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Drawing Up Pace Lines

When I awoke this morning, I felt incredibly motivated and rejoiced in the positive manner in which I was viewing the world considering the letter S wrote to me yesterday.  However, that letter made me understand a few things I felt had escaped me, and my well thought-out reply helped to unburden myself and reduce the load regarding this situation a bit.

I left the house early on my bike from Givatayim and almost immediately felt a fatigue that ensconced my legs. So I began to pace myself.  No, I did not go slowly, but slow was not being called for, I just went slower.  Understand your limits, and understand that they change from day-to-day based on the unknown at times, and at others, due to choices we make. 

I arrived at school about two to three minutes slower than my great times, but nonetheless a good time of 1:11.  I taught with a passion today and during my long prep periods had a green tea that brought me back to life. Amazing what green tea can do.  Tons of research and lots of good thinking.  A wonderful tutorial session after school (so much to learn about Justinian) and then I had to make a choice as to whether I wanted to ride back home in conditions that frankly were unpredictable.  The wind was blowing strongly from the south and would batter me for the duration of the ride.  The sky looked like it was thinking about issuing forth a burst of rain. But I made the choice to ride home and knew that once again I would need to pace myself.  The elements of nature and the bodily fatigue were waiting for me.

About 15 minutes into the ride I lost far too much energy and knew that I would suffer if I did not stop at Time Trial (store for tr-athletes) and get some bars to eat.  I did this (damn, the chocolate ones were impressive) and thanked the Bar G-ds for refueling me.  Again, I went slow and steady though I did feel energy seep back into my system bit-by-bit.  I made friends with the head wind, welcomed it into my life, and decided to spin this situation into something positive (not something I always can or am willing to do).  The palms fluttered and swayed like Serengeti herds.  The Mediterranean had a phosphorescent glow to it and whitecaps dotted the expanse all the way to the horizon.  Bit by bit, piece by piece, traveling at a pace that assured me that I would have lots of energy so that when I got home I could sit, look at a few research papers, read a Photoshop tutorial on color correction, walk the dog...).

Sometimes, no, most times, I forget to pace myself and the mad rush that I find myself taking does get me there quicker, but far too often I find I sacrifice other things to meet an immediate goal.  Sometimes, like today, I have a bit of wisdom and jump on a pace line that that carries me to a destination, to a goal, perhaps not on time, perhaps not on the schedule that I set for myself or was set for me, but allows me to arrive at a given destination with both the will, desire and strength to better myself.  As a teacher, as an educator, it also allows me to help better others as well.

Few Poems of Late

“The Other Ages”

Even though she is enveloping inwards

Taking back her hair

Until it is so tightly tucked behind her ears

I still love her

Giving back a few years

She greets me at the door

With a large smile

She greets me in a stained sweat top

Not recognizing me at first

Then recognizing me

Or what she thinks is me-

She almost looks fearful

When I sit down

She offers me nothing

“Almost time for lunch,” she says

Unaware that I am hungry

“I have to go in a few minutes,” she says

Looking at her clock

Looking a little concerned

I walk her to lunch

Kiss her goodbye

And tell her I’ll be back tomorrow

She turns away

Turns back

And kisses me on the cheek

Then walks to her table

And sits waiting to be served.

Poetry of Politics-jrm

Poetry hides in the alleys of the old city, almost any old city, if it has character and has weathered storms and conflagrations of spirit only to rise again. 

Poetry hides in the streets of New York under manhole covers which seep white with steam revealing workmen in orange jumpsuits slowly climbing down and disappearing at last when their hardhats can no longer be seen.

Poetry hides in the first buds of spring in the Galilee, yellowed flowers surrounding ancient grey olive trees lighting their bark on fire like supernatural lightning bugs who have come knocking as invited guests, as they always do this time of year.

Poetry hides but tries to elude those with the hardest souls, for far too often they leave us, leave themselves, having missed their chance to ever realize this, making us all wonder what epiphany they would have had if they only realized that Poetry Hides.

Based on a Pin Left Open on a Table-jrm

Oh you’ve caught me again

Opened me up and left me

Ever so dangerously exposed

To your whims

Uncoiled like a snake

Warming on a Kansas road

When the sun has

Just started to come up

You have avoided me

Treaded lightly

In your favorite sequined top

That jingles in the wind

Yet I am ready

Somewhat dangerous

Somewhat functional

Sharper than you will know.

Another Home

To come back to my mother’s house, our house of so many years and this time close it down for the last time, was emotionally trying.  Can I compare such an event to moving her into assisted living? Probably not.  Both were incredibly trying in their own way.

Moving mom into assisted living was the right thing to do.  She was languishing in her home, and since she was no longer able to drive, found herself stuck there without human contact.  In fact, besides phone calls, she was without a great deal of human contact and resigned her interactions to that she had with the t.v. or the many phones calls from Peter and to a lesser degree me.

