Where am I? Where have I been? Where am I going? These questions keep smacking me in the face when I look up, open my eyes, and shake my head in total disbelief that I am where I am…and where I’ve been is in the past.
I was in Estonia 3 weeks ago. I was crying my not-so-tiny heart out on my friend’s shoulders in Latvia on August 23rd. I was in Dallas with my mom, my family, and friends not even 2 weeks ago. And here I am, September 15th, a week and half into living in New York, one week of work under my belt, and gearing up to leave for Washington D.C. for my first work-related trip tomorrow.
Where am I?
At a Starbucks in the Upper West Side.
But really: In some sort of whirlwind. That’s’ for sure. The thing is… I know who I am and what I’m doing more than ever…those two align seamlessly. And yet, the people surrounding me make it all feel like home. So when I look up at the tiny Spanish bodegas on my street corner in Brooklyn, or hear Russian whiz past me as I stroll through Central Park…it just all feels right. Like it was meant to be. Or rather, I made it be.
And I’ve gathered that I am where I am – not because ofwhere I’ve been, but what I’ve done with where I’ve been, what I’ve seen, what I’ve felt.
I refuse to speak of Estonia in the past-tense, I’m not quite ready to let Estonia go back there. I’m holding onto it, trying to keep the memories active and buzzing – the people within arms-length. Or Skype-reach. I can’t, yet, dig deep into the year and all that it has meant to me – I want to sum it up and say “it’s meant everything”, but it filled certain holes, specific places that needed filling. Places that have made me more me. I am more me.
I feel good.
My heart literally tightens at the thought of the beautiful, giving, and fantastically special people in the Baltics. Thinking of them can turn a 45-minute subway ride into 5-minutes. And yes, hearing Russian in public spaces could not give me more joy than a CLIF bar and a vanilla latte. That’s big joy.
Getting messages from my kids saying, “We miss you”, “We love you”, “Our meeting was not the same without you” – Yeah, that kills me. These kids who are across the ocean, touching Russia, a ferry-ride from Finland, these kids think of me? They have to know how much I think of them – holding back my love for them was never an issue.
And these thoughts, these images hit me differently. Most times I’m sad knowing they’re so far away…other times, I’m just so happy and grateful we keep in touch with one another. And that I was able to experience the magical year I wanted so badly – so badly. And I got it. I made it mine, and here I am.
At a Starbucks in the Upper West Side.
One week of work under my belt. Not just any ordinary week of work; meaningful work. Work that intertwines with what I believe in right now, and what I wish to see in the world – with people who care, with people who are on the exact same page as me. That makes me feel good.
I’m on some sort of cloud. Not sure if it’s cloud-nine; but it’s a cloud a little higher than the Brooklyn bridge – I can see Estonia, I can see Brooklyn, I can see Manhattan. Dallas, you’re there too. My co-worker shared a “Jewish saying”, that sometimes your head can be where you are, but your soul might be slowly trailing behind, taking its’ time to catch up with your body. I believe that. It’s happening. Currently. Like, right now.
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My soul is taking its’ time, and I’m not going to push it to go any faster.
Oh, but I have so many good stories of my first week in Brooklyn and Manhattan! I think, what I’ll do, is create another blog by the name of…
Where I start a fresh chapter/page/blog roll, accounting my stories of living in a place that is unlike any other place I’ve lived in – I’m talking way more culture shock than Kansas AND Estonia combined. This should be good. This should be interesting.
Thank you SO much for following me on JENSTONIA the past year! Your readership, commentary, and presence has meant so much to me – and it will continue to as I navigate my next journey in Brooklyn and Manhattan.
Bahh! I’m back in Tallinn. All eyes are on you, friends. Well actually your eyes should be on me.
So much has happened since I left for summer camp in Lithuania almost 2 months ago – all good things too.
First of all, camp was magical: Being able to play sports every day with 200 kids who speak 3 languages was probably one of the coolest things I’ve done all year.
