Pure Spirit Creations

This blog has Moved! Vist Me at WordPress or at www.purespiritcreations.com

2008-09-18T12:13:00.001-07:00

This blog has moved to WordPress and is hosted on my website, www.purespiritcreations.com. To access the most recent posts or posts made since July, go to http://purespiritcreations.com/wordpress/.

See you there!

Living in the Unknown Zone

2008-07-15T23:26:00.000-07:00

Sorry for the long delay in posting. My website has been under construction, and we've had some trouble not only moving this blog but also converting it and all the old posts to Wordpress. We should be up and running on a regular basis again soon.

While my web master and I have been struggling with an unknown problem that has stopped me from being able to import all my Blogger posts to Wordpress -- and I surely don't want to leave all those old posts behind, I've also been struggling with the unknown in terms of my son. My last post was about him as well. Only then, we were getting his little light to shine. Now his light is dim again, but this time because he has been sick with an unknown illness. First we thought it was viral...then bacterial...then viral...then bacterial...then viral...now bacterial again. He went to camp -- his favorite thing in all the world besides dancing -- only to have to come home after 8 days and 3 days in the infirmary. He was home for 8 days, one of which was spent in the hospital. We even had a moment or more of thinking he might need surgery. Then, suddenly he was back at camp and seemed fine. Six days later, he was back home and sick again.

He rises with no fever. Then his temperature goes up. His eyes are red. His hands and feet have peeled. He has had pain in his hip. He has had a cough -- it came, it went, it came again. We've seen an orthopedic doctor. We've seen an infectious disease specialist. It's a mystery. We've done blood work, x-rays, MRIs. Nothing...well, a little anemia...then that was gone. A little problem with his kidneys...nothing to worry about. A little something called rickettsia, but we were told that wasn't the problem. Now he's being treated for microplasma with an antibiotic. His cough is better; his fever is higher.

As a mother, I spend my days and nights worried. I'm living in the unknown zone. It's unknown, because I've never been here before. It's unknown, because we don't know what my son has. It's unknown, because from day to day we don't know what my son's symptoms will be like.

And all I want is for my child to be healthy. I wanted him to go back to camp and enjoy his time there. He did. He came back sick. Now I want him healthy so he can start dancing again. I want him to be able to let his light shine. I want him to be okay...healthy, vibrant, able to do whatever he wants.

My sister has a daughter who has been ill since she was 11. She's 24 years old. They have diagnosed her with all sorts of ailments and diseases. No one has found the original source of her problems. No I understand what my sister and my niece have been going through. They have been living in the unknown zone for 13 years. I don't know how they have stood it.

I hate not knowing. And at times like these, although I pray, I have a hard time trusting. Fear finds a way to wiggle in to my mind and heart. And then I worry. I hate to worry. Worry does no good and creates no good. I try to be positive, to create with my thoughts, to do all I can to manifest answers and healing. But not knowing is so very difficult.

So, I can only see this time here in the unknown zone as a lesson in patience and trust. I have to trust the doctor to figure out what is wrong with my son. I have to trust that all of this has happened for a reason, including my son missing camp. I have to trust that not knowing right now in this moment is okay. I have to trust that soon I will know...that answers will come. I have to trust God...and not lose my faith.

This Little Light of Mine...Let it Shine.

2008-06-27T11:01:00.000-07:00

"This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine, let it shine." Do you remember that song?

I was thinking about it last night and told my son that he needed to sing it every day as his theme song. We've been talking about when he let his "light become dim." He's my dancer, and he used to get on stage and shine so brightly you couldn't take your eyes off of him. Then something happened, and he turned the dimmer switch. Maybe it's a developmental stage or maybe he was trying too hard to fit in at school -- to be like everyone else despite the fact that he is so different. In any case, something caused his light to dim, and now he's finding the dimmer switch kind of stuck. He's working on loosening it up and getting his light to brighten up a bit again.

Have you ever felt like that, like you've dimmed your light for some reason? I surely have. Sometimes I think I've dimmed mine to not outshine my husband. Sometimes I think I've dimmed it simply so people won't see the real me and, like my son, think I different and, therefore, not like me. Sometimes I think I turn my light off rather than be seen, because it's easier to remain hidden in the dark than to shine my light and be seen and to be judged -- to have someone say I'm not good enough.

There are lots of reasons to dim our lights. I'm tired of having my dimmer switch on. In fact, I think I'll tear mine out and put in a simple on/off switch. I'm going to suggest that to my son, too. What about you?

Then I think I'll get some good ol' Duck Tape and make sure my switch is taped into the "on" position.

You know why? Because it's time for this little light of mine to shine...and I'm gonna let it shine, let it shine, let it shine.

If you all join me, imagine what a bright world this would be.

I'm Back wtih Post Shavuot Thoughts

2008-06-12T14:59:00.000-07:00

After more than a one month absence, I’m back…sort of. I feel a bit like I’m only half here, since my life seems just a bit crazy still. You see, while I teach people how to live life fully, mine has just a bit over full lately and totally unbalanced. I admit it; all I’ve been doing is working.

Since I last blogged, I’ve reorganized and republished my Kabbalah of Conscious Creation booklet. I’ve prepared for a trip to Chicago, where I gave two talks and led one workshop. While there I did manage to visit two friends, whom I stayed with and another woman I knew and whose horses I used to ride. (I visited my favorite horse, too.) I also recorded a CD of meditations. I came back home to finish writing a book proposal and two articles and to finish helping my new webmaster totally redesign my website. And there have been small projects interspersed within these bigger ones.

My husband has also been traveling – even while I was in Chicago – and my kids have gotten sick (me, too), and my son has graduated from middle school, and we’ve had a huge wildfire near our house, and we’ve had some yard work done. The house, as you might imagine, is a mess inside and out. Thank goodness, my husband is still working at his new, new job, as I like to call it (the one he accepted after he accepted and the resigned from the other new job), so I can finally hire my every-other-week housekeeper to come back and help me clean up the mess inside the house.

All this to say, I’m sorry for disappearing for a month, but something had to go. The blog turned out to be that something. But now I’m back. But…

I missed Shavuot, the holiday when we celebrate receiving the Torah on Mt. Sinai. I was hoping to get around to writing this blog on Monday so I could say something about the holiday, but now it’s past. With my book, The Kabbalah of Conscious Creation about receiving as well as giving, it seemed appropriate.

Instead, I received information to help me open to receiving on Monday. That seemed appropriate. I had a session with a woman who is clairvoyant and does energy work from a distance. She helped me clear some old issues that were blocking me. Interestingly, it took me back to a past life with an old boyfriend. (Hi, Eddie…) Who would have thought not being chosen in this life time would relate to being chosen in another? Or that either of these incidents would some how be affecting my ability to have my work chosen by a publisher? Well, according to this woman, it was all energetically tied together. And in the process of going back over my teenage years and my relationship with this young man, I received an understanding that previously had evaded me. I received an understanding I didn’t even know I needed to have.

I also let go of a piece of my past, making room for something new to enter – a little bit of future.

And, interestingly, this information I received did tie in to Shavuot. For on that day when the Israelites were given the Torah, they truly became the so-called Chosen People, entering into a covenant with God. And as I was told, I, too, on this awesome holiday, was asking to be chosen, opening myself up to being chosen, and allowing my work to be chosen.

My book, which I released in its proposal form to my agent after my session that afternoon so some publisher might choose it and me, will offer readers a way to open to receiving. In fact, it also offers me a way of opening to receiving. And in my session, I was reminded that sometimes we have to open our hands (stop controlling) in order to receive. And sometimes we have to let what is in our hands go so that something else we want can be placed there instead.

So, I guess in a kind of round about way I’m writing about Shavuot after all. I’ve rambled a bit here and there, wandered like the Israelites in the desert, but I think I feel I’ve gotten clarity in the last month and begun to see my path a bit more clearly. After finishing the proposal, I see where I am going with my book project. I see my work clearly. On another front, I see the need for balance in my life clearly. I know where I’m going. I’ve received helpful information, and I’m open to receiving more. I’m also ready to be chosen for the task I desire to take on.

They say that all Jewish souls in existence today were at Mt. Sinai when the Israelites were given the Torah. Maybe that’s why this feeling feels so familiar.

Israeli Independence Day -- A Four Worlds Approach

2008-05-08T13:17:00.000-07:00

Today, Israel turns 60! My father helped her gain her independence, serving first in the British army as an officer and later in the first Israeli army. In fact, my maiden name, and the name I use for business (Amir) was a name he selected just after Israel's independence was declared and the officers of that first Israeli army were asked to take on Israel, rather than European, names. (His name was actually Rottman.) My mother also served in the Israeli army. My sister was born a Sabra in an Independent Israel. Besides my immediate family -- two sisters and my mother -- the rest of my family lives in Israel. So, I feel almost (not quite) as connected to this day almost as Israelis themselves.

My wish for Israel on this, her 60th birthday, is that she find peace. In light of that wish, I offer my interpretation of the most important Jewish prayer, the Sh'ma. "Sh'ma" means "listen" or "Hear."

Listen and hear, all of you who struggle to understand how we are all connected to the same God: The spark of God within you (and in others) and the flame of God that is all around you and in everything, it all comes from and returns to the same fire of God -- the original Source, one and the same.

May Israel today be blessed that all her people -- Jew and Arab alike -- reacha place of peaceful understanding and cohabitation despite differences of opinion and religious belief.

Additionally, in 2003, I wrote an anothology piece for Living Words V, A Source Book on Israel in a Time of Struggle, which was published by Sh'ma. I'd like to offer you a bit of that essay, which was meant to offer people a way to celebrate Israeli Independance Day, Yom Ha'Atzmaut, as a spiritual as well as a secular holiday. Maybe you'll find some of it useful today.

I created a “four worlds approach” to observing Yom Ha’Atzmaut, and each year I now invited friends over to observe the holiday with me in this manner. Beginning with Assiya, the world of doing, we select a charity that helps Israel. We place our contributions into a tzedakkah can and the money is later sent to that charity.

Combining this with B'riah, the world of thinking, we acknowledge that the Messianic Age has not yet come and discuss Israel current situation. We brainstorm solutions and action plans for peace.

We then move on to Yetzirah, the world of emotion, acknowledging our feelings about Israel, peace, God, and miracles. Some people bring articles, poems or essays on these subjects to read to the group.

Each guest brings to the celebration something that reminds them of Israel, such as a tallit purchased in Jerusalem or a piece of Israeli jewelry, and explains to the group why it connects them to Israel.

Afterward we join hands, close our eyes and move into Atzilut, the world of being and Divine connection, praying together: “Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheinu, ruach ha olam, Blessed are you God, our God, Spirit of the Universe, who gave us the Holy Land, Israel, home of our ancestors, home of all Jews even those residing outside its borders. Bless the state of Israel, the land of Israel, the people of Israel. May its borders know peace, its inhabitants tranquillity, and may the faith in our religion, the bonds of our shared heritage, and the wisdom of our tradition unite all Jews and become a source of light, strength and peace for all the world.”

We each offer our own blessings for Israel and the Jewish people. “Yevarech’ekha, may you, Israel be blessed with ____,” completing the prayer individually.

This done, we continue with a meditation: Remember the miracle of this day. The small, tired, ill-armed Jewish army defending its new homeland…and winning despite the odds. God gave the soldiers strength. Think of a time when you experienced a miracle…Think of a time when you felt God’s presence in your life...

Imagine yourself as a Jewish exile returning to Israel. How does it feel to know you always can come home to Israel? How does it feel to know a prophecy has been fulfilled…to be one step closer to the Messianic Age? Feel your hope for and faith in the promise of peace. Feel peace within yourself…Feel it radiating outward as you and God co-create peace…

We end by reciting, “Baruch ata Adonai, Eloheinu ruach ha-olam, shehasa nisim la-avoteinu ul'imoteinu bayamim haheim ba-z’man hazeh. We praise you, Eternal God, Spirit of the universe. You showed wonders to and performed miracles for our fathers and mothers in days of old at this season.”

I conclude my Yom Ha’Atzmaut observance with a seudat mitzvah, a ritual meal, consisting of Israeli produce, foods, flowers, and wines. Afterward, my guests and I enjoy Israeli songs and dances.

Thus, my kavanah, my intention, of observing Israel’s Independence Day in a meaning-full and spirit-full manner is realized. Now, each year I celebrate Yom Ha’Atzmaut not only as a commemoration of a secularly significant event but as a religiously and spiritually significant one as well.

Happy Birthday, Yisrael!

Affirmations of Action and My Response Column

2008-05-06T18:48:00.000-07:00

Back in the days when I was training to become a rebirther and was enrolled in a variety of workshops and classes offered the Loving Relationships Training, which is still run by Sondra Ray, I learned about something called my "response column."

Typically, when writing affirmations -- you know, those positive statements meant to help create change in yourself on a subconscious level -- we would include one column on the page for the affirmation itself and then another column for our "response" to the affirmation. That response represented the first thought we had to the positive statement we had just written.

For example, if I wrote the affirmation, "I, Nina, now experience perfect health," in my response column I might write, "But I have a headache." I would then write the affirmation again, and my response might then be, "Yeah, right, that's why I get at least three colds every year." You get the idea.

