I spent last Tuesday through Friday in New York City, my first ever visit. One of my very good friends went along for with me, and I couldn’t have asked for a better traveling companion. You see, this was our first time spending multiple full days together, 24/7. And I will readily admit to being an occasionally difficult traveler. I get cranky when my blood sugar drops in the afternoon and right now my moods can turn on a dime. This trip was no different, and I think everything was even more pronounced than usual because I was completely overstimulated with the sights, sounds, and smells of Manhattan. Our second day in the city was spent almost entirely at the Metropolitan Museum of Art. If you know me, you know that I love art. I’ve recently rediscovered my own love of painting (in a big way, actually—that is for another post), but I’ve never stopped loving art in general. The Met was like a pilgrimage experience for me. If you’ll excuse the Christian reference, it was like stepping into a grand cathedral to worship at the altar of paint, and marble, and beauty, and design, and form, and light. It was incredibly overwhelming, so much so that I believe I was literally on some kind of seratonin high. And anyone who knows anything about highs, whether they are artificially induced or not, knows that what comes up must come down. And down I came. I dropped fast and furious and that evening before dinner and the show I had what I can only describe as a meltdown. I had no control over my emotions and all I could do was cry and try to breathe. It was a stark contrast to how I felt going through the Met, and how I felt in general during the trip. It was frustrating to say the least. And at this point a lesser person, a lesser friend, probably would have written off the rest of the trip right then, figured that I was just a big emotional baby. But, my friend remained her patient and loving self as the tide passed and I began to feel better again.
I have to say that this was one of the best trips I have ever taken. Despite the aforementioned emotional issues, I had so much fun exploring New York, especially with my friend. I’m not sure I would have had as much fun with anyone else. Usually at the end of a trip like this it is all I can do to get away from the person I have been with for a little while; I need space, a lot of it. But, at the end of this trip all I wanted was for it to keep going. My mom asked me when I picked up my dog if we were still friends and I answered “of course!” Not once during the trip did I think “man, I could just use some time to myself.” I loved spending so much time with my friend and was sad when I had to get into the cab alone at the end of the trip to head home by myself.
One of the best parts of the trip was getting to see my uncle who lives in New York and who I don't get to see more than once a year usually. I don’t think I have smiled that much in a long time. It was so much fun and I felt so much love for him and was so happy that I got to share that with my friend as well. There is something special about getting to share the family you love with the other people in your life who you love. It was a great night.
I wasn’t back in town on Friday in time for services, but I was able to go Saturday morning, which was a nice way to end such a great week. I had gone through such a range of emotions while I was in New York and I was so tired, but I think it helped to inject my prayer with something more, a little raw, and I felt very connected.
To reference the title of this post, I don't believe that everything changed. I don't think any trip has that kind of power, no matter how amazing it is. But, I do believe I was able to discover some important information about myself, and that is a souvenir I will gladly walk away with.
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
Showing posts with label friends. Show all posts
6.01.2009
Patching a Hole
The World I Know, June 2009This post is not about Judaism, or spirituality, or even God, per se. But, it kinda is at the same time.
After a nearly 5 year absence, painting has made a resurgence in my life.
I used to paint all the time. I fell in love with it in high school, and while I dated other art forms in college, I always came back to painting at the end of the day. And then I graduated from college and entered the real world and lost all confidence in my abilities as an artist. I told myself that I stopped painting because it was too expensive, or I didn't have the space, or I didn't have the time. But, those were all excuses and in reality I didn't want to paint because I didn't think I could anymore. I kept myself surrounded by the last paintings I had completed and been proud of, and some days it would make me happy to see them. And other days it would make me incredibly sad to think that this was a part of my life that was over. I doubted whether I would ever pick up a paintbrush again.
Last spring I picked up some watercolors and painted a couple of times, mostly because I wanted to do something for friends who were moving out of state. But I was never a water colorist and I wasn't very happy and so I put down the paintbrush again.
A year later and nothing much had changed in my thinking about my art. What had changed was this incredible friend who has encouraged me to be creative again. So, using a coupon that she had sent, I picked up some oil paints and paintbrushes and dug out a blank canvas that had sat in my apartment for 5 years. And one day I began to paint.
And then I painted again. And again. And again. I bought an easel and more paint and the brushes I had always loved using and more canvas. I even finished a painting I had begun 5 years ago. Then one day I realized I had run out of space to prop up the drying paintings around my apartment. I had to use my laundry drying rack, and thus neglected doing laundry in favor of protecting the drying oils.
