Saturday, May 7, 2011

A Thought Before Leaving




Sitting at the kitchen table, munching on a dark chocolate brownie cookie (things really do seem better with chocolate), my mind began to wander. I have a short time before I need to leave the house to attend the second installment of a series of Goddess classes I signed up for; not enough time to pull out my artwork or type away at my book. In lieu of doing either of those things, which tend to focus my mind and ease my anxieties, I'll write here.

Yesterday I was overcome by the feeling that something really great was about to happen. Very often, I'll have such feelings when something bad is soon to occur, but not the other way around. This can be frustrating, and so I was happy to be having this new experience! I'm still unsure of what, if anything, this means. Lots of times I'll have a feeling about something that takes place a week or so into the future; I thus far have only had a handful of experiences where I could see exactly what was going to take place. Today I also have a feeling of dread. With the news constantly broadcasting images of bin Laden and the bloody floor of his bedroom and the underlying fear of future attacks hanging over our heads like a fishing net, it's small wonder I feel uneasy. I'm happy that this man, who I feel had been overtaken by the evil of his own fanaticism, is no longer on this side of the veil. I hope his spirit will be re-born into a human who is kinder and more in harmony with humanity, and that the horrors he orchestrated in our country can heal more for his absence. I have complete confidence in our SEALS, am relieved they managed this attack without injury to any more of our own, and applaud their bravery and perseverance. What troubles me now is that his killing has stirred up the proverbial hornets' nest. While I doubt we were much safer with bin Laden alive, I fear his death might re-energize his followers with a martyr fury. Fueled by rage and with their hatred of us energized by the conception of their leader as a fearless man who went down defending what he believed was right, I fear they might be provoked to attempt something terrible soon. With our families so spread out around the country, this causes me further anxiety.

I hope I'm wrong, and I don't think that the feelings I have are related to any issues of nationwide importance. Still, my discomfort level has been raised by the events of the past few days. Images of the twin towers falling still haunt me, as I'm sure they do most Americans old enough to remember that day. I awoke with a renewed realization that the world can truly be a frightening place, that the innocence I once possessed has been forever erased, that sometimes it's all too easy for people to be pursuaded into evil for the sake of their twisted version of faith.



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Thursday, May 5, 2011

Catching Up




I've been finding blogging to be a difficult endeavor lately, thus I have been neglecting this site badly. I've been short of time to read blogs or post on my own, and even now I only have a short moment to write. This is a good thing, I suppose, since all of the things that keep me busy enrich my life and I would be a sadder person for not having so much energy swirling around me.

Beltane was a fairly quiet affair for us. We attended a festival at the local UU Church (my first holiday festival, actually), narrowly missing the May pole dance due to a car emergency. We had to go home early to pick my hub's car up from the garage, but I'm glad we got to partake of some springtime revelry with a bunch of cool people.

The year continues to move forward and I'm feeling in my bones how things are shifting in my life. The Universe reveals so much to us when we approach our lives with wide open eyes, but sometimes the changes are very subtle. I think that many people, expecting that spiritual messages have always to arrive in a bang of white light, miss the messages which try to reach us in the ordinary moments of our days. I experienced a wonderful meditation a few nights ago. While deep in a state of quiet and peace, I asked my spirit guide why I still feel such a hole in my soul when I already have so many blessings. The answer I received was straightforward: you're an artist who isn't creating, a writer who isn't writing, a passionate person who isn't using your passion toward a cause you believe in, a spiritual being who is just beginning to delve into a much deeper spiritual experience. You're a lover of mountains trapped in a flat landscape. You have many deep needs that need to be filled but are being neglected, and if you want to feel whole you must do the things which are meant to keep you that way. Reading this, the message might seem very negative, but it really wasn't. The message, as the conversation continued, was that being aware of our deficits hands us responsibilty for getting off our butts and taking the action we need to take. If I know I'm trying to do this, then I don't feel like such a powerless victim, and things can truly begin to happen.

Peace!

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Sunday, April 17, 2011

Sunday Introspection

It's Sunday, and I'm taking some time to rest and be a little bit lazy for a short while. It's raining as as I sit outside under the awning by our garden patio, and thundering as well. I'll remain here until either the lightning or the mosquitoes drive me inside. I love spring storms such as this.

Yesterday was a busy, good day: youth group in the morning, a sweet 16 party for the wonderful girl who babysits our daughter last night. We stayed out a bit late; since the little one has been sick we didn't want to "over do" it and had intended to leave the party early. There never seemed to be an appropriate time to leave, however. Before we knew it, 10:30 had arrived and we were leaving amidst a flurry of teenagers. By the time we went to bed it was midnight.