Why bother with a response column? It might seem that, contrary to the point of the exercise, instead of focusing on the positive you're actually focusing on the negative thoughts. Actually, by using affirmations with a response column, you allow your negative thoughts to surface. You acknowledge them and continue with the affirmation, effectively replacing the negative thoughts with the positive ones until eventually -- after days, weeks, sometimes months -- your response column begins to fill with positive responses, like, "Yes, that's true," and "I do, indeed, enjoy perfect health."

Sometimes, however, when we are making changes in our lives or doing things that push the envelop of that with which we feel comfortable, the world around us becomes our response column. Lately, that's been the case for me.

Recently, I pushed forward with a project of mine and managed to convince my literary agent to take on my Kabbalah of Conscious Creation book. As my literary agent left for New York City last Friday morning to begin a month of meeting with editors at publishing houses that will conclude with a trip to Los Angeles to attend the Book Expo America, where he will meet with more editors and publishers for several days, the possibility of my dream becoming a reality took hold. My positive action -- my affirmation of action, as Stuart Wilde likes to call it, began to develop a response column. The world began to bring me evidence of my negative thoughts. You see, although I want my book to be published, having it out in the world in a big way (and me with it) brings up some fear, especially given the book's topic -- generally speaking, it's about the Law of Attraction from a Jewish mystical perspective.

Every day I affirm through my actions that this book will be written with integrity and honesty and my highest desire to serve. Yet, in response, what have I most recently received? First, I received a package of articles written and published in newspapers and magazines by a rabbi adamantly opposed to the type of book I'm proposing to write. I'll just mention that I received these articles from him because a friend suggest that I write to him and ask to speak at his synagogue. He didn't get past the one topic related to my book (I have lots more) before he sent me a somewhat nasty email and then these articles, which discussed how horrible it is for unknowledgeable New Agey people (Like me?) to write about "energy" Kabbalah (Is that what I'm doing?). Needless to say, he declined to have me speak to his congregation.

I also received an article sent to my by my agent and published in the New York Times Magazine, which was written by someone who went to the Kabbalah Center and had some not so nice (and some nice) things to say about it's brand of Judaism and Jewish mysticism. (Most people I know and respect don't have anything good to say about the Center either...) I've never been there, but I admit I have some of their books. My feelings about them are mixed.

And I'm left staring at my response column -- It even shown up in written form! -- and wondering what to do with it. Well, actually, I know what to do with it. I will acknowledge that what has appeared simply represents my negative thoughts ("I'll be judged for my beliefs and thoughts." "Those I respect will judge me negatively." "People won't like me for who I am and what I believe and what I write.") And I'll continue making affirmations of action. I'll continue writing and moving forward with this project.

Today, I reorganized my booklet on the same subject and contacted another expert to ask for help. Yesterday, I worked a little on my book proposal. I've decided to write an introduction addressing some of these issues to put them out in the open. Soon, you'll see a new blog, which I've been creating, on the subject of the book and with the same title, The Kabbalah of Conscious Creation.

And you know what? Just before I finished this blog, I checked in on a Beliefnet forum (Kabbalah and Jewish Mysticism) to see if anyone had commented on something I'd written there. Lo and behold, someone told me they thought the work I was doing was wonderful! A positive response from the universe...

I guess that response column exercise worked well. It only took about a week to clear out the negative thoughts and to replace them with positive ones!

A Month Packed with Holidays: Lag B’Omer and Shavuot

2008-05-02T11:01:00.000-07:00

Two important Jewish holidays fall during the month of May: Lag b’Omer and Shavuot. However, the first is often overlooked by less observant Jews – and it is little understood by many. Maybe because many have found it hard to figure out what it’s really about.

I like the first holiday, Lag b'Omer, probably because it has a Kabbalistic bent and her in California my renewal group celebrates it with a bonfire on the beach and lots of drumming and singing and dancing. Most commonly, we are told that Lag b’Omer, which is celebrated this year on May 23, joyously commemorates great sage and mystic Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai’s yahrzeit (anniversary of his passing). Rabbi Shimon bar Yochai, who lived in the 2nd century of the Common Era, was the first to publicly teach the mystical dimension of the Torah known as the "Kabbalah," and is proportedly theauthor of the basic work of Kabbalah, the Zohar.

Why would we celebrate his death with festivities? On the day of his passing, after revealing many deep secrets of the Torah to his students, Rabbi Shimon instructed his disciples to mark the date as "the day of my joy." Also, the Chassidic masters explain that the final day of a righteous person's earthly life marks the point at which "all his deeds, teachings and work" achieve their culminating perfection and the zenith of their impact upon our lives. So, each Lag b’Omer we celebrate Rabbi Shimon's life, teachings and the influence they have had on so many people.

Many of those who live in Israel may visit Rabbi Shimon’s resting place in Miron on this, the 33rd day of the Counting of the Omer. According to the Torah (Vayikra, Parshat Emor, 23:15-16), we are obligated to count the days from the second night of Pesach to the day before Shavuot, seven full weeks. These 49 days represent the 49 days of preparation from the exodus from Egypt the receiving of the Torah at Mt. Sinai on the seventh day of Sivan. The Counting of the Omer is a lovely yearly tradition that takes you from Passover to Shavuot in a Kabbalistic, spiritual and deeply personal manner.

I like what Rachel Barenblatt, “The Velveteen Rabbi” (check out her blog at www.velveteenrabbi.com) has to say about it: “Literally, the name means "the 33rd day of the Omer." -- remember, "counting the Omer" means counting the 49 days between Pesach and Shavuot. Once upon a time, we counted the days between spring planting and spring harvest. More recently, we think in terms of counting the days between liberation and revelation, because we understand freedom not only as freedom-from but also freedom-toward.”

Other people celebrate the holiday with outings, bonfires and bows and arrows. Why a bonfire? The bonfire signifies the great light that came into the world with Rabbi Shimon. Additionally, the Zohar says that on the day Rabbi Shimon died, a great light of endless joy filled the day because of the secret wisdom he revealed to his students. That secret wisdom was recorded in the Zohar. The sun did not set until Rabbi Shimon had revealed all he was allowed to reveal, and as soon as he was finished, the sun set and he died. Supposedly a fire surrounded the house preventing any but Rabbi Shimon's closest students from approaching; this serves as another basis for the custom of lighting bonfires on Lag b'Omer.

As for the bows and arrows, some say that relates back to a plague that occurred during the Counting of the Omer. Supposedly, Lag b’Omer also commemorates the end of a plague that raged amongst the disciples of the great sage Rabbi Akiva "because they did not act respectfully towards each other" during the weeks between Passover and Shavuot. This time period, therefore, is observed as a period of mourning, with various joyous activities proscribed by law and custom. However, on Lag b’Omer, the dying ceased. That might be why children observe Lag b'Omer by playing with bows and arrows, a way of remembering the students who fought amongst themselves. (Rabbi Shimon was one of Rabbi Akiva's students who survived the plague.)

Barenblatt tells a different story: “Some say that what [Lag b’Omer is] really about is, Rabbi Akiva supported the Bar Kokhba revolt against Roman occupation. Many of his students followed him in supporting that revolt, and were killed. The so-called "plague" which ended on Lag b'Omer is a euphemism for the ill-fated rebellion. (In that case, kids play with bows and arrows as a symbolic re-enactment of the fight against Roman oppression.)”

Lastly, some people say that the manna which fell from heaven during the Israelites' wanderings in the desert began to fall on the 18th of Iyar, which is the 33rd day of the Omer, so maybe Lag b’Omer celebrates that.

This brings us to Shavuot, which falls on May 29 this year, the second of the three major festivals (Passover being the first and Sukkot the third). This holiday occurs exactly 50 days after the second day of Passover and marks the anniversary of the day when the Jews received the Torah at Mount Sinai.

The word "Shavuot" means "weeks." It marks the completion of the seven-week counting period – the Counting of the Omer – between Passover and Shavuot. During these seven weeks the Jewish people cleansed themselves of the scars of Egyptian slavery and became a holy nation ready to enter into an eternal covenant with God with the giving of the Torah. Every year on the holiday of Shavuot, Jews reenact this historic moment. God re-gives the Torah, and Jews lovingly reaccept it and reenter into their covenant with God.

I like thinking of Moses also receiving the oral mystical teachings of the Kabbalah on that day. All the wisdom inherent in Judaism was revealed on that mountain, and we are told that all the souls of all the Jews then and now were present at that time. What an awesome vision.

Starting a Spiritual Practice in a Practical, Sustainable Manner

2008-04-24T12:08:00.000-07:00

I recently subscribed to a blog written by a friend of mine, Arthur Kurzweil, an author, geneologist and magician. The blog, called "Let My People Know," which offers "Essential Steinsaltz," or daily teachings from Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz, author of one of my favorite books on Kabbalah, The Thirteen Petaled Rose, and modern Talmud commentator. Arthur has been a student of Rabbi Steinsaltz' for many years and even recently wrote a book about his travels with him, called On the Road with Rebbe Steinsaltz, which is a fun and educational read.

In today's blog post Arthur mentions that he has been corresponding with a man who wants to become "more Jewishly involved." He then offers a teaching from one of Rabbi Steinsaltz' books that talks about the fact that we can take on one or two practices to begin our spiritual practice; we don't have to do all the mitzvot, or commandments, at once. I was struck by this posting, because much of my writing and teaching stresses the same point.

In fact, my booklet, The Priestess Practice, 4 Steps to Creating Sacred Space and Inviting the Divine to Dwell Within It, discusses taking on Shabbat (Sabbath) candle lighting, which happens just once a week -- on Friday night -- as a spiritual practice. I've recently written an essay for an anthology on Shabbat candle lighting that takes the same angle.

When we get overwhelmed by feeling that we have to do too much or spend too much time on religious or spiritual practices to be religiously observant or to lead a spiritual life, many of us end up not doing anything at all. We simply say, "Why bother? If I can't do it all, there's no reason to do anything."

That's why I recommend practical spiritual practices. Short, sweet, easy prayers, blessings and rituals. These are things you can do all day long without really taking up too much time but that constantly remind you of God and connect you to the Divine. These types of spiritual practices are not only doable but sustainable. And that's the point. We want to be able to sustain our spiritual and religous practice. Not to start, become overwhelmed and stop.

Anyone, Jew or non-Jew can find such religious or spiritual practices to put to use in their daily life. However, if you are Jewish, Judaism is replete with many mitzvot and traditional practices that fit the bill.

Practical spiritual Jewish practices include saying the traditional morning blessings when you wake up in the morning, saying the blessing for washing hands, kissing the mezuzzah when you enter or leave your home, and saying the Sh'ma when you go to sleep.

Lighting Shabbat candles on Friday nights, a weekly rather than a daily spiritual practice, offers you a chance to take more time and to create a sacred space, invite the Divine Presence into that sanctuary and to little by little extend your practice into a larger and longer one -- the full 25 hours of Shabbat. However, you don't have to do that. If you have no desire to take on all of Shabbat as a spiritual practice, you simply can light the candles each week as an additional ritual during which you can use the prayers and observance as one more way to deepen your Jewish spiritual life.

You get the idea. Little spiritual practices all day long. Longer ones when you feel ready to commit to them.

Anyway, in case you'd like to see what Arthur wrote and to also read the excerpt he provided from one of Rabbi Steinsaltz' books, I've copied today's posting below. You can find "Let My People Know" and subscribe to it yourself at: http://essentialsteinsaltz.blogspot.com/. You an find out more about Arthur and Rabbi Steinsaltz on Arthur's website, www.arthurkurzweil.com. Tell Arthur I sent you!

"The Caterpillar Does Not Become a Butterfly in a Single Act"
Recently I’ve been in email correspondence with a young man who has asked me to help him in his process of becoming more involved Jewishly.
Today I found myself insisting that he track down and read Rabbi Steinsaltz’s extraordinary book Teshuvah: A Guide for the Newly Observant Jew.
My suggestion prompted me to go back and reread one of the most important chapters in the book for me personally, “All or Nothing: The False Dilemma.”
In that chapter Rabbi Steinsaltz writes:
"All or Nothing: The False Dilemma"
A person who, through neglect, develops a malady in one part of his body, need not, for the sake of consistency, neglect the other parts as well.
So it is with the mitzvot.
The question of “all or nothing” is also invalid from a human, personal point of view.
Though the ba’al teshuvah may wish to see himself as one reborn and to begin his spiritual life with a sense of wholeness, it is important for him to recognize that even in spiritual rebirth it is not possible to take on everything at once.
The people of Israel, in accepting the Torah, did not receive it all at one time. Rather, the process was a protracted one, from the early preparatory stage of the seven Noahide laws to the acceptance of additional mitzvot in Egypt, at Marah, and at Sinai, to the full revelation there that followed.
Similarly, a child raised to be an observant Jew takes upon itself the full yoke of the mitzvot only after long preparation; years of training and the gradual, step-by-step assumption of responsibility according to its intellectual readiness and practical capacity.The essential point is that living beings do not undergo sudden, complete transformations.
The caterpillar does not become a butterfly in a single act but as a result of a gradual process, governed by certain laws.
Within this process there appears to be a series of jumps between distinct stages, and these the ba’al teshuvah also must make from time to time.
But these transitions, too, are neither as quick nor as sharp as they appear.

--Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz
From Teshuvah: A Guide for the Newly Observant Jew, “All or Nothing: The False Dilemma,” pp. 18-19

From Lack to Abundance in One Fell Swoop

2008-04-21T10:09:00.000-07:00

I've been mulling over how one can seemly go from lack to abundance in one fell swoop. Maybe it's simply a mindset, though, a change in perspective.

My husband felt the lack of a job so profoundly for the four and a half months he was unemployed. He also felt the lack of any job opportunities. Then he landed a job. What do you think happened the following week? Not only did he receive several calls from head hunters and recruiters about possible job opportunities, but he also received a call from a former boss with a really great opportunity, which he is actually looking into despite the fact that he's just begun work.

Plus, whereas his dabbling in start up companies so far hasn't gotten him very far financially, the one he's gone to work for suddenly has some great deals in the works that might mean a fast sale. The other possible job could mean working for quick turn arounds, which means quick money as well.

There's abundance every where my husband looks if he opens his eyes to see it. He just needs to figure out how to take personal advantage of the abundance of opportunities and the abundance in general.

As for me, I have an abundance of viable book ideas. Actually, I have an overabundance of viable book ideas. The lack I have comes in the form of time to produce them and a perceived lack that there are no publishers to purchase my books. I say perceived, because some of the ideas have been turned down by large publishing houses and there are only so many small houses that cater to my niche. However, it is perceived...not real.

I need to figure out how to take personal advantage of the abundance of my ideas. I need to figure out how to make an abundance of time as well so I can write the books. I need to find an abundance of publishers, or at least just enough publishers, to buy my books -- and to pay me for those books.

In both cases, my husband's and my own, we need to be open to receiving all this abundance. We need to develop large containers to hold all the wonderful opportunities available to us.

How do we do that? First, (in light of Passover) by freeing ourselves from our perceived restrictions. We have to stop saying "I can't, I shouldn't, I won't, and I'm afraid." We begin, instead, reciting the words sung by Rabbi Gila Rayzel Raphael last night at the Chadeish Yameinu community seder I attended. We all sang together: "I will, I can, I know I should."

It is possible to do what we want and to have what we desire. We simply have to want it badly enough and be willing to change the perceptions that we can't have them, can't achieve it, aren't good enough, don't have the ability, aren't worthy. We have to want these things badly enough to move forward no matter what.

In my husband's case, he has to keep moving forward with the interviews despite the fact that he accepted a job, especially since the job culture where we live and in his industry is one of constant flux. And he has to believe he can create a situation in which he can take on situation all the way to fruition and then do the same with the next.

In my case, I have to believe that I can make time to write all my books and find publishers for them all and make money in the process. I have to then set out to do exactly that. I have to actually make the time, write the books and submit them (or have my agent do so). It's that simple.

Another way to increase the size and strength of our container and to open ourselves to receiving more abundance lies in giving. For me, that's easy. My writing involves giving to others. For my husband, he has to see that what he does is a way to give not only to employers but to those who use the end product of what the company manufactures. In addition, we can give in other ways, such as through tithing, charity work or anything that constitutes tikkun olam (healing the world).

Abundance is all around us. Lack is mostly in our minds. I'm not negating the fact that some people do, indeed, live in lack; their are people who don't have enough money to put food on the table or a roof over their head. Yet, the universe itself is abundant. With a little ingenuity and perseverance almost anyone that isn't too handicapped to take action can find a way to create abundance.

As Rebbe Nachman said, "Remember: Things can go from the very worst to the very best…
in just the blink of an eye." It's all in how we see things.

Living Fully and Weight Loss

2008-04-15T22:31:00.000-07:00

Someone recently told me about a web site with a name quite similar to my Living Fully Challenge, 12 Months to a Fully-Lived Life, so I had to go check it out. The web site, www.livingfully.com, seems to be primarily about weight loss. However, it's got lots of great resources for weight loss if you are interested and if you feel that losing weight will help you live your life more fully. Of course, health and wellness and fitness are indeed part of the Living Fully program, and I, for one, could use to lose a few pounds and get in better shape myself.

I have to admit that perimenopause hasn't been good to me in the weight department, and my work load has kept me from exercising regularly. I used to cycle at least 4-6 times per week, but I'm lucky to go once a week these days. I do try to walk at least once or twice a week, but that's really not much, and sometimes I forgo the walks for work as well. Lately, I haven't cycled because my wrists have been bothering me. I was afraid it was carpal tunnel syndrome setting in, but my doc says its "overuse." So, I need to take breaks and at least walk. Cycling might not be the best thing for my wrists. And in the process of exercising a bit more, I might drop a few pounds -- and live my life a bit more fully to boot!

Anyway, I thought you might enjoy the LivingFully.com principles. They are right up the same alley as those I talk about in the Living Fully Challenge, so I thought I'd share them with you. I couldn't copy them here, but you can access them by going to http://www.livingfully.com/10_Living_Fully_Principal.pdf.

Also, I've been listening to some great shows on Conversations with Ms. Claus (www.thefamilyyak.com). I know she has me on her pod cast once a month now, but she's got some pretty awesome guest these days besides me -- and they don't all talk about Christmas either. (You know I don't...well, I do talk about Christmas and Chanukah and Easter and Passover and Valentine's Day and the High Holy Days...and all the holidays!) These guest talk about relationships, the Law of Attraction, laughter, and so many other things. And they always offer great tips for living our lives more fully and more positively. So, if you haven't subscribed to Conversations with Ms. Claus yet, I suggest you do so now and start downloading her pod casts to your Ipod and listening while you drive or exercise (!) or work. Plus, you won't want to miss some of the guest she'll be interviewing in the coming months. I can't tell you who they are, but they've written some super books and you'll definitely recognize their names.

I know this blog was a bit like a commercial. Sorry, but I really hope you will enjoy the information and find it useful.

Of Narrow Places and Miracles...Using the Energy of Passover

2008-04-12T17:14:00.000-07:00

I've been living in a few narrow places. That's what the Hebrew word for Egypt, Mitzrayyim, means. Narrow Place. When Passover comes along we have to look at where in our lives we've struggled with our own narrow places. I don't have to look far this year to see mine.

My husband has been without a job for several months. That represented a very narrow place. Living in California with not much money in a savings account and a huge mortgage and very little income definitely made us feel as if we were being squeezed from all sides. However, this week he began a new job. The possibility of a job and then the job offer felt like the Red Sea parting. Negotiations and waiting for the deal to be sealed represented the crossing on dry land with the waters threatening to descend at any moment. And now we are standing on the other shore looking backward and looking forward, able to heave a sigh of relief, to take a deep breath and move forward once again.

Our relationship has suffered in the process, my husband's and mine. He has lost his faith. Mine has been strengthened. I married a man with whom I thought I'd always share a spiritual path. Now, I'm not sure we will ever share that path again. This place in our 20-year marriage feels like a narrow one. I feel I'm living in Mitzrayyim, not necessarily enslaved but restricted, unable to express myself fully, unable to share totally, unable to open myself with abandon to the man I love. I feel squeezed, as if sometimes it's hard to breath in my relationship. I stand at the edge of the sea hoping for a miracle. All I have right now is the promise that my husband will work on some of his issues and my promise to try and move forward together despite our differences in beliefs and approaches to life. I can't yet see the other shore. I'm willing to walk into the water, like Nachshon, who walked into the sea when it didn't part for Moses and whose faith brought about the miracle that saved the Israelites. I have faith that it will part, but I don't know what I'll find on the other side of the sea. I wish Moses' staff and God's will would create a miracle for me and return my husband's faith. I don't want to walk to the other side alone. I know God will be with me, but it's human companionship I desire as well.

I've been in a narrow place at work as well, feeling restricted by the publishing world's requirements and lack of time and support to do what my agents and publishers require for me to achieve my own goals. I've felt that I couldn't do what I wanted in the way I wanted and at the time I wanted. I was ready to change directions, to tell the literary agent I sought for so long that I had to follow my heart and find another agent that would take my project and run with it now, right now. And then the water parted before my eyes, and my agent agreed to take on my project and to help me find a publisher for it. A miracle. Now I just needed to get to the other side of the sea.

I find myself in a new narrow place between one shore and another. (Do they just follow one after the other?) I am afraid to move forward with this project that lies so close to my heart. (This narrow place is of my own making. It exists in my mind. It's the "Not Good Enough" thought that underlies so much of what I do and that holds me back. Do you have that thought?) I'm afraid to put myself out there. I have to speak my truth, and I am afraid. I know this narrow place. I know this fear. It has stopped me often, but I know that it is the trepidation that comes when I am on the right path, the path I am meant to take. This time, I must enter the water myself and create the miracle. I must move through my fear and towards my highest purpose. As I do, the water will part and my path will become clear. Then I'll find myself on the other shore, free, unrestricted, liberated, and successful. When I can fulfill my purpose, write my book and have it published, I will feel the expansion of who I am -- to myself and to others. (Not that I couldn't use another miracle. Not that a little Divine help wouldn't be nice in the area of finding a publisher and a publishing contract and an advance.) I'll keep walking with faith that on the other side the other miracle awaits.

Narrow places. How well I know them. How freeing it is to move beyond them. Miracles. Lovely to experience and to create.

Do you know your Mitzrayyim? Do you know how to squeeze out of your narrow place and into a more expansive place? Passover is just a week away...Use the energy of the holiday to help you create your own miracle of liberation. I'll be liberating myself, praying for miracles while walking, step by step, into the water, my faith helping bring those miracles into my life. I hope you will be doing the same.

Freedom to Live Your Life Fully this Passover

2008-04-02T21:00:00.001-07:00

I was just reading a blog by Rachel Barenblat (http://www.velveteenrabbi.com/) that made me think about living fully this Passover. She comments on a recent posting by Reb Zalman Schachter-Shalomi called Toward Freeing the Seder, in which he takes the fifteen steps of the basic seder structure and offers creative suggestions for making each of them one's own. For anyone who has ever sat through a boring seder, the home service conducted on this Jewish holiday, you know that creative suggestions often are much needed. Reb Zalman is a genius when it comes to this sort of thing -- and in general. So, take a look at his post. It's well worth your time. I printed it out for my own use, and you can be sure that elements of it will show up during my seder.

Among other things, Rachel chose to highlight the section Reb Zalman wrote about the Four Questions, and I just loved the idea of doing this section differently. In fact, Reb Zalman's suggestions made me start thinking about how well these questions play into my Living Fully Challenge. Here' s what he says about the Four Questions:

Use your pencil and paper to jot down your four questions. What are
they?

Or your four questions about Judaism.

In other words, if I want to get some answers to my questions this
night, what are my real questions, the ones I want answered?

Mah nishtanah halyla hazeh? Why is the night different? And
what about life? Why is life different from what I expected? Jot
down four "Differents," four "It isn't as I had thought it would be"-s.

Rachel commented: "Imagine using those four questions in your seder, questions that arise out of who you are this year, in this moment, as this festival unfolds! How would that change your experience?"

I think I'll ask participants at my seder to answer, "How am I different this year." And, given that the topic of discussion in general revolves around freedom, "If I were free, how would I choose to be different?" By that I mean, if nothing were holding you back -- finances, ego, doubt, family, boss, time, etc. -- how would you change? I'm not necessarily talking about external situations now, because those issues would be gone. If nothing were in the way of you being the best you possible, who would you be?

Of course, the question that logically follows is: Can I be that person now despite what I perceive to be holding me back? Can I be free to live my life fully right now?

Now, whether you are Jewish or not, you can ask yourself these questions. You don't have to participate in a Passover seder, nor do you have to wait for Passover or a seder to ask these questions. In fact, ask away right now if you want!

To read all of Rachel's blog, go to http://www.velveteenrabbi.blogs.com/. She's also got a Passover haggadah of her own. Check it out. Plus, she's a great poet.

Singing the Blues

2008-03-31T21:47:00.000-07:00

Remember that old song, "Can't live, when living is without you. Can't live, can't live any more!" I don't know who sang it, but today the words are running through my mind with a slight variation on the words. "Can't live, when living is focused on you."

Yeah, that's right. I admit it. I've been so damn focused on where my husband "is" right now with his spiritual path (or lack thereof) and his attitude towards life and his beliefs about God and about life, that I've not been living my life at all. In fact, I've been miserable. And I've been making him miserable. And I've been making our relationship miserable.

I'm a total believer in the fact that what we focus on expands. I know that when I am thinking about red convertibles, I definitely see more red convertibles on the road. Even if I'm not "creating" them, I'm more aware of them. In my own perception, I perceive more of them. It's now different in my relationship experience and in my life experience. The more I focus on what I don't like about how my husband is living his life and about how he is thinking and what he is believing, the more aware I become of all of this. And the more upset I become about it. And the more I see of it, and the more miserable I become. And that surely does not lead to me living my life fully at all.

So, while I was walking with a friend today, she basically told me to let my husband have his own spiritual path. She said he might not look like he's on one right now, but his questioning and his disbelief might really just be one stop on his spiritual path. She reminded me that consciousness and spirituality are all about questioning and reevaluating and coming to new understandings of our beliefs. So, if he is angry and feeling like a victim, if he want to shout at God or not believe in God, if he wants to not believe in anything right now, maybe that is just part of his spiritual path. Maybe, like Jacob, he is wrestling with God right now, or needs to. And, she said, I should be compassionate and loving until he finds his way or comes to a new understanding.

