Sherre Hirsch

Life certainly hit us over the head.

I had the incredible fortune of providing commentary for ABCNews.com on the National Prayer Service. The keynote was Reverend Sharon Watkins, the General Minister and President of the Disciples of Christ. To put it mildly, her sermon rocked the Cathedral with that special mix of intimacy, wisdom, humor and humility. But it was her central metaphor that struck a chord within me.

In a portion of her sermon Reverend Watkins told a story -  attributed to the Cherokee tradition -  about the two wolves that struggle inside each one of us. “One wolf is vengefulness, anger, resentment, self-pity, fear…The other wolf is compassion, faithfulness, hope, truth, love…”
Then she looked directly at President Obama, who was sitting in the front pew, and said, “We need you to feed the good wolf within you, to listen to the better angels of your nature, and by your example encourage us to do the same.”
OMG. Reverend Watkins was talking Jewish. In Judaism, we understand within each one of us is a yetzer hara, an evil inclination and yetzer hatov, good inclination. Both are intrinsic and important to our nature. According to the rabbis, even the evil inclination  - when properly directed  - can enable us to “build houses, make love, feel passion.”  But Judaism commands us to keep it in check. To nourish that side of us that strives to do good. To regularly feed that part of us  - through service and ethical behavior.
Reverend Watkins, the Cherokees and the Jews are saying the same thing. Ethical behavior is practiced over time. It is not a one time deal. Day after day, we behave according to our values and to our morals and lo and behold, we live like angels.
Regardless of your beliefs, words to live by and to practice.

Our son Emet just “lost” his fourth baby tooth. I quote the word “lost” because in reality all four of them had to be pulled by his dentist. The bottom two came out easily with a little gas and a little novacaine. But the top two were a bit of a problem. It turns out the new teeth had already come in a big way so it was going to take more meds to get them out.

Sitting there holding his hand, I thought I was going to faint. It looked ridiculously painful. He held it together very well. There were a few tears  - mostly mine  - and the teeth were gone. Once it was done, he turned to look at me and asked “Is there a tooth fairy?”

Knowing the best mom is the mom who asks the question right back (and therefore deflects any possible answer), I answered “ What do you think?”

“I think there is a toothfairy but  someone in my class said that your parents come at three in the morning and put the money under your bed.”  Before I could answer, he continued, “But I know you and Daddy. You would never get up at three in the morning.”

“Emet”, I said, “you are right. Daddy and I would never get up at three in the morning to do that. “ Technically,  I was 100% honest.  I slid in by the seat of my pants.

Fast forward to four a.m. Emet runs into our room holding the money the tooth fairy had given him and wakes me up.  “ Mom you can not be the tooth fairy! You were fast asleep! Now I know the truth.”

I could not help thinking  - as I was watching the children’s choir sing “He’s got the Whole World in His hands” during the National Prayer Service which officially began President Obama’s first day of work  - how much this song had new meaning. I sang it for the first time in the Christmas (yes, Christmas) pageant at my grammar school.  At the time, I was not sure who that “He” was referring to, but it definitely was not Obama. As I aged, I got it. God has the whole world in his hands.

But last Wednesday on his first official day of work I could not help but think the choir was not referring to God, rather to our new president. President Obama literally has the world on his shoulders. No pressure.

Everyone, not just Americans, is watching him. Watching every single move he makes. From how he deals with the situation in the Middle East to how he deals with his mother-in-law. You would think with this kind of scrutiny and pressure, he is bound to fail or at least crack. Yet watching him navigate his first day of work after 10 inaugural balls, he looked smooth, calm, as if he was saying to all of us. “No problem. I’ve got it.”

Only time will tell if President Barack Hussein Obama truly has it but I’m hopeful.

I love the Oscars.

I like all the big awards shows: the Emmys, the Golden Globes… My mother and I have a tradition, if we are not together then at each commercial we call each other and discuss the award, the speech and, of course, the clothes. So this year, as I was watching the Golden Globes, I was left speechless on the phone.
An actor who shall remain nameless (I do not want to speak Lashon Hara - wicked tongue) was glorifying drugs from the podium. I know that it has happened before. I am not that naïve. But for some reason this year when he started with “How cool is it that I was just doing cocaine in the bathroom with a so and so,” I was disgusted.
Why this year did it bother me more than ever?
Is it because the tradition will also soon include my daughter and I talking at the commercials?   I can’t let her watch this kind of talk. Or is it that an actor is paid to act. I do not want to hear about his illegal antics.  If the drug thing is just part of the act then it is inappropriate and if it is not, then it is even more so.
We all know that we live in a society where our celebrities are our children’s heros.   And as a mother, I never want my child to see someone they look up to glamorizing drug use.

