Recipes for a Sacred Life: True Stories and a Few Miracles

by Rivvy Neshama

  —RUMI

  ONE LAST SONG

  My mother, Irene Feldman, was a singer. She once auditioned in New York for Irving Berlin, who offered her a gig that very night. But she was young and scared and went back to Philly—to be a housewife, raise three kids, and star in such synagogue specials as Porgy and Bess. Two of those kids, sister Susan and I, shared her aspirations, which we displayed at an early age by singing show tunes at dinner. Susan went on to make it to Broadway. I just went on. But I went on singing, a way to open my heart.

  It wasn’t until I moved to Boulder that I first attended a singing party. Helen and Allan often had them at their house in the mountains. They would make copies of the songs for that evening, though anyone could start a song they liked.

  One night, near the winter solstice, I went there with Paul and Jeanne, even though I had the winter blues and was not in the mood for singing (in fact, I was thinking, Oh puleez!). But I was in the mood for drinking. So once we arrived, I poured a glass of Bailey’s, sat near the fire, and listened.

  Some of the people sang solos, which were pleasant to hear, but mostly we sang together, which raised the energy much more. It felt good to be with people and not have to talk—just everyone together, singing. Especially rousing were old-time favorites (“She’ll Be Comin’ ’Round the Mountain”), gospel music (“Amazing Grace”), and top hits from My Fair Lady.

  When we bundled up to leave, Helen told me, “I’m glad you came. I could tell you were a little sad at first. The singing did you good.”

  And as we drove down the mountain, Jeanne said, “Singing is healing.” I nodded and thought of my mom.

  When my mother was eighty-eight, she entered the hospital for a second go at experimental heart surgery that had almost killed her the first time. Her three daughters—Susan, Judy, and I—all flew in to be there. As Mom waited to be taken to the operating room, we sat together on her bed, and though she looked small and frail in her hospital gown, she seemed strong in spirit. Stronger than I felt, for sure. I was scared and didn’t know what to say to her in those pre-op moments. After all, the doctors had been clear: It was a gamble; she could die.

  I wanted to say something meaningful, words that were worthy of maybe being my last, but still sounded upbeat and reassuring. An impossible task. So instead of talking, I started to sing—a takeoff of “Frère Jacques”—and my sisters soon joined in:

  Reenie Feldman, Reenie Feldman,

  We love you,

  Yes we do,

  You’re our dearest mother,

  There could be no other,

  One like you,

  We love you.

  Mom loved it. So much so that when we finished, she sang to us. It was a song she had performed at age five at a movie theater talent show: “Me Without You,” a Betty Boop kind of ditty. She followed up with a lively Yiddish love song, “Sheyn Vi Di Levuneh” (“You’re as Beautiful as the Moon”).

  Susan caught it all on her BlackBerry, and then an intern came to take Mom away. As he wheeled her out on the gurney, headed for surgery, she blew us kisses until out of sight.

  This time, the operation worked. But Lord, had it failed, what a good day to die.

  Right, Mom said, but what a great day to live.

  Irene Feldman

  * * *

  Irene Feldman died peacefully in her apartment on November 14, 2018, at the age of ninety-seven. She was the beloved daughter of Ellis and Rebecca Dashevsky, the beloved wife of Bernard S. Feldman, and the beloved mother of Susan, Judith, and Rivvy.

  A NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR

  It’s hard for me to believe that my book has been out in the world now for more than six years. (It’s even harder for me to believe how many years I’ve been out in the world!) On launching this new edition, I’d like to share with you all a letter I wrote to my readers one year after my book first appeared.

  November 2014 Dear Readers,

  It has been a year now since Recipes for a Sacred Life came out, a year in which we met, or met anew, through my book. It feels so much longer; the year was so full.

  There was the amazing joy of the book being published, eight years after I first began writing it.

  There were the magical mornings and evenings of meeting you at readings, where together we created a sacred space.

  There was the delight (and relief!) of receiving beautiful reviews and five national awards and of being a Redbook Book Club Pick of the Month!

  There was my heart being touched when hearing from readers that the book inspired or uplifted them, gave them pleasure, or helped them heal.

  And there were laugh-out-loud moments. Like in Pacifica, California, when I entered their sole bookstore, asked for owner Aaron, and proceeded to give him my pitch for stocking my book. It was only after he said “I think you want the Aaron next door” that I realized I was in a bait and tackle shop—which explained the lack of books and abundance of fishing rods!

  Yet all of this happened, for me, in a time of sadness. For this was a year in which so many of my friends, family members, and heroes died that I almost felt the world—my world—was disappearing. It became a world without Nelson Mandela, one of our greatest teachers. A world without Reb Zalman, one of my first and constant spiritual teachers, who appears in two stories in this book. And hardest of all, a world without my beloved friend Sarah—who read every page of my book as I wrote it, who appears so spiritedly in its stories, and who died so bravely when her brain cancer returned.

  In the midst of this, I gave book readings in twelve cities, and my normal performance anxiety was exacerbated by my sense of loss.

  “They want me to be joyful,” I said to John. “And I’m not feeling joyful.”

