MY CREDENTIALS

BS"D

As of today I have completed my training in how to write Sifrei Torah. Tomorrow night, after breaking the fast, my sofer will give me my paper stating so. G@d is great.

My credentials will be as follows:
A soferet certified to write Sifrei Torah by an Orthodox Ashkenazi sofer ST"M of 26 years who was trained & certified in Me'a She'arim & Ge'ulah. A mentor who has gradually midwifed me through this process since the mid-90's. He wishes to remain anonymous for now. He also requested that I not publish the name of his mentor on this blog.
Further mentored in the Kabbalah of the Hebrew letters by Rabbi Dov Laimon, a Bostoner Chasid & sofer ST"M.

I cannot express how grateful I am to G@d, nor how petrified I feel at this heavy responsibility. May awe & humility guide me.

...orach yamim...

[Addendum: under the careful supervision of both my sofrim I have learned out of the following standard sofrut texts: Liqutey Sifrei STaM which includes Qeset Ha-Sofer, Lishkat Ha-Sofer, Qol Sofrim, Shoneh Halakhot, etc; Mishnat Sofrim, Mishnah Berurah, Masekhet Sofrim. Under their tutelage I formed my letters, cut my quill & scored my parchment, B"H.]




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B"H

DESOLATION

Wednesday, September 10th

As I expected, I was up all night - spoke to Joel, finally (sigh - what a relief).
I called my sofer - we're meeting at 12:30 - & he told me the story of David Applebaum & his daughter. So tragic - he was the world expert on how to deal with medical emergencies resulting from terrorist attacks. He'd just come back from a seminar in the US & his 20-year-old daughter was getting married, so he took her out for coffee & dessert to celebrate & have some father-daughter time. They were both killed last night. The wedding was supposed to be today. He'd trained & co-ordinated all the people who raced to rescue him last night, but there was nothing anyone could do.
I talked to Joel again til it was time to go for my sofrut lesson. I told him the story. He was silent & speechless. Particularly about the idea that someone could be murdered on the eve of their chupah.
My sofer said, "better - improvements - not worried - getting the hand of it". Specific improvements are still needed on my Gimel, Tav, Tet, Lamed, Shin & Alef. These adjustments are subtle - we both know that, that I can write kosher just the way I do now, but these changes will improve the beauty & legibility of my script when they are words in sentences :) Which is the next step. Writing not just random words he calls out in the studio or I find in my sidur at home, but writing out full sentences! How exciting! We're going to start reviewing the Halakhah in Chapters 1-12 of the Qeset HaSofer soon...
I ate lunch & decided to check out the Cafe Hillel scene. I figured they'd have it barricaded, which is good, but I decided to walk down the opposite side of the street, just in case. I don't want to get too close. I don't want to *see*. I just have to appraise. It's a primal urge in me. I crept down the east side of the road slowly, not wanting to appear like a lookie-loo, & viewed the scene. There were very tall, powder blue walls put up - wooden, like the type around construction sites, but these didn't have any little square windows cut in them. These had posters proclaiming the murder of David Appelbaum pasted all over them. They reached almost to the very top of what used to be the glass store front - so, almost a storey. The building & what had been the entire patio area was enclosed. The whole stone façade, what I could see of it along the top, where the huge sign used to be, had been blown off by the explosion. There were several young security men in official fluorescent vests standing around & leaning against the walls of the enclosure & the sand-filled waist-high plastic barricades used to block the sidewalk from any pedestrians. I'm really glad the site was so closed. I didn't stop, I just kept going down the road & made a left at the railroad tracks so I could go for a quiet stroll away from the traffic. I don't get out much, with all this homework I have to do...
I got groceries & once again bought the wrong kind of goat cheese. I need to improve my Hebrew.
I made a quick dinner & ate in silence.
I went to sleep. I was so exhausted from being up all night, feeling terror & grief as I listened to the noises outside & watched the images on the news. One person had actually been decapitated by the blast. Medics had to gather up body parts & place them in plastic bags so they could be sorted at the hospital & returned to their families. This is so sickening.
Mirit woke me & we chatted. Her English is amazing! SO great to hear her voice!
I did e-mail & icq - it's my sister Dona's birthday. She's 74.
Joel called to check on me again & sang me to sleep.

