Posted in Quotes

Loveable

As I just wrote, things have been a bit on the down side for me over the past couple of the weeks. On Friday, I went to the library, something I do weekly, and I saw this book “Loveable: Embracing What is Truest About You, So You Can Truly Embrace Your Life”, by Kelly Flanagan. It immediately caught my eye, because well, something I have been thinking about a lot is “not being enough” and how lonely I am, and I guess really questioning my being loveable. I debated a bit about taking it out – is it going to be super cheesy? Does it mean that I am really sad or desperate that I need to read such a book? But I decided that I would take it out, and see what happens.

The truth is, this book, although at times a bit cheesy – was exactly what I was feeling. At times that was scary to read a page that I so completely identify with. There were things that I noticed in the book that we were speaking about in CPE – both in process group and in supervision. Maybe I am in a different head space so I am understanding it better or maybe it was just explained in a way that I connected with more. Although it doesn’t make it any easy to trust and change.

For the most part I do agree with the author. The one thing I do have an issue with, is that he talks a lot about finding it within one’s self how loveable they are. I want to say back to him (and maybe I will actually write an email) is that is all well and good, but if you don’t at times feel like you are loveable to others, it is really hard to keep up.

But I would say all in all, it was a really beautiful and meaningful book (yes, he does talk about Jesus and Grace – and I just took it as part of his theology, and wondered how this would read as a Jewish book). Here are some quotes that I really related to, spoke to me or just liked.

pg. 58 [Talking about anger and what anger has to do with our being – something my supervisor likes to talk about a lot. I know for myself, most of the time I just push away my mad, I wonder what would happen if I actually used it. I do find that when I am mad or angry, people have less patience to listen to me, and so I am less comfortable being angry, if I want people I can’t also be angry…]

Whether we tend to suppress anger or give it free rein, it has devastating consequences. Yet the worst consequence is not what we do ourselves when we bury it, or what we do to others when we don’t; it’s what we don’t allow it to do for us. When we deny or indulge our anger, we don’t give it a chance to be a breadcrumb. We don’t let it lead us back home through the wilderness of our shame and to the warm hearth of our worthiness. So the real question is not “Do you get mad?” The real question, in the words of the beloved Mister Rogers, is this: “What do you do with the mad that you feel?”

Pg. 68 [Breath and just be – that is all you need to do. Oh if only it felt that easy…]

…We don’t need a ladder to construct who we are supposed to be; we need an oxygen mask to resuscitate who we’ve always been. We don’t need to build; we simply need to breathe.

Our breath, it turns out, is one of the best tools we have.

When you breathe, you are not building a breathtaking life; you are simply taking the breath that gives you life. You are not moving up; you are settling down. You are not trying to win a trophy; you are simply being you.

Can you sense what a great act of faith this is? To stop all, of your doing and to simply breathe, even for ten minutes, when you still believe your doing is what makes you worthy? To quit performing while you’re still wondering if your performance has been acceptable? There’s no to-do list for this kind of moment, because there is literally nothing to do. In fact, the task is to slowly settle into doing nothing so you can experience being something, even while that something remains a mystery to you. And it requires only one thing: you have to dare to believe the something you are is alight with worthiness.

pg. 83 [Love vs. Shame…how can I not listen to the voice of shame….]

Maybe, just maybe, the spark of God at the center of you doesn’t just glow; it also speaks. Unceasingly. Of your worthiness. Maybe the spark of the God-who-is-love is always telling you about the lovely soul you are. To hear this voice of grace is to be loved and to know the name of the character you are in the story you are living. It’s the name you were given before all other names.

You are Loveable.

The problem is, somewhere along the way, we stopped listening to this voice of grace. Or rather, we began listening, instead, to the voice of shame. It’s the choice we made before we knew there was a choice to make. We chose to quit listening to the voice telling us we’re lovely and started listening instead to the voice telling us we’re a loser. That;s how we forget who we are. But it is also how we remember who we are – we don’t have to try more strenuously; we simply need to listen more closely…

pg. 86-87 [Hearing the “voice of the spark” is not easy at all…]

When you first hear the voice of the spark within you, you probably won’t unwrap it and receive it like a gift you’ve given yourself. Instead, you may pull back a piece of wrapping paper, glimpse the gift inside, and drop the love-package in shock because it is too surprising. Too much. Too good to be true. When you choose to listen to the whisper of worthiness, your first impulse may not be accept it. A vast ocean of love will open up inside of you, and it might seem like a mirage.