Okay. Got it. I've been one complaining, unhappy, judgemental, impatient wife (there's another word I could use, but I won't.) -- and not too spiritual either. And I've been spending all my time focused on him rather than on me, focused on what I perceive as not working, not right, not what I want rather than on what is working, what is right what is working.

Time to focus on what enlivens me, on what brings life into our relationship, on what helps me live fully. Maybe in the process, it will help him do the same. In either case, I'll stop singing the blues.

Pulling the Weeds of Your Life

2008-03-30T20:41:00.000-07:00

Every spring I'm faced with a daunting task: I must pull enormous amounts of weeds that grow on my large rural property. I live in the Santa Cruz Mountains on about four acres of land. Not all of that land has been cleared or is usable. However, the area around the house has, of course, been cleared and there is a path that leads to an area where a house was once supposed to be built that has also been cleared. This area, which runs all the way to the edge of our property, contains a small orchard and a fenced garden, as well as a small "cottage." All the land between and around our house and the edge of our property becomes totally overgrown with a variety of weeds and wild grasses every year. This includes my fenced garden. Last year we managed to put mulch the pathway, and that did stay somewhat weed free, but this year it has once again turned into a path of weeds as the rains have stopped and the sun and warm weather have heralded in spring.

And so begins my spring work: pulling weeds. Huge heaps of weeds. I pull weeds each weekend until my hands and arms are so sore that it becomes difficult on Monday to hold a pen or to type on my keyboard. I pull so many weeds that The piles are knee high until I haul them off, wheelbarrow after wheelbarrow to the mulch pile. I dump them over the edge of a hill. It used to be along way down to the bottom of the mulch pile, but after three years of dumping on this "pile," the pile has made it's way all the way to the top of the hill. I've actually extended our property by about a yard of decomposing weeds.

This year I began early, and the weeds are still short by comparison to most years. They don't yet even come up to my knees. Other years, I've waited until June and they have been shoulder high. The first year I weeded the fenced garden, my husband couldn't see me among the weeds.

As I spent the third day pulling weeds, I began to think about how many weeds I pull -- and even if I pull them before they go to seed -- some still seem to reseed and come back the next year. It struck me that some issues in my life take the same course. I work on them and think I've got them fixed (pulled), but they sprout up again at some time in the future. And then I have to work on them once again. If we push the issues down and ignore them or try to cover them up, they always rear there heads as well. (Two years ago we put down a fabric weed guard, but this year the weeds had either come up around the edges or simpled begun growing in the mulch on top of it.)

Of course, I could use some weed killer, which would poison the plant all the way to the roots. I don't have this choice with my personal issues. I can't treat it with an issue killer. I can't pull or dig it out. I have to actually find a way to resolve it or come to terms with it in some way that ensures it won't "grow" back.

My question as I pulled weed after week was simple: Is there a way to ensure that our issues don't come back once we think we've resolved them? Or do we have to resign ourselves to dealing with them over and over again, year after year, just like the weeds that grow on my property?

I think some issues we resolve well enough that, for the most part, they don't "grow back." Maybe we work on them hard enough that we managed to get out ever last bit of root or we pull it out enough times before it goes to seed that no seeds are left to sprout. But other issues simple are harder to eradicate. Just when you think they are gone, you find a little shoot trying to find the sun. You have to take a good look at it again, deal with it in some way, and then hope that this time you really did get rid of it.

Sometimes, the process of trying to get rid of the issue makes things worse temporarily, such as when I have to pull out poison oak. If I'm not careful, the plant touches my skin and for several weeks I'm itchy in those places. My skin is irritated. Problems and issues that arise time and time again can cause the same kind of reaction, seeming bigger than the last time, more aggravating than before, until we learn a better way to resolve it or move through it.

So, I suppose our personal issues and problems are just the weeds of our life, and we must resign ourselves to having to occasionally -- or continually -- deal with them in one way or another. Over time, the number of weeds we have to pull gets smaller and smaller, but the garden of our lives, like any garden, will probably always have at least a few weeds that sprout up and require our attention.

Purim: When Laughter is More Healing than Chicken Soup

2008-03-21T09:39:00.002-07:00

Last night as I sat in temple and watched a parade of different costume-clad people read and chant in a variety of unique, creative and humorous way from the Megillat Esther, I realized an important reason why on Purim we are supposed to in some way blur the difference between evil Haman and the good Mordechai in the story. My husband had just asked me on the way to the holiday service, why people drink alcohol on Purim, and I had explained that it was for just that reason, but he wanted a deeper explanation. I'd given him one that was too philosophical for both our tastes, but by the end of the service, I had one that related directly to life and to my own belief system.

(If you don't know the history behind the holiday of Purim, Google it and you'll find a good synopsis. Basically, Haman wanted to kill the Jews. Mordechai, a Jew, tells Queen Esther, also a Jew, to tell the King, who doesn't know he married a Jew. She does. The Jews are saved. On Purim, Jews dress up in costumes to remember the "hidden" aspects of this story and they read aloud the historical account.)

Every day we struggle with the evil in our lives. We may see evil as yucky neighbors, debt, a terrible boss, an abusive spouse, ill health, loneliness, war, politicians, bills we can't pay... Each of us has our own Haman -- or Hamans. What happens, however, as the line blurs between evil and good, between Haman and Mordechai? We can no longer tell what is good and what is evil. If we can't tell, then it could be either good or evil, right? However, what we realize is that it all comes from one Source. As we read in Devarim (4:35), "Ein ode milvado." Which means, "There is nothing but God." It's all God. Haman and Mordechai, good and evil. All God.

We are taught in Kabbalah that nothing is a coincidence. So, it was no coincidence that Esther ended up in that palace as queen at that particular time. It was no coincidence that previously her uncle Mordechai had overheard a plot to kill the king and had told Esther, so the kings life had been saved. It was no coincidence that all these things led up to the events that we now celebrate on Purim -- Esther's saving of the Jewish people.

Kabbalah also teaches us that at this time, goodness is concealed. It's masked just like the masks we wear on Purim. Everything we go through in our lives, including our experience of what we call evil, leads us to spiritual transformation. Thus, evil shows up in our lives for a reason. Haman knocks at the door not by coincidence but on purpose.

What should we do when we open the door and find him there instead of Mordechai? Laugh. That's when the transformation occurs. That's when the line between good and evil begins to blur, and we realize there is no good and no evil. There is only God. And then we can laugh with joy.

I sat in the sanctuary laughing for two hours last night as the megillah was read. I saw friends in hilarious costumes cracking jokes and offering sacrilegious commentaries on the text. I sang funny songs. I heard Hebrew chanting done to melodies from to old peace songs. And we yelled and booed at Haman and cheered for Mordechai and even acknowledged the Esther and Vashti when there names were read. We had fun. We laughed and laughed and laughed. And as we laughed, it became hard for me to see the difference between my personal Hamans and my Mordechais. My worries about money disappeared, and I felt abundant. The tension between my husband and I dissipated for that amount of time, and I enjoyed his presence next to me and his shoulder pressing against mine. The stress I have felt about work left my body and my mind, and I felt peace and joy come over me in its place. The laughter was more healing than any bowl of chicken soup could ever be.

And maybe that's the important reason why we dress up in costumes and do silly things on Purim. The story of Esther commemorates a time when things looked dire for the Jews, but it turned out just fine. Often our lives look dire in one way or another. When we celebrate Purim with vast amounts of joy and laughter, we realize that things can be fine. In fact, they are more than fine in that moment. In that moment, they are joyous. We are joyous. All the evil is transformed into good, and we get to feel the wondrous healing that brings into our lives.

No wonder so many rabbis and sages have spoken about the importance of Purim. God's hand in the story may be hidden. It may seem like a story about man's hand in events, but it's really both. And by taking hold of our ability to act -- to choose to be happy and joyous -- we allow ourselves to experience transformation and to connect with the concealed part of what goes on in our own lives -- God.

So, give me a bowl of laughter over chicken soup any day of the week.

24 Minutes by the Ocean

2008-03-16T15:10:00.000-07:00

Living fully today meant taking myself to the ocean if only for the 24 minutes I was allowed to leave my car parked in its parking spot. (Yes, the meter only allowed me to pay for 24 minutes.) It also meant paying myself for time spent preparing for a workshop and showing up to teach it even though no one showed up.

I admit it: I was depressed today. I had worked really hard to get ready for the Saturday night class and workshop. In fact, I gave up Shabbat to prepare my for both, because I had too much work during the week to do so. I can't say I had focused a lot of time and energy on creating a huge crowd at either the class or workshop prior to Saturday. I had done some advertising, but I hadn't focused my thoughts. I hadn't used my own Kabbalistic conscious creation process except in short spurts. I had, however, spent all day Saturday preparing. And for my efforts (minimal, I suppose...) I had one student on Saturday night and none on Sunday.

So, I drove myself to Aptos, CA, the next town over, and parked in a 24 minute parking spot. I put my money in the meter and first went to a little metaphysical shop down the street. There I purchased a beautiful amethyst bracelet. Payment for my time and effort, I rationalized. A gift to myself for putting myself out there, working hard, being willing to offer the class, trying to realize my dreams, wanting to share with and help others.

I walked back to the car. The meter had already run out. I put more money in the meter and bought myself another 24 minutes. Quickly I walked to the beach and sat on some rocks and looked out across the green, blue water to Monterrey.

The ocean always makes me feel better. I love the ocean and wish I had more time to walk and sit by its shore, to spend time writing while I listen to the music of its waves against the sand and the gulls in the air and the sea lions near the pier, to meditate with the surf as my mantra, to read and rest and rejuvenate. My busy life more often than not precludes me getting to the ocean as much as I'd like, although I can be at the shore in under 20 minutes. My favorite local beach is only about 30 minutes away.

So, while I could have let life bring me down today, I decided to live a little...to be good to myself. The bracelet will remind me of my efforts and the purple stones will offer me their energy every day. The trip to the beach was the real treat that lifted my spirits, reminded me of the goodness life has to offer, and reconnected me with something greater than the little disappointments in life.

Sitting there on that rock I remembered that the Source of that vast ocean and that beautiful piece of land on the horizon and the wind in my hair and the sun on my face was also the Source of the creative power within me. My desire to give back what I have learned -- to teach -- allows me to tap into that Source, which wants only to give goodness to me. I need only learn how to receive it, and to let it flow like the ocean waves. In and out. Receiving. Giving.

Just as God exists in everything, God exists in my experience this day...even in the empty classroom and my disappointment. God lies in the free will I was given to choose what to do with that experience, how to respond to it. My first response was to drive to the ocean and park the car for 24 minutes.

It's amazing what 24 minutes at the ocean can do for you. When I go to bed tonight, I'll see myself on that rock by the ocean, I'll touch the stones of the bracelet, and I'll know that today I lived my life a little bit more fully.

It's Adar: Be Happy, Don't Worry

2008-03-13T23:11:00.000-07:00

Two days ago I helped lead a Rosh Chodesh group to welcome in the Jewish month of Adar. Actually, Adar 2. We sometimes get to celebrate the month twice as a way to catch up since our days get a bit off after a while. I don't feel like explaining how that works right now... My mind is too filled with worry, and I know that now, during Adar, I'm supposed to be happy. In fact, during Adar, happiness is supposed to increase.

But my mind says, "NO! It's time to be worried and depressed." Well, I look at my husband, who has been without a job for three months and is worried and depressed, and it's hard for me to be otherwise. I just paid bills when we have no income, and it's hard for me to be otherwise. I look at all the work on my desk and realize how little of what I do brings in any money, and it's hard for me to be otherwise.

"It's Adar," I remind myself. "Don't worry. Be happy." (And the reggae melody begins to play in my head.) So, how can we be happy when life seems to give us good, solid reason to be worried and depressed, disturbed and sad, distressed and melancholy? I try to remember the wisdom of Rebbe Nachman of Bratslov, my Jewish life coach, my human potential teacher, my spiritual mentor.

He said, "Depression does tremendous damage. Use every ploy you can think of to bring yourself joy." He even said to be silly if need be, but I'm not a very silly person. I can, however, focus on the good things that happened to me today. Like the fact that I got another great dancer to sign on to my dance book project. And I was told that I am a maggid, something I didn't know about myself. And that I made contact with someone I want to interview for an article I'd like to write. Focusing on those positive things instead of the negative things in my life make me happy.

Rebbe Nachman also said, "Never despair! Never! It is forbidden to give up hope." I love this morsel of wisdom. Any why should we never give up hope? Because, he said, we must remember: "Things can go from the very worst to the very best...in just the blink of an eye." I always keep that in mind -- or try to. (I didn't do such a good job today.) When I do, I know that tomorrow, my husband could get that call that leads to a new job. The next time I check my e-mail, I could find that I've been contacted by a new editing client. The phone could ring this minute and I could be told that I'm about to receive an advance on a book. You just never know what goodness God is going to flow your way at any given moment.

