Taking the Heart to Heart
(Double entendre and all)
Friday greetings,
Last night, M.J. and I went out for a rather spontaneous dinner. It was so lovely. I even had a cocktail. The whole time in the restaurant, I was seeing a red neon heart across the street.
I took that heart to heart, double entendre and all.
My recent case(s) of Covid began the week of their birthday and our anniversary, then they came down with the flu, then the atrocities by Hamas in Israel, then Netanyahu’s declaration of war, then the collapse of any sense of normalcy, together with immense grief, navigating how to be present to the different reactions and needs of those closest to me, all coinciding with my first Jewish Studio Project training retreat – the timing of which was such an unexpected blessing… whew.
Suffice it to say, spending the evening with my beloved just focused on each other was something I needed more than I knew. It can happen in such intense times that we feel more alone than ever. Finding ways to connect, both to ourselves and each other, is vital.
It’s Friend & Family weekend at Mount Holyoke, and I’m so excited for Aviva’s presentation about her summer internship and to hear her a cappella group perform tomorrow. Tonight, I plan to meet my local sister for Shabbat Ne’imah, our synagogue’s monthly musical service, which I love.
As always, I’m thinking about the co-existence of inner and outer.
We must tend to our inner lives, our own hearts, our most intimate relationships – including the one we have with ourselves. Doing so with compassion, patience, and presence is no small thing, and that no small thing can feel nearly impossible when we are activated and overwhelmed (and I think it would be fair to say this describes many of us right now).
At the same time, we are all connected, and we must continue to find our way towards meaningful and aligned ways of being in conversation and community. Also not a small thing, nor necessarily an easy or obvious one.
In lieu of answers, I will ask questions:
What practices, spaces, individuals, and communities nurture your inner work? Where do you find refuge and self-compassion?
What practices, spaces, individuals, and communities serve as guides for you in the world?
What (or whose) heart do you need to take to heart? (Hint: it could be your own.)
What heart-to-heart do you need or long to have?
I’m devoting the remainder of this week’s Dispatch to sharing details about upcoming and ongoing ways for us to write and work together.
My hope is that you will find it useful and that it might move you to honor what you find yourself needing in this moment, both inside and out.
Please feel free to share this information with anyone in your world you think might be interested. As always, feel free to get in touch with me with any questions.
Shabbat Shalom and love,
Jena
OPPORTUNITIES TO WRITE & WORK TOGETHER
Below you’ll find details about upcoming and ongoing opportunities to come together with the intention of getting words on the page, exploring the layers of our insides and outsides without agenda, and witnessing ourselves and each other in turbulent times.
Read on for details about:
The Shamati Sessions (four upcoming Mondays)
Sound of Real Life Happening (November 11-21)
Working with Me 1:1 (ongoing)
The “Shamati” Sessions (Zoom only)
“I have heard you.”
As is often the case, I created what I myself need: A place to land, to gather, and to carve out time and space to write and be witnessed.
WHAT IT IS:
Space to be together: To see each other’s faces and hear each other’s voices, to remember we are not alone in this, even in our differences.
Space that acknowledges there are many ways to grieve, and they are all valid.
Time to write: Each session will open with a short poem or reading, followed by a period of timed freewriting and (optional) sharing. Each reader will be met with a chorus of “Shamati” from their fellow participants. We will recite Kaddish, the mourner’s prayer, along with a prayer for healing, at the end of each session. No formal knowledge of any of the above is needed.
WHAT IT IS NOT:
A political forum.
A discussion group.
A place for debate, analysis, or judgment.
WHO IT IS FOR:
Anyone who identifies in any way as Jewish – there is no external or objective definition here. No one is more or less Jewish than anyone else, and no one’s way of being Jewish is the “right” way.
Folks who wish to be in a space of solidarity with the Jewish community.
NOTE: “solidarity” does not require being “on the same page” politically, ideologically, Jewishly, or emotionally.