You may cling, at first, to the desert of your shame.

You may look at your darkness and decide it’s too black for there to be any light underneath it. You may look at your mes and believe you are too broken to be beloved. Or on the other hand, it’s possible it will feel so good that you will feel guilty – it might feel wrong to feel so worthy. You might think yourself cocky and arrogant.

…Just receive. The great theologian Paul Tillich described this experience as well as anyone when he wrote: “A wave of light breaks into our darkness, and it is as though a voice were saying, ‘You are accepted. You are accepted, accepted by that which is greater than you, and the name of which you do not know. Do not ask for the name now; perhaps you will find it later. Do not try to do anything; perhaps later you will do much. Do not seek for anything, do not perform anything, do not intend anything. Simply accept the fact that you are accepted.’ If that happens to us, we experience grace.”

pg. 105 [In order to connect with others we need to find that place that is common – many times that is the brokenness – but that place can also be holy]

As our incident unfolds and grace becomes the eye with which we see the world, as well as ourselves, comparison gives way to communion. Our minds give way to our hearts. The mind is complicated, but the heart is not. When our minds crack, they fall apart, but when our hearts break, they break open. And when our hearts break open, they get flooded by commonality. 

When we allow our inner voice to become our inner eye, we begin to trust-fall from a psychology of competition into a spirituality of commonality. It is a spirituality of fallibility, of broken ground, which is always common good and, thus, holy ground. Our  mutual fallibility and fragility become the bread and wine of our communion. We trust-fall into our common ground and, when we land, we discover we’ve fallen right into the arms of our worthiness, and the worthiness of everyone around us.

Pg. 113

All I ever wanted was to belong, to wear that hat of belonging – Anne Lamott

Pg. 119 [Finding a place to belong to is the scariest thing. There is the risk of rejection. Not trying can hurt less then being rejected out right – at least I can then blame myself. But connecting is so important. Oh how this is the thing I am missing…]

…Now that we can hear the voice of grace and have a steady, sneaking suspicion we might actually we worthy, a part of us will want to remain there, to simply enjoy our enough-ness, and set up camp in act one. It’s safe. Secure. There is no risk.

Except there is.

It’s the risk of not finding the people to whom you belong.

You’re wired to belong, to enter into community, to join and be joined, to be one with something bigger than yourself. You’re wired for relationship. The second act of life is when you find your people and begin to truly enjoy them. But like the good second act of any story, it won’t be easy – you face danger, the action rises, the stakes get higher, the subplots get complicated, and the tension ratchets up.

In act two, you find true belonging by learning how to hold on to your worthiness while venturing out into a world that seems to be doing its best to take it from you.

Pg. 122-123 [I’m learning slowly that the ways that I have protected myself from bad, is also what has kept me from good. But it is hard to not trust that it might not be so horrible.]

The ego is like a castle with three parts: walls, cannons, and thrones.

Walls. When our tender hearts first experience rejection and shame, we build walls around our souls to keep people out and to keep ourselves safe – walls that look like silence and avoidance, or pretending and people-pleasing and public personas, or giving in and fitting in instead of standing up and standing out. Typically our ego walls develop sometimes in elementary school, right around the time we become aware other people can judge us and critique us and belittle us with a single word, or even a simple look.

