HAPPY 5768
by Harley

It’s a strange and significant weekend, the Autumnal Equinox plus Yom Kippur, Day of Atonement, the most important holiday of the Jewish year (the year 5768). Here in Topanga Canyon there was a sudden storm last night, with THUNDER, so rare in Southern California that the dog panicked and the kids asked, “what IS that?”

“I think it’s God,” I said.

I decided to jump on the Day of Atonement bandwagon, because I love the idea of fresh starts and cleaning out closets. I realize it’s a little late, that Yom Kippur ended Saturday at sundown, and the book is closed, but hey – I’m not Jewish. Neither am I Pagan, outside celebrating the Equinox at 2:51 a.m. (too cold). No matter. Here at TLC, we’ve been known to get a little sloppy about deadlines, so in the spirit of the season, here’s what I’m atoning for:

The times I missed a chance to look a loved one in the eye. There are a few people I saw this year that I’ll never see again, and I wish I’d taken a long look, a mental snapshot and found the changes in the face so dear to me. At the risk of adding to my eccentricity, in 5768 I want to stare at people the way I stare at my children. Just, you know, noticing their beauty.

Oh, and while we’re at it, I’d like to go back a little farther—1984, to be exact. I met a woman in a locked ward in Bellevue Hospital (she was a patient, I was a visitor) and one day she told me she was getting released, and I told her I’d come in a cab and accompany her across town the next morning, when she got out. And I didn’t. I overslept. Marnie, I’m sorry. I hope you got home okay.

This from Elaine: “Before I wrote mystery novels, I did a humor column for a newspaper. About 20 years ago, when those plush "conversion" vans were popular, I interviewed a high school student who had one. It was quite a sight inside—leopard print seats, smoked glass mirrors, all the high-'80s luxuries. The kid mentioned the van was terrific for dates. I believe the phrase in the story was "rolling bedroom" but I can't remember if he used it or I made it up. Either way, it was in the story and it embarrassed the boy. I suspect his school friends teased him. He called me up and said, "Why did you do that?" I'm not sure why it embarrassed him, but my best guess was he was dating a very special someone and didn't like their romance being the subject of snickers.

Anyway, I felt bad. I tried to apologize, but it was too late. I wished I could print a retraction, but that would only make it worse. And since I was a geeky kid in high school, I had some idea how bad he felt. There was no way for me to atone for my actions, but I regretted them all the same.

I like writing fiction a lot better. I get to make it up.”

Elaine, I’m no rabbi—or priest, or Wiccan goddess—but if it were up to me, I’d absolve you in The Matter of The Rolling Bedroom Story. Go forth and greet the autumn with a clear conscience . . .

Rebecca the Bookseller says: How many words do I get? Okay, seriously, I need to atone for making snap judgments. Like the guy who was so rude at the first Parent Meeting at school. Didn't like him, and then I saw him in the parking lot wearing black socks with sandals in August. That was it. So sorry, guy. Maybe I just need to get to know you. Does atoning mean I have to try to get to know him now? I also need to atone because there are relatives I should call, but I keep putting it off because they tend to make me crazy. Those are probably the people who need the contact the most. Geez, Harley, now I feel worse. Kidding. This is therapeutic and I'm going to shut up now.

Anyone else? Confessions?

Harley

Comments

[Rocco]

Oh dear. This is what I get for checking the blog when I get home. Well - big breath - here we go.

I am going to atone for making fun of people with bad hair. Especially the people who walk right in front of the shop. Some people just don't have the touch for hair. And some people don't have the patience. But really, darlings, don't these people own mirrors? Hmmm. Not so much in the spirit of atonement. I guess that is my personal project for 5768.

Ciao, Bellas!

[Josh]

Oh, is this like the Prince of Tides edition of Lipstick Chronicles?

I went to the prom with a friend who had recently broken up with her long-time boyfriend, him being stolen by another girl, and all. The date was a disaster, and we were home by 9. She had told me some things about her sex life with her boyfriend, first love, broken-hearted, the whole thing. Eventually, some of that information got around, and she blamed me (maybe I told people, I don't specifically remember, but probably I did), and we didn't speak for over 20 years. A few years ago, she cyberstalked me through Sarah, and we met at a Bubbles signing in Bethlehm, she down from New Hampshire and me up from Wilmington. (We went through the yearbook with Sarah, and my god if I didn't realize how many of my classmates were "sluts." Incredible, but there seemed like only about four of them who were not--my friend and her best friend, and Sarah and her best friend.) I apologized for this sin that I had committed back in 1980, something that had been on my mind for 23 years. She told me that she had no recollection of it at all. What she did remember about me was that I had bought her a Playgirl magazine, and every birthday for 20 years or so, her friends would buy her one and they would reminisce about my buying her her first one. So she had fond memories of me, while I guilted myself for over 20 years about a betrayal that I wasn't even sure I had done.

[William Simon]

Sitting here thinking about this (which is a bloody heavy subject for a Sunday morning!), I can think of several people that I would like to have the chance to say the words "I'm Sorry" to. And in the interests of Honesty with the capital 'H', there are two individuals I would sincerely love the chance to take apart piece by piece.

