I Want to Let Go But Not Give Up

On Wednesday, the eve of Rosh Hashana, the Jewish New Year, 5772, I heard the sharp buzzing of a neighbor’s leaf blower. I shut the window.  I turned to apples and honey and Max. The buzzing was a reminder that there will always be external noise. So, how to quiet the mind? The home?

Max tells me about his day. Little snippets of stories, just enough to make me wonder about all the things I don’t know. Just enough to imagine what his whole day was like (there was a prayingmantis, a popcorn party, and a page with typewritten letters, including m-a-x). I only know for sure the before and after. The clinging to me in the morning. The anger when I picked him up. A day book-ended by tears and soothed with snuggles and kisses. We dip more apples in honey. “This is sweet and good.” Yes, Max, sweet and good.

I’m feeling uncertain and fearful about so much that’s going in our country and world. On the flip side, I’m also determined and hopeful. For today, I want to believe that if I focus on what is directly in front of me, I can at least create peace here in our home corner. Nothing fancy, just our family, love, food, music, and being together. Removing ourselves from the world of chaos and what appears to be insanity at every turn. I don’t know what else to do, but allow this space. These few days to stop work and the ordinary routine. To slow down. I want to let go of all the mistakes I’ve made this past year (and years past). I must make room for the new ones to come. I need quiet.

If I’ve hurt you, knowingly or unknowingly, please forgive me.

Maybe I’m just a hopeless hippie who belongs on a farm picking flowers.  But should we give up on flowers? Air? Water? Our planet? I’ll pick flowers for the dinner table. It is a beautiful day.

Then there is pure joy. There is love.


I want to accept who I am and accept others for who they are, where they are. I want to get Max to school on time more often.

What comforts me: Music, dancing, reading, being near trees or water. A nap. Getting and giving hugs from my family and friends. Doing something to help someone else gives me an instant boost. Laughing. If I can make you laugh, my day is made.

Peace happens

I hope I live up to the promises I make.

For myself, I wish:

  • To have more patience.
  • To not let fear stop me.
  • To listen better.

I hope we all find a way to get through and around what the world throws at us. I wish, truly and sincerely, for peace everywhere. I mean peace in our hearts, families, work, and also peace on the streets, in our governments, and other seemingly crazy, tall order wishes that I harbor. Peace in Jerusalem. I’d like to believe. I want to believe, even when I don’t. I want to give up, and not let go. I want to let go, but not give up.

Peace Stamp

Max helped plant this apple tree given to him by his Saba (Grandpa) Jerry in April, 2011.

Newly planted Apple Tree, April 2011

It’s grown quite a bit, as you can see here.

Checking growth, September 2011

If nothing else, change is inevitable. Max and his tree are proof. I hope we all continue to grow and move forward, each with our wants, needs, and dreams. One day at a time, one moment, one pile of laundry, one sunrise, one sunset, one tantrum, one drop, one tree, one word at a time.

Beach wonders

I love my family, I love my friends. I love life. I think our planet is a beautiful place. I don’t want to give up. I hope we can keep the world spinning for one more year. I think it’s up to us.  And in the meantime, I look around and see what is beautiful and good right here and now.

I am thankful.

Love and peace,


PS. Up until the recent protests on Wall Street, I’ve been wondering,  where are all the hippie – young people protestors?  I really liked this post from Toni Nagy (on Huffpost Parents). “Wall Street: A Reason to Rethink Parenting.” 

1 thought on “I Want to Let Go But Not Give Up

  1. While it’s entirely possible that the wine and rough day are getting to me, I think it’s more likely that you, dear Elana, gave me chills and brought happy tears to my eyes.

    And, yeah, where are all of the young hippies, the young who care about things that happen, even if it isn’t touching them and their protected lives? Sad.


Comments are closed.