Cannons. The walls of our ego are a good defense, but the best defense is a good offense, so we eventually add ego cannons to our ego walls. For some of us, ego cannons are violent – lots of fists and fury. But for most of us, ego cannons take on more socially acceptable guises: blame, condemnation, resentment, retaliation, and gossip to name a few…

Thrones. When our ego cannons inevitably backfire, leaving us lonelier than ever, we try a different tactic. We build ego thrones on which to sit, and we fancy ourselves royalty. We construct our thrones out of power, possession, and prestige. We find something to win or someone to dominate…

And it is also among the most common causes of suffering in the world. The self-protective ego keeps us isolated and alone, deprived of the authentic belonging we all desperately want and need. It creates division and leads to violence of one kind or another…It keeps us from knowing who we are who our people are, and what we’re here to do.

pg. 125 [YES! I’m learning this one too. It is up to me to allow people in…it’s just working out the rusty chains to let the drawbridge down…]

In a castle, the drawbridge is a point of vulnerability, a passageway through which the castle inhabitants  have contact with the outside world, and one that permits the outside world to enter the castle. However, a drawbridge is always controlled from the inside. No one can force us to lower our defense and step out of our ego. It’s up to us to let down our drawbridge so our soul can roam freely.

pg. 165 [I miss the people who make me feel like way, and I hope that I can find others who do the same.]

… because home is the place of belonging where someone loves you enough to fan the flames of the spark that has always been alight at the center of you.

pg. 169

Everyone has been made for some particular work, and the desire for that work has been put in every heart. – Rumi

Pg. 180-181 [I remember having a conversation in college about how does one choose what good to do in the world. It makes me think about the things that I am looking into for next year. I do like being in the hospital, I feel mostly light. People tell me that when I talk about old people it’s when I light up, and it is most definitely something that has been sticking to me for as long as I can remember. Maybe this is what I should be pursuing…but that idea really scares me, because it might mean building something from nothing alone or moving to somewhere that I don’t really want to be living… and it is definitely not being in the spot light of communal change…]

The voice of shame says our passions, if they are going to matter, must be earth-shattering or world-changing. It subtly substitutes performance for passion and then pawns it of as the real deal…

This is what passion is not…

Passion is not about saving the world. In the words of author Anne Lamott, “Lighthouses don’t go running all over an island looking for boats to save; they just stand there shining.” Passion is about simply letting the light within you shine in the things you do. Our passions are not necessarily epic. They are not always big world-changing things. They’re just things that won’t go away, things that won’t leave us alone…

Passion is not about inspiring anyone else…our passions don’t have to inspire anyone else; they just need to breathe new life into us. 

Passion is not necessarily a career. …Fundamentally, your passion is not about making a living; it’s about living with the eyes of your soul wide open.

Passion is not the sole possession of privileged people. 

pg. 183

Don’t ask what the world needs. Ask what makes you come alive, and go do it. Because what the world needs is people who have come alive. – Howard Thurman

pg. 198 [I feel like when I was younger I had the courage to just do. I saw something and created. I did things that my heart lead me to. But then, I don’t know, maybe I felt like it was too much, or I was too alone, or it just became too hard, but I do it less. I haven’t started something from nothing in over two years. I haven’t created any theatre or art in that time either. Maybe doing all this processing will give me the courage to try again… or maybe (hopefully) I will learn what my passion is, and be able to go in that direction]

To have courage is simply to be who you are at your core and to follow your passion. It’s not a character trait; it’s a direction. People aren’t born with courage; people are born with passions – things we’re here to do. Courage is simply the decision to move toward them. So, true courage, to the observer, might look quite mundane, because it’s ordinary people doing the ordinary things they are here to do.

pg. 217

You do not have to be good.

You do not have to walk on your knees

for a hundred miles through the desert, repenting.

You only have to let the soft animal body love what it loves.

Tell me about your despair, yours, and I will tell you mine.

Meanwhile the world goes on.

Meanwhile the sun and the clear pebbles of the rain

are moving across the landscapes,

over the prairies and the deep trees,

the mountains and the rivers.

Meanwhile the wild geese, high in the clean blue air,

are heading home again.

Whoever you are, no matter how lonely,

the world offers itself to your imagination,

calls to you like the wild geese, harsh and exciting –

over and over announcing your place

in the family of things. – Mary Oliver, “Wild Geese”

 

 

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Posted in Life

It’s a Start

So I’ve been kinda down over the past couple of weeks. A bit is because of dealing with difficult things at work, but a large bit is just feeling lonely. (Yes, I actually had a real conversation during supervision about everything).

