There is nothing else to write about, or talk about and no-one wants to hear or read anything more about “It.” I am going to challenge myself to write something else, so here goes.
A couple of weeks ago, it was “Go Unplugged Shabbat” or something like that. It sounded like a nice idea, but I didn’t observe it. This past weekend, for, um, reasons (!!!!!!!), I decided that I urgently needed to unplug.
I don’t think I have ever totally cold turkey done that before. A few hours here and there on Shabbat, but then, back at ‘er. With the exception of Yom Kippur, my own version of Unplugged has been to monitor emails but not to respond unless urgent, to check texts in case there is a family emergency, to check which Parshah it is so I can read it at home.
But totally unplugging for 24 hours was SO hard that it kind of scared me, like a marathon of waiting.
Being ripe old 60, I do remember LBTI (Life Before The Internet).
Yeah, we talked on the phone a lot. We watched our favourite TV shows and sang all the theme songs. We listened to the first wave of vinyl records, spinning on our bedroom record players. But we also talked, walked, read, practiced, sat outside, swam, and played games like hide and seek for hours until it got dark and our mothers called us in. I remember walking and talking to myself, working out the burning questions of my adolescent mind, or just sitting in a field, staring at the sky.
All Boomers have memories of life before all our technology. Going to be late for dinner? Hope your Mom won’t be mad. Friends had too much to drink at a party? Use their parent’s (home) phone and call a taxi. Missed the bus? Be late for school/ballet class/rehearsal and get yelled at. No texting from the bathroom stalls, no “where’s my phone/child/glasses” apps. Different times. We have mostly all embraced this new world, slavishly checking email, Facebook, Twitter, news channels, etc. etc. all day and all night, it sometimes seems.
So, yeah, it was hard to unplug, especially last weekend.
What did I do? Slept in a bit, took a bath and read, read the weekly Parshah and the Haftorah and found some great commentaries in books I’d forgotten I had. Prayed. Listened to music. Tried not to think about “news” I was missing. Tried to calm my mind. Went for a walk. Made a nice meal and did Havdalah (observation of the end of Shabbat) with Hubby with a braided and terrifying large-flamed candle (!!!!!). By then, I actually wished it had gone on a bit longer and only checked my phone and the news out of a sense of duty. B’emet!
This Shabbat, I’m going to listen to my Rabbi via Zoom (pre-Shabbat, actually, in a D’var Torah on this week’s portion). I have a variety of online services I can tune into. I will once again do my own version of a day of rest. I will try to unplug and unwind and tame the Tiger of my rambling mind. I am hoping it will be a bit easier and have positive results again.
I know we are all learning new things. For me, these include: making new schedules that really include time for recharging, stretching, and prayer; focussing on the things that I never get around to doing in my house (good-bye, 2010 chutney!); therefore, making a new pledge not to waste food or other resources; actively working at trying to keep my heart open, even when I want to scream because some people are acting like idiots.
Because maybe I’m an idiot too. I’m certainly way more anxious that my mother, who is seemingly unstressed and leading her normal life these days, as normally as she can.
We had a nice long chat today, and my mother cheered me up immensely by relaying in her inimitable Mama Joan fashion her story of rescuing a very large spider from her kitchen sink.
This is spider #3 I’ve heard about, and at the same time as I was trying hard to tame the Tiger in my guts asking why does my mother have spiders “the size of a saucer” in her house (???!!!!!!!!), I still couldn’t help but laugh out loud.
Animals are usually a “he” to my Mum, unless known to be otherwise (as in a family pet). It was the same for my Dad. Not sure why, a generational thing, perhaps?
Anyway, the boy spider.
He was big, and he was hiding behind the dishes with soapy water in them in the kitchen sink. Mum slowly removed one dish at a time, as Mr. Spider kept making his move to hide behind something else. Finally there was only one dish left. As Mum relayed, as she removed that dish, she also lowered her flower-shaped fly swatter (“the one with the petals”) down beside Mr. S. Sure enough, he jumped onboard a petal like Mum was a SAR rescue operator. Brandishing the flower/swatter, she slowly made her way to the front door.
“He waited, didn’t try to hop off, just like he knew I was saving him,” Mum said. “Of course, it’s so freezing outside, he probably died in the cold anyway.” “I’m not afraid of them,” Mum said. “They don’t bother me.”
I marvel at my mother’s spirit. She’s unplugged every day (except from her TV) and she can still laugh at the small everyday dramas in life.
Here’s to finding the small things that make you smile this Shabbat, and to small victories.
L’chaim, Mr. Spider.
PS she did say she was wearing gloves (!!!!!!).
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NB: We read the weekly portion from the five books in the Torah (Bible) each week in synagogue (Parsha); the Haftorah is one of the related Biblical books of the Prophets. In case you were wondering.
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