Kabbalah: 40 Up

I am presently house and pet sitting. The homeowners have an awesomely large Sony tv screen so I am trying to take full advantage of it.

I recently took out 42 Up from the local library. It is premised upon the Jesuit theory: "Give me a the child until he is 7, and I will show you the man". Is it true then, as Wordsworth and Gerard Manley Hopkins have posited, that the "child is father to the man" [or mother to the woman]?

There was a "7 Up", every 7 years, right till 42. In watching this British documentary I think I must have missed 35, or maybe not. The most striking fact about watching these people I have come to feel for, is that at 42 they have become human.

At 42, what is so outstanding is the richness and depth of their experience. Several have lost their parent/s. Several were divorced. Some have never deviated from the original conformist path, a narrow vision, and it shows in their lack of insight. Not that this is a bad thing, but just not that interesting. What is most striking about almost all of them is their deep honesty and raw humanity. Until 42 they seemed like ciphers, living programmed lives. Eventually time and life temper them.

I was quite surprised by that- how they came into themselves, became soft, accessible, wise, a Lech Lecha (go to yourself) kinda deal. Their true natures triumph, and largely that triumph is in terms of human dignity and strength. Some things they never imagined happening, did. The most lost (and mad) soul finally finds a place, and friendship; that made me weep. Family is central, and the source of redemption, for many.

It is a law that Kabbalah can only be taught to a worthy student. More importantly, I think, is that one needs to reach an age of humanity in order to study the heavens. I used to joke with my friends that a man did not become truly human until he reached 40. I still stand by that. Actually, I don't think anyone does until then. I think the Sages were so wise in issuing that edict [past 40 and married, also goes for women, in my opinion], that to study Kabbalah one must have reached "the age of understanding".

BTW, my first wish as a babe, was to be a nun; ironically, it came true, in a way. What was your desire, as a child?

Strangers in the Night: The Lady and the Tutor

A day before the beginning of Elul, I think I must inhabit an alternate universe. In that universe, I am constantly befuddled. I'm thinking that I should title my blog, Barefoot Clueless Jewish Convert Wading Cluelessly Through a Sea of Torah and a Swamp of Jews. In that universe, G-d's mercy rains down on all of us. In which no one feels alone. Left out. Judged mercilessly. The influx of light is palpable. All of G-d's warmth and fondness for us all encompasses everything. Even when the world has not yet reached the zenith of all hope, the Messianic age, where "the world will be filled with the knowledge of G-d as the water covers the sea" (Isaiah 11:9).

There is something to be said for the Lubavitch view of our times as a massive darkening - like a black hole, a precursor to the coming of the Messiah. Perhaps it is comparable to the plague of thick, impenetrable darkness that befell Egypt. The world does seem topsy turvy. Yet, what is valued of that darkness is so transparently empty; that is the difference between then and now- the darkness is transparent.

I sometimes wonder, am I trapped in some self-perpetuating darkness that I do not see? Is that why things seem not to work for me? That life seems so astoundingly painful among my fellow Jews right now? Geez, I am so new at this! My Old Rabbi (MOR) used to comment that my expectations of Jews were too high. And I would counter, that we received the Torah, so, I do have higher expectations. Especially for people involved to some degree in synagogue life. If not now, when??

This is what I expect: that when I attend services and schmooze afterwards, that I will feel at home, just a little. I certainly am willing to put myself out there, and do, all the time. This comes from my sojourn spent in my old synagogue, where as a committee chair, I learned to let go of my shyness and natural reticence and reach out to others. When you have a passionate cause or a love for something, it is easier to move forward and think about the other and not yourself, to get past the discomfort and squirmy feeling. I, Jewess Candide, wanted everyone to feel welcome and I used to work the crowd after services. MOR used to introduce all the potential converts to me. I very much felt that if I was gonna kvetch about things, that it behooved me to change them. And I worked to change them and I think that this is the only way- to add something, to bring something of yourself. To see, and fill a need. Everyone can do this, for everyone has something to offer. Besides, there is no other way.