What I discovered, almost instantly, was just how much I had missed painting. I missed the smell of the paint, the feel of the brush, the way I could block out everything around me and just concentrate on the canvas. I had missed being creative because somewhere along the way I had convinced myself that it was something I no longer was capable of.
I realized something that only now can I truly appreciate: before I discovered Judaism, painting was how I prayed.
I feel a freedom with my painting now that I never could have in college. I always had an assignment or a project to work on, and even though I did paint for my own pleasure those times were few and far between and I was so locked into what I was doing in class that I didn't break away from it. Now, however... now I am allowing myself to just follow where the process will take me. I have played with color, with form, with light and dark. I have painted hands -- a challenge to myself to master something that I never could in college. This past weekend I turned my attention to what is around me and took my time with the paintings, something I never really did before. I was always anxious to finish something, to see what it would look like. But this weekend I slowed myself down and concentrated on making the paint work and respecting it when I needed to step away.
At this point painting has become a source of hope, a way to cope (and sometimes avoid), a way to express how I feel, and a way to reconnect. I don't think I would have picked up a paintbrush again were it not for the encouragement of my friend. It isn't every day that someone gives you back a piece of yourself that you thought was lost.
1.12.2009
To Stand Upright
This past Friday was our monthly Family Shabbat at my temple, preceded by a Religious School dinner and a Tot Shabbat. A full evening to be sure. I normally don’t show up for Tot Shabbat unless it is between Torah Study and services on a Saturday morning, but a friend of mine who has a 7-month-old son was planning on attending and since she is a fairly new member I said I would come for Tot Shabbat so she knew someone. And then I stuck around for the dinner. By the time services rolled around at 7:30 I had already been at temple since 6 and I was not only tired and had a headache, but I was beginning to feel a bit down. As a single person who would like to be in a relationship and as a Jew-by-Choice who does not have a Jewish family, it is sometimes difficult to be around so many families celebrating Shabbat. I have friends at temple who are like family to me, that is something I am incredibly grateful for, but sometimes it makes my own situation that much more lonely.
Thus with all of that on my mind and informing my thoughts and mood, I sat next to my wonderful and patient friend during services last Friday and when we reached the G’vurot in Mishkan T’filah I was struck by the profound nature of the interpretation by Rabbi Richard Levy that appears in the linear service (Shabbat Evening II) instead of the literal translation. This wasn’t the first time that the words of this prayer have resonated with me beyond the moment they are said, but that night they were especially powerful. After a long week of deadlines at work and a mood that swung high and low, sometimes multiple times a day, I was exhausted and more emotional than I was prepared for. I’ve included the text of the prayer below:
I recall a previous Shabbat, sitting next to the same friend, coming to the passage that states “...that we may blossom into person who have gained power over our own lives” and feeling the slightest of nudges and seeing the briefest of smiles, and I felt not only the support of my friend, but almost as if God had reached down and given me that nudge. It may sound hokey or even crazy, but that’s what I felt. So, when we came to this passage again last week I felt overwhelmed with emotion, knowing that the previous weeks had been a great mixture of happiness, frustration, sadness, joy, energy, and exhaustion.
“We pray to stand upright, we fallen.” This line, more than any other, is so full of meaning for me at this moment in my life. It does not say “We pray that God makes us stand upright,” or “We pray that someone will come along and prop us up” or even “We pray that we may prop our own selves up.” It simple says “We pray to stand upright.” As anyone who has suffered through bouts of depression and anxiety can tell you, this isn’t something that you can get through alone, but it also isn’t something that you can just ask someone else, even God, to fix. Whatever you need to do to stand upright again... well, you do it. You may do it grudgingly, you may fight it stubbornly every step, but in the end all you want is to stand upright again.
Thus with all of that on my mind and informing my thoughts and mood, I sat next to my wonderful and patient friend during services last Friday and when we reached the G’vurot in Mishkan T’filah I was struck by the profound nature of the interpretation by Rabbi Richard Levy that appears in the linear service (Shabbat Evening II) instead of the literal translation. This wasn’t the first time that the words of this prayer have resonated with me beyond the moment they are said, but that night they were especially powerful. After a long week of deadlines at work and a mood that swung high and low, sometimes multiple times a day, I was exhausted and more emotional than I was prepared for. I’ve included the text of the prayer below:
We pray that we might know before whom we stand,
the Power whose gift is life,
who quickens those who have forgotten how to live,
having implanted within us eternal spirit.
We pray for winds to disperse the air of sadness,
for rains to make parched hopes rise again.
We pray for love to encompass us
for no reason save that we are human,
that we may blossom into persons
who have gained power over our own lives.