The best summation of such things I ever saw was at a retirement party I recently went to. The Guest of Honor stood, raised his glass, smiled a huge smile, and said "Some of you, I'll ALWAYS remember!" The smile left his face, leaving it cold and cruel. "Some of you I'll NEVER forget." He paused again, took a sip, and said "I'll remember you all." Then he sat down.

I think that pretty much covers it.

[Abbe]

I will always have regrets and no amount of apologies will ever change that. Even when I've made amends, I still feel a twinge of anguish. If I let those memories, disappointments, and questions drown me, I can't ever recover.

What's most important to me is the lesson I learn from each regret, and using that lesson to improve my life and how I interact with people in the future. Forgiveness of the self is as important to me as forgiveness of others.

[michele martinez]

Beautiful blog, Harley.

I atone for the times I needlessly put work ahead of life. (Saying "needlessly" is a way of crossing my fingers. Sometimes putting work before life was the right decision). In particular, I atone for missing Paul Simon's concert in Central Park in 1991 in order to finish a legal research memo by deadline only to find that the senior associate who'd assigned it didn't look at it for two weeks anyway.

[Nancy Martin]

Great blog, Harley. I find myself looking around at young mothers and seeing how stressed out and angry they seem to be. And I remember feeling that way, too--missing a lot of the fun of those toddler years. I see now my kids could have missed their bath & bedtime for a little longer walk in the woods. So I'm sorry I was such a grump when my kids were little.

[Harley Jane Kozak]

Wow. Whew.

Yes, Josh, it IS Prince of Tides (or Princess of Tides, us being us.)

Okay, what's weird is that I can't get past the guy wearing black socks with sandals. I'm stuck on that image. If I were a filmmaker, I'd construct an entire movie around that.

[Kadi Easley]

Okay,I'll go.
Back in 1980, maybe 81, I was dating a guy that drove me crazy. I couldn't get rid of him, he just didn't get it that I wanted him gone. Well, why would he? He was sweet, kind, rich, he brought me flowers every day. He treated me like a queen. I couldn't stand it. But I never told him how I felt.

I ditched him very publicly, very far from home when he ducked into the bathroom. Just so I wouldn't be forced to ride home with him. He got the message and didn't call again.

He was the nicest man I ever dated and he didn't deserve to be treated that way. All I needed to do was tell him up front how I felt and he probably would have understood, but instead I was cruel. It's bothered me for over 20 years and even when I met up with him a couple of years ago, the words I'm sorry stuck in my throat and wouldn't come out.

[Harley Jane Kozak]

Kadi, do you have his e-mail address? We could send the link to the blog!

[Kathy Reschini Sweeney]

You know, one of the things about being raised RC is the concept of absolution. Not that I go to confession any more - I'm banking on the fact that we don't need the middle man.

There is something very free-ing (is that a word?) about admitting and repenting.

But Kadi's post reminded me of some pretty crappy break-ups that I wouldn't have considered 'sinful', so I need to atone for those.

Stephen Colbert did his annual Yom Kippur bit where he had a special phone line set up for people to call and atone. My favorite was the Rabbi who called in to atone for using some of Colbert's bits in his service. Love it.

I've also had friends who, in the process of working the steps of AA or another group, have gone back to apologize to people they wronged while active addicts. Very powerful stuff.

Perfect blog, Harley, and it's great to 'hear' your voice. Perhaps this Atonement Blog can be an annual event?

[Harley Jane Kozak]

Yes, and this year I'll document all my failings as I go so I can actually do the blog on time, in advance of Yom Kippur.

BTW, I was also a cradle Catholic, which is probably why I'm so plugged into Yom Kippur.

[Mary]

Abbe, I'm with you. There are so many things I can regret; sometimes that's what I think of when I can't sleep, reliving ill-chosen words, or kindnesses I didn't do, but we are human and imperfect, and should forgive ourselves as well. (and another insomnia aid for me is a game or two of free cell solitaire on my Palm Pilot -- almost Zen-like relaxation).
A different slant on Yom Kippur -- there was a news segment on Jewish athletes opting not to play on Friday. Most teammates interviewed were supportive of their friends' decision, but I wondered -- how fair is it to even have a game on their holiest day of their year? It's a bit like scheduling a game on Christmas Day.

[Tom]

My list is endless, and likely to grow longer - dammit.

We're not pure spirits, we leave footprints. I doubt we were 'built' to be faultless. But we do seem to have the capacity, most of us, to self-correct.

One of the things I like most about the closing service for The Days of Awe is the prayer asking forgiveness for "the sins we have committed, and the sins we are about to commit." It struck me as odd at first hearing, sitting there in the choir. Thirty years later it seems realistic, perhaps even bespeaking a hope we will want to do better during this next trip around the sun.

Nine days late, let me wish us all a Happy New Year.

[Kiaduran]

I would like to atone to me. The me that I used to be as a child, the me that I never got a chance to be.