  They want me to be spiritual, I thought. And I’m not feeling spiritual.

  But gratefully, I discovered I was wrong. All you wanted—perhaps all that is ever wanted—was for me to be real.

  So I thank you for all you have taught me, for your loving feedback and support, and for showing me, in case I forget, how many good people there are in this world. And as Reb Zalman often said, “The only way to get it together is . . . together.”

  With love and gratitude to all my readers,

  Rivvy

  ________________________

  Publisher’s note: Thank you for reading Recipes for a Sacred Life. As an independent press, Sandra Jonas Publishing relies heavily on word of mouth to gain exposure, so if you enjoyed the book, please tell your friends. And we would be very grateful if you could post a rating and short review on Amazon and Goodreads. We look forward to your comments.

  ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

  If I ever won an Academy Award, they’d have to drag me off the stage. That said, here goes:

  Deepest thanks to my first readers for their encouragement, faith, and invaluable feedback: Sarah Bowler, Barbara Fisher, Helen Turner, John Wilcockson, and Irene Feldman.

  Lasting gratitude to my wise and wonderful agent, Kristina Holmes, whose strategic powers allowed her to tame the force of Mercury in retrograde to find us our made-in-heaven publisher, Divine Arts.

  I am ever grateful to Michael Wiese and Geraldine Overton-Wiese of Divine Arts for giving me such a loving welcome and constant support. To them and to all the Divine Arts team—especially Travis Masch and Manny Otto, who helped in every way; John Brenner and Jay Anning, who made the book look so handsome; Ken Lee, who helped me navigate it all; and Matt Barber, my kind and word-wise copy editor—I thank you with all my heart for believing in my book and helping it to be born into the world.

  And now, my book and I are delighted and excited to be under the wing of Sandra Jonas of Sandra Jonas Publishing. Sandra has been the guide and inspiration for this new edition and is paving the way to take it further. For all of this—and for Sandra—I am deeply grateful.

  With great appreciation for those who walked me through this mysterious process: Hal Zinna Bennett, Jim Levine, Jenny Bent, and my many colleagues in Boulder Media Women who ga
ve encouragement and advice.

  And loving thanks to all who lent a hand along the way: Angela Bowman, Laura Marshall, Judy Feldman, Mary Benjamin, Bella Stander, Paul and Jeanne Visvader, Susan Feldman, Martha Griffin, Emily Spielman, Jody Berman, Lisa Trank Greene, Karen Wegela, Paul Hansen, Elise Berkman, Cindy Berkman, Roslyn Schloss, Danielle Poitras, Susan Rose, Celia Bockhoff, Zach Johnson, and Kimmerjae Macarus.

  I felt blessed by those who endorsed this book early on: Rabbi Zalman Schachter-Shalomi, Marilyn Webb, Barbara Fisher, Ally Sheedy, Hal Zinna Bennett, Jay Neugeboren, Priscilla Stuckey, and Bryan Luke Seaward. And special thanks to Byrd Baylor and Peter Parnell for their inspiring book The Way to Start the Day; to Uncle Greg, Aunt Emma, and Uncle Bob, for their inspiration as good writers and good people; and to all the photographers whose pictures grace these pages: Jack Greene, Barry Berkman, Iván Loire, Stanley Lanzano, Mula Eshet, and Mary Frances Carmell.

  I gratefully acknowledge my teachers who are featured in these stories: family and friends, neighbors and strangers, and all other seekers and messengers of truth.

  Yes, yes, I know, time to end. So lastly, but most resoundingly, my thanks go to John, for everything. And I bow with gratitude to the Divine Spirit, from where these stories most magically came, and to you, dear reader, for whom they were meant.

  ENDNOTES AND PERMISSIONS

  I am grateful to the following for their inspiration and, where needed, reprint permissions.

  Front cover: Family photo of Rivvy and her mother, Irene, in Miami, Florida, in 1947. Photo taken by Rivvy’s father, Bernie, who had just returned from Europe, where he served nearly three years as a soldier in World War II.

  Beginnings: The “Find Your Highest Purpose” quiz was inspired by Marcia Wieder in her book Making Your Dreams Come True, Harmony Books, New York: 1999.

  Part 1: Basic Ingredients: Photo courtesy of the US Army.

  The Where to Begin: Recipe inspired by Deepak Chopra in his book The Seven Spiritual Laws of Success, Amber-Allen Publishing and New World Library, San Rafael, CA: 1994.

  Grateful in Harlem: Ending quotation from Start Where You Are by Pema Chödrön, ©1994 by Pema Chödrön. Reprinted by arrangement with Shambhala Publications, Boston, www.shambhala.com.

  Miracles to Share: Quotes from Stand like Mountain, Flow like Water by Brian Luke Seaward, HCI, Deerfield Beach, FL: 1997. Reprinted courtesy of author.

  This, Too, Shall Pass: Quotes from Claudia Dreifus’s interview with the Dalai Lama, AARP The Magazine, March 2006. Copyright © Claudia Dreifus. Reprinted by permission.