B"H

SEWING THE SEEDS OF PTSD

Tuesday, September 9th

Today felt weird & icky & just *not safe*. Very much like the day of the #2 bus bombing in Me'ah She'arim. I walked to the Rova (Jewish Quarter of the Old City) early this afternoon to pray. There were *many* many more soldiers & police out today. They must have some intelligence that someone is walking around with explosives today. OY. I'm used to guns & flashing lights & x-rays & barricades & UN vehicles everywhere, but now it was like we were at war & being invaded...which I guess we are. They were stopping & checking all of the cars moving in or out of the city, not just Arab-owned cars or cars with Palestinian license plates - EVERYONE. They were interviewing each person in every car one at a time & searching everything & everyone - & in a city of, what? Half a million people? That's an enormous undertaking. I'm so glad I walk.
As I crossed Qeren Hayesod & spied a Palestinian flag air freshener hanging from the rear-view mirror of a white Subaru that sped by me...
I strolled through The Sultan's pool/Hell on my way between Yemim Moshe & the Rova & up the corridor of gift shops...did you know they have souvenir shops in Hell also? :) This is quite a place!
I went through the Armenian Quarter to buy a little present for Kyla, a Muslim friend of Joel's & soon mine as well, hopefully. I would've liked to go through the Shuk, but it's just such a hassle for a blonde woman to enter there alone (at my own risk!) & nobody I know will go with me. So sad.
I'd seen this beautiful little ceramic tile covered in Arabic writing, so I brought it to the shop owner & asked to buy it. "What does it say?" I enquired. As I do Arabic calligraphy, but do not, in fact, *read* Arabic, I thought I ought to know exactly what I was buying for my friend. For all I knew, it mught be a barrage of insults to tourists, or anti-Jewish or *something* that would've rendered a meanigless gift for me to give to her.
"It's the Lord's Prayer."
"Ah."
I chose out something else for her :)
The Kotel was *not* blocked off today, so thank G@d I could commune with the glowing stones. "My spot" was even free! I stood thoughtfully with my hands on the warm rock & breathed consciously, gathering the thoughts of my heart so I could bring them to HaShem with greater intention, & hopefully feel some relief from my current fears. I wept.
I strolled back to Yafo - as I passed through the Gate, I spied an Arab woman & her daughter (I assume) crouched under the shade of a tree. The child looked physically to be about 3, but the look on her face made her seem 40. The woman put out her hand & began gently whispering to me in Arabic. She may have only been my age, or a bit older, but her eyes looked a century old. I opened my wallet & poured out all my change, whatever it was, & handed it to her little girl. She placed a hand over her heart & bowed her head, quietly speaking her blessings (?) & gratitude (?) as she extended the other out to me in what seemd like a benediction. I was so touched, I just bowed respectfully back to her & smiled, heading on. I didn't even remember how to say "salaam" to her, I was so moved...
I marched up Ben Yehudah& was encountered by a Charedi man with his tedaqah (charity) box & little red threads & charms he was ready to exchange for a few sheqels. He kept calling to me, "Giveret! Giveret! (Ma'am!) tzedaqah!"
I raised my hand against him & said sorry, that I didn't have - & I really didn't!
"It's a mitzvah!" he called after me. I ignored him. What was I supposed to do? Tell him I'd just given all my coins to an Arab woman?
As I was crossing the street by Moulin, marijuana smoke wafted by - smells like Vancouver...
I spent 2 hours with my sofer today - letters, letters, letters - he re-cut nib - he said I was doing really well, doing excellent - he's still concerned about time frame - but he's letting me move onto words now & not just lines of letters & letter combos. All this as we learned & listened to Chinese lullabyes. He mentioned that perhaps we could get pre-scored klaf - he also teased me about the particular kulmus I was using & how it had become my favorite. "You've grown beyond the quill & have to learn how to let go..."
The Doar (post office) was a circus - after going through the usual security check & bag search & body search & metal detector, I was in a line-up being delayed by a Mexican woman wanting to mail several huge boxes back home. The tellers & she were working back & forth in Hebrew-Spanish-English :) as none of them spoke the same language very well. The one man taking care of her would exclaim each time she co-operated: "Halleluyah! - Barukh HaShem!"
I made dinner & cooled off. I need the air conditioner on practically 24/7.
I went to sleep at 8pm as I was exhausted from being outside in the heat - it was 11:20 when I awoke to sirens & helicopters. I felt sick immediately. I knew something *really* horrible had happened & I could tell it was close. I really needed to know where the pigu'ah was, because sitting inside surrounded by all these scary noises was too much. I got onto ICQ to ask my friends - what's going on? I didn't know if it was really safe to go outside. Joel wasn't at home, so I left a message with his housemate to let him know that I was ok. It was making me crazy to just sit there & not know what was going on or where it was. I just couldn't sit there with all the screaming sirens & terse voices barking out instructions over megaphones. My friends on ICQ told me to stay inside or to go to my sofer's. They were just worried about me & wanted to make sure I was safe. But I hurried out to the main street anyway. My arms were folded hard & stiff in front of my chest as though it were freezing out, but of course it wasn't. I was just afraid of what I might find. I could feel that only making the choice to witness this horror would be a life-changing experience for me & I didn't know how it would affect me. I wonder if this is how Mum felt during WW2. It was just as I'd feared. There were masses of people - every kind of Jew, tons of emergency crews, cel phones, flashing lights making the scene like daylight & the road was chockerblock FULL of people as far as I could see from north to south. I could see it was a block south - didn't go look any closer as I don't need to be a voyeur when people are murdered - I didn't want to *see*. I could barely breathe. I just wanted to know if it was really out there on the street. I didn't go any closer. I came back in, weepy, & called Mum.
I wanted to make sure I could tell her I was ok before she heard about it. I don't want her to worry.
I turned on the news. It was Cafe Hillel that was hit by the bomb. I didn't want to see the pictures of medics gathering body parts - pieces of innocent people who'd been torn apart by the explosion. Knowing it was my favorite local coffee joint was enough. It was the coolest place & my friends & I used to hang out there on the patio. My heart & my guts felt stilled & heavy.
The scene here, even though I didn't "go look", is unbelieveable & it was still life-changing to approach it. I feel sick. I'm going to say tehilim. & weep. I hope my sofer & his family are ok. I'll be up all night. It's too noisy outside my flat & inside my heart to sleep.
"Melekh chaya l'almaya y'mageyn am l'hon m'shacharin." - May The King who lives eternally shield his people who pray to Him. From Yetziv Pisgam.