We pray to stand upright, we fallen; to be healed, we sufferers.
We pray to break the bonds that keep us from the world of beauty.
We pray to be open to our own true selves.
We pray that we may walk in a garden of purpose,
in touch with the power of the world.
Praised be the God whose gift is life,
whose cleansing rains let parched men and women rise again.
Rabbi Richard Levy
(From Mishkan T’filah, G’vurot, Shabbat Evening II)
I recall a previous Shabbat, sitting next to the same friend, coming to the passage that states “...that we may blossom into person who have gained power over our own lives” and feeling the slightest of nudges and seeing the briefest of smiles, and I felt not only the support of my friend, but almost as if God had reached down and given me that nudge. It may sound hokey or even crazy, but that’s what I felt. So, when we came to this passage again last week I felt overwhelmed with emotion, knowing that the previous weeks had been a great mixture of happiness, frustration, sadness, joy, energy, and exhaustion.
“We pray to stand upright, we fallen.” This line, more than any other, is so full of meaning for me at this moment in my life. It does not say “We pray that God makes us stand upright,” or “We pray that someone will come along and prop us up” or even “We pray that we may prop our own selves up.” It simple says “We pray to stand upright.” As anyone who has suffered through bouts of depression and anxiety can tell you, this isn’t something that you can get through alone, but it also isn’t something that you can just ask someone else, even God, to fix. Whatever you need to do to stand upright again... well, you do it. You may do it grudgingly, you may fight it stubbornly every step, but in the end all you want is to stand upright again.
12.17.2008
Where We Find God
I have faith. I can’t describe it, but I know it is there and it is both a comfort and a source of strength.
And yet I still have fear. Of the unknown. Of the future. Of death. One could assume that with faith your fear would melt away. If you have faith shouldn’t you believe that God will take care of you? What is left to fear? But, I don’t think that faith works like that. I’m not sure exactly HOW it works, but I know that it doesn’t erase fear and uncertainty.
On Monday I attended the monthly Lunch and Learn that my rabbi does in a congregant's office downtown. It was just a few of us, and the topic for the afternoon was death, the afterlife, and cremation. When your rabbi asks you point blank what you think about the afterlife and your first reaction is immediate anxiety it is perhaps time to examine why you feel this way, except this involves thinking about the very thing that causes you sleepless nights and panic attacks and why, oh why, would you put yourself through that? Isn’t it easier to just go through life and ignore the things that cause our stomachs to contract, our palms to sweat, our pulses to raise, and not in a good way? Can’t we just avoid the things that we are afraid of? I am reading David Wolpe’s Why Faith Matters right now, and of course one of the things he brings up first is death and dying and fear. So, it seems that I will be confronting this sooner than later.
Articulating what I think about faith and God is difficult. I know that when I am with people I love it is easier to express my experience of God—it is in the relationships, the smiles, the laughs, the hugs, the comfort, the support. It is harder to express what I think about faith when it relates to something that I fear, especially when describing that fear is troublesome in and of itself.
This past week the Torah portion dealt with Jacob wrestling with mysterious figure (An angel? Esau? Jacob himself?) and then with his meet-up with his estranged brother, Esau. This is one of my favorite parts of the Torah, because while my rabbi calls Jacob a thug, I think he is a much more relatable figure than say Moses or Abraham. Jacob is altogether human, with human frailties and imperfections. When he wrestles with the stranger we don’t know who it is and are left to draw our own conclusions. But, I don’t think we can understand fully the wrestling episode without considering the reconciliation between Jacob and Esau that occurs in the next chapter. Jacob says to his brother “for to see your face is like seeing the face of God.” When Jacob had wrestled with the stranger he renames the place Peniel, which means “I have seen a divine being face to face.” Whether or not we are meant to believe that the stranger was Esau, or an angel, or God, or even Jacob, what I take away from this (and others have as well--check out G-d Cast) is that it is in our relationships that we encounter God. It is in the face of a person you love that you see God, that you can see your faith manifest.
So, how does this all tie together with what I wrote at the beginning of this entry? I’m not sure. I know that my experience of God has been profound in the past few months as I have struggled and as I have begun to regain my footing. I know that my faith has been strengthened because of the connections that have kept me going and I don’t believe these connections are mere chance. I have seen the face of God in the smiles of friends and I have felt God’s embrace in their hugs and their love. It makes the prospect of confronting that which I fear slightly less daunting.
