No Small Thing from beyondthemap
Tradition, Tradition from Jewcy
Huggalugs Leg and Arm Warmers
Nefesh b'Nefesh article on aliyah
MamaBlogga's Group Writing Project
(from my del.icio.us...although I must admit, I've just been busy! So there haven't been too many places to be this week...after the holidays...)
i think it's time for a blogroll...that after the holidays too....
Sunday, September 9, 2007
Saturday, September 8, 2007
Memories...and Reality
Each year, I am blessed to serve as the rabbi-in-residence for the Devorah Quilting Kallah at Olin-Sang-Ruby Union Institute. There, we are led so capably by our teacher, Flo London, who over the last few years has encouraged each participant to explore their own creativity. Because of this, I am always looking for new creativity exercises and ways to build my own creativity. So I was very excited when Melody at Slurping Life founded a new blog all about creativity...Wrapped Emotions.
I must admit, this time of year is awfully busy for me, but I really wanted to participate, so here goes!
Our assignment was: As a young child what was your favorite-absolutely-loved-to-get candy treat? Now go buy it and eat candy. Save the wrapper or box. Sit back, savor your treat, close your eyes and remember enjoying the candy as a child. What were you doing? Who was there with you? How did you feel?
I admit, I'm not a big candy eater, and I never was. I could only think of one time in my life that candy played a role, and that was during college. One year in the dorms, a couple friends and I bought massive quantities (the jumbo bags from the warehouse store) of Mike and Ike's candy. It was quite good, sweet and sticky...except the red ones. My friends would not eat the red ones.
So I bought a box of Mike and Ike's. And you know what, they were not very good. Sticky and sweet and artifical-tasting...yuck. I ate about 5 of them, I kept hoping it would get better, and then I dumped out the box and made my collage (above) which doesn't have much artistry, I suppose...but I think my creativity comes in words these days!
I got to thinking about memory vs. reality. How often do our memories of an event supercede the actual event? And how often do our memories prevent us from enjoying something current because it's "not like it used to be"? I think, as I'm doing a lot lately, about the upcoming High Holy Days. So often people will tell me that they can't find spirituality in the services because it's not the way it used to be, it's not their old rabbi, their old cantor, their old seat, their old prayerbook....whatever it is. And I'm sad for them. Because each year is a new year, each opportunity is a new opportunity, and each time we open ourselves up to the possibilities of something new, we let in those possibilities...for renewed spiritual connection, renewed faith, renewed intention, renewed relationships with each other and with God.
May this holiday season bring for each of us the possiblity of being open to new experiences, new ideas, and even...gulp...change. May we be able to live in the present, instead of in the past...always relishing our history, but knowing that what we have now holds its own blessings.
See more participants at Wrapped Emotions.
I must admit, this time of year is awfully busy for me, but I really wanted to participate, so here goes!
Our assignment was: As a young child what was your favorite-absolutely-loved-to-get candy treat? Now go buy it and eat candy. Save the wrapper or box. Sit back, savor your treat, close your eyes and remember enjoying the candy as a child. What were you doing? Who was there with you? How did you feel?
I admit, I'm not a big candy eater, and I never was. I could only think of one time in my life that candy played a role, and that was during college. One year in the dorms, a couple friends and I bought massive quantities (the jumbo bags from the warehouse store) of Mike and Ike's candy. It was quite good, sweet and sticky...except the red ones. My friends would not eat the red ones.
So I bought a box of Mike and Ike's. And you know what, they were not very good. Sticky and sweet and artifical-tasting...yuck. I ate about 5 of them, I kept hoping it would get better, and then I dumped out the box and made my collage (above) which doesn't have much artistry, I suppose...but I think my creativity comes in words these days!
I got to thinking about memory vs. reality. How often do our memories of an event supercede the actual event? And how often do our memories prevent us from enjoying something current because it's "not like it used to be"? I think, as I'm doing a lot lately, about the upcoming High Holy Days. So often people will tell me that they can't find spirituality in the services because it's not the way it used to be, it's not their old rabbi, their old cantor, their old seat, their old prayerbook....whatever it is. And I'm sad for them. Because each year is a new year, each opportunity is a new opportunity, and each time we open ourselves up to the possibilities of something new, we let in those possibilities...for renewed spiritual connection, renewed faith, renewed intention, renewed relationships with each other and with God.