"You have free will," Rebbe Nachman also taught. "You have the power to escape from the painful discussions and worries of your life and to trust in God, to abandon the struggles of this world and focus instead on spiritual study." It's easy to understand that we have free will, and I'm a big believer in our ability to choose where we focus our thoughts. We can certainly shift our focus from our worries and pain to something more positive by simply choosing to study spiritual texts or to read books that are spiritually uplifting. This places our focus on God. In so doing, we regain our faith in God. We remember that God's hand is in everything. Ein ode milvado. (There is nothing but God.) It's all God -- the good and the bad. Gam zu l'tovah. (This too is for the good.) Even what we perceive as bad is also for the good. We may not know why, but we know it is of God. Focusing on God brings us back to center, gives us our equilibrium once again, allows us to find joy and happiness within our faith.

This brings us full circle to another of Rebbe Nachman wonderful quotes. "Always remember," he said, "Joy is not merely incidental to your spiritual quest. It is vital." Why? Because when we are sad or depressed, we often lose sight of God. My husband loses sight of God -- has lost sight. He has no faith that things will get better at any moment, that God's hand is in the events of his life. He feels lost and alone, and the more depressed he becomes the less of God he sees. When we are joyful, it's so much easier to see God, to feel God, to appreciate God.

So, when Adar comes we must take advantage of the energy of the month...and the second month, too. We are given the opportunity for increased joy, and we must take it even when our lives seem to be giving us good reason to feel quite the opposite. It's hard sometimes; believe, me, I know. But, as the Rebbe would say, “If you don’t feel happy, pretend to be. Even if you are downright depressed, put on a smile. Act happy. Genuine joy will follow." That's right. Fake it 'till you make it. I'm sure gonna give it a try.

What Does Not Living Your Life Fully Cost You?

2008-03-12T14:51:00.000-07:00

It’s been over a month since I last blogged. I should be flogged! But I won’t dwell on the negatives of why I haven’t blogged. Suffice it to say, I’ve been busy.

Too busy to write. Too busy to bicycle. Too busy to read. Too busy to relax. Too busy to garden. Too busy to clean my house. Too busy to do yard work. Too busy to do some of what I want to do and some of what I need to do. To busy to live my life the way I’d like to live it.

Which brings me to my point. Last month on my website I began a challenge: The Living Fully Challenge, 12 Months to a Fully Lived Life. The idea behind it is simple: Not living our lives fully costs us something. What is that cost? It’s different for each of us. Some might pay with peace of mind, leaving them with worry and stress. Others might pay with happiness, leaving them sad or depressed. For one person the cost might be health and for another connection; these people end up holding only illness and loneliness when the day is done. For someone else, the cost might be their dreams, leaving them empty and without hope of ever achieving their potential or their desires. No matter the cost, not living our lives fully costs us something. And each day, each moment that we don’t live to the fullest extent represents one more payment we don’t want to make, one more payment for which we can’t ever reimburse ourselves.

I’ve had to really look at this idea very closely not only because I had the bright idea to pose this challenge, which meant I had to write the assignments to go with it (and do them as well), but also because my husband has been out of work for a few months now and my income has been pretty minimal as well. Lack of money always seems to make living life fully a bit problematic. Maybe that’s why the first Living Life Fully assignment I posed involved having fun with finances…

Plus, I don’t ever seem to have the time to do the things I want to do. Lack of time and money are real show stoppers when it comes to doing things you want to do, and it often seems like living fully revolves around doing things we enjoy.

That said, it seems to me that there are some very small ways in which we can begin living our lives fully every day (even with little money or time). The point is to go to bed each night and to be able to acknowledge and feel grateful about at least – at the very least – one thing we’ve done that day that made us feel happy and alive. And we can fit that thing into our busy days and into our work and into our driving kids here and there and into our paying the bills and into our conversations with others. How do we do that? I hope to explore that a bit in my blog over the next 12 months – maybe not in each blog but at least once each month as part of my own challenge.

And as part of living more fully myself, I’m committing to writing my blog more often. Writing makes me feel more alive. Writing represents my life’s purpose. When I write, I am on purpose, enlivened and energized. I want to write more! So, I can live more fully each day by committing to write more – even if it is simply by blogging.

Some small things I know I can do include walking out to my garden to see what’s growing or to pick a flower or pull a weed (or two or three); lighting a candle and incense and putting on music each morning before I begin work; taking even five minutes in the morning to write in my journal and even less in the evening to write down the things for which I’m grateful; reading even a few pages of a book each day; and saying something nice to someone I care about. These don’t sound like they’d contribute much towards living my life fully, but with the little I’ve been doing most recently they’ll make a huge difference, I’m certain.

Here are a few larger things I’m committing to do – maybe not every day but every week – so that I go to bed more often able to acknowledge that I did, indeed, live more fully:
ride my bike or walk with a friend
-- spend time in conversation with God
-- do something I simply want to do
-- communicate honestly
And, I’ll continue taking the time to do the challenge exercises! Who wants to join me?

What’s the point of living if you aren’t living fully? God didn’t place us here on this earth in these bodies to not experience life on this plane to the fullest extent. We are meant to experience all that live has offer and that this physical plane has to offer. (Yes, that means the good and the bad.) We are meant to experience all that we can spiritually and metaphysically as well. We are meant to experience it all!

Even people in wheelchairs and with terminal illnesses can live fully in their own way. I know a woman just about the same age as I am who was recently diagnosed with terminal cancer. I look at her and wonder if she regrets now not having lived her life more fully. I wonder if she is living it to the fullest extent that she can now. We must all approach our lives as if today could be our last, as if this moment could be our last. By that I don’t mean we should focus on the negative, on the possibility of death being around the next corner, but rather that we should focus on doing all the things we want to do now (if we can). We shouldn’t wait.

Now, I’m not necessarily going to choose to get into more debt by taking an expensive vacation that I can’t afford, but I might take a trip to a local park for a walk. I might wear that expensive shirt that has been hanging in my closet waiting for just the right occasion to be worn – but that has only actually been worn once in 10 years (because I haven’t wanted to ruin it). I might actually write that letter to that person I admire and ask for an interview. And I might actually send out that book proposal to that publisher. And I also might talk to my husband about how we can move to the next level in our relationship. And I might actually stop work early today and go for that two-hour bike ride (rather than 30 minutes) I always wish I had time to take.

Those are all things I can do now, this moment. I don’t have to wait. And then I won’t regret not having done them. And I can go to bed knowing I lived a little more fully by doing so.

Co-Creation at Its Worst?

2008-02-05T23:57:00.000-08:00

Ever wonder about co-creation? I don’t mean the type of co-creation we do with God. I mean the kind we do with the people in our lives. I’ve been wondering about it a lot lately.

My husband is going through a rough patch. He’s between jobs and doing consulting here and there. It’s a stressful situation, and, understandably, it doesn’t make him feel great. Despite the fact that he and I have traveled the spiritual path together for many years, and he and I learned about conscious creation, creative thought, Law of Attraction – whatever you want to call it – long ago, he tends to stop believing when things aren’t going so well. He loses faith. And when he loses faith, he tends to think a lot of negative thoughts. Given that I believe our thoughts are, indeed, creative, I have a problem with that. I don’t want his negative thoughts manifesting in my life. Yet, we share a life.

Do we, therefore, co-create the bad things that might show up in our shared life, or does he create them and I simply deal with them (and vice versa)? I know that if I worry about him creating them, I help create them. I’ve been angry about him moping around the house feeling like a victim and telling me how nothing good ever happens to him and how it “just figures” that bad things happen to him. Feeling that way doesn’t open me up to creating good things or receiving them either. So, I guess I do co-create negatively with him on some levels and in some ways.

I was on the phone with my mastermind group today, and I mentioned my issues with my husband (since the group of women happen to be some of my best friends in the world), and one of the women asked me how I was handling the situation. I said, “I just keep focusing on what I want to create and on what’s working in my life. That makes me feel better.”

You see, I know that when I feel good, I open myself up to the Divine flow of goodness available to me. I open myself up to receive what I desire. When we feel negative emotions, we close down and don’t allow ourselves to receive. We become disconnected from the Divine flow of goodness that is normally available to us.

I also know that when I focus my attention on what I want, I am likely to create it. (The same, of course, goes for focusing attention on what I don’t want.) And when I focus on what’s working, I get more of what’s working.

Maybe by doing these things I simply counterbalance my husband’s negative thinking, thereby not allowing anything bad or good to happen in our shared lives. I suppose that’s a better co-creation than some others! I’ll take it over co-creating something I don’t want!

If I focus harder than he does on what I really do want and open myself up to receiving by feeling really great and knowing in my body that all is well and that only good is coming to me, I might put so much energy into creating something positive that I negate his negative thoughts and create something positive. I suppose that wouldn’t be co-creation, would it? It would be worth creating though…

So, I guess I do believe we co-create, that what others manifest affects me and my life to some extent even if it is not something I may have consciously wanted to manifest for myself. And maybe that’s part of the Divine plan or our own individual Divine plan. Maybe that’s part of being in relationship. Maybe learning how to co-create on the physical plane simply represents part of the human experience.

The Hand of God at the Cactus Kallah

2008-01-25T13:01:00.000-08:00

I just returned from teaching at the Cactus Kallah in Tucson, AZ -- not a big kallah, or gathering, like the bi-annual Aleph kallah but rather a small, intimate, first-annual, regional gathering. In every aspect of preparing to go and actually being there, I felt the hand of God gently ushering me in the direction I needed to move. Even the chant that began and ended my drumming class and that still echoes in my ears spoke to this theme: Yad Eloheim b’kol. The hand of God is in everything.

I experienced a lot of trepidation prior to leaving for Tucson. Actually, trepidation is putting it mildly. I felt stress and fear and resistance. The fact that no one had signed up for my class didn’t help, but I knew my emotions, while partially based in some real-life situations on my home front, were something to be pushed through. Like the workshop I taught at the kallah on moving through fear, I knew I needed to walk the narrow bridge no matter how precariously it hung between the peaks of the mountains I had created in my own mind. Illusions, I knew, with what I saw as a huge, wide, deep, dark, cavernous, chasm between them. And just as I decided take that first step, the bridge that seemed so scary and unsafe became more solid and secure. That first plank held my weight. And the distance between the bridge and the ground shrank considerably. I felt the disconnect between illusion and reality, thought and being, dissipate. My vision cleared. Reality settled in. I decided to take the next step. I felt the light move through me, through worlds. God's hand reached out to me, and I reached out and took it.

I got a call from an old acquaintance, my first kabbalah teacher, Mindy (Shulamit) Ribner, another teacher at the kallah. She wanted to be my roommate. I already felt better. I packed and got on the plane the next day with all my many materials, which I would soon discover I didn’t need at all.

I was greeted only by the tall cacti in the Tucson airport parking lot. At the hotel, I found myself unable to get into my room; Mindy had accidentally locked me out. Gentle knocking brought her sleepy face to the door to greet me, and just as that door opened to me that first night, many others would do the same over the course of the next few days.

In fact, when the first door opened to a meeting room the next morning I was greeted by Eli Shirim Lester. Ah, a face I knew, a man I deeply respected, a hug that felt open and welcoming. Maybe there would be other familiar faces to make me feel I was coming home, like at the Aleph kallah.

A trip to the shuk to deliver my goodies, indeed, found other familiar faces – Karen Wortman and Carole Kestler – Aleph kallah acquaintances. Richard Kestler was there, too. I remember you! I remembered Deborah Mayaan’s mezuzot as well (My daughter's hermit crabs used to live in cholla wood...), but not her. The door squeaked open as we all began moving towards friendship.

Teacher introductions happened next. Two rabbis first – Jonathan Siedel, whom I’d taught a retreat with just six months before, and Mindy – both long-time teachers and very knowledgeable. My thoughts ran wild. I’m so unqualified…so out of my league! I looked in the other direction. Lots more rabbis and a cantor – Robert Michael Esformes, Itzchak Marmorstein, the Ickovits siblings, and Jim Goodman. A few people I didn’t know, I assumed they knew more than me. Eli spoke next. His first words… “I have no credential…” I felt so much better! And I said so! “I’m so glad you spoke before me. I have no credentials either! I just want to share what little I know.” Guess what! The person next to me, she wasn’t a rabbi or scholar either. Nor was the next person or the next or even the next! After that…well…a few rabbis, the cantor…But I felt better. The door had opened to those of us who were “uncredentialed” to be teachers amongst those with credentials. Later, we’d all learn that we had something to offer – each and every one, receiving what we needed from the other.

There was still no one signed up for my class when I arrived, but just when I thought I'd take a class instead, Rick Kadis asked me to open the door of my class to him. God's hand at play, I'm sure. I agreed willingly. Better to teach to one than to none. I came to teach. I was nervous – how to teach to one? Did I need to teach like the rabbis with texts? We had a conversation. I taught him what I knew, what I believed. I shared. He shared. He taught me. I threw away my notes and my texts. Why had I bothered to bring them at all? I opened the door to my heart and to the flow of wisdom from within and from above. And we worked through my workbook together in a two day coaching session that was perfect for both of us. I received clarity on my book and my work. I received a new meditation. Rick received…what he needed, I hope, and eventually he'll create what he wants. We became friends. One student? Gam zu l’tova. (I want that bracelet!)

