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.

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.

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.   

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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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.   

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