I love Improv Everywhere. They cause “scenes of chaos and joy in public places.” Their missions are hysterically funny and often heartwarming and surprisingly touching. Check out their latest mission. It’s my good thought for the night. As I should be sleeping, terribly exhausted and need to head to the airport in 6 hours, at least I’m grinning from cheek to cheek. Enjoy!
Life is so short. But sometimes it seems to endlessly long and impossible to maneuver. But I’m in a good mood. And I want to revel in beautiful things. I’m thinking of starting a blog devoted to more positive things, a poem a day, a picture a day, a video a day on a happy nice funny friendly beautiful thing. That way I will force myself to think of goodness, of beauty every single day. Especially when it’s difficult for me. Too seek it instead of waiting for it to be revealed to me. After all, “a thing of beauty is a joy forever.”
So, here we go. Some beautiful things that have brought me some joy in recent days:
Black Heels to Tractor Wheels – the online real-life story of the “Pioneer Woman,” Ree Drummond. It’s incredible. Like a romance novel. Only real. Which makes it all the better.
Cows in Goa - I took this photo. I was there. It's real. And they are that content.
Absolutely Beautiful Things – a design blog from Australia with lots of pretty pictures. A world I would love to live in sometimes.
Prosecco and Pizza in Positano - a meal my sister and I thorougly enjoyed and will remember for years and years to come
Prayer
by Carol Ann Duffy, Britain’s new poet laureate
Some days, although we cannot pray, a prayer
utters itself. So, a woman will lift
her head from the sieve of her hands and stare
at the minims sung by a tree, a sudden gift.Some nights, although we are faithless, the truth
enters our hearts, that small familiar pain;
then a man will stand stock-still, hearing his youth
in the distant Latin chanting of a train.Pray for us now. Grade 1 piano scales
console the lodger looking out across
a Midlands town. Then dusk, and someone calls
a child’s name as though they named their loss.Darkness outside. Inside, the radio’s prayer –
Rockall. Malin. Dogger. Finisterre.
G’night all. Sweet dreams.
Happy St Paddy’s Day! The most adorable expression I’ve seen today:
Thank you Jim Henson.
A few more videos to lift our spirits:
I went to a wonderful little whiskey tasting last night, and I’ve got a FULL report coming. But I thought I’d tempt your tongues and noses with that one. The Laphroaig was lovely, thank you.
And finally, thanks to my friend the genius computer engineer (who btw invited me to last night’s tasting), this really special short film. It’s a bit long (12 minutes), but well worth the watch:
I warn you now. This will be something resembling a rant. Or philosophy. Or just depressive mumbo-jumbo. But it will only be as long as my crappy laptop battery will allow as I couldn’t get one of the only two tables at this cafe that are situated by a wall socket.
62% – here I go
It’s raining. It’s a good thing for Tel Aviv. It feels something like Christmas when it rains. It’s far more lively. People rushing about. Cars not used to splashing through puddles get pedestrians wet by accident. It’s kind of joyful. I holed up for a while in The Third Ear music and movie place, and then ran as fast as I could across the boulevard to a cafe because it was really coming down. I’m in a “glassed in” section that cafes tend to build out for the winter here. I’m kind of outside. I’m kind of in. It’s pleasant. And there are space heaters above us. And the rain is audibly pounding. It’s kind of a respite for me. But I’m still not feeling good.
58%
I lack structure. I’m not good when I lack structure. But I knew that this was coming. When I gave up the structure of a miserable job, I knew there was a big chance I’d flounder. I knew there was a big chance I would leap for another job, for another course, for something to make me get up in the morning. But once I establish a structure, I get very tired of it, very quickly. How does one live with structure and live without structure? How can one be comfortable in either situation? I love and hate both. I need and reject both.