I relaxed into the afternoon – drumming with Eli, a class I’d always wanted to take (and that my husband and son really should have been taking instead of me; they are the family drummers, not me). The other class I had considered was cancelled; God's hand again. After hours of drumming and chanting together – and laughing until tears ran down my face (Coombahyah, oy vay!) – and drumming and chanting and singing some more on Friday (magic!) and Saturday, a door not only opened but a heartfelt connection took place in that space between the sound of my drum and Eli’s drum. More than that, a healing occurred for me as the stress and anger melted away with the medicine I took in -- the sound of the drums and the melodies and voices mingling together with the huge amount of joy I felt. (Kumah kumah Yah…kumah kumah Yah…Yes, now I can actually sing it without laughing but with fond memories in the place of that world-traveled drum’s beat.) And, of course, we had our class chant: Yad Eloheim b'kol and the favorite L'dor v'dor... We learned to be in synch – that last beat, our hearts and hands like one.

Then there was the smiling face of Karen drumming across from me and across our "shared" drums. We, too, connected in the spaces between the sound of my drumming and hers. Mmmm…makes me warm and fuzzy thinking of how the door opened to friendship. Punched arms, playing “musical drums,” trying not to look at each other so I could drum straight faced during that chant. (I won’t say the words lest I laugh again.) Oh, the aching cheeks and wondering who gets to play that drum this time? (Be careful, it’s so loud.) Wendy’s got “my” drum now… The promise to really stay in touch. I do promise.

I learned Ophanim with Itzchak – just he and I in preparation for Shabbat, his intense renditions of Abraham Isaac Kook’s poetry still ringing in my ears. We discussed kabbalistic “yoga” and the need for conditioner on hair. I’ll always remember filling his cup with green, sweet smelling tonic for his dry hair, showing him how to program his phone with ring tones, being the “first team” on the Shabbat walk, sharing Shabbat dinner (Is it time for salmon yet?), shivering in the cold as we lit candles. But I need a refresher course on Ophanim; I've already forgotten the breathing and letters... An unlikely friend, I would have thought, yet sometime during our time at kallah an opening happened, and we walked through a door together into friendship. He said I was good company. So was he.

I was honored to be asked to trade a booklet and workbook for a CD (Shhh…We shouldn’t have!) with Michael (He actually wanted to read what I wrote!), the beautiful voice on the CD I’ve often listened to at home. I shared cactus wisdom with him – shed the prickly outside to get to the soft good stuff inside and to let the soft good stuff get out past the prickly barrier. He liked that message. I wanted to get past his quiet exterior; there wasn’t enough time for us to talk. He gave me the perfect flower, still in bud but in so much pain that it would be easier to burst forth in bloom than to stay a bud. He asked me to teach at the Cactus Café at a time he could hear me…again I felt honored. I brought him home with me in a thin plastic box with his photo on it and a slim disc inside. I can hear his voice and see that beautiful vest that he didn’t bother to bring with him to kallah. I look forward to the door opening a bit wider…a stronger connection made over time.

I traded also with Carole (Shhhh….We won’t do it next year! Promise!), this time for art – a Shechinah to bring home – and in the hope that my booklet would help heal her.

Workshops were open for the taking. I opened to taking – teaching – in every opening. I filled the void. “Shafir, I came to teach.” And the students came, and my notes flew away as if God’s hand had reached down and snatched them up. So, I “winged it” and the words flew from my open mouth and were received by the students who came to hear. And with each teaching, I learned. I opened. I connected with the wonderful people who sat with me and learned and taught and shared. In fact, I grew teaching wings at kallah. God's hand came down and installed them on my back. You can't see them, but I can feel them there.

I bought a card in the shuk for my hubby. “Heineini,” it said. He is always there for my family and for me. I wasn't there for him or for my kids; I was off teaching and playing at kallah again. He always stays behind and handles the kids and work, allowing me to cross my bridges, find my wings, take God's hand. One day he'll come to kallah with me. I hope at this time he, too, senses God's hand in his life and feels it reaching towards him.

Meals, where the food wasn’t always the best but the company was always superb, were a time to be social. There weren't many of us, but there wasn't enough time to get to know everyone.

Time in my room provided a chance to connect on a new level with a woman who was once my teacher but was now my friend as well as a fellow teacher, writer, and Constant Contact user. We talked about guys, our books, what to wear, teaching, how to move forward with our careers. She was quiet in the morning; I tried to be quiet at night. We e-mailed when I returned home. “Isn't it past your bedtime?" "It's just like being back in Tucson in our room...Lilah tov, Nina." "Lilah tov, Mindy.”

Shabbat, of course, was a high and awesome time, and God’s hand was in everything. God’s light shone in everyone. Rebbes T’mimah and Jonathan and Shafir and Cantor Michael opened the door for the Shechinah to enter and kept it open to channel Her energy and light for us all to enjoy. Eli lead us Holy Drummers of the Purple Sage in our attempts to help bring the energy to a crescendo. Oh, and the little man on Friday night after services on the keyboard…and the karaoke without words…and Margaret singing regea ("Don't worry. Be happy!)…and songs started and not finished…and Eli and Jonathan making up verse after verse and Karen and I drumming and drumming until we laughed too hard and had to stop (Oy vay, what a day!)...and wishing we knew more than just “I know you’re gonna leave me." A repeat performance on Saturday with less energy, but we tried. We wanted the magic back again.

A lovely surprise! Two Aleph kallah friends came to join us for Shabbat. Rhonda Mason and her hubby, David. I got to eat lunch with them. Rhonda and I drummed on the table during birkat and tried to remember the words. She joined me in a workshop, although she's already a kohenet. Rhonda danced and David drummed with us after Havdallah. So nice to see them more than every two years…

And there was the cabaret and the talent show…wonderful talent all the way around. (Too bad Reb Jim wasn't there on Saturday night to sing his lovely songs again – gone to take care of his sick dog. No more hallway meetings with a fellow writer.) Attendees and teachers alike, singing, reciting poetry, playing guitar and drums, doing Biblio drama. We were visited by the spirit of Rav Kook and Sarah. And a few of us stayed long into the night, dancing until our bodies were too tired to continue moving, singing until we had no voices left, drumming until our hands hurt, lingering by the door because we did not want to say good night.

Then it was time to leave, to say good bye not just good night. I had opened and opened and opened. I hugged everyone. I collected business cards and e-mail addresses and asked for sign ups for my mailing list. I closed the door to my emotions not wanting to feel the sadness I always have when I leave kallah – Aleph or Cactus, it seems. It's that sense of leaving behind my spiritual family, my soul friends. There was talk of me coming back to teach…a lovely possibility…a door left open.

Karen offered to take me to the airport and on a short Tucson tour. We envited Eli along. I was happy for once not to be calling a taxi or getting on a shuttle. We “decompressed,” Eli, Karen and I, on that drive around Tucson, and I thought that would make it easier to close the door on the Cactus Kallah, but it only made it harder. Saying goodbye to two friends made it clear that I was once again leaving behind my chevre, going back to the stresses of my life, and that felt sad and lonely and a bit scary.

We only had about an hour and half until I had to be at the airport...too short. I wanted to make it last longer – the kallah, the time in the car, the feeling, the experience, the person that was me at kallah. Karen thought she knew where we were going, but she was lost. I was lost...in thought, in memory, in disconnect already. God’s hand took the steering wheel. We took the perfect route through the mountains to see those big, tree-like, 100-year-old+ Arizona cacti – the one with the crossed arms (or, as Eli suggested, legs…Ha!) – and then we turned around and went back to the airport.

I went through the open doors alone. Truding along with my heavy backpack, dragging my bags and carrying my little drum (Where's the big one I want? With Shafir and with Wendy in Tucson. Jonathan, you can have this one. I can't play it, but you can.), I didn't look back. I might not have gone forward if I had. Kallah seems real when you're there, but I knew from experience that a different reality waited at home. I felt like I was stepping onto that narrow bridge once again. It looked different this time, and I had much to draw on to give me courage, faith, and hope as I moved along its length. I remembered my students – eyes closed, heal to toe, arms out. I put one foot in front of the other. I walked fast, like Karen during my workshop, and blinked my eyes to see clearly. No illusions. (No Egypt coming...) I searched within for Nachshon's certainty. Not sure that I had found it, I reached out. God's hand took mine.

I'm so grateful to have been asked to teach at the Cactus Kallah. And I remember now why I never miss the opportunity to attend the Aleph kallah. In fact, I haven’t missed one since the first one I attended eight years ago. And now that I’ve attended the Cactus Kallah, I’m sure I’ll keep going back to this one as well. It’s hard to believe I ever considered not attending, not teaching. Shafir, thanks for your vision, for making this all this possible (You had to have the first one...), for giving me space and time – and for hearing my pain, for offering to take me shopping next year so I can have some lovely skirts like yours. (I really do have some, too.) The kallah was perfect in every way. Yad Eloheim b’kol.

Gam Zu L'Tova

2008-01-03T09:14:00.000-08:00

I haven’t posted a bog in ages. Actually, I posted many a blog in November, just not in this blog. (Check out writenonficinnov.blogspot.com.) I was blogged out after that and couldn't bring myself to blog in December. Now I’m not so blogged out, and I’m ready to blog again.

Much has happened. My husband lost his job. I missed out on two really big radio interviews. We put our little somewhat feral kitty to sleep. My daughter's panic attacks have continued, maybe even worsened.

Oh, some good things have happened, too. We went to New York for a Thanksgiving family reunion. I received a tithe check from a church where I often speak. One of my book projects is being considered by a publishing house.

But somehow, it’s those bad things that are stuck in my head, and with them comes my struggle with a Kabbalistic teaching: Gam zu l’tovah. This, too, is for the best.

Sometimes it’s really hard to see why something that happens to us is for the best, at least in the moment when it is happening to us. When we look backwards after a time, often it’s easier to understand how that event was for the best, how it got us to a new – possibly better – place we might not have made it to otherwise. It’s harder to see these things when you are still so close to them, when you are still living them.

Now, I can see to some extent why my husbands lost job was for the best, but, on the other hand, I still have a hard time mustering clear vision on this particular event. He hated that job. It made him miserable. He needed to be out job hunting, and he wasn’t going to put his whole heart and all his effort into finding a new job as long as he stayed in that job. So, losing the job was a good thing. However, with no job, we, as a family, find ourselves in financial peril. I have a hard time seeing that as a good thing. Mind you, he’s doing some contract consulting work, which will keep us going for a while and gives him a feel for doing consulting work, but the fact that he doesn’t have a steady income represents a scary reality for us. Contract work only lasts so long. Our financial situation wasn’t so great before he lost his job, and he isn’t making as much as he was when he held down a full-time job. Plus, in the meantime, all my work has dried up as well leaving us, once again, dependent on his salary. It’s difficult to see this as a good thing.

It’s harder for me to see anything good about me missing two radio interviews. I could rationalize that I wasn’t ready for them. I almost paid for some media training for the second one – a great opportunity to be on a BBC World News talk show, but I didn’t because of my husband’s job situation. I was waiting for the interview to actually be scheduled – which never happened – before committing to the training. (Surprise, surprise. Anyone who knows anything about conscious creation (LOA) knows that I wasn’t focused on the interview happening but on it not happening. I didn’t trust that it would come true. I didn’t have faith.) I suppose that it could be a good thing the interview didn’t come through, because maybe without the media training I would have made a fool out of myself. After the first missed interview, my agent said, “Something better will come along,” and it did…and then it went away. I don’t yet see the good in that. Maybe one day I will. Maybe the BBC will call me up to speak about a topic I would prefer to speak on. As my husband said, “At least now they know who you are.” That is a good thing, but an interview under my belt would have been better. I wish my vision was clearer on this one.

As for putting the little kitty to sleep, I suppose the good in that was that we put her out of her misery – she was sick and possibly suffering at that point. And we then committed to the other kitty that had adopted us and totally adopted her. We took her for her vaccinations and allowed her to sleep in the house at night. Now we have a pet. We lost our dog last year and were left with these two cats – one feral and one our neighbor’s that decided she liked our house better. Now she is ours (Our neighbor is happy about that, by the way.), and we have a pet again.

I sometimes wonder about my books – why they haven’t yet been published. I suppose this too is for the best. I’ll understand why eventually. Maybe I haven’t really figured out how best to write them, what approach to take. Maybe as the years have gone by my perspective has changed enough to significantly improve how I will write them. Maybe for one of my projects that had a publisher and then lost a publisher the first one wasn’t the right one; this one considering the manuscript might be perfect. Maybe I didn’t have the time then to do what it would take to market and promote my books. Now my kids are older and I’ll have a bit more time. While I still find it hard to see how this is for the best, I can refocus my vision and find the good if I try.

I’ve wondered about my daughter – why she had to experience her best friend’s suicide last summer and now suffers from panic attacks. How could that be for good? I suppose one day we’ll know. Maybe she’ll help other people who lose friends to suicide. Maybe it will stop her from ever committing suicide herself. Maybe the fact that she has had to go into counseling for her attacks will giver her insight into herself she wouldn’t have otherwise gained at all or wouldn’t have gained until she was much older. It’s hard, though, to understand how a 15-year-old having to suffer such a tragedy can be for the best.