Today, we all slept late but I still feel sleepy. The sound of the rain softly falling and the cool kiss of the wind on my face are only serving to lull me further. The mosquitos will push me to go inside soon; the little buggers are really screwing with my serenity.

This post is the first with my picture on it, and there's a reason for this. Up to this point, I've been very "broom closeted". Now, I'm not going to hang a sign in front of my door, but I do wish to be a bit more open and a bit more true and a lot less hypocritical. My life has been touched by death quite a lot over recent months, and that's gotten me thinking a lot about life. I've been mulling quite liberally over the idea that so many of us reject who we really are, or live our lives in fear of our true selves being outed. If life is short and we never know when the end might arrive, shouldn't we live it to the fullest? Shouldn't we choose an ethical spiritual path that fits us, listen to the callings that beckon our hearts, and move forward boldly in the direction our dreams guide us to?

I think so. And I've decided to try it out.

Friday, April 15, 2011

It Who Shall Not Be Named Rages On

The yucky continued to infiltrate our home yesterday, though my little one seemed to be doing slightly better.  She's managed to keep a bit of milk down (she asked for milk, and while I had my doubts, she did okay with it), and only threw up once yesterday.  At one point during the day she looked up at me from her place beside me on the bench at the kitchen table and very plaintively cried, "Mommy! I can't enjoy anything right now!" My heart was broken. 

I am trying to stave off whatever this is (I'm not using the "v" word, believing that words possess power and wanting very much for it to leave us quickly).  I've been feeling tired in the mornings, waking up with the sensation of having been beat up in my dreams, and experiencing a bit of sour stomach throughout the day, but thus far I'm in denial with regard to being sick.  I'll admit that I'm fighting something off and have gone as far as to skip the gym this week (I hate missing my thrice weekly workouts because they keep me mentally A LOT more sane) but am hoping that I can escape the experience of full-blown illness.  I don't have time to be sick with a stomach v--- (almost wrote it), though I know that such things don't really care what events I have penned onto my social calendar or my house list. 

On another note, I am homesick.  I suppose I'm always a little homesick for New England, but lately I've been homesick in the extreme.  This morning I was browsing the web site for Earth Spirit, reading up on all of the events going on up in the Massachusetts region over Beltane, and was struck with such a feeling of wanting to be connected there it made me choke down a sob. I know this sounds very dramatic and maybe even silly, but it's true.  I love our house, and our friends, and this new journey I'm taking with the Sisterhood (in spite of my spiritual ramblings, I think I'm beginning to understand who I've always been and feel like I might even be able to embrace it without fear of what most of the outside world thinks), but I can't shake the feeling that I belong up north.  Of course, my husband might not share this sentiment. He likes New England, and I believe if he didn't have to do construction there he'd be okay with living in that type of environment.  Right now, though, it isn't happening.  More will be revealed.  And, hopefully, I'll be up there for two weeks this summer with my little one.

Sunday, April 10, 2011

Wonderful Saturday Experience

Yesterday, I had the opportunity to attend a class on Goddess spirituality, facilitated by a wonderful woman in the magickal community who has been studying and priestessing for twenty five years.  Surrounded by other women, I spent a glorious two and half hours or so learning about the Goddess in her maiden aspect, followed by a guided mediation which proved to be a powerful experience for me, as well as for all involved.  I decided to attend the class because I feel that over the past several years I've been looking at life largely from the sidelines, peering over the fence and watching others play from a safe distance.  I'm tired of gazing at life from that vantage point and feel ready to dive into a new adventure, wherever it takes me.  I was reminded yesterday of what attracted me to this spirituality in the first place: I felt happy sitting in a room of open minded people, people who accept me for exactly who I am and who seem genuinely interested in living a life filled with spirituality and the sparkle of magic and mystery.  I left the tea shop feeling uplifted, happy and positive, and I felt good about once again putting a foot forward and allowing the other to follow, not merely reading about the existence of a class which I thought sounded interesting, but actually getting into my car, driving over to the shop, and experiencing it myself.  I'm ready to join a community, and I think this is the direction I need to head in.   

Friday, April 8, 2011

Collapsed in a Chair

I'm exhausted- it's been a busy week, as always, and my mind is still working hard thinking about all of the things I still want to do. I'm looking forward to attending a class about Goddess spirituality tomorrow, having decided that when that part of my life is missing I become very unhappy. I will let out a sigh here, resigned to the idea that I an never going to live a life of orthodox religion of any kind. I'm trying to follow both my heart and my head in this regard, and to walk a path that is meaningful to me and does not cause me to be a hypocrite. More than just about anything, I dislike hypocrisy and I have no desire to be the type of person who talks from both sides of her mouth.

