Goodbye 2008, Hello 2009

I can't believe 2008 is almost over. Looking back, it amazes me how much things have changed and how little is the same as it was last year. I've lived in 3 cities this year, and in every city my life has changed and evolved into what it is now. Jerusalem taught me about being healthy and active; St Louis taught me how to maintain and sustain a healthy lifestyle; New York City has taught me how to survive on my own in a crazy place full of too many crazy people.

So much has happened, so much has changed. In many respects, 2008 was the year I came alive (which I find somewhat ironic, seeing as though I am sitting here alone on New Year's Eve doing absolutely nothing--please don't remind me of how pathetic I am, I am well aware of it.) I learned all about health and life and living to my very best abilities. I learned about commitment and sustenance and opening myself up to new possibilities. I entered myself into the dating scene, and while it has yet to be successful, it's a big step for me. I found confidence and strength within myself; confidence and strength that had always been there even though I was blind to them. I opened myself to Hope and Love, to positivity and prayer, to breath and calm. I created a life that I love, contained in a body that I'm learning to love, wrapped in a soul filled with beauty and love.

For all the crap that happened in 2008, it's been a pretty great year.
And I made that happen for myself.

I don't like the idea of New Year's Resolutions, as I'd rather set attainable goals for myself and allow myself to change them as I see fit. So as we welcome in 2009, I set the following goals for myself:

1. To go to the gym a few times a week, and work with a trainer a couple of times to figure out how to best strengthen my body and spirit (Dave, could I tempt you to fly to NY on a weekly basis? :))
2. To continue eating healthfully, trying new fruits and veggies and learning new and exciting ways of preparing healthy food.
3. To keep dating, be it J-Date or other more conventional methods.
4. To continue my quest to love my body, and to learn to see myself the way others see me.
5. To think positively, to pray everyday, to find the beauty in everyone and everything.
6. To thank God everyday for the miracles of life, breath, song and spirit.

We'll see what gets added on to this list as the year progresses.

Finally, to all of you who read this, thank you for your constant support and love. You make such a difference in my life and in my ability to rid myself of this "heavy stuff" that's plagued me throughout my life. May your 2009 be filled with light, spirit, love, joy, friendship, and much happiness.

thanks for your patience

I know I've been bad about posting as of late. There's been so much going on, from the simchas of my brother's and cousin's graduations to the sadness of my cantor's losing her job. Lots of emotion, and so much of it has left me exhausted emotionally and physically.

I've learned so much about synagogue politics and infrastructure within the last 2 weeks. There has been so much I've needed to absorb and to come to terms with. There has been so much I've learned that I've never wanted to learn, and I wish my cantor didn't have to lose her job for me to learn these lessons. The whole thing disgusts me and makes me sick, though I see the reasons it needed to be done. The hardest part is yet to come, when I sit down with my childhood rabbi on Friday morning and ask him how this decision came to be. How is it possible to express your anger and disappointment without burning the important bridges you need for your professional career?

I've spent the last 2 weeks at home in St Louis. I've been a friend to Linda, trying to help her cope with her terrible loss. I've been a shoulder for my brother who is trying to deal with life as a college graduate, with no job prospects due to this shitty economy, living at home again, and girlfriend troubles. I'm trying to help my mom as much as I can without letting her get to me, and it gets increasingly difficult as the days go on.

Sometimes, after a long day of dealing with everyone else's crap, I just want someone to hold me and tell me everything is going to be alright. I know how cheesy that sounds. It makes me want to vomit, too.

But it's true.

I've also been disgusted with myself. As a result of all of these goings-on, all I do at the end of the day is eat food I don't need. For example, today I've eaten approximately 4,679 reeses peanut butter cups, along with huge chunks of the muffins my mom brought home and something like 17,000 pieces of cheese. This is emotional eating to the extreme, and while I do feel as though I have good reason for it, I also realize it can't continue if I want to continue fitting into the size 18 pants I've recently bought.

Is it bad to wish I could just hack huge portions of flesh off of my body and whip myself into a new person, with a pretty flat tummy and perfectly toned arms? Maybe in my next lifetime...