B"H

RESTLESSNESS

Monday, September 8th

I can't keep up this tight, controlled, repetative work! It's so boring because I can't get into the Zen space it requires & I'm not *doing* anything, I'm just making letters (dayenu!). & they're horrible!
I mean, to an untrained eye they probably look great - seriously. But *my* eyes aren't untrained & neither are my sofer's. There's an empirical standard I must achieve.
I worked myself silly until 11am & then slept til 3 pm

Back into R' Nebenzahl - "One who wishes to check if his soul is following the straight & narrow path should compare it to each kotz (oketz = thorn or in this case serif) & tag (Zayin-shaped crown) of the Torah, to see whether or not his soul is following an identical pattern. Any discrepancy is a sign that he has not maintained his natural sense of "right", A sign that he has followed the majority in his miscalculating ethical standards - & thereby his heart has become misaligned & is no longer attuned to the infinite wisdom of TORAH" p.187
"The essential truth which our Sages teach us here, is that man must choose a profession that will serve to enhance his spirituality - his intrinsic Torah vales & mitzvah observance." p.199
Well, I believe I'm doing both here. At least, I am in that process. Of this I have no doubt. Barukh HaShem.
I heard Coldplay - their song "G@d Put a Smile Upon Your Face"...
I spent a halfhour in my sofer's studio in a critique session - he was quite charitable about the work I did on the watercolour paper. Which I was surprised at, because this is the work I considered particularly sub-standard. & he's very critical - I mean *discerning* ;+> - & exceptionally honest with me about my work, which is like gold to me. We're going to take the next step now...
!!!

B"H

FEAR & VULNERABILITY

Sunday, September 7th

My homework was awful today!
I'm really dissatisfied with my lettering. I mean, I've got the forms, but sometimes a letter or two will start getting inconsistant as my hand tires & it's *so* frusterating. & my spacing needs work. Basically, I'm a perfectionist experiencing The Long Dark Night Of The Soul, so it's Hell. Actually, catching a flick in Hell would be really nice right about now...& it's just up the road...
This Work requires that my lettering is PERFECT. There are 4,000 rules to have memorized - yes, FOUR THOUSAND - before I'll really be knowledgeable enough to write such a holy scroll. At least I'm getting used to the idea that *I* don't have to be perfect, that my soul doesn't have to be. But these sacred letters must be.
Full of fear & nausea once again, I slept on couch til 1 am.
When I moved to my bed, the spooky noises kept me up - so I watched the ginger tomcat fish in the pond below my kitchen window. It was very cute. He was unsuccessful. Lucky goldfish.
I read my R' Nebenzahl book again, looking for a way to ground myself into producing improved lettering.
B'ezrat HaShem

B"H

THANK G@D FOR MY SOFER!

Saturday, September 6th

Ahh...Shabbes :)
I went for lunch to my sofer's & he & his wife & kids were great, as usual - there were the same friends as last week, the the addition of Tzipporah, a beautiful Moroccan woman from Chicago who was a very bright light. She was attending classes at She'arim (Gates), a Charedi (ultra-orthodox) women's yeshivah (seminary) & loving it. She luminous & had the voice of an angel! It was a real pleasure to sing z'mirot (Shabbat songs) with her.
While I was helping my sofer set up for lunch, he'd asked me whether he'd been of help, with his e-mail reply to my questioning of Self. He wasn't sure. I thanked him & told him I was much better, that I *knew* at some point that I was going to have a spiritual meltdown, that I jusy didn't know when, & that it was all well & good. One can NOT (*should* NOT) skip flippantly into such a serious honour as writing a Sefer Torah. There are many levels of preparation & for me, anyway, this re-grounding was one of them. I explained how the task was mountainous to my expressions of faith. He was pouring wine into his kidush cup, listening thoughtfully. He looked up into my eyes & muttered a line from the Sh'ma, "...b'chol levavkha, uv'chol nafshekha, uv'chol me'odekha." - referring to the fact that we *must* serve G@d, "...with our entire hearts, with our whole souls & with every part of our minds." I smiled. He's right. Normally the word for "heart" in Hebrew - "leyv" - is written Lamed-Vet. In the Sh'ma the word for "your heart" - "levavkha" - is written with TWO Vets. Why? This is to recognise & acknowledge that our hearts have 2 inclinations - one that is purely motivated & one that is selfishly motivated. & these words of G@d ask that we use *both* those inclinations in the ways which we relate with The Holy One. So basically what my sofer pointed out to me is that being aware of my shortcomings & "human-ness", is important, but that G@d doesn't expect me to be "perfect" (whatever *that* is!) before I attempt this Holy work.
Thank G@d!
We hung out for a while after lunch & talked about literature & told jokes & then I returned to my apartment for a schluff (nap).
After I woke I continued to read R' Nebenzahl's book, even though it had spun me into my spiritual crisis :) I'm very stubborn!
Shavu'ah tov!
The eveningsa are so beautiful here. Soft & fragrant.
I finished cutting ALL of my quills, even the goose ones, & I re-shrpened the turkey kulmusim (quills) I'd been using. They need to be re-shaped every 10 lines of writing, as they dull quickly. This is very high-maintenance Work :)
Homework
I blogged & e-mailed all night because I got all hopped up on Twizzlers :)

A WORD OF WARNING TO BARCLAY

BS"D


Letters

Editor: Regarding the article about Aviel Barclay ("First woman to write a Torah," Bulletin cover, Aug. 22), feminism has one serious obstacle and it's all a matter of practicality.

For a sofer, ritual purity is essential. As mentioned in the article, no base metals may be used in the production of a Torah, as they would make it ritually impure. What is not mentioned is that the sofer himself must be ritually pure, cleansing himself in a mikvah every morning and being very, very careful of where he goes (visiting cemeteries is out), what he touches and what he eats, so as to not accidentally make his work impure. For two of every four weeks, a woman is ritually impure and may neither touch her sofer-husband, nor work on a Torah, herself.

To make a long story short, I am not in the least implying that a woman cannot be a soferet; what I am saying is that it is not practical. Aviel Barclay may not work on her Torah for two weeks out of every four, nor may she even have it in her home during that same period, lest she accidentally make it impure. It takes a long time to complete an entire Torah and it will take her twice as long as a sofer of equal skill. It's never been a profession that women have been actually barred from doing; it's simply impractical – and thus became tradition.