And yet I still have fear. Of the unknown. Of the future. Of death. One could assume that with faith your fear would melt away. If you have faith shouldn’t you believe that God will take care of you? What is left to fear? But, I don’t think that faith works like that. I’m not sure exactly HOW it works, but I know that it doesn’t erase fear and uncertainty.
On Monday I attended the monthly Lunch and Learn that my rabbi does in a congregant's office downtown. It was just a few of us, and the topic for the afternoon was death, the afterlife, and cremation. When your rabbi asks you point blank what you think about the afterlife and your first reaction is immediate anxiety it is perhaps time to examine why you feel this way, except this involves thinking about the very thing that causes you sleepless nights and panic attacks and why, oh why, would you put yourself through that? Isn’t it easier to just go through life and ignore the things that cause our stomachs to contract, our palms to sweat, our pulses to raise, and not in a good way? Can’t we just avoid the things that we are afraid of? I am reading David Wolpe’s Why Faith Matters right now, and of course one of the things he brings up first is death and dying and fear. So, it seems that I will be confronting this sooner than later.
Articulating what I think about faith and God is difficult. I know that when I am with people I love it is easier to express my experience of God—it is in the relationships, the smiles, the laughs, the hugs, the comfort, the support. It is harder to express what I think about faith when it relates to something that I fear, especially when describing that fear is troublesome in and of itself.
This past week the Torah portion dealt with Jacob wrestling with mysterious figure (An angel? Esau? Jacob himself?) and then with his meet-up with his estranged brother, Esau. This is one of my favorite parts of the Torah, because while my rabbi calls Jacob a thug, I think he is a much more relatable figure than say Moses or Abraham. Jacob is altogether human, with human frailties and imperfections. When he wrestles with the stranger we don’t know who it is and are left to draw our own conclusions. But, I don’t think we can understand fully the wrestling episode without considering the reconciliation between Jacob and Esau that occurs in the next chapter. Jacob says to his brother “for to see your face is like seeing the face of God.” When Jacob had wrestled with the stranger he renames the place Peniel, which means “I have seen a divine being face to face.” Whether or not we are meant to believe that the stranger was Esau, or an angel, or God, or even Jacob, what I take away from this (and others have as well--check out G-d Cast) is that it is in our relationships that we encounter God. It is in the face of a person you love that you see God, that you can see your faith manifest.
So, how does this all tie together with what I wrote at the beginning of this entry? I’m not sure. I know that my experience of God has been profound in the past few months as I have struggled and as I have begun to regain my footing. I know that my faith has been strengthened because of the connections that have kept me going and I don’t believe these connections are mere chance. I have seen the face of God in the smiles of friends and I have felt God’s embrace in their hugs and their love. It makes the prospect of confronting that which I fear slightly less daunting.
11.12.2008
Checking In
It has been a long time since I have posted anything, and that mostly has to do with dealing with a pretty deep depression (which I wrote about here over at JBC.org). Life has been a bit of a roller coaster ride for me since September and I'm only just now feeling like things are leveling out a little bit, so hopefully I'll have some stuff to write about soon. I've felt quite disconnected from a number of things and I'm slowly trying to make those connections active again. I feel quite lucky that I have had an incredible support system during this time, from my best friend who is hundreds of miles away, to a wonderful friend and her family, to my rabbi and temple community, to my friends in California and Atlanta. Together they have provided me love, friendship, and help as I tried (and still try) to make the choices that are good for me. I'm not out of the darkness yet, but the light is easier to see and appears more often.
Life has not stopped in the past couple of months, however. The High Holy Days have come and gone, Hebrew school marches on, I've visited my dear friends in California, and work has been as busy as ever. Each day was a struggle for awhile; it is hard to go about your day to day business and relate to people when you feel so far out of your own skin, but the world around you doesn't stand still just because you want to crawl under the covers.
So, hopefully, this will signal my return to blogging.
Life has not stopped in the past couple of months, however. The High Holy Days have come and gone, Hebrew school marches on, I've visited my dear friends in California, and work has been as busy as ever. Each day was a struggle for awhile; it is hard to go about your day to day business and relate to people when you feel so far out of your own skin, but the world around you doesn't stand still just because you want to crawl under the covers.
So, hopefully, this will signal my return to blogging.
9.11.2008
Let's Gain Momentum
It's been awhile since I posted, and I have no real excuse other than not having a lot to say that is blog-appropriate. Life has been interesting. So, in lieu of anything terribly exciting, here is a rundown of what is going on in my life:
• My 10-year high school reunion is next Saturday. I'm looking forward to it if for no other reason than to see the reactions of my fellow all-girls-Catholic-school-mates to my very obvious Jewishness. Admittedly I'm also looking forward to seeing some people who I haven't spoken with in a very long time.
