Tuesday, September 18, 2012

Bicycle, Bicycle, Bicycle... I Want to Ride My Bicycle


A week into June I got on my bike to go for a ride for the first time in 9 years and discovered I wanted to do it again the next day, and the next, and the next! I have spent a significant number of hours riding my bike this summer. At the start of the season, I averaged 8.5 mph, now as we are transitioning into Fall I am averaging 12 mph. My first bike ride was 5 miles long and included a great deal of stopping to rest. My longest ride thus far has been 30 miles (and included a lot of stopping to rest). 

I am stronger and healthier, and I am not one pound lighter or one inch smaller. No lie! This fact could have been the defining truth of a very frustrating summer, but as it turns out it could not matter less to me. This has been among the most exhilarating and wonderful summers I have enjoyed as an adult and it all began with a decision to get on my bike and visit a friend.

Passing Landscape on Chena Hot Springs Rd. 

This fall I will be 45 years old and what I can tell you is riding my bike now is a lot like riding my bike when I was 10. I am able to get myself where I want to go on my own power. I am smart enough to find my way, strong enough to go the distance, and I am free! Free to go slow enough to really enjoy the world around me: weather, nature, people. Free to stop and talk with friends I meet on the path. Free to go farther from home than I have gone before, free to go a little too fast, or dawdle on my way home.

Over Labor Day weekend, friends and I drove out to Rosehip Campground on Chena Hot Springs Rd. and from there we traveled (a very slow) but delightful 30 miles to the hot springs, where we swam, soaked, made new friends, and really appreciated being driven home. Along the way we talked, enjoyed the view, chatted with others traveling on the same bit of road, and I realized, that in addition to all this, riding adds to my sense of purpose. 

A sense of purpose that grows with my increasing capacity, adjusts for my setbacks, and helps me stay connected both, internally and to those around me.  On the day we traveled to Chena Hot Springs the purpose of the trip for me was simply to pedal in good company farther than I had before.  I have discovered that each day that I ride my bike for at least five miles is a guaranteed good day and every mile after that just takes me closer to a truly awesome day. 

This is an unexpected discovery to make in my mid-forties and like any time we find ourselves in unfamiliar territory there are risks involved. On my bike, these range from navigating potholes and puddles to sharing the road with forces bigger and more powerful than me, but with risk comes tremendous reward. Including a new way of seeing the landscapes both, internally and externally, all of which continues to unfold before me as I pedal farther than I have before. 











Saturday, July 21, 2012

Benjamin Keener in Honor of his Bar Mitzvah

When Ben was 7 years old he asked me to be his G-dmother.  He talked with his parents and our rabbinic intern about this idea. The following summer we celebrated Ben's 8th birthday and afterwards I offically became Ben's G-dmother, below are  the promises I made to him that day and recall with tremendous pride on this day as our community celebrates Ben as a Bar Mitzvah.

Sometimes in life, our direction is clear, we know where we are going, and how to get there.

Sometimes life is more confusing, the way is less clear, and we find ourselves creating a new path.

There is often value in following in the footsteps of our mothers and fathers, building on their experiences, and benefiting from their wisdom. It prepares us for days when our lives demand we make our own way, having benefited from the experiences that have brought us to this moment, and perhaps even allow us to prepare the path we are walking for future travelers.

You have been blessed with many who love you and who will guide you. I am honored that you chose me to be among them. In asking me as your G-dmother and working with our rabbi to create a ritual to celebrate our new connection, you already show you have the ability to make your own way as well as the ability to identify who might have the wisdom to help you when you have questions.

Benjamin - May you always be blessed with kindness and caring for others. May you always know friendships like the ones I share with your parents. May the direction of your life include many choices.  Some choices will be small and others BIG enough to change your whole life! I wish both for you.

Each choice will have a story. Each will come with challenges and promises. I assure you
each of us here will have thoughts to offer and advice to give about what choice to take, which path to follow.

But you can also count on me to listen. Listen to you and help you listen to the deepest parts of yourself. You can count on me to encourage you to trust what your heart hears as you have new experiences, grow in wisdom, and choose your own way through this life.
Photo by: DonBarrington Intrepid Images


Monday, July 16, 2012

Ripe for Shabbat


Shared Abundance

Firm curves
yield
to a sharp edge

Seeds, escape injury                                                          
slick, slippery, sliding
thru a wound

Poorly timed
to their
pregnant purpose

Slices lay
like memories
overlapping and afloat

Pale green leaves
cradled
in warm folds

Uncomplicated
abundance matched
with heat

Wholesome,
seductive,
nourishing.
  
  - Jennifer Eskridge

re: a meal shared

Be Kind

Sunday, July 8, 2012

Another Vision of Forever

Beyond our ideas of right-doing and wrong-doing,
there is a field. I’ll meet you there.