But it has been so different at the current synagogue. I am going to steal a page here from Naomi of Baraita , who calls her shul, "Temple Boondoggle", and call the current shul I attend ( it is not 'mine') which I describe as Temple of Judaism Lite, Temple Om Hadash. I have met people at home with G-d who daven their hearts out. Who love a niggun. Who haven't met a Native American niggun they didn't like. Who do talk about G-d and middot and how it is important to change ourselves in order to change the world. A small few who lead services. All of whom seem to not have a clue as to how to interact with others, largely because there is no one to teach them how to reach out. All the older folk have split off. And the one older person who heads the new Chesed (deeds of lovingkindness) committee, told me when I phoned him to offer my services, that they weren't set up and weren't prepared yet so I was phoning at an inopportune time.

This post is a screed, much needed, because I feel so frustrated and let down. I have been attending Temple Om Hadash for 8 months now, because I have nowhere else to go. In all that time, there is nothing there that draws my heart and interest. It's like a series of fantastical disappointments and abortive attempts, and it never seems to come together. It just gets more and more absurd. My experience is further compounded by the fact that in this city I am friendless and without family. And this is where I left my marriage. You can't get more alone than this. Oh yeah, I forgot, I rent a room from Staccato Landlady and the following is the latest incident. I suppose if anyone is in need of friendship and felicity and a helping hand, it is me. I am not destitute, but, emotionally, I am dreaming of Richard Gere these days..... who wears a coat heavy with matter.

This is an email (modified) I sent to my closest (and non-Jewish) friend:

Services were bearable even with the bat mitzvah. I was feeling pretty fine till the spread afterwards. The food was a groaning board of fabuloso. I was pleased.

I sat down with Staccato Landlady's 12 year old son and his bud. Lots of places to sit. Then the Kid's Tutor came along. This guy has seen me around . He knows who I am. He has come to the house where I live. We have been introduced. He sat down across from me beside the bud, totally not meeting my eyes, and ignoring me. This is not the first time he has done this. Even if he is shy, how much effort does it take to say 'hello', at least, or to wish someone a 'shabbat shalom'? He talked to the kids as if he were in a bubble and I was on the outside, somewhere in the ether. I felt deeply offended. I would not be offended by a stranger. He has met me. And it is hard to offend me deeply these days.

Then Staccato Landlady comes along and sits beside the Tutor. So there are the 4 of them clumped together and me with empty seats on either side of me. I felt humiliated, embarrassed and exposed. They spent the entire meal talking amongst themselves and completely ignoring me, not out of hostility per se, but out of habit, out of indifference. This is not old wounds on my part either. It was as if I did not exist. There wasn't even any eye contact. How would you feel?

So the food turned to sawdust. Gradually my delight disappeared. Some things are unforgivable and to me that was it. I've had it with Staccato Landlady and her whining spoiled brat of a Kid who always wants to leave while I'm still eating and whines and cries and bugs as if I did not exist. I blame it on her who should give him a good smack. And I so hate leaving before the blessings after the meal.

I managed to retain my poise thruout until the whiny Kid got his mom to leave. On the way out an Older Gentleman I know was there and asked how I was. He is such a dear. Aw geeze, my face began to crumple and he had hold of my hand and he would not let it go and he kept bugging me and so I said, "I was sitting at a table and got completely ignored....." He was going to rationalise it, I knew, put a good spin on it and then I said, ..."and these were people I know".... He was so compassionate. At that moment his Daughter came along, and her Hubby, and Older Gentleman told them. And then she was holding my other hand and Hubby was hovering and I felt surrounded by all this concern and compassion and they all looked so distressed for me and Daughter said, "you should come and sit with us" and I said "next time I will" and I will I will I will! Of course I was crying a little which I didn't want to do.

Then they asked if they could give me a ride and I said.... and Hubby said, "her ride's here" cause they saw Staccato Landlady and the Kid. I went with them. She asked me what was wrong and was all concerned, and I didn't say anything, And then out the door she asked, "is it me"?.... And I hesitated for the longest time.....and finally said, "no". I don't think she believed me but I don't care. I feel a lot of pain about this.......and discomfort. I know what Staccato Landlady is like, and the Tutor, and basically these are people I don't want to be around, I have nothing against them....Well okay the Tutor, cause his totally bad manners, if nothing else, are unconscionable and he's the one teaching the kids!