May this holiday season bring for each of us the possiblity of being open to new experiences, new ideas, and even...gulp...change. May we be able to live in the present, instead of in the past...always relishing our history, but knowing that what we have now holds its own blessings.
See more participants at Wrapped Emotions.
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Visiting the Mikveh - 13 Things I Loved About It
The Mikveh is a Jewish institution shrouded in mystery and confusion for modern Reform Jews (and probably some Conservative ones too!). The mikveh is defined as a ritual bath, used not for purposes of physical cleanliness, but rather ritual purity or spiritual cleanliness. According to the Wikipedia entry, (which is actually pretty accurate - thumbs up!)
Its main uses nowadays are:
by Jewish women to achieve ritual purity after menstruation or childbirth
by Jewish men to achieve ritual purity
as part of a traditional procedure for conversion to Judaism
for utensils used for food
It's the first one that makes many modern women crazy, the second that less people know about, the third that is the most well-known in most Reform circles, and the last that is also less well known. But what is not accurate in the Wikipedia entry is the brief entry about Reform Jews and their lack of use of the Mikveh for anything other than conversion. Okay, maybe this is somewhat accurate, but we are working on it! Organizations like Mayyim Hayyim in Boston are making mikveh more accessible to modern Jews.
Okay, so all that said...where am I going?
It is customary, in that second idea up there, that "men" go to the mikveh to achieve ritual purity. These days, anything the men can do, so can the women! Often, people (okay, men) will go to the mikveh before Shabbat or holidays in order to fully prepare themselves physically/spiritually. I've never used the mikveh in this way (I've only been once before, right before my wedding). This year, I decided to go to the mikveh to prepare myself for the High Holy Days. As a rabbi, I spend these weeks before the holidays stressing and preparing and basically running around like crazy and I rarely have the time to prepare myself in any meaningful way. (In an earlier post, I referred to teshuvah, which is the Hebrew word for repentance...the "work" of the High Holy Days)
So the mikveh it was for me...and to describe it, here is a list of
13 things I loved about it...
1. The quiet. It was in the evening, and it was dark. It's traditional to go at night to show humility and to increase privacy (of course, blogging about it doesn't make it too private, does it). It was quiet. I had a few moments before all to myself to breathe and just be.
2. The reminder. The mikveh lady (a technical term) reminded me of the special nature of this moment. She knows that I come all the time to the mikveh with conversion candidates but she reminded me to take my time, to pay attention to each item of clothing or jewelry or act like brushing my hair, to realize that this was more than just a shower and then a dip in the pool, and more than just getting ready for bed.
3. The words. I hummed the tune for Hashi-veynu, one of my favorite penitential prayers that we sing at our Selichot service this coming Saturday night. To me, that tune really "kicks off" the holidays. Hashiveinu Adonai elecha v'nashuva, chadeish yameinu k'kedem...Help us to return to You, O God, then truly shall we return. Renew our days as in the past. I felt like this helped to remind me why I was doing this.
4. The washing. As I washed my eyelashes (the purpose of the pre-immersion cleansing is to remove all "barriers" to the living waters of the mikveh, so you wash carefully all your crevices -- like blowing your nose and cleaning your navel -- and you wash the parts you might not normally wash, like eyelashes, as well as comb out all snarls and tangles in your hair so the water can fully reach every part of you.)...I thought of how unusual this was, and how much more special it made it, and different from other shower/washing/hygiene experiences.
5. The privacy. Once I was prepared for entry into the mikveh, the mikveh lady was so careful to ensure my privacy. She is required to "guard" my immersions and to help make sure I've gotten the stray hairs from my skin, but she takes such care to be modest and private about the experience. She takes the towel and holds it up in front of her face until I'm fully immersed in the water.
6. The water...ah, the water. It's warm and wonderful, embracing and uplifting. As I stepped into the middle of the small pool, I realized how deep it actually is -- just about my height! The water didn't weight me down, though, in fact, it buoyed me up, encouraging me to float. When I was prepared, I took my first immersion, deep under the water, spreading my fingers and toes to get water into every nook and cranny of my being...these living waters holding me up and filling me up with their powers of personal purification.