So after just feeling bad about myself I did some stuff this weekend, and I feel a bit lighter:

  1. Read a book, “Loveable: Embracing What is Truest About You, So You Can Truly Embrace Your Life” by Kelly Flanaegan (I will write more about that later)
  2. Signed up for TWO mixers this week. One is drinks run by the JCC and one is a cooking and dinner thing by Saw You at Sinai.
  3. I’ve decided that I want to do modern dance, and started looking around. It might be that I have to do something else, but I think that I will resign up for Classpass and just go out and try new things and new places.
  4. I tried to go to a dance performance last night, even though I had no one to go with, and it was a bit more than I wanted to spend (when I got there tickets were sold out – new lesson to actually start living by again: if I want to do something, do it, stop waiting around to see if there is something better). I should spend money on things I want, not only on singles events.

So here is to trying new things.

Shavuah Tov & almost Chodesh Tov!

Posted in CPE

My Supervisor Will Be Proud – Work is Making Me Feel

I started crying in shul on Friday night.

This is not a usual occurrence for me – especially not during Kabbalat Shabbat. Being in shul made me homesick for Israel and my community there. It was the first time that I felt davening like that in a while, and it made me miss everything.

As I was missing Israel, I starting thinking about a family in the hospital. They are Israeli and currently in the hospital, in a lot of pain, both physically and emotionally. Not only are they injured, but members of the family died, and the patients are only finding out now, almost 3 weeks later that they are no longer alive. I started thinking about this family because I started thinking about Israel. They reminded me of Israel, because as I was sitting in the family room with them, I just felt like I was back there. There was just something about the way the were and how they interacted with me, that made me think of being back. And that made me homesick.

But in my homesickness, while I was davening, I was thinking about the great loss that this family is going through. I can’t imagine what it must feel like to lose half my family and to be in the hospital in pain. Being a father, both mourning the loss of my wife and children, but being there to take care of my children who are in the same unit as me, with burns and other injuries. Being the daughter knowing that my mother and siblings died, and somehow I survived. Knowing that this is just the beginning of a drastic change in life.

And I am meant to be a chaplain to this family – both the patients and those caring for them. I went to a family meeting, and the doctors and nurses and social workers are really great, but I kept on asking myself, who am I to be here. What am I going to do for them? Do I really know anything? Yes, I started to make a connection with the family, so maybe I do, but still I doubt. And so I sat there crying in shul.

I also started thinking about a woman that I met this week. She has colitis, which she has been dealing with over the past 17 years. But now she has breast cancer. She was in the hospital because of a flair up, and might need surgery, but with the chemo it is even more complicated. As I sat with this woman during the week she told me how alone she is. How all of her family is dead and she doesn’t really have any friends. She has a boyfriend, but he is blind and ill, and is now taking care of his own mother, as she just suffered a stroke. So she needs to do everything herself – her laundry, her shopping, taking out the trash, getting to the hospital. She knows that when she goes home there is rotting food in the apartment, because there was no one else to clean it up. That when she is not allowed to use one of her arms to lift heavy things, and she has a bad back, she still needs to be the one to do her laundry. Even when chemo drains her of energy, there is no one to make her a cup of tea or make sure she is doing well.

And then I was at the shul dinner, and gave up my seat so my friend could sit next to a woman he is pursuing, but then I couldn’t find a seat. There was no one else that I knew that had a seat next to them. Every table was full of people that were already friends with one another, and there were just no open seats. I finally found a table in the back of the room. It was the the table of the older single women and the one creepy guy. The one’s that are in their late 30’s still going to 20’s and 30’s events. The table that knew no one that actually lived in the area. The table that no one was going to notice or stop by and speak to. And so I just felt alone.

I tried to speak to them, and they are nice, and doing cool things in the world. But all I kept thinking is why is it only the creepy guy that is willing to talk to me. Why is it that I always find myself at the table no one else wants to be at, why am I the one the gets kicked out and forgotten. I again feel like I am invisible.

I did try to speak to other people at other tables. But I would go say hello, and then the conversation would go on without me, as if I didn’t exist.