I asked a question on FB and it basically went, “Do these things find me or do I find them?”  I asked this for I kept coming upon important or interesting family photos, letters and documents that had a great deal of meaning in as far as my life is concerned.  My last four days at 25 Brownleigh found me spending up to 10 hours a day sorting, reading, and organizing.  It began to have an unsettling feeling on my brain.  I wondered how much I had become me on my own, and how much I was part of this genetic plan that was more clearly delineated as I read more-and-more of these historical Margolis documents.

I think over these days, I have learned just how much my mother and father loved one another.  I don’t believe I ever realized just how significant and wonderful their love for one another was.   Reading a good deal of what appeared to be their daily correspondence, which kept up for several years during the 40’s (!), I found that they had so many dreams and hopes for the future, yet also a deep and emotional desire for the present.   This is important to recognize as we sometimes put too much of our energies into the future when in fact our focus is better served in the here and now.  Seize the day and certainly seize the moment(s). 

I was saddened though not very surprised, that after all these years we are still unable to get along with our brother Steve.  I read so many letters that he wrote, or that I wrote, or those by my father lamenting one bad choice after another that he made.  We spent so much of our time and energy trying to figure out a way to keep him from destroying our family and even now so much effort has to be put into this endeavor.  I would like to chalk all of this up to merely a difference of opinion, but it is a difference of lifestyle, respect and approach to living.  I am again forced to realize that one chooses their roads and that bad luck, if there be such a thing, is transient and though unexplainable things do happen and sadden us greatly, there appears to this 54+++ year old that a great deal of choice in which we firmly have hold of the rudder, exists.

So this is the end of a long journey.  I leave my childhood house for the last time and now sitting here in the airport in New Jersey, recognize that nothing stays the same nor can it be expected to.  I wish my mother some great years at Chatfield and hope that she makes many friends and has numerous good times with all of us.  I hope that she in fact learns to love her life there and that everything will turn out nice for all of our families. 

We Hug

We Hug (Final day of my fourth year at Hippocrates)

We hug

Not for the tomorrows

Not for the todays

But for pieces of yesterday

Hoping to restore a semblance

Of the past

That might not have looked

So good when it was the present

But from this vantage point

Now seems so golden

We hug

For the strength to understand

That we can change

Our way of thinking

Our way of living

All the intricacies

Which are suddenly crystal clear

And have manifested themselves

Within our grasp should we choose

To extend our arms just a little further

We hug

Not to comfort ourselves

But to comfort others

Forgetting our own needs for just a minute

Realizing that we have something more to offer

Than just a nod, or a kind word

Something that only physical contact

Seems to truly convey

We hug

Not knowing if we will ever see one another again

Not knowing if we will have the opportunity to cross paths

Tell stories

Share our wisdom

Or sit silently together in wonderment

We hug

With a passion that is palpable

Deep into our inner core

Having seen the love of a mother caring for her daughter

The strength of men and woman

Who have been battle scarred

But not defeated

We hug

Without a dry eye

Without embarrassment of what others might think

Caring only in this moment that it might last forever

And that things will change

Things must change

We hug

Because we are human

Because we know

That this action in some way

Truly defines us

Truly makes us understand

The significance of why we

Were here in the first place.

The Big Happy

The Big Happy

Over time I danced the Big Happy

On both my left feet

Balanced tenderly at the point

Where up can no longer be sustained

But down has yet to be reached.

All this cosmic dust is starting to blind us

Well it’s blinding me

Massive tectonic plates are shaking off their rust

Yawning majestically like spent children

Shaking like puppies after their first baths.

But it’s after the half-way point

After the last turn on your way home

All the signs were taken down

So you forgot how you’ve gotten here

Yet it’s not magic

Not luck

Not an unequal equilibrium

That got this mess moving in the first place.

It’s you

It’s me

It’s our silence and contentment

With the Big Happy

That engulfs our senses

Sucks our marrow

Freezes us like quicksand in slow motion

It’s you

It’s me

Rushing off for another trial run

Trying to get the Big Happy

One more time

One last time.

Two Photos from Saturday

 I was taking photos of these trees when this group of Gazelles showed-up.  One must always be prepared when a group of Gazelle show-up thus I was able to fire off a few photos. 

Star of David on an old Ambulance.  This was easier than the photo above...it did not move.

Bit of Commentary

First:  I wrote an article about our experiences with cancer and the recovery from this.  You can click HERE to view the article.

Second, just went to Youtube and viewed the video by the alleged killer in Tuscan (I refuse to post his name as I don't want to really give him any free publicity).  If he did these shootings and killings, then he is going to fry in the Arizona heat.  What amazes me, however, is what others are posting on Youtube under his name.  I am sure in a few hours this will be frozen, and some have already been deleted, but I can't believe the amount of racism and insensitivity I am seeing.  One person congratulated him for killing a "jew" and then used a derogatory term in reference towards Mexican Americans whom were support by another victim of his rampage.  Are we so sick in this world that we can only solve our differences by murder?  What a sad commentary in fact.