7. The second immersion...this is the one where the mikveh lady takes a step outside the room following the immersion to offer the dipper a few moments of personal prayer or meditation. It is a mitzvah to ask for something for yourself, and as I floated in the water, feeling how safe and warm and comfortable I was, I was reminded of the title of a book by Rabbi David Wolpe - "Floating Takes Faith" -- and I knew that to be there in that moment, I was truly renewing my own faith.
8. The third immersion. To say shehecheyanu, the blessing for a first time, it was as though I were new again, reborn so to speak. If you think about it, the last time we were so surrounded by water like this was in the womb...this is a re-creation of that living water, a chance to be spiritually re-born for this new year.
9. The exit. As I stood in front of the mikveh lady, with my back to her, she wrapped the towel around me. She is a very traditional lady, and she avoids personal touch throughout the whole process. But as she wrapped the towel around my shoulders, she gave my shoulders a little squeeze. It felt like a whole hug, as though she were giving me her most heartfelt wishes and prayers. I really believe that she feels that what she does is truly one of the most precious jobs in the world -- and she acts like it. This squeeze was, I feel, her way of telling me that. And I am grateful.
10. Getting dressed. I put on all my clothes, my jewelry, my contact lenses...and then I examined myself in the mirror. Am I different now? Somehow more pure and more ready for the holidays? I decided the answer is yes. I did look different. I looked relaxed and happy and ready to face the holidays with a whole heart.
11. The drive home. To know that I was going back out into a world unchanged, but I, I was different somehow. I felt more calm, more prepared. With Rosh HaShanah only one week away, I could face the moment with far more ease than I had felt all day long. I felt refreshed, washed clean.
12. The work. I'm not done with the work of teshuvah, repentance, just because I washed clean in the mikveh. Jewish life doesn't work that way! I still have the obligation to ask forgiveness and work on my own spiritual and personal faults and shortcomings. But somehow I feel that it will be made easier or more do-able for me after this visit to the mikveh.
13. The blogging. I was so excited for the opportunity to share this experience with those who read this blog as well as my other one, http://rabbiphyllis.blogspot.com, so I could share a different and new way of welcoming the Jewish New Year. As a rabbi, my preparations are often different than other Jews. This was a great moment for me to have a personal opportunity to expand my own spiritual practice.
See more Thursday Thirteen posts here...
Crossposted on http://rabbiphyllis.blogspot.com
Its main uses nowadays are:
by Jewish women to achieve ritual purity after menstruation or childbirth
by Jewish men to achieve ritual purity
as part of a traditional procedure for conversion to Judaism
for utensils used for food
It's the first one that makes many modern women crazy, the second that less people know about, the third that is the most well-known in most Reform circles, and the last that is also less well known. But what is not accurate in the Wikipedia entry is the brief entry about Reform Jews and their lack of use of the Mikveh for anything other than conversion. Okay, maybe this is somewhat accurate, but we are working on it! Organizations like Mayyim Hayyim in Boston are making mikveh more accessible to modern Jews.
Okay, so all that said...where am I going?
It is customary, in that second idea up there, that "men" go to the mikveh to achieve ritual purity. These days, anything the men can do, so can the women! Often, people (okay, men) will go to the mikveh before Shabbat or holidays in order to fully prepare themselves physically/spiritually. I've never used the mikveh in this way (I've only been once before, right before my wedding). This year, I decided to go to the mikveh to prepare myself for the High Holy Days. As a rabbi, I spend these weeks before the holidays stressing and preparing and basically running around like crazy and I rarely have the time to prepare myself in any meaningful way. (In an earlier post, I referred to teshuvah, which is the Hebrew word for repentance...the "work" of the High Holy Days)
So the mikveh it was for me...and to describe it, here is a list of
13 things I loved about it...
1. The quiet. It was in the evening, and it was dark. It's traditional to go at night to show humility and to increase privacy (of course, blogging about it doesn't make it too private, does it). It was quiet. I had a few moments before all to myself to breathe and just be.
2. The reminder. The mikveh lady (a technical term) reminded me of the special nature of this moment. She knows that I come all the time to the mikveh with conversion candidates but she reminded me to take my time, to pay attention to each item of clothing or jewelry or act like brushing my hair, to realize that this was more than just a shower and then a dip in the pool, and more than just getting ready for bed.
