A few more

And here are a couple of thanks on a quiet evening after a sunny day with no back pain...

1. No back pain. Day Three of not a single capsule of Advil, Tylenol, Aleve, etc. My research oncologist will say that the trial drug is already working. My other oncologist will say that the Prilosec took care of the acid reflux. I don't give a shit which one of them is right. Let them both celebrate. I have no pain.

2. I'm alive. A friend has recently stopped treatment and gone into hospice care. In spite of, or perhaps with this all, she is brave and fabulous and remains entirely herself. There is a saying in old Jewish culture that you can know a person, "b'kaso, b'kiso, u'v'koso." I wrote the Hebrew words so that you can appreciate the alliteration.  In English, in his anger, in his pocket, and in his cup. Meaning that we show our true character when we're angry, when it comes to how we use our money, and when we're drinking. Some wisdom there, sure.  I would add, "b'cancero" (in his cancer) which is a total butchering of both English and Hebrew but I can't resist the alliteration. The depth of my friend's character comes out in the fact that she has not changed at all. She is not bitter; she is not angry; she is not afraid.

3. There's a Psalm (27:4) that we sing during the High Holydays, and it's been sticking in my mind. Here is a translation that I really like from Rabbi Rachel Barenblat. She has changed references to Adonai (often translated as "God) to "You": 

One thing I ask, I ask of You (Adonai), I earnestly pray for  That I might dwell in Your house all the days of my life Knowng the beauty, the beauty of You, and to dwell in Your holy place!  Here's the Hebrew: אחת שאלתי מאת ה' אותה אבקש, שבתי בבית ה' כל ימי חיי, לחזות בנועם ה' ולבקר בהיכלו. I was struck by these words when we sang them this year, because a) I love the beauty and simplicity of distilling all of our yearnings into one thing - to recognize and dwell in holiness, and b) For me that yearning is fulfilled. I don't mean that I dwell in holiness because I'm super holy - whatever that means! I dwell in holiness because most of the time I can see it.  I can see how incredibly precious this crazy, painful, mixed-up world of ours is.  And it is truly wonderous.