• The weather if finally cooling down here in Cincinnati and my allergies seem to also be calming down, at least until the leaves start falling. All of which means I can now open up my windows again and enjoy the fresh air and breezes through my apartment. I love Fall. I love the way the air smells when it starts getting a slight chill to it. I love the colors and the smell of the leaves on the ground. The first day that requires a sweatshirt is always a good day.
• With the new season comes a new year of Religious School at my temple. This is my fifth year teaching, though only my second consecutive in the same class/subject. I have Alef Hebrew students again and our first class was this past Tuesday. They are an energetic bunch in a completely different way than last year's kids who I adored. It looks like it will be a fun year.
• A friend of mine from high school (the only one I've kept up a good friendship with over the years) has moved into my neighborhood, just a couple streets away. Last weekend we had dinner, beer, and played Carcassonne, one of the most addictive board games ever. I'm very happy to have a good friend within walking distance to hang out with. It's been since college that I could just walk to someone's house to see them and not need to take the car.
• For the first time in a really long time I had feelings for someone (a crush!). While it isn't going to work out it has been a nice little refreshing diversion. I'd forgotten how fun those emotions can be. And also how easy it is to revert to feeling like a sixth-grader when thinking about if the object of your affection has feelings for you in return.
• Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are fast approaching. I wrote a post over at JBC.org last week about how much I love YK and my strong connection to it. I find myself really looking forward to this High Holy Day season more than usual. There is just something completely satisfying emotionally and spiritually with ending one year and beginning another by accounting for what has happened. It is a good time to reflect and to ponder what could be for the year to come.
• I deleted my LiveJournal account a couple of weeks ago. I haven't really posted in over two years, but for about 4 years after college it was a large part of my online life. After a falling out with a friend from college, however, I just didn't feel like posting anymore. After contemplating it for awhile I finally decided to just delete it all together after downloading all of the old entries. It was interesting to read some of the stuff I wrote 6 years ago and to think about how different I was. It was cool getting to read my entries from when I was beginning my formal studies with my rabbi and to remember how exciting and new it was for me back then (and to realize how exciting learning still is). So, in a sense, I felt like I am closing that chapter of my life. Not to sound cliché, but I'm older now and my priorities have shifted. I feel that I am a much different person today than I was when I first set up that account.
• My 10-year high school reunion is next Saturday. I'm looking forward to it if for no other reason than to see the reactions of my fellow all-girls-Catholic-school-mates to my very obvious Jewishness. Admittedly I'm also looking forward to seeing some people who I haven't spoken with in a very long time.
• The weather if finally cooling down here in Cincinnati and my allergies seem to also be calming down, at least until the leaves start falling. All of which means I can now open up my windows again and enjoy the fresh air and breezes through my apartment. I love Fall. I love the way the air smells when it starts getting a slight chill to it. I love the colors and the smell of the leaves on the ground. The first day that requires a sweatshirt is always a good day.
• With the new season comes a new year of Religious School at my temple. This is my fifth year teaching, though only my second consecutive in the same class/subject. I have Alef Hebrew students again and our first class was this past Tuesday. They are an energetic bunch in a completely different way than last year's kids who I adored. It looks like it will be a fun year.
• A friend of mine from high school (the only one I've kept up a good friendship with over the years) has moved into my neighborhood, just a couple streets away. Last weekend we had dinner, beer, and played Carcassonne, one of the most addictive board games ever. I'm very happy to have a good friend within walking distance to hang out with. It's been since college that I could just walk to someone's house to see them and not need to take the car.
• For the first time in a really long time I had feelings for someone (a crush!). While it isn't going to work out it has been a nice little refreshing diversion. I'd forgotten how fun those emotions can be. And also how easy it is to revert to feeling like a sixth-grader when thinking about if the object of your affection has feelings for you in return.
• Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur are fast approaching. I wrote a post over at JBC.org last week about how much I love YK and my strong connection to it. I find myself really looking forward to this High Holy Day season more than usual. There is just something completely satisfying emotionally and spiritually with ending one year and beginning another by accounting for what has happened. It is a good time to reflect and to ponder what could be for the year to come.