It does, however, require a fundamental respect for coming together without needing to explain or defend ourselves, to be safe in sharing whatever we are grappling with, as Jews.
Non-Jews are also welcome, i.e. those who value writing in community as a form of creating connection and healing.
DATES:
Four consecutive Mondays. You can attend some or all of the sessions:
October 23
October 30
November 6
November 13
TIMES:
6:00-8:00pm EST.
Each session’s length may vary slightly depending on the number of participants.
COST:
This is a Pay From the Heart offering, no questions asked. No one will be turned away. Suggested range: $54-$200.
18% of your payment will be donated to the World Union for Progressive Judaism Emergency Appeal to Help Israeli Victims of Terror and the Palestine Children's Relief Fund.
Sound of Real Life Happening: November 11-21
(Facebook group with one Zoom gathering)
For the past two years, I have facilitated a year-long group called Sound of Real Life Happening here on Facebook. We "meet" in a group once a season to write 11 things each day for 11 consecutive days, with a Zoom call towards the end of each 11-day session during which we write together and connect face-to-face. The current cohort is in the midst of our final seasonal session of 2023, and what a time to be held by each other and this practice.
For those of you who don't know, writing 11 things is a practice I created (based in part on my birth time, 11:11) maybe five years ago (six? seven? who remembers). It is at once structured and spacious. For some, at first it is confounding – what do I write? And for most folks, it quickly becomes a go-to form for getting words on the page.
Elevens can hold joy and gratitude and elation. They can hold anguish, confusion, and disconnection. They can hold choppy waters and smooth sailing. Each day is new. We are always seeing more and less, depending on our inner weather along with external conditions.
This practice can be anything it needs to be. Some days, what if 11s are actually 5s? Some days, what if 11s are simply 11 parts of speech – nouns, verbs, adjectives, pronouns? Some days, what if 11s ask a question? Some days, what if 11s explore possible alternatives? Some days, what if 11s are simply the softest place to land?
One participant in this year's group likened the process over time to eating an artichoke. Slowly, slowly, we move towards the heart – our own, each other's. And of course, none of us knows what the time together will be, what the writing will be. It is an act of faith to begin again, each day, with #1.
I will be offering the year-long version of this group again in 2024. In the meantime…
Come experience for yourself how the 11s can hold you, no matter what is going on within you and in the world.
Dates: November 11-21
Size: Limited to 11 people :)
Cost: $111
Further details: www.jenaschwartz.com/the-sound-of-real-life-happening-1
Work with Me 1:1
Writing coaching can mean many things. My coaching style, borne of 20+ years of practice, is a mash-up of intellect, intuition, creative process, relationship-building, practicality, and simply exploring the wilds together as my clients discover, name, and deepen their own desires, goals, and outcomes (which sometimes aren’t tangible at all!). Also, Chalupa says hi and thinks you’re terrific.
I love this work with all my heart.
You deserve a coach who will not meet with you with prescriptions or agendas, but rather curiosity and respect for all you bring to the table.
We create the process together as we go.
Curious about working together? Schedule a “meet and greet” call and we can meet over Zoom to chat. You can share where you’re at, ask me any questions you have, and get a feel for whether you are sparked to dive in. No strings attached :)
Last Word: A Poem
Pearl (who is away this semester) asked me to send him this poem I wrote about us when he was three (14 years ago!). I share it here, holding all the parents, all the children.
What Our Hearts Are
Lying naked on my chest,
clean and smooth after a bath,
the sky a dusky cornflower blue.
“What’s in here?” Pearl asked,
tapping on my breast bone.
“That’s my heart,” I told him.
“You can hear it beating.”
He paused.
Some moments passed quietly.
“Your brain is in there?”
“No, my heart. Can you hear it?”
He listened again,
then lifted his head and looked at me.
“Sometimes I don’t know what our hearts are,”
he said.
I teared up.
“Sometimes I don’t know either,”
I told him.
“You don’t have to know. Just listen.”
And he fell asleep
to that ancient mama music,
the crickets outside keeping time