3. The words. I hummed the tune for Hashi-veynu, one of my favorite penitential prayers that we sing at our Selichot service this coming Saturday night. To me, that tune really "kicks off" the holidays. Hashiveinu Adonai elecha v'nashuva, chadeish yameinu k'kedem...Help us to return to You, O God, then truly shall we return. Renew our days as in the past. I felt like this helped to remind me why I was doing this.
4. The washing. As I washed my eyelashes (the purpose of the pre-immersion cleansing is to remove all "barriers" to the living waters of the mikveh, so you wash carefully all your crevices -- like blowing your nose and cleaning your navel -- and you wash the parts you might not normally wash, like eyelashes, as well as comb out all snarls and tangles in your hair so the water can fully reach every part of you.)...I thought of how unusual this was, and how much more special it made it, and different from other shower/washing/hygiene experiences.
5. The privacy. Once I was prepared for entry into the mikveh, the mikveh lady was so careful to ensure my privacy. She is required to "guard" my immersions and to help make sure I've gotten the stray hairs from my skin, but she takes such care to be modest and private about the experience. She takes the towel and holds it up in front of her face until I'm fully immersed in the water.
6. The water...ah, the water. It's warm and wonderful, embracing and uplifting. As I stepped into the middle of the small pool, I realized how deep it actually is -- just about my height! The water didn't weight me down, though, in fact, it buoyed me up, encouraging me to float. When I was prepared, I took my first immersion, deep under the water, spreading my fingers and toes to get water into every nook and cranny of my being...these living waters holding me up and filling me up with their powers of personal purification.
7. The second immersion...this is the one where the mikveh lady takes a step outside the room following the immersion to offer the dipper a few moments of personal prayer or meditation. It is a mitzvah to ask for something for yourself, and as I floated in the water, feeling how safe and warm and comfortable I was, I was reminded of the title of a book by Rabbi David Wolpe - "Floating Takes Faith" -- and I knew that to be there in that moment, I was truly renewing my own faith.
8. The third immersion. To say shehecheyanu, the blessing for a first time, it was as though I were new again, reborn so to speak. If you think about it, the last time we were so surrounded by water like this was in the womb...this is a re-creation of that living water, a chance to be spiritually re-born for this new year.
9. The exit. As I stood in front of the mikveh lady, with my back to her, she wrapped the towel around me. She is a very traditional lady, and she avoids personal touch throughout the whole process. But as she wrapped the towel around my shoulders, she gave my shoulders a little squeeze. It felt like a whole hug, as though she were giving me her most heartfelt wishes and prayers. I really believe that she feels that what she does is truly one of the most precious jobs in the world -- and she acts like it. This squeeze was, I feel, her way of telling me that. And I am grateful.
10. Getting dressed. I put on all my clothes, my jewelry, my contact lenses...and then I examined myself in the mirror. Am I different now? Somehow more pure and more ready for the holidays? I decided the answer is yes. I did look different. I looked relaxed and happy and ready to face the holidays with a whole heart.
11. The drive home. To know that I was going back out into a world unchanged, but I, I was different somehow. I felt more calm, more prepared. With Rosh HaShanah only one week away, I could face the moment with far more ease than I had felt all day long. I felt refreshed, washed clean.
12. The work. I'm not done with the work of teshuvah, repentance, just because I washed clean in the mikveh. Jewish life doesn't work that way! I still have the obligation to ask forgiveness and work on my own spiritual and personal faults and shortcomings. But somehow I feel that it will be made easier or more do-able for me after this visit to the mikveh.
13. The blogging. I was so excited for the opportunity to share this experience with those who read this blog as well as my other one, http://rabbiphyllis.blogspot.com, so I could share a different and new way of welcoming the Jewish New Year. As a rabbi, my preparations are often different than other Jews. This was a great moment for me to have a personal opportunity to expand my own spiritual practice.
See more Thursday Thirteen posts here...
Crossposted on http://rabbiphyllis.blogspot.com
Wednesday, September 5, 2007
Kosher Bacon? Works for Me!