• I deleted my LiveJournal account a couple of weeks ago. I haven't really posted in over two years, but for about 4 years after college it was a large part of my online life. After a falling out with a friend from college, however, I just didn't feel like posting anymore. After contemplating it for awhile I finally decided to just delete it all together after downloading all of the old entries. It was interesting to read some of the stuff I wrote 6 years ago and to think about how different I was. It was cool getting to read my entries from when I was beginning my formal studies with my rabbi and to remember how exciting and new it was for me back then (and to realize how exciting learning still is). So, in a sense, I felt like I am closing that chapter of my life. Not to sound cliché, but I'm older now and my priorities have shifted. I feel that I am a much different person today than I was when I first set up that account.
8.22.2008
The Choices We Make
When I was out in Seattle last week visiting friends from college who I haven't seen in 5 years (and a couple I haven't been in touch with at all during that time period), I got the question. You know. THE Question. Every JBC or Jew-to-Be knows the question and gets asked it a million different ways by a million different people: Why did you convert?
I always find this to be a difficult question to answer, and not because I don't know the answer, but because I never am quite sure what kind of detail people want when they ask. Are they just being polite and they want the quick-no-details-I-did-this-and-thats-that answer? Or do they want it more fleshed out? Do they want to hear me talk about my philosophy of belief in God? Do they want to hear about belief at all? The choice of words, of language, is interesting. For instance, if I know that the person I am having the conversation with is religious themselves I feel more comfortable using God-language and language relating to belief and faith. If I don't know the person's own religious affiliation or views I'm usually a lot more general, talking about my dissatisfaction with the religion I had been brought up in and my interest in, and eventual connection to, Judaism.
This has been on my mind, because while on vacation I was surrounded by people I was friends with before I really got interested in Judaism and obviously before I converted. The ones I had stayed in touch with had been supportive as I converted and everything, but we had never existed in the same space together after I became Jewish. Throughout the stay part of me was very conscious of my Jewish identity and yet not completely connected to it, if that makes any sense. It was almost as if the Queer Jewish Woman that I am now was existing right alongside the Queer Woman I was in college, kind of poking her and saying "wow, I haven't seen you in a long time." Which makes it sound like I was acting differently, but I wasn't. It was more that I felt that the part of my current identity that had actually been around during college was the more acknowledged one because it was the most familiar one in this context.
For anyone who reads this blog regularly or knows me has probably guessed, attending Shabbat services on Friday and Saturday are incredibly important to me. This is my anchor to the week, my refuge when I need it, my celebration. I look forward to being in the presence of my community and God each week. As I headed to Seattle I wasn't quite sure how I was going to navigate Shabbat while I was there. On the one hand I wanted to spend as much time with my friends (none of whom are Jewish). On the other hand I still felt like I needed to have that opportunity to re-ground myself. Friday night before we headed out to Lake Washington I asked if we could look online to find a synagogue close by where I could possibly attend services Saturday morning. We had already made plans with E&M2 for brunch at 11:30, so I tried to find something that would be over in enough time and that was close enough to get to the cafe by the set time. The closest was Temple De Hirsch Sinai, but its service wouldn't begin until 10:30 and I knew it would be at least an hour long if not longer. So, I resigned myself to no temple for the week, which in reality bummed me out a lot more than I was expecting. I kept it to myself at first, because I wasn't quite sure how to express how important Shabbat was to me and I didn't want to upset the plans that had already been made. It wasn't until the next morning after we woke up and were trying to figure what we would do before brunch that I finally spoke up. "Would it be too much trouble for me to go to temple?" I realized that if I didn't make the effort it would bother me the rest of the trip, knowing that I allowed myself to make a choice that I wasn't comfortable with. They were more than happy to oblige; E dropped me off at the temple and everyone did some gardening while I was there. I did duck out before the end of services (though right after the Torah reading) because I needed to meet them all back outside on the corner by 11:30. While I would have loved to stay through the end, I was happy to have participated in Torah study and gotten the chance to sing and pray. The rest of the day I felt much more at peace, knowing that I had made the right decision for myself and my own spirituality.
As a Jew-by-Choice I know that I will continually choose Judaism as my path, as was apparent last weekend when faced with the choice to make my Shabbat observance happen or to go with the flow. I am glad that I did, proud of the fact that I did, and happy that I have the types of friends who didn't think any differently of me or the situation--it's just a part of who I am.
I always find this to be a difficult question to answer, and not because I don't know the answer, but because I never am quite sure what kind of detail people want when they ask. Are they just being polite and they want the quick-no-details-I-did-this-and-thats-that answer? Or do they want it more fleshed out? Do they want to hear me talk about my philosophy of belief in God? Do they want to hear about belief at all? The choice of words, of language, is interesting. For instance, if I know that the person I am having the conversation with is religious themselves I feel more comfortable using God-language and language relating to belief and faith. If I don't know the person's own religious affiliation or views I'm usually a lot more general, talking about my dissatisfaction with the religion I had been brought up in and my interest in, and eventual connection to, Judaism.
