Script Keeper

So I’m doing it again. A lot. Non stop. And by that I’m mean furiously writing scripts in my head for the future. Conversations, speeches, and interactions that I want to take place. I imagine every detail of these scenarios, from the carefully placed pauses to tears and laughter. It’s not good, and it’s an addiction that’s stemming from expectation and hope. The most dangerous part to that is that I am easily setting myself up for massive disappointment. Overall I have become soooooo much better at being good to myself through all the hundreds  of decisions we make during every waking moment.

We don’t realize it, but every single thing we do throughout our time awake is the direct result of choices. What we eat, wear, who we will talk to, who we will ignore, what time we leave the house, how we will spend the next two minutes, what we will think about, what we refuse to deal with, when will we check Instagram, will we decide to be patient with our kids, what to make for dinner, to what extent will we get aggravated or choose peace, etc. The list is literally endless. It only ends when we are asleep, and are pulled into the unconscious abyss. Even falling asleep can involve decisions. If the mind just can’t calm down and the untamed thoughts are still bouncing off the walls of the brain, we have to decide to climb out of that. Some decide to take a sleeping pill, while others may say screw it and flip on the tv. I sometimes decide between the sleeping pill or just choosing to accept that I may not fall asleep, and I’ll just be tired the next day (I go in and out of the Ambien thing. I want to be permanently out, but sometimes I need to outsource the shutting down. Or so I think I do.). I actually find peace in the latter; not getting apprehensive about lack of sleep. Being less attached to time and how we are conditioned to spend it. Not everything has to be set in stone. Obviously, sleep is extremely important. But so is peace of mind and not resorting to pharmaceuticals. And let’s say that is one of those sleepless nights, do I still wake up at 5:45 for sunrise yoga and get in a much needed spiritual practice? Decisions, decisions.

Our poor brains are always on overdrive. Recently I’ve been making a lot of decisions about boundaries, a skill I’m admittedly just learning. I am a giver to the fullest. This means that over the entire course of my life I have been taken from; spiritually, emotionally, mentally, and physically. I am thrilled and grateful to be a giver. It’s what we are designed for, which is why it feels right to me. Until it starts to feel wrong and I’m stuck in a pattern which ultimately leads to my own depletion. Self care is not about manicures. Self care is about really taking care of the precious inner self. This was a concept I had to really learn. I cognitively understood it before I truly internalized it. I’d honestly say there was a year gap between the two. Conditioned to just put up with so much shit, all the while still giving, the notion of true boundaries was a language I didn’t speak. I never had a problem with self love. I’ve always been centered and secure within myself. Poor decisions I made never stemmed from insecurity or a lack of confidence. Which is why I didn’t think I wasn’t taking care of myself properly. It drove me crazy with confusion when certain people that I admire and seek advice from would tell me I need to love myself more. I couldn’t accept that, since I already do. But as is true with every relationship, love isn’t enough. There is so much more required, especially in your relationship with yourself. Care, gentleness, patience, compassion, kindness, sympathy, and acceptance are just a few examples of things we strive to give to others, forgetting or just never learning that we need those things too.

I hate the self righteous martyrdom aspect of “proudly” giving to everyone else at the expense of oneself. Why is that a point of pride? I used to pull that card, and trust me, it’s a road to nowhere. No one is happy as a doormat.  I think people say that out of hidden resentment. It’s justifying feeling neglected and having your needs not met. It’s a message to yourself that your needs don’t matter. It leads to unhealthy build up. The same is true with the boundary thing. Without them, we slowly and resentfully erode. And what boundaries are is really just good decision making. Do I continue to allow that hurtful person into my life, even though I did for so many years? Do I enter into an emotional situation that could very well railroad me down the line? Do I overextend myself and promise to be in two places at once? Do I keep remaining angrily quiet or disrespected by someone?

Now that I’ve entered the dating scene, that invites numerous boundary setting opportunities. To whom do I give my time and energy? If I’m certain I have no future with someone, do I bother having conversations with that person? If I am interested in someone, then physical boundaries need to be set. It’s interesting that while all these added decisions can feel overwhelming, they are actually the road to liberation. The more boundaries I set, the more free I feel. Once my protection system is in place, I can find ease within these beautiful, safe gates I’ve created for myself. That’s very much a yogic idea; finding ease in your strength. Once you have achieved a solid foundation, relax into it. We are these limitless beings of vast expansiveness, lacking restraint and restrictions. However we are simultaneously highly contained and compartmentalized.

So which is it? Do we love freely and openly or do we set limits and boundaries? Do we manifest and envision so we can ultimately bring that into reality, or do we remain in the now, knowing the future isn’t real?

This last question goes back to how I began this post; my feverish script writing. What I’m doing needs to stop. Clinging to something that may never be does not serve me well. Dialogues I need to have may never leave my head, and dreams I want to come true may come true in ways I’m not yet aware of. What I have recently learned is this: the decisions I make now and the boundaries I set, minute to minute, create a healthy present, which will undoubtedly lead to a healthy future. Every single thing we decide upon will naturally create our story. The story we want. My former lack of boundaries led to experiences I did not want. I had to rework my entire Jessica infrastructure in order to get different results. Different choices lead to a different story, and boundaries are what shape the chapters.

This is a new discovery for me. I was at a fork in the road not long ago. Choose one direction or the other. No middle roads. One choice would have led me down the wrong path, the other choice might take me where I need to go. Both choices were difficult, both paths were rocky, so it wasn’t an easy, clear answer.  But one path was in the vein of me setting a boundary within myself, even from a discipline standpoint. It was a discipline I need very much, so it felt good to invite myself into that place. Existing within boundaries can feel very uncomfortable at first, since it’s unfamiliar. I’m not used to holding myself back. I’m used to going after what I want, making things happen. But I’m finding comfort in the discomfort, one of the first things my teacher, Betsy, taught our class. What a brilliant concept; allowing for discomfort, working through pain knowing it’s finite. Nothing is permanent. Energy always changes.  Situations change. People grow. Life is fluid, never linear. We draw lines to really give ourselves more wiggle room. Fear nothing, even the undesired outcome. It’s ok to not know. We don’t decide to know; we decide to be ok with not knowing.

