly out of our friends' pockets at the moment the investment term matures. That's money they can either take out of the house in equity (and increase their debt burdon accordingly), or they'd have to pay in some other fashion (such as the dividends from some other investment). If they can't make the pay-off on our scheduled moment, what then? Do we foreclose? Do we just ride it out and let our investment stay tied up in the house in favor of preserving having our friends live next-door? These are all issues we need to work out with them, of course, and decide for ourselves. I'm sure there's a right answer, and a set of agreements we can all be comfortable with. And in the long run, it's a good thing for everyone. It gets them into the housing market, it allows them to get a huge tax write-off for being property owners, and it allows them to no longer throw their money away in rent. For us, it allows us to increase our own property value, get our own tax breaks, have very good friends be our neighbors for at least the term of the investment, and we get to control ultimately who lives next door. We get to turn that eyesore into a gem.
We only have two weeks to make it all come together for the bid. That means, we have to start working now to make it happen.
Julie's parents have said they'd help us by covering our part of the investment until Julie's inheritance comes in. That's a big step in the right direction. I think tomorrow I have to start making phone calls. I would like to call in a radiant heat specialist to inspect the property before I even decide to make a bid on the house, because -- if the heat doesn't work, it's probably not worth the investment.
I had no clue I'd be making decisions like this someday, if you had asked me ten years ago. I hope it works out. I feel good about this. It feels like an insane rush, but even if this doesn't work out, we'll educate ourselves in the process, and could be ready to make a similar arrangement on some other property, even if this one doesn't pan out. It's kind of exciting. I lay it at the feet of the winds of fate, and can do no more than the best I can do.
My blog is worth $3,387.24.
How much is your blog worth?
Leave your first memory of you and me together. It doesn't matter if I know you a little or a lot, anything you remember! Next, post this in your blog and see how many people leave a memory about you.
You are Novelty Eyelash.
You are very of the moment, hip, and happening. You
are often seen wrapped around someone's neck.
Some see you as too flashy and ultimately
shallow, but you are having too much fun to
notice.
What kind of yarn are you?
brought to you by Quizilla
The Huffington Post has an article raising the flag once again on the war against our voting issues in America. Please read and re-inspire yourself to the most important fight we have to face in America today, against the single most important threat against American democracy.
Brad Friedman: The Fight for American Democracy Continues...: "
...Whether Those Who Hate America and Democracy Like it Or Not.
Don't honk at old ladies crossing the street in a crosswalk...
So, I'm not certain if anyone remembers my post on the Brugo Mug, well a few weeks ago Izzy delivered to me a Brugo that she purchased for me the day after I wrote the post (this is roughly six weeks later), so already Brugo is down on points for customer service.
I've spent the last few weeks living intimately with my new mug, and as much as I hate to say this, I have to tell you -- this is merely an 'okay' travel mug, and is not the end-all-be-all-change-the-world-of-coffee-drinking-everywhere wonder it promised to be. I guess they get an A+ on marketing.
The whole gimmick of the Brugo mug is the 'PTZ', or the 'Perfect Temperature Zone', where the coffee is not so hot as to be scalding, but not too cool to be enjoyed. The Brugo's design incorporates a cooling chamber near the lid that can be filled with a tip of the wrist, and in this chamber the coffee quickly cools to the 'PTZ', and is then drinkable, but keeps the rest of the coffee safe inside the thermal insulated cup, awaiting the next PTZ tip. In concept, this is a great idea, and was enough for me to want one. In general, my biggest complaint is not that my coffee is too hot (yet, sometimes it is), but that it cools too fast, so I figured this would allow the liquid within to stay at the high temperature longer, while allowing me to drink at temps that won't burn my mouth. The problem is -- the mug is not well insulated, so the coffee cools at the same rate as my complaint mugs. I'm guessing the unit is just a double-wall cup, with no vacuum chamber.
Also, the 'tip and cool' technology is a bit annoying to use, as you have to tip the unit significantly backwards (90 degrees when it gets past half-way down the cup), and then tip it forward to sip, with only a small bit of coffee in the reservoir. For me, it means I'm rocking my cup back and forth like a paint mixer on slow-mo. I find most of the time, I've got the cup adjusted to 'sip' mode, bypassing the special technology. I suppose it would be less annoying if I actually HAD scaldingly-hot coffee in the mug. The problem really is, there aren't too many places in my daily routine that serve coffee at the scaldingly-hot temperatures necessary to make this cup operate in its intended effective range. So, I start off with hot-but-not-too-hot coffee that cools way too fast. I can keep the coffee in the drinkable range for about 1-2 hours, so I guess I shouldn't complain too much, but I have been known to nurse my coffee for 3 or 4 hours, and it's cold by then. I have metal thermos cups that have a true vacuum between the layers, and they keep the coffee warm much longer, but then -- you have the scorch-factor.