When the soul lies down in that grass,
the world is too full to talk about.

Ideas, language, even the phrase ‘each other’
doesn’t make sense any more.

That field is where I live.

-Rumi
13th-century Persian Muslim Poet

Saturday, June 30, 2012

Forever

I rarely use this forum to discuss religious ideas, mine or anyone else's. However, lately I have found myself both asking and being asked about my ideas of forever. So, consider this forewarning. In this post I am unpacking both, my personal understanding of a Jewish after-life as well some of my personal ideas and questions on the topic. I will write Hebrew words and phrases in transliteration (phonetic spelling) and I will supply short definitions as needed.

If this is not your cup of tea feel free to skip this post and to the rest of you please feel free to share your own thoughts or ideas from your belief systems. This is not meant to be a definitive answer, merely an unpacking of ideas.

A  Jewish Frame of Reference:
Jewish texts make very few references to an after-life or what may happen after death. This is because Judaism is focused on actions far more than beliefs. The result is that our texts describe the mitzvot (commandments) we are expected to fulfill in this earthly life. Successfully living toward this purpose brings reward, failure may bring punishment, whether either will continue after death, or whether anything occurs after death, is not considered relevant to the task of living.

Neither the Torah (the Jewish Bible), nor the Talmud (Rabbinic analysis of the laws that inform Jewish daily life and practice) discuss an after-life in any detail. There are references to Olam Ha-Ba (the world to come) but whether that is one that exists in a heavenly realm or is simply a reference to a future time on earth is unclear. Neither view is considered the definitive Jewish position on the matter.    

In the Mishnah (a written redaction of Jewish traditions referred to as the Oral Torah) we find the majority of the texts referencing Olam Ha-Ba (the world to come) both as descriptions of the messianic age (a time of universal peace and brotherhood on the earth, without crime, war or poverty) or to describe an after-life.  

Mishnah (chronicled Oral Torah) tractate Moed Katan (essays within Mishnah and Talmud) teaches us "This world is like a hotel. The world to come is like a home."  However, even in imagining an eternal home we are told 'Better one hour in repentance and good deeds in this world than all the life in the world to come.” Pirkei Avot (essays within Mishnah and Talmud) reaffirming our actions here should be the focus of our efforts.  


What did Jewish Sages Think Forever Would Look Like?
References to a heavenly after-life are few. Ideas of what a heavenly world to come might look like differ widely and while there are very few references to heaven there is even less said about an eternal punishment or hell.  

The concept of hell was never extensively developed in Judaism. Its origins are in a specific site (a physical and decidedly earthly location), the Valley of Gehinnom, a valley that was the site of a heathen cult whose rituals included burning children, ( II Kings 23:10 and Jeremiah 7:31) and even the souls who find themselves in this valley are not expected to stay any longer than 12 months. (Babylonian Talmud, tractate Eduyot 2:10)

Throughout our history our sages have taken strong, sometimes bold, positions of what to expect from eternity, much of which informs Jewish thought today:

·         Rabbi Akiba states clearly that any punishment that is part of an after-life is not eternal.

·         Moses Maimonides (aka: Rambam) maintained that the pious of all the nations of the world have a portion in the world-to-come. (Jews and Non-Jews alike)

·         Babylonian Talmud, tractate Taanit suggests that the righteous will sit at golden banquet tables and lavish banquets are described in the Babylonian Talmud, tractate Baba Batra.

·         Johanan Ben Nappaḥa tells us that the three central activities of life in the world-to-come are celebrating Shabbat, enjoying sunshine, and making love.


From these early descriptions it seems clear that there is an expectation that we will inhabit our bodies again.  However, Judaism considers our bodies and souls as completely integrated, much like the first being God created: God created man in His image, in the image of God He created him; male and female He created them Perhaps this is why sacred texts refer to the “soul of man” as “her,” but where the soul resides at the end of an earthly life until it is reunited with a new body or its original earthly form is less clear. Contemporary rabbis and scholars have offered their own interpretation of an after-life.


·         Rabbi Milton Steinberg wrote of the lasting influence of each individual on the world. This, he claimed, is our immortality. “Death cannot be and is not the end of life. Man transcends death in many altogether naturalistic fashions. He may be immortal biologically, through his children; in thought, through the survival of his memory; in influence, by virtue of the continuance of his personality as a force among those who come after him; and ideally, through his identification with the timeless things of the spirit.”


·         Rabbi Roland B. Gittelsohn promoted a different variation of biological immortality. “Our bodies no longer live after death, but they are then transformed into other kinds of life. The energy and chemical elements from our bodies go into the soil, where they help make flowers grow and directly or indirectly provide food for plants, animals, and human beings. So as we come from nature, so we return to nature.”


