Author: d.j. posner

There are many things that I possess that ‘speak’ to me. I love that I have these treasures within my reach. Whether they are meant to bring comfort or wisdom or even humor, I visit them whenever I feel the urge to obtain the graces they invoke.

The first favorite thing in my belongings is a beautifully carved pewter Hebrew House Blessing. It is hung in my studio, above my desk. It was a gift from a friend and is quite an extraordinary item. While it is meant to bring blessings to our home, I find that it blesses me too, when I am in need, and that is often!

Each pewter medallion of the wall hanging holds one scriptural verse for one specific element. There are six medallions one for each blessing. Since my remembrance of reading Hebrew has dwindled, my friend lovingly taped an indicator on the back of each one – Life, Bounty, Love, Luck, Success, and one that says “I don’t know, I’ll ask David” – David being her scholarly ex. When I feel I need a recharge, my ritual is to approach the blessing and touch one medallion with silent devotion and then turn it around to see what blessing I am going to be endowed with! Now you can see why it is one of my most favorite things.

Another favorite thing I possess is a cashmere wrap gifted to me by my sister. It was an expensive gift (Sis leans towards spoiling me). It is elegant, and sumptuous, and I keep this wrap near me at all times. When I am on the sofa, it makes for the perfect lap robe. When I am heading out to a restaurant for dinner, I grab it because Lord knows the Florida restaurants keep the thermostat set to ‘Downright Cold’ (that’s meant to keep the old folks awake during dinner!) This favorite thing brings me comfort whenever I am in need.

The last item of my favorite things is an antique teapot that belonged to my great-grandmother. While its spout is slightly chipped, to me it is perfect. I use it most nights, and when I do, it conjures up memories of being in Nannie’s house as a little girl. She had all kind of cool things – antique dolls, a cribbage board, a shelf full of Hummels – but my most favorite thing was, of course, the teapot. After her death, it passed down to my grandmother, then my mother and now to me. I love its history and love the way it makes me feel to know that it has survived a century. I AM an old soul after all.

I find I am feeling a bit nostalgic as the holidays approach. I have enjoyed visiting these favorite things with you. I hope it inspires you to visit with a few of your favorite things and let the sentiments they evoke surround you!

This is a portrait of my father at the helm of his 42′ Japanese Yawl, the ‘Morning Star’. Today marks the 35th year of my dad’s departure from this earth. This, to me, means that I have walked on this earth longer without him than I did with him. That’s powerful.

My dad died young, too young – my baby sister was still a teenager which is very sad – no bubba to walk her down the aisle. We made do, however, older brother assuming the role. But no one could really fill his shoes, he had big shoes and an immense personality to match; he had hundreds of friends and a zest for life. I am happy he didn’t put things off in his lifetime, his life went by so quickly. Yes, his departure left a huge hole in our little family.

My dad was responsible for many traits that I possess. He instilled in me a work ethic than is commendable – most who know me will testify that I will work doggedly towards a goal. He also taught me about expectations and how they can propel you, hence him gifting a new Steinway piano for my 8th birthday. My dad always held me to a higher standard, and where that seemed at times to be unfair when I was adolescent, it formulated in me a desire to grow beyond standard measures and seek more perfection in life. Perhaps he knew he would not be around forever, perhaps the high bar he set for me was meant to guide me beyond the days he would have to dedicate to the effort.

Even sitting at his bedside the day before he died, he was setting the bar. He was looking forward with me in mind and speaking of his reliance on me to accomplish what was leftover….”Remember to do this…”, he said…”Remember to do that – I am counting on you”. I remember each word and each tear-filled promise I made. I believe in my heart I have fulfilled them all. I think he would be proud of that result. I know he is still watching over us – the three children he left behind.

I know this to be true – I was his Golden Child. Dad had assigned nick-names to the three of us – older brother was ‘Pud’ (which I guess was some derivation of Pudding); I was ‘Doobie” (which I guess was meant to conger a Do-Bee – as opposed to a Don’t-Bee); and baby sister was ‘Pooker’ (presumably because she was so damn cute, and still is) – regardless they all fit!

I do not, for one minute, take for granted that I am one of the lucky ones. I grew in a family home filled with plenty of love and encouragement. Thanks Dad, for setting that bar high! I did it — I did it all!

