Author: Hilarie Page 2 of 31

Happy new year

On September 18, 2023

Happy new year everybody…
Or rather, not to everybody…mainly to all my Jewish family and friends.
Happy New Year because this weekend was the start of the Jewish New Year – not the regular New Year that is celebrated with fireworks and such on December 31 but the one that we, the Jewish people celebrate – usually in the fall. This year, we are celebrating the beginning of year 5784. That’s a lot of years.

For me personally, it was a pretty busy weekend, preceded by a couple of pretty busy weeks preparing for this weekend.

On Saturday, my group of J.A.P.S. as I call them (Jewish American Parents in Stockholm…not the kind of JAPS who always have perfectly polished nails), arrived with their offerings of food at my apartment almost promptly at 2pm. We were 22 people crammed into my open-plan kitchen-dining-living room. Håkan and I had spent the last 2 or 3 days, cleaning, vacuuming and dusting the place – putting the miscellaneous crap we always have lying around in the kitchen-dining-living room out of sight in other parts of the apartment. It wasn’t spotless but good enough. Our small entry hall became filled with shoes, backpacks, jackets and empty bags. The kitchen counters and buffet table were filled with brisket, tzimmes, honey chicken wings, salads, cooked veggies and assorted drinkables. All the desserts were off to the side on the window sill. The large dining table was set up with candles, a bottle of red wine, a round challah, dishes of honey and a big plate of apple slices. Once all the hugs and hellos were done and the food organized, shoes were found and the disorderly group was sent scurrying down the stairwell (I took the elevator) to the front door and out across a ramp to a floating dock on Pålsundet. It was a beautiful day – warm and sunny with a feeling of still remembered summer. Motorboats of various sizes kept passing us as we gathered on the dock, probably wondering what this unruly group was doing there. Some of them waved to us. We were there to do Teshuvah and Tashlich as we have been doing every year for many years already.

Teshuvah can be seen as the process by which Jews atone for the bad things that they might have done in the past year and it requires a good amount of self-reflection. The Jewish philosopher Maimonides said there are 3 steps in this process: first one must adopt a sincere feeling of regret for one’s bad actions, then one needs to ask for forgiveness from those one has harmed and finally one vows to not do so again. We follow this process of atonement with Tashlich which is a symbolic “casting off” of the sins we have carried around with us for the past year. We do this by tossing something into flowing water – we used to toss bread crumbs but that’s now thought to be bad for the ducks who might gather around us. So this year we used defrosted corn kernels.

I passed around the papers that explained what we were to do and which had a few prayers on them that we spoke together. And then we threw away our sin-carrying corn.

Back upstairs again, we gathered around the dining table, passed around wine-filled small plastic cups and said the blessing over the candles I lit and then over the wine, the round challah Håkan baked, the apples and the honey and finally a prayer for a sweet new year. And then we could eat!! And schmooze and eat some more.

On Sunday, I managed to drag myself out of bed before noon and by 3pm I was at the Jewish community building with my neighbor and good friend Eva-Britt for a Progressiv Judendom i Stockholm activity. We had planned to hold a short afternoon Rosh Hashanah service followed by a shiur/discussion. Tim Kynerd led the service with his beautiful voice, helped by Monique Nilfors and Sonja Kalmering and with Nathaniel Glasser Skog and his son contributing with the music. Afterwards, Noa Hermale led the discussion. He talked about how thousands of years ago, the sighting of the new moon determined the start of the new year. And how it was not always self evident to the different rabbis of the time when the new year actually started. The natural phases of the moon was the calendar they used, not having a printed version to refer to. But what he also talked about is how Rosh Hashanah, a day when the moon is new is made into a holy day. How we humans can take an ordinary recurring event like the phases of the moon and give it meaning. And that idea spoke to me.

Rosh Hashanah is one of the most important days of the Jewish calendar – one of its most holy days, if you will. It is the time when most Jews, regardless of how “religious” they are, go to the synagogue to sit in communal prayers with their fellow Jews. I don’t go to the synagogue for Rosh Hashanah any more – I haven’t done so for many years now. I don’t find meaning there. And without meaning, can it truly be holy?

One of my guests at my Saturday Rosh Hashanah dinner party was explaining to me that since Rosh Hashanah was on a Saturday it was the custom to not blow the shofar like it usually is done. And since it was a Saturday, candles should not be lit and he went on to tell of other things that should or should not be done on this holiest of days.