The issue, I believe, revolves around having faith even when we can’t know the reasons why something happens to us or to others. Faith requires trust. When we have faith, we don’t have to “see it to believe it.” We just believe it. We trust. We don’t have to understand it to believe it either. We just do. We have faith. And so, the Kabbalists said we must have faith that everything is happening just as it is supposed to happen. No matter what befalls us, we must trust that “gam zu l’tovah.” And one day, maybe the reason why will be revealed to us. Ken yehe ratzon. (May it be God’s will.)

Rebbe Adin Steinsaltz (and me) on the Popularity of Kabbalah

2007-11-12T00:47:00.000-08:00

I went to hear Rabbi Adin Steinsaltz speak last week. I was very excited to hear what he would have to say about Jewish mysticism, since I write about Kabbalah and have been a student of Jewish mysticism for some years now. Notice I say a student, not an expert; it matters not that I have written a small book on the subject. I still feel I am far from an expert on anything but the small little piece of Kabbalah that I think I understand.

But Rebbe Steinsaltz…now he is an expert. He wrote the classic book on Kabbalah, The Thirteen Petaled Rose. I read it this past summer. I loved it, and learned much from it.

Anyway, the Rebbe spoke about the fact that Kabbalah cannot be taken out of the greater works of Judaism or out of the way we as Jews live, but that as it has become a popular spiritual (a term he dislikes) path, of sorts, it has been cut out or away from its source. He said Jewish mysticism is part of the whole teaching of Judaism and equated studying it alone to taking a beautiful woman and cutting her into pieces. If we only had her nose or her mouth or her leg, we wouldn’t find that piece so beautiful, nor would it have much meaning to us, he explained. The beauty and meaning are found in context of the whole – the woman in totality. The same is true of Kabbalah. It is part of the whole we call Judaism. He explained that we can find Kabbalah in the blessing we say over the bread, in the prayer, “Lecha Dodi,” that we say on Friday nights to welcome the Sabbath, and in the prayer book we use every day. He said Kabbalah can be found in the way we as Jews live and think.

He stressed, however, that we have never lived or thought in a way that could be deemed “popular,” but now Kabbalah has not only been extracted from the whole of Judaism but made popular to boot. This popular Kabbalah, he seemed to say, is not really the Kabbalah of the Jews and shouldn’t be sold like a fashionable dress to anyone who simply wants to get in on the newest trend or be part of a fad that celebrities find appealing.

I’m no supporter of selling Kabbalah water and I don’t care what the rich and famous do, but I don’t have an issue with Kabbalah’s popularity. I have often wondered why celebrities find Kabbalah so attractive, but I believe that people like Madonna actually find that Jewish mysticism does something positive for their lives – adds something, changes them, enhances their perspective – otherwise they wouldn’t bother advocating this particular spiritual path or spending so much time and money supporting one particular spiritual group. If making Kabbalistic teachings accessible to people allows them to learn about Jewish mysticism, even out of the context of Jewish life and Judaism as a whole, offers people something they need and want – something that betters their lives and helps them improve themselves, isn’t that a good thing? I believe it is. So, it’s a fad. Who cares if some people benefit from it – and I don’t mean just those making money off of it. (I could be accused of the same, as could all those writing and selling books on the topic and teaching classes and seminars based on their books – and there are some very well-respected authors out there writing books on Kabbalah, including Rebbe Steinsaltz himself.)

We Jews know the truth; in Judaism, mysticism has always existed. Sometimes even within Judaism it was a fad and became popular. And at other times it was seen as bad and hidden away. But it was always there. It will remain there, but because it has become popular again within and without Judaism, more people will understand it and be able to use its principles and benefit from its teachings. Theymay not be immersed in Jewish life, that is true. Yet, they may get a glimmer of what that might be like. And if that person is a Jew, that glimmer might be enough to send that person seeking a more Jewish life.

I know that I have spoken to many Jews seeking a more spiritual Judaism. When we discuss some of the beliefs that are found within Jewish mysticism, they are thrilled and excited and want to learn more. They are eager to delve deeper and to explore Judaism in a way they have not in the past. Kabbalah brings them home again. It had the same affect on me, bringing me back into the fold of the religion of my birth after many years seeking "something more" elsewhere. It hasn't made Madonna want to be a Jew, although she did choose a Hebrew name, nor did it make her want to lead a Jewish life. Yet, there might be some other non-Jews out there so influenced by Kabbalah that they are considering becoming Jews by Choice. That's a good thing, too.

I didn't agree with everything Rebbe Steinsaltz had to say, but I was glad I heard him speak. I'll ponder his words for some time to come, I'm sure. And I'll be happy to have his signature in my well-highlighted copy of his book.

If Hindsight is 20-20, What’s Foresight?

2007-11-03T14:33:00.000-07:00

I’m a big believer in visioning, or visualizing what we want to create in the future. I guess you’d call this foresight. I’ve noticed however, that my foresight tends to be perfect. In fact, you could say that when I see the future, I have better-than-20-20 vision.

Yet, I’m well aware of the common adage the hindsight is 20-20. I understand this to mean that we don’t always see clearly in the moment, in the now. Seeing in this sense encompasses more than just seeing what is right in front of us but also those things that are hidden or harder to see, such as why things are in our lives or experiences. Sometimes we only “see” this when we look backward at the past with a new perspective afforded from time and space.

All of this tells me that when I’m visioning the future, and then the future becomes the present, my better-than-20-20 vision becomes flawed. I don’t see perfectly. Sometimes I don’t see at all. I might even create that perfect future I envisioned and not see it at all. I might not realize I manifested it in the here and now.

I began thinking about this idea of hindsight and foresight when I recently was asked to speak on the topic of vision at a local new thought church. I needed more than this one little bit of personal wisdom to fill out my 30 minute talk, and the congregation tends to like the fact that I typically bring them some Jewish teachings when I speak there. I didn’t know much about the Jewish view on vision, however, so I put out a query to my Jewish Renewal list serve for help. I received many suggestions, all of which were thought provoking. There were too many to include in my talk or in this blog, but a few provided me with the insights I needed. I’d like to share a few here as well.

My friend and teacher Rabbi Goldie Milgram first reminded me that the morning blessings refer to vision. Indeed, each morning observant Jews say the words, “Blessed are you God who gives sight to the blind.” Reb Goldie told me that she believed that this blessing doesn’t simply refer to blind people who are given sight; she said it refers to our capacity “through God-connection to become increasingly less blind to what’s around us.” So, the more connected we are to God, the more we see, the more vision we have. Or maybe we simply become more aware and more conscious, and, therefore, we see more clearly. This provides a compelling reason to pursue a spiritual practice of some sort each day. I personally like to combine my spiritual practice with visioning. I’m not sure if that can improve my foresight, which is already excellent, but I’m sure it improves my ability to see my present. I definitely see my now with added clarity when I do this.

Reb Goldie also suggested I look at a reading fro the prophet Isaiah. This particular reading is called Chazon after the first Hebrew word (chazon) in the portion, which mean’s “vision.” The Shabbat (Sabbath) on which this portion is read is called the Sabbath of Vision (Shabbat Chazon), and it precedes the holiday of Tish B’Av, which commemorates the destruction of both the temples in Jerusalem. On this Sabbath, every year Jews read of Isaiah’s vision of the destruction of Jerusalem and of the rebirth of Jerusalem and the building of the third temple – a vision of a joyous time that has not yet arrived.

Some very great commentators have shared their thoughts on why just before the holiday that commemorates such a sad event in Jewish history we read a prediction of this tragedy but a vision of a happier time. For example, Rashi taught that even as Jews begin this period of grief they should also envision sadness turning to happiness, thus remembering that this is the course life tends to take. Rabbi Levi Yitzchak of Berditchev taught that our vision of the future must become internalized and arouse a longing, for this changes us and makes it possible for us to bring that vision into physical reality. In this process, our souls see the vision as already existing; thus, we long for something that is distant and that inspires us while at the same time feeling at peace with something that exists within us as reality.

Rabbi Levi could be one of the teachers on the popular DVD The Secret (or quoted in the book by the same name) or a proponent for my own book Abracadabra! The Kabbalah of Conscious Creation! He’s talking about the power of seeing what we want as already manifest. And he’s talking about being happy and at peace with the vision of what we want even though we haven’t yet seen it come into our physical reality.

In addition, my friend Rabbi Fred Guttman was kind enough to share one of his High Holy Day sermons with me that spoke to the fact that without a vision of the future we cannot manifest that very same future. He quoted from Proverbs, chapter 29, which says, “Where there is no vision, the people show no restraint.” Says Rabbi Fred, “The text here is teaching us that without vision, the people lack direction and fumble around.” Isn’t it true that if we don’t visualize our future – if we don’t see it clearly – we don’t know where we are going? That foresight gives us a roadmap, a blueprint that we can follow.

Additionally, Rabbi Fred told a wonderful story about 10 Jews crossing a river prior to the onset of the Sabbath. When they get to the other side, however, the leader counts them all to see if they have all made it across. To his dismay, he finds there are only nine. Someone has drowned in the river leaving them without a minyan. He counts several times with the same result. As the group begins to wail for their drowned friend, a peasant comes along. He count the men, and finds that there are, indeed, still 10. The leader had not counted himself. Rabbi Fred ended the story by saying, “Very quickly, these wise men understood that it is one thing to count upon others, but it is something else entirely to count upon oneself.”

Rabbi Fred went on to stress a similar point in his sermon as did I that Sunday morning in church. I pointed out that if we don’t put ourselves in our own vision, we will never see ourselves in that future we desire to create. The future might come to pass, but we won’t be in it. Plus, to make that vision into a reality, we must count upon ourselves to manifest it; we must see ourselves as part of what is necessary to bring it into physical reality.

Last, but definitely not least, I shared with the small congregation a story from one of my favorite Jewish authors, Rabbi Mitch Chefitz. The story, called “Just a Miracle,” comes from his book of short stories, The Curse of Blessings (previously published in his novel The Seventh Telling: The Kabbalah of Moshe Katan) and describes a townspeople’s reaction of young Elijah’s miracles. No matter what he does, the townspeople say it was “just” this or “just” that. The young girl who is the recipient of all these miracles learns a lesson from this, a lesson about how our language and our thinking affect our vision. Here's what Mitch writes about the lesson she learns and goes on to teach others:

“The word just puts blinders on you,” she taught. “so even though a miracle might be right there in front of you, you won’t be able to see it. You would see just this, or just that, but never look into the depth of anything. Your eyes would never open in wonder.

“That you open your eyes at all is a miracle. The word just can’t keep your eyes from seeing, but the word just can keep you from seeing the miracle of sight.”

So, go out and see. Feel blessed that you have vision. Connect with God so that your vision increases. Have foresight. Use your better-than-20-20 vision to visualize that perfect future you desire. Internalize that vision so that it changes you and changes your future. See yourself in that future. And when that future becomes your present, and that present is miraculous, don’t discount it as just another day, another moment, another whatever. See it. Really see it. Have 20-20 vision, or better-than-20-20 vision, now.

Lessons from Na’amah and Noah – and A New Ritual for Cheshvan

2007-10-14T21:44:00.000-07:00

I was asked last week to help lead a Rosh Chodesh (new moon or new month) group at the temple I joined a few months ago. I know several of the women who attend the group, and I felt honored to help come up with a theme and a program. The three of us threw around a lot of ideas but latched on to some that revolved around the week’s Torah portion, which told the story of Noah and the flood. I’d like to share with you the part of the evening I came up with. Maybe you will find it interesting and useful.

I thought about parshah Noach and it reminded me of something I am constantly trying to do – to go with the flow. I find that more often than not I am paddling up stream rather than with the current. Noah, however, did not paddle the ark at all. (It would have been a hard thing to do, mind you, with all those animals on board and so few humans to actual paddle such a large boat.) The ark just floated along, drifting in whatever direction the flow of the water dictated. One of the other women and I thought a discussion about flow in our lives might be appropriate.

One of the women also shared a midrash with me that I’d never heard before. She explained that Na’amah, Noah’s wife, was wise enough to plan for life after the flood by collecting the seeds of all the plants. These she brought with her onto the ark and later, after the waters receded, planted. Thus, we today enjoy the results of her wise action. I began thinking about planting seeds… I wondered how I could tie this in, especially at a time of year when most plants are going dormant. Then I remembered the bags of seeds that my mother had recently collected for me and that I had also collected while at her home from plants going dormant (to seed) in her garden. And if we hadn’t collected them, the seeds would have fallen to the ground only to lie there most of the winter until the warm spring weather accompanied by the damp earth would have caused them to sprout into new plants.

“Aha! The plants are going dormant,” I thought, “but like Na’amah, the plants actually are preparing for the future – planting seeds for the future.”