  Part 2: The Sun Is Rising: Photo courtesy of Iván Loire, www .2earth.org.

  Hello to the Sun: Verse from The Way to Start a Day, written by Byrd Baylor and illustrated by Peter Parnall, Aladdin Books, New York: 1978. Text copyright © Byrd Baylor. Reprinted by permission of author.

  The First Few Steps: My morning prayer was inspired by Victor Villaseñor’s Rain of Gold, a Delta Book, Dell Publishing, New York: 1991.

  The gatha “Waking Up” is reprinted from Present Moment Wonderful Moment: Mindfulness Verses for Daily Living (1990) by Thich Nhat Hanh, with permission of Parallax Press, Berkeley, CA, www .parallax.org.

  Part 3: Animal Chats and Other Unions with Nature: Photo copyright © Mula Eshet/Robert Harding World Imagery/Corbis. Reprinted by permission.

  Part 4: To Forgive Is Divine: Photo courtesy of Stanley Lanzano, from his book, True Places: A Lowcountry Preacher, His Church, and His People, University of South Carolina Press, Columbia, SC: 2009.

  What the Dalai Lama Said: “Forgiveness interventions” were reported in Melissa Healy’s article “Forgive and Be Well?,” Los Angeles Times, December 31, 2007.

  Rites of Forgiveness: The forgiveness exercise described is from Shakti Gawain’s book Creative Visualization. Copyright © 2002 by Shakti Gawain. Reprinted with permission of New World Library, Novato, CA, www.newworldlibrary.com.

  Part 5: Friends and Neighbors . . . : Photo courtesy of Jack Greene.

  Do You Give to the Ones Who Are Drunk? Rabbi, philosopher, and physician Moses Maimonides’s writings on “tzedakah” are found in the Mishneh Torah, chapter 10.

  Have a Great Day! Not: Lines from “Textures,” courtesy of poet Stan Grotegut.

  Studies correlating gratitude with well-being include one by R. A. Emmons and M. E. McCullough: “Counting Blessings versus Burdens: An Experimental Investigation of Gratitude and Subjective Well-Being in Daily Life,” Journal of Personality and Social Psychology 84, no. 2 (2003): 377–89.

  Take Care of Each Other: Lyrics from “Let There Be Love,” written by Ian Grant and Lionel Rand. Used by permission of Shapiro, Bernstein & Co. All rights reserved. International copyright secured.

  Part 6: A Nature Recipe . . . : Photo courtesy of Jack Greene.

  Part 7: Sacred Space. Sacred Time: Photo courtesy of Jack Greene.

  Quote from a conversation with Brian Spielmann, by his permission.

  Zen View: The “Zen View” concept is from A Pattern Language: Towns, Buildings, Construction by Christopher Alexander, Sara Ishikawa, and Murray Silverstein of the Center for Environmental Structure, with Max Jacobson, Ingrid Fiksdahl-King, and Shlomo Angel. Oxford University Press, USA: 1977.

  Part 8: Soul Food: Family photo of Passover Seder, circa 1954. Rivvy sits on the right behind her father and sister Susan and across from her mother and sister Judy.

  Part 9: Rituals and Celebrations . . . : Photo of Tony and Cindy Berkman courtesy of Mary Frances Carmell.

  Looking for Light: Quotation from Expectant Listening: Finding God’s Thread of Guidance by Michael Wajda, Pendle Hill Pamphlet #388, Pendle Hill Publications, Wallingford, PA: 2007, 4. Permission granted.

  Part 10: This, Too, Is True: Photo of Eli and Isaac Lipman courtesy of their grandfather Barry Berkman.

  For Days When It’s Hard to Feel Grateful: Story inspired by Dr. Richard Carlson in his book Don’t Sweat the Small Stuff . . . and It’s All Small Stuff, Hyperion, New York: 1997.

  Do a Mitzvah. What’s a Mitzvah? Researchers at the National Institutes of Health discovered that giving affects the same part of the brain stimulated by sex, drugs, and money (Robert Franklin, Minneapolis-St. Paul Star Tribune, February 21, 2007).

  Author’s photo: Copyright © Darcy Kiefel, www.kiefelphotography.com.

  ABOUT THE AUTHOR

  Rivvy Neshama is a writer, editor, and community organizer who holds degrees in philosophy, comparative literature, social work, and education. Her diverse work experiences have included being a teacher and social worker in Harlem, a campaign manager in Boulder, a college instructor in Queens, and a tarot card reader at Macy’s on Halloween.

  In Colorado, Rivvy was the founding development director of Intercambio Uniting Communities. And as a cofounder and first director of Transportation Alternatives, the advocacy group for bicycling, walking, and public transit in New York City, she was profiled in Ms. magazine.

  A lifelong writer, Rivvy was first published in Story Magazine’s best college writing anthology and has since written for many national publications, including Ms., Glamour, Spirituality & Health, and the New York Times. She is the author of the children’s book Nat Turner and the Virginia Slave Revolt.

  Rivvy lives in Boulder, Colorado, with her husband, British author John Wilcockson. Please visit her website: rivvyneshama.com.