It was happening again. Again I’d found myself in a group social setting and again was suffering from Overunder Syndrome (OUS). For those of you unfamiliar with this condition (and for those of you who are, but in undiagnosed form), I’ll explain. Whenever necessity or circumstance sequesters me together for any appreciable length of Read more
The fact that so many people don’t even see the use of poetry any more should be seen as a danger sign, no less than global warming.
Let’s be a place where the soapbox is stored away and where minds can meet without being cut down to size, or narrowed in order to get along.
No less than the Maccabees, we are in a struggle today. And the front is not only on our borders; it is between the inner self, the tselem elokim, and the electronic media that invade our homes, and use us far more than we use them.
I was deeply shaken by this experience of moving around the sanctuary in front of the deceased lying up there on the altar in his casket. I felt that over there on the altar was a very real presence waiting for the events of the day to unfold.
Apparently someone thought that it would be easier for a parent to remember their smartphone than to remember not to leave their child to die in a locked car.
For me, self-censored input includes that which demeans human dignity, undermines my valued relationships, or stimulates selfishness and other small-minded traits.