So...this was not the original Works-For-Me-Wednesday post that I was going to use, but it works for me:-) to follow the "theme" set forth for this week's blog carnival.What brand works for me? I actually had to think long and hard about this because we're really not very brand-loyal in our house. The first thing I thought of was Costco, which isn't exactly a brand, but they do have their own house-brand which we buy a lot of...but then I thought of this one:
Yes...the brand that Works for Me is Morningstar Farms....maker of "fake" stuff -- chik'n nuggets, chik'n patties, sausage links, veggie burgers, corn dogs, and even...bacon. Yep, we eat the stuff like it's going out of style. Dominick's had a sale yesterday, I stocked up. This pic is of my upstairs freezer (I must admit I straightened up before shooting this picture). Downstairs....yep, there's more.
So it brings me to an interesting question/dilemma that plagues me and, perhaps more annoyingly, my husband. Does it "count" to be a vegetarian (for primarily reasons of keeping kosher) if we eat these "meat substitutes"? If I would never in a million trillion years eat a piece of real bacon (it's meat, but more importantly, it's not even remotely kosher), why would I eat this (kosher) substitute? And, in doing so, am I giving off the wrong impression that I might be eating something treyf (not kosher)? In Jewish custom, this is known as morit ayin, giving off a bad eye (loose translation) -- as in, someone could see me eating this "bac'n" stuff and think that it's "okay" to eat because I am an "authority figure" in Jewish life. But if I only eat in the privacy of my own home?
It really bothers my husband that I am a fan of the meat substitutes. I don't even really like most of these foods in their "real" form (some I've never even eaten) but here in the Morningstar Farms varieties...well, they work for me.
What do you think????
See more Works for Me Wednesday here at Rocks in my Dryer.
Tuesday, September 4, 2007
Mommy-ing
Rushing around to get everything done, I know that I am quite a picture as I march into Target, the baby in the sling, the toddler on my hip. We zoom around the store, singing songs and pointing out interesting things in the store -- toys, markers, shirts, diapers -- my almost-2-year-old repeating the words as I say them to him. The baby reaches for her brother and I gently move her hand away. The store is our playground this morning.
One day a week I am with these two. The other six days (except in the summer), I work outside the home. My job is wonderful, fulfilling, and thankfully, flexible. That doesn't mean it's not a lot of hours. So this one day, I treasure with them.
As we leave Target, the baby is almost instantly asleep, worn out from seeing the world from my hip. The bigger one is sleeping within 5 minutes. My first instinct is to wake him, jerk him out of that netherworld of dozing, so as to earn for myself a longer afternoon nap. My next is to watch him in the rearview mirror, loving his beautiful baby look as he sleeps. I turn the car and drive towards Starbucks instead of home. I order my coffee (iced, hazelnut syrup, splash of milk...the poor mama's latte) and drive slowly home. I park in front of the house and sit, breathing deeply, drinking coffee, listening to the soft sleeping noises of my two little ones... debating to take them inside, let them nap...and then the baby wakes up, slowly, quietly, and looks around. Her brother continues his beautiful sleep...and then it's over. He wakes up, and we move on with our day. My quiet moments are shattered but now we're moving...doing...being.
Booty (pirate), bubbles, and the bike...followed by a little bit of Elmo's World as we cool off from the heat outside. I sit on the floor and they battle over my legs, she is trying to crawl over them, he wants her spot. There's enough room for both, I try to say, but he will have none of it. I squeeze little toes and knees and fingers and tushies as they wrestle and writhe around the living room floor.
I am mommy...my very body belongs to them. They use me as a jungle gym, horsey, pillow, snack. Even when I'm at work, my thoughts are with them. Priorities? It doesn't even begin to describe it.
This post was written as part of MamaBloggas September Group Writing Project.
One day a week I am with these two. The other six days (except in the summer), I work outside the home. My job is wonderful, fulfilling, and thankfully, flexible. That doesn't mean it's not a lot of hours. So this one day, I treasure with them.