On that note, I think I'm going to pull out my Gaia peice and Prismacolor away for awhile!


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Tuesday, April 5, 2011

Baal Teshuva

I found a nice story this morning at Chabad.org: 
http://www.chabad.org/theJewishWoman/article_cdo/aid/376130/jewish/The-Road-Home.htm. In this story, the author describes her journey into a more observant form of Judaism.  I like this piece because I can relate to it.  In the early days of my spiritual wanderings, up to about a month ago, actually, this is how I felt.  I treasured my Jewish roots, I enjoyed being around people who were really into their Jewish traditions and practices, who were knowledgeable with regard to Torah and Jewish studies and religious texts.  I liked the idea of keeping kosher, honoring laws of family purity, etc.  But me? I couldn't imagine doing these thing in earnest myself.  The idea of dressing modestly, observing the laws of kashrut, paying attention to Halachah (Torah law) with any real degree of seriousness frightened me.  It still does, in some ways.  The Jewish part of my family is serious about being Jewish, but answers to the Reform call.  We didn't have to worry too much about accidentally eating shrimp at a restaurant, making sure our skirts were long enough, or staving off sexual urges prior to making that monthly trip to the mikveh.  This works well for lots of people.  In lots of ways, it works well for me too.  Lately, though, there's been something missing in my spiritual life.  I've been longing for a deeper connection with spirituality, and this hunger has been leading me in different directions, guiding me in a search for something that will help me to make better sense of day to day life.  Guiding me in a search for something that will help me to better deal with day to day life. 

I've come to realize that, no matter where my searching takes me, I tend to return to Judaism when I need answers to ethical questions.  For example, after a recent altercation with a former employee of my husband, I looked to Torah study in an effort to figure out how I could have better handled my reaction to this man's drunken ignorance.  Not only did I find the answers I was seeking, but the answers made sense to me, even though everything I read on the subject told me in no uncertain terms that I'd handled the situation the wrong way.  If the words I read had been coming at me verbally from a live teacher, they would have been the equivalent of a complete dressing down, but I don't mind criticism if it's going to truly help me to grow and be a better person. In fact, Judaism tells us that the only criticism we should offer is the constructive kind.  

A baal teshuva is a person who returns to a more observant form of Judaism. It's a beautiful and scary word to me today.  Beautiful because it means connection, a deeper form of spirituality, a community of people who walk their path with God in a very real way. Scary because it means growth through change, possible alienation from people who don't understand why I would want to do such a crazy thing as following Jewish tradition a bit more seriously, sideways glances from my non-Jewish husband ("What do you mean, we can't keep ham in the refrigerator anymore?!").  I'm not ready to throw out my blue jeans, toss every non-Kosher item from the shelves in my kitchen into the trash can, or begin a scarf collection, but I am ready to make small changes slowly.  I'm a big believer that true change begins within oneself, and that the outside stuff only matters as much as it's helping to make an inside transformation.  If I wear a long skirt and three quarter sleeved shirt because, on that particular day, doing so makes me feel more connected to other Jews and to God through the performance of a mitzvah, then that's great.  If I start paying more attention to what I buy in the grocery store, being more careful to purchase items that are kosher while remaining tolerant of the fact that my husband is Cajun and loathe to give up his sausage and shrimp, then I've taken a step.  The outward choices I make help to solidify my inner convictions, but the reasons I do these things must begin with a sincere desire to connect more fully with my Judaic roots and with the belief that there really is great value and meaning in living a Jewish life.           

I know that if I keep going in this direction some people will think I've gone crazy.  But I think I've gone crazy and am now trying to bring myself toward true sanity.   

Saturday, April 2, 2011

A Little Sadness on Saturday

My husband's mother has been ill for quite some time; for the past few weeks she has been in hospice care, and over the past few days she has not been eating.  It was her desire that life not be prolonged unnaturally, she hasn't been very happy for a long time, and we knew that she most likely would not be on this side of the veil for much longer.  Still, the phone call last night, letting us know she'd passed, has knocked the wind out of me a bit.  On one hand, I'm happy that she's no longer suffering, no longer existing in a state so completely unlike the one she lived in for most of her life, confined to a special chair designed for the comfort of those who've become mostly immobile. When we visited her in the nursing home, she asked DH for a cup of coffee, and his sister advised us against giving it to her because it would've been too difficult for her to drink it and the caffeine would've had a negative effect on her system.  Even the smallest details of her life were out of her control.  I know that was not the way she wished to live and, in the absence of full recovery being possible for her, leaving this existence meant peace for her.  