This has been on my mind, because while on vacation I was surrounded by people I was friends with before I really got interested in Judaism and obviously before I converted. The ones I had stayed in touch with had been supportive as I converted and everything, but we had never existed in the same space together after I became Jewish. Throughout the stay part of me was very conscious of my Jewish identity and yet not completely connected to it, if that makes any sense. It was almost as if the Queer Jewish Woman that I am now was existing right alongside the Queer Woman I was in college, kind of poking her and saying "wow, I haven't seen you in a long time." Which makes it sound like I was acting differently, but I wasn't. It was more that I felt that the part of my current identity that had actually been around during college was the more acknowledged one because it was the most familiar one in this context.
For anyone who reads this blog regularly or knows me has probably guessed, attending Shabbat services on Friday and Saturday are incredibly important to me. This is my anchor to the week, my refuge when I need it, my celebration. I look forward to being in the presence of my community and God each week. As I headed to Seattle I wasn't quite sure how I was going to navigate Shabbat while I was there. On the one hand I wanted to spend as much time with my friends (none of whom are Jewish). On the other hand I still felt like I needed to have that opportunity to re-ground myself. Friday night before we headed out to Lake Washington I asked if we could look online to find a synagogue close by where I could possibly attend services Saturday morning. We had already made plans with E&M2 for brunch at 11:30, so I tried to find something that would be over in enough time and that was close enough to get to the cafe by the set time. The closest was Temple De Hirsch Sinai, but its service wouldn't begin until 10:30 and I knew it would be at least an hour long if not longer. So, I resigned myself to no temple for the week, which in reality bummed me out a lot more than I was expecting. I kept it to myself at first, because I wasn't quite sure how to express how important Shabbat was to me and I didn't want to upset the plans that had already been made. It wasn't until the next morning after we woke up and were trying to figure what we would do before brunch that I finally spoke up. "Would it be too much trouble for me to go to temple?" I realized that if I didn't make the effort it would bother me the rest of the trip, knowing that I allowed myself to make a choice that I wasn't comfortable with. They were more than happy to oblige; E dropped me off at the temple and everyone did some gardening while I was there. I did duck out before the end of services (though right after the Torah reading) because I needed to meet them all back outside on the corner by 11:30. While I would have loved to stay through the end, I was happy to have participated in Torah study and gotten the chance to sing and pray. The rest of the day I felt much more at peace, knowing that I had made the right decision for myself and my own spirituality.
As a Jew-by-Choice I know that I will continually choose Judaism as my path, as was apparent last weekend when faced with the choice to make my Shabbat observance happen or to go with the flow. I am glad that I did, proud of the fact that I did, and happy that I have the types of friends who didn't think any differently of me or the situation--it's just a part of who I am.
8.19.2008
Vacation: All I Ever Wanted
I apologize for the radio silence. Work got the better of me and then I was on vacation in Seattle for a week visiting some good friends from college. I had an awesome time and it was really great to see these wonderful friends after so long (5 years!). There was a lot of good food, a lot of Buffy watching, a good amount of drinking, and tons of silliness. It was a much needed break and a much needed time to reconnect to people who were an important part of making my college years a memorable time.
A quick recap:
• Flew out of Dayton Wednesday morning, passing through Atlanta (and a 4 hour layover) before reaching Seattle at 5:30pm. Wednesday evening consisted of a light dinner and catching up/hanging out with E&M (who I was staying with).
• Thursday morning I explored downtown and Pike Place on my own. Met up with A at Pioneer Square for lunch and catching up, and then back to E&M's to sit on the porch and talk some more as we waited for them to return from work. Dinner at a really good pizza place with gellato for dessert (yum!) and a very earnest waiter. Some Buffy watching that evening (the musical, I believe).
• Friday morning was breakfast at Glo's and a browse through Twice Sold Tales (a great used book store in Capital Hill that I'd been to on previous visits--my trips always include lots of bookstore browsing) before taking the bus downtown to see the library and then out to see the Space Needle.
• Friday evening was dinner at a brew house and then some excitement that included a smoldering parking lot planter and the fire department. Later in the evening we enjoyed the cool waters and sand (ick) of Lake Washington and reveled in watching the moon rise.