You want to know something though? When I appointed myself as Sports Director, the staff said it might be “weird” for the kids because I’m a girl. I smirked and simply stated, “just wait.”
They didn’t have to wait. In less than a few hours on the first day of camp, I had kids coming to the courts after breakfast, before lunch, after lunch, during ‘rest time’, and even begging me to come to the lake and bring a ball or two with me. I’m not questioning whether they wanted me or the balls – you shouldn’t either.
“Jennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn”, they would scream… “futbol?”
“Davai!” or “Let’s go!”, I would say – probably more excited than them.
“Jennnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn”, they would scream, “I love you!”
“I love you too!”, I would say – without an ounce of hesitation.
“Jennnnnnnnnnnnnnnn”, they would scream, “say “One Direction!””
“One Direction!” I would scream – they loved my American accent.
I perfected the words “adin bolshoe kruk” or “one big circle” and “dati myatch” or “give me the ball” in no time; some of the kids reminded me of my very own campers I had a while back, and some reminded me of my closest friends I had growing up.
At the end of the session during the closing ceremony, the camp director called out my name – I sprinted to the stage, but froze for a few seconds when I heard, “Jen, Jen, Jen, Jen, Jen, Jen!” 200 kids chanting my name. I took a mental video, completely overwhelmed by the love from these special kiddos.
It’s hard sometimes to see the impact you make, and this was my gift – probably the best gift I could ask for. And now after 2 sessions of camp, I have 400 new Facebook friends and continued positive, fluffy feelings about my year as a JSC Fellow in the Baltics.
Camp reminded me why I went for 15 years in the first place – it’s the ultimate therapy, the best getaway there is. You become completely consumed with being in the moment – not worrying about a single thing back home or 15 miles up the road, your role is to entertain kids (coolest job ever), sing really loudly, dance your feet off, and write cool blog posts like this one:
Beyond that, the kids were so inspiring: Their youth, their energy, their unjaded perception of the world and their inherent trust in people, their lack of inhibition. When they want something, they go for it. We should all be so brave throughout our entire lifetime.
This is me VERY happy to share Estonia with my new American friends.
Immediately following camp, I staffed a week-long trip through the Baltics with 21 teens from 7 countries. 10 of which came from America, 2 from Bulgaria, 2 from Poland, 2 from Estonia, 3 from Latvia, and 2 from Lithuania. You could say my job there was to keep ALL of the kids connected – continually drawing the kids from Europe to the kids from America together, pushing each one to have a real conversation with someone different. Burning bridges, debunking stereotypes. What did I learn? Oh, good question: I learned that Americans are really loud. And Europeans are… just really cool. Sometimes too cool.
We saw reviving Jewish life in each capital city, meeting with dedicated teen leaders and community lay leaders; we saw memorials near mass graves where 70,000 Jews fell victim; we talked about Jewish identity, community responsibility and philanthropic ideologies. We tried to wrap our heads around the atrocities that happened in these areas during the holocaust, we cried, we lit candles, we sang prayers and read people’s stories. We hugged, we laughed, we talked about life and our favorite things. This was the BEST final tour through a region of the world I have called ‘home’ for the past year. To spend a week with Americans and Europeans in the Baltics was that “collision of 2 worlds”, and could not have come at a better time – exactly one week until I depart for the land of red, white, and blue.
I am also ecstatic to share that I’ll be continuing my journey with JDC Entwine in New York. I found out while I was on the trip, and this was my face upon receiving the email:
This face also needs to find an apartment in NYC – so if you have any information! I’m all ears – like really all ears, I’ll stop talking now.
Not.
1 week left in this INCREDIBLE year-long LIFE changing experience. I have made some of the best friends I could ever ask for in 3 countries, and I cannot wait to take that home with me – the friendships, the conversations, the laughs, and a few (cough) goodbye tears. I’ll be an emotional mess this week, but don’t let that fool you: I am so excited for my new job, in a new city, starting a new chapter that was 100% influenced by the beautiful chapter I’ve written here.