I think that most of the sadness I feel comes from knowing how difficult the transition to life without his wife will be for DH's father.  They were married for many, many, many years and watching her descend into a deeper and deeper state of unwell was very difficult for him, as well as the separation they suffered because she could no longer live at home and had to be moved to a nursing home facility.  In addition to this, I'm sad beyond words that she and my daughter didn't have more time together.  I wish my daughter could have known her grandmother the way that I knew mine.  I wish she could have spent more time with her, had sleepovers with her grandparents, learned how to make cookies with them, attended movies and maybe plays, seen the way they lived their day to day lives.  I wish. I wish.  

Last night, as my husband said his prayers, I said a few of my own.  Alone in the darkness of our front steps I softly spoke the words of the Mourner's Kaddish in Hebrew.  Tradition is to say this each day for eleven months and I'm considering taking the practice up for Hub's mom, even though she wasn't Jewish.  In Jewish belief, reciting this prayer helps the soul of the deceased cross into an existence with God. I think that it also helps those left behind come to terms with the loss. There is some comfort in a belief that the prayers one is saying are having a positive effect on the loved one who has left, something good about slowly accepting the new reality of our lives without the person we loved. 

I think that I'm finally arriving at a place where I'm ready to make Judaism my spiritual practice in all things.  For so long I've been drifting, but I think that the key for me might be to understand that I'm not going to be able to adapt each and every ritual right away and get them all right all the time.  In fact, there may be some that I'll never adopt, and others which I'll integrate slowly into my life. Some might come easily, while some I might struggle with.  Being a crazy artsy tree hugging bright color wearing type of person, I'm not envisioning a life of wearing nothing but long dresses and dark stockings.  I don't think I could do that and I don't think taking up that style on a full time basis would send my husband's heart into overdrive.  I might be able to do it sometimes, though, and I am definitely interested in the idea of keeping kosher. Even more than that, I'm interested in the idea of keeping eco-kosher. 

I'm not sure if we'll be going to New Orleans for the memorial yet; my husband is considering his work schedule, the cost of airline tickets, and whether or not we can all afford to go.  He might go alone; we might all go up there together.  I want him to do what's going to be best for him in the long run.  I haven't talked with our daughter about her Grandmother's passing yet, unsure how I should approach the subject.  I know that we will talk with her about it soon, but we haven't spoken with her about it yet.  Every time I look at her and think about what this loss means for her, my heart breaks all over again. 

Oseh shalom bim'romav hu ya'aseh shalom
aleinu v'al kol Yis'ra'eil v'im'ru
Amein

Monday, March 28, 2011

I Stand Corrected!


After all of my ranting yesterday, DH returned home from the bachelor party at 8:30. The guys had agreed to go out for sushi and then called it a night. I feel a bit silly, not so much for getting upset as for not taking DH's word that they weren't heading out to look at naked women.

We live and learn!


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Sunday, March 27, 2011

Blah, Blah, Blech



I'm in a foul mood but I'm not sure exactly why. I'm a bit in a mind set of wondering what exactly it is I'm doing with my life, what I could be doing better, and where I'm right on track. I'm frustrated with a few aspects of my life, though mostly quite happy. I believe that if I'm unhappy the only person who can change my state of discontent is me. Usually inner turmoil and depression ( excluding the clinical variety) is the result of us not doing something we know we should be, and deep inside I'm pretty certain what avenues of change I need to stroll down. I'm my own worst enemy when it comes to organizing my time, staying focused and just simply doing what needs to be done.

I know that another part of my discontent tonight is due to a bachelor party the hub just rode off to attend. What is it with guys and these stupid parties, where it seems necessary to have some silly girl shaking her butt in everyone's face? He told me they were thinking about going to a pool hall instead, but since he was unwilling to tell me exactly what they were doing, I'm suspect. The thing is, why did they insist on going someplace we're all going to be upset about-why did the organizer of this party insist on going someplace he knew the bride to be would be very unhappy about? Why is getting married a sudden excuse to act like a dog? I know- I have some issues. Or maybe my evolving spiritual awareness is taking my mind to places I haven't visited in awhile, or, in some instances, ever. Maybe there are just some things I'm tired of. I hope I feel better tomorrow.