Going...

Wow!  Another long journey in just a day from now.  How lucky, how fortunate I am to be going back to Hippocrates Health Institute!  We keep trying.  I keep perfecting how to grow the things that we are told are essential.  Sprouts, and sprouts, and sprouts are always being juiced at the Margolis house.  Slowly, I learn a new recipe here and there.  We deviate, and then we come back. E is so much better at this than me, thank-G-d. 

Though I would much rather be taking an adventure, I will also go to Connecticut.  There is an obligation one has to his parents.  This obligation, however, is fraught with frustration as the language of truth has gotten so distorted.  Thus, the need to be open and honest, right from the start, is ever so essential.  But do we really ever want to hear the complete truth?  Sometimes, it seems, the fantasy or the illusion of endless time on this planet, drives us unmercifully.  Being left alone on this planet is so sad too.  It's funny, one of my greatest fears is for nameless animals being left alone. 

Thus, this leads me to Forrest.  She is perhaps the most sensitive animal that I know.  However, I always said that about Candy.  I wonder, that as we get to know our animals better, we learn how amazingly intelligent and intuitive they really are.  The capacity to understand us and in fact understand their surroundings, stuns me.

So, to end this going, going, gone piece, I hope that something will change for the positive in this world.  I dream of a world in which our leaders do what is right for the people and are not immersed in schemes to line their pockets.  I dream of a Palestinian state living next to ours in a true peace that is not contentious in any manner and a free Gaza in which the weapons of war and hate have been set aside.  My fervent and ever naive desire is that we have figured out a way for those who are in the W. Bank can live their lives there and pursue their religious desires.  May our lakes run clearer, our car cleaner, and may all of us travel in safety.

Prayer bells in Florida...

I should have gone to sleep
Should have stopped thinking
Stopped reading
Stopped wasting so much time
Instead I am writing
Watching the hours slip slowly
Into a time when I need to awaken
To start again
And wonder why
I didn't go to sleep

Yarkon Park Observations

1.  The faster you go, the harder you brake (on a Saturday afternoon with all the people.
2.  Al Ah Esh rules (not a RAW crowd)
3.  It is one of the best parks for a hard workout
4.  The Yarkon still stinks
5.  Dogs off their leash are dangerous
6.  Kids on their father's lap driving electric cars are dangerous
7.  Friends suddenly appear
8.  Friends get flats
9.  Friends don't always know how to change their flats (Ha!)
10.  It is great to ride after the sun goes down as well-you feel like you are going faster
11.  A lot of people are in love
12.  64KM in which almost two hours was a constant grind, then 16 minutes of sprints (30 sec each) every 1.5 minutes, and finally a Tabata cycle, makes for a great workout.

FB is Dangerous

I need to look more carefully at what I say and what I write.  I have concluded that FB is very dangerous for one's health as the comments you commit yourself to, are suddenly there and far too obvious for others to suppose upon.  Even if you are just quickly venting, it appears that your jabs which might not have been your true thoughts, are grossly exaggerated in that venue.  I think blogs are safer.  At least I can go back and edit and lord knows this one is ever so anonymous. 

Sick...

How many days can one remain sick?  I've been fighting this cold for well over a week.  Seems to have a life of its own and it comes and goes like a dog through one of those cute doggy doors.  What a pain this is proving to be. For the past two night, as midnight approaches, I have developed this cough that has been almost strong enough to burst my ribs from their moorings (are ribs actually moored?).    This is has just got to stop already!

Went to Better Place today. You've got to see what they are doing to truly appreciate this wonderful electric car that will be on the market next year.  Way to go Shai as you are leading the world and reducing our dependence on fossil fuels. 

Three Barges in Amsterdam

Saturday Ride

1:05.31 to School this morning.  I think that's about the fastest I ever did this trip.  On and off-road of course, and averaged 28.4.  Total 30.97  Average cadence 86/Average temp 30/Heart Rate 136/  Was truly enjoyable to have this amount of energy for the first part of the ride. The second part, another 43.67 K, was more sedate.  Threw in 10, 30 second intervals.  Then did traffic light sprints in Tel Aviv.  Average temp for the second part was 35.  Can't wait for a little cooler weather. 

From A Son

It has been 26 years today.  You were now alive almost as long in my life as you have been dead.  What a strange number this is. 

There are a good number of positive things that you passed on to me (negative too but this is not the time or place to list them!).   Here are just a few as your candle burns significantly on my counter at home:

1.  You taught me to value the well-written word, phrase, passage, and extended text. 
2.  Books are important
3.  Nature can be found in your backyard. 
4.  Grow things
5.  Believe in  yourself it is not important in the end run what others say about you.  Define who you are via your actions and integrity.
6.  Read the manual
7.  Understand that you are no better than anyone you meet or deal with. 
8.  Work hard

The power of PS.  I took out an annoying plug to the right and there is nothing to show.  It once ruined the photo.  Now it is gone.  Very helpful.