WARNING: This won’t be the final post, so don’t cry. Be on the lookout for the final words of Jenstonia once I land in New York and begin a new blog. Yes, that’s right, new blog! *blog name suggestions wanted*!
NewYorkStonia maybe? Think about it…think about it.
“I live in Estonia” – I’m going to miss saying that.
As I approach the last 3 months of my service in the Baltics, I can’t keep myself from swatting away the surreal nostalgia bug. “We’re going to miss you, you know?”, my friend casually said to me last night as we traded sushi rolls and sipped on the house white wine, which tasted more like water – exactly how 3Eur house wine should taste.
As I catch the water trickling from the outside of my wine glass, I tell my girls how horrendous and non-graceful I will be when the time approaches for me to pack my belongings and ship stateside; literally covered in tears, slobber, the works. The thought of waking up the first morning in my own bed in Dallas, not in my cozy little apartment in the city center of Tallinn, is enough to get my tear ducts exercising and heart dropping well past my stomach.
When you think about it, it’s really not okay. I mean, it’s going to be okay (it always is), but this experience is so deep, so meaningful, that nonchalantly removing myself from it and carrying on in a place that leaves no semblance of the streets I walked or the people that turned into the best of friends… that’s a damn crime, guys! It’s my job to keep the door on this time cracked open; keep the memories alive and the strong network of friends and colleagues in touch. I know that life goes on, people are busy, but shutting the door completely is a total non-option. In fact, I’m thinking about signing up for Russian courses immediately upon return. Ya neva know, right?
But for real, living and breathing an experience that I’ve always yearned for is two dozen blessings and more. For the most part, I am consistently warmed and overjoyed by this once-in-a-lifetime opportunity, its’ impermanence reminds me to chronically smell the roses. I haven’t taken enough time the past month to sit and reflect on my rose-smelling; thankfully the whole blog maintenance concept remains in the back of my head. You should know I say to myself daily, “oh! I’ve gotta write about his!”… but it just keeps happening. Good things worth sharing keep happening… and this girl is not complaining.
Here is a piece I started writing 3 weeks ago:
I’m eager to write to you beautiful people tonight!
Hmm, you may be pondering, why is this night different from all other nights? Splendorful inquiry.
Some of my exceptionally close friends from here and home have been blessed this week. Never in my young adulthood have I experienced a heart-pounding, joyous tear-bursting, up-in-arms wailing kind of reaction for these special moments in life. Oh so this is why they make bridesmaids movies? The passion to plan and take action is burning through my fingertips already. Because when they’re close to you, it’s love on an entirely new level.
And that’s all I wrote because I had to jet off to see the baby, talk to the engaged couple, and get ready for a wedding.
But looking back and reading what I wrote, it is love on an entirely new level when the people are close to you.
So, yes, all those things happened the first week of June. The next week I coordinated the first-ever Estonia and Finland teen exchange program; I mean, the countries are literally 8okm away from one another, the logistics minor (especially with teens who just want to touch each other), and now 23 years since the collapse of the Soviet Union… these kids have Jewish friends up north. Not only that, but they do things a little differently there, so instead of battling for ways to learn more and keep things fresh inside the bubble…they’ve got a literal exchange of knowledge to further enrich their own spaces. Their bubbles are expandable. Fancy that – and just a ferry ride away.