I’m not supposed to feel sad and rejected. If I am, then it is my fault. And there was no one to say anything to. No one that would understand and listen to the great pain I was in. So I just left. To go home to my cold bed, and pray that in the morning I would feel better.

Being completely alone is my greatest fear, and I couldn’t help but overly identify with this woman. What if that is what my future will look like? Now, I know that I do have friends and family (thank God). And there are people who would be there for me, if God forbid something happened – but I still couldn’t help thinking about how alone I have been feeling, and what if I was in her situation.

Today in shul I started tearing again. I still was thinking about this woman. But then I thinking about this Israeli family. And then I was thinking about this Israeli woman that I worked closely with at the beginning of my residency. And I started to wonder, is this why I am here? These are two pretty big cases that my religiosity and nationality are really helpful into being present, and I can’t help but wonder what would be happening if I wasn’t at the hospital this year.

It is not to say that I think I know all or am amazing at what I do. I am just thinking about the idea of feeling like I am in the right space – or maybe it is that I am just looking for a sign that I am in the right place, even though I am still feeling lonely.

My supervisor wants me to feel when I go into spaces, and I think this is what happens. I am still able to be present – well, I think I will be (I guess I will see what happens when I get to work tomorrow), but I think that during my down time, especially when it is big things like loneliness it might just be playing in my head, because it really is (apparently) something I am struggling with greatly right now .

I need to find a way to not feel lonely.

Well, I guess this is enough rambling for right now. I pray for the speedy recovery of these patients and all those who are in need of healing at this time.

 

Posted in Life

Waiting for the Snow

Every time there is about to be a snow storm – in all the cities I have ever lived – the city feels funny right before it happens. There is a feeling like the city is holding it’s breath, just waiting to see what will happen. Each time not remembering what it was like OR knowing that the snow is magical and dangerous and changes everything that it touches.

The city is full of excitement and anticipation – we are going to have snow. Lots and lots of snow, according to the weather channels.

People made sure that they had essentials in their homes. Shelters opened for all those who do not have a house. Schools are closed already.

And it hasn’t even started snowing yet. It’s not cloudy outside. It’s not much colder than it was earlier today.

But the snow is coming.

It’s all everyone can speak about or post about. It’s the upcoming snow. People posting pictures of it snowing in places that it does not normally snow. I think about how it might actually be fun in a weird way, to be stuck in the hospital during the snow – there seems something special about it.

How much snow will there really be? What should we do on the snow day? How will I get to work tomorrow? Will my commute really take much longer? Will the buses be running or just the subway? Will I have to sleep at the hospital tomorrow night? Will I sleep there because I can’t leave or because someone needs to be on call?

And yet, as I am about to fall asleep, there is nothing. It is dark outside. The streets are bare. Maybe it is slowly getting colder.

But I’m sitting in anticipation – knowing or hoping –  and imagining that when I wake up everything will be white, and quite, and have that special feeling that only happens when the world is covered in snow.

 

Posted in Life

Alone but Not On New Years

I didn’t know what I was going to be doing for New Years. I actually was not invited to a single party or event, and I really didn’t want to spend it alone (this week has been a lot of alone feeling). Anyways, so I do what I do often, and I posted on Facebook about what to do. Some told me to go to Times Square, some told me to do anything BUT go to Times Square. Someone invited me to go to fireworks, but it was the start of a night run, so I would have to walk home alone, as she was going to be running. And then someone that I went to college with invited me to come to her house and go with her to their neighbors.

I chose to go to my friend’s both because I didn’t want to be outside for hours when it was supposed to be 7F (that sounds nuts and I’m super impressed with everyone who did stand outside all night) and because really, I wanted to be around people, I wanted to go to party – I didn’t really want to just watch fireworks and then go home.

So that is what I did. I went to my friend’s house. I work closer to them then to my house, and because the roads get a bit crazy I went to them straight from work (it was a good thing that I wore a cute dress that day). We figured that we would have dinner together and then go up to the party. We searched and finally found a Kosher pizza place that would deliver, and just chatted for a while.

She told me that she is pregnant – which I was very excited about for her, as last year she had a miscarriage. We spoke a bit about other parts of life – work, my dating/lack of dating, the news. Her husband was there to just chilling. I do like them, but at times I find them closed and expected a lot from others, sometimes even looking down at them. They were not the first people I thought of to hang out with, but they were the only ones to invite me out.