I love this Deepak Chopra saying that if we embrace uncertainty than we can never be disappointed. Wow. Scary, but wow. The fear lies in how accustomed we are to only feeling safe in predictability. But that’s really contradictory since we’d only feel safe in one  certain result that we try to manipulate into being. We can’t fathom dealing with the result we are sure we don’t want. Therefore, getting to a place where we are ok with simply not knowing, where the only thing we know is that we will be safe and fine no matter what, eliminates tremendous fear. And it eliminates the need for script writing, which brings us back to the story that is happening now. And what is happening now for me is that I feel stronger, safer, and more connected every day. This makes me smile. The End...The Beginning...

Listen to Best Friend (feat. NERVO, The Knocks & Alisa Ueno) by Sofi Tukker

Roasted Potato Salad

No offense, Mayo, but you gross me out big time. I posted pics of this clean, uncomplicated potato salad last week, and it was so exciting to see how many of you wanted the JESScipe asap. While prepping for my latest food shoot, I saw this big bag of the cutest little yellow potatoes. I have never actually made this before, but I had to buy the potatoes and figure something out. I love challenging myself in the kitchen; it’s a good way to channel energy and creativity. I was extra emotional last week for several reasons, and putting my brain power to productive culinary use was a healthy use of myself.     

The potatoes here are not cut, which looks so pretty, and saves time and prep work. Any time you can eliminate a step or two without sacrificing taste and beauty, it’s a win. What’s that word I always use? Oh, right: “editing”😎. Tiny red potatoes would look well here too, and I usually use those, but I love the earthy color here that’s achieved with roasting the potatoes. I also love the color contrast between the caramelized brown with all the fresh herbs. 

This is a fabulous side dish to serve warm or room temperature. Bring it in a pretty container as your contribution to a BBQ this summer. The potatoes can be roasted the day before, with the dressing and herbs mixed in the day of (yo, sabbath keepers). Just let all marinate a couple hours before serving, room temp. You want the potatoes soft with having absorbed tons of flavor.   

Ingredients:

3 lbs tiny yellow potatoes

Half cup finely chopped scallions

A quarter each packed chopped fresh dill and parsley

8 sprigs fresh thyme with the leaves pulled down and off

Vinaigrette:

A quarter cup olive oil

1 Tbsp each Dijon mustard

1 Tbsp champagne vinegar

Half tsp salt, quarter tsp coarse ground pepper

Directions:

Preheat oven to 415 on roast setting (bake setting is ok too). Place potatoes in a single layer in a pan and drizzle with a couple tbsp olive oil. Mix and cover tightly with foil. I just used oil here so as not to make the potatoes too salty, given the dressing. You can always increase your seasonings during the second stage. You can’t lessen salt and pepper, but you can add to it. Cooking the potatoes covered steams them. I like to steam them halfway and roast the rest of the time, resulting in soft and caramelized 🥔.

Ok, so cook covered 20 min then uncover for another 20 or until fork tender. I like my oven rack on top. When potatoes are a bit shriveled and golden brown, let cool.

Make vinaigrette and pour on, mixing well, including the fresh thyme leaves. You can garnish with a cluster of fresh thyme sprigs on a corner of the serving platter, if you have extra. It’s always a nice, fresh indicator of what makes the dish clean and special🌱. I’m a huge dill gal; make sure your herbs are plentiful here so the flavors really pop. Potatoes are a bit like a white event space; you gotta jazz it up and bring it to life.

This dish is legit a high five to your taste buds. The 🍔🌭🍗will thank you for making them look so good. It’s like when the backup singer steals the spotlight🎤. Oh, make extra dressing if needed here, or make to keep in the fridge for other uses. This is also a great fish marinade.

Wild Horses Can’t Be Broken

Omg, Jordache!! I’m a sucker for an 80’s throwback. When the company so generously gifted me this sweatshirt, I threw it on immediately. It’s oversized, another 80’s nod. That whole baggy sweats look that our moms probably hated. They def thought it was shlumpy.  Not here, though, because the size is well utilized.  I was going for a Molly Ringwald “Pretty in Pink” vibe.  I mean, the 80’s are a gift that keep on giving.  It’s just reference after reference 💥💥💥.

I had on tailored white slacks, making the sweatshirt feel like a sweater, not a gross sweatshirt you’d sleep in.  I wear this black straw J Crew fedora to death. I call it my black hat 🤪✡️🖤.  The green in the cuff correlated to the same green in my shoes; silver platform oxfords with a bright green trim💚.  I really like the light gray with white for summer.  I’ll pair this with white cutoffs too.  Or a white denim miniskirt, if I find one. Any suggestions?  The white sunnies here keep the sweatshirt light and fresh.  Slouch with style, Girls.  Not all we put on must cling to our bodies like sausage casings.  You gotta have a backup plan for bloat, am I right?? 🐳

Listen to Murder She Wrote (Original Mix) by Chaka Demus & Pliers

Sunburst Nectarine Tart🍑🌞

“Well, isn’t that special?” Not sure why I’m conjuring up the Church Lady from SNL, but I imagine her taking one look at me holding this tart and being a passive aggressive bitch about it. I swear I don’t know why, but it’s making me giggle as I type. Which indeed makes it special😀😋. I love rolling out these free form tarts. It’s a kick to use my rolling pin; it makes me feel old school. I’m covered in flour, pounding out dough, and it makes me happy. This tart is quite easy to make. You make the dough, chill it for an hour so it firms up, then roll it out and fill it with thin overlapping layers of sliced fruit. I use pears or apples in the winter/autumn, and stone fruit in the summer. I love using nectarines. Their tartness relaxes in the oven, and the pretty yellow color is so summery like a little burst of 🌞. Nectarines, peaches, and plums are such a treat. I wait all year for them, especially the sweeter white ones.

