From the Fringe
I am expected to place this fringed prayer shawl across my shoulders. Aversion to the idea arises in a rash of heat. I am radically uncomfortable with what for me, remains a peculiar form of cross- dressing. Still, I place the talis loosely around my shoulders and sigh, as it lazily slips off. I see. This cloth has to be consciously clung to or it will not stay. I hold on to it, nervously twisting the fringes.-
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Monthly Archives: February 2010
The French Disconnection, 2: Stranglehold
Americans are caught off guard when I tell them that during my sojourn in France it was difficult to admit of my devotion to yoga without raising suspicions of belonging to a cult; even my enthusiasm for Insight Meditation alarmed … Continue reading
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The French Disconnection, 1: Innocence
It is the fall holiday of Sukkot when I am seated on the couch of our living-room nursing our 4-month-old firstborn Raphael Jacob. (He is now 30-years old.) Suddenly, the floor under my feet and the glass windows are shaken … Continue reading
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SusanRTorn - From the Twisted Fringe 