For aesthetics, I give the Brugo an A, because it really is a nice looking and feeling cup. I like the sleek design, the ergonomic grip, and the lid fits very nicely on the unit. It took me a while to figure out the top and cup need to align perfectly on two small triangles in order for the tip and cool / sip technology to work properly, but once I figured that out, it's pretty easy to use. The toggle is fairly easy to use, though there's no strong 'click' when you are at the right place for each dial.
The cup pretty much needs to be thrown in the dish washer to clean it properly, because the 'cooling chamber' is too deep and to narrow to get a sink sponge into it to clean it. So, unless you have a dishwasher or rinse this thing out immediately after use, you're gonna collect residue in that chamber. I guess you could use a q-tip to clean it.
All in all, the Brugo is about as good as any of my other insulated coffee cups, with the advantage of having the sip lock, but it doesn't keep the coffee warm for as long as I would have liked. It's taken the prime spot in my coffee mug rotation, and likely will be the one I use most of the time for the forseeable future. However, it is not the amazing end-all-be-all of mugs that was promised. I think if they were to combine their lid design with a true vacuum thermos container, maybe a metal cup, they'd be pretty close to perfect.
Gas Guy is Gas Gone, or This is our Gas Goodbye.: "
This is rather interesting, because it calls into question the nature of the relationship between blogger and blog reader, or at least the assumptions about that relationship. I have to say, part of me is a little upset about this, and I take issue with Jeremy's comparison between his blog and the works of other fictional writers, mostly because the relationship is clear and well-defined when you pick up a piece of fictional literature that what you are about to read is... well... fiction. When you read a person's blog, you're entering into the assumption that the person on the other end is a real person -- I know, it's a foolish assumption, because the form allows for all sorts of public communication -- but, when you enter into an invested relationship with the person writing the blog, only to be told they are not who they said they were, it's a little bit like the crying game's reveal. You feel revulsed, and you have to go take a shower. Okay, well it's not THAT bad... but dammit, I want to believe in the myth of the self-educated gas attendant. It suits my 'Clerks' sensibilities, and is just enough Holden Caufield to really get me going. I guess what I'm saying is, I identified with the gas guy, and I really felt wonderful that a person could reach the sort of enlightenment he had through everyday experience. Now I find out, he didn't -- or if he did, it was an entirely different set of experiences.
Anyhow, I think one of the comments in his last post captures it for me - the importance placed on a gas attendant's education on this blog implies a supposition that gas attendants are generally uneducated. That shows a certain amount of prejudice, and well, for those attendants who might authentically keep a blog about their experiences, this series of fictional entries devalue that expression.
In any case, I really liked the writing. It's sad to me it's not real, but it doesn't change the fact that it's good.
Belief is a slippery fish, and faith is but to grasp it firmly.
--Me (or at least I can't think of anyone who's said it before me)
First off, let me apologize for being so quiet on the blog front over the last month, because there have been excellent blog entries that were in my head but never made it to the keyboard due to all sorts of reasons of excuses, from being too tired, to having too much work to do, to watching too much TV or playing Civ 3 too much or reading OTHER people's blogs -- tonight I spent 2 hours reading entries, and would have continued with the self-delusion of 'once I'm done, I'll write my own blog entry'... yeah right. So, I have stopped to give myself enough mental energy to get this entry out to yous all. It's a deep thought I had today, and let's hope I can articulate it with any justice
Today is Rosh Hashanah (yesterday now, due to the time it took me to write this entry) -- the Jewish new year (the birthday of the world), and I spent the day in temple with Julie contemplating the lessons of the day, and spending a good time in introspection, trying to wrap my mind around my own belief structure, and my take on faith in general. It's interesting how concepts in Judaism directly wire up with my own experience of the world and my own spiritual quest, and yet I still find existential friction inside that keeps me from saying 'yes, this is the religion for me', mostly because I have a difficulty deciding whether or not I have belief or faith in any spiritual doctrine or religion. Thus, the internal debate and discussion of the day ensues.
The question of faith... I find that I go back and forth on this idea all the time. When asked what religion I am by anyone, I usually respond 'philosophical', because I don't know how else to answer this question. What I know is, I have in moments and on occasions had a deep internal existential belief in some power outside of myself which is greater than I am and which has some sort of bearing on my well-being and on reality in general. Any time I try to articulate that feeling into a statement of belief, or attach it to some dogmatic faith or religious structure, it starts to fail for me. I have a skeptical and scientifically-bent mind, and I find it difficult to take the leap of faith and say 'yes, I believe in God(dess)'. That inability to positively affirm and commit to my belief in a higher being feels to me like a bar that separates me from any particular religious faith I might decide to adhere to.