Congratulations to Ms. Barclay. I think what she is doing is wonderful. In fact, she produced my brother's ketubah. I just hope that this aspect of ritual purity is kept in mind when accepting a large commission.

The original article as published can be found here.

B"H

GEMATRIA OF THE HEART'S PATHS

Friday, September 5th

I'll be 35 years old, G@d willing, when I start writing this Sefer Torah & I will have wanted to do this for 32 years by the time I begin the work.
32 years. 32 is the gematria of lev, heart. The 32 paths of the heart. I believe now that's why this privilege has come to me at this time, because each year since my first inspiration at the age of 3 I've been doing the work associated with each or these paths, climbing that ladder. must look into it further...
I'll begin with R' Areleh Roth.
My sofer dropped by & brought me TWIZZLERS!!! He's the best! I'd e-mailed him about my spiritual crisis & he'd been really helpful. He invited me for Shabbes.
Thank G@d I have such great people in my life that help me take good care of myself!
:)

B"H

ISRAELI LAUNDROMAT HIJINX & SPIRITUAL WALLS

Thursday, September 4th

Did a LOT of lettering today. My hands & forearms are sore...
At 7 p.m. I'm doing laundry a couple of blocks from my apartment & these Israeli teens are making a video!
It was so hilarious, I laugh out loud as the little one with shining brown eyes & brunette pigtail springs for hair in baggy red plaid pyjama bottoms which say "bootylicious" across the butt & a grey baby T climbs inside one of the dryers, complete with Tevas. They take turns climbing inside & videoing each other they all *might* be 15, at most.
I made myself a strong cup of coffee at home. black black. stirred in some White Death (that would be granulated sugar) & got to work.
Felt very weird - almost like I was coming own with a bug or something. I felt a bit nauseous & uneasy. I know I didn't catch a flu from my flights, because they're too long ago now. Sure I had strong coffee with sugar & only a boiled egg to eat, but that wasn't it. Each time I got up from the table I was just a tiny bit shaky. It was almost imperceptible. Something's wrong & I don't know what it is. Yet.

After webbing & blogging, I settled on the chesterfield & began reading Rav Nebenzahl's book on the month of Elul - & how to effectively do tshuvah (after all, repentance is my middle name) & now I understand my problem. I'm selfish. I'm here to do this work for me & not for G@d, to welcome the precious opportunity to perform the special mitzvot required of me while here. I'm taking, not giving. This is a serious flaw. How can I transform this part of my Self?
I suspect that my fears of being physically injured or murdered while I'm here are not just based on the threats that were made against me the last time I was learning with my sofer, but are linked to my lack of chesed in this area, my sometimes patchy faith in G@d (Shoftim 2:10, 12 & 3:2). If only I could find the chesed & the strength to serve G@d in the way that only I am meant to - the whole reason why I walk this Earth - then I would have no need to feel suspicious or fearful of others. I would simply serve & be preserved by the grace of G@d.
Perhaps this is the beginning of the lesson I was meant to learn about myself by coming here, the lesson alluded to in the dream I had the night after I found out that I was definitely coming to Israel. The dream that told me there was a part of myself that was not in tune with G@d & the sacred path I wish to tread. There's been an old spiritual blockage which I haven't *quite* been able to dismantle on my own, due to the pain of the past that turned me into a taker, a taker whom I've mostly turned around & healed, but not completely. Maybe this is it. I think so. I feel so. Thank G@d. Now what do I do?
All I know is that I won't be worthy to write this Sefer Torah until I have healed this wound.
How do I gently open this part of myself which is still protectively closed, still concerned with preserving my Self & my ego above anything else? I don't have a clue how. I only know what. I'm going to go meditate.
All I could do is cry. I was freezing. Sweating. Heart palpitating. & that nasty taste in my mouth...I went into shock. I got under my quilt fully clothed & lay there stiff & straight, shivering, with my hands over my heart, full of dread. I don't know how long for.
Joel called. I cried to him about my revelation. He loaned me all his love & sympathy & told me that I was in the process of becoming the Real Me. Why do I deserve this man? He's so *good*...
As I began to express my experiences, thoughts & feelings to Joel, I cried & came out of shock. Then as I processed my revelation my body became like a furnace, sweating profusely. I was totally overheated so I turned on the fan AND the air conditioner. It was 4 a.m. I still sweated through my clothes & left a puddle on the plastic dining room chair.
I just want to do this work with all the love & respect & consciousness that it deserves. I have to climb out of this chrysalid to do that.

With G@d's help...

B"H

DAZED & CONFUSED

Wednesday, September 3rd

Woke with a start & felt confused, nauseous...couldn't remember when I was supposed to call my sofer - just wanted to sleep some more but knew that I would be disturbed and/or miss out on important commitments.
Ate in a daze. I'm definately experiencing some frightening self-evaluation related to how spiritually worthy I am to do this work. To write this holy Sefer Torah.
I did more homework until a quarter to 1, then systematically went round the flat & hid everything sofrut-related in placed the cleaning lady wouldn't see.
My sofer handled the internet thing for me (Hebrew! Must improve my Hebrew!) & we hung out & chatted over lunch.
Then I did EMAIL @ HOME!!!
Barukh HaShem!
So I have a question: why do all Israeli salads have tons of rosemary & mint in them? Like, TONS! It's unbelieveable...
I fired up Limewire & listened to Stan Rogers sing Barrett's Privateers - funny, this tense history & culture dynamic between the US & Canada is so irrelevant here...
I met my soder in his studio for another lesson. On the wall was a piece he'd done for a local poet:

LEAH
"...But Rachel was beautiful..."
I do what I have to
like an obedient daughter
or a dog - not for your fingers
in my flesh - I watch you
every day as you watch her
Since I'm the ugly one,
the one pushed into your bed
at night when you can't
tell the difference.
I've got another
son inside me, and still
you watch her - she doesn't
sag as I do after each birth
until you fill me again.
why can't you look at me
in daylight, or take
my hand and press it
against your mouth?
I'm not a stone, a shell
your foot rolls over
in the sand - the life
gone out of it
Maybe I am -
Your sons have sucked me
empty, and dull.
I leave your tent at dawn
as I walk to the river where I
throw my clothes off,
and the water shows me
my body floating
on the surface. It shivers
when I touch the blue dome
of your unborn child -
I touch my unwanted self
where the smooth skin
stretches over my breasts,
the silver veins - I'm cold.
I enter the water
As you enter me - quick -
like insects doing it while
they fly - the shock of it
lifts me,
and I swim raging
against the stream

- by Shirley Kaufman

He's pleased with my improvement - a hard admission to win from him. I still have write a *lot* in between sessions & I'm running out of klaf, so I've had to buy the water colour paper he recommended to practice on as I can't afford more klaf right now.
What a great day after all :)

B"H

WRESTLING WITH LETTERS

Tuesday, September 2nd

Called my sofer about our next lesson.
Homework did not go well - each letter gets worse than the previous - confirming that I definitely shouldn't write during a spiritual crisis - I'm so unsatisfied with each letter & word combination that I re-sharpen my quill in between each. The ink is pouring onto the klaf in globs - I deepen the centre cut when it shoots up the shaft like lightening towards my left hand. Scared me. I guess it isn't soft enough to manipulate like this
I spent 2 hours with my sofer listening to his commentary on my homework.

I came home tired & fidgety & wanting to sleep but at 7pm that's just a bad idea, so ate & paced & walked to Russian compound & did e-mail.
A guy tried to pick me up on the way home (returned by 11:30)
Mum called at midnight & we chatted for 1.5 hours. It was really good to connect with her.
Lailah tov!

DEHYDRATION

B"H


Monday, September 1st

When I woke I realized that my sofer hadn't called at 11:30 as he'd said. I ate, showered & generally recovered from being horizontal (thank G@d it isn't any harder for you). I called him at 2 p.m. & he still didn't have his act together. He couldn't meet at 6 because he had Tai Chi at 7. We made the time 5:30, unless he could do it "a drop earlier", in which case he'd call.
Now I can get on with MY day...
I strolled up to Feldheim to check on those book prices for Joel - Shemirath Shabbath & Derekh HaShem. Strolling. Body didn't want to make much forward motion, particularly uphill, so I took it easy as I poured with sweat & drenched my clothes by the time I'd been out 10 minutes.
Living in Israel is like a daily encounter with a stunningly beautiful woman who is intensely passionate & at the same time intensely angry.

When I returned home I ate & crashed from the heat exhaustion - rested for hour & a half before my lesson.

In 1.5 hours we did Quf, Mem Sofit, Mem, Lamed - his wife dropped in a couple of times - he did "alexanders" & instructed me to ignore him as I wrote multiple words which he'd periodically call out from his studio floor.

I'm drinking litres & litres a day & I have no idea where it goes...
I'm *constantly* dehydrated, but still thrilled to be here.
I'm even too tired to read Woody Allen...
So I napped on my chesterfield & journalled.

B"H

BAT OUT OF HELL

Sunday, August 31st

I called my sofer at 6 p.m. I'd called him a couple of times earlier, but it was busy.
So we're meeting at 6 p.m. tomorrow, "...unless tomorrow is very different & we can meet at 5:30 or one pm...I'll call you around 11:30..."
Sigh...
I'm just relaxing & journalling right now. I'll finish my homework in a bit &, depending on how I feel, I'll stroll to the netcafé & Shai Koenig...you know what? Scratch that. No, I'm not going. I want my sofer to fix me up with internet at home tomorrow, so why would I drag my fershtinken carcass all the way to the Russian Compound if I don't absolutely have to? :)
Tomorrow I'll get cash & groceries, then do my laundry (which involves sitting), meet with my sofer & deal with our learning process & my net situ. THEN I'll take care of my web needs, banking, etc. I'll be fine :D

Is HaShem *really* going to let me live long enough to fully enjoy these brakhot (blessings)?

"You gotta have the guts to go & sit out there & do your thing & let people throw rocks & bottles & whatever at you." - Meatloaf

Meatloaf is my hero. How could he know that one day he'd inspire & give hope to a potential Soferet ST"M? May he live a long & happy life...

Did my homework. It was good. ALL of my letters have improved noticeably, particularly Dalet, Bet & Hey. I finally got the hang of the legs on Dalet & Hey, so I'm quite pleased. I filled the klaf with multiple words made up of the letters my sofer has demonstrated for me - the only letters permitted to me. I went crazy on the last two lines & did Alef, Tet, Samekh & Quf. I couldn't stand it anymore. I understand the Zen-like discipline I require of myself to be present with each letter repeatedly in order to beautifully perfect their forms, not just make them kosher, but I'm not quite there yet. I must perfect myself before I can in turn perfect the Alefbet.
I had a war with this current quill. Each time I sharpen it, I take a tad too much off the sides & am left with too narrow a nib width. This means I have to re-carve the whole thing, which takes time. It's fine, because my hand can always use a different activity to balance the constant controlled movements & contracted state it must maintain during the lettering process. A change is as good as a rest. Thing is, when I re-carve I'm so careful to *not* take too much off that I end up with a slightly dull nib, which makes the letter edges less sharp & it's really hard to make the tagin.
Practice, practice, practice.

