Recipes for a Sacred Life: True Stories and a Few Miracles
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Praise for Recipes for a Sacred Life
“Exquisite storytelling. Written in the spirit of Elizabeth Gilbert or Anne Lamott, Neshama’s stories (and a few miracles) are uplifting, witty, and wise.”
—Publishers Weekly
“Joy-filled and laugh-out-loud, this beautiful book can open your heart.”
—Science of Mind magazine
“Neshama’s own stories will inspire you to find the magic and meaning in your own everyday life.”
—Bustle
“A bright promise of awakening that comes from simple ingredients and life’s most everyday moments—sunrises, walks, animals, neighbors, parents, being a grandparent, and making lists. The tales carry a resonance similar to healing stories from Rachel Naomi Remen’s Kitchen Table Wisdom.”
—Foreword Reviews
“Recipes for a Sacred Life left us moved—and changed. Wise, poignant, funny, and inspiring.”
—Redbook
“Rivvy’s bite-sized stories will make you nod with deepest knowing. It’s a magical companion.”—HuffPost
“Wouldn’t it be wonderful if there was a guide to happiness? Recipes for a Sacred Life is the closest thing I’ve found. Powerful. Inspiring. About adding love and joy to the everyday.”
—First for Women magazine
Sandra Jonas Publishing
PO Box 20892
Boulder, CO 80308
sandrajonaspublishing.com
Copyright © 2020, 2013 by Rivvy Neshama
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be used in any form whatsoever without the written permission of the author, except for brief quotations included in critical articles and reviews.
Revised and expanded edition. Originally published in e-book and paperback by Divine Arts in 2013.
Author photo by Darcy Kiefel, www.kiefelphotography.com.
Cover photograph of Rivvy and her mother, Irene, was taken by her father, Bernard Feldman, in Miami, Florida, after he returned from serving in World War II.
Cover design by Sandra Jonas
Publisher’s Cataloging-in-Publication Data
Names: Neshama, Rivvy, author.
Title: Recipes for a sacred life : true stories and a few miracles / Rivvy Neshama.
Description: Revised and expanded edition. | Boulder, Colorado : Sandra Jonas Publishing, 2020. | Notes: Originally published: Studio City, California : Divine Arts, 2013. | Includes bibliographical references.
Identifiers: LCCN 2019953126 | ISBN 9781733338615 (trade paperback) 9781733338646 (cloth) | ISBN 9781733338660 (e-book)
Subjects: LCSH: Spiritual life. | Spirituality. | LCGFT: Autobiographies. | BISAC: BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Women | BIOGRAPHY & AUTOBIOGRAPHY / Social activists | BODY, MIND & SPIRIT / Inspiration & personal growth
Classification: LCC BL624 .N475 2020 | DDC 204.4 — dc23
LC record available at http://lccn.loc.gov/2019953126
v1.9
DEDICATION
To my mother, Irene Dashevsky Feldman, inspiration, dearest friend, and Princess of Germantown Ave, with whom this all began
To my father, Bernard Saul Feldman, a teller of tales and a lover of life, with a spirit so big he still speaks in this book
To my son, Tony, and daughter, Elise, for the love, the lessons, and the journey together
To my grandchildren, Brendan, Jenna, Eli, Isaac, and Jordan, for the joy they give so abundantly (for which I am grateful to their loving parents!)
To Sarah Bowler, with love and gratitude for her endless help, faith, and friendship
And to John, my beloved. Of course.
CONTENTS
Welcome to the New Edition
Beginnings
PART ONE
Basic Ingredients
A Good Day to Die . . . or Not
The Where to Begin
Grateful in Harlem
Tea and Compassion
My Mother-in-Law’s Bedroom
Miracles to Share
Gracias, Gracias
Life, Death, and Laughter
A Good Day
The Lord Is with Me . . . or Whatever
Do the Right Thing
This, Too, Shall Pass
Poco a Poco
PART TWO
The Sun Is Rising
Hello to the Sun
The First Few Steps
Words to Live By
PART THREE
Animal Chats and Other Unions with Nature
In the Woods
Animal Chats
Odes to a Garden
Simple Pleasures
The Bird Connection
With Beauty May I Walk
PART FOUR
To Forgive Is Devine
Looking for God in All the Wrong Places
What the Dalai Lama Said
A Day to Remember
Rites of Forgiveness
PART FIVE
Friends and Neighbors,
Lovers and Strangers
Do You Give to the Ones Who Are Drunk?
The Ballad of Pam and Renato
Buddies on the Path
On the “A” Train
What Is Wanted? What Is Needed?
Confessions of a Listaholic
A One-Minute Recipe from Mexico
Young Babes and Old Broads
Just Like Me
Serving (People) (Dinner)
Have a Great Day! Not.
A Good Neighbor
“_ _ _ _ Is Closer Than You Think”
Come, Come, Come to the Fair
Something about Angels
Recipes for Partners: Keeping Love Sacred
Everything I Know about Sacred Sex
Take Care of Each Other
PART SIX
A Nature Recipe from Frank Lloyd Wright
Study Nature
Love Nature
Stay Close to Nature
PART SEVEN
Sacred Space. Sacred Time.