I composed myself and chit chatted on the way home and went upstairs. Then she comes knocking on my door, saying when I'm ready to talk or want to talk ... not now she said, tho I thought it was cause she could see I was upset, it was because the Kid wanted to be driven to play baskeball somewhere. And I said, " Yeah, not now, I can't talk now.......and I think she was surprised by the depth of my feeling.

The irony is that the rabbi and the congregation were discussing how giving was so important, anticipating the needs of another were so important. This is something he is always talking about- how we need to connect with others. And yet the simple act of involving me in the circle seemed beyond the awareness of the lady and the tutor. So, how much at Temple Om Hadash is being absorbed? And what do I do now?

Sometimes I think you just need to cut your losses and get out and move on. I plan on sitting with others the next time. I am at the moment very much aware that I am a convert, single, without friends or family in this city. I am what the Torah speaks about- the stranger, the widow, the orphan. It is not dramatic. It is not totally accurate nor necessarily noticeable. But my situation right now represents the essence of the stranger, widow, and orphan in the Torah. Sometimes the darkness is so palpable and so transparent.

I ended my note with the following:

.... I think Staccato Landlady is a good person, just lacking in intimacy skills.

Love,
Barefoot- food sitting in my stomach like rocks now and my Shabbat ruined

Except for my memory of those 3 angels who surrounded me. And I felt love, lovingkindness and G-d's Presence and was shown once again what Judaism is all about. I want to hang out with them!

I plan on it.

--

Update: An epiphany. I' suddenly realise that it was all in the choices I made. I need to increase my radar about what will be beneficial and what will make things more miserable. And stay away from rigid, unchanging characters. Particularly at this juncture in my life, I need to seek out those whose company is healing, not adding to hurts. This last experience has really shaken me. I guess it was the wakeup call I needed.

The Word Jews Dare Not Utter

Jews rarely talk about G-d and I wish we did more of it. At services this Shabbat, I marvelled at the liturgy once again, how infused it was with G-dspeak - it is not just a paean to G-d but a meditation on G-d's nature and G-d's deeds. It brings up all those questions that we could wrestle with about our real place in the universe, vis-à-vis, G-d, and His place with us.

In 3 hours' worth of liturgy it's all G-d. Our every concern, every emotion, is validated and sanctified in addressing Him. Practically every line addresses G-d. G-d G-d G-d. It is G-d as Redeemer, Slayer, Judge, Lover, Counsellor, Father, King, Lord, Creator of Fantastical Histories and Characters, Creator of the Glories of the Cosmos, and on and on . Consider the paragraph before the K'riat Sh'ma in the morning service: I still get a thrill when G-d, My Hero, is described as "being unique, doing mighty deeds, creating new life, championing justice, sowing rightousness, reaping victory, bringing healing" (Siddur Sim Shalom). I imagine G-d as Champion, swashbuckling His way through history. Of course, someone else might imagine G-d as Baseball Commissioner.

I would like to believe that G-d will once again do all the things He did in the Bible, in a spectacular way. More likely, it will be in small, quiet ways. Someone once said, we read the liturgy not as a profession of belief but so that we might someday believe, a statement most hopeful. And though that might be the intent of liturgy, frankly, it sounds like cold comfort over time. Oh yeah, G-d is real and I do believe. And all liturgical prayer gives me something I need desperately at time- all kinds of hope.

So I am mystified that though the liturgy encompasses the gamut of Jewish belief about G-d, that is, Jewish faith , we so rarely talk about it amongst ourselves. I know that deeds matter far more than faith, but it seems to me that Jewish faith and the experience of G-d are treated rather like a mongrel, with a right to life but not to love. I sometimes get the distinct feeling that either people do not believe or believe little or have never thought much about what they believe. What do Jews individually believe, anyway? Yes, we can perform deeds even if we are faithless, but it seems rather barren and not in the spirit of covenant. There's more to a covenant than doing and obeying. It's not just a contract.