During my first pregnancy I had an insane craving for white peaches. Alas, it was January, and I was in Brooklyn at the time. Not exactly land of farm fresh produce. My mother in law, of blessed memory, went searching for some. I think she managed to find a few, if memory serves (though it may not since my nausea rendered me non functioning). The other noteworthy craving I had during that pregnancy was a Fluffernutter sandwich. That was a one time thing but the craving was so strong I’d have battled Isis to get one. Bottom line: them bitches be crazy. But I digress, as per usual.

Another kitchen tool I love using is my pizza wheel cutter. This circular tart gets cut into wedges and eaten utensil free, which makes it perfect for a picnic🍴🚫. If baking for a crowd go ahead and make a few varieties. The different wedges on a platter would look so colorful and pretty🍎🍐🍑🍓🍏.

INGREDIENTS:

1 cup flour

1/4 tsp sugar

1/4 tsp salt

1/4 cup vegetable oil

1/4 cup ice water

3/4 tsp vanilla extract

2 nectarines thinly sliced

One beaten egg

Directions:

Mix flour, sugar, salt, and half the oil in a bowl until resembles meal.  Add remaining oil and mix well.  Add water and vanilla.  Mix well and roll into a ball and chill for one hour.

Roll out dough into a  15" circle on a flat floured surface and place on a baking sheet.

After tart dough is rolled out, brush egg wash on the middle, leaving a two inch border. Sprinkle sugar on egg wash base. Layer fruit slices one on top of the other, making a circular pattern with the skin all facing one side. Fold two inch dough border over the edges of the fruit, pinching with wet fingers to enclose. Brush dough border with egg wash and sprinkle with sugar. Bake for 30 minutes on 400. Slice into wedges when cool.

The Power of Neosporin

 Isn’t it impactful when seemingly unimportant instances turn into lessons? When the mundane ascends to metaphor? A few weeks ago I got this deep, nasty cut on my right thumb. It bled like crazy, and it was a giant pain in the ass. After all, what’s a blogger to do without her typing thumb? I put on several bandaids to stop the bleeding, but I otherwise ignored it. I didn’t want to focus on the negative so as not to expand it. My thumb really hurt and the bleeding lasted a couple days. I really didn’t want to go to a doctor to see if it needed stitching up; mothers don’t have time for that. We are so busy taking care of the rest of the household, so unless we are bleeding to death we will probably neglect ourselves (old story).

Getting myself looked at was just another thing to do that I didn’t have time for. So I left it alone. Spoiler alert: it did not get better. My thumb on day three was a shriveled, white mess. Lack of care, lack of air. I couldn’t air it out since the wound was too deep. There was still throbbing but I guess I got used to it, and I learned how to text and deftly apply makeup, thereby working around it. Such a mom thing, right? Working around it. Incorporating new, crappy facts and powering forward. But on day five I figured I might as well put on some Neosporin. There was a significant improvement overnight. The cut was almost closed up, and I was shocked at the difference. I stared at my thumb for awhile and thought about how badly we want to heal. How ready we are to get better. We just need and crave the help. From the mind that makes a joke during shiva as a coping skill,  to the flesh that cries out for over the counter antibiotic ointment, every part of us, when given proper care and attention, will begin to improve. I kept thinking how quickly my thumb responded to such a minor tweak. If only I had done that sooner, I’d have avoided extra pain and discomfort. This metaphor blew me away.

So many people have been asking me lately how I launched myself into this new chapter, leaving behind a lot of pain and discomfort in the greater sense. The question here is almost more important than the answer, because anyone asking is hungry for change. The need to make radical shifts in our lives creates a deep, raw hole. Those acknowledging their holes are ready to pick up the shovel, even if they aren’t fully aware of that. In the Passover Seder we speak of the Four Sons. The youngest son doesn’t even know how to or what to ask about the story of the Exodus, because he’s too ignorant to formulate the questions. Therefore, if you’re baseline asking, that’s a really good sign. The key is to honor your question, and not to ignore it thinking it will just go away, like I did initially with my cut. Most things don’t heal entirely on their own. They require attention, love, compassion, gentleness, and awareness. The Neosporin was right there in my medicine cabinet. Healing was available to me had I sought it out. Once I did seek it, my thumb was repaired. It’s astounding how as a survival tactic, we accept lousy circumstances. Our minds shut down and life can take on a robotic quality. It’s scary and daunting to shake things up. Eventually we can lose the unhappiness that comes attached to that, and life just feels like this numb routine. I used to wonder “is this it?”

Many of my friends have expressed the same thing lately. If you’re asking that’s a direct sign you want more, and that there’s a tiny seed inside you fighting to grow against complacency. I don’t have all the answers. I can be an ear and a shoulder, but I know what worked for me. We all want someone else to make it okay for us, to soothe us and hand us the instruction manual. But as only we can know what’s going on in our heads, only we can provide the answers. I’m very grateful in that I have always known I wanted to write and live through music. But until I shakily called Scratch DJ Academy and started the blog, I had no idea I’d ever make something of myself in either of those areas. They felt like lofty, impractical goals. I didn’t realize they were necessary to become my lifelines. Yoga and meditation continue to peel back layers and reaffirm my purpose. No one will argue against meditation in that sense. I believe it’s the key to life. We can’t possibly live a life detached from our inner selves. Who cares if it’s hard to sit still at first? It’s a lot harder to feel adrift and lost. I love how people will say that drinking is an acquired taste. They’ll drink carbonated piss and beverages tasting like nail polish remover just to feel the fun affects of drinking. I get it, it’s worth it to achieve the release.