ECHOING BLACK STREETS

B"H


Saturday, August 30th

*Yawn*. Woke around 9:30 a.m. & puttered about, getting ready in time to make it to Yakar by 10, when Kri'at HaTorah begins. I walked in during the Kohen aliyah, so ayn baya (no problem).
Yakar was nice - nowhere near as crowded as it used to be. It seemed to me that the mechitzah had been moved up somewhat so the women had more room...I sat alone at the front right next to the door on a single chair. I sat quietly & listened to the leyning with my eyes closed, meditating on the letters & their sounds. I davenned with no sidur. I met my sofer outside afterwards & we chatted with an obnoxious little man named who shall remain nameless. He asked me what I did for a living & I replied, "I do what he does - only not as well". My sofer said, "She whines." Then he wanted to know how I got my name, so I put him off. The two of us strolled back to their place via Ehud Olmert's house & a bizaarre few acre garden full of rubble, sunflowers, & this weird pierced-out painted pole construction with a giant set of chimes on a metal frame set into the earth beneath it. Then we started talking about cults. Then we ran into a drunk friend of his - she was quite hilarious. We were never introduced.
Over lunch we all talked about ketubah wording & halakhah (Jewish Ways) & R' Melchior vs. Rav Steinsaltz & legal vs. Halakhic it really got me thinking about equalization in Joel's & my shtar...
After a wonderful meal, I spent the afternoon alone reading "Side Effects" by Woody Allen
After Shabbat I strolled to Qaniyon Malkhah (the big mall) - it was only 45 minutes each way.
Relaxed when I returned home. Scarfed down the remainder of the whole olives & journalled. Did some looking at my Hebrew calendar found Dad's Yahrtzeit - Tishrei 28, so its Parsha is B'reyshit...ugh. This year I get to light the candle the night of October 23rd, when he died.

Looked at my finances. Dismal.

HEALING

B"H


Friday, August 29th/Rosh Chodesh Elul

Did the rest of my alefbet - the last half wasn't quite as good as the first. The letters' lines weren't as clean. I was really in the Zone yesterday when I did the first ones...oy.
Talked to my sofer about meeting today (2:15) & getting ready for Shabbes. He's also going to help me with Bezeq so I CAN FINALLY GET INTERNET AT HOME!!! YAY! He's my hero! :)
Very little Shabbes prep today - I'm sticking close to home so I won't be all exhausted by the time candle lighting comes around.
Learned with my sofer for over an hour. He made me tea & we went over Khaf sofit, Zayin, Chet & Nun sofit. It was good. I have my work cut out for me.
I didn't actually do much else today - just got ready for Shabbat, which didn't require much as I'm going to their place for both dinner tonight & lunch tomorrow, I have my groceries, the cleaning lady did her job (sort of) &, well, really nothing left to do but to fantasize about accomplishing my Work here...

I lit my Shabbat candles. I sat on the edge of my bed & cried for a while, the whole time repeatedly saying "thank you" to G@d for the precious opportunity I've been given by Kadima to come here & learn & then to do this important work over the next year...
I davenned (prayed) & headed to my sofer's. His wife & kids & Noa & I hung out on the mirpeset (balcony) in the nice breeze for a bit, waiting for him to return from shul (synagogue). Then Anat came. They both work with children. Noa spent her holiday in Tel Aviv last week with my sofer's wife. Anat lives in a slum neighbourhood as a part of a community reclamation project where they teach children, clean away the rubble, plant gardens & help job-train the adults. She's quite amazing.
Dinner was great. The company was terrific. I'm so lucky to know such people! Salmon, Golan wine, discussions of all kinds & Qafeh Tourqi (Turkish coffee). & Wild Turkey bourbon, of course :) My sofer finally passed out reading Mishneh Brurah & a book on Japanese culture. I asked him if he was searching for Torah in the Japanese culture & he replied that the trick is to find Japanese culture in Torah...

Shabbat shalom!

THE SINGING SOFER ST"M

B"H


Thursday, August 28th

Brekkie of this great German meusli called "mestermacher" - I wonder what "mester" means? That in Yotvatah yoghurt, a boiled egg & green tea - yum!
I did homework all day - still battling with the tagin (crowns) & okqetzim ("thorns) - serifs, more like) on my letters & making them finer.
I needed to get out, so I walked to the Russian compound for e-mail - there were HUGE billboards everywhere: "Jaffa Road closed to private vehicles" - only police, army & transit. I'm actually getting used to seeing UN vehicles everywhere, too...

Walked home along Ben Yehudah - Chaim Dovid was playing in the band shell they'd erected. Wow. He's one of my fave Jewish musicians - he plays with such an open heart, an open soul. He's really in love with G@d. He's a sofer as well, but I've never learned that from him. I stood in the crowd & closed my eyes, absorbing the vibe, the sound, the atmosphere. This is heartbreaking. The fact that all these beautiful people are risking their lives just by coming to a street fair. That why the streets for blocks around were closed to private vehicles. That's why I had to be searched before I was allowed in.

May we bring peace to each other & ourselves soon...