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Thursday, March 24, 2011

Old Friends and Loved Ones




I had a conversation with a close friend today regarding an old love of hers and friend of mine. This man passed just a few months ago, but his presence is still being felt in a very real way by a few people with whom he was close. I find this comforting, on some level. L wasn't sure if there was anything else "out there" before he died, and I imagine he's tickled pink to discover that he can still communicate with some of the people he cares about.

I have had quite a few paranormal experiences in my lifetime so far, most benign, a few kind of scary. Not really understanding how to use this gift for a helpful purpose can be frustrating. Had I someone with whom I could talk about what was happening, that scary part of one of my experiences could probably have been handled better. I absolutely believe that those of us who are sensitive are more likely to attract spirit activity/communication, and it's helpful to know how to handle situations involving spirits who are angry and in a place of emotional torment. As well, it's helpful to know the situation from which they came. In this instance I'd made some false assumptions and added to the element of distress. Those errors were revealed, but I still wasn't sure how to handle the fear, rage and sense of betrayal this man had felt during his last living moments. I tried my best but felt a sense of failure. In the end, one always has the option of shutting off. I found it necessary to close the lines of communication down because I was becoming too upset with what this man was telling me. Without getting into the whole story, I believe that I was contacted by the spirits of a couple who used to live across the street from our former home. The couple's lives ended in a murder/suicide, and the husband (who, it turned out, was the victim) was not at peace and wanted someone to know this. In great detail.

Lately, I've been sensing a presence in our current house. I don't have a bad feeling about it (unlike in our old place) but I don't know who it is, either. Unlike any of my previous experiences, in this instance I've been noticing soft shadows, almost more of a disturbance in the air than anything like what one would see in an actual human shadow. I get a feeling that if I only looked hard enough for long enough, I'd actually see a form materialize. I know who the home's previous owners were and have felt their energy here, but it was like the warmth of grandparents and not the least bit frightening. I don't think it's either of them who is here now. I'm not even certain that what I've felt of them here isn't just residual energy, as opposed to actual spirit manifestation. With this newest presence, I feel something different. I haven't yet decided for sure whether or not I'm okay with whoever it is hanging around.




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Wednesday, March 23, 2011

Early Morning Thought




I was tired this morning, and snuggled deep into a sea of soft covers in a warm bed, when the clock radio began sounding. Reluctantly, I dragged myself out of bed and drove to the gym for the second of my three workout days. The workout felt good, especially after I'd acheived a full state of consciousness (really- I was so tired this morning)!

Leaving the YMCA, I heard birds calling to each other. I felt like I was a part of their dance, even though I was only silently listening. As I approached my car, I thought, "Yes! This is one of the huge benefits to being awake at a terribly early hour. I get to hear the world around me awakening."




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Monday, March 21, 2011

Happy Ostara




Ostara was actually yesterday, but I thought I'd wish everyone a happy anyway, since the weekend saw me too busy to blog, or even to turn on a computer, for that matter. I created a basket yesterday for our daughter; Target is a wonderful place to find inexpensive and fun seasonal items like bubbles in carrot shaped containers and butterfly shaped sidewalk chalk. I was able to create a basket much nicer than the ones I've seen for sale already made, filled with the types of candy and items Sparkle Girl will love. When I arrived home I snuck into our back office and happily assembled it a watchful eye on the door.

The basket was a hit (yay!) and we still have eggs to color, which is a yearly tradition here in our home. I purchased a kit yesterday and stuck it into the basket, thinking it might be the easiest route to take. I'd considered using food coloring and plain old crayons for the resist designs, but this kit has stickers. What little girl doesn't love stickers? The PAAS company knows what it's doing as far as marketing.

Last night Hub and I went out and saw Red Riding Hood and it did not dissapoint. Gary Oldman is one of my favorite actors, and as I developed an intense hatred last night for the character he played in this movie, I remembered why. Amanda Siegfried was enchanting, the scenery was amazing, and the ending offered a surprising plot twist. I highly recommend seeing it. When we came out of the movie and approached the motorcycle, I noticed that my helmet was filled with tiny white flowers. We'd parked under a graceful tree of a very feminine form, and she'd showered us with beautiful spring flowers. Laughing with pleasure, I thanked her and looked up at her branches. In the softening light of early evening, bees remained hard at work collecting their daily store from her abundant blossoms. As we drove away, I reflected that when one begins to acknowlege the sacredness of nature, one will begin to see the sacred and special everywhere.




