Joy Serves G*d in Joy as a passionate performing percussionist, poet, publisher, photographer, publicist, sound healer, spiritual guide, artist, gardener and Gemini. "Ivdu Et Hashem B'Simcha" -Psalm 100:2 ....... Joy Krauthammer, active in the Jewish Renewal, Feminist, and neo-Chasidic worlds for over three decades, kabbalistically leads Jewish women's life-cycle rituals. ... Workshops, and Bands are available for all Shuls, Sisterhoods, Rosh Chodeshes, Retreats, Concerts, Conferences & Festivals. ... My kavanah/intention is that my creative expressive gifts are inspirational, uplifting and joyous. In gratitude, I love doing mitzvot/good deeds, and connecting people in joy. In the zechut/merit of Reb Shlomo Carlebach, zt'l, I mamash love to help make our universe a smaller world, one REVEALING more spiritual consciousness, connection, compassion, and chesed/lovingkindness; to make visible the Face of the Divine... VIEW MY COMPLETE PROFILE and enjoy all offerings.... For BOOKINGS write: joyofwisdom1 at gmail.com, leave a COMMENT below, or call me. ... "Don't Postpone Joy" bear photo montage by Joy. Click to enlarge. BlesSings, Joy
Kabbalistic Sephirat HaOmer day 40 HEAVEN and EARTH CONNECT Gratitude for G*d's Gorgeous Garden (that Edith tends with great love)
HOD sh b'YESOD
With a bracha / blessing
and these posts
implanted in Yesod,
I birth more beauty
for others to behold.
In Edith's Garden I feel the glory of G*d's goodness, and I have Gratitude.
Edith, her cat and dog and I, have bonded.
Friend Edith calls me at 6:30 am (as arranged) to quickly drive over and photograph new open buds.
Every flower is a gift.
The sun rises, and when the clouds pass, the red Poppies shine all the way back to Heaven.
It amazes me that the delicate poppies share the same pot of earth with the sturdy young Sago palm.
Edith (89 years young) sits on her porch playing with Lola (the big black Lab and her slimy ball), as I lie down with camera in the moist grass (or hard pointy pebbles in the dirt), looking up at the sun lit poppy petals against the beautiful blue sky. The red poppies are glorious. As I gaze upon the poppies, the petals detach and gently drop to the ground. I pick them up, raise up myself, and bring them to Edith to enjoy.
I hope the buzzing bees don't sting me (again).
Adjacent are the pink Cosmos appearing more grounded than the tall slim poppies.
How am I thankful for the birthed splendor I receive in our universe?