Category Archives: Animals

Tell Me What Prayer You Say

Tell Me What Prayer You Say

Tell me what prayer you say
when you’ve been afraid, terrorized, misunderstood, forgotten, discarded.

What words do you use?
Do you have faith?

What prayer do you say when your body, mind, soul, life
have been trampled on, or assaulted?
What prayer do you say when you’re fighting for your life,
or the lives of others?
Is marching your prayer?

What songs do you sing when they’ve stolen everything,
broken—Everything.
Burnt or tortured or shot through you or near you?
After you’ve buried your family, fled, drowned, collapsed?
What is your prayer for the child alone at sea?

Which direction do you face?
East or west?
Where is your True north or south?
Is your head covered or exposed?

What prayer do you say when they have come for you,
labeled, sorted, and separated you,
detained you, stripped you, held you down, shackled you, enslaved you?
What is your prayer for the ones who are already dead, or for the dying?
What about Saying the Names or the markers or protecting the sacred grounds?
What about the wind and the sun?
What about the Earth?
What prayer do you say when your child wants to
live, but there’s not enough food, water, air, shelter, medicine?
The bombs and guns and bullets shatter everything in classrooms and
in all the broken places here or there.
Where is the clean air, the safe drinking water, the place for dreaming?

What prayer did you say when they took your father, mother, brother, sister, child, land, food, water, home, homeland?
Are you standing?
Do you pray at night?
Do tears roll into your pillow?
Do you have a pillow?
A bed?
Are the stars your roof?

What prayer do you say when you’re kneeling,
leaning against a wall, stretching down on the rug,
sitting on a bench, or a branch?
Are you dancing in a field?
Do you light candles and drink wine?
Do you have bread?
Are there flowers? Feathers? Stones? Beads? Holy water?

When you stand on the mountain or in the valley or on the street corner
do you see a way forward?

Are we not, every single one of us here under the same sky?

Do you pray to go forward, or are you about surviving only this next minute?
Is it the same thing? Is standing still an option? Do you carry signs?

Is your prayer Resistance? Is your prayer Justice and Freedom for every single human, or just for some?

What prayer did you say when you were abandoned, lied to,
when you were disapproved of, given up on, turned away from, shut out,
stepped on, beaten down, shackled, locked in?
Locked out?

What prayer do you say if you’re not strong enough?
If you’re sick?
If you’re dying?
What prayer do you say for living?
For animals and bees, rivers and trees?

Is there a prayer for when you’ve lost hope?
Who hears that prayer?
What if you don’t believe in God or that anyone is listening, or anyone cares?
You are different, you are the same, and you’ve been hurt badly.
You’re holding on, broken inside, and your legs buckle.
You’re still grateful for your legs,
and the floor beneath you.

What prayer did you say? All those years
you’ve cried over the elephants, bears, seals, the coral reef,
the lost and stolen children, the tigers, the lions, the whale,
and you’ve done everything you could
to help.
And, it is never enough, and you tire of fighting to be seen, to be recognized,
for your birthright,
your human right; that you are born, and therefore, you exist,
a human, born for
Peace and Love, but denied it daily.
Until you’re buried, and even then the liars and bulldozers come.

You’ve cried over children and the ground, over hangings, over beatings,
Over evil in hoods or suits, they shape shift,
They bear unwanted gifts, stealing lives.
We cry together over lost dreams
and broken pipes, while poison flows, and the tears of millions fall.
Still: silence and violence. Still: Never Again.

But, it continues,  over and over again, never stopping.

What are the words for that?
What picture do you paint?
What dance do you dance?
What music do you play or sing?
What funny story do you tell?

How do you pray when you don’t believe in prayer?
What is your prayer today?
When you need a miracle; that is: a hand up, a door opened, someone who sees you and doesn’t look away when you’re suffering.
What if your prayer isn’t heard today but you need it to be heard today?

Who has your back?
Who’s with you?
Who gets it?

When you’ve been hurt and you already despair and a man of the cloth
Says, go die, what prayer is there for that?

When you or someone you know has given up, and too many around you want you gone,
And all you want is air, water, to be free, to love.

When after waiting, after being crushed, after disappointment, after being silenced, after broken promises or treaties, after despair, and somehow you’re still standing,
and maybe you even know that you’ll never give up,
And you know exactly what you’re fighting for, but you still need help.

How do you help?
Did you ask what is needed?
Did you listen?

Is your prayer a hug, a bowl of rice, warm gloves?

When hope is gone, what is your prayer?
How do you pray for strength and to not give up?
Which part of you do you call on to get through the day? This hour?
Is your job not to save another?

Is every child and creature not a world of wonder?
Does your planet not spin? Does gravity not hold you here?

In your prayers,
Do you see light and the infinite colors?
Do you float? Rise? Chant?

Do you say: count me, too.
Have you saved yourself?
Have you saved another?

Please,
Tell me what prayer you say.

© Elana Halberstadt, January 27, 2017

 

Love & peace for 2017

Dear Readers,

It’s been almost a year since I’ve written here.

Been dealing with lots of health stuff, and so much has happened here and around the country and world. There’s been way too much collective grief, hurt, disappointment, anger, and harm done to children and innocents everywhere. Aleppo, Syria alone makes me question humanity, makes me wonder (again and again) if mercy is only for some and not all. It seems so.

