As I sit here enjoying coffee and a chocolate biscotti, I can't help but realize how fortunate I am. And not just 'I have enough to eat and a roof over my head' fortunate. I'm more in the range of 'I have everything I want out of life and this is the best summer I've ever had, by god, I�m alive, I�M ALIVE!' fortunate. I don't see why I deserve it, although I don't see life as a karmic battlefield anymore. Life is what you make it, and good things don't come from sitting on your tuchus and hoping.
Potentially bad events can be made worse, or they can enable one to grow and relate more sympathetically to the human race. The mistakes I made were very complex, but they softened my outlook toward people that at one time I thought I was morally superior to. I see the human side to everything now. I am able to forgive even the most wretched mistakes in others because now I know what it feels like to be a good person who struggles with all the troubles that come with being human. We are all flawed. This year I've learned to really appreciate flaws as a sign of humanity, truth, and life. I've learned to take life as it comes. When things don't work according to plan, I just go with it. So maybe I have earned this happiness. Disregard all this if I get struck by lightning tomorrow.
My new attitude toward humanity (loving more, judging less) has turned me into a social magnet. Weird. I haven�t had friendships like this since I was in the fifth grade and invented secret languages with my B.O.F.F.s. I love these people! My old friends, my new friends, incredible strangers I meet... I live for the moments we share, and I really value their friendship.
The other day, after a long day of hiking down to a hidden cove to befriend a crab and some starfish, I returned to my old city to meet a friend for tapas. When we sat down, the Sevillan owner approached me and said, "Shalom! Mah shlomech?"
Shto, shto? I'm not wearing any of my Hebrew bling. Is it that obvious? Is he Jewish? Oh wait, he asked me a question and I'm just sitting here staring quizzically as if he can hear my inner dialogue. I should say something so he doesn't think I'm a mute.
"Hi."
"Are you Jewish?" he asked.
"Yes," I replied. (Finally I can say yes without hesitation or uncertainty. Damn the matrilineal law that kept me in a perpetual state of identity crisis for so long. I yam what I yam.)
"Do you know Hebrew?" he asked, probably wondering why I gave him a blank stare when he addressed me in Hebrew.
"Yes," I replied. "Some." I added, being modest just in case he decided to get all fluent on me.
He took my palm in his hand and began to read it. He told me I was finally exactly where I want to be in life. He said there was no longer any uncertainty or conflict because I was living my dream and pursuing my passions, marching to the beat of my own drum. He emphasized that I should continue on this path and that people will admire me for it. Then he looked at my other hand (the one with the wedding ring) and said, "I see commitment." (Ha ha.) He told me I have a great love that will last a lifetime and that I have to look deep inside of myself and embrace it. Aw.
"How did you know I'm Jewish?" I asked.
"We are a special people," he replied with a sparkle in his eye.
Fantastic. I've always wanted to be in the special olympics.
He reminded me of my papa. It was as if I�d spent the last 20 minutes talking with my papa through the body of this messenger, who said the things my papa would have said if he could have had one last talk with me.
Before we left he kissed both my cheeks euro style and told me not to forget what he told me about following my dreams. Now typically I�m not one to follow the advice of some superstitious stranger who makes a living off of paella, but this mysterious character was particularly wise, and I feel fortunate to have met him.
It makes me wonder though. I've been getting Jewish comments a lot lately. Like my cousin in law who recently told me she saw "the real Jew" in me emerge when I danced on stage with her for my sister in law's birthday. Apparently I'm only a "real Jew" when I'm drunk. She's such a lush, but I love her all the same.
1:16 p.m. - 2006-07-31