In prayer we are praising the Biblical, historical, transcendent, immanent and immediate, G-d, and having done our 'duty', we walk out the door into what kind of life? A faithless one? That tidal wash of words, of thoughts and feelings, remind me of the Root and Source of all things, of why I do the things I do, of why I am here. But they also inherently assume a relationship with G-d. G-d is not simply out there. We can draw near to G-d and bring G-d to us when we struggle to limn our beliefs; like blind people, we reach out to feel and trace their shape and form and why it matters . G-d cannot simply be a transcendent Being, out there, untouchable, unreachable, for any Jew, because we share that covenant with G-d, which means that both covenanters are active in a relationship and accountable to each other. It's not just about the covenant, either- it's about G-d, too. It is not just about rules- we have a stake and a share in His dreams.

I know that Christianity seems to have cornered the market on G-d discussions and faith, since, as I understand it, you only need faith to be redeemed. Perhaps avoiding such discussion keeps Jews from sounding (G-d forbid) like Christians! I largely meet Jews who know halacha and not G-d, who know about Torah and observance, but when I mention G-d they smile and shift uncomfortably, don't have much to say. I don't know how one keeps going without connecting with G-d. I don't know what sustains others. Oh, don't tell me that our relationship with G-d is personal and private either because that suspiciously sounds like a Christian god; I am talking about G-d as we Jews relate to Him, knowing what we know about Torah and mitzvot and prayer and life.

I have a friend who is not certain that we have immortal souls. I have another who is not certain there is life after death. I know someone who davens fairly regularly at minyan, and she said that she did not pray to relate to G-d but she felt better after davenning. Huh? And this woman lost her son (may his memory be a blessing) to brain cancer in his 30's. All of these women are fabulous Jewesses, real mensches, walk the talk. In the face of uncertain belief, they remain stalwart in their practice. I get it but I don't get it. Yet, I found them even more admirable because of that fact. It's like atheists who make the world a better place, depending totally on themselves to do it, without promise of future anything.

What we believe defines our relationship to everything- to G-d, to the world, to the future, to each other. It also defines the person. To try to understand the cosmic significance of things is not to dabble in esoterica- it completes one. Yes, to know there is a soul and afterlife does not bring reassurance to our present lives or necessarily transform them. Nor is it required for Jewish practice. But how much more diminished or perhaps impoverished does our practice become over time, if G-d, and questions about G-d, do not engage us? It is wrestling with the questions that enriches our experience, and gives us the possibility of that relationship. Expressing praise or supplication, if you don't believe in something, or long for something, if it doesn't come from the heart, seems an empty exercise.

If we are uncomfortable or fear talking about G-d, and only practice matters, then, why do we bother to pray? Why is the liturgy so rich in expression? Is it just a cover for the impossible?

I've been thinking recently about Reconstructionism and the idea that Judaism is an historic and ongoing creation of the Jewish people in their search for meaning and sacred living, rather than founded upon Divine Revelation. This would make the "G-d'" of the Jews, also a creation of imagination and inspiration. Perhaps Reconstructionsim is the end result of an inability to experience G-d as very real. Some Jews have created a 'religious civilisation' with a god, but not the G-d. It follows that in a world dominated by reason it is the only reasonable conclusion, for one real G-d seems an impossibility, almost an absurdity.

What if, then, it is possible, over millennia, for a religious nation/community based on Revelation to evolve into a kind of religious civilisation, because G-d has left the building? We read about G-d's gradual withdrawal from the sanctuary until only the Shechina lingers, like a wraith, following us forlornly yet loyally from oasis to oasis in our nomadic wanderings. How sad that is. What if even the Shechina (feminine aspect of G-d, indwelling Presence) is largely no longer welcome, a stranger in her own home, because nobody really believes in her? And without belief of some sort, one cannot ultimately know her.