A brief message to the upcoming Oscar winners: When you win, you are being rewarded for your acting. Be gracious, humble and brief. Most importantly keep your illicit activities to yourself.   If you have to keep acting, to do that, keep acting.  My kids are watching.

Sometimes when our son Emet is angry he begins to speak about himself in the third person.  And when he’s really upset, we don’t even get called Mom and Dad.  “Emet is feeling angry at Jeff and Sherre.”   Eden also has her own way of venting at us.  Her imaginary friends, Bunky and Maya often feel upset at Jeff and Sherre. Luckily Alia is barely talking so we are not the object of her disdain at the moment  - at least verbally.

I know that for a six and four year old, getting anry is can be confusing.   Telling us directly may be too hard, so it’s not me, it’s “Emet” or “Bunky.”  They worry we’ll be angry or that they will get in trouble.  And while we keep telling them that they are allowed to be angry and that we are ok with how they’re feeling, they don’t quite believe us yet.

And really, who can blame them.  The other day I was having a conversation with a friend and she was giving me some “constructive” criticism.  I’ve been a little short on patience lately with my mom’s illness and a lot of travel for work.  Could I just say, “Sherre is feeling like she wants you to shut up.”  Would my friend say that I am entitled to be annoyed and that she is ok with it?

Could I blame my kids?  They learn from me, couldn’t I have learned this from them?  Would it cause a laugh or destroy a friendship? Don’t answer. I know the answer.  Maybe that is part of the difference of being an adult and being a child. You know when to hold back.  If you have to let it out, you can’t blame your imaginary friend or third self.  You have to own it.

Given the craziness of the past few weeks, I’ve had to own more than a few things - things I have said, things I have done.  I’ve started to being sentences by apologizing for anything inappropriate I might accidentally say.  Maybe it’s time for a few imaginary friends of my own.

Have you ever noticed how much people are quick to criticize and slow to compliment? The other day I was on stand by for a flight home to LAX. The flight is overbooked. So what’s new? I let the attendant know my circumstance and I sit down to wait.

A young bully comes to the desk. He is a premier flyer  - whatever that means - and not only does he want to be first on the standby list but he also wants first class. He lets the attendant know and then stands in front of the attendant and stares at him for the next half hour. Every 2-3 minutes he reminds the attendant of his status and his needs. He is like that kid in the back of the car who keeps asking  “Are we there yet?”   So annoying.

After about a half hour the guy at the desk motions me forward. I turned to the bully and let him know that really need to catch this flight - my mother is being honored at a dinner tonight. He responds, “like I care”. I was shocked. Who says that outloud?  I wanted to respond - your mother would be ashamed of you. Instead, I hold my tongue; I do not want to get in a verbal match with this brat.

Time for the flight, the attendant hands the bully a first class ticket and he humphs, “finally!”  As if?  I know I am not getting on. I wonder if I had been ruder and more agressive, I would  have gotten on the flight.  I start to walk away. The attendant shouts out, HIRSCH. I look back at him and he holds a ticket high into the air.

I approach the desk and he smiles and tells me that I had it the entire time, that good behavior should be rewarded. He is right. Good behavior should be rewarded. I write down his name and position and tell him that US Airways will hear from me very soon and I board the plane.

I blog. You read. Great. Except, I have been looking on other people’s blogs and I have noticed something. They blog, people read and then comment. So lately I have been going to check my site to see if there are any comments.

It got me wondering -  is there a problem? Are the blogs not worth commenting? Is no one reading them? Do you not want other people to see your comments? Does the reader know how to use the comment function on the site?

I remember when I was in high school a teacher of mine said if there were no comments or questions it was a bad sign - that he did not make anyone think. But I realized he is wrong.

A few weeks ago I gave a lecture in Las Vegas (a surprisingly wonderful community ) and at the end I asked for questions. Nothing, nada, zilch. I give it another moment. A woman raised her hand and said,  “I don’t have a question, just a comment.”  Oh great, I think to myself  - I am about to get a monologue. Instead she says, “Rabbi Hirsch you have given me a lot to think about. When I get home I may have a question, then can I contact you?”