But I don’t really care about all those guidelines or rules. We didn’t blow the shofar I own mainly because I forgot to get people to try. But I like the idea that Noa Hermale was talking about. He talked about how a wine cup on the sabbath is only an ordinary cup until we give it meaning. A candlestick is only important at chanukah because we give it meaning. I have been celebrating Rosh Hashanah with my J.A.P.S. in basically the same way as I did this past Saturday since my son was 6 years old. The Jews of long ago decided to give meaning to the new moon, to the day that started the month of Tishrei – they said that was the start of the new year and was holy. Every year I call my J.A.P.S. to gather with me to celebrate the arrival of the new Jewish year with a few prayers and a lot of food. For me this gathering has meaning and by giving it meaning it becomes a special day. It becomes holy.

And may this coming year bring sweetness to all of you. Shana Tova!

Life after life

By Hilarie

On July 8, 2023

In Uncategorized

My strawberries

Amongst my parent’s generation, there were a few men who, though they had reached the age when they could retire, they didn’t. Their wives had retired already, if they had worked, but not these few men. Their workplace was still willing to have them even though they might have passed their best before date. I assume they must have liked their jobs enough to keep working even when they didn’t need to. My parents retired as soon as they were old enough to do so, leaving behind them jobs that were just jobs and looked forward to doing something that they really wanted to do. But my parent’s friend continued working and kept on traveling to his job every day. If you asked him why he continued to take the hour and a half bus ride in to the city from the retirement community he had recently moved to, leaving behind wife and new friends, he would stare at you with a look on his face of incomprehension. Finally, he said, in a very quiet tone of voice, “If I retire, I am afraid that I will die.” He wasn’t speaking metaphorically. He was serious. He was sure that if he should stop working, the next day or week or month after his retirement party, he would die…of something. He eventually did retire. He and his wife got to spend more time with their kids and grandchildren. They traveled a bit together. They spent time at the clubhouse of their retirement community. And eventually in the fullness of time, his wife died and soon after so did he.

I have worked since I was about 17 – nothing serious until I was about 25, when I got my first job in the field that I had studied in college. Since then I have managed to support myself as an Art Director, Illustrator, Production manager, Board artist, Speaker support slide maker, Website designer, Powerpoint designer, magazine designer and in general, whatever one can do in the commercial art field. I have never needed the typing skills my mother insisted I acquire to help put food on my table – which is a good thing since my typing skills are really not all that much to write home about.

But all that professional working life is now 7 years behind me…and I am definitely retired. Am I dead yet?

I am not completely without things to do. I have 2 pro bono clients for whom I volunteer my skills and knowledge. I basically work for free now. But I get a pension, so I’m OK.

One of these groups, a Writers Festival, thinks I’m great. They love what I do for them. They are fun to work with. The project is something I am also interested in. I feel like I am doing a good job for them. But that little nagging voice that always lives in the back of my head says, “Of course they like you. You are free.” But the important thing is mostly they listen to my suggestions and often do what I suggest. That satisfies my control freak tendencies. So I’m OK.

The other group is a Jewish group working to bring Reform Judaism to Stockholm. It is a group that I have been involved with since before I retired – almost 2 decades, actually – a long time. I feel I know most of those people well. We have been on on the same board of directors together for so long that many of them have become friends. There are a lot of tasks on that board that I can not do. No one in their right mind would ask me to take the meeting minutes – the mishmash of swenglish would be illegible. Neither would I be useful to do anything in regards to religious tasks for my knowledge of such things is extremely superficial, a la carte and personal. To be the contact with the greater Jewish community is also something I would not be well suited to due to my poor comprehension of how Swedish society works and my latent phone fear. My only real usefulness lies in my years of work experience as a graphic designer. So that is what I have been on the board – a graphic designer. I designed their logo, I designed the now very out of date website and made a new one in WordPress. I make whatever graphics they need for promoting the group. And I try to maintain the look of the brand. These are things I know how to do. These are things I have experience in doing. With this group I feel like I am doing something important. So I’m OK.

Unlike my parent’s friend, my concern about my post-working life – and my fear – is metaphorical. I am still walking around. I am still breathing. I am not worried – at least not too much, that I will imminently drop dead any minute now. But…am I still alive? Do I still have worth? Does what I know have any value? And why aren’t people doing what I tell them?

