Hello to body. Hello to self. Hello to dreams and lingered memories. Hello to peaceful stares at the sunset dimming over the pacific ocean. Hello to ice creams in waffle cones. Hello to typing, and feeling, and moving my fingers at the speed of light. Hello to time sending a message. Hello to the little person drumming on my heart. Hello to feelings of worry, of angst, of drama, of sadness, or despair. Hello to self in all its misery. Hello to love in princess crown. Hello to desire in her red lush feathery self. Hello to political debates and fiery feuds about the state of society. About dictatorships. About democracies. About everything that lies in between. Hello to jokes and even the fart jokes that I can't stand. Hello to eye rolls. And judgements. And self-hate. And self-beating. And self-questioning. And self-curiosity. Hello to CURIOSITY. Oh, hello to you darling. And to you little red cells. And to blood showing like an enigma in an ultrasound. And to breath. Hello to breath. Hello to breathing on another human's body. Hello to flipping pancakes. Hello to breakfasts. Hello to families. Hello to change. Hello to change. Hello to change.
What is this feeling... this quest... this melody... It rings in my ears. LOUD. Echoes, lingering, trailing like a vibration of a sweet orgasm after a thousand years of celibacy. What is this feeling called? Peace? Calm? Content? Perhaps it has no name. Perhaps it shouldn't be written about. Thought about. Talked about. Perhaps a feeling just has to be FELT. Through the language of the heart.
What honor can I give a feeling other than just to FEEL it. What good would it do to analyze it. To dissect it. To judge it. To suspect it. What value would be in debating it. We ponder over the smallest things, but it's the big ones that we overlook. Without this feeling - who would I be today. The closest I have found to name it, is to call it HEART FELT.
It is THIS feeling that I love the most.
Word Of The Day
* The time or date (twice each year) at which the sun reaches its maximum or minimum declination, marked by the longest and shortest days (about June 21 and December 22).
Winter Solstice has begun. And with it my quest for solitude has grown. It's not the snow on my windowpane or the sound of the wind, because, alas, there are no such things in a southern Californian December, but it rather a mysterious pull into the self.
Into once again go IN.
We are wired to protect ourselves in the wild, and we have gathered in caves in the oldest versions of ourselves, so what remained today - even to this Sunny California resident - is the quest to go IN. Meet with my inner life once again.
Connect. Reconnect. Get to know.
Withdraw from the outside silliness. From the pettiness of society's made-up rules and regulations. The ones who appear more and more on our phone screens, through virtual insanity invented by some of our greatest minds.
The more I tap into the social arena of the status quo of our time - the Instagram, the Tiktok, The Twitter, The news... the more my inner self hides deeper within me, afraid to peek out. She is so wounded and fragile, and the perfection of the outside world shuts her down. That is its only quest. To numb her, in all her might. And perhaps this is why Winter Solstice is here. Right on time. To remind me and her - that we move in cycles. Just like breathing... In and out... in and out... and again. And again. And again... and now it's time to go IN.
Things I Miss From The Pandemic Era
Life has become a bit more complicated, a lot more hectic and whole lotta more social for me lately, and while I am relieved to see life returning and less Covid spreading, there are actually some things I miss from the slower, simpler, scarier 2020:
*No traffic. In Los Angeles, this was a major plus for the brave among us that decided to venture out into the world (with masks and distanced).
*The absence of small talks. Somehow the collective trauma we were experiencing got us to get closer to people even though we were separated and only the Gods of Zoom connected us. Now being back in live events and get togethers, I notice how small talks about the weather or this and that have re-surfaced. Even silly celebrity gossip has come back. I miss the absence of this silly fascination.... sigh...
*Puzzle boards. One of my favorite things is putting together a jigsaw puzzle, and I did quite a lot of that during 2020 as I spent so much time at home without a busy schedule. Somehow puzzles were replaced to me with social gatherings, games on my phone, and busy work and I miss the joy of building a giant jigsaw puzzle.
*Homemade food. Yes, I made banana bread like the rest of yous, but now that life has gotten so busy for me (even too busy to keep this daily blog, sigh...) I rely on ready-made meals to get my through the day.
*Daily routine. I mean, I still have one, but I am much more flexible with it because, um, well, LIFE has become nuts and my celery juice and daily workouts have taken a step back. Even this daily blog suffered from my workaholism taking its front seat. But after a couple of months of letting myself immerse in the madness... I am back baby! Ready to figure out this 'work-life-balance thing once and for all. Routines should be sacred but also... they 'shouldn't' 'should' be anything. Flexibility is queen.
*Connecting to family overseas. I've lived away from my family for many years, but the global pandemic brought us together somehow. Fro the first time in years, we were all experiencing nearly the same thing at the same time. Nowadays, I notice again how hard it is to keep in touch given the time difference and the busy 'life' that seemingly have taken over all of us.