And now I’m en route back to Tallinn from Riga; I spent the weekend in London with my brother – first time I’ve seen the guy since JDC JSC Orientation in August! Right when I hopped off the plane I tubed to the BBYO UK & Ireland office to see what was going down there – I can tell you that would not have been the first thing on my “vacation” list a year ago. I never even had the connection or knew there was an office in London. So I sat in a planning session with some handsome men running the show, and off I went to bond with brother in Central London. Our flat ridiculously good looking and nestled between Notting Hill and Hyde Park. Did I tell you my absolute favorite movie (right before Billy Madison) is Notting Hill? I mean, guys, I fell in love. I just did. It happened. Like if I had no problem with a socialist government and the ludicrous prices of London, I’d live in Notting Hill. My hypothetical vision of living there was proven when I walked into a bar and heard, “uptown girl, She’s been living in her uptown world / I bet she’s never had a backstreet guy / I bet her momma never told her why”, Billy Joel. My man. In a bar. In Notting Hill. Oooooooo-kay.
Anywho, the weekend was great. The weather was quintiessential humid, rainy, London. But I still dug it. My brother and I did what we do and dabbled in some oyster-eating, wine-drinking, and career-trajectory-talking. Not gonna lie, London was a nice break to the West – I forgot, however, how material our little world was… and the material is soooooooooooooooooo good. Such great boutiques and creative brands out there. I’m so out of the loop. Actually, I think anyone not living in London, Paris, New York, or LA have to be out of the loop. Sorry if you’re in the loop and you don’t live in any of the above cities. If you live in the loop in St. Louis, you’re more literally in the loop than anyone. I’m done.
On Friday, I go to my homeland for one month: LITHUANIA. You know, that country once linked with Poland as a region home to the largest diaspora population between the 16th and 19th centuries? I’ll be there for one month of Baltic regional summer camp. Yours truly will be directing sports and cheer-building. I figured in my last few months here, I wanted to contribute to as much as possible… these kids are about to get sports training like never before. I’m talkin’ UNC runs, knock out, Swedish soccer, you name it. It’s happening.
I’m off for now and hope to find a few moments to update you while I’m in Lithuania! One last plug for the Baltics (or at least Poland and Lithuania): If your roots are from here and you’re able to board a plane, please visit. The further we get from an area, which before the war, provided such a lively, supportive infrastructure for Jews to learn and succeed in relative peace… the more it erases from our memory, the more we disconnect from our roots and how we are able to flourish today. I will strongly state that it is only ignorance which keeps us from returning to this part of the world; it is safe, beautiful, full of smart and dedicated people, and you’ve just gotta do it if you can.
As I look beyond my living room window to the once totally barren trees, I see a different space than what I’ve grown used to; I see a forest of green and a bright blue sky that stays lit for all but four hours. A new season, a new chapter from the universe to differentiate spring from winter, spring from fall.
It is stunning here. I am constantly taken back to September, when I first arrived in Estonia, when the trees were flavored with a plethora of reds, yellows, and oranges; when it was all new and I was creating the first steps in the first chapter of my Estonia. I rewind a little further, all the time, of the days back in Dallas when I spent hours upon hours on Google maps (street view) – literally walking through the streets of Tallinn with my index finger on touch-screen glass for days on end.
I had a massive map of Northern Europe sprawled out on my mother’s dining room table for months – she was thrilled! I studied the map, picturing my frizzy-haired self at a miniscule coordinate, wracking my brain to comprehend I was only kilometers away from mammoth Russia and genital-shaped Finland.
I now do the same in the real life – imagine myself as a tiny blue dot on a map, surrounded in people, places, cities, countries I never thought I would be so lucky to be so close to; the vision of my frizzy-haired self as a tiny speck on a map keeps me humbled, keeps me permanently pinched to remember where I am and how special it is that I’m here.
<– my frizzy and friends in Latvia
And that’s how I feel almost daily. The longer days and greener trees help, for sure. The last few weeks of winter I might not have felt so humbled to be in the presence of 6-month old ice and grey skies, but hey – new season, new chapter right?
In the past month I’ve traveled to Budapest, Vienna, Prague, and Berlin. I spent a week total traveling from East to West, fascinated with everything these unique cities had to offer. I saw some incredible sights, met some interesting new people, reunited with old friends, and experienced what I could without a plan or expectation in sight. Due to the nature and focus of my year, I chose to focus on Jewish life in these cities; history, movements, growth, revival and renewal.
