La L-Word

A colleague got Tali and I into a private party at the Brooklyn Historical Society where there was a body-painter on call to paint anyone. We didn't get a chance to get painted but others did and it was quite a sight.

Tali and I had some opportunity to dance and I suddenly dropped it. Not my pants but something far more revealing. I looked into her dreamy eyes and told her I loved her. I put it out there with confidence that I'd get the RETURN. Instead, she said "I know." Reminiscent of the time she said I have a nice ass and I responded, "I know."

Later that night, her friend berated her for that Seinfeldian remark. (Recall the episode where George had to say 'I love you' a second time to his girlfriend because the first time he said it into her deaf ear, only to find out she did indeed hear him the first time but didn't respond). I, on the other hand, took it in stride for the simple reason that I knew by her body language, gaze, and demeanor that she too had fallen in love. The same is true of my behavior but I chose to withhold it, not using the L-Word in vain. I didn't want to be cavalier with it, abuse it, or diminish its emotional significance. For at least I month now, I said things like 'I REALLY LIKE you', a LOT! Divorce has made me cautious but I could no longer deny the reality of it all.

So I hear my friends, who are dating, wondering whether to have a conversation about 'where is this going' or agonize how you tell if the person is right for you, I smile to myself and consider how lucky I am. I went out with Tali with the intent of having fun and connecting. When it's right, you just know it. You shouldn't have to negotiate it. You should certainly discuss the ramifications, practicality, and consequences but you're just gonna know. You can't miss it when you see it. I hope you all find it soon and keep it alive. In the meantime, three thumbs up, folks!

Oh, and by the way, I love Tali!
(Get your finger out of your throat, please)

Afterthought

There actually was a runner up, fifth place choice for the previous post. After much reflection and deliberation I have chose to add this story as an addendum with honorable mention.

A number of years ago, I was invited to my coworker's wedding. It was a Russian affair, beautifully catered but not Kosher. I hadn't had time to eat prior to my arrival but was happy for the steady supply of vodka. I won't brag how well I held my liquor because I clearly couldn't. I hopped up on stage with the band and two dancer and joined in the show. After a bit, I leaped out into the crowded dance floor with a flying karate kick. I was later told/reminded that I had a great time dancing with everyone.

It came time for the bouquet to be thrown and a lovely lady was lucky to catch it. Then (I think that was the order of events but who can be certain), The groom removed the brides garter and overthrew it way past the bachelors right to my feet. I was married at the time and I was just coming out of my fog. Ten minutes earlier and who knows how bold I might have been but with the return of conscious thought came the inhibitions and guilty conscience. Like a fool, I just pointed to my feet and summoned the bachelors to come and get the garter.

Now that I am divorced, I wished it would have played out differently but I guess my integrity would have been compromised if I had acted inappropriately. ['cause all of you know, I never act inappropriately ;)]

Dancing On Equal Footing

Across the room, I noticed her crying. Amidst the festive dancing of Simchat Torah, there was one young lady experiencing something entirely different from the rest of us.

We were in high school then & she was my closest friend. Yet, I was quite unprepared for what she would reveal to me. I could not know it at that time but her tears would leave an indelible impression on me. My perception of women’s role in religion and the limitations they suffer, was forever altered. I had always believed in equal rights and the general principles of equality of the sexes but somehow that didn’t translate so well to the orthodox world.

I sat down next to her, gently inquiring as to the nature of her distress. She looked up at me with glistening moist brown eyes and bemoaned her exclusion from dancing with the Torah. So deep was her love of God and His gift to us, it demanded expression. It could not be contained. She wanted to dance like King David for all to see her feelings for Hashem. But, alas, she would be denied that expression of her spirituality. She was relegated to sit off to the side, behind a curtain, to watch others achieve that which she could only dream. Instead of joy, there was suffering.
‘What love, what pain!’ I thought.
I went straight to the rabbi and asked him what is the halacha regarding women and dancing with the torah. I expected a long unsatisfying medieval discourse on its prohibition. What I got was a simple, there is no problem, get a torah for the ladies and let them dance. WOW! Mind you, this was an orthodox shul with very right wing politics. Who knew that there was a voice of reason after all?

Without delay I appropriated one of the torah’s for the women’s section. I have never seen such a smile nor have I seen such passionate dancing as I did that day.