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Thursday, March 17, 2011

One More Thing




I just returned home from a spiritual group I attend each week. While the members are all Jewish, everyone bring his or her own spiritual beliefs to the proverbial table. One of our members has experienced amazing things while engaged in Native American ritual, and he believes that no matter how one connects with a higher power, it's all good as long as the path is centered on doing the right thing. Comforted by his words, I shared tonight about my own spiritual conundrum, and received some extremely helpful feedback. Maybe that message I received about not being able to follow both of my spiritual callings wasn't so much about having to abandon anything as it was about abandoning my old ideas about what spirituality means. For sure, if I'm reading Orthodox material, I'm going to be reading about more absolute ideas. Tonight, listening to one person talk about how she attends drumming circles and another talk about Native American spirituality, and someone else speak about connecting to spirit through rituals that have to do with connecting with the earth's energy, I came to understand that I'm not as alone as I thought I was. I feel much better tonight.

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Sadness

Following is a link to news of a terrible attack which occurred last Friday:

http://www.ynetnews.com/articles/0,7340,L-4041237,00.html

and another: 

http://www.aish.com/jw/me/Itamar_Massacre.html

The story concerns a family by the name of Fogel, who were brutalized in their home by terrorists who have yet to be caught.  Murdered in this shameful onslaught were the mother, father, and three children, ages eleven, four and three months old. Three months old!!! That someone could be sick and twisted enough to murder an innocent family is bad enough.  Killing children reaches far beyond sick and twisted, delving into senselessly cruel, heartless, and evil.  Not that those words don't apply to the murderer of the entire family.  I just feel like it takes a special type of evil to murder a child-what type of rationale do you suppose this person or people employed as they were stabbing the three month old baby to death? Or slicing the throat of an eleven year old? The four year old was discovered clenching his little fists; he was too young even to attempt defense of himself, and it's heartbreaking to think that a child not even old enough to understand the politics behind this horrible attack was violently taken from this world by a person arrogant and cruel enough to believe he had justification to do so.  Looking at a picture of the family's house, I can imagine all of the daily goings on that might have taken place there each day: hurried breakfasts before school, lively Shabbat celebrations, laughter between husband and wife at those little jokes spouses share only with one another, happy days and bad days.  I imagine homework at the kitchen table and the camaraderie of a large family (I, too, come from a family of six children).  Now, there's a gaping hole in the fabric of life, with the three surviving children left to cope with what has happened and with the issue of the blind hatred behind it. 

I want to hate the people behind this attack.  But I know, deep down, that this is not the answer.  A good friend of mine advises that the only road to victory over the people who perpetrate hatred crimes such as this is living a fully Jewish life.  Hating these people will only foster a deeper hatred within me, which will eventually grow and poison my soul, providing no constructive outlet.  Practicing the joy and love that comes with Judaism, studying Torah, proving to the people who hate us that we're not going anywhere, passing the faith down to my daughter, learning about and living by the laws of Halakha, are constructive ways of dealing with the pain and sorrow I feel every time I read about this horrific event.  It won't make the horror disappear, but it might make a difference.

Streams of water can't put out love, 
Nor can rivers sweep it away.
Song of Songs 8:7

Tuesday, March 15, 2011

A Sleepy Tuesday Afternoon



 It's almost 6:00 p.m., but I feel a sense of accomplishment, having completed the many tasks I needed to see finished today and just wrapping up the rest of our business work.  About an hour ago, I was experiencing a feeling of great stress but now, as dinner looms on the horizon, most of that has left and I'm looking forward to sitting at the table with my family and winding the day down.  At 4:00 I drove little one over to the local YMCA to attend her ballet class, only to discover that it had been canceled due to spring break.  No one informed us of this earlier, and, being out of the public educational system loop, it had not occurred to me that extracurricular programs wouldn't be taking place this week.  Next week we'll take our spring break, since our neighbors will be off next week as well and I'd like for the kids to be able to hang out.  Not only that, but it's nice to have an excuse for coffee time with the neighbor. The break will be a welcome respite for the kiddo and me both; we've worked hard this year and as summer stands poised just a few months away, some days my daughter tires of school work earlier than usual.  I find myself having to push a little more many days now, urging her forward and exercising lots and lots of patience when the day isn't going along as smoothly as would be comfortable.  I'm still very grateful that we are having the opportunity to home school, though.  I never have any regrets about doing so, even when I'm tired and cranky and unsure of how to keep a six year old excited through math lessons.  Or myself, for that matter (bad Mommy!).