LEAPIN' LIZARDS

B"H


Wednesday, August 27th

I made some lunch & got ready for my class with my sofer. I arrived at 1 p.m. & his wife let me in: "Mi zeh?" she called down the stairs, "Aviel" I responded, suddenly thinking that I might be early because my brain is so unreliable when I'm tired...oh well, I thought, we're friends anyway, so no biggie, I'm sure.
"Come say hello to the birthday boy", she beckoned me inside. "Aw, jeez - I can't believe I forgot..." I said. So he was was still eating lunch & she got me some water & their eldest child brought me birthday cake. We chatted for a bit about her trip to Tel Aviv with the kids, how her work is going, etc. - she is *very* cool. I really like her a lot.
I happily reminded her that *she* had a birthday coming up in a couple of weeks & she sort of waved it off with a smile.
So I headed down to meet my sofer in his studio & his wife invited me for Shabbes - YAY!
I gasped when I saw the ketubah he was working on on his drawing board - elaborate scenes of crashing waves at dawn, of stags & eagles & *vultures* all surrounded by "papercut" panels on klaf. He mumbled something about a monstrosity. I was speechless with horror.
He showed me the facsimile of a Haggadah thathe'd done & had just dropped off. It was quite amazing - very naive gouache illustrations & his calligraphy. He'd obviously had a little fun with it. The reproduction was so good, you could practically scratch the gouache off the paper :) Then we talked about Woody Allen & he did an impression for me of the Pocket Watch Joke.
We got to work. He panicked today about how much time we have left. I felt pretty unnerved by that, but this is my sofer. "You're leaving too soon," he mumbled. "You said 20 sessions", I countered. He proposed we make a schedule & I agreed - & I'm going to hold him to it for Friday. Once that's set up, I'll call Dov (another sofer who teached women some things, but not everything) & try to get sewing learned...
I was quite critical of my homework & of the work I was doing in front of him. He reassured me that it was just that my quills weren't sharp enough & that the particular klaf I was working on was exceptionally furry & that not to worry - I'd "get" it. That's how you get supportive statements out of him - you criticize yourself before he has a chance to :) He gave me more klaf & I left.
I was home by a quarter to 3, having spent a little over an hour with my sofer on Hey, Yud & Khaf, & crashed out until 6:30. Blah. SO tired...
It was only a 15-minute stroll to the closest mall & when I got to the front door security the two Ethiopian men there tried to pick me up, so I said, "S'licha, medabeyr anglit?" ("Sorry, do you speak English?") They stared & I shrugged. I slipped by them :)
On my way out I ran into Yuri, the security guard from Strudel ("Mike's Place"). We chatted & I headed on.
On my way into my front gate I saw the lizards for the first time up close - they're *so* CUTE! Little & rubbery looking skin & big eyes & pale bands of bare colour...& SUCTION CUP TOES!!! It occurred to me that these wee beasties couldn't possibly be the banging, clawing creatures I hear & feel every night against my walls & roof, so...what sort of animals could be responsible?!?!? I shudder to think!
The stuff of nightmares...

ON ANGELS & SECURITY GUARDS

B"H


Tuesday, August 26th

I'm in a Gevurah (strength) vs. Chesed (compassion) balancing act. Gavri'el HaMalakh (the Archangel Gabriel) was the awesome messenger whose strength put fear into the hearts of those he came to instruct, yet he communicated their mission to them in a way that they could hear it & left them with a sense of peace & direction. I was finally able to define where I'm at after sitting with him in my heart last night. He heard me. I've come here on a heart/Tiferet journey this time, not a head/Keter journey. I've come with a more open heart, with less (no?) arrogance & with my heart ready to overflow with tears at any moment. He told me about myself :) they way only he can. Chesed & Din (judgement). Balance. Black fire on White fire. Correcting letters. Forming them perfectly by adding, not subtracting. Having the CONSCIOUSNESS, the KAVANAH to form them beautifully the first time & not return later to scrape away. So much a metaphor for our lives. ALL our lives.
I was left with a feeling that I have to pour love into this place, while I have the chance, while I'm here. The "Nachazir" chant I learned from Naomi Steinberg came to me & I sang it once. "Nachazir et HaSh'khinah limqomah b'et Tzion uva Teyvel kulah". Let us restore the Sh'khinah to Her Place in Zion & throughout the whole inhabited world. In other words, wherever there are people, let us bring the Peace of G@d's Presence. I'm going to do some chant & breathwork with this later.
I sat & drank my green tea. "Pray for the Peace of Jerusalem"...& all her precious souls. Not just the Jewish ones. I wept.

Yehuda's studio fiasco - I never made it. It was so boiling hot & I was so disoriented by the time I got to the neighbourhood that all I saw was a dirt road here & a dirt road there & I knew I was so close I could've spit on Yehuda's front door, but I gave up & went into that enormous Theatre mall complex for a drink. The security guard didn't just check my bag & metal-detect me, he asked me why I was coming to the mall. I tried to explain myself & he let me through, but only because I'm a non-threatening "Anglo-Saxit"...I ended up staggering home in the oppressive heat through a strange part of Gonen - totally the wrong neighbourhood - & collapsing on my bed. I was damp for the rest of the day, even *with* the air conditioning on...
I took a nap from 3 - 5 p.m. from the sheer exhaustion of wandering in the dusty desert heat.
I hit the local art store to buy this crazy special 3D ruler to do my homework with.
Called my sofer & left a message about when we'd meet tomorrow.
Called Yehuda & got alternative directions from Maurene to his studio. We chatted about how great Shabbes was & how wonderful it is to spend time together again.
My homework manifested as such: Bet is a bit of a battle, but Dalet is coming along nicely. Reysh is more of a challenge than it should be & Vav is only good when I write it larger .

I don't know even what time it was when I was finished my lettering, but it was light out & the birds were singing. Such strange birdsong here...

ON DAVID'S TOWER, FRENCH TOURISTS, PLAGUES, MARRIAGE & MESSIANIC HOPE

B"H


Monday, August 25th

Inbal & I had a great breakfast in my flat this morning! There's nothing like sharing a meal with good friends!

I had a one hour lesson with my sofer. We covered Dalet, Reysh, Vav...I learned also that the turkey quills not just fatter & thicker, but less flexible & if cut shorter/less tapered suit heavy handers like us. Very important to know...

