• Let go of control

  • MJ

    Member
    June 7, 2020 at 12:44 pm

    Letting go
    Hi fellow writers. I thought I would write a poem about control and letting go and I still think I will get there but my thoughts came out more like an essay.. and when I thought it was over.. it continued again.. strange.. still hoping the poem will come tonight.. but sharing my thoughts now.
    I have a hard time letting go. I have a hard time letting go of the results of my actions. I have a hard time letting go of control. I have a hard time letting go of feelings. I realize that sometimes I don’t pick things up as I will not be able to let go. I know that I am being absolutely ridiculous. Control is just an illusion. In truth I am powerless. I am powerless over my health, wealth, children, spouse. I am powerless over my own humanity. I truly know that only Hashem is the All Powerful. Hashem held by hand in the past, He is currently holding me in His arms, and I do not need to fear the future as I know Who holds the future. I need to take all my worries, all my fears, all my reservations, and throw them up to Him. He is waiting to catch them, actually He has been holding them all along, but I need to let it go, in order to feel the freedom. I may be powerless, but I am not helpless. I am empowered. Empowered to let Hashem take over the driver seat. I need to feel, what I always knew. I can only try my best, I can only plant the seeds. I then need to sit back, relax, and Hashem will let everything sprout and grow. Hashem knows what each of my children need, Hashem knows what I need, Hashem loves me and Hashem loves my children, more than I ever can. Best of all, there is no limit to Hashem’s love and abilities. I am so grateful that I know this and feel this.

  • riva pomerantz

    Administrator
    June 7, 2020 at 2:24 pm

    MJ, what a vivid journey through life that you encapsulated here in this beautiful, heartfelt prose. This is exactly the deepening journey: moving from a childish notion that we are powerful and in-charge, to being dashed by the stunning realization that we are actually powerless over everything and then becoming reborn, in a sense, and completely empowered when we connect ourselves to the knowledge it’s Hashem, the All-Powerful, running the show. This imbues us with infinite love, strength, and the most profound sense of safety imaginable. Thank you for sharing this. I am so glad that you are here!

  • Esther

    Member
    June 7, 2020 at 5:03 pm

    OMG what you wrote!  Like you totally got into my head.  So true…thank you MJ for expressing all that so well for me.

  • Esther

    Member
    June 7, 2020 at 5:06 pm

    Can’t wait to read the poem.  You actually inspired me to write my own, let’s see if it will come.

    Isn’t poetry special but annoying like that, how it either writes itself or it doesn’t??

  • Kayla-Oppenheimer

    Member
    June 7, 2020 at 6:58 pm

    Thar was beautiful MJ, that’s just about the stage I’m going through. You expressed it authentically and from the heart.

    Isn’t it special that sometimes when you actually let go, you can feel Hashem’s love and light, even if for a few moments?

    A most heartwarming piece of writing MJ

  • Leahle

    Member
    June 7, 2020 at 7:42 pm

    I love your ideas MJ! Go ahead and write!!!! It will come… don’t worry…

  • MJ

    Member
    June 8, 2020 at 6:15 pm

    Esther,

    Yes! Poetry either writes itself of just doesn’t and as my extended families (unpaid) poet, some of my relatives dont understand when they ask me to just come up with a few lines for them.. it can either take 60 seconds.. or just not happen.. glad to have someone who relates.

  • Esther

    Member
    June 8, 2020 at 6:42 pm

    MJ, totally.

    When I she heard that I was writing something about my ancestors, my grandmother sent me a beautiful photo of her in the wedding dress that has been worn in the family for generations.  Along with a bunch of articles about it.  My relatives thought maybe I could do something with it.

    I was touched but at a loss and really pressured.  I started all sorts of things that didn’t work, and then this poem just wrote itself.  (OK, with a lot of siyata d’shmaya, hard work and help from my mother and uncle.)  It is packed with references that mean a lot to my grandmother, and we printed it for her on wood with the picture in the background.  It came out stunning.  I feel like no one will really know what went into it, but I am so grateful that I could give her a gift like that.

    (She has lung cancer.  If anyone could say a perek of tehillim for Miriam bas Devorah, that would mean a lot.  She’s not doing so well.)

     

    A  Dress for Generations

     

    You see this aging bundle

    Of heavy satin and lace

    Lying in a calico bag

    With dignity and grace

     

    Some years ago

    I might’ve been quite new

    Now I seem to show

    All that I’ve been through

     

    But, don’t judge just yet

    I know a tad more than you

    Of the places I’ve been

    You haven’t a clue

     

    Did you ever realize?