With that in mind, I created a new ritual for a month with no holiday – one of the other women leading with me had explained that Cheshvan is called the “sad month” for this reason – and no ritual of its own. Using a chant, called the “planting chant,” and a ritual I learned from Rabbi Shefa Gold, I tied this in to the idea of flood waters and the just past holidays of Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur. In the group, we discussed the fact that the month of Cheshvan comes right after the High Holy Days. Much like the passing of the secular New Year when we enter January with New Year’s resolutions, we enter Cheshvan with new “targets” we have set personally and spiritually (sometimes professionally as well), but by the time the new moon rises we may already have forgotten at what we planned to aim, stopped practicing or given up practicing at all. Some of us may not have even set targets. Thus, the new moon of Cheshvan provides the perfect time to plant a seed – a quality – that will allow us to follow through with our goals for the new year – and to weather the storms, the draughts, the floods of the new year as well. So, we each picked a quality, and together we planted it within our selves while chanting, “Vechayay olam natah betochaynu, Infinite life is planted within us.”

Thus, a new ritual for the month of Cheshvan was born and a quality was planted within each one of us. And surprisingly – or not – one of the women who attending the gathering showed up with plants for us all! She didn’t even know the theme of the evening, yet she brought a “Mother of Millions” for each of us – a plant that not only grows but produces more baby plants on its leaves, creating more plants constantly for the future. How perfect was that?

Between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, Life Got In My Way

2007-10-03T19:13:00.000-07:00

Between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, life got in my way. My mother was in a car accident (nothing broken but very bruised and battered), and I found myself on a plane to New York once again, this time to spend a whole week caring for her. No Kil Nidre service for me. No Yom Kippur spent with my family and community. No leading a morning meditation. No chance to speak face to face with my family or friend and to apologize for the sins I might have committed against them over the past year.

I spent a good part of the days prior to leaving anguishing over the fact that I would have to spend the week with my mother. Not that I didn’t want to care for her; I did. I just wasn’t sure I could handle being in her energy for that long, especially given the circumstances. Even under good circumstances I have trouble being with her for more than a few days; then we begin to argue. A week together, I was sure, would be terribly trying, and I didn’t want to lose my temper while she was in pain and suffering. I wanted to go and be compassionate and helpful and supportive and to care for her in a loving and understanding way. (Does this sound at all like an earlier blog?) But I got all the kvetching done before I left, and I arrived in New York ready to do what I began calling t’shuvah in action. I would do my Yom Kippur repentance and contemplation while caring for my mother. And I did.

In fact, with the energy of that week, which is about t’shuvah, turning back to God and to your best self – and which sets the tone for the rest of the year, I cared for my mother as best I could. And I didn’t lose my temper. And I tried to speak from my heart when I was aggravated or upset, and I was more understanding and compassionate than I usually manage to be in her company.

I went to bed on Erev Yom Kippur and read my siddur alone. I walked my mother’s dog on Yom Kippur morning and spoke aloud of my sins as I traveled the road of my youth. “Al chet…for the sins (the missed marks) I have committed by….” and I filled in the blanks. When the sun had already set, I had time to read, once again, my siddur. It didn’t feel like Yom Kippur, but I knew it was.

If nothing else, I felt I had acted differently. I had set a new target for myself in coming to New York, and I had done a fairly good job of hitting it. Not a bad way to begin the New Year and to end Yom Kippur.

I missed hearing my son blow the shofar at the end of Neilah. I didn’t sit with my husband as he mourned the passing of his father during Yiskor. I wasn’t there to break fast with my community. I only had the chance to hurriedly tell my husband and my kids over the phone that I was sorry for anything I had done that had hurt them without being very specific or thoughtful. But I made pot roast for my mother – enough to freeze so she’d have several more meals after I returned to California. I felt as if I made amends for the last time I was in New York, when I did yell at her and left feeling pretty lousy about how I had behaved with her. I spent a week giving of myself and being more concerned with her needs than with my own. I behaved in a way of which I was proud. I learned a little about myself, and took into consideration my mother’s point of view a bit more than usual. I helped someone in need – someone I love. I returned to New York glad to go home to my family but sad to leave my mother alone.

All in all, not a bad way to have spent Yom Kippur and to have started the New Year. So, maybe life didn’t get in the way after all. Maybe life happened just perfectly. Isn’t that they way it usually happens – at least when we look back objectively?

Rosh Hashanah Message from Reb Zalman Schachter-Shalomi

2007-09-12T13:30:00.000-07:00

In case you don't get my newsletter, here's a wonderful Rosh Hashanah message from Reb Zalman, the founder and spiritual leader of the Jewish Renewal movement. It was sent to me by Aleph, the umbrella Jewish Renewal organization and reprinted here with permission. You can reprint it or send it along as well as long as you give credit to Reb Zalman. The message is well worth reading and will change your view of this holiday forever.

L'shanah tovah,

Nina

New Year's Message from Reb Zalman Schachter-Shalomi

THE CONDITION OF OUR LIVES AT THIS TIME is the condition of someone who is severely ill. The world, our planet, from the perspective of air and water quality, is suffering both from emphysema and blood poisoning. A fever is rising in terms of Global Warming. The way that we are dealing with one another has become an irritating rash on the body of the planet. And the reason we have begun campaigning for new leadership in this country so early is because we are searching for healing, for a shift in this situation.

The coming year, 5768 on the Jewish calendar, is due to be a difficult one. It is here that we need to be able to call on several dimensions of assistance and help. First, from God-to take hold of God's goodwill for us, to recognize that there are some needs that cannot be fulfilled on the physical plane, and to look for the way in which we can handle our emotional needs by leading with kindness, goodness, smiles and warmth, and a gentle touch. Likewise, we have a need for greater awareness and deeper insight, learning how to see things from different points of view, intuiting guidance from the Source and the Center of all truth. These needs cannot all be met on the physical plane, so we must learn to recognize that, and to act on it as part of what we need to do in this season of the New Year.

The issue of kindness is paramount at this time. Back when we lived in friendly neighborhoods and in houses with front-porches that we sat upon, when neighbors and people in the street actually knew one another, if someone fell through the cracks in the social system, there was always somebody around to see it and who was willing to help them out. So, instead of demanding that people refrain from begging in the streets, we should see what we can do to help the homeless. Look at the disparity between what we are spending on the war and destruction and what we are spending on health, education, and welfare today; it is so fantastically great-isn't this a lack of kindness? So this is why we need to bring about some changes in our lives, and the most important of these is an increase of kindness-beginning with oneself, with the members of one's family, and one's immediate surroundings-unblocking the flow of energy and goods (without this being a profit making situation) to the places in our social body that really need it. If our neighbor needs something, we should be able to offer that to them naturally, and then receive back from them just as naturally. In this way, the social fibers will be strengthened and the body of the planet will be healed in the coming year.

Let us not forget Reb Nachman of Bratzlav's wonderful story about the king and his minister and the contaminated grain. Both knowing that all the grain would be contaminated and everybody would lose their minds in the coming year, they said to each other, "Let us make signs on our foreheads so that we remember that the world has gone mad, and that we are not in the normal situation." And, I think, like the king and the minister, we too need to make signs and place them on our hearts this year, to remember that we are not in a normal situation, and extra kindness and extra caring for the planet and for people is really necessary right now.

Many blessings to you, I pray that you may receive from the divine goodwill that which is intended for you for the coming year. And the best way in which you can receive this is to open your heart and give space to that which flows from God instead of that which is part of the domain of the ego. Amen.

* A special message from Reb Zalman given on September 11th, 2007

Because it is before the High Holy Days I want to write about Binyan Hamalkhut.The rabbi of Kotzk once said in a response to the question of where God dwells: "God dwells wherever we let Him in." God is where The Divine invests itself in the world. The way in which we speak of divine immanence results in God being more hidden in the within of the within. Alan Watts used to point out that God is on the inside and his students asked him to show them. They brought an apple and cut it in half to look for God on the inside of the apple but God wasn't visible. Watts pointed out that they now had two more outsides. They brought him a paper bag and they looked inside and asked where is God? And he pointed out to them that they could only see the outside of the inside but not the inside of the inside.

There are many layers that prevent us from descending to the inside of the inside. This is because our mind is the result of the inside of the inside being inside of us, so therefore even to go to the edge of our minds and our awareness we are still only in the outside of the inside.

Each one of our holy days has a particular task to perform to help us in our inner growth and to be recalibrated in order to be in harmony with the Divine intention in life.Yom Kippur is a recalibration of one's entire system because it touches the place from which everything is energized, i.e. Keter. Rosh Hashanah in its two days is a recalibration of our Chochmah and Binah. In other words, we are dealing with how we are conceptualizing and valuing things in the world (Chochmah) as part of the first day of Rosh Hashanah. The work of the second day of Rosh Hashanah is the way we understand what Chochmah has manifested and we now bring it into detailed understanding and caring about it.

This is the general teaching relating to Rosh Hashanah, the Head Of The Year. If we return to the Kotzker's quote that God dwells where God is let in, there is the question why should God care to be let in? Rabbi Schneur Zalman of Liadi points to this issue as follows. Our sages tell us "Nit'avveh Haqadosh Baruch Hu lihyot lo dirah batachtonim" of God's passion to reside with those lowly ones (meaning, us human beings). When asked why is it that the infinite should have such a passion, such a desire to dwell with us, he answered. "Oyf a Ta'avah fregt men key kashyes nit": there is no way in which you can ask questions of reason about a passion. In other words he is saying that why this passion exists within the Divine is way beyond our understanding.

What did not get opened for our inspection is that the attraction that the finite has for God is manifested in the way in which we create a space that aches and clamors for the sacred Presence to occupy it. This space is made of longing and involves the reduction of ego. Our ego takes up so much of our inner space that even if we want to make space for God it seems as if we have to consult to get to our ego's permission.

This, of course, is not the way it can or needs to be. On the contrary, recognizing that the ego is a good manager but not a good boss, we have to ask who is the boss behind the ego in all the systems. We speak of it as a Self. This self has that longing, and inherent in it is the reduction of space for itself to make room for the Beloved. Rabbi Nachman of Bratzlav speaks about this mutuality of the longing, of the individuals in prayer and the reciprocal longing from God. Filling the worshiper with love in response to that longing is due to the fact that the person who prays best is the one who is charming to God; the one who prays with Cheyn. To explore this in a meditative flash: how do I need to adorn myself so that my expectation of how God wants me to look to be most engaging and entrancing to Him, so that the infinite's passion will flow in to me.

We learn from the writings of Rabbi Isaac Luria that the work of the High Holy Days is Binyan Hamalkhut. Let me unpack the meaning of that and the ways in which we might experience it. It means that some of my life space is taken away from the ego and put at the disposal of God. Binyan Hamalkhut also has in itself the notion of healing the Shechinah. The God field of the last year -- this is how we understand Shechinah -- was the appropriation of energy to the cosmos and was fully expended. It gets renewed each year on Rosh Hashanah. The appropriation for this planet, its creatures and peoples is what we pray for on Rosh Hashanah. Through Yom Kippur into Succoth we continue the process of building the God field for the coming year. The understanding is that this God field; the permeable membrane between the infinite and finite can, as a result of our attracting negative karma, become injured and by the end of the year become worn out and useless and needs to be replaced.

Another way in which this was discussed in the literature was that the God field is also what we call the Name of God - Hashem. It is that which issues from the infinite and is not identical with the Godhead. But the name is connected with the presentation and the forms in which the infinite comes to us. Sometimes I use another image: that of the root metaphor and the notion of covenant. We are always dealing with the mutuality at which the two parties of the covenant pledge to give to each other what they covenant about. When people say where is God? I wish I knew God! My response is the question, "Who are you in relation to God?"

The liturgy is going to make it very clear: "God you are our king and we are your subjects, you are God and we are your devotees, you are our parent and we are your children". In this way there is always something that arises out of the root metaphor that implies mutualities and in some ways also obligations. On Rosh Hashanah we want to create clarity for ourselves with what root metaphor we will serve God for the coming year. And this would be the God field, the name that is being established by us through Yom Kippur, through Sukot and Simchat Torah to be aegis, the overarching matrix of our life for the coming year. If this relationship rooted is in the root metaphor, into that we can place our Cheyn, our charm, our Grace, to attract the Divine other into mutuality with us.

All of Israel, all God wrestlers, all of us who will be spending that prayer time during the high holy days will be able to constitute the morphic God field for our entire people and for the whole world for which we will be praying. It is important that in this God field for the coming year we should be able to be harmonious and inclusive to all branches of Judaism and beyond. All the prayers are being said in the name of all humankind. We as a kingdom of priests, a holy nation, should pray for that integration that will make room for everyone and at the same time obligate them to be stewards of God's kingdom on earth. (How strange it is to see how in every religion those notions of each beings particular task is to garden the world, to know it as rooted, not in our possession but in God's possession.)

Theology used to be allied with philosophy and with history and with traditions. There has been a shift, because of the questions of the nature of God and the recognition that for the sake of our hearts we need to have a root metaphor that keeps us in the necessary dualism of love or in the love it of king and subject of parent and child. We have also freed the word God from being locked in to the image of the old man with a white beard, floating in the sky. So then what else can we say about God? And here is where the cosmologists beginning with Einstein had pointed to the awesome mysteries of Being, to the substratum of our experienced worlds, to the energy system that runs through it all the mutualities involved in the biosphere. This is different from the past. The liturgy of the high holy days is largely based on the notion of the King of kings of Kings.

It was a way to say that God is larger than the greatest emperor. In that age that has passed people saw themselves as subject to the kings of Kings. God is greater than that. Allah hu Akbar.

In this view the power of life and death is in the hands of God. The momentous