I recently happened, in my net reading, upon the story of a young woman called Lauren Winner, who has become quite famous/infamous by converting to Orthodox Judaism and then a scant few years later, to Christianity. My first thought was that she is a dilettante and will move on once again when a religion doesn't satisfy her. Sounds more like my own fears actually, than anything to do with her- I hear my parents' voices. One of the reasons she turned to Christianity was because she felt that her Judaism did not focus on a relationship with G-d:

I hesitate to say those things because the Jews with whom I have had the privilege to pray, study, sing, and eat are among the most loving and insightful people I know, and they have taught me almost everything important that I know about God. Not the Jesus part, no, but there is a lot about God you can learn before you learn about his son. I learned about God as creator, forgiver, lover, father, mother, quiet in-dwelling presence, and judge. There was one thing I did not learn: how to have an intimate relationship with Him.

My reading however, of this and other statements is that it was not Judaism that failed her, but Jews. She was treated differently by her community, snubbed often as a convert. Her boyfriend said he would have to look for someone born Jewish to marry. Gossip was spread about her, that she only converted in order to wed. When asking about more personal prayer, she was exhorted to follow the liturgy strictly. She became disaffected, as many born Jews are. Now she is a Christian. She needed Jesus for that feeling of intimacy. She needed Jesus also because she lacked intimacy with the community.

It has long been my view that Jesus, whoever he was, was needed as an embodied image of G-d for those who could not relate to G-d himself. Even though the stories in the Torah shout out how intimate the relationships with G-d were. And I don't for one second believe that we are so far from Sinai that we have grown in ignorance and have to struggle harder with each successive generation. Even the Torah proves it, because one of its subtexts delineates a spiritual evolution, and the increasing intimacy between G-d and humans, a true Biblical "knowing". Even as material darkness is strangling us, the strength of Torah light shines brighter, burns more deeply as seekers struggle to find and know G-d. That it has not come to fruition is a failure on the part of those of us who should know better. I don't blame Lauren Winner. I blame those who should have advised her and shown her ways to know G-d.

Why do we not talk about G-d? Why do we frown upon intimacy with Him? It is our legacy. It is where it all began.

--

Ugh, I feel as if I have been rambling. I wish I were raising tomatoes as I used to. I enjoy reading J-blogs by tomato raisers. I wonder what kind of tomatoes are grown in Israel. At one time, I used to pore over the spring catalogues and agonise over choosing my seeds. I would have 7 varieties every year- 5 stalwarts and 2 new, usually exotic, varieties. About 20-22 bushes in all. One lb. heirloom tomatoes at one time. Small black tomatoes from Russia. Brandywines- Amish, I believe. Well, I can't speak of that any longer, but I do eat tomatoes. I had one yesterday and I will have one today. Fresh, and local. From the soil, not a hothouse.

Out of the Mud

Sometimes, there are these pure moments during davenning, when suddenly I awaken and the world and all its voices and illusion slip gracefully away. And I know why I am a Jewess. I was created for the ideal; it is my love of G-d and Torah that drives me. I know who I am.

When things get muddy, when things go wrong, and the world disappoints, especially when my fellow Jews disappoint, I need to remember.

In such a moment everything becomes simple.

I understand.

I know.

I am in touch with the Source of everything- and there, I am welcome. All of me is welcome, who I am, totally, every part of me, down to my DNA and sub-atomic particles , every thought and feeling.

I am.

it is beyond joy or delight

I welcome those moments, when everything softly falls away, like grains of sand. It is like being relieved of a heavy cloak grounded in matter and mud. Pure being.

I know I know I know!

I know why I was created. Not as a Jewess, or as a human being, but why I personally, was created. It is an answer, something which sustains me when I forget or memory fades. It is so pure. I was created to be a Jew.

