Yael Nehama

It's taken me some time, but I am learning to love this city. Well, it'd be nice and might not have taken so long if the inhabitants of the "City of Brotherly" love would try to be a bit more, er... lovable. Inspired by the visitphilly.com billboards all over the city, I decided to create my own. I may even make a few more. If you are having a hard time reading it, just click it and it will magically get bigger. °Ü°

Introduction: I have a tradition in my home, I relate the story of each of my children's birth to them on their birthday and I am quite sure they can give it over themselves quite well by now. Perhaps they can even recall an echo of memory, so often I have told them. Each time I tell it, it is as if I am birthing them again, I feel all the intensity of that love at first sight feeling. I did not intend this tradition, it simply came about, but over the years, I have realized why this was so very important to me to perform this ritual on their birthdays. It is because I do not know my own birth story. My birth mother left the planet when I was 5 months old. Because of this, I don't know much about my infancy or my childhood save for the mythology that has evolved over the years. The anniversary of my own arrival is tomorrow and, perhaps because of the time of my life I am in, I feel very sad that no one will give over my story to me. No one will look into my eyes, tears welling ...

I have been following the Wise Woman all of my life in the many forms she has manifested herself to me. Young girl, nomadic gypsy, devil may care 20something, abused wife, horny teenager, cranky old woman and many more. Each time she has taken me on a new path. Each time, I've been hesitant to go. There is not much light it seems at first. Maybe just a candles worth, simply lighting the step directly in front of me. "That is all that is necessary to move forward." she assures me. Strangely enough, in spite of my fear, I follow her. I must, I believe I have no choice, for to remain where I am is to die a death of the spirit. As I follow her there are times I struggle to keep up. Her knowledge of The Path allows her the agility of an erudite and reassures me. Occasionally I notice fear peeks from behind the trees reminding me that he is there. I linger not at his sight, moving on and marveling at her confidence, praying one day that will be me. Finally, we come to a door. A...