The Magic Hour
Zen View
A Sacred Space
A Sacred Home
One Holy Day
PART EIGHT
Soul Food
Mrs. Zimnoski and Her Vegetables
Sacred Sound Bites
The Humble Oatmeal
PART NINE
Rituals and Celebrations:
Birth to Death and In-Between
Join the Family
Hello to Dad, Nana, Uncle Bob, and . . .
Meditations on Meditation
Heart Like a Crystal
Sister Judy’s California Meditation Recipe
Greeting the Seasons
Looking for Light
Birth, Marriage, and Death
Pictures and Words
PART TEN
This, Too, Is True
Joy
Kindness—Random or Not
For Days When It’s Hard to Feel Grateful
Slow
The Sounds of Music
Fortune Cookie Karma
Do a Mitzvah. What’s a Mitzvah?
This Being Winter. This Being Human.
A Way to Dance
Tikkun Olam
Half Empty or Half Full?
Speaking Spanish in Mexico
One Last Song
A Note from the Author
Acknowledgments
Endnotes and Permissions
About the Author
LA COCINERA (THE COOK)
These teachings,
take them with a grain of salt,
the salt of your own being,
your own mind and heart.
/>
Sniff it out.
Does it smell right?
Eso no, esta si.
This yes, that no.
Don’t be afraid to pick
and choose.
That’s what cooks do
when they are making a dish.
Este plato es tu propio mismo.
This dish is you!
—ELLEN STARK, 2009
WELCOME TO
THE NEW EDITION
Once, in a small town in Colorado, I drove past a Chinese restaurant called Double Happy. I never ate there, but I never forgot the name. I couldn’t decide if it was a little over the top or if it had a deeper, more philosophical meaning.
When Recipes for a Sacred Life was first published in 2013 by Divine Arts, I was beyond happy, kind of in an altered state. I had dreamed of being an author since I was seven years old, and now that I officially was, everything felt more dreamlike than real.
Now, with this new edition being launched by Sandra Jonas Publishing, I am both calm and excited. With a few new stories, a brand-new publisher, and a new cover photo—of my mother and me—it feels like a rebirth for my book, and I feel twice blessed. Double Happy? Perhaps.
But I think there is a deeper meaning to that name. For what has given me the greatest happiness in regard to my book have been the notes I receive from readers, telling me how it brought them joy or comfort, tears and laughter, and sometimes even changed their lives. This, I believe, is Double Happy, where your happiness meets mine. And that’s what I wish for this new edition and for all its new readers.
BEGINNINGS
I’m not much of a cook. Neither was my mother. And that’s how it all began. When I was twenty-two and about to get married, she gave me a recipe book, the kind with blank pages to write down or paste in all your best recipes. Mom had written down hers to get things started, but she only had two: roast beef and chicken. Like I said, she wasn’t much of a cook. Still, she made a great roast, and here were her notes on just how to do it: Set oven at 450. Season roast with salt and garlic. Sear for 30 min., lower temp to 350, cook for 1 hour.
That was it. Nice and simple. The chicken recipe was pretty much the same.
So I got married, made roast beef and chicken, and if a friend ever cooked something tasty, I found out how and wrote it down in the book.
It was several pages in and one month later that I found more notes from Mom: Wash your delicates with Ivory Snow in cold water.
That’s no recipe, I thought. Then I thought, Why not? Mom was passing on whatever she hoped would prepare me for a good marriage, a good life.
Well, both marriage and life turned out to be much harder than I ever imagined. I didn’t know that after eight years and two children I’d be getting divorced. Or that the existential angst that looked so cool in French movies would be painful, not fun. Or that moments of great happiness and meaning could be swallowed by moments of fear. I didn’t know that outside of movies and books, this was life, and I often wished I had recipes telling me what to do, how to live, which path to take.
Meanwhile, my own path became one of exploring: a little this, a little that, whatever seemed to work. It could be whatever lowered the pain or anxiety I sometimes found in living, or whatever brought the greatest joy and lifted me to a higher level. I studied yoga and meditation, tried therapy and drugs, went to rallies and retreats. And my spiritual path became a smorgasbord that merged Eastern and Western religions, Native traditions, and my mom.
I also, over time, grew up, met and married my beloved John, and moved to the foothills of Boulder, Colorado.
It was many years later—after my children were married, after I’d sat and held hands with a friend who was dying, and after my highs and lows had somewhat smoothed out—that I saw an intriguing exercise in a book. It was titled “Find Your Highest Purpose.” Now, I’m a real patsy for these kinds of quizzes. They’re the esoteric version of the “What Kind of Guy Is Right for You?” quizzes I took endlessly as a teen.
So I closed my eyes as the book suggested, recalled three times when I felt passionate about something I did, looked for the common threads—the essence of my passion—opened my eyes, and wrote down “My highest purpose is . . .” And something inside me let me fill in the rest: “. . . to live a sacred life.”