Upon my return to NYC, things will be changing. I'm joining a gym, for one.

Until then, I press on.

Livid

The cantor from my home synagogue, who is my mentor and inspiration and good friend, emailed me today to tell me she was "let go." She is 61 years old, there are no pulpit jobs available in the STL area right now, and she is devastated. The rabbi and congregation president made the decision to keep all 3 rabbis on staff and let go of the cantor to earn back some of the huge deficit they've accumulated over the last few years (hiring that third rabbi when you couldn't afford him sure was a smart move, huh?)

I am devastated about this. Her job was her love, her family, her livelihood. She isn't married, her children are grown and living on their own, so her position really was the one thing that kept her going all this time. She so clearly loved every note she sang on the bimah, every student she taught, every word of Torah she so beautifully chanted. Now, at her 30th anniversary of service to the congregation, she's being disposed of. Just like that.

My synagogue has always been my escape, my place of refuge. Her voice has carried me from this crazy world straight to God on so many occasions. How can I go back there knowing she isn't there? How can I sing the happy-clappy crap melodies the assistant rabbi sings (out-of-tune, btw) knowing the cantor should be there and isn't? How can I go back there knowing that Jewish music is no longer an important part of the congregation I was once so proud to be a member of? I have a feeling this is the end of my tenure at this congregation--the congregation that I know by heart, that is filled to the brim with wonderful people and memories and so much spiritual and personal growth.

It makes so sad to think about that.

Rabbinical students who read this, please don't let this happen again. Find other ways to cut your budgets. Don't do the same disservice to your congregation that my rabbi is doing to mine.

I am livid right now. And instead of eating my feelings, I am writing about them...we'll see if it works.

Amazing Day

I just came back from my first ever Feldenkrais lesson. For those of you who don't know what Feldenkrais is, it is a method to help align your body to teach your body exactly how every part relates to another. For example, our teacher had us focus on the sensations we felt in our legs as we moved our neck from side to side (that's putting it simply...the actual exercise was slightly more complicated.) It's an easy, minimal-movement kind of exercise designed to increase self-awareness and help you realize the impact of every movement you make on every muscle and bone in your body. Pretty awesome.

At the end of the lesson, we were asked to slowly stand, feel the sensations on all sides of our bodies, and slowly walk around the room. As I slowly stood, I realized that my body was naturally aligned in the position my voice teacher has been wanting me to find for the past 3 months. I walked with poise and strength, gracefully, without trying to do anything. I was so aware of my body in that moment; for the first time, I experienced--both in looking and in feeling--what my body actually is at THIS moment. After standing still for a moment and listening to what my body was telling me, and then sneaking a peek in the mirror, I had a shocking revelation. Instead of the heavy, droopy body from 100 pounds ago that I carry around with me normally, my body was what it is RIGHT NOW. Totally present, with no association to the past or to the future. It was such a shocking and remarkable discovery for someone struggling with the idea of accepting herself physically for exactly what she is. It also felt pretty damn good to see a tall, graceful body in the mirror, standing proudly in the moment.

It's interesting to think about how I perceive my body in relation to dieting. Until today, I never realized that my thoughts towards my body tend to revolve around the person I was at 300+ pounds OR the person I will be once I lose the next chunk of weight. Maybe that's a reason for the body dysmorphia issues I've been experiencing as of late. Instead of allowing myself to see the Tracy I am right now, I spend too much time thinking about the Tracy I was or the Tracy I will be. The Tracy who is typing this right now is pretty damn great, just the way she is, with her past and future there merely as "bumpers" to keep her going in the right direction.

Feldenkrais is EXACTLY what I've been looking for to realign my body, to build my own self-confidence in who I AM (not who I was, and not who I will be) and to help me realize my body's place in the world right now. Pretty cool.

Too bad it's so expensive and only available at the elite health clubs in NYC. My music theory professor is actually a Feldenkrais facilitator who can snag me free passes once in awhile (which is how I was able to get into this particular class) but I know the real effects will only come after continuous study of the method. Maybe someday...

I continue to be amazed at the learning moments that God and life throw my way, and my ability to embrace them wholeheartedly.