56%
I dream of having ultimate purpose. I dream of deciding, this is it, I love the environment (or abused women, or tax reform, or crochet knitting, or model rocket building) so much that I will devote myself to making a change in this one particular field. Nothing will stop me! I will not yield! I am an environment saving (or women saving, tax reforming, crochet knitting rocketry) machine! I will form a company, a union, something! Or I will get a job with an existing agency and do it! I will get up every day, knowing that even though I may only be filing today, or only sweeping the floor today, or sitting in boring meetings today, I am ultimately doing something for what I love! I have purpose! I am doing my small part in one specific field, and over the course of a lifetime, I will have done something meaningful, I will have helped progress, I will have been able to sleep through the night, have friendships, have a love, clean my house, plant a garden, with the peace of knowing that 9-5, 5-6 days per week, I have purpose. That I function. That I do. That I count.
53%
That was idealistic wasn’t it? Life didn’t used to be like this. One existed to keep existing. Your dad was a silversmith? You apprenticed, you worked hard, you learned, you took over for him, you made enough money, got to marry, got to procreate and sustain that family because you had a profession. Or you have land. It’s your one asset. You grow food on it. It sustains you. You have a surplus. You sell it, you trade it, you have more under your belt. You marry. You have kids. You survive. You exist.
50%
So, why do we keep doing it? Over time, we have gotten to have more and more leisure time. In other words, we have more time to enjoy ourselves. And we have more time to think. So. What does this mean? We become more introspective, sure. And we can become gluttonous libertines, too. We start to think about meaning. Why are we here? Why is life such a struggle? Why continue? Because it’s also pleasant. Because food tastes good, sex feels good, talking warms us in a way a fire can’t, sleep is nourishing and pleasant. So…do we work hard so we can come home and enjoy the pleasures in our lives? Love our husbands and wives and lovers and children and sing songs and eat cake and drink wine? Is that enough? Has that always been it? Is that it now?
45%
I’m losing my train of thought. I don’t know if it wouldn’t just be prudent for me to find any old PhD program who would take me and just fall into the world of this, of books, of depressive philosophy. But that would be a pleasure in itself. Painful though it may be.
I’m just struck by the nothingness now. I feel sometimes that I’m nothing. That everything that I have accomplished is passed. That even though I have been productive in the past. Even if I’ve created great art. Even if I’ve once worked hard, if I’m not doing it now, I am nothing. And my goals seem so trivial. Work as a “traveling chef” while I edit my novel so I can send it out to get published. Maybe. Cooking seems so…nothing. It’s not like saving the whales. Or saving the economy. Or even reading philosophy books at a university. It feels on the one hand quite blue color and hard physical labor and crazily demeaning; and on the other hand it feels really decadent and over the top with the menus I plan and the heights I aspire to and the “world peace” I sometimes feel I can achieve if only I can educate people on how fantastic the history and processes of food really are. And yet, beyond the one catering gig I had, I have no leads. Sure, I’ve not done much of any marketing, or asking around, or making of flyers or anything. But I have distributed some 100 business cards and people were practically offering me work all over the place. Ah, c’est la vie. Nobody is true to their word, most of the time. Or am I just being cynical because I’m having a bad day/week/month?
40%
Joy. There are beautiful things about being here. About our existence. Whether we are base animals, working hard just to feed and sustain the next generation, so they can do the same thing. Or whether we are these huge thinkers, these pompous philosophs (or should I say sophists), who are so wrapped up in themselves, they cannot see the forest for the trees. If it’s a matter of work (dare I say, “work will set you free?”) and simple pleasures of home, hearth, and God, or something much larger…I don’t know.
38%
I live in a world of chocolate. I live in a world where I can sit sheltered from the rain in a glass box, sipping a latte. I have a laptop. I have internet. I express my opinion to millions (or maybe a dozen or so) strangers, freely. I go to a shrink, weekly. I take prescription drugs. I drink whisky. I live in a world where I wonder about it. I live a life I cannot understand. I am continuously in awe of things I discover. I am continuously puzzled by things I can’t wrap my head around. Are these not all wonderful things? Are these not things that in their own way bring me joy? Maybe even give me purpose? No, not purpose. That’s going too far.