I have contemplated Buddhism, but I also know I'm not much of an ascetic, and I don't believe necessarily in the proposed cosmology that the world is an illusion that I must separate from. The truth be told, I really kinda like the world, and I'm rather attached to it, though I try to not let things get me too down, and I practice buddhism-lite of 'let it fall off your back like a duck in water'. Today the statement was made comparing Buddhism and Judaism, saying that Buddhism believes that suffering comes from our attachment to the world, and in order to achieve tranquility, we must detach from the world. This is very different from Judaism which states that our suffering stems from our deep care and connection with the world which is broken, and in order to achieve peace we must fix the world. I kinda dig that. Judaism is an activist faith that is based on good works. Kinda like Methodism, but without the Jesus.
Jesus. Yeah, good ol' JC. I used to have a pretty strong relationship with the guy. We'd talk every single day, and I felt a very strong spiritual connection with my lord of lords. That was until I lost my religion in late high school. It wasn't all at once, but it was little by little. I'm not sure that there was one single cause for my loss of faith, but probably it was equal parts sex, witnessing of hypocracy, and exploration of philosophy and my own thinking mind. In any case, I finally somewhere along the road admitted to myself that I no longer believe that good ol' JC is the son of God, sent down to save our souls. I do think the historical figure had a lot of good things to teach us regarding running a healthy social organism. I also think that some of his ideas are flawed. But the son of God Almighty? Let's just say, I don't have enough evidence to even believe in God himself, so thinking about his son is a bit premature.
I do recognize in myself a need for a spiritual connection, and I have explored many pathways. I tried on Wiccanism/Ritual magick for a while, but found in the end that its methods were just as unscientific and unprovable as Christianity. Again, philosophy was my undoing. This is not to deny that while practicing ritual magick, I did indeed have experiences that felt real enough to deem them some sort of highly ecstatic altered state which may or may not have been spiritual in nature. Among the more powerful experiences was 'channelling' or 'invoking' a spiritual entity. While doing so, that entity (I believe it was an elemental lord) spoke through my mouth and effected a personality that I felt truly out of control of. I merely witnessed it acting through me, as a spectator. It was truly amazing. It of course could have been wholely my subconscious at work, but still-- quite a powerful experience.
I have also tried atheism on, mostly right after studying Nietzsche. However, I found this viewpoint both as dogmatic as any religious belief, and also quite depressing a concept. I knew that deep inside I have a need for a connection with the spiritual, as well as a never-ceasing fear of the oblivion promised at the end of this physical body if this is all that there is. I admit it -- I am afraid of not existing. I'm not necessarily afraid of death, if it is only some sort of transition between one conscious state and another. I'm disturbed by the idea of losing self, and so reincarnation while attractive philosophically, scares me a bit as well. I feel it's a lot like writing the greatest work of biographical nonfiction you possibly can, and on the last sentence of the last page, then burning the whole thing in the trash can. What exactly was the point? But this is pretty much equivalent to atheism in that it promises the death of the personality.
Since 1995, and up until last year, I was a Rosicrucian, studying western mysticism and metaphysics in order to get a grasp on what it is that I might actually believe, and how I could harness that belief into practical ability. Part of me is very much attracted to the idea of activity on the spiritual (read extra-body) plane, and I worked at the weekly lessons, at least half-heartedly for years until last year, while serving as a leader on the track to being a very important leader of an inner sect of the order, I did some introspection and came to the conclusion that I just don't know if I believe any of what I had been learning over the last decade. Again, I had experiences that felt like spiritual connections, but nothing that I could point a finger at and say positively 'yes, I believe that this really was something related to spirit/god/other and isn't fully explainable through psychology and neurobiology. I've read articles about studies that have looked into cat-scans and MRI's of buddhist monks deep in meditation, and found areas of the mind that are active during the moments of transcendence, and which subsequently can be stimulated artificially to create the same feelings in the mind of the experiencer. So, yeah. I found myself in a crisis of faith once again, and out of fairness to the order, for after all I still respect it and the work that it does for those who are true believers, to step down and out and get my own head straight around what I might believe or not believe before I enter back into that sort of position or relationship again. After ten years, one would think I'd be certain of my beliefs. In absence of that certainty, I felt it was time to go.
