When Asked: How do pro-choice people respond to the question “What if your mom had aborted you?”

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Instead of boring you with the usual response, let me tell you the story of an unforgettable moment I experienced just a few hours ago….

I volunteer at my local Jewish Community Center in Palo Alto, CA.

For the record,I am not Jewish, nor am I religious, but I respect the rights of those who wish to worship in any way they choose. I also think there is a lot to be learned through studying the history of every religion and its people.

The people where I volunteer are lovely and I love my job and get to help out during a fantastic, weekly cultural arts event called Community Tuesdays(open to the public).

Today, the program featured an amazingly talented singer and accordionist of Yiddish music, Jeanette Lewicki. Her show was entitled, Belarus to Brooklyn: A Time-Traveling Tour of Yiddish Song.

I wasn’t sure what to expect, but she led us through a history-rich, captivating tale of song and story that was both interesting and beautiful.

She explained each song’s translation, origin and any special history, prior to preforming each song in Yiddish. She eventually came to a particular song with a story old as time, about a woman, that had originally been recorded and/or sung by a man.

I will recount the introduction she gave as best I can:

“A young woman of meager means from a small village in the old country,comes to rest at the edge of a green river, holding a new baby close to her full breast.

She calls to the little fish in the river, so she can whisper to them a story. She has a secret to tell them. She wants to introduce them to the babe in her arms.

She tells the little fish that they will soon know and then forget her baby, who she will never forget. She drops her baby to the bottom of the river for the fish to feed upon and walks away.

That was it.

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This Love.

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Joy, beautiful spark of divinity.” ~ Ludwig van Beethoven via poetry by Friedrich Schiller

This Love.

This love, torturing me. Moving my tender heart ceaselessly with its exquisitely painful, yet beautiful song.

This love, a chorus of sirens so hauntingly lovely upon approach, I must lower the sails to listen, even as their bittersweet requiem will surely kill my yearning soul with pleasure.

This love, a lilting, candlelit nocturne to who-knows-where we will be led next.

This love, softer than a cloud caressing herself until a new arrangement is made, a single movement at a time.

This love, resembling a score of waves lead by the moon as the sea, herself, laps blissfully against my skin.

This love, an ever teasing, solo mirage in this vast, heartbreakingly beautiful pastoral of Painted Desert sands.

This love, a choir of shifting stars and seas and sands in which I would willingly surrender to drown in.

This love, that itches so intensely that composure becomes impossible to feign. Continue reading

The Healing Power of Music and Kindness Saved Me (Click on Photo for Story)

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The Healing Power of Music and Kindness Saved Me (Click on Photo for Story)

A tremendous act of kindness. A delicate spirit. An incredible heart. Expecting nothing in return for his time—not even knowing if he was playing for someone who would live or die. I’m not sure if he even ever saw me.