As we leave Target, the baby is almost instantly asleep, worn out from seeing the world from my hip. The bigger one is sleeping within 5 minutes. My first instinct is to wake him, jerk him out of that netherworld of dozing, so as to earn for myself a longer afternoon nap. My next is to watch him in the rearview mirror, loving his beautiful baby look as he sleeps. I turn the car and drive towards Starbucks instead of home. I order my coffee (iced, hazelnut syrup, splash of milk...the poor mama's latte) and drive slowly home. I park in front of the house and sit, breathing deeply, drinking coffee, listening to the soft sleeping noises of my two little ones... debating to take them inside, let them nap...and then the baby wakes up, slowly, quietly, and looks around. Her brother continues his beautiful sleep...and then it's over. He wakes up, and we move on with our day. My quiet moments are shattered but now we're moving...doing...being.
Booty (pirate), bubbles, and the bike...followed by a little bit of Elmo's World as we cool off from the heat outside. I sit on the floor and they battle over my legs, she is trying to crawl over them, he wants her spot. There's enough room for both, I try to say, but he will have none of it. I squeeze little toes and knees and fingers and tushies as they wrestle and writhe around the living room floor.
I am mommy...my very body belongs to them. They use me as a jungle gym, horsey, pillow, snack. Even when I'm at work, my thoughts are with them. Priorities? It doesn't even begin to describe it.
This post was written as part of MamaBloggas September Group Writing Project.
Monday, September 3, 2007
Moving Out of the Shadows - BSM
This is my favorite shot from this week (there were a lot, actually!) and I can't believe that because it's Labor Day, I almost didn't even realize that it's Monday...and I almost missed Best Shot Monday. So here I am, better late than never.
I love this picture not for its technical merits or even its beauty, but for what it signifies for me. As my son walked away from me on the playground on the first day of school, I shot this picture of him...and at first, I tried to get my shadow out of it. Until I realized that my shadow is exactly what he's walking out of.
Over the last few weeks, there have been a lot of comments on my blog by new visitors (hi there! thanks for coming!) asking questions or wanting to know more about my job as a rabbi and what that means. I can't tell you all about it in one blog post but I plan to continue to write about my life and perhaps more about being a rabbi (since it seems to be interesting -- and btw, I apologize to those who commented on my Thursday Thirteen last week -- I have been under the weather and couldn't respond!)...
Which is all a long way of explaining my shadow.... up until now, my son has always been in Jewish preschools/daycares. I have always been somebody -- I'm not just a mommy, but I'm also the mommy who is a rabbi. People ask for my advice or invite me to come in and speak. They have a sense that I'm involved on a higher level in the community (and in a sense, I am).
In public school, which my son started last week, I am not really anybody more than a mommy. Of course, the school is wonderful and I'm not implying that they are treating me or my son in any way badly. But for now, he is on his own. He doesn't have my shadow to trail around after him as "my mom is the rabbi." He has to leave my shadow behind. I cannot completely control his environment any longer.
And so this picture...which as I took, I knew, would be this post,
and as I took this picture, I knew it was true.
My little baby is growing up, moving out of my shadow.
May he forge his own path, and may it lead him to a life of great fulfillment.
See more Best Shot Monday here.
(ooh, and see my BSM button over on the right!)
Over the last few weeks, there have been a lot of comments on my blog by new visitors (hi there! thanks for coming!) asking questions or wanting to know more about my job as a rabbi and what that means. I can't tell you all about it in one blog post but I plan to continue to write about my life and perhaps more about being a rabbi (since it seems to be interesting -- and btw, I apologize to those who commented on my Thursday Thirteen last week -- I have been under the weather and couldn't respond!)...
Which is all a long way of explaining my shadow.... up until now, my son has always been in Jewish preschools/daycares. I have always been somebody -- I'm not just a mommy, but I'm also the mommy who is a rabbi. People ask for my advice or invite me to come in and speak. They have a sense that I'm involved on a higher level in the community (and in a sense, I am).
In public school, which my son started last week, I am not really anybody more than a mommy. Of course, the school is wonderful and I'm not implying that they are treating me or my son in any way badly. But for now, he is on his own. He doesn't have my shadow to trail around after him as "my mom is the rabbi." He has to leave my shadow behind. I cannot completely control his environment any longer.
and as I took this picture, I knew it was true.
My little baby is growing up, moving out of my shadow.
May he forge his own path, and may it lead him to a life of great fulfillment.
See more Best Shot Monday here.
(ooh, and see my BSM button over on the right!)
Sunday, September 2, 2007
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