Same thing with disciplined spiritual work; it’s not the easiest thing to carve out the uncomfortable time to do it. But the payoff is tremendous, and there’s no hangover. Honestly, what really began my life changes was a book I read. Lust and Wonder by Augusten Burroughs. Get this book today. Absorb it and find a way to apply it to your own life. I read it at a very delicate crossroads in my life. It was either fall off the cliff or soar. I was being hurled into the atmosphere either way, and this book taught me how to land the proper way. I was so moved by the book that I was terrified to finish it. I didn’t know how I’d exist without it. I actually emailed the agent/ husband of the author, feeling a burning need to connect. Burroughs himself is too famous, I didn’t think he’d answer me, so I went with his husband and longtime agent Christopher Schelling. It was easy; I just googled his contact info and took a chance. I was ok with not hearing a response. It felt good just to shoot my arrow.  But he answered me!!!! When I saw his name pop up on my emails I burst into this flood of tears. It meant everything at that time to make contact with these strangers, whose story, though wildly different from mine, resonated with me. Take risks, reach out, reach in. Try different things that will make you truly happy, because these little spurts of joy are what fixes us. Once we raise our emotional vibration by taking action, that alone invites more joy.  Not superficial, bullshit, phony happiness. The real deal. Only you will know when it’s real. It’s not your right to be happy, it’s your responsibility. We are responsible for our own energy, and our own contribution. We can’t give what we ourselves lack. We aren’t good parents, good partners, good friends, or good citizens if we are operating on an empty tank. Community service done by the most miserable wretch in the neighborhood, the one talking shit about everyone else, isn’t really spreading much good. Vibration doesn’t lie because it doesn’t need to. I’m training myself to do this when I’m in a bad place: I immediately (or promise myself when it’s logistically accessible) throw myself into something I love. DJ practice, writing, cooking, a yoga class. Even if I’m not in the mood because my ego wants to wallow in anger or self pity, I force myself. It’s beautiful how fast we will cling to joy as soon as it’s in front of us. We want it so much. So find the things that hit that sweet spot for you, and please read Lust and Wonder. Start somewhere, and I promise you’ll end everywhere you need to be. Healing properties are really all around us. We just need to get off our butts and take what we need out of the medicine cabinet. Be proud of the desire to fix your life, pat yourself on the back for asking questions. Only in the space of the inquiry lives the answer.

Fish Tacos

After posting these beauties on a recent instastory, I was thrilled to see how many of you wrote in asking for the JESScipe.  Many thanks to my love SO for helping me perfect how this fishy little situation should all go down.  

I’ve never made fish tacos before, and I was determined to nail them.  I’m doing a lot less meat and chicken since I don’t eat it anymore.  The fish here can easily be swapped for grilled chicken here though.  Or even grilled flank steak.  You can even offer choices of proteins and have guests choose their own assemblage.  The tortillas, slaw, and guacamole are the same for all.  It’s easy to present different platters to appeal to your carnivorous peeps.  All these components can be prepared and packed separately for a picnic or beach outing.  Um, bring this to the beach and your friends will erect a sandcastle in your honor on the spot 🏖.  Light, white meat tilapia is the building block here.  Tilapia is like a white room that needs to be enhanced with decor, making it the perfect canvas for seasonings.  I had about six limes on hand while cooking the fish; I kept deglazing the frying pan with squeezes of fresh lime juice.  This kept the fish from sticking to the dried pan while adding fabulous citrusy flavor.  I had the limes already halved so I could grab and squeeze as needed.  This is in addition to the fresh squeezed lime juice needed for the slaw dressing.  Meaty tilapia, soft tortillas, vinegary slaw in bright colors, and creamy guacamole ; homemade perfection.

The LB photography crew had the best lunch while we prepped this for the shoot. They were blown away, which made me so happy.  Good food is love, always.   

Ingredients:

Four pieces fresh tilapia, they’ll probably be about an inch thick.

Salt, pepper, and cumin on hand.

A package of soft tortillas.

Store bought high quality guacamole or my Express Lane Guacamole from a former post (that was a quick version but feel free to jazz it up with diced red onions, diced tomatoes, and chopped cilantro. It’s not needed here though since there’s so much flavor in the slaw).    

A packed cup of chopped cilantro

A package each of store sliced purple cabbage and carrots found in produce section of the supermarket.

Slaw dressing:

Three tbsp white wine vinegar

A quarter cup each of fresh lime juice and olive oil.

Half a tsp salt and a quarter tsp pepper.

Repeat seasoning on exposed side of fish now. Cook the fish several minutes on each side until golden brown, deglazing with the fresh lime halves as needed. Nudge the fish gently with a spatula during the cooking process a couple times to prevent sticking. It’s ok if the fish falls apart since you’re going to flake it anyway. When fish is cooked (you can test it at the thickest part) place in a glass dish and cover with plastic wrap to lock in the moisture and flavorings. If traveling with this dish, leave the fish as is. You’ll flake on sight.

Place the shredded carrots and cabbage in a bowl with the chopped cilantro. Add dressing, mixing well, and let sit about 20/30 minutes at least.  The slaw should sit at least thirty minutes to absorb the dressing flavor. Don’t let it sit overnight though, to prevent the purple cabbage from bleeding into the carrots. Sharp purple and orange here are crucial to the visual of this dish.  Lots of bright, tropical colors here.  Food must look as good as it tastes.  Engage as many of the five senses as possible to enhance any experience, eating included!     

Heat each tortilla in a dry skillet on medium heat until slightly golden brown on each side, maybe a minute per side max. Flip with tongs and set aside in a single layer on a platter. Again, if traveling, layer the tortillas in wax paper around each one so they don’t stick together. Gently break up the tilapia with a fork into meaty chunks.

Here comes the best part: layer on top of each tortilla about three tbsp of slaw, a generous amount of fish, and a tbsp or 2 of guacamole. Fold and enjoy! You can garnish the platter with slices of fresh lime for a pretty color hint.  I’d say this makes eight fish tacos.  Plan on two per person, trust me they’ll want more than one.  Taco Tuesday is now accessible any day of the week; why should Tuesday get all the fun?

Kimono she didn't

Out of the several kimonos I’ve amassed, this one is my favorite.  It’s so vintage feeling, from the faded background color to the pattern.  I got it in Tel Aviv in November, at this super cool store called Plazmalab. I love how the store describes itself as a “collection of dreamers”.  Check it out if you go!  I picked up a bunch of gems from there, all very unique pieces.