So after eating pizza we went up to their neighbor’s for a party. I knew NO ONE. The people at the party mostly work in the film/TV world and are not from the Orthodox world (or potentially even the Jewish world). And it was SO nice to hang out. It felt so calm and welcoming. Even though people knew each other from the past, they were more than happy to bring new people into the conversation. As the night went on and I spoke to more and more people, it turned out that there were a number of people there that did not know the host and only knew the one person they came with.

Well, my friend and her husband left the party at one point. She wasn’t feeling well, they were worried about people smoking and the effect on the fetus, and honestly I don’t think it was so much of their crowd. They told me that they wanted to leave and it was only 10. At first I debated about staying vs. leaving – even though I really wanted to stay, but I didn’t want it to be weird – both that I am staying at a party that I know no one and that I am ditching them to stay at this party with strangers. They told me to stay, and ended up staying for a bit longer – although I am not sure how long.

There were times through the night that I felt a bit sad. I was sad that it was so hard to find people to do things with for New Years. I was sad that the place I was celebrating was with a room full of strangers, a marker that I am still not settled and I am still very much alone.

But for the most part I actually had a really great time. It was fun to play pictionary, calling out ridiculous things. It was fun to be with people who do different things in the world and are nice and not only interested in the people they knew.  It was fun to dance and drink. It was fun to meet new people and to just be.

And so we all counted down and at midnight everyone just hugged everyone. These people I had only met hours before, we were hugging and cheering. Lighting sparklers, taking pictures and dancing as if we have known each other for a while.

And then I had to go. I didn’t want to, I was enjoying being with other people. I was enjoying being in a place that I did not feel judged or looked down upon or felt weird. I was enjoying people who are different and creative and like to try new things and meet new and different people. But my friend wasn’t there and texted that she wasn’t feeling well, and I figured I should get my stuff. So reluctantly I said goodnight. If I was better at doing things, I would have tried to give my number to a guy that was just fun (I didn’t even speak to him all that much, but he was fun to interact with), but I didn’t.

So I left the party and went in the elevator alone, to go home alone. I got my stuff and went to the bus.

To my surprise there were people from the party outside and even went on the bus with me, and that was nice. And then I switched buses. The woman who got on the bus behind me was hysterically crying. There were only about 7 people on the bus, it was 1:30 AM and honestly, I was unsure of what to do. I know it is New York and you are supposed to ignore people, but she looked so upset and hurt. So, I stayed true to myself and started talking to her (thank you CPE for making talking to strangers really easy). She had just received a call about the crash in Costa Rica and found out a camper of hers died. The whole story is heart breaking, families just wiped out while on vacation. I was happy that I followed my heart and spoke to this woman. It turned out that we had met one another 4 years ago, but even if we hadn’t there was a visible difference in this woman from when we started talking to when I had to get off the bus.

And then I got off the bus and went home to my empty apartment. I got into my empty bed, which is where I stayed for the rest of the day (more or less).

So yes, a lot of the time I was alone, but there was a lot of time I was with people and I was not alone. I spent time with old friends, I made new friends, and I reached out to a stranger when they seemed the most alone.

I pray that this is the year of relationships – romantic, platonic, familial- all ways of connecting and sustaining connection with other. I hope that this year I am able to learn how to hold on to those who are already part of my life, that I should be in touch and reach out when I am thinking of them, and to allow them to care for me and be present in my life. I hope that I am able to push myself to meet new people and get into new situations, even when I am scared, nervous, or tired. And I hope that I am able to be there for those in need, that even though I am in New York and care for people in the hospital, I hope I am still able to hold out my hand to others and help care for them.

Here’s to 2018!

Posted in Daily Prompt

How I Almost Got Set Up With a Doctor by a Patient: A True Story

I am not great at dating. I still have a very hard time finding anyone even to go for coffee at Starbucks with – I’m not even talking about long term relationship material. And yes, I am on websites and apps, and I even talk to lots of people, even people who set people up all the time (really I might have to start paying someone, because apparently I am not able to do this without money). Anyways, sometimes, rarely there is a random person who I meet who tries really hard to find me a mate.