In the summers, I have been spending most of my time at our country house with my husband. We have filled our planters with topsoil and I have bought plants to grow there. There are 3 requirements I insist on for any plants I might bring home: The plant has to be an almost indestructible perennial and need very little care from me, the plant has to have flowers, and finally if it has a wonderful scent that’s great. I have planted two small lilac bushes, 3 mock orange bushes, a flowering bush called Ölandstok in Swedish and two strawberry plants. I also planted 3 clematis plants to climb up the wall behind the planters. So far none of my plants have died yet and this year one of the lilac bushes had wonderful, scented flowers and my strawberry plant had strawberries. I spend a lot of time looking at these plants. This seems to be my new thing-to-do. It seems to pacify my anxiety about what I am doing with my post-work life. For the moment at least.

I guess with my two pro bono “jobs” and my green, planted friends, I have found my life after my life. I hope, as I work to keep all of these things alive, they will also keep me alive.

Mindful of one’s nature

By Hilarie

On July 8, 2023

In Uncategorized

It rained yesterday – on and off for most of the day. It was the first rain we have had here in Stockholm and out at the country house in almost a month. In fact, I can’t remember when it last rained but that might be more a problem with my memory than anything to do with weather.

The skies have cleared up. The wood deck is drying. The air is humid and still tanktop-and-shorts warm. I’m glad we planted clover together with the grass seed when we made a lawn. Now, after the rain is over, it’s the clover that has recovered the quickest from the mini-drought. It is lush and green and soft underfoot and sprouting everywhere with globular white flowers. Dozens of bumble bees are hopping from flower to flower, doing what bumble bees do. Together with Håkan, I sat on our discolored, almost 30 year old, white plastic chairs in the middle of all this activity, watching the bees work, listening to the deep hum of their drumming, impossible wings. After a while we got up to have a very late lunch. While I am not complaining about the lack of rain, all the nature around me, has missed it a lot – everything was so dry. I have had to tend my planted babies with a regular hosing down.

I recently posted on Facebook a picture of me, (well, just my legs) lying on an ancient lounge chair, doing nothing but reading and eating watermelon. All the responses were positive, with friends leaving comments such as; Perfection, Sounds ideal, Good on ya, My hero, I second your choice, and more variations on those themes. Everyone seemed to be agreed that it is a good thing to be able to take the time to just lounge around, reading a book, snacking on food, basically doing nothing – thinking of nothing other than the moment I was in. Some people might call that being Mindful. And Mindfulness is supposed to be a good thing.

But is it?
I suppose if one is a true busy extrovert, unable to sit still, always on the go, I guess choosing to just sit down and live in just that moment – doing nothing but reading and eating watermelon, that that is a really good change from what is normal in your life.

But I am not that – a busy extrovert – always on the go. I’m an introvert who knows how to act like an extrovert when I am among people. But I am a sluggard when alone. Sitting and doing nothing is easy for me. Almost too easy. My natural state of being is to be at rest and to let my foggy brain wander, instead of my feet. That afternoon spent reading and eating watermelon was just standard operating procedure. For me. Was I being Mindful, if Mindfulness means living in the present moment?

Now, I’m sitting in the shade, on the small deck outside the kitchen window. For the past 2 months, I have been living here at the house with only brief forays into town. Climate Change or maybe just the weather gods have given us amazing summer weather – dry, sunny, and warm – instead of the normal Swedish summer weather – damp, rainy, chilly, with only brief moments of sunny warmth. It’s the kind of weather where you can spend a lot of time outside – enjoying morning coffee at the lake, eating dinner on the deck, even wearing shorts while gardening. The kind of weather when you invite friends to visit and share food and conversation with, while sitting outside on the deck.

But have I?? Invited friends to join me? No, I have not. I have had very few friends out to join us on our deck, to share a drink or a cup of tea with pastries, to walk down to the beach or even eat a whole meal together. And I ponder…why not?

Do I have no friends? I don’t think that is the reason – I have a lot of friends who I like a lot. Why have I not invited them out to us? Is it just too much work to clean up the house & yard and buy food and serve it? Well, maybe the cleaning and straightening up is a pain in the neck but its not that bad. And I like sharing food with friends.

Or is it just too much work to make a phone call or send an email, to plan a visit? And now I think we are getting somewhere. I have to make that phone call. I have to send that email. I have to plan and schedule my time. Have I mentioned I am a sluggard??