As a child, I learned from my grandmother that I was never good enough, smart enough, thin enough, girlie enough, enough, enough...I believed this poison with all my heart. As an adult, I carried this belief into all aspects of my life.

My daily struggle to change this belief feels neverending and is exhausting, and each unlearning (and stuggle to keep that unlearning alive) causes me to remember all the times I screwed over other people by either design or neglect and all the times I cheated myself of life and love because I wasn't "enough".

All my mistreatment of me by me led to my mistreating others and, for that, I am truly sorry.

[Kerry, the Martial Tart]

Whew - powerful stuff. I'd like to atone for the snap judgements, moments of impatience, and lacks of kindness visited upon family, friends, students, and more over the years. Mostly I think I do OK, but those are the areas that need constant attention.

Kiaduran, you touch my heart . . .

[Mary]

One favorite story, my mantra for dealing with difficult persons, is the story of a dervish (holy man) and his disciple. A fast-moving chariot forces them off the road and into a ditch. The Dervish raises his fist at the departing chariot and shouts, "May the deepest desires of your soul be satisfied!" His disciple questions, why a blessing? "Ah, do you think that, if his deepest desires of his soul were satisfied, he would remain the sort of person who would drive a poor dervish off the road?" At my retirement, I planned to tell the story to my colleagues, as a fitting farewell to both friends and pains. The allergens in the building took my voice, so I persuaded my principal (the good one) to read it. I think it was a good experience for her anyway -- perhaps if I were a better person, I'd have had the assistant principal (ass.prin. aka martinet) read it, as it might have done her even more good.
If this is all getting too heavy, here's some entertainment . . .
http://www.jigzone.com/

[Tom]

Kiaduran!

A perfect topic, Harley.

[Mary]

Kiaduran, loving and appreciative hugs to you. I have noticed that often those who have experienced sorrow and rejection are best able to help others facing the same challenge, through sympathy and example. One of our counselors would tell the high school students that they have arrived at the age when they can determine their own future and what will be in their lives. May you give yourself the life you deserve . . .and may the deepest desires of your soul be satisfied. ;-)

[William Simon]

Travis McGee once mused about "The Three McGees... the one I wish I was, the one I'm glad I'm not, and the one I am." It was a serious moment for the character when his friend, Meyer, explained that McGee was "Neither beneath nor superior; just medium rotten like the rest of the world."

[Mary]

. . .and Oprah's mantra, "I did the best I knew how to do at the time. Now I know better, so I can do better."

[Harley Jane Kozak]

You guys knock me out.

Kiaduran, I have so many people helping me through a rough season of my life right now, and something you made me notice is how it's their past pain, for the most part, that makes them so compassionate. I bet you are an awesome friend.

I want us all to meet up in a park and stand in a circle and hold hands and, I dunno. Cry. Or sing Songs of the Autumnal Equinox in 4-part harmony.

[Kathy Reschini Sweeney]

Kiaduran - you are in my prayers.

It's a constant source of grief for me that so many times, it is the nature of the abuser to magnify the suffering they inflict with silence. You are now the Champion that your younger self needed. There are other Champions who are ready to aid you. Please don't hesitate to ask for help.

[SisterZip aka Pam]

Yesterday, Dear Hubby & I attended a wedding. A childhood friend of Dear Hubby's daughter got married. Four years ago, their 26 year old son was killed in a motorcycle accident and at the time we did the best we could to comfort them, help them get through the garbage of death, and to just be there for them. (The worst thing I think I have ever witnessed was our friend, Steve, standing at his son's coffin, alone. Just standing there. It makes me cry every time I think of it.) But as time passed, they 'changed'. We didn't hear from them except when Steve wanted to go hunting with Dear Hubby. Dear Hubby noticed that Steve's drinking had gotten out of control and was told Steve was about to get fired from his job for his attitude problems. Of course, as selfish beings, we just got angry at them for real and imagined slights. We ignored them and didn't really try to understand. We learned today that Steve has decided to go to his doctor and get signed into rehab. For the two of us, I atone for not helping sooner and better. We took the safe way and did nothing. At least we get a second chance and hopefully, we will take advantage of it.

[Kiaduran]

Everyone - wow, just, wow. Thank you for the kind words of support and the wisdom you've shared. You all have made a big difference in my life today. I am stunned by your kindness. You guys are the best. Again, wow.

[Harley Jane Kozak]

SisterZip aka Pam, I'm touched by your story. And while i don't want to question the great desire to help an old friend and the impact that friends can make, I want to tell you that in my case, no human being could've stopped my drinking. One human being did tell me, in no uncertain terms, that I was f****d up, and her words hit home and got me eventually onto the path of recovery, but she was a virtual stranger. I couldn't let anyone I loved in far enough to be able to help me. It had to come, in my case, from strangers.

Alcoholism is a bitch. There is a limit to what you can do for another person afflicted with it. Not that you should look away, but realize your best efforts might not have changed a thing for your grieving friend. I hope he makes it.