I like wearing a kimono as a layering piece as outerwear.  Here, though, it was the top itself.  I felt like Mrs Roper from Three’s Company🤣.  I wore it over this fine mesh, pearl detailed collar that I bought at a high end consignment shop where I live.  It’s called Mint, I’ve mentioned it before.  I bought it thinking it’d be so perfect under a black blazer.  It’s such pretty detailing underneath any open top.  Glamorous loungewear is so 60’s.  It is indeed nice to have something comfortable and chic to wear while entertaining.  I wouldn’t waste this on myself alone, but I have to be in loose clothing when I have guests, or I get sweaty and irritated.  One of my fave winter looks was this kimono over black leather pants and a black turtleneck, with beat up motorcycle boots.  For summer I’ll use it as a jacket on a cool night.  Huge kimono sleeves make me feel like a samurai 🥋.  Now I’ll just have to get a Honzu sword, like Uma in Kill Bill.  Not that I’d have a clue what to do with it😏. 

Listen to Baby I Need Your Loving by Four Tops

“God Willing”

This is a phrase I recently realized I loathe. A close second is “with God’s help”.  These two phrases are used as much in my community as is “hello”.  When I say “my community” I don’t mean mine specifically, but rather the Jewish Orthodox community at large.  Speaking with these disclaimers has been wired into our speech patterns since we learned to talk, because almost every parent says them.  They are instinctive utterances.  They have very strong guilt ridden, superstitious undertones; if I don’t say this then God will be angry with me and not grant me help according to His will.  It's as if people are kissing up to God so He will give them what they want.  I hear “with God’s help” said about any topic, ranging from a grave health issue to a kid making a school hockey team.  “God willing, she will do well on her math final”.  Really?? If the child studies and knows math, then she will probably do well on the test.  I don’t think God is controlling the outcome of the fraction section in sixth grade math.  

These superstitious platitudes bother me for a few reasons (as do most things😏).  In the case of more minor issues, say the aforementioned test/hockey team/I hope the caterer does at good job, I feel like results that are entirely achievable by humans are being dumped on God.  It smacks of laziness; I may not have to try my absolute best, cuz if it’s God’s will I’ll get what I want.  Ya know, since He wants it and is willing to help me.  Get over yourself; If we are talking about the same God, the one who is making babies, ushering the dead into heaven, and controlling the solar and lunar cycles, then chances are where your child gets into summer camp is of no consequence.  It’s this strange shirking of our own responsibilities to accomplish.  God is very, very busy. He knows what He’s doing.  To blame every single little outcome of our own lives on Him sounds extremely entitled.  

On the flip side, let’s say the bar mitzvah sucked; the DJ was awful, the chicken was cold, and the flowers were half dead; does this imply that God willed your party to fall apart?  God willing, all will go well, right?  So what is the insinuation when things go wrong?  Think about this.  It essentially means that God is not out the gate on your side.  His “will” and “help” are not obvious to you, and are being given conditionally.  What these conditions are is another story, and every person has their own list.  How much subjectivity can their really be in earning God’s love and help?  Can He really want different things from each and every one of us, or are there just certain things we are all supposed to do to warrant this celestial partnership amongst man and the unseen? 

I think it’s very sad that people who believe that they believe, apparently don’t entirely believe that God is ALWAYS willing to help us.  Peeps, He’s there!  Not because you earned brownie points by beginning and ending every sentence with those few words.  If you don’t say it, will He be mad at you?  I feel a lot of times these things are said it’s because of just that; fear of punishment, revealing itself in the outcome we don’t desire.  Which basically means it’s kind of phony, in that it’s just being tacked on to what we are saying so we will get our way.  It reminds me of crocodile tears, which obviously drive me up a wall.  Instead of SAYING these things, why not just DO what we truly believe is our part as humans, and maybe then God will offer us the hand we need to be further guided?  Assuming that unless we grovel, then God won’t grant us will and help, is akin to believing our parents won’t be there for us at all times.  Not feeling cared for and supported by our human parents unconditionally, does major damage.  It takes tremendous rewriting of a sad narrative to reverse that.  So feeling innately that the OG who actually made you will abandon you on a whim... well, that’s sure as hell not going to make for spiritual stability, which leads to the eventual erosion of pretty much everything else in our lives.  If we don’t trust the Universe we will trust nothing else.  That frightened voice that never soothes itself with divine knowledge and assurance, will indeed be terrified about the minutia of life.  How interesting that Jews specifically, who are supposedly secure in the knowledge that we are chosen, are famously and notoriously fraught with neurosis.  The Woody Allan stereotype of the scared, whiny, fearful, sniveling person who bitches and moans about everything.  Afraid to leave home since death and disaster awaits him at the corner.  This satirization works because it’s real.  I know tons of people like this, and I feel sad about that.  I wish people weren’t afraid of their own shadow, and didn’t always assume the worst.  I used to live like that, so I really relate to that level of fright and disaster prone thinking.  And I know where that came from in my case, just as much as I know how hard I worked to flip my script.

To live in fear and to love in fear are the same thing. Read that again. Jewish neurosis has a strange martyrdom quality to it; the more I worry the more self sacrificing I am.  Um, so what’s the sacrifice? Mental health, enjoyment of life, and inner peace?  It’s like worrying proves we are good mothers, good wives, good members of the tribe.  Worrying actually prevents us from being our true and best selves because it’s a blockage.  It blocks love.  It blocks freedom.  I’d die all over again if at my funeral, the message of the eulogy was, "Uch, what a wonderful worrier she was” (said with exaggerated manual gesticulation). 

Fear is a spirit killer, so why would the Creator of those spirits want us to operate under such duress?  Makes no sense. We need to have more faith that God won’t punish us and hit us with bolts of lightning out of nowhere.  The fire and brimstone way of thinking serves no one.  If I hear one more yenta say something asinine like, “God willing, my kids’ trunks will get to camp”.  Um, Lady, I think if you put the clothing in the trunks and the trucking company takes the bags, then most likely your children will have their monogrammed water bottle from Denny’s arrive in upstate New York in a timely fashion (and will probably be unpacked by the counselors).  And if God forbid, there is a tractor trailer pile up en route to the Catskills, and the trunk truck is prevented from reaching sleepaway camp, then first of all, no one cares about your personalized LeBron towel because people may have gotten hurt, and secondly, worst case scenario, you throw some extra clothes in a bag and drive it up there.  Your child won’t be running around naked like the boy in the Jungle Book.  Bottom line, if there’s a problem here, IT IS NOT GOD UNWILLING FOR YOUR STUFF TO GET THERE.  THE TRUNKS DID NOT GET LOST BECAUSE GOD DOES NOT WANT TO HELP YOU.  IF YOU REALLY THINK THAT THEN YOU PROBABLY THINK I AM A MENTAL PATIENT, AND THAT THIS BLOG IS NUTS. In which case I don’t know what to tell you.