·         Rabbi Bernard S. Raskas took these two concepts and joined them in his writings. “I was with my people when they were part of the exodus from Egypt. I stood with them at Mount Sinai to receive the Ten Commandments. The pronouncements of Isaiah pound in my blood. The sayings of Akiba are sealed in the cells of my brain. The message of Maimonides is part of my mind. I experienced the Holocaust and shared in the agony of my people. I participated in the birth of modern Israel and the ecstasy of my people for I am a Jew, a corporate part of my people. I say this, not in arrogance, but in awesome humility. As a member of the Jewish people, I am immortal.”


My Incomplete Thoughts on an After-Life
To be honest, until recently I hadn’t really given forever much thought. I am preoccupied with the here and now, sometimes to the point of not fully considering the outcomes of choices I make daily – so you can see how life after death might not make it on to my radar too routinely.  

 As part of my Jewish education I was familiar with the contemporary rabbi’s positions mentioned above, which I read as not mutually exclusive of one another, and had adopted as the most reasonable expectations about what we can know happens after death.

 As for the Talmudic sages, I am indifferent regarding gold furniture or lavish banquets, but Rabbi Akiba, Rambam, and Johanan Ben Nappaḥa do each envision a world to come that I’d be more than happy to take part in. Again their ideas are not mutually exclusive of one another, they seem to have reasonable expectations about the process of transitioning from this life to the ones they describe, and so if it turns out theirs is the more accurate description of a world to come I am prepared to spend eternity this way.

When I have considered the possibilities of an after-life I have primarily thought of it as a function of our ability to imagine. This is a powerful and well developed skill, even in very young children. We visualize other worlds daily in this life. Over the course of history we have imagined cures for disease, responses to famine, the ability to fly, and in time each has become part of our reality, so why not forever?

Certainly this could be an extension of the Jewish ideal to create paradise on earth, but I do not think it has to be limited to that concept. People are rich in imagination and resourcefulness. What could be a more natural culmination of those human traits than turning a lifetime of experiences and ideas into a “world” we create to sustain the final remnants of our minds/souls as our bodies cease to function.

Is there more, less? Probably, I am still new to this line of thinking and I am hoping to hear your thoughts regarding possibilities I have not even considered imagining yet…  

Saturday, May 26, 2012

More: Image Inspired Fiction & Poetry

Jedidiah Paneak Photo byThalia Jacobs

Touch
Brief Fiction By Lander VerHoef

     A flickering fluorescent bulb painted the room in harsh tones of blue and white that matched the chill in the air. A young man sat, huddling into his coat. He was hardly more than a boy, of that particular age when body and mind and soul are stumbling towards adulthood. Weariness hung heavy on his eyelids, and heavier on his heart. He was far from home and in his short life, had never felt more alone. And then she stood before him. A friend, and maybe, when he dared to hope, maybe more.
     "Hi," she said, and reached up to touch his face.
     Her hand was like fire against his cold skin, and warmth flooded his face. He covered her small hand in his, almost fearful she would pull away. She didn't, and as his eyelids fell, his heart rose. He closed his eyes, and smiled.

Tuesday, April 24, 2012

More Image Inspired... this by my friend Lander


Girl on a Boat
By Lander VerHoef 

I came with my camera to tell the tale of the war, or so I thought. I stood on the dock as the boat pulled alongside. A young Vietnamese girl, perhaps eight or ten stood just across the rail from me, and I was caught by her eyes. They were old, older than a child's, older than mine, older than imagining. Those eyes had seen...
    
But whatever they had seen, I saw only myself reflected in them, a young white man in fancy shoes, a shirt soaked with sweat, and an expensive camera. And in those eyes was a question, and an accusation: "Why are you here?" I discovered that I had no answer, so I raised my camera and hid. But every day since I took that photo, I look at it and the young girl's old eyes ask me "why are you here? Why are you here? Why are you here?"

Thursday, April 19, 2012

Yom Hashoah


Silent Illumination

Plunged in darkness, boxed
Barricaded, with no where to look
Gazes’ unseeing, freshly bruised
Open mouths still clotting

Taking refuge in shadow
Mothers, their angles grown sharp
Pierce skin stretched too thin
Seeping apprehension

Colorless light swings across  
Glassy eyed sisters who hold off the
Gripping cold, fear fueling
Their umbrage

Silhouetted, supple, wary
Daughters, whose eyes are open
Wide, uncomprehending
Certain they misunderstand

Early morning light filtered
Through a sky bathed in smoke
Mothers, sisters, and daughters
Collected, sampled, and sorted

Glistening shorn scalps, stripped
Likewise stained by fear, their sameness
Revealed, is of no consequence
No one looks

The glare of exposed bulbs  
Collective exhaustion of feet
Faltering, resisting, what eyes
Will not see 

Color smears the horizon
Emerging into that last bit of light
Flushed with hope, still unaware
Others who seethe, curl, and drift away

Monday, April 9, 2012

My email address was down. I think must have change a filter by accident when updating my domain name. If I missed an email from you I am sorry, that said, jennifer@workingink.com is up an receiving e-mail once again.