34%
I have always, always, always believed that things, all things, only have the meaning we bestow upon them. A religious person believes in God, in God’s power, love, grace, etc. An athiest does not. Yet they live in the same world. And they are both correct. Meaning is our attempt to give significance to the things around us, and hence to our lives.
32%
But, if I believe that meaning is an artificial construct, then what am I doing here? If I don’t believe that anything means anything, can I still care? Well, sure, right? Sure, we’re all going to die. But some people suffer more than I do, some people even starve and die painful deaths. There is no sense in some of us people being wealthy and some being poor. That’s the way it is now. I’m not saying it “shouldn’t” be this way. But this is the reality. I can still do something about it. From giving a small donation in a tin on the street corner, to devoting my life to alieviate poverty in, say, Africa. I can do something, even if I accept that things are the way they are, just because they are.
30%
50 ways to leave your lover is playing. I love this song. I really do love Paul Simon’s work.
So, we are an accident. Something that happened. Big Bang — massive expansion — stars, planets, volcanoes, atomospheres, amino acids, cells, and finally us. Nobody before. Nobody after. Nobody watching. And even if someone were?
29%
Here I sit at a cafe. Really sad, and no reason to be so. My tears have no meaning. If I applied myself, I could be great. I have that background. I have that education. I have that elloquence. I even hhave the connections. And I don’t know what to do. Maybe this is indeed depression. Massive depression. Maybe if I took more drugs, I would feel like I was over the moon, clean the house, get a job, finish the book in lightening speed, sell a million copies, move to Paris like I want, eat croissants, go shopping, have a lover who really loves me, have babies, have a vegetable garden in Provence, drink wine, grow vineyards, make wine, write funny stories, sing pretty songs, and die a peaceful death, full of fat French cheese, lush Belgian chocolate, and smiling faces all around. One more pill a day? Just one more pill? Wasn’t this what I thought one pill ago? Is this more of an existential dillema than a psychological one? Do I need more therapy? Or a weekly chat with a philosopher? Would winning a million dollars change anything? Would it?
26%
I think I’ll stop soon. Nobody will have read this far. I’m not nearly as intelligent as people think I am. I still can’t get over the feeling that unless I am productive, unless I have a title, unless I am earning, unless I am creating something, I am nothing. How different would the world have been without me? Not much. Or would it?
I am spinning in circles, and I don’t know the way out. I feel so sad. I hate not having purpose. Because in all actuality, I have too much purpose. I cannot decide. I can’t. Why can’t I just go work for Greenpeace? Go join the Peace Corps? Get a job at a bank? Earn a paycheck and drown my sorrows with….simple joys? I don’t know. I just don’t know. I’ve never known.
22% – it’s not safe to go to zero, is it?
Still, I have to remember that I have good days. So good, it’s scary. Days when every flower is a gift. When every new thing I learn is reason enough to have been born. Why am I like this?
I’ve been surfing blogs after a nice day out. The day out was a pleasant surprise. Saw a friend, visited the cats I’m sitting, and went to “Ha’Ozen Ha’shlishit,” or, The Third Ear, Tel Aviv’s premiere independent music and film center, where you can buy and rent just about anything. I rented two films I’ve wanted to see for a long while, a couple soul searchers. I’m still really confused, borderline depressed, sluggish, and weird. But, I’m getting on. Read a great book yesterday, The Uncommon Reader, by Alan Bennett. Read it in one sitting and was much the merrier for it.
Right as I got the The Third Ear, there was a graffiti-ed sentence on a wall: “What we had to do to get by” and beneath it, “Know hope,” with a heart. I don’t know if it’s a campaign or what. But I wanted to cry. In a good way. Kind of.