As far as spiritual matters, I'm confused today as always.  Some days I feel these moments of clarity, but they don't always point me in the same direction and I wonder sometimes how much of this religious stuff is made up by human beings in an effort to explain our world and offer guidance to the stumbling masses.  I'm not at all implying that it's bad, but what I am saying is that I sometimes wonder if our choice of religion isn't more a matter of following the path that feels like home to us than a matter of some absolute truth.

Something to ponder on a Tuesday afternoon.  

 

Sunday, March 13, 2011

Questions and Answers








About a month ago, I attended a very powerful Goddess circle. Many of the women in attendance are well learned women, having studied and practiced their spiritual path for many years. The atmosphere as we sat outside under the moonlight was both serious and warm. As the fire in the middle of our circle of women curled it's orange and red hued flames upward into the night, we all closed our eyes and quieted our minds for a guided meditation.

I have, on a few blessed occasions during meditation, felt myself truly connected to the One of Holy Name. I have received messages while in this silent state of being that proved to be right on track; words of advice that, when heeded, have helped me tremendously toward a successful outcome during times of chrisis or emotional upheaval (or both). On this night, as I focused, eyes closed, on the third eye chakra, I heard a voice, gentle and soft but unmistakable. It was a voice that spoke to me through the reaches of my soul, and it told me that I would not indefinitely be able to walk both of the paths of spirituality that I've been trying to straddle. I breathed deeply, somewhat alarmed by this admonition of sorts. For years I've been attempting to do just this, unwilling to completely give up Judaism but equally unwilling to stop practicing elements of a Pagan lifestyle. I've told myself that I could do both, that paths to G-d were paths to G-d, all equal and recognized. As I've talked myself into this idea, I've encountered moments which seemed to contradict it, but I've forged ahead, unable to reconcile conflicting truths but not ready to face the fact that Judaism and Pagan beliefs do not really mesh well. The voice I heard in the dark that night came in a moment of unguarded quiet, and it seemed relevant to me. Try as I might, I found myself unable to dismiss it over the days that followed.

About three weeks after the Circle and this eye opening but spiritually troubling revelation, I found myself in the Hollywood Public Library. I'd visited there to pick up a book containing a collection on paranormal mysteries which I'd placed on hold earlier in the week. After locating said book on the hold shelf, I wandered across the library to browse (in spite of the promise I'd made to myself to borrow only one book-I don't have an abundance of time for reading these days). Sifting through various biographies and other books, I came upon Herman Wouk's "The Will to Live On- This is Our Heritage". Years ago, I'd read his book "This is My God" and enjoyed it. I love his writing style and had found this book to be informative as I'd plumbed the depths of my Jewish heritage. I believe this book helped spark a love affair with Judaism for me; after reading it I began reading books upon books on everything from Orthodox belief to Hasidic teachings to Reform belief. I have been unable to put "The Will..." down, so much has it been revealing answers to me that I very much need at this point in time. I will add here that a few days before I found this book, I posed yet another request to G-d, advising that if I could find our mezzuzah (missing since our move three years ago) that would be proof enough that I was supposed to be following a Jewish path. As I posed this request I knew I would not receive an answer in this way; G-d doesn't always operate along our guidelines and is not there to perform tricks for us. Still, an answer did come. As is often the case, my eyes needed to be open to the response in whatever form it was to be delivered in.

In this book, Mr. Wouk, a learned scholar, accomplished writer and devout Jew, talks about our Jewish history, as well as our place in the world- where we've been and where we might be headed. This morning as I was reading the book alongside a stack of chocolate chip pancakes, I came across a passage which really hit home. The author talks about a period in his life when he was living a fairly carefree lifestyle, studying the atheistic words of Nietzsche, the ideas of Immanuel Kant, and writing comedy routines for radio shows. He was also studying Talmud with his grandfather, practicing Judaism, and balancing both sides of his life with a reasonable amount of success. He writes that he "did not anticipate that the parallel lines would ever meet in a wild shower of conscience", that these two lifestyles ran "along parellel tracks in" his mind. He says that the inconsistencies and contradictions between them didn't bother him too much at the time. I can relate to this. The problem (?) is that now, as happened to Mr. Wouk, I find myself in a hailstorm of sparks, such that the contradictions can no longer be ignored, the inconsistencies no longer stuffed into a box and squirreled away into a darkened corner of my mind for future analysis.