I've tried Yoga as a spiritual pursuit as well, and so far it's been my favorite, since it requires no belief -- only postures -- to stimulate the same sort of spiritual action inside. But, ultimately I'm lazy and I've let that fall by the wayside as well. And deeper than my laziness, is a realization that shocked me at first, but now feels very comfortable. For all of my life up until recently, I've been seeking a connection with the spiritual for several major reasons: One is the possibility of personal spiritual power, but that is really just a means to the second reason -- to convince myself of a world outside of this one, to a place outside of my body that I might exist and be conscious. I've tried astral projection through meditation and through hypnosis, but never got any results I felt positive about. I've tried all sorts of manipulations and exercises to prove to myself without a doubt that the world beyond exists, and that I can pin my faith to it. And of course, I always fall short, because I am misapprehending the nature of faith, or else I am unwilling to participate in it as I understand it.
But maybe, I'm just approaching it all wrong. Much like the studies that prove that while expressions on a face are indicative of inner emotional states, that merely by imitating the facial expression, we can evoke that genuine emotional state within us, perhaps faith acts in somewhat the same fashion. Through all of my spiritual journey, as a child deep in the throes of Christianity, or my experimentation with ritual magick, or my studies with the Rosicrucians, I had experiences that in the moment were very real for me. They involved physical sensation, and mental/emotional ecstasy which had meaning to me and effected me whether or not they were actually caused by some extra-physical contact. I continue to have these meaningful experiences when I allow myself to enter into a deep meditative state, and I know that for days afterwards my life is just a little bit easier than it was before the experience. Perhaps I need to merely become practiced at invoking the state of faith, so that faith becomes resident in my being.
Why do I care so much about faith? If I don't have it, what makes me certain I need it? Don't I have skepticism about true belief, and if I held a belief that I did not examine, would I be happy? And if I did examine it, could I call it faith any longer? Or more importantly, could it survive my scrutiny? Hard questions. Maybe it's because I feel inside myself a nostalgia for my childhood when it was all taken for granted, and the peace that feeling gave me around certain existential questions. Perhaps on the other hand, it's because I have a memory of my own personal power in the heights of my faith, and lacking that faith, I lack an inner certainty that I could harness like an anchor in my life through all of this worlds storms and troubles. Faith can move mountains... or at least, it can hold someone strong in the face of an onslaught of bad luck and consequence. Perhaps I yearn for that certainty, just so that I have something to pin my universe on. Right now, it's all a bunch of shifting sands, and some ideas I just choose not to analyze too deeply in fear that I will again uncover unstable ground. So, I ignore the heavy existential questions as meaningless and unanswerable. Is there a God? Is there life after death? Is there such thing as an immortal soul? All questions that we cannot answer through philosophy or science. All questions whose answers lie beyond this mortal coil or in oblivion. I leave myself then to the questions that matter here and now: how do I live a good life? What is my moral compass? What do I believe in, at the practical level? Am I alone?
At these sorts of questions, I find that Judaism excels in helping to find the answers. While nominally a faith that postulates the existence of a God that has had in the past a very direct role in the fate of his people, it is obstensively today a faith that focuses on how to live a good life, and how to form a more perfect society. In that, I can totally get behind it. I have met many Jews who are not true believers, but still go to temple at least for the High Holidays and still practice the rituals and holidays lain down by tradition and family. I once heard an allegorical story of an atheist Jew asked why he attended temple religiously every Shabbat, and his answer was 'You don't have to believe in God for God to believe in you.' At first, this seems like a witticism that is cute and points at the need for Jews to keep to tradition exterior to their own personal spiritual beliefs, but I suspect it might point to something deeper -- to the idea that deep inside, no matter what we might believe or not believe, we have a sense that we are not alone in the world, and that there is something bigger than us that we have direct and intimate contact with every single moment of our lives. We know we have that contact, and furthermore... we know we need it.
I am coming to terms with that very deep core belief. I think I have it. I can't articulate it beyond that. I don't know what it means exactly, and I don't always have the ability to grab hold of it. Some days, I'm just... not a believer. Some days, I just feel... alone. But on other days, I do feel it, and I feel it deeply and intimately, and it is for those days that I know that I can't give up on the quest. Julie and I have just joined our local synagogue as actual card-carrying members with fees and all. We are going to be trying to integrate spiritual practice in our lives and in our family's lives on a deeper level than just during High Holidays and Passover. For me, it's an exploration. I have played with the idea of conversion to Judaism because I love it's tradition of questioning its own beliefs and disputing the meaning of scripture ad nauseum. The Talmud is a document of just that debate. for every ten Jews, there are at least twelve opinions on the meaning of any particular scripture. And yet... there is something deeply traditional and unchanging to the faith. The practices are questioned, but never abandoned. I am thinking that this might have something to do with the idea that as faith dictates ritual, ritual also imbues faith. The Shema, or prayer to god that is supposed to be on the door and gate of every Jewish home, and are to be spoken every morning and every evening reads as the follows:
Hear, Israel, the Lord is our God, the Lord is One. Blessed be the Name of His glorious kingdom for ever and ever And you shall love the Lord your God with all your heart and with all your soul and with all your might. And these words that I command you today shall be in your heart. And you shall teach them diligently to your children, and you shall speak of them when you sit at home, and when you walk along the way, and when you lie down, and when you rise up. And you shall bind them as a sign on your hand, and they shall be for frontlets between your eyes. And you shall write them on the doorposts of your house and on your gates...
