My half birthday!: 182 days until I'm 40

As Jewish people are engaged in a ritual called counting the Omer--counting the days between  Passover and Shavuot (Pentecost), counting the days since I started my blog started to make a little less sense. I started 2 months ago, as I was mourning my dad, and here I am 2 months later and a little shaky about how much healthier I am.

Therein lies the trick of my mind. Because the truth is--I'm definitely healthier. I have started attending a queer fat support group and met 4 other people who have had a lifetime of American childhood and adulthood thrown at them. There are moments when our stories are all so painfully similar. Growing up fat left its mark on each of us and continues to be part of who we are becoming in beautiful and sometimes challenging ways. Learning about fat activism is amazing. I knew it existed but maybe shame or just plain being out of the loop left me in the dark all these years. (that may be a touch overly dramatic)

I have stopped many of the disordered eating behaviors that were running pretty intensely through my system 2 months ago. I am working with different doctors to be accountable for the levels of my cholesterol, Hemoglobin A1C, and taking some new medications to move me toward healthier.

And guess what? I had plenty of days when I didn't want to get out of bed. I had days when I didn't  even leave the house.

And I'm still healthier.

I ran in the Hot Chocolate 15K on April 1st with my friend Sarit. It hurt. I was exhausted. But it was also an exhilarating accomplishment. Sarit and I trained to do the Dublin Marathon together after my dad died in 2015. I didn't end up making the trip for a lot of reasons, but most importantly, I wasn't ready. A marathon is an intense physical endeavor. I knew from my first and only marathon in 2007 that I needed to be better trained than I was. I enjoy the challenge of distance running, but like I said when I started this blog:

Sometimes I'll write and sometimes I won't. Sometimes I'll exercise and sometimes I won't.

And today I know with greater certainty than I ever have before that sometimes is all I can expect from myself. It's all any of us can expect from ourselves.

Our society of 24 hours a day/ seven days a week/ always open/ always on is debilitating and we all need sometimes when we are off and not on. And it isn't going to be the same for all of us. Some of us will need more than others. One of my best friends is able to maintain a high level of functionality on 4 hours of sleep. Almost every day. When she splurges, she throws in an hour long nap putting her kid to bed. I can only pull that off a few days a month. And today, I'm ok with that fact.

I was flipping through Instagram and found my a new gift to by myself at www.tinytimemachines.com
Maybe when it arrives I'll try taking this new watch with me on a run or to the woods and I'll leave my Apple Watch at home for a change.

#NOWmaste

#g!dnotGod

Day 48: Taxes

Sometimes standing in front of thousands of people is the encouragement needed to take a stand, to get up and to speak my truth. It took a lot of courage and I wanted to share it here:

Tax March
April 15, 2007

Sh’ma Yisrael, im kol shonuteinu kol ha’adam echad.

Listen, you people who wrestle, in all of your diversity, all of humanity is one.

This week, the Jewish community is celebrating the holiday of Passover. It is the story of our liberation from slavery and oppression.

It is not just a story about supernatural intervention in history. It is the story of sending a message to the Pharoah through demonstrations of just how powerful people can be when they join together and demand change.

It is not just a story of how God intervenes in human history to redeem the enslaved Israelites. It is a story of people who stood up and made the change happen. The rabbis taught that it was an Israelite, Nachshon ben Aminadav, who stepped into the sea. That it was his faith in the possibility of redemption that caused the sea to part.

I stand here today as a representative of different facets of that story. My great grandfather was a rabbi and he immigrated to this country and changed his last name to Benmosche--son of Moses, literally his father’s name, but also implying he was of the people who struggle and travel to find freedom. I inherited both his last name and his passion for service in the Jewish community. A passion to seek out injustice and to work for those who need support.

There is a repeated mandate throughout the Bible to care for the widow, the orphan and the stranger. As American citizens, we fulfill that mandate through the social services that are available because of our taxes and philanthropic efforts to support non-profit organizations dedicated to this work. We want to know that our leaders support those efforts.

But I don't just stand here as a person who has taken on a legacy of service. I am also the daughter of the late, former CEO of AIG, Bob Benmosche. When my father passed away in 2015, I inherited the financial legacy of his work as a corporate executive. It feels especially important to share that fact because I am the “rich” who benefit from unfair tax systems and loopholes. And I am standing here and standing with you to say: it is wrong.

I also understand personally that taking on public roles in leadership takes away the right to privacy that other citizens enjoy. When you chose to make your life public, when you choose to represent the tax paying American citizens, you have a responsibility. Transparency in your business endeavors and in your personal life in multiple arenas IS the work of gaining the trust of the people you are leading.

We stand together today demanding that work be done. We stand here declaring that we care about creating fair systems of taxation that support our communities, especially those with the greatest need.

Kulanu na’avod l’taken et ha’olam ha’zeh

Let us work together to repair this world.
Through truth.
Through transparency.
Through a fair system for all.