All the pain in the world, in all the corners where lives were cut short, or were ruined, families torn apart, or obliterated. Like no one learns from history and our species
seems hell bent on self and planet destruction.

The many stars, artists, thinkers, humans who left us.

The election.

In the midst of this, and everyone’s individual private or public life battles, people go on and live. Remarkably, people continue working,  laughing, making art, pushing forward. We all do what we have to do to get by, and there’s no way through it but through it. Which sucks a lot of the time. And this year has been difficult for many, and these are extraordinary times. Lots of WTF?! Seriously?! And now what?!

I don’t know about you, but I could do with a minimum three-month long hibernation right about now.

holidays2016

My hopes and wishes for the New Year include love and peace, clean water, fresh air, good food, safety, freedom, justice, more kindness, an end to cruelty of all kinds,  for science and facts to (eventually, and before its entirely too late)  win the day, and for the wildlife creatures and seas and skies to keep on and keep on while we each find our own ways to keep going, be with those we love, and resist  and organize peacefully so we can work to get our democracy back for everyone.

Love,

Elana

 

A Painting of a Bird

Dear Readers,

A few weeks ago, Max came into my office/studio and said, “I’m bored.”
I offered him a few options. One was to paint. He said, “Yes!”

I asked if he wanted paper or canvas. He chose the canvas board, then picked out
a few of my brushes and I helped him set up his workspace on the dining room table.
He didn’t want an easel, saying, “Painting flat is better for me.”
I helped him put out colors (he wanted the acrylics), water, some rags and paper towel.

He was clear on which colors he wanted to start with (blues) and what he wanted to paint (a bird).

While painting, he called me over and asked:
“What do you think of this color?”

I replied,”What do YOU think?”
Then I continued, “Max, I love your color choices. But its your painting. You get to decide if you like it, if you want to change it, if the colors are the ones you want. Really, all that matters here is if YOU like it. If you’re happy with  it.”

He carried on. M used a lot of water and realized that if he tilts the painting, that very watery paint will run.  Instead of it potentially being a “oh, no, my painting is ruined” moment, we used this discovery for good.  M took it in stride. I showed him how he could dab off extra water if he wanted, and explained that even if it ran, that he could choose to keep it as part of the painting.

Then he said, “I’m really interested in making a realistic eye for the bird. All my pieces have some realism in them.”  He spent a lot of time on the eye and he talked more about how important it was for him to do.

M said it was a painting of a Robin and also of a Flamingo, but didn’t want to title the painting too specifically.

So, here it is, “A Painting of a Bird” by Max  Halberstadt Turits, August 2015,  11″x 14″ acrylic on canvas board.

A Painting of a Bird by Max 2015
A Painting of a Bird by Max 2015

Love and peace,

Elana

Ringo Good Cat Angel with Fur

Dear Readers,

Ringo has been gone now a little over 26 hours. I just cleaned out her litter box and completely broke down crying. The house is empty without her.

One of the first pics of Ringo, May 1999.
One of the first pics of Ringo, May 1999 at 5 weeks old.

Our announcement about Ringo to friends and family,
written yesterday 10/1/2014:

January 2006 at age 7, photo by Ari Halberstadt
January 2006 at age 7, photo by Ari Halberstadt

Ringo Halberstadt Turits Good Cat

Born, exact date unknown, March 1999
Joined Andy & Elana on May 2, 1999
Died Wednesday, October 1, 2014

Our Dear Sweet Angel Cat, Ringo left this planet at around 10:30 am this morning. 
She was 15 years and 7 months old.

Ringo was born in Hoboken, NJ and rescued by Eileen “Honey” O’Leary. We were truly blessed to have luck put us right there to pass by a friend, who called us over and said, “Guys, you’ve got to come see these kittens!” Andy and I found her there when she was approximately five weeks old. We brought her home and she became an essential part of our family. We have loved Ringo every day since and she has loved us.

Ringo died peacefully and with us holding her paws and touching her beautiful fur. 
The last things she saw were our faces and hands. The last words she heard were 
“We love you. You are a good cat. Thank you, Ringo.”

We talked about arriving at the Rainbow Bridge. We envisioned for her an open field with wildflowers, bugs and butterflies to catch, and a sunny spot of sun for her to be in always.

Grace and Peace to Our Beloved, Ringo, our Love Angel Cat of Destiny and Healing Paws. We miss you dearly, terribly, and we are heartbroken. But we’re also immensely relieved that you are free of pain. Your infinite, kind spirit and soul are already working in mysterious ways to help us through.

Yesterday Max said: “Ringo’s work here is done. She has achieved all her life goals. So now, she can rest.”

This afternoon, after we told him the news, he looked up to the sky and waved, “Hi Ringo.” And then he said, “She will meet up with all the other cats. There’s a cloud where all the cats and animals you knew are playing together. No more pain and running free like when she was a kitten.”

All Goodness and Love.

The last pic I took of Ringo at 12:27am on Oct. 1, 2014, her last night's sleep at home on the purple couch.
The last pic I took of Ringo at 12:27am on Oct. 1, 2014, age 15 years and 7months  for her last night’s sleep at home on the purple couch. (The black spot on her left hind leg is where the extra sweetness went in when she was made.)