Just please know that God loves you, is always on your side, and  is always wanting what’s best for you.  No ass kissing declarations required.  He didn’t make us to throw us to the wolves.  That’s mean. If we think He’s mean then we are screwed.  Mean attracts mean, fear attracts fear, unhappiness attracts unhappiness.  Doesn’t the opposite route sound so much better?  Your brain is your gift.  You can put it in the shop and fix it up.  Pimp My Ride.  Make it new.  Don’t write your death sentence while you are very much alive.  Love yourself enough to want better.  And pretty much everything is better than fear.  Fear nothing, love everything.  You have the biggest support system  out there, even though you can’t see it.  There are many ways to see things that don’t involve optometry.  I don’t believe God is this Regina George in the sky who needs you saying certain things to be able to sit at the lunch table (imagine one of the angels screaming to another, “you can’t sit with us!!! ).  Believe in our Source.  Believe in the tree in Avatar.  It will feel good, which leads to more good, which leads to better...   Yo, Schnapp, how’s this for Yentl in 2018?

Elevated Egg Sandwich🥚🍞🍳🍅

This lil sandwich is pretty and delicious, and so quick! It’s a perfect meal anytime of day, not just breakfast. You got your protein, healthy grains, and even a veggie in your hands; what’s not to love? The addition of Zatar is what takes this egg situation to the next level.  Zatar is a middle eastern spice that I put in almost everything.  It’s hyssop, but I have no idea what that even means.

I use Ezekiel bread, which is the only bread I really eat, but any drier, denser bread will work. Typical sliced supermarket bread may get soggy, even if toasted.  It’s too weak.  I used to eat only the whites of the egg, but I started adding a whole 🥚to benefit from the healthy fats.

Ingredients:

Three or four eggs

One whole the rest whites (or up to you!).

A plum tomato sliced into rounds.

One or two spoonfuls of store-bought pesto sauce.

Zatar (optional).

Directions:

Mix the eggs and make a cute omelet, sprinkling Zatar about a tsp or more if desired before flipping. In another small frying pan sauté the tomato slices 🍅in a tbsp of olive oil, sprinkling with a drop of salt and pepper. Toast the bread, then spread with pesto when slightly cool.

Assemble: bread, melted tomatoes, and omelet. Add a slice of 🧀if desired. That’s it! The sandwich can be open faced which I do, or typical with both slices. This is a gourmet sandwich that looks like it cost $20 at some get over yourself, fancy coffee place.  Except you made it yourself with no attitude from the barista.  For extra effort, toss some greens in a light vinaigrette and serve on the side.  Feel free to make the egg sunny side up if you prefer 🍳, still sprinkling Zatar on top.

I Really Need a Caf-TAN

 Boy, do I adore this piece! It brings to mind something Elizabeth Taylor may have worn in the 60's. This is a linen caftan made in Morocco. I wish I could say I picked it up on my travels, but I'd never lie to you. I will get to that country eventually, but for now I can go to the Upper East Side boutique Five Story😂.

Linen is a tough fabric; it's know for wrinkling, but sometimes that aggravation is worth it. A linen dress is harder to stay un rumpled in, but a jacket is the perfect way to incorporate this fabric into your look. Just hang it up in the car or drape across your lap or shoulders until you need to put it on. Plus, a little worn in is cool anyway. I love the burgundy embroidery against the pinky salmon color. There's something so chic about the slim fit and length. This looks cool as it does here over jeans and a white tank, and it would look terrific over a white or black dress. Spring/Summer outerwear should be fresh and clean.

This pop of color is a statement unto itself. I'm obsessed with the Pucci scarf in my hair. I've attempted to do this several times, only to feel like an idiot. This time it worked, and added to the vintage glam mood. If putting a shmata on your head is too much for you,  no prob. Just freshen up classic warm weather basics with a bright, sleek jacket such as this. You'll be surprised how much it can elevate the everyday.

👩🏼‍🎓

As any parent of a graduate knows, a flood of mixed emotions can (and will) drown you at this momentous juncture.  My daughter is soon graduating from high school, and while I’m so proud of her blah blah blah🗣, I’m definitely sad and sentimental.  When I graduated, I’d never have guessed the adults in the room gave that much of a shit.  Aside from the flowers they may have brought, or the photos they took, as a typical teenager I wasn’t aware of the complex range of parental emotions in the smelly, poorly ventilated auditorium.  Perhaps had the ventilation been better🤔...

During times of milestones, the pride factor is a given.  However, the pride I feel is expected in my world.  As in, I’m blessed to not be raising a child in a low income inner city, where a high school diploma may not be an automatic part of the deal.  I never wrestled with fear that my daughter wouldn’t complete high school.  Education where I live is hands down taken for granted, and this has always bothered me a great deal.  We can’t ever apologize where we come from, or to what circumstances we are born into.  But there’s often a sense of entitlement that is attached to a more cushioned existence.  At the start of the year, I stopped to eat on the Upper East Side of New York, a planet unto itself.  The fancy private schools were letting out at this time in the afternoon, and the little corner cafe was soon swarming with glittering, privileged teens.  It was like the set of Gossip Girl.  I felt average, shlumpy, and incredibly lacking in my own horrendous high school experience (not over it).  These girls had musical instruments, the kilt and knee sock gig down pat, and nannies carrying their bags. Their hair was shining, their skin clear, and carbs were not an issue.  The biggest dilemma seemed to be deciding which slutty animal or professional to be for Halloween (slutty mouse or cop?🐭👩🏻‍✈️). I SAY THIS WITH NO JUDGEMENT, IT WAS JUST VERY FUNNY IN A SATIRICAL WAY. I loved the SNL aspect.

