“Hallowed Be Thy Name”

It’s ten PM and I am wishing I could go back and start today again.  Lazy Sundays are hands down my favorite day of the week, and I fight very hard to maintain them.  I only wish I could get my husband to do the same!  Of course, it is easier said then done.  Saying no to Sunday brunch is always a tough one, and doing what is in my power to not rehearse for a play or wait tables is another.  My friends and colleagues have grown to respect my Sabbath-keeping, and I have ended many a hard week with a stolen-away day to worship and reflect and for that I am incredibly grateful.  I believe deeply that we were created to have one day of rest per week, as we were meant to breathe in and out or to sleep and wake!

I didn’t get to have many Sunday’s this past May and June.  In fact, I believe I only had two!  No wonder I felt lost!  Today, as I look back over these busy busy past few months, I finally have the time to be thankful for them.  I listened to a sermon (click here!)  today about how Jesus taught us to pray, and he begins purposefully with “hallowed be thy name.”  Apparently to hallow means to acknowledge or render.  To praise.  My pastor spoke about how we must begin there, and only after we have acknowledged God’s greatness can we ask for what we need or ask forgiveness for our mistakes.  He said with acknowledgment comes peace and  awe and strength, and that that carries over.  It carries over into the next part, making it easier to ask for forgiveness or ask for our daily bread.

I found this message especially moving today, as I look backwards.   I co-produced, co-created and acted in a play (click here!) this past week, and my family came to see.  My friends from work came to see.  I met some amazing new friends during the production.  I went to Charleston to visit my best friends family.  I obsessed about money.  I did a couple of short plays in May and saw two friends get married.  I waited on so so many tables.  I served my husband and he served me.  I tried to listen to him.  I wrote my grandmother a letter but missed her family reunion.  I worried and obsessed and belittled, I failed and cried.  I laughed and smiled and teased and slept.  I watered my orchids.

Im gonna try to begin my July by acknowledging.  To begin each prayer that way.  Each day.  To begin each week with it.  Or I will hallow.  Or I will say hallowed be….  You know what I mean.  🙂

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Load-in: That Poor Dream at the New Ohio’s Ice Factory Festival. Great Expectations, set on a Metro-North Train Car.

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Moti and I at Fort Sumpter in Charleston!

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Homemade crushed Mint Lemonade. Take fresh mint and muddle with 1 tablespoon sugar in the bottom of a pitcher. 1 part lemon juice. 1 part sugar. 1 part water (heat water on stove top, add sugar to make simple syrup. Let sugar dissolve.) Add lemon juice and simple syrup to pitcher with crushed ice and add cold water! (3-4 cups, or to taste!) Or you can blend and food process it all to make a slushie!

The Good Work

Moti and I decided to try a new vegetable share this summer, and we came home from our first visit with a bundle of chamomile, among other things.  I had no idea what to do with it.

I have lived in New York City for a while now, and have been pounding the pavement for years to make a career for myself in the theater.   I think I can speak for most of the performing artists in the city when I say that we are satisfied with very little: enough money to eat and pay rent, a full calendar of projects (ideally one right after the other), and perhaps a relationship or five to keep us fueled in our limited in-between time.  Looking back over the past three weeks on my calendar, I notice that my dreams are realized, that I am, or should be, truly satisfied (for now, of course!).  I am a part of a community of artists that constantly challenge me; I am making plays with backbone and purpose; I am auditioning for this and that, here and there, and that gives me hope. My eyes are on the mountain.  I have a companion-husband… an artist himself… and we have made a sweet home where we can lay our heads.  (I just vacuumed.)

It is good to write it out, I think.  What I want and what I have.  To realize that I am here and well on my way to something, and that perhaps that something has already arrived.  There are so many other things associated with being an artist: dissatisfaction, fear, budget, feelings of inadequacy… did I mention fear? How is my ego today?  Huge?  Tiny? Am I aware of myself?

I am beginning to understand that simple pleasures and kindnesses are the key, at least for me, to a peaceful life.  A cup of tea.  A thank you note from a friend.  A tickle fight with my husband.  Learning what to do with chamomile.  A church visit.  A little energy spent on helping someone else.

It turns out that chamomile means “Earth Apple” in Latin.  It also has an endless list of uses; It mildly helps with menstruation, calms anxiety and eases stress, helps with digestion, improves the skin and lightens hair, reduces swelling and eases pain. And here I thought it was simply good for tea with honey and milk!

It took me quite some time to snip off the flowers at the top, and to lay them out on a trey.  I am going to wait for 7-10 days and let them dry, then keep them in a mason jar.  Apparently it will keep for up to a year!  I bet a cup of this tea with help me when I am feeling anxious or overtired, or simply when I need to step back and understand how good I have it.

I cut off the little buds from the chamomile.  I am going to dry them out for about a week.  The internet says I can dry the stems, too, for a milder tea!

I cut off the little buds from the chamomile. I am going to dry them out for about a week. The internet says I can dry the stems, too, for a milder tea!

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Tech for my theater companies latest piece: “That Poor Dream;” a loose adaptation of Great Expectations. It explores income inequality in America and the cast’s own troubled relationship with class.

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A particularly lovely moment for me this past week. People watching in midtown in between rehearsals.