The prayer goes on, and you can read a translation of it on the web (try this translation of the shema) if you like. The important thing is, I think the Jews really got it in the faith department -- practice makes perfect, not perfect makes practice. So, faith is not necessarily something that you have, but something that you do and you get better at and that you fail at, and that you recover from.
During Rosh Hashanah, the Shofar (ram's horn) is blown, and many different explanations are given to what the horn means, but the most prevalent reason as to why the horn is blown, is that it is a shock to the system and a wake-up call to the soul, to bring one's self back to the faith, to the introspection of self, and to spiritual belief and practice. Every year the Jews undertake a ritual in their holiest of days to self-examine, to repent, to correct, and to commit anew to their identities as Jews. This is manditory, and universal. What other group of people, what other religion requires such a level of self-examination? I'd pay good money for that experience alone, not to mention the food :). Also, in the blowing of the shofar, at least as put forth by the rabbi at our synagogue today, there is the recognition that we can be broken, or smashed to pieces inside, but there is always the promise of wholeness. In short, the shofar reminds us of the promise of spiritual wholeness that is within our grasp, no matter what our current state may be. This is something that is given to us only if we choose to take it, but it is free and freely given. All you have to do is believe it.
My experience of Judaism so far has been interesting, and I'm going to explore it pretty much for the rest of my life, as I am married to a Jewish woman and by lineage have given life to two Jewish boys. How does this affect my belief in God or anything else? Well, time has only to tell on that score. I'm not likely to lose my skepticism, nor my desire to connect with that deep spiritual experience -- those are integral to my core. What I find that I have been lacking in my previous explorations is a certain honesty with myself and with others that I really don't know where my belief and faith stand. When you are trying to join a club, you pretty much try to act like a club member. In this case, I'm not sure I want to join the club or not -- but I'll come for the food and entertainment. I am going to enter into the exploration of the Jewish spiritual experience at a deeper level than I have in years previous, but I'm also going to enter into that exploration with complete honesty that I really don't know whether or not I believe in God, and I don't know what that means. I hope that in that honesty, I can find illumination in one form or another. And in the meanwhile, I will continue to enjoy the sermons and the real-world connection they have in my every day life. If anything, I will learn at least one way to live a good life. One set of moral strictures to follow. One compass that I can choose to follow or not. Who knows -- maybe along the road I'll catch that slippery fish from time to time, and gaze headlong into a solid belief. I doubt I'll be able to hold it for too long at any given time, but I'm open to the possibility.
Well, if you've actually made it to the end of my post, I thank you for following my ramble. It took me several hours to get it all out, and I know I've missed some important points along the way. I'm likely to continue on this theme from time to time as we enter into Yom Kippur next week and beyond. It's a major theme of my life, and I think for once I'm going to engage with it directly, openly and honestly. We'll see what comes of it.
You are the Fool card. The Fool fearlessly begins
the journey into the unknown. To do this, he
does not regard the world he knows as firm and
fixed. He has a seemingly reckless disregard
for obstacles. In the Ryder-Waite deck, he is
seen stepping off a cliff with his gaze on the
sky, and a rainbow is there to catch him. In
order to explore and expand, one must disregard
convention and conformity. Those in the throes
of convention look at the unconventional,
non-conformist personality and think What a
fool. They lack the point of view to understand
The Fool's actions. But The Fool has roots in
tradition as one who is closest to the spirit
world. In many tribal cultures, those born with
strange and unusual character traits were held
in awe. Shamans were people who could see
visions and go on journeys that we now label
hallucinations and schizophrenia. Those with
physical differences had experience and
knowledge that the average person could not
understand. The Fool is God. The number of the
card is zero, which when drawn is a perfect
circle. This circle represents both emptiness
and infinity. The Fool is not shackled by
mountains and valleys or by his physical body.
He does not accept the appearance of cliff and
air as being distinct or real. Image from: Mary
DeLave http://www.marydelave.com/
Which Tarot Card Are You?
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