At-One-Ment

Crap. I missed Yom Kippor. The one day of the year when I fully embrace my jewish roots with fasting and reflectiion for 24 hours.

Usually, I head to a forest with a river or lake and I spend the day walking, writing, listening and being intentional about what I want my next year to hold.

Yom Kippor, or the Day of Atonement is my favorite Jewish holiday. I find it incredibly helpful to take a day to myself in order to reflect on my past year and thoughtfully create the next one. There's no food in my gut to weigh me down.

Anyway, food is not what you are supposed to think about on this day (hard as it may be when your belly growls and mind gets spacey).

Moments by the water are most powerful for me. This usually comes later in the day, after I have pin-pointed the things in my life I would like to change...or what aspects of my self are no longer helping me and my chosen path.

Water is incredibly cleansing and transformative so I ask to the river to take them away. River stones work beautifully for holding and asking for transference of old emotions or patterns that no longer suite me.

Spending the day in Synagouge never suited me. My temple is the forest, the river, the trees, the sky. That is where I connect to G-d. That is where I feel most fully grounded and most fully my self. In my temple, I can not pretend. It is impossible. I have tried, believe me. Looking back on times when I tried to convince myself that everything was fine, when it wasn't; that we loved each other and it would work out, when it couldn't; that the path I was on was right for me, when it wasn't. When I am in my temple, the truth always wins.

The one and only thing I miss about the traditional day spent in synagouge is the sound of the shofar. It is a truely soul shaking sound, and it is repeated numerous times throughout the service.

This brings me to WHY I missed Yom KIppor. My father came into town for the weekend. That needed to be prioritized.

Luckily this practice is something that can be done on a different day, but Tommy in town is less flexible.

If I am not for myself, who will be for me?
But if I am for myself alone, what am I?
And, really, if not now, when?

Here is to At-One-Ment.

Ayer y Hoy

A Beautiful day yesterday in Grado at the beach...truly stone-cold chillin'.

Not the most beautiful beach I've ever been to (that was hands down north of San Juan del Sur on the Pacific coast of Nicaragua at an ecotourist lodge...cliffs, sand and colorful rocks; water you could look at and be in for hours) but a much needed day in the sand and sun.

The beach was followed by getting lost in the car on our way back to a brown risotto with clams, stir-fried eggplant and peppers, ensalada and two kinds of cheese that are local Friulini cheeses.





All of this with the fabulous Ilivio that we have bought three bottles of as it is not available in the states. Ilivio turned into sipping different types of Amaro (bitters) and another Felluga that sounds like its named after a Rabbi, Rosenplatz. A bottle of a beautiful lambrusco was then topped with an 11 year old burghandy that Matteo offered out so we could taste some aged wine.


Ay-yuy-yuy. I slept hard last night.



Today we go the mountains for the night. We've only been seeing them from a distance. More on that to come. More on everything to come.


The morning was spent strolling through Udine visiting the market, and stopping at 12:30pm for an apperitif of wine and bread/cheese/meat (hell if I don't go home 5 pounds heavier). This is what made me smile. Every table had wine on it. Matteo said they'll have some wine and then head home for lunch. What a social, sassy and styley place this was!!! Next came the gelato.Wow.

Mi Coneto con il mio Leone

Matteo, my Leo friend. Its fun to see him again and be in his world of little Italy. I say little because I havn't seen anything big yet. Small towns, small vineyards (people's yards, really), short hours for any business, small and fabulous and warm colored.

These pics are from a strolling adventure me and Lace took today. Our plan was to bike, but after too much time trying to fill a tire and move a seat lower for my little legs, we just walked. Threw some beautiful, moldy cheese, olives, cherry tomatoes and carrots in a container, grabbed a bottle of Susso...a red made by Livio Felluga (where Matteo works), and a glass jar from the recycling box to drink it with. Alas, we were on our way out into Italy.

Strolling on small streets with expansive views of fields of corn, wine grapes and cute houses with clay tile roofs we looked, chatted and smiled. Yee haw. Hello Italy.
Ciao. Took a turn up what looked like a park or trail system. Couldn't really read the sign, but it had the feel of an interpretive sign you'd see at the entrance to a park, so we headed up. At least there wasn't a no tresspassing sign which I've come to recognize.

Corn, love, goats, and ideas sprinkled into the corn as we walked by like dust that lifts as we walk. Every step we take, every day of our lives moves some dust into the air that was previously stagnant. We are energetic beings and as we move dust and settled molecules, it sets other things in motion. Movement begins.

And never ends. Every time we move: follow a whim, move a few extra steps to smell a flower or touch a stone we create change however small you see it. It moves and keeps moving.

Every choice, every deep breath, every arms-lifted stretch of your spine creates change. Even thought is movement. "If thoughts can do that to water, imagine what they do to us". Masaru Emoto's studies of human thought on water molecules is outstanding. Check it out here if you haven't heard.

On our way back we stopped at a "bar". They didn't have much but Lace wanted an espresso. So I joined her (this travel is all about indulgance). I also got some wafer with chocolate-hazelnut filler that was delightfully dipped in the holy-strong-and-bitter-espresso, or as Matteo told us later, its just known as a cafe around here.

Moments filled with cameras, food, drink and relaxing today. What will tomorrow bring. I am going to drive in Italy. Scary. These folks drive like new Yorkers but crazier. We're going to visit Matteo's vineyard tomorrow and tag along while he does a tour and tasting with some foreigners.