As I drove home through Harlem, a few blocks up, the high school dismissal scene was quite different. The colors and energies even changed. It was grayer and heavier. This was not Blair and Serena eating sushi on the MET steps. I assume nothing about the thoughts and feelings of the kids, they could have been equally happy (and who knows if the wealthier ones were??), but it was a glaringly different scenario. It made me really think about how vastly different experiences can be just a few short blocks away from each other, and how unfair it is for people to immediately inherit a certain life.  More so, how being born into a satin pillow removes so much of what’s required to succeed ; drive.  I see this in my own surroundings.  If kids fail a test, so what? The teachers are automatically at fault.  All info can be learned from an iPhone.  The list goes on. So little is required since they’ll graduate regardless. 

My daughter happens to have worked her ass off these past four years.  Not out of fear of remaining trapped in a tough social construct, but because she’s a good girl who loves to learn. She shines in art history, reading, and writing.  When she’d feel overwhelmed by the workload, and Yeshiva schedules are brutal, I’d have sympathy but also pride that she was taking it seriously.  Struggle leads to growth and competency.  She earned her diploma, though she’d have gotten it anyway.  On another note, I’m having a hard time processing that she’s leaving home soon.  Never again will her occupancy of her bed here be a given.  I truly can’t wrap my head around that.  It makes no sense that the little bean I breastfed while watching The Wonder Years, is leaving me.  Where is she going and why doesn’t she want to stay???  Is her excitement at leaving home an indication I screwed up as a mother?  I know that’s egocentric.  This isn’t about me.  She’s entitled to her journey, and thank god she is an adaptable, well adjusted child.  All I want for her now is experience.  I’m just experiencing life at 40; I’m thrilled she’s beginning now. Rack it up, Gurl.  Just live.  But please want to come home.  A lot.  Sifting through baby pictures for her yearbook ads was really hard.  I cried as I flipped through the albums I’ve always meticulously kept.  Now photos live in my stupid phone, not being touched or framed.  That’s another depressing story...

One of the hardest things for parents to do is remove ourselves from our kids’ experiences. They are individuals who need space to grow and figure shit out.  They are not extensions of us, they are universes unto themselves.  It’s not fair for us to insert ourselves in every detail of their lives, be it out of love, insecurity, control, or boredom.  I can’t stand when parents seek fulfillment solely through their children.  It’s too much pressure on them.  I mess up all the time.  I make mistakes I never thought I’d make.  I kick myself constantly.  However, when I look at my Wonder Years baby girl, I know I’m getting at least half of it right.  What a lovely, kind, sensitive, smart, polite, beautiful soul she is, on her own accord. Now if only those graduation caps weren’t so stupid looking...

congrats to anyone working hard for anything, and for starting new chapters, myself included. Onward.  Always onward.  The day we stop learning is the day we die. Love you so much right now.

My Generation by The Who

Listen to Freaky Friday (feat. Chris Brown) by Lil Dicky

Tree Pose

I’m going through a tough time now, and I need to call upon all the ideas that I’ve been prattling on about to you since the blog began. Ideas about acceptance, editing, being at peace with the now, breathing through hardships, protecting our energy, raising and sustaining vibrations. You know, all the good stuff. This is a time I need to follow my own advice, or my mind will go off the rails.

I was presented with an emotionally challenging scenario, that went from one extreme to the other in a few short weeks. Something I’ve wanted for a very long time seemed finally within my reach, however ultimately was unattainable at this time. I have been furiously working to clear space in my mind, body, and spirit, so I thought the Law of Attraction was thinking, "Ah! She’s ready!”.

Since my DJ gig a few weeks ago, if you’ve read that post, it’s clear how my level of trust in the universe has increased tremendously.  So I trusted that the universe, in all its wisdom and love for me (for all of us), was sending me what I’ve been manifesting for so long.  Trust is always rewarded, and I’m a good girl, right?  Read into that as much as you’d like. As hard as it is to accept that the outcome of this situation is not what I hoped for, I have indeed learned a lot from it.  But I had to claw my mind out of a pile of shrapnel to reach these healthy, appreciative thoughts. 

My mediation lately has been of me being symbolized by a bright pink cherry blossom tree.  My gig came on the first nice day of the season.  We here in the tri state area have been waiting for things to bloom.  So a couple days before the job, when I was practicing my ass off, I saw a gorgeous cherry blossom in the middle of Manhattan, and I thought,  "ok, this tree is you. This is your time. Roll into your season. Nature waits for no one.” So I’m represented by this tree right? Obvious symbolism.

At first during meditation the tree stood alone. I clung to the cleanliness of that image. Then I meditated on sitting naked and content in a carved out hole in the trunk, patiently waiting for whoever is meant for me to come get me. I’m calm and peaceful sitting in the trunk, because the tree is Myself.  Therefore, I’m at a place where I’m at peace in my increased alignment.  I feel proud of this.  You can’t force meditative images, they come to you naturally when you’re zoned out. It clicks in my heart that this is what I’m picturing.  Now, since reeling from the cards I was dealt recently, my image is of me lying peacefully on cool, refreshing mossy grass at the base of my tree.  I’m resting.  I’m waiting.  I’m content with entering a state of just being. I’m always near my tree because we are one. A strong, beautiful trunk that sprouts vibrant flowers.  I’m always nude in these images, because I’m comfortable with emotional exposure.  This too indicates a level of trust.  Always having to force things in my life must stop.  I don’t need to resort to that anymore.  It’s coming, it’s all coming, and I know it.  So I can rest now.  The work never stops, and our monkey minds will always try to hop around frenetically.  The ego will always try to trip us up and convince us that things are terrible because they didn’t work out the way WE wanted (who are we to script things for others??? We don’t like it when they do it to us.) Taming the mind is a constant process.  And so is letting go.  Letting go of expectations and predictions.  Letting go of any notion of permanence.  Relaxing into the fact that energy is always changing.  Hopes and dreams are vital.  Manifestation  works.