Inbal & I walked to Migdal David (David's Tower) because neither of us had been there before & they had these interactive plays going on on several languages. They had actors in period costumes stationed at various places around the citadel to teach people about the history of that part of the Old City. We were really excited about it, so were very disappointed that the tickets were all sold out. We strolled around the front (free) part of the grounds as they were about to close to the public (read non-ticket holders) anyway. It was interesting & fun, what we *were* able to see, but I'll have to go back again another time.
We were boiling, so we searched the Rova for cold drinks that would pep us up - & we found a place that served qafeh barad @ central square in Jewish Quarter! YAY! I finally asked Inbal what "barad" meant. She said, "Well, it's from Pesach, the seder."
"What?"
"Barad is one of the 10 Plagues - it means 'hail'."
I laughed my guts out! "I'm drinking a Plague? That's *so* GREAT!" We lazed in the shade of the café at our table & just people-watched. It was fascinating. There was a Charedi (ultra-orthodox) guy in the square, out in the boiling sun, with a box of tefilin (phylacteries). On the box it said, "Tefilin - Just do it" with the Nike swoosh. He was stationed there to encourage unsuspecting Jewish men who looked like they weren't observant to put on the tefilin & teach them the blessings. A special kind of person stands out in the midday summer sun wearing black wool & a kippah AND a hat *just* in case the opportunity might arise to help someone do a mitzvah (commandment/good deed), to do kiruv (outreach). Poor guy - the whole time we sat, all the men he approached veered away & ignored him.
There were 2 tables of French (Jewish) tourists near us. That was fun - they looked so happy & relaxed with their kids. I got to eavesdrop a bit, too - my French (being Canadian) is much better than my spoken Hebrew. Inbal leaned over to me & asked in a whisper, "Aviel, what language is that?"
"French."
"Oh. So nice to be able to understand!"
I smiled. I didn't feel like such a Prole now. Still, I must improve my spoken Hebrew ASAP. My reading & writing ain't bad, but that doesn't get you far in a country where everyone is in such a hurry.
After our rest in that rare patch of shade, Inbal & I walked to the Kotel. We came down the south western steps leading to the Plaza & were stopped by a crowd about halfway up. The security wasn't letting us in. There was a bomb that had been smuggled in & they'd cleared the area so it could be safely diffused. We had no idea how long we might have to wait, so we settled in on the steps with the other tourists & pilgrims. More chatting & people watching. A Charedi man in a long black coat approached us with a handful of 10 sheqel coins, shaking them rhythmically. "Tzedaqh, tzedaqah..." he called. He looked at each of us in the face.
"Tzedaqah for a Kallah." he stated. Providing for a bride who is too poor to have a wedding is a very high mitzvah, so I opened my wallet & gave him another 10 sheqel coin. It's not much, but it adds up. He was very happy for my donation. He smiled.
"Thank you. Thank you. Are you married (I was wearing my baseball cap)?"
"No."
"Engaged?"
"Yes." I grinned sheepishly. I still can't believe it.
"May you have a good husband. A good wedding & a good husband." He said, smiling. I thanked him emphatically. I didn't expect a blessing from giving charity - I just did it because it was the right thing to do. How sad, to have the opportunity to marry & have money barring the way. I'm poor myself, so I empathize with this girl, whoever she may be. He kept blessing me as he backed away, respectfully & I continued accepting his wishes for me, making eye contact, until he vanished into the crowd. It was only then that the importance of his blessings really sank in. "May you have a good husband". Suddenly the worlds of difference between a "good" & "bad" husband & how radically different my life would be with one or the other (G@d forbid) really hit me. This is the home I wish to build with my partner & dwell in the rest of our days. You can't underestimate having a good partner.
We alternately stood & sat for ever, it seemed, just 50 metres from the Wall (not the Pink Floyd one, the Jewish one!), only being able to look at it & it's empty Plaza. Not being allowed to approach it or touch it or pray there. Very disheartening. Inbal wanted to take the bus home after we'd prayed, but we couldn't get to it, since we had to cross the Plaza to that stop. The stop where the last suicide bomber got on bus #2 & exploded in Me'ah She'arim, taking 22 others with him to their deaths.
Eventually we left & made our way back out through the Old City & up Yafo to the next-nearest bus stops, where I said goodbye to her & waved her away with a big smile. She's so great!
I was up for an adventure in Me'ah She'arim - so off I headed. On my way there I passed a plaque on a stone wall next to a driveway which read "Shalhevetyah Centre". I smiled. That's a word from one of my favourite parts Shir HaShirim. The Shalhevet Yah is the holy flame of G@d that burns, but does not destroy. Love is called the Shalhevet Yah in these verses.
The streets were CROWDED with people! & there I was again with exposed wrists. I overheard a comment in Hebrew about my ponytail. That either I was married or I was not married, so if I'm covering my hair because I'm married, I should cover ALL my hair, not have this provocative blonde ponytail bouncing about behind me. OY. I won't come back here again unless I'm more thoroughly covered.
I hiked home home through the colourful Ben Yehudah street fair.
Did my homework - made copious notes in my cahier as well.
I journalled till 2 a.m.

During this time I came to the realization that the negativity & dross that's been filling up my open heartspace along with the holiness...the closure of my space due to bad vibes is from the fact that this is, in potential, a very dangerous place & there's so much tension & hatred & intolerance - not just between Arabs & Jews, but between Jews!!! This is *not* "Yerushalayim shel Zahav"("Jerusalem of Gold"), this is *not* the Yerushalayim of R' Shlomo Carlebach's songs. Maybe it used to be. I have faith that it *can* be, as I fight my ko'ach ha'medameh (power of negative, hopeless illusion) & remember that Moshiach Consciousness is coming & that Olam HaBa is waiting for *us*...

B'sha'ah tovah...