When I think about what kinds of people have been my closest friends I realize that many of them are extroverts, FOMOs (People who “suffer” from the Fear Of Missing Out), people who are always busy – who’s natural state of being is not to be idle but to be active and always on the go and maybe not spending a lot of time being Mindful of the moment. Back when I lived in Manhattan, friends would have to venture up to my apartment on the Upper West Side, ring my doorbell and practically drag me out, Saying, “Put on your shoes, Hilarie. We’re going to the movies now.”

And 40 years later, after so much life lived, I am still the same – I spend a lot of time just thinking about what I am doing rather than going out and doing things. I guess you could call that Mindfulness. But I don’t. I don’t like the term. I need my extroverted friends to come ringing my virtual doorbell, texting my smart phone, writing an email and saying…”What the hell have you been doing kiddo??? Want to meet for a drink/lunch/dinner? Can we come out to visit you at the house?”

After all is said and done, I am an introvert by nature who is usually content to just sit and think. And all this Mindfulness, to my mind, is just a bunch of hooey designed to make busy extroverts slow down.

But I’ve been spending a lot of time out here in the garden, trying to figure out what I am going to be in this next phase of my life. Call me. Ask me to do something…I just might say yes…

Passover 2023 in a new place

By Hilarie

On May 25, 2023

In Uncategorized

This spring was the second time me and my J.A.P.S. have been able to meet to celebrate Passover since the world stopped for Covid 19. This year was different than previous years because we met in a new place – out in Skarpnäck, at a beautiful party house. Thank you, Carly, for offering to host us there. It was lovely. And as usual, I had a few words to say before we started our wonderful ritual of reminding ourselves of who we are and where we came from.

I want to welcome all of you here to celebrate Passover with me once again. This year we are starting a new chapter, with a new place to meet. We have been doing this Passover thing for a long time now and it is always my wish that we can gather together to celebrate this holiday.

When we read our Haggadah, we discover that this holiday, Passover, is all about the desire for freedom – the wish to be free.

But you have to be careful what you wish for, because you just might get it, says a lot of memes out there on Facebook and the internet. While my mom never stressed me about it, I know that she really wished I would find someone and get married. Well, she eventually got her wish. What she didn’t expect was that it would be to someone who would take me all the way across an ocean. Be careful what you wish for, Mom.

As a curly red head, I always wished for straight blond hair…just like our curly-headed friend Barbara did. And about 5 years ago she got her wish, but it came as a wig and was due to developing cancer. Now, my reddish hair is grey but still pretty straight as long as if I keep protecting it from the weather and luckily Barbara’s curly red hair is once again growing back. But, we have to remember to be careful what we wish for.

I have been involved in Progressiv Judendom I Stockholm since 2006. And since Progjud started, the wish for having our own Rabbi has been at the top of the list. Well, now we have one and I find myself drowning in work for Progjud that I didn’t really expect. Be careful what we wish for, right?

For 2000 years the Jewish people had wished for their own homeland and finally in 1948 it happened, bringing with it both great happiness and great heartbreak. Be careful what you wish for because peace…is something still at the top of all of our wishes for Israel.

While wishing for things is not specific for us as Jews, we always need to be a bit careful. Wishing for family, and different hair, and Rabbis, and a homeland, and peace are nevertheless good things to be wishing for.

In the Haggadah story we are about to retell, we hear that in the beginning, the Jewish people were slaves in Egypt. They had started out as a small group of free people who because of famine had migrated to another land to find food. They eventually ended up there as slaves. The story tells us how Moses led them out of Egypt to freedom – how Pharoah was vanquished and the Jewish people crossed the red sea towards a new life. And that’s where it ends. That’s like me telling my mom, “I met a guy and I’m getting married” But I leave out the part that he is Swedish and I will be living in Stockholm. She got her wish…but… it wasn’t quite what she expected.

And so too the story in this Haggadah. Yes, the Jewish people were freed but… being free looked hard – many wanted to turn back, they had to wander through deserts, they didn’t know what they would eat, their leader disappears up a mountain and they don’t know what to do without him. Maybe freedom isn’t all its cracked up to be after all. You have to be careful what you wish for.

So, as we begin our seder, with the story about becoming free in our past, let us keep in mind what freedom, to be who we are today as Jews, means, both the difficulties and the joys. And we need to think about how we continue to be Jews, tomorrow and the day after and the day after that.

Because it all works out in the end- I got married, my hair is straight, Progjud has a rabbi, the Jewish people have a homeland – and here we are today still telling that same story and I find myself wishing that the children I see here today, will continue to do so, too.

Now…Let’s start our seder.