I chose the moniker, A Wandering Jewess, when I dreamed of becoming a Rabbi. I imagined chronicling that journey, from lay Jew with Hindu leanings to professional spiritual leader, here. I was mistaken.
The desire to do that work left me one day, without warning or fanfare.
But the name remained.
The blog emerged as sacred space — a place I’ve come to unpack the sometimes messy experiences untangling from a 15-year relationship. Where I’ve come to record and reflect on life “after.”
I’ve wandered within myself and around the globe during this time of transition. To Rwanda. To Brussels. And halfway across this country, driving Interstate 90 from Seattle to Chicago – coming home.
I’ve been to Charleston twice. And on weekly Artist Dates, assigned and inspired by Julia Cameron in The Artist’s Way.
I’ve kissed new lips. Buried my birth mother and met new “family.” I’m living alone for the first time in 43 years. I like it.
Many have journeyed with me – offering companionship on the road, a bed or a couch to sleep on. An ear. A meal. A shared belly laugh. I have been held – literally and figuratively. And yet, one remains constant – this woman-girl-writer-artist. The one who was here before the marriage, and who waited to greet me after. Myself. Wandering Jewess.