    That aging is earned

    Tune into my whispers

    There’s much to be learned

     

    When the year was 1900

    I became a creation

    Of custom-made beauty

    Worthy of celebration

     

    Then the time finally came

    Rica Moses was the bride

    In the Great Synagogue

    My skirts puffed with pride

     

    And what a nice surprise

    When after a while

    At Babe Kaiser’s wedding

    Again I walked down the aisle

     

    The third time’s for Pam

    Not in Vaucluse House (yet)

    With a special string of pearls

    Family traditions are set

     

    From faraway Holland

    Lily of the Valley is brought

    For a Kinneil Court reception

    Bombed Alaska is sought

     

    Then I sat in Sydney and waited

    Until the move across the sea

    In New Zealand I don’t know

    Now what will be with me?

     

    Sue’s wedding is a treat

    And somewhat of a scare

    Oh, will there be enough lace?

    Please – handle me with care

     

    At my age there might also be

    A touch of hysteria

    As I’m escorted out

    To stand under the wisteria

     

    Spread around the globe

    Is the next generation

    But it didn’t work out

    To show at their occasion

     

    My creases now creak

    Those seams aren’t what they were

    I must take it easy

    If I want to endure

     

    Still, why stay in Balquhidder

    And do no-one much good

    At the Sydney Jewish Museum

    I can show all that I’ve withstood

     

    I’ve so much contained

    That I’m rich and I’m full

    Much more than your eye sees

    A life certainly not dull

     

    Now you understand

    That I’m not just a dress

    I am a legacy

    Your legacy, no less

  • MJ

    Member
    June 8, 2020 at 6:55 pm

    Wow! Love it! I am sure your Grandmother Loves it as well. Wishing her a Refuah Shelima

     

  • MJ

    Member
    June 9, 2020 at 12:11 am

    The poem was born. I’m posting it under the poetry section:)

  • Anagrammer

    Member
    June 11, 2020 at 4:02 pm

    Esther: [quote quote=18320]Isn’t poetry special but annoying like that, how it either writes itself or it doesn’t??[/quote]

    Exactly. I get into moods. For weeks I can let out lines and lines of poetry and then —————————-. Silence for 2 years. I scribbled poems straight through 9th grade and then in 10th grade I was asked to write a poem for something (how does that work exactly?? Aren’t poems supposed to be bursts of emotion?), it was blank. I cried and cried and wrote some terrible poetry (and a lot of fiction!). Then in 12th grade, it came back full force, and I couldn’t stop.

    Esther, your poem is gorgeous! I noticed a correlation between these 2 quotes :). Much like the gown itself, your poem contains layers of meaning hidden beneath the surface.

    [quote quote=18428]I feel like no one will really know what went into[/quote]

    [quote quote=18428]Of the places I’ve been You haven’t a clue[/quote]

  • Esther

    Member
    June 11, 2020 at 4:27 pm

    Sharp!  Didn’t pick up on that.

    My theory is (and I forget where I heard something like this) that since writing is a kind of יש מאין, which cannot be created my man but only by G-d, we are actually being given the words.  We are not making up anything, Hashem is, we are only His emissaries to put it on paper.  Or screen.

    So we can have meaning in our work that we did not consciously put there and do not immediately recognize.  And things will sometimes just come together.  Hence the “writing itself”.  Or not, if it’s not meant to be.

    Creepy, no?

    Anyone have a source to back this up?

  • Anagrammer

    Member
    June 11, 2020 at 4:44 pm

    I don’t have a source, but I heard Riva talking about the יש מאין concept in a workshop.

    And by the way, slightly off topic, but in Rabbi Noach Weinberg’s 5 levels of pleasure, ‘Creativity’ is a second-class pleasure (because of its יש מאין nature).

  • Esther

    Member
    June 11, 2020 at 4:57 pm

    Cool, thanks!

    Maybe that is why we get writer’s block.  Hashem is saying, not now.

  • Anagrammer

    Member
    June 11, 2020 at 5:26 pm

    Actually, a therapist once told me that one of his clients was a (professional) writer for many years, but suddenly got an extended period writer’s block. She became very anxious about it, and was unable to function until she heard this idea of יש מאין and understood that her writing was never ‘hers’ all along. Knowing it wasn’t hers when she had had it empowered her. She hadn’t lost anything after all; nothing had left her. Hashem would give it back to her when He deemed it right. When I heard this account, it helped me ‘let go of the control’ a bit, and ward off those panicky feelings of “What’s happening to me?? Why can’t I write now? Maybe I really don’t know how to write after all??” that attack me at times when I can’t get anything coherent out. And another thing I heard from Riva – תפילה. It really helps.

    MJ, poem or not, this piece of prose really got me thinking. It’s a struggle we are all facing now – with all this ‘not knowing’, today, tomorrow, next year. And how all our ‘plans’ are not even really plans. Just maybe ideas. It’s only, only Him. Checking out the poem now… 🙂

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