I grapple with the difference between those things and expectations.  But I think it’s that expectation is attached to control, so we go crazy when we lose it.  We really suffer when we expect, but we flourish when we hope and dream.  If I exist under the umbrella of Trust, then I can finally lay down my head with a smile on my face.  And who doesn’t love that feeling?  Call it a spiritual hammock.  Even the shitty things in my life have given me tremendous growth.  I either recognize that or I go crazy.  The choice is mine.  I choose to rest.  I love you very much. That’s not bullshit.  When I write I feel open and mushy, and I’m flooded with warmth.  Writing makes me feel good, so I can tap into emotional generosity.  It’s not shtick when I tell you I love you.  Take that and turn it into whatever you need.  Verbal generosity helps me function.  I erode when I can’t share.  If you love someone, don’t wait to tell them.  There’s no point.  It will be so heavy on your heart to strap that feeling down.  Give yourself a gift by being open, in whatever way feels right to you. You’ll never regret operating from a place of love. Risk involved?  Sure.  The greater risk is stifling yourself.  Remember, you are nature. I challenge you to look around, find an image in nature that you identify with, and use that to symbolize yourself. Hold onto that image, and follow its changes. Barren, dry, cracked, brittle, blossoming, it’s all part of you. Change, fluidity, breaking down and rebuilding. Rooting to rise.  Every damn day, rooting to rise.

I'm Sensing a Shift...

 Best souvenir from a trip: this adorable dress purchased in the Mexico airport. I took my kids to Cancun in January, and spotted this fuchsia, embroidered gem as we were rushing to catch the plane home. I was determined to leave Mexico with some handmade local threads. This lil shift did not disappoint. It's the perfect easy dress for Spring. What's cool about this styling of it is that the belt I planned on wearing with it broke, so I improvised by cinching the waist with a rolled up scarf. I'm patting myself on the back for this one👏🏻. Thankfully I had a complimentary hot pink silk scarf with me! I had thought I'd put in on my head, so it truly was in my bag. A dangly turquoise earring completed the look. 1,2,3 for real. This was such a sweet look for walking around downtown Miami on my recent Passover trip.

I took these photos with Aziz, a great photographer I met through Air BNB. It was a well priced way to get good vacation pics. I really recommend it, whether you're alone or with friends/fam. Treat yourself to beautifully captured trip memories; why not? I did these for the blog and IG, and there was a nice guy from Bulgaria who was doing it too. He was excited to be in America for the first time and wanted nice pics. Good for him. It was also a cool way to meet interesting people from different walks of life. When I think about how much money I spent on the expensive designer embroidered peasant top I bought a couple years ago, I want to kick myself. For a fraction of that price I bought the real deal of a dress that's authentic. Much better way to go! Always keep your eyes open while you travel. There are fantastic finds that are wearable mementos. It feels so good to wear souvenirs that don't involve Mickey ears😅.

Minestrone Soup 🍲

Not sure what this emoji actually is but it’ll do! I’ve been making different versions of this delicious, filling soup since I was a newlywed. This is a complete meal in a bowl, especially if you’re a vegan or vegetarian. It’s hearty so it’s perfect for colder seasons, but I enjoy it all year. It’s very, very easy but appears so impressive due to all the components. I love when SF calls me and leads with, “you know what I could really go for right now?”  I always finish her sentence. Bff telepathy, especially when it comes to food😋.

Double this and freeze it. A light green salad 🥗 and a crusty loaf of fresh bread, and you are a culinary ninja. Delicious and perfect has nothing to do with effort.

Ingredients:

A cup each diced onion, carrots, and celery.

Two cloves minced garlic, or a tsp of garlic powder (powder to be used later in the process).

A box/ 4 cups vegetable stock or broth.

A large can of crushed tomatoes.

A can each of red beans and black beans, rinsed and drained.

A half a head of green cabbage, shredded.

Two cups large diced zucchini, green or yellow.

A tsp and a half of salt, half a tsp pepper.

A bay leaf.

Two tsp dried Italian seasoning.

Directions:

All seasonings can be adjusted to taste eventually if need be. Heat three tablespoons of olive oil in a large pot. Add the onions and sauté 3 min. Add minced garlic and diced carrots and celery. If the pot is drying and the garlic gets too well done, add a quarter cup of the broth to deglaze.

Cover the pot for two minutes to sweat the vegetables. This quickens the cooking process via steam. Veggies should be somewhat cooked but not mushy. Add broth, crushed tomatoes, and seasonings. Mix well, add bay leaf. Cover and bring to a boil.

Lower heat and simmer for 20 minutes. Add cabbage and simmer another 20 minutes until it’s softened. Add zucchini and beans and simmer another 15 minutes or until the zucchini is fully cooked. If you like a minestrone with a ton going on, you can add extra vegetables like cubed sweet potatoes or parsnips, or cool whole wheat orzo separately and place in bowls before serving. A can of white beans or chickpeas can also be added. Or simply add additional veggies of the ones you already used in the basis of the recipe. Any root vegetable added requires time to soften, so add that to the part where you first combine the broth and tomatoes to make the base. This fragrant, healthy soup is made of clean ingredients that want to come together for a party in your belly 🤤. Invite them in! Have a souper day. Ugh, sorry. Couldn’t resist that one.

Skirting the Issue

Confession; I fell in love with this light rinse, long denim skirt while shopping for my kids at a children's store. This was in the tween section, and I pounced. Forced to wear floor sweeping length skirts in my very religious high school and Israeli seminary, I previously associated long skirts with anything but fashion. That's really not the case though. A long, relaxed skirt can be so effortlessly sexy. It's another way to interpret the classic denim bottom. The light wash and thin fabric ease up any heaviness. This skirt would look so classy with a white button down, a bodysuit, or a cropped tee like I did here. Denim and white are like peanut butter and jelly; always a yummy pairing. This old J Crew rope belt was the perfect boho chic accessory. All the pieces here are light and airy. A funky tote bag holds all summer essentials. With nice weather, if I can, I like to shlep a book and blanket for impromptu park reading. Some mismatched layered necklaces add just the right stylish detailing. Take this look from day to night by adding a boyfriend blazer with pushed up sleeves. Rock various lengths this summer, and stretch out your wardrobe with new options.