And just now, from blog to blog to blog…as you do…discovered the YouTube site of “Improv Everywhere,” a fab company which stages grand acts of joy, randomly in public. You might remember that people frozen in Grand Central Station, the video that went viral last year. Here’s something I adore. Enjoy!
I’m procrastinating in a major way, trying to type with a cat in my lap, not working, having just finished a late breakfast. I’m so bad and I will be paying dearly very soon. But for now, I’m not stressing. Why? Keeping up with current events and then amusing myself in order to recover from them has proven (disgustingly) a full and interesting morning.
So I learned that the Israeli Defense Force (IDF or Tzahal) has its own Youtube channel. Yup. Watch the war semi-live from an up close and personal view. I had no idea warfare was this precise. I suppose we should be thankful for the precision. This kind of video just shocked me, though. There’s something wrong, it feels to me, to be watching this stuff over breakfast in Tel Aviv, like it’s nothing. Perhaps I’m a bit sheltered. As a liberal American, I didn’t keep up with the gore of Iraq. Didn’t watch any of the viral videos of beheaddings, didn’t follow the embedded journalists like an addict. Now that I live here, it’s different. It’s so close. An hour away at most. People I know have been and will be called up for reserve duty to go fight. The first Israeli soldier has fallen. Why. Why. Why.
And yet, hundreds of Palestinians have already died. Yes, we outgun them. Yes, we have infinitely more power. But they won’t stop shooting. If I weren’t Israeli. If only I weren’t involved. I would totally be on the liberal Western side, condemning Israel, siding with the poor people being slaughtered. It seems so obvious. But it’s far from obvious and simple. It’s hard. It’s really hard. We shouldn’t be at war. It’s horrific, and I want nobody to die. It needs to stop. I wish we could “be the bigger man” and stop. But the underdog keeps at it. It reminds me of the “enlightened ruler” concept. The power to cause great harm and choosing not to. And we keep proving to be unenlightened.
It’s the hatred that gets me most. It would be so much, I hate saying it, but easier, if it weren’t all so malicious. It’s bizarre waking up each day, as an Israeli-American, as a Jew, and knowing that half of the world or more hates me. That despite all the legitimacy the Palestinian people have won, deep down their rhetoric is all about pushing us into the sea. That even if it doesn’t ever happen, they still want it to. And I have no hatred, or very little, in my heart. I really try to approach the world on a person to person basis. Because it’s the only thing that has ever mattered, changed history, one person learning, interacting with another. Learning that we’re the same. That we eat and sleep, care and dream, laugh and sing like the other. But where does this get me, with them incessantly throwing rockets, and we going in with a hundred times the force? I would love to be able to go as a tourist to Jordan, Iran, Saudi Arabia, Lebanon. Honestly. I am interested, and I have looked into it. But I would be in mortal danger in some places. Not all. But it would not be easy, and it would be a matter of hidingmy identity and pretending to be Canadian or something. The 6 hours I once spent in the Bahrain airport, my heart thumping, was a nightmare. Of course I was safe. But there everyone was, walking around in Arab dress, robes, Arabic, all of it. I hit my Israeli passport in a secret pocket I am always certain to travel with deep down in a bag. Lucky I have the American. Whatever. Maybe I should just do it. As an excersize. Write a book. Lone Jewish woman travels the Middle East — follow her adventures as she communes with Bedouin women, slips in camel dung, dodges sneaky questions at passport control, and finally slips behind a burka seeking anonymity and protection…good god, I need to get to work!
So, the video for the day! It’s fantabulous! I mean it. I have just played it about 5 times. Why? Because it’s so damned happy and catchy and it reminds me why I love being alive, and that there are good things to look forward to. The song is about Paris, of course, but more about meeting strangers, becoming friends and lovers, and doing fun things like singing and dancing with crazy kooks in basement flats. It’s about joy. And loving your fellow man. And woman. So enjoy this video! And feel free to play it over and over and over! There’s no shame in it.