It was hard, really hard, to go to cities where Jewish life was vibrant before the war, walk through countless cemeteries, unused Synagogues, museums, and preserved artifacts. Berlin became my opportunity to catch a breath of Jewish renewal, ironically in a city that has some of the best displays of experiential and interpretive memorials I’ve ever witnessed.
The JSC Fellow in Berlin was my key to understanding current Jewish life; after pointing out Hitler’s underground barracks, which is adjacent to one of the Holocaust memorials, she took me to the Jewish Quarter. We roamed through streets displaying commemorative lines where the Berlin wall stood, into an area buzzing with life. Hebrew permeated the air, schwarma and falafel restaurants stood in plain sight – I felt like I was in a city that left zero remnants of its’ infamous division. This is exactly what I subconsciously hoped to see and feel in an area that was as close to the West as it was to the East. At least on the surface.
I felt proud to fly home, eastward to Estonia, to a space that has also jumped leaps and bounds from its’ previous Soviet domination. I was also surprised to finally walk on a ground completely free of ice and negative temperatures. Ayyyy-men.
The past few weeks have been a total thrill; work has been most productive and gratifying, the long days demand a boost in social life, and as each day quickly passes I find myself falling deeper in love with Tallinn. It’s a problem. I’m addicted.
I’ve befriended my neighbor who is a pianist, Jazz lover, and king of cultural activities in Estonia. He’s shown me more Tallinn the past 3 weeks than I’ve seen the past 8 months. I’ve seen live Jazz, been to an abundance of underground bars, seen the best of Estonian design in ex Soviet factories, jumped on rooftops I never knew existed, and was this (___) close to hopping on a midnight train to Russia. And somehow, unexpectedly, the first few pages of my spring chapter have been off to an exciting start!
But that’s not all: On late Thursday night, another American volunteer landed in Tallinn. He will be here for the next 40 days – working on projects with me, seeing the Baltics I’ve grown to love, and creating his own personal journey in this beautiful region of the world. I know for sure my life here will spice up exponentially having another volunteer by my side – and I’m so pumped to see how my days continue to twist and turn in this new season, new chapter.
On Friday, the teen leaders and I had our last Teen’s Program; the program was about Shavuot – so we decided to take a modern interpretation of the 10 commandments and create commandment-oriented scenes throughout the city. The teens got a map of Tallinn with X’s on them and had to perform challenges like “Chubby bunny (stuff your face) with marshmallows by the harbor” (from the commandment: Do not covet); or “Sneak a shopping cart out of the supermarket” (from the commandment: Do not steal); the program was a hit and we had more attendees than we’ve had the majority of the year – we got some great photos of the program, so enjoy them below!
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Wishing you all a happy start to the summer season!
Before I get into it, I’d like to take a second to recognize just how cool Estonia is
Listen to this Estonian band:
Tallinn Music Week: 4 – 6 April / 233 artists from 20 countries / http://www.tallinnmusicweek.ee <– Check out that lineup!
E-estonia: How did a small, post-Soviet nation transform itself into a global leader in e-solutions? Learn more here: http://e-estonia.com/
And well, there’s me of course:
It’s above freezing today, so naturally I’m sitting on a rooftop in Old Town..
Now do me a favor if you have Instagram, Twitter, or Facebook: I’ll use Instagram for this ‘exercise’ – I want you to search the hashtag “Pesach” or “Passover” or “Chag Sameach”
Take a minute or two to check out the photographs posted under the aforementioned #hashtags. These are Seder tables from all over the world. I’ll repeat, ALL OVER THE WORLD.
Here I go: Freely celebrating this holiday that commemorates an enslaved time nearly 3,300 years ago. Not only freely celebrating, but showing the entire world through photos, hashtags, and Facebook posts that Jewish people around the world are not ashamed. No, no, not ashamed.