Well that was a surprise. But then I wrote more, as I imagined what it would look like and how it would feel:
A simple life, filled with love, awe, and a deep sense of connection. A happy life, touched with grace and blessings. A life in which I know what I’m here to do—and do it.
And finally, as the book directed, I summed it all up in a way I’d remember:
My highest purpose is to live a sacred life, connected to others, nature, and the divine through love, gratefulness, and acts of service.
It wasn’t long after I did this that I got a call from Carol, the editor of a magazine I sometimes wrote for. She asked me if I’d write an article on creating a sacred space in your home. Well, sure, I said, hearing the drum roll of synchronicity.
My research began with friends who had shrines or meditation rooms and ended with a Native American Feng Shui master who happened to live nearby. We sat by a fountain in her living room—painted the colors of earth and sky and enriched with carvings of wood and stone—while she spoke about the power of color and the four elements and how they can bring magic and nature into your house and your life.
Her words touched me, and so did her home. Walking back to my street, I felt lighter, in a way I remembered but hadn’t been for some time. I began to write the article in my head—“How to Create a Sacred Space”—when suddenly I had an inspiration, a voice from above: Rivvy, write a book—How to Create a Sacred LIFE! Of course, I responded. Will do. And it was soon after then that I began to remember and encounter all the people and experiences that make up this book.
That’s how it works. The first step toward any goal is setting the intention; it’s your prayer and personal GPS.
I remember being startled the first time my son’s car spoke. Tony entered his destination and presto! This strange but knowing voice told him how to reach it. “Turn left at the light and go straight for three miles . . .” If I needed more proof, this was it: Let the universe know your intention, and you’ll be guided all the way there.
Why me? Why you?
And you don’t have to be perfect to live sacred.
Why me? Well, my English friend Helen, who served faithfully as my first reader, seemed to nail it. She stopped by one day when I was in a Jewish mood, worrying about everything I could think of, from getting a new bed to dying. “Rivvy,” Helen said, “read your book!” Then she added, with blunt British humor, “If anyone needs to be writing this, it’s you!”
Why you? Why not? Life is sacred—for everyone, not just monks and mystics. But to feel it and see it, there are things you can do, things that bring out the wonder and connectedness of everything in life. It begins with your intention, looking in. And it’s furthered by your attention, looking out.
One of the gurus I went to hear in the seventies was a man known simply as Stephen, who started a commune known as “The Farm.” His teaching I remember most was this: Attention is energy. What you put your attention into, you get more of. He meant it literally too, giving a whole new meaning to “What you see is what you get.”
At the same time, attention requires openness: open eyes, open mind. Being open to the sacred allows you to recognize it when it appears.
And finally, attention means pay attention. On Rosh Hashanah, the Jewish New Year, a ram’s horn called the shofar is blown for all to hear. Its piercing sound is meant to wake us up—to life, to who we are, to how we want to be.
And so, with intention and attention, I started writing this book. And the more I wrote, the more recipes I found, and the happier and more radiant my life and I became. What I didn’t become was much of a cook. Like Mom, I’m the roast-a-chicken type, and the recipes I’ve written are
that simple, with most of them passed on through stories.
So here they are . . .
So here they are, my recipes for a sacred life: some from family and friends, some from teachers and writers, some made up along the way . . . but all tested, tried, and true. They lift me up when I’m feeling down, help me look out when I’m focused within, and lead me back to my center, the moment, and the joy of a sacred life.
I’m sure there are many here that you already know and just needed to be reminded of (writing them down helped remind me). Some are old-fashioned things your parents did or you once did and then forgot. Some will seem just right, while others you might not like at all, and that’s okay (if you don’t like fish, don’t make fish for dinner). But what I hope is this: that you find a few that will add to the wonder, love, and sacredness of your life.
Those are the ones to follow. Those are the ones to keep.
Part One
* * *
BASIC
INGREDIENTS
It’s the basics, the footwork,
the where to begin . . .
A GOOD DAY TO DIE . . . OR NOT
Our culture is not too keen on death and dying. Truth is, neither am I. Perhaps I’d be more open if we could end our days by just fading into the night—after a great dinner with folks we love. I also find death much more acceptable on days when I’m feeling immortal than on days when I’m wondering, with anxiety, why I still have that peculiar pain.
This lapse of faith leads me to read many books about the cycles of life and death. Then I study other cultures that seem to have a deeper awareness of this sacred circle, like the Native Americans. When Chief Crazy Horse went into battle, he proclaimed, “It’s a good day to die!” Some American Indians still say it, every day, to be ready for death and to live their best life.
So I started saying it myself in my morning salutations, after blessing the sun, the earth, and all around me. And when I open my arms wide and look out at the sky and mountains, I often feel it: It is a good day. A good day to die. To merge with the universe and see what comes next. I especially feel it on blue-sky days when the crows are squawking and the trees are in bloom. Yes, I think, if I have to die, this would be a good day for it. (Notice I’m still using the “if”?)