It is hard to define the meaning of Hope. It is elusive, and an action with little reason or justification.

We all have known the feeling of hope – we wish for it many times in life. We wish the newlyweds hope for a happy life. We bless a newborn with our hopes for good health as they grow. We wish hope for ourselves when we face change or difficulty.

Hope, to me, is born out of the promise one holds in their heart. When there is nothing concrete to rely on, it is our inner voice that prompts us to trust and believe in what the heart is set on. I think hope is a lovely notion, elusive as it is – it gives flight to many a dream and when combined with devotions or prayer often times delivers realization.

The statue above is called the Angel of Hope. This statue was born out of a movement for parents grieving the loss of a child; the most unbearable loss a human can face. There are more than 150 of these statues erected in cities and remote towns across the states. Every December 6th, there is a remembrance for this angel who is said to ease the grief of these parents and help them remember and heal. If you know someone who has suffered through this unspeakable loss, please reach out to them and offer a kind word. Sometimes a ‘reminisce’ or a thoughtful comment will be just what is needed to help that soul through another day.

“Love isn’t a state of perfect caring. It is an active noun like ‘struggle’. To love someone is to strive to accept that person exactly as he or she was made, exactly as they are here and now.”

~Fred Rogers

I recently posted this wonderful quote by Fred Rogers. There lies a profound ideology within the simplicity of its message. The term ‘unconditional love’ is thrown around freely these days; the basis of its meaning is Acceptance. In other words, if you wholly love another being, do not assign expectations to them to behave in the way that you do or react the way that you want them to react. The action of acceptance is allowing others to be themselves. By relating without any expectation, you allow another the space to grow exponentially both spiritually and emotionally. Accepting someone means you love them today, just as they are, with all of their victories and failures. 

How we get to Acceptance is by practicing letting go. By letting go of preconceived notions or expectations, we instead open up a state of mind in ourselves of anticipation. And, in the excitement of anticipation, you can eagerly wait for another’s reaction instead of expecting it to be as you wished.

So, take on the curiosity of child. Open up and explore life and the relationships you have (and will have) as if it were your first day with them, regardless of what the past has dealt you.

There is far more kindness and goodness to be had in doing so, and this divisive world certainly needs more of that!

Last month marked the third anniversary of the death of one of my childhood influences. To honor that date, I wanted to write a piece about this tremendous icon and how through his written word and lyrics I found my own voice.

Leonard Cohen is one of the most enduring cultural figures in modern history. Through his music, writing and art, he inspired and influenced multi-generations of followers all across the world.

I was an introspective soul barely in my teen years when he began making big waves. I hung onto every word of his deep and sensual poetry. His music opened my eyes and ignited in me courage, faith and a fathomless imagination. I was smitten, and I couldn’t get enough.

Leonard’s lyrics, I felt, were written to me, I heard the voice of his written word so clearly, I was seduced by his message. In the mid-60’s, my parents would often drive up to the relatives in New York. During these NYC visits, they would make the rounds of the famed Greenwich Village clubs of the time. I loved the stories they told on their return, ‘beatniks’ they called the performers, I thought that term so odd. But that was the name coined, the Beat Generation, which represented its followers identified by their unconventional style of dress, behavior and views.

As I matured and grew my own views and preferences, I still hung onto Leonard’s music – because it was evolving as much as I was. Perhaps Cohen’s most prolific and widely-known song, Hallelujah, was not recorded until he was 50 years old. Throughout the long expanse of his storied career, this poetic visionary delivered astounding pieces of work and did it with approachable elegance and an old-world gentleman-like demeanor. The lyrics and poetry just kept on rising!

I have followed and deeply admired many poets and musicians in my day, Bob Dylan, John Lennon, Joni Mitchell, to name a few. I believe that the message we receive from the powerful heroes that we identify with help fortify and shape our own world attitudes. Though many viewed Leonard as somewhat dark, I absorbed him in great white light. And even though I evolved greatly from that innocent naive ‘tween-ager’, I still felt devastated when Leonard left this earth on November 7, 2016. Like any devotee of a hero, I can still remember where I was standing and what I was feeling.

If you are not familiar with Leonard Cohen’s body of work, you may want to explore it. Given that it spans over many decades, the message it delivers is quite profound.