Good morning Bais Chana! This past Friday was the preparation for all things wonderful.
Devorah Leah and Rivky’s entrance into a new year of life.
We patiently awaited the summons of our M.C.: Sunset. The paparazzi snapped some photos of the wait.
We welcomed the Shabbos by discussing our favorite part of it, and found a common thread throughout: There is nothing like putting down the phone or planner or pen and sitting peacefully on the sofa and looking someone in the eye. On the 7th day, G-d rested, and He wants us to rest too.
Shabbos day was spiced up with some improv games, real, hard talk about modesty and the best food.
After Shabbos: TALENT show. (Caps intended.)
Lara rapped.
Sara plopped down on a chair, all comfy, and belted out the highest of notes.
Zeesa disney princess-ed us with her voice.
Sabina karate chopped a dance.
Chana Rochel floated through one.
Chana K. sang and played with the voice and strum of a subdued power—-dreamy, serene, magnetic.
Eliana celebrated the art of walking a straight line. Tamar soul-sang to us.
Hannah recited poetry like a master.
Emma injected passion into every breath.
Rachel dug her song from someplace way beyond her throat.
Pesha and Menucha softly harmonized each other’s voices.
Shani taught us to thank G-d for everything, even a couch potato existence. Yael slammed to the tune of Rachel’s beat boxing. We stumbled to bed, awed.
Sunday was a fast day, so we woke up to learn some Tanya, laid low and cozied up in the lounge for Rabbi Friedman’s movie, Patterns of Evidence, followed by Freedom Writers, the story of racial integration into top white public schools. Watch ’em both.
What is a day without art? Food for the soul, folks. We did art today, too.
Monday was canoeing day. In Mille Laces Kathio State Park. How beautiful does that sound?
We hoisted our canoes onto the lake and rowed to the point where the water got kind of misty and the line between tree and water got blurred by the shadows. It looked like paint.
But life is not a painting. (Deep stuff.) The current was taking us in the opposite direction of the shore and only dead fish follow the current.
So we revved up our voices and dipped in our ores, syncing our yelled numbers to execute a smooth, (mostly) painless arrival at shore.
(Thanks to Eliana and Lara’s bravery and the promised Twizzlers on the bus.)
We did some DM, also known as Dock Meditation.
(Don’t doubt us. Uncamp is the captain of all things pioneered. Look out for it in this month’s medical journal.)
And then we, y’know, laughed with people we hadn’t laughed with in the past, uh, 5 minutes?
Unthought of the day, delivered in this cozy living room setting:
Don’t define yourself by anything. Don’t be secure in any “talent”. Acknowledge that fact that you struggle everyday to be thoughtful, but don’t consider yourself Thoughtful. Mess up once, and you’ve undermined your whole identity. You may be someone who usually chooses good, but that doesn’t make you good. It makes you someone who makes a consistent effort to choose good. You have the capacity for both. Neither one is your identity.