The Duckless Summer

© Barefoot Jewess

The usual duck models were not available for this photo shoot.

Dog Days

© Barefoot Jewess

The dogs were happy to oblige.

Reporting on G-d II: Tisha B'Av, Mourning Ground Zero

Though he slay me, yet will I trust in Him (Job 13:15)

Him? "Him"?

No, there is no "him". I don't remotely believe or experience G-d to be separate from me- G-d suffuses everything. Everything is G-d. The pain, the blood, the joy, the delight. There is no question in my mind.

As for Job, who can stand here and say their story is akin to his? That notion is rather daunting and humbling. Perhaps it's just that we can relate. We may not be so extravagantly prosperous, but maybe we've known extravagant happiness and blessing and suddenly it is all snatched away, in ways we never imagined. Job's story is related so compassionately.

In that tale, the Satan, G-d's familiar, is directed to afflict the soul in whom G-d has tremendous confidence. We see Job as a man who mindlessly clings to ritual and doing all the right things that he thinks have brought him the great rewards of prosperity. Well, I am not sure how many of us can relate to that part. In fact, I think it is G-d's confidence in Job's core soul that allows Him to risk such material and emotional devastation on Job's life, even though Job simplistically believes right acts lead to reward.

It turns out that shaking a fist at G-d and standing his ground is Job's real style, his core nature and soul. In the face of everything, he finally declares: Though he slay me, yet will I trust in Him. Or, "yet will I argue with Him".

I've observed G-d for quite some time, now. And rarely really reported on the phenomenon. I read Psalms and discover a pattern: that the Psalmists are always experiencing G-d and/or trying to get back to G-d and the experience. I discover another pattern in Shaharit, the morning service, that addresses an awesome encounter, a description of that encounter, and the desire to remain within that experience; and having had that encounter, to live in hope of it and of G-d's grace and favour, to be suffused with that supernal light which is hoped for, wished for, craved, longed for, and which you can't buy, bargain for or will. It's all about returning to G-d. Over and over again.

Sometimes, I feel as if I'm on a treadmill. The "getting back to G-d" treadmill. Crap happens. I turn to G-d. Crap happens again and I turn to G-d. Even when I think I'm being faithful, doing the right things, crap happens and I'm back to square one. Or lately, back to ground zero. I have to ask myself at some point, is this that damned Buddhist wheel of suffering? Am I not getting it? Am I not understanding?

And then Tisha B'Av comes along. I remember, once, reading Eicha, The Book of Lamentations, and fasting, all by my lonesome and being struck by the thought of there being no G-d, no cosmic meaning in my life. As I've mentioned before, the realisation filled me with utter terror, as if I were torn away...violently rent from the source of Everything.

Ask me if I am not relieved to have Tisha B'Av descend upon us this Saturday night? I may feel as if I'm on a treadmill, but it somehow brings relief, becomes a touchstone. I have so much to howl at this year, and Lamentations is as ground zero as you can get. I will grasp at any holy verses that capture the essence of our tender, vertiginous lives and the nightmares that petrify our dreams. They are as real as all the hope and glory, and they are as much sanctified.

No one can answer why bad things happen to good (or innocuous) people. Any answers I have ever read have always created a limited god, a god of our projection, a god of our personal understanding, touted as the god. No. There is only mystery, and perhaps a spark of great unfathomable love, if we are lucky. A love that encompasses the good and the bad, because, in the end, it is all good.

Feh. In my raging pain it remains cold comfort; I want my friend back as she was, I want some shred of remembered happiness with no cruel unabiding centre.

Still, Though he slay me, yet will I trust in Him (Job 13:15)

Go figure.

Not Fade Away

This blog has always been about the spiritual/religious journey. It has been about discovery. Sometimes it's about Jews, sometimes it's about my life which I deem not my own but belonging to G-d. The latter has never been a choice for me, it just happened.

My best friend, L, the love of my life, yes, the love of my life even though some man in my life should be my bashert, has Multiple Sclerosis. It's been ten years since we met, and 5 years since she was diagnosed. She is the only family I have.

Her symptoms are not so physical, contrary to what most people experience or know. Her fatigue has grown over time but she lost 10 IQ points when she was assessed 5 years ago. yet her brightness remains unabated. She has difficulty with her memory, difficulty with tiredness, difficulty with initiating anything. Lately, in my experience, she has difficulty with empathy and seems indifferent to the latest symptoms. She has changed, not for the better.

Where does this leave me in my journey? I'm losing the one person with whom I was actually happy. It's not like she died. She's just fading away. Which is far worse than death.

Where does this leave me in my journey? I don't ask this because it's just about me, but more so, it leaves me confused. As to what do I do? How do I manage this, in a divine sense, when she shows indifference? And why, G-d, why, did you fashion the person I love into someone who is fading away from me?

I've had ten years of true love. I am so grateful. But I'm mourning.

Meanwhile, life continues. It just does.

And I don't know how to approach G-d on this. Since G-d came through, my life has taken an ostensible turn for the worst- aloneness, poverty, humiliation, betrayal, deprivation. I have imagined my life so differently, if I had only chosen safety and security. Material benefits have sucked, no matter what.

Since that seminal moment, life continues to be a challenge and not of my choosing. I am astounded by how endlessly rotten it can be. And yet blessings of an untagged sort, do pour in. Go figure.

I want G-d to make my best friend okay, or at the very least, come back to me, yet I know it will never happen. But I keep praying for her healing. Because it's what Jews do- live in hope. And because even though my encounters with G-d these days are not a happy happening, even though my spiritual life seems arid and wasted, so dry I want to spit, I tussle with the Big Guy, asking questions, demanding answers. I want to know that in the midst of all of this crap, divine love rains down. That, even in the midst of my anguish, the questions and love never fade away.