Times like these reaffirm my total adoration for the power of Social Media (especially when it combines my favorite holiday).
20 years ago on the “Eastern Bloc”, where Soviet Expansion suppressed all forms of religion, matzah would not be a 12 year-olds Facebook cover photo. 10 years ago, no chance in hell would a group of teenagers feel comfortable with opening the door for Elijah in the middle of the city center – in a building built under Stalin, on a street that used to be called “Hitler highway”. But that happened last night. Celebrating freedom from suppression, from humiliation, from utter disdain and hatred – the meaning of Passover had never felt more real to me than it did this year (5773).
Growing up, my friends here didn’t celebrate Pesach at home –a reality that was reiterated to me at the Seder table on Tuesday night. “I was a Soviet kid” I was told, something I tend to forget as we live “normal”, day-to-day lives in Estonia.
I look back and see myself in public school (in Texas, mind you), proudly wearing my Star of David and bringing matzah to lunch. I was one of the three Jewish kids in elementary school, and by day 2 of Pesach I had my non-Jewish friends begging me for matzah. That was in 1996.
The teens that I work with in Estonia were born in the year 1996. The Soviet Union retreated in 1991. The Estonian Jewish Center was centralized and rebuilt in 1992. The only synagogue in Tallinn was built in 2007.
I have no idea how Pesach was celebrated between 1992 and 2012, but in 2013 (5773) I attended 3 Seder’s in Estonia – that’s 3 more than I expected to attend. The first night I went to the only synagogue located in Tallinn’s City Center; that evening, the synagogue hosted two Seders – one for Russian speakers and one for English speakers. I went to the Russian one.
I figured if I wanted comfort in an English Seder, I could go home to Texas – and I certainly wasn’t doing that. I sat near my friends and the other 20-something year olds as well as the President of the Synagogue and his wife. In no time, the President, his wife, and I spoke the language of wine and ensured our glasses were full before the Haggada told us to fill. I spoke my broken Russian, they spoke their broken English, and we sang the songs in Hebrew we both knew. I couldn’t help but smile the entire Seder knowing all too well that this is the experience I wanted. I wanted this. This is partly what I signed up for, and this is what I’m getting.
Russian Hagada with my name written in Russian letters
I’m in a county where taking pride in Judaism was unheard of not so long ago; and here I was, sitting at the Seder table celebrating my most loved Jewish holiday in the only synagogue in Tallinn. 60 other people around the room unafraid to be in the city center bitter-herbing their matzah and dipping their potatoes in salt water. Not only that, but I was speaking their language and connecting – something I don’t think I could have done 6 months ago. “Krasivaya devushka” the President’s wife would say to me as we “L’chaimed” to another glass – she was calling me beautiful. She whispered to my friends in Russian, “She looks like such a Jewish girl!” I giggled while my friends pointed at my overly-blushed face and said, “eta ocheen pravda!” or “that’s very true!” and proud of it.
I was so grateful for her warmth at my first Seder in Estonia. She gave me a comfort I didn’t think I missed while celebrating a holiday that’s usually so family-oriented for me.
The next night I went to a friend and colleague’s house for round two of Seder’ing. All in our mid-20’s and early 30’s, some pregnant, some recently married, some soon-to-be married, and some happily single (that’s me!). The Seder totally improvised; YouTube clips from ‘The Prince of Egypt’ and Louis Armstrong’s “Let my people go” displayed from the 3D flat screen TV. Angry Birds played between meals. The best part: As we went through the Haggadah, we played popcorn around the table and read aloud text in Estonian, Russian, Hebrew, English, Latvian, and Bulgarian.
All 12 of us spent 20-minutes searching for the Afikomen even after our search area options were narrowed to 2 rooms. A humbling experience. And as the night progressed, iPhones and Galaxy 3’s came out and photos projected of possible bachelors for the happily single; “No, no, next, next, not happening, meh, not bad, hook me up!” I think I was still wearing my 3D glasses throughout the selection process.
