Change

The irony of my last post is that I no longer go through those motions. My schedule has changed and I no longer find myself passing the mirror man on Monday and Wednesdays. Instead, I now spend 10 hours at Pardes on Monday, and almost 15 hours at Pardes on Wednesday. I think it will take me another month before I find my rhythm again.


This is a time of change. The world watched Barack Hussein Obama become President Barack Hussein Obama; the recent war in Gaza killed many but may have some positive lasting effect; it's starting to feel like spring here (which is bizarre). On a more personal level, my dear roommate is leaving after a crazy and powerful 5 months. I'm going to miss her, and not just because it's been a pain in the butt to find someone to replace her in this apartment. The next four months, I believe, will be just as transformative as the past five. They will be difficult in different ways: I've found a community, but where do I fit in this community? What from all of these experiences will I take home with me? Now that I only have four months left, what do I want to focus on? Am I trying to live life in a "constant climax" )as many people my age are attempting to do)? Or am I trying to find a rhythm, a pattern, that allows me to experience a solidity that I've created? I want to think more about these questions; first, I must find a roommate. (If you know anyone who is looking for an apartment in J-lem, let me know!)

I've made friends with the new guard at Yad Byad (the bilingual school). Every morning I walk through the gate and smile at him (I learned today that his name is Guy). He asks me, "ma nishma?" (how are you?) and I respond appropriately, though I am occasionally caught off guard by his friendliness. Small talk isn't really an Israeli thing. Today I passed through the gate 6 times (the teachers at Yad Byad needed some things at the convenience store, "let's send the friar volunteer!" (trans. friar: a sucker)). Every time I walked by Guy, he was doing something different: smoking a pipe, playing saxophone, fixing a radio... The friendliness at Yad Byad is refreshing because it seems to radiate from every face and every classroom. I'm grateful to have such places in my life, even if they do send me on errands.

I started a new class this semester called "Spiritual Texts and Practices." Just so you know, if you rolled your eyes or giggled, I'm expecting that. I'm aware of the "granola crunchy" nature of my activities. Every week, we learn about, discuss and participate in a different Jewish spiritual practice. Last week, we began with quieting. One focuses on his or her breathing, attempting to clear the mind of any thought. During this stage of mental quietness, one begins to focus on a holy verse ("God is truth," or something of the kind). After binding the mind to this holy thought, one makes a bakasha, or request for some kind of character perfection. This request must be positive, not negative ("Let me have more energy" not "Make me not lazy"). After this request, one utters a holy phrase and end in singing the phrase: "הורני ה דרכיך," "Show me, Oh Gd, Your path."
After attempting this practice several times, I found that I was completely unable to focused. I was so unfocused, that I even forgot that I was meditating. I forgot the process and I could not, in any way, control my thoughts. I couldn't even sit still. I was encouraged by the fact that my mind began to clear when we began singing. Too bad the music ends the practice.

This week we are discussing love and spirituality in the community. We read Kabbalistic texts and the "Beit El Contract," both relating to the value of communal love. For our prayers to ascend to Heaven, says R. Hayyim Vital, we must concentrate on loving all of the members of our community so that our prayers "ascend, bound up with all the prayers of Israel. By this means his soul will be able to rise above and effect tikkun" (tikkun: repairing of the relationship between the lower realm and the upper realm). We refer to this communal love as "havurah," or fellowship. Reading these texts is both inspring and grounding: the beautiful words of the strong connection between a coherent and loving community and spirituality are a welcome reminder of my strongest core values and essentially why I continue to be a passionate Jew. Our homework this week is to try to incorporate the phrase "love they neighbor as yourself" "ואהבת לרעך כמוך" into our morning ritual as a reminder that we should try to love and appreciate all members of our community.

I am also taking a class on Hasidut. We learn about the great Hasidic masters and their teachings. Our spiritual homework this week: "The רג'נר rebbe knew what his function was in life and he knew how to do it. Do I know what my function is in this world? Do I know how to play that role? Am I working in that direction? Do I need to refocus? What is my function in this world? What wavelength am I broadcasting on (this is a Kabbalistic question, crazily enough)? What are my strenghts?

I hope I made you think a little bit. Or I gave you a way to clear your mind.
חודש טוב