And so the beginnings of answers come, not always the way we'd like them to, in small, pretty packages, but instead in complicated, tangled bundles. I look forward to slowly unravelling this one, sure that more surprises and revelations lie ahead.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPhone

Friday, March 11, 2011

A Blessing After Disaster

I had some thoughts with regard to what I wanted to blog about today, but, in light of the tsunami which occurred in Japan today, and in honor of all of those who have been lost to this tragedy, as well as the survivors left behind to cope, I offer this instead: 


A Prayer
Mi sheberakh avoteinu mekor habrakha l’imoteinu
May the Source of strength
Who blessed the ones before us
Help us find the courage
To make our lives a blessing,
And let us say: Amen.
Mi sheberakh imoteinu mekor habrakha l’avoteinu
Bless those in need of healing With refuah shleima:
The renewal of body,
The renewal of spirit,
And let us say: Amen


 This is usually a prayer said for the sick; at our synagogue it is sung toward the end of the service, after the Rabbi asks people to call out the names of loved ones who are ill, and it is a truly beautiful blessing. 


Here's another prayer which I located at Ask.com: 


In this time of darkness, let us serve as the light
That brings comfort and strength, hope and redemption.

It is our hands that move stones
And our hearts that move mountains
Sowing the seeds
Of unbroken tomorrows.

If you offer your compassion to the hungry
And satisfy the famished creature
Then shall your light
Shine in darkness
And your gloom
Shall be like noonday

Isaiah 58:10


And one more:

"Blessed are You, G-d, the True Judge." - traditional prayer said after a tragedy.

I find that no words seem to be enough; nothing bespeaks the pain of an event such as this.  Maybe, as the day goes along, you will find prayers of your own to say.  And as we all lift up our voices (whether silently or aloud) the healing can begin. 



Thursday, March 10, 2011

Rainy Afternoon


Today was supposed to be nature class day for my little one, but the weather had different ideas. At 12:30pm the clouds which had been threatening rain gathered in earnest, darkening the sky and, finally, unleashing their fury. No mere shower, this was a serious rainstorm, with big gloppy raindrops spattering the driveway and the lake behind our house, blowing sideways in the wind, tapping on our windows as if demanding entry. Shortly after the rain began, thunder followed, loud claps of thunder followed by flashes of lightning to rival the paparazzi at an Academy Awards ceremony. Now, an hour later, it's quiet outside. A few grey clouds hang over the house, and droplets of rain sparkle on our window screens, but the storm has passed, at least for now. My daughter's class was scheduled for 1:00pm; it's 1:19 now, and we probably could have gone, but the teacher canceled, siting that most of the people signed up didn't want to drive in torrential downpours to get to the park. I understand, as I drive a small Kia which was born in 2002, who dislikes stopping on rain slicked streets and needs a front end alignment (not fun to drive in windy conditions).

Given that I had a few unexpected minutes semi-free (are we ever really subject to "free" moments when mothering small children? I feel slightly guilty sitting at my computer!), I decided to create this blog, a place to muse about the larger events taking place in the world, the events taking place in my own life, and navigating life while straddling the seemingly impossible worlds of three different religions. My hope is that I will find here a place to connect with others traveling their own spiritual paths, to get to the bottom of what it is exactly that I believe in, what nourishes my soul. I am Jewish by defined religion, married to a Catholic man. Over the years, I've also wandered around the hallowed halls of Christianity (but found it was not for me), enjoy meditation, and attend Goddess gatherings. I am always called back to Judaism in some way, though, unwilling to cast it aside and dive completely into a new ocean of belief. Many people don't understand how rich a religion Judaism is; I, myself, wasn't aware of how complex a spiritual path it was until I began reading and reading and reading more about the old Chasidic masters, about the Zohar, about Torah and all of the different ideas that spring forth from the myriad of translations in existence with regard to the sacred texts.

I once read that a person with a Jewish soul will always feel a longing deep within to return to his or her Jewish religion. This is because, it is said, people with a Jewish soul (even people who have converted, since it is believed that the soul of a convert has been reborn and, as such, is a newly born Jewish soul regardless of one's previous affiliation) were actually present at Sinai when the covenant was formed between G-d and the Jewish people. We know deep within our souls that the covenant exists and that it is something wonderful, not to be cast aside. We yearn for that connection. Maybe that's why I keep going back-I'm not sure. Over the past few months, I've pretty much thought about myself as a Universalist, and I don't plan on looking down my nose at anyone for their personal spiritual beliefs (or lack thereof) because I feel that there are many paths down which one can travel to make a connection with the One of Blessing. But, I'm open to learning more, to finding the value in this way of life, to figuring out what it is I really believe deep within, and, hopefully, to having fun along the way.