Oh, and then the strangest thing occurred! While engaging in a community Facebook’ing session, someone at the Seder table said, “I know some girl from Dallas”. I jokingly replied, “Yeah, I probably know her and the other 7 million people that live in that city!” But yeah, it happened, you guessed it. The dude pulled up a picture of someone I know very well. WHAT ARE THE ODDS? “We met in Spain at some bar”, he said. I questioned, “Did you tell her you were Estonian because I’m about to use Facebook like never before”. At 2:00am on the second night of Pesach in Estonia, I was talking to my friend in Dallas confirming she knew my friend in Estonia. “And I think to myself, what a wonderful world…”
This is why I love Pesach. The improvisation leads to more improvisation. I might add, whoever developed the Seder service, the visuals, and the grub really gave us stuff to work with. The Seder table holds so many multifunctional props that make going beyond the Haggadah and improvising so unbelievably appealing. This is what I’m all about though: Having positive experiences. It might be super reform, left, or not traditional of me, but it keeps me wanting more.
On Saturday night, I held a Seder at my apartment for teen leaders to celebrate a job well-done their first time being counselors at Estonia’s Spring Camp “L’haim 2013”. Remember when I mentioned them jumping up to greet Elijah at the door? It did happen, and here are some photos from the night!
Before Pesach, I was in Pedase, Estonia (about 60km from Tallinn) for Spring Camp. More like winter camp really, as the snow was very, very present. Like too present. One week full of dancing, singing, cool programs, no sleep, and carb-fueled camp style meals. Except unlike camp in Missouri, USA, they had tea for breakfast. Which was funny and cute to me, and once again proved I was not in Missouri or the United States of America.
Someone once asked me where I am truly myself. My answer to them was “camp”. The image of running around with blue paint all over my face, wearing two different pairs of shoes, and screaming a camp cheer with 50 kids around me is where I am so myself it hurts. So when I was able to do this once again at Estonia’s Spring Camp, you can imagine how ME I felt.
Co-counselors and staff would ask, “Jen, what do you think of camp in Estonia?” My response, “I love camp!” You might have tea for breakfast, sing the Birkat (blessing after the meal) a little differently, but to see kids jumping around to songs in Hebrew, coming up with their own cheers, getting dressed for Shabbat and feeling more connected than ever…camp is camp and camp is GOOD!
I’ve had a magical past 2 weeks here in Estonia, and am looking forward to much more. Please, just tickle my fancy one more time and check out those hashtags, Instagram photos, and Facebook posts. If you’re not into Jewish holidays or find it hard to wrap you head around how 3,300 years ago connects with modern times, don’t wrap your head around it. Know that it is a remarkably beautiful thing that anyone with a smart phone, a Facebook or Twitter account, feels empowered and SAFE enough to share their traditions with the rest of the world. Oh, and the best part is that people “like” it.
Where am I? Where have I been? Where am I going? These questions keep smacking me in the face when I look up, open my eyes, and shake my head in total disbelief that I am where I am…and where I’ve been is in the past.
But really: In some sort of whirlwind. That’s’ for sure. The thing is… I know who I am and what I’m doing more than ever…those two align seamlessly. And yet, the people surrounding me make it all feel like home. So when I look up at the tiny Spanish bodegas on my street corner in Brooklyn, or hear Russian whiz past me as I stroll through Central Park…it just all feels right. Like it was meant to be. Or rather, I made it be.
Getting messages from my kids saying, “We miss you”, “We love you”, “Our meeting was not the same without you” – Yeah, that kills me. These kids who are across the ocean, touching Russia, a ferry-ride from Finland, these kids think of me? They have to know how much I think of them – holding back my love for them was never an issue.
:: jenstonia :: 