Yih'yu l'ratzon imrei fi V'hegyon libi l'fanecha, adonai tzuri
Yih'yu l'ratzon imrei fi V'hegyon libi l'fanecha, adonai tzuri*
I will crush my fantasy,
bring me olive oil crushed for his majesty
to shine a warmth into eternity, this is an eternal decree,
We’ll dance like flames for there’s no gravity,
for now I’m just a candle trying to stay lit in this windy night.
Got to crush my fantasies of how this life is supposed to be
*(translation: May the words of my mouth and the meditations of my heart be acceptable to you, oh Lord, my rock and my redeemer.)
I love the line "Got to crush my fantasies of how this life is supposed to be".
On a different but related note, there's an episode of Kipper where Kipper ponders whether he likes the anticipation of Christmas, or Christmas itself, better:
I wonder how we let go of fantasies about our lives, while maintaining a sense of excitement and anticipation?
I have a lot of ideas of how my life should be and many dreams about the future. But if I dwell on them, I get quite stressed, because my life is full. I can't get caught up in the anticipation, lest it makes me tug the future into the present too much. There's only enough space for the present. Right now, Eug's mom and brother are visiting and I am caring for Eli and Noah. I feel unproductive and tired. Yet I know that there will be time for other things- my life doesn't have to contain everything all at once.
I thought about readers who might have wanted to do some of the stuff I've talked about on Concrete Gardener but for whom the time is not yet right. I'm sorry if you've ever felt like I pushed unpalatable things down your throat because I implied it was easy or simple.
As I sit in front of the fire rocking Eli, I am certain that quitting our jobs and spending more time with them has been one of our very best decisions. But I am learning balance and grace as if for the first time in this season of newborn haze + toddler. I look at Noah, who is 2 going on 30, and remember this time passes all too quickly, that sleep returns, and that to everything there is a season. May it be so.
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