There's a hit And run every 45 seconds

There's a hit And run every 45 seconds

There's a hit And run every 45 secondsThere's a hit And run every 45 secondsThere's a hit And run every 45 seconds

My Story. About Me.

My Story.

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I survived a pedestrian near-death hit-and-run.  On March 9, 2018, Shabbat, 7:25 pm, at the corner of Livonia and Pickford, in the Pico-Robertson area of Los Angeles. I took one step off the curb. A driver of an SUV ran the stop sign, made a hard left, and physically struck me, throwing me almost three houses down the block and left me gushing blood in the middle of the street. The paramedics didn't think I'd live. I've had a miraculous - but not magical - physical recovery:  

There are so many details, but the only one that matters to me is: I lived.  

I didn't realize how much I wanted to live. And now I do. I'm so grateful to have a second chance at life, and I need to make my life worthy of this second chance.  I'm so grateful I can love my children, here on earth,  everyday. While I believe God saved my life, I also believe God made this happen (and by the way, that doesn't make the driver less responsible). I've heard many times - from many sources from Oprah to great rabbis - that first God sends you a whisper. And then a little tug. And then... you get it. So what message wasn't I hearing that I needed to be smacked upside down by an SUV? Honestly, I don't know. But this has been a major life reboot. 

While it's true that I never would have chosen this - and I would't wish getting physically hit by a car on anybody, a very unexpected thing has happened: I feel like a shell I didn't even know I had has been cracked open. I feel more like myself than I ever have. 

So many blessings have come out of this - but here're two that I think you'll especially appreciate. First, I never felt so loved I'm my life. The outpouring of love and concern has been overwhelming. It rained soup for weeks. I couldn't chew for months, and people - close friends and people I hardly knew - just showed up with soup.  And the tefillah/prayers - I know I'm alive on the wings of the prayers of hundreds of people - many I don't even know - and I'm eternally grateful. Thank you. 

And second, I learned how to take care of myself. As women, especially, we rarely put ourselves first. I had no choice in learning this lesson. I had absolutely no physical ability or inner resources to do anything for anybody. I think I'd always been a good listener, but I couldn't even be that anymore. Sometimes when friends would be telling me something on the phone,  suddenly it would feel like my head was going to explode.  And abruptly, I'd say, "Sorry! gotta go."  It was almost a year before I could say, "I think I can start being a friend again."

About Me.

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All the things typically written in an "about me" section seem so insignificant now -  past accomplishments, professional successes and all that...

Writer. Speaker. Artist. Lyricist. Activist. Advocate.  Entertainment industry life coach.  I coached women in prison and kids of incarcerated parents and hope to be again soon.

And I'm thinking about writing TV again, so, yeah, feel free to call if you're Netflix. 

I aspire to be as fierce, focused, fearless, as thoughtful and as good a friend as my daughter. 

I aspire to know my truest self as fully, trust my inner voice as completely,  and to move through the world with as much originality as my son. 

I'm soulmates with olive trees, azure seas and every beach on earth.

Israel. Everything.  Except that fake orange juice. 

Hands in the dirt, heart on the sleeve, soul wayyyy out there. 

Dark Chocolate. White jeans.  Blues dives. 

I have a landline. 

613. 

Good chance that was me you saw dancing in the market.

I can remember only 3 times when someone else smiled first.  

I dressed up as white light for Purim. 

Let's do something together and make everyone safe. 

xo,

Sher