Now this isn’t the first time in my life. About 7 years ago I was walking in the streets of Jewursalem to get to shul, and I ask some lady for directions. Then we get to talking, and she wants to set me up with some guy she knows. Me being me, I said, sure why not. Now it was Shabbat, so there was no way for here to get my information, but I told her where I was studying, and honestly, I thought I would never hear from her again. But then the next day I had school, the secretary brought me a message with this woman’s phone number. So that night I called her, and she decided that actually it was a different guy she wanted to set me up with – and I just said yes. Now I did meet that guy. He was nice – but super boring. But I was thankful to this woman because she actually did what she said she was going to do, and he was even attractive!

Well, now here is this story. So I am working in a hospital as a chaplain, and I meet lots of patients. There are a few patients that come in and out, and so there is a chance that I will meet them again.

I met Mrs. G about a month ago, she requested a Jewish chaplain so I went, she wasn’t on one of the floors that I cover, so I saw her once and didn’t really think more about it. Well, just this past week she was back in the hospital and on my floor. I saw into her room, and went to say hi. And then here is the conversations:

Mrs. G: Oh Rabbi, it is so good to see you. I’m back again. So, did Dr. A find you?

Me: No. Who is Dr. A?

G: Oh, he is this very nice, young doctor. He always came to see me the last time I was here, and I told him to try and go to the pastoral care department and find Rabbi L.

M: Oh…

G: Yes, he is very smart. He did med school in the Carribbean, and now has a fellowship here, he must be very smart. And he is good looking. And of course he is Jewish. And single. He always came in with Dr. L, but he is nice to. I didn’t want him to feel left out, so I asked Dr. L about his marital status too, and he is actually engaged. I then didn’t feel bad about telling him to try and find you. It is a shame that he didn;t. Well, maybe you can find him?

M: Do you have his first name?

G: No… but if he comes back around I will be sure to tell him to find Rabbi L. I am looking out for you.

Well, that was last Monday. I went to see her on Wednesday and she had new news for me.

G: Rabbi, it is great that you came. I called the front desk to see if you were around today, and they were not sure. Anyways, I met another very nice doctor the other day, Dr. P. He is Jewish and from Baltimore. I didn’t get a chance to ask him if he is single, because he was in here with this other doctor, and I didn’t really like him, and I didn’t think it would be right to have such a conversation.

M: Oh

G: Yes, but Dr. P is in cardiology. He is very nice, actually much nicer than Dr. A. I will try to see what I find out, and you should see if you can find him.

M: Thank you

Well, besides for this being really funny that a patient is trying to set me up with her doctors. I can only imagine the conversation she is having with them – or the conversation we would end up having if we ever crossed paths…

It sounds like one of those romance novels or movies – like it shouldn’t happen. But who knows – maybe I will meet Dr. A or Dr. P, and maybe she is my matchmaker.

All I can say is thank you Mrs. G for trying so hard, and really going out of your way to help me find someone.

via Daily Prompt: Almost

Posted in Daily Prompt

Bundle Up

The weather over the past couple of days has been freezing! I mean really cold, like in the middle of the day today it was 17F (-8C).

Now the is something to walking a bit outside in the very brisk cold. But after a few moments, no matter how many layers you might be wearing it is just cold. Anything that isn’t covered with winter wear kinda goes numb.

And while outside, all I want to do is curl up in cozy clothing. Sweatpants and sweatshirts. Fuzzy socks. Warm and cozy blankets.

It makes me miss the days when I was a kid and we would light a fire in the fireplace, and just sit there snuggling up and enjoying the warmth, and sometimes eve roasting marshmallows.

Last night as I was curling up in bed, the house still a bit chilly (it turns out one of my roommates that went away left her window open and the heat off so the living room was freezing), all I wanted was someone to curl up with me and keep me warm. I wanted to feel the heat and connection of another person.

I wanted to feel wanted and to be touched. It is a type of coziness that blankets can’t bring.

via Daily Prompt: Cozy