*Domestic bliss. In 2020, my partner and I watched the news together every night, pondering the state of the world, experiencing it together. Making a home for ourselves that no one could visit, but that became out entire world. I miss that. I miss us when there was no one else around and nothing else to do.
Art Of The Day
Yours truly presents...:
This blog of mine has birthed many ideas. Many stories. Many characters. Many words. Many thoughts. Many blurbs. Many nonsenses. And one such idea has found its way beyond the pages of this blog and soon out into the world. My short story 'Rebel Rebel' was reimagined as a short film, and I had the privilege to bring it to life with brilliant cast and crew. This story as an homage to someone who left a mark on me. And what us artists and humans do is ponder on the question of 'leaving our marks', be it by having children and evolve as species, create art that'll hopefully last after we're gone, make a difference by lifting a loved one from a somber place to a possibility of change... leaving our marks on this world and on each other. We are a connecting animal. Being human means to connect to our environment be it outwardly or inwardly. We leave our marks by taking care of each other. Stories are a way for me to do exactly that. And soon 'Rebel Rebel' the short film will have its opportunity to leave a mark.
To know more about the film take a look here and to support our fundraising campaign, donate here.
Word Of The Day
*Freedom from disturbance; tranquility.
*A state or period in which there is no war or a war has ended.
Growing up in turbulent middle east, PEACE is a notion talked about again and again, and yet seems like an unattainable dream. An imagined reality simply too good to be true. Ironically, PEACE is also said again and again as both words in Hebrew and Arabic for HELLO also mean PEACE. But what's interesting to me in this definition above, is that FREEDOM is also a meaning of peace. The absence of peace keeps us caged in turbulence, in disturbance, in war. Be it outward or inward. Maybe this 'world peace' we long for can only start at home: INSIDE. Peace within us, in its most Zen tranquility. Inner peace. Freedom within.
What DISTANCE is
You are sitting next to me right now
But it would take a hundred light years
To travel from my heart to you.
I close my eyes
And imagine a world without name droppers
No Instagram No Tiktok No Twitter
A world without small talks
And lame chats about the weather
A world where silence is not only welcomed
A world without opinions, only thoughts and ideas
Open minded ones
That don't judge, discriminate, ridicule
That don't start world wars and end marriages
That don't impose all kinds of gods
And weird diets
That don't shoot rockets
On some OTHER people
Just because they are OTHERS
I close my eyes
And imagine a world where humans wonder
How to be better humans
Living among other humans
Being, feeling, moving
Like humans do
In their natural habitat: NATURE.
How to be human beings in nature
And then I open my eyes
And see the cages.
We are all prisoners of our own making.
But we can all be free
IF WE ONLY IMAGINE.
Letter To Disappointment
You're my bad. My making. My mistake.
Without me messing up by expecting something from someone some place or some thing, we wouldn't have met now on a late chilly Tuesday night. This time, I summoned you by putting some hope into someone. And boy, I feel you right there sitting heavy on my heart. I feel your cringe worthy self shaking your head at me, as if to say 'I told you so...' And you did. You did tell me so. But I didn't listen. Hope grew strong in me and clouded my judgement. Hope brought along expectation with her, and now I was under their bonded spell. And now, as expected, here I am, tangled with your long and brutal tentacles. As if I was your prey all along, dear Disappointment.
I will not mince words tonight. Nor will I find the good in you, the lesson that you give me with your presence, the meaning that you have. I will not do so because I feel the weight of you tonight and you are heavy. Too heavy for optimism. Too heavy for hope.
The only hope I feel is in that quiet inner child's wish that you had not appeared at all, and that the friend who disappointed me tonight, wouldn't have done that at all.
But alas... neither I or you are time travelers, and wishing is only kept for birthdays and shooting stars. I will feel you and all your weight, and maybe come tomorrow, your weight will be a bit more tolerable to bare.
With you, reluctantly,
Late Night Wonderings
To live in the world without I. What is that like? How does this body of mine feel without attachments? Without history nor future? What takes place of memories in one's mind when there is no I? Or... is there no mind at all then? Is all of our existence the experience of IDENTITY that won't let go of us no matter how much we try.
To live in a world without I. Like a baby, entering the light. Born into an existence and little by little that baby would wear his or hers or theirs identity mask. They'd have their personality. Their traits. Their quirks. Soon there'll be wants and needs. And tantrums. And 'It's MINE!' And love. And hate. And memories. And hopes and dreams. Soon there would be an I in that little person's body. There'll be a mind mostly occupied with itself. With surviving. Survival of the I is the biggest game the mind plays. It's its biggest goal. Quest. Urge. All it craves is to EXIST. The I longs for infinity. Longs not to be forgotten. Tries to hold on for dear life.
Imagine - to live in a world without I.
It is not a question of WHO we'd be. But WHAT.
In April 2020, while experiencing her first ever global pandemic, Tamar Pelzig pledged to write something every day, even if it's only a word, so she welcomed to the world a daily blog to keep her creative writing wheels rolling.
Header Art: Daniel Landerman