On Reiki and the Rabbi's Pants

I am wearing the Rebbe's pants. They are blue. They are sweatpants. I am wearing Kabbalistic sweatpants.

No such thing you say?! Come closer child and tell that to my Dockers brand, elastic waisted treasures.

The Rabbi gave me his pants. It all happened very quickly.


I was sitting in the Den. I had arrived late (again) and the Rabbi had been waiting.

Note: I do not in anyway shape or form condone this behavior. In fact, I would say, in a perfect world, never keep a 96- year- old Rabbi waiting. I'm sure there could be a clever refute to my claim, but I will leave it be for now.

Es Geht.

I had arrived in a pair of jeans, per usual, except in my haste to get out the door, I grabbed a pair of ripped ones and being me, didn't think too much about it.

While we are on the topic, it is probably notable to bring up that I have a strange relationship with pants. I know a few people who have strong opinions on the state of affairs with my pants.

(Sigh.)

I know. I know.

And now the Rabbi has an opinion too. And one less pair of pants.

Like I said, we were in his den, talking about Wanting What you Want, an Old Tailor That Had Never Existed in Some Village that Had Never Existed, and Things in Life That Do and Do Not Fit You; when he suddenly got up, said stay right here, and hobbled out of the room.

When he returned he said, "speaking of things that fit, put these on, right now. "

I laughed.

He was serious.

"I don't know if you know this or not, but the ones you are wearing are ripped. "

I smiled and told him I knew.

He held the athletic wear out to me, "I'm not sure where these pants came from, something my ex-wife probably bought me, but see if they are your fit."

He tossed them at me and told me to go in the other room and put them on. See if they are a fit, he says, leaning on his cane.

I slipped into his kitchen, pulled down my drawers, and came to find that a few seconds later I was wearing a pair of ridiculous, penguin reminiscent sweat pants and that I had never felt so hip or happy.

He loved them.

I am going shopping today. If you see me this afternoon you will undoubtedly see new clothes or at least new pants that were not previously owned by a 96- year- old -man.

Can it be true that I hate shopping so much that it would take the chagrin of an old Tzadik to get me to H and M?

And in other unrelated- to- pants news, I am now a level one Reiki Practitioner. I am still not one hundred percent sure what that means for me, but it sounds powerful and significant doesn't it?

All kidding aside, it is a fascinating healing art and I have to practice, so if your chakras are anywhere near me in the near future hit me up for a tune up!


PS Do you have any idea how much I love having a cell phone entry that just says-"The Rabbi"?
Do you have any idea how much I love these pants?