• Saturday morning I headed to Torah study and services at Temple De Hirsch Sinai. I ducked out after the Torah service to meet my friends and head to Cafe Flora for lunch with 2 more friends from college (another E&M couple, if you can believe it, so they shall be E&M2). Lunch was quite delicious and enjoyable with the addition of beignets and mimosas of the non-orange juice variety. It took a good 20 minutes for 6 Oberlin College graduates to figure out the logistics for the afternoon, which eventually included me going to the mall with E&M2 while E&M1 and A headed back to the beach for an afternoon of swimming. I got scolded by an old Jewish lady for wearing my tzitzits out while at the mall on Shabbes, which was quite amusing, and I reminisced about fencing with E2 while M2 got her computer fixed at the Apple store. The late afternoon/evening was capped off with take-out from a Thai/Vietnamese place and more Buffy watching.
• Sunday was breakfast at the Coastal Cafe (I had crab cakes, the first time I've had shellfish since January 1st, but I was on vacation and on the coast and decided that I was okay with that; I did wear a ball cap instead of my kippah and shoved my tzitzit into my pockets, though). After that A had to drive back to Olympia and E1 had a massage, so M1 and I went to the farmers market in Capital Hill where we ran into E&M2. Much yumminess was aquired (blackberries, tiger tomatoes, corn, and cheese, plus a sampling for me of Earl Grey Chocolate hand-made ice cream. We also browsed (and bought) at Bailey Coy (I was looking for She's Such a Geek!, which has a really awesome essay by E2; I would recommend it to anyone, especially those out there who are also geeks). The rest of the afternoon was nice and lazy capped off with a call to one of E&M's friends who moved to Kentucky so we could "meet" over the phone, and then a delicious dinner with our items from the farmer's market.
So, a not-so-brief recap after all. It was a wonderful time and I'll maybe post some pictures later in the week.
A quick recap:
• Flew out of Dayton Wednesday morning, passing through Atlanta (and a 4 hour layover) before reaching Seattle at 5:30pm. Wednesday evening consisted of a light dinner and catching up/hanging out with E&M (who I was staying with).
• Thursday morning I explored downtown and Pike Place on my own. Met up with A at Pioneer Square for lunch and catching up, and then back to E&M's to sit on the porch and talk some more as we waited for them to return from work. Dinner at a really good pizza place with gellato for dessert (yum!) and a very earnest waiter. Some Buffy watching that evening (the musical, I believe).
• Friday morning was breakfast at Glo's and a browse through Twice Sold Tales (a great used book store in Capital Hill that I'd been to on previous visits--my trips always include lots of bookstore browsing) before taking the bus downtown to see the library and then out to see the Space Needle.
• Friday evening was dinner at a brew house and then some excitement that included a smoldering parking lot planter and the fire department. Later in the evening we enjoyed the cool waters and sand (ick) of Lake Washington and reveled in watching the moon rise.
• Saturday morning I headed to Torah study and services at Temple De Hirsch Sinai. I ducked out after the Torah service to meet my friends and head to Cafe Flora for lunch with 2 more friends from college (another E&M couple, if you can believe it, so they shall be E&M2). Lunch was quite delicious and enjoyable with the addition of beignets and mimosas of the non-orange juice variety. It took a good 20 minutes for 6 Oberlin College graduates to figure out the logistics for the afternoon, which eventually included me going to the mall with E&M2 while E&M1 and A headed back to the beach for an afternoon of swimming. I got scolded by an old Jewish lady for wearing my tzitzits out while at the mall on Shabbes, which was quite amusing, and I reminisced about fencing with E2 while M2 got her computer fixed at the Apple store. The late afternoon/evening was capped off with take-out from a Thai/Vietnamese place and more Buffy watching.
• Sunday was breakfast at the Coastal Cafe (I had crab cakes, the first time I've had shellfish since January 1st, but I was on vacation and on the coast and decided that I was okay with that; I did wear a ball cap instead of my kippah and shoved my tzitzit into my pockets, though). After that A had to drive back to Olympia and E1 had a massage, so M1 and I went to the farmers market in Capital Hill where we ran into E&M2. Much yumminess was aquired (blackberries, tiger tomatoes, corn, and cheese, plus a sampling for me of Earl Grey Chocolate hand-made ice cream. We also browsed (and bought) at Bailey Coy (I was looking for She's Such a Geek!, which has a really awesome essay by E2; I would recommend it to anyone, especially those out there who are also geeks). The rest of the afternoon was nice and lazy capped off with a call to one of E&M's friends who moved to Kentucky so we could "meet" over the phone, and then a delicious dinner with our items from the farmer's market.
So, a not-so-brief recap after all. It was a wonderful time and I'll maybe post some pictures later in the week.
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