Look forwarding to hearing from you.

Tuesday, April 3, 2012

Image Prompts

 After reading some very visually rich and compelling essays by my friend Lander I found myself thinking about the power of visual prompts vs. written ones. Our conversation had begun with a brief discussion of film as a story-telling medium. A picture may be worth a 1000 words, but what the picture has to say needs to be scrutinized, because it is no less malleable than language in its ability to misguide us. Truth aside, the power of language and film combined to convey depth of experience seems nearly limitless to my mind and for awhile I will be experimenting with both mediums. Please share your thoughts on employing these mediums. I'd love to hear from you.



Image Prompt 1 -    Chinatown

I did not expect
to love a face
So like my own.
Still, here we are,

Lanterns, round and pale,
Flex against their supports,
Like Chinese Apples
Dropping before a frost.
 
Our feet follow
Worn cobblestones
Announce our urgency
We climb your stairs

Young trees
Bending, pounding
The field with
Ripe exotic fruit.

jee 2012

Sunday, March 18, 2012



Is Google Making US Stupid?

This article is less about Google and more about brain function.

The idea is that technology we use to write (pens, typewriters, computers) and the primary medium we consume as readers (printed work, online, languages that use characters vs. alphabet)  shapes our neural circuitry.

  What you think?

I care less about right and wrong here, because whether Google is making us stupid or not, it is here to stay. 

We are no more likely to stop reading online than sighted individuals are to choose to read braille over printed text.

The question for me is if we still desire the ability to develop (or maintain) "the ability to interpret text, to make rich mental connections" how do we proceed?

Tuesday, February 14, 2012

It is time to add more visuals to my blogging world. So, in the future you can click on the tab above that reads ample ARTworks  to see some of my creative endeavors.  However, just as often you will find links to others, truly incredible talents, whom I have had the pleasure to stumble across as either a traveler on this planet or, when very lucky, as friends.

enjoy,
J

Monday, February 6, 2012

World Wide Communication


Worldwide Communication

It is a quiet day at UAF’s Museum of the North. My daughter’s class tour is over, the children are bundled-up, back on the bus returning to school, and I have a bit of time to look through the exhibits before my next appointment.

On the second floor, off to the side of the Rose Berry Alaska Art Gallery, is an understated panel which reads The Place Where You Go to Listen.  Except for this missive identifying it, the closed door was otherwise unremarkable.

The room is narrow, not more than 200 square feet in all. The ceilings are high. There is a single low bench for sitting.  The space features 14 high-fidelity speakers, 20 feet of glass paneling stretching 10 feet high on one wall, and on this occasion, holding up the opposing wall is a young couple engaged in a sustained form of tantric kissing.

Since the wall is occupied, I sit on the bench and face the softly illuminated panels. The acoustic and visual compositions I am experiencing are unique to this moment and yet they are comprised of every moment that has preceded it. I am listening to time. I am seeing consciousness. I am a little overwhelmed. The Place Where You Go to Listen, an installation created by composer John Luther Adams, is an extraordinary fusion of art and science.

The exhibit is shaped by an advanced series of algorithms creating music from data streams measuring dozens of factors: the progression of night and day, the phase of the moon, different levels of cloud cover, disturbances in the Earth's magnetic field, and us - each of us - as we exert ourselves in the act of living. The light and sound in this room chase patterns, give voice to variation, and illuminate all this information in real-time.

In Alaska’s interior, the smell of wood smoke, the crunch of snow beneath boots, soft shades of new color sweeping the hillsides as winter takes its time melting away; these are the data streams we pull from. Trees which become a blur of pale green leaves, improbably resilient during the brief and fickle spring, and later explode into full summer foliage, are the algorithms, which, inform our choices for the coming season: when to take off the studded tires, how to vote on the Clean Air proposition, or if we need to split the rhubarb before the next growing season.

What if we could experience the planet with the same degree of familiarity? What if we could see or hear the impact of our choices on the environmental well-being of our world in real-time? Would we each take a more active role in securing sustainability? I am absorbed in the effort of sorting out possible applications of a technology that can receive and interpret this data and convert it to immediate feedback for the public when a tinny note ripples through the air. It unfurls into a deeper, more resonant tone, and is punctuated by a booming before shifting again. I wonder if the lovers behind me are adding their own seismic activity to this experience.

I leave behind the couple still unraveling their own mysteries; quietly close the door, and consider how the phrase “Worldwide Communication” has taken on a new level of meaning for me.