Who hasn’t

Who hasn't been a Jew? My mum has, certainly me in my dreams. Who in central Europe hasn't? Probably only those who lack sensitivity, imagination, and a taste for books and history. Certainly I eerily sensed my past in the streets of religious Jerusalem, and you keep coming back to Poland, to visit no one, … Continue reading Who hasn’t

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Intergenerational trauma re-play

It was definitely a well-scripted play. Setting, surprise, suspense, culmination, resolution, aftermath, reverberations. A good portion of drama, directed by the echoes of the past, the fruitfulness and irritability of the moment, and a certain aesthetic sensitivity. Philharmonic sensitivity. When to increase the tension and volume, when to let it abate. The fallout was and … Continue reading Intergenerational trauma re-play

Language and trauma

/*this is a mild article on trauma related to cultural alienation from the perspective of someone whose migration experiences weren't dramatic or violent thank God, so no trigger warnings. Brief and non-graphic mention of a friend's refugee camp story*/ This morning found myself looking at the signup information for a professional course in trauma therapy … Continue reading Language and trauma

Berlin mon amour, migrant dilemmas

as they do in Romania, a pig probably has to be slaughtered. the question is in the choice of pig. some good candidates are pride, identity, comfort, psychological defences, love, money, career, or perhaps home, childhood; the past, the future, memories, or hopes. it's a good menu. apparently slaughtering nothing leads to nothing to eat … Continue reading Berlin mon amour, migrant dilemmas

Crumbling the Berlin wall

People are different here. They don't send money back home to their parents. Instead, their parents buy them cars or houses. . They don't hang on to life and sanity with the last claws of their humanity, will power, focus. Many walk placidly. There is indifference and distance. . They are reasonably comfortable. Perhaps explore … Continue reading Crumbling the Berlin wall

Iron Curtain 2018. (Wherein I cross my childhood border and revisit spiritual remnants of the Berlin wall.)

I crossed this border once again. The mythic border, across the river in the mist in the mornings, heading towards the sunrise, when i was a very small child. it's ingrained in my brain, perception and heart even though there is no border here anymore. Even the Syrians can apparently pass. No one controlled me. … Continue reading Iron Curtain 2018. (Wherein I cross my childhood border and revisit spiritual remnants of the Berlin wall.)