Her question gave me pause. Not because I am uncomfortable with her contacting me but it made me realize that I may be looking at the this blog thing all wrong.

You may not yet have formulated the question or the comment the minute I post the blog. You may have to think about it for some time and formulate some thoughts or feelings.  So here is my suggestion. If you read the blog and it touches your heart, send your friend to the site and share it with her. If you read the blog and you disagree, tell me. If you read the blog and you have questions or comments, feel free to post them. I would love to hear from you anytime.

I have a ritual. Every Sunday morning I am in town I go to Chad Hamrin’s yoga class at 7:30 am. And every week the same people come because no one would ever get up that early on a Sunday unless he is an insane yoga devotee. So every Sunday, I spend one and half hours in these painful positions which eventually calm my mind, my nervous system and prepare me for the week ahead.

Except every Sunday when I get out of class there are about 80 people waiting for the next class. Since there is only room for about 60 students, these yogis are anything but serene. Just to exit my class requires laser focus and intention.

And the other day as I struggled to get out the door, in total frustration, I turned to the teacher of the waiting class and said, “Would you get control of your students!” He looked at me like I was insane.

Sure enough, the next Wednesday I see the same teacher I had snapped at entering the class I am about to take. I am embarrassed and uncomfortable. Does he recognize me? I turn to apologize but he disappears into the bathroom. Well,  I think to myself, maybe I don’t need to say anything. But a minute later I turn to get my blankets and we are, again, face to face.

Stammering,  I apologize for Sunday. He has no idea what I am talking about or who I am. After all, he teaches huge classes all week long. I reintroduce myself, remind him of the situation and ask for his forgiveness once more. Now he remembers. He smiles and says thank you. “I accept your apology.”

At that moment, I had a flash thought to excuse my behavior. “Well, I said that because… “and then I paused.  Who was I kidding? My instruction to him was out of line and my task was to make amends without excusing my behavior.

And a few minutes I was resting on my mat feeling incredibly relieved and relaxed. For the past four days, I had been obsessively thinking about me, him, the situation. I finally felt clear to think about what really mattered.

I am still in awe how just the words “I am sorry” can change my entire disposition and demeanor. Try it, let me know what you think.

Desperately needing time away from our ‘regular’ lives, I made plans for the family to escape to Palm Desert for the weekend after Thanksgiving. When I told the kids, they were ecstatic. Just the idea of going away together thrilled them. So we left on our trip to the desert filled with hope and good intentions.

The first night was a disaster. Our youngest (2) was so excited that she could not sleep - it was her first family vacation. Since we were all in one and half rooms, none of us slept.  So the next morning got off to a bumpy start with three grumpy, tired children, one grumpy, tired me and one grumpy, tired husband.  By the late morning Alia (the youngest) was still awake and I realizing we were not going to survive if she stayed up for three days straight.

So, I drove her back to LA to stay with my parents.  Four hours of driving later, I was back at the hotel, exhausted and ready to collapse. But there was still the evening, when the older kids would be asleep and Jeff and I could have some time for ourselves.  Ha! We ordered dinner and everyone was fast asleep by 7 pm.  So much for day 1.

By the second day we were a little desperate - every one was trying to have fun.  We swam, we ate, we sang, but something was not clicking.  The hotel pools were packed with people, the food was mediocre and it was cold out.  All I wanted to do on my weekend away was get away!  I’ve written about my kid’s love of dogs here before and I thought that a dog movie would be perfect and so that night we went to see Bolt in 3D.  Dogs!  3D!  But taking a 6 year old and a 4 year old at their first 3D film was not so fun. The glasses hurt, the violent scenes more violent than normal. By 7 pm, we all crashed again.  Day 2, down.

By the last day, I just wanted to get home.  By now no one is expecting much; and then, a miracle.  We head out to the pool and it’s empty.  We start down the 60 ft water slide one by one. Finally, in a moment of daring, I ask the lifeguard if we can all slide down together.  I was sure he’d say “no”  - it had been that kind of weekend.  But he said “yes.”  For the next hour, over and over again, the four us went down that slide.  I have never laughed so hard in my life.

Driving home, my husband and I talked about how our horrible, terrible, no-good vacation was saved in the last hour.  Everyone was in a good mood.  And the best part?  The kids only remember is that last hour - all of us together, laughing.