This is what I was made for!
This is what I live for
This is what I am willing to die for

Sweet sweet being sweet sweet prayer. I become prayer. Entirely and wholly in the stillness I come to rest. In the light and presence of G-d. While my being listens and sings in harmony, I am I am I Am Kadosh KadoshKadoshAdonaitzeva'otm'lokholha-aretzk'vodo....

~~~~~~~

On rare occasions, I have felt surprisingly known by G-d. But that's a whole other story! The experience astounded me the first time. I had no idea it was possible. I marvel at it.

I find it difficult to daven alone. My most intense experiences of G-d's Presence occur with others. Funnily, that also drives me towards Jews, towards community and minyanim, and all services. G-d created me for this purpose. Among others. G-d and His Torah are beyond genius. And He knows me way better than I know myself and what I need and what motivates me. Cool!

I need to pray because most of the time, I feel very much like David, who in great distress, said to the prophet, Gad, "Let us fall into the hands of the Lord, for great is His compassion. Let me not fall into the hands of mortals". G-d knows what I need to sustain me to keep me on the path of living Jewishly, sacredly. It gets to be a dirty business, sometimes, embedded in worldly matter, raising sparks, brawling with J-bloggers (heh).

The moments when I transition from mudperson to pure being without leaving my body give me purpose and sustain me. I understand completely why I am here. Without that connection I would feel beleaguered and lost; I consider it G-d's gift to me, when He shines His countenance fully upon me and grants me favour. And prayer, in every way, keeps me focussed and strong. As do my fellow Jews, especially my fellow Jews, when we pray together. There truly is comfort and strength in praying numbers, where G-d's Presence is magnified . And in knowing and in being known, so intimately. I am grateful to every soul who completes a minyan. Take it from me: I couldn't do it without you. And, I imagine, neither could G-d.

Jewess' Confidential

*Comments Updated* Sept 15

Passionate Life has posted an article on his blog entitled Feminist Turned Frum Reveals She's Never Felt More Free! which has inspired the following and is not directly aimed at him.

I have no problem with this woman's choices. I envy her the comfort that that choice brings. I wonder what the point of the post was, though. Like, does this mean that it was a confession, that she has divested herself of her sins and seen the light? Or that Torah has won, being all powerful? Is there something about feminists per se that makes them a desirable target for 'conversion'? Like, it's 'one' for the 'other side'?

I am weary of the whole feminism issue. Does thinking for yourself necessarily equate with some ideology? I don't think so, but it seems to make it easier for others just to stamp us thinking women with a handy label. In my opinion, targetting any woman who argues and lives away from the mainstream, with a label, is pretty mainstream and does not take a whole lot of thought.

Speaking of the concept of 'frum', is that an ideology as well? I am reminded of the time when I was davenning with the Minyanaires and the gabbai challenged my not wearing a kippah along with tallit and tefillin; he said that if I wished to be "like a man", then I should do it all the way. Well, of course,in knee-jerk reaction, I bristled at this unimaginative but predictable view. Thankfully, MOR, being Mara d'Atra, educated us. It turns out that Jewish men did not wear a kippah as a matter of course. And in fact, for a while, in the Middle Ages they wore what now are commonly known as dunce caps. The Torah never makes a mention of wearing a kippah, not once. he ruled that I did not have to wear a kippah; if he had ruled otherwise, surprisingly to me, I would have abided by it.

Somehow the notion of modesty came up. My argument, knowing full well that wearing a kippah was not mentioned in the Torah, was that I was modest enough. Hello? I show up regularly at morning minyan, and I am not wearing shorts like the guys and my shoulders are covered and I tend to wear long dresses/skirts in the heat; more importantly I don't showboat during services (as if most women do-- NOT). Yet, I don't wear a kippah with my tefillin because to me it is overkill and I know I can do this- the tefillin headpiece feels like a coronet to me; it imparts dignity, and there is no law to stop me. But, hey, incite minhag as halacha to burst my bubble as if I had no clue about what halacha says. And hey, cite modesty, since that seems to inform most rule-oriented males, when it comes to women. I am still waiting for something rather more original....

You know what? I am willing to act in a way contrary to halacha when it makes no sense to me and, in deed, does not contravene Torah. Sue me. Or label me Reform. I have often adored the simple modesty of Torah prescriptions, and I would love a life where true modesty for both women and men lives and is not attached to fears and prejudices and judgments masquerading as Torah.

I could present myself as 'frum' very easily. But the reality is that a thinking woman has choice, which makes her neither frum or liberal or 'feminist'. She lives Torah as she believes. And it is a passionate belief. She has desire.

To reduce her decisions to ideology or custom is diminishing and lazy and offensive.

If I were looking for someone to connect with, I would be looking for the desire. It may be desire for custom or ideology in some, or it may be a desire and passion for Judaism, and growth and climbing the ladder of possibility that G-d has so kindly granted us, and for which I live. Just don't do the feminist label thing if it honestly does not apply. And if it does, I leave you with a challenge- how are you going to embrace it, Jewishly? Find a way.

Mitzvah Madness: Need a Straitjacket

I am returning to the land of the living after moving, and spending these last hectic days painting rooms. The move has been exceedingly stressful. The first night, I cried buckets out of a terrible loneliness, and I hope that G-d is counting my tears. The only change worthwhile, I think, is a change you look forward to. So often, it seems that change is less than welcome. What tender creatures we are.

This was not one of those thrilling changes, though it has turned out to possess some small positives, like being able to do my marketing every day without benefit of bus fare. Instead of clambering aboard the 210, I walk past the electrical substation, which is literally in my backyard, along a wild, barbed path of bushes weighted down by fat blackberries, transformers crackling overhead, cross a haphazardly busy street, into the welcoming shade of a stand of aromatic, tall trees swathed in evergreen.

As I traverse the path, I wonder, each time, how things grow, whether they grow differently, in the shadow of electromagnetic radiation. The incidence of malignancy is statistically signficant for this kind of environment. Some transformations are transmogrifications, while life on the surface, seems so normal. The flowers blooming amidst the cracks in the concrete, bloom carrying secrets. Yet, along this path, the light is soft and gentle. These are the golden days of summer.

My old rabbi (MOR), who, in effect, is the only one I would call 'mine' so far, loves words, linguistics, and plays on words, no matter how great a groaner it turns out to be (and there have been many). Biblical Hebrew, thusly, is not just another language to him. When you couple that with the fact that he is also a person of great integrity and intellectual honesty, when he talks about words in the Torah, it's a guarantee that it is worth paying attention.

MOR's love of wordplay has wrought the title of Mincha Madness, which welcomes any member of the shul to join in a monthly Shabbat gathering at various homes, davenning Mincha, then partaking in Seudah Shlishit, that is, the third Shabbos meal, shmoozing, and Havdalah, always a graceful and poignant service for me.

I used to complain to MOR that it should be called Mincha Mellowness, which, I think, captures the essence of that time more accurately. But there was no budging him (like most of us he has selective hearing). And so, Mincha on Shabbat somehow remains 'mad' in its conceptualisation, though I am not certain in which ways it is 'mad' in its execution- an online thesaurus suggests the following: desperation, euphoria, folly, frenzy, furor, hysteria, nonsense, lunacy (perhaps on Rosh Hodesh), well, you get the picture. I should throw the dictionary at him. The events that I have attended have been sadly disappointing in terms of 'insanity', but wholly warming and satisfying in terms of heart and soul. It's as if one becomes replete and complete, ready to tackle the coming days of the week, (and, in my case, damned sad to let go of Shabbat).

There is madness to my method here, because for the last several weeks I have been pondering the idea of chesed and what constitutes a perfect mitzvah, or even more significantly, a mitzvah, alone. I actually have no idea what makes a perfect mitzvah, though ideally it is blessed with purity of heart and beauty. I wonder if chesed, a deed of loving kindness, needs heart and beauty, too.

I wondered this a lot when I was in the throes of moving, more so, in the throes of having moved, and ultimately so in the throes of doing this mitzvah of helping my staccato landlady paint the rooms. In the searing heat. While my life miserably languished. Helping this person who in the 8 months I have known her remains emotionally distant and withholding and whose staccato style of speech reminds my tender ears of fingernails scraping across a blackboard. I have hated my life here, in this environment she has created, my fellow Jewess. It has been like sleeping on a bed of cold stones. Argh! It is not a life I would wish for anyone. To be bereft of human connection. To feel tolerated. Even when one musters the all-encompassing embrace of Torah to light, the real reality. Being vulnerably and wholly human, I have the strength to do and perceive only so much and sometimes being all alone is... being all alone. I guess the rest is in G-d's hands, though G-d doesn't seem too involved, and perhaps I'm not getting it.

I understand that doing a mitzvah is more important than kavannah.
Scraps of Torah scrolled through my head all the while I was painting....helping your neighbour's beast get out of the mud/doing for another, even if you hate them...helping your neighbour even though they have blown you off or were unco-operative in the past...the mitzvah is what matters regardless of your feelings.... it is more important to do the right thing than how you feel.... see what an individual needs and try to meet that need if possible...be a mensch even when no one else is... after a while it becomes a whirling kaleidoscope of jewelled ideals. As for the madness-- I alternately (and internally) raged, felt resentful, felt disappointed and hurt, felt hatred and bitterness....all the while, in mitzvah mode.

I sometimes think that the conceptualisation of the mitzvah as it has been normatively defined-- action not necessary of feeling-- must be the creation of males- after all, it is said that men do not necessarily attach feelings to actions, so, I'm guessing that that kind of mitzvah ought to be a piece of cake for men, and heavily justified/complicitous in reasoning - while a real struggle for women. What are we pursuing here, anyway? Even the notion of pursuing justice, as the ultimate end, has that 'masculine mind' kind of flavour to it. Geez, perhaps G-d really is male!

I have hated almost every moment of this mitzvah. The heat, the humidity, the sweating, the tears, the physical hurt and exhaustion, the emotional pain, the endless and prolonged hours, the frustration and vexation and ambivalence and ambiguity and I still do not like my fellow Jewess that much but I can't outright hate her- big fat bummer. But more so, it irks me greatly that she is my fellow Jewess and I feel it (so unmasculine!) and cannot, cannot ignore it. It irks me that I give her the benefit of the doubt even after 8 godawful months, even with all her projections and mine charging the air, and the really ugly alternate universe I live in around her, that challenges me every moment and that I fail most of the time, and yet a part of me understands which irks me even more.... It irks me that I can't find a way round the ties that bind, this benign straitjacket ... and I can't do it with love.....some people you just don't care for....so far....

It is sad.

Last night, after a couple of false starts, I finished painting. I am done. The mitzvah is done. Completed. Hey, it's been a real adventure! And staccato landlady is wondrously happy( aw, I did melt at her blatantly pleased and, I hate to admit it, grateful expression). I have no answers whatsoever as to what constitutes a perfect mitzvah or even a primitive, naked one lumbering along on all fours, dragging its knuckles, drooling. Certainly I have performed mine with absolutely no grace, or beauty, and 'harmony' is a word that I hope to meet and experience some day . It is a fact that I have inhabited a roiling cauldron of primo, homemade, ill will.

On the surface, I have made it work fairly pleasantly, but geez, I wish I had more heart. You could call me a Stoic if ya didn't know I was a Jewess. Yet, I am not a Stoic, because I am a Jewess. And this much I do know: throughout all the upheaval, the chaos (and emotionally, unless you are brain dead, you surely feel it all)...what kept me going was that I subscribe to the very Jewish, and Torah, notion, that it is important to add something to the world, my version of tikkun olam. As of this moment, perhaps I am batting 1000, in my own cranky way. I have added to, and not detracted from, diminished, or destroyed, where and when it matters. This is a good thing.


It reminds me of one of my favourite passages, one that is fashioning a permanent rut in my memory each time that I read it. It is from Shirat Hayam, Song of the Sea, which Moses sang in praise of crossing:

Nations take note and tremble, panic grips the dwellers of Philistia,
Edom's chieftains are chilled with dismay,
trembling seizes the mighty of Moab,
all the citizens of Canaan are confused,
dread and dismay descend upon them.
Your overwhelming power makes them still as stone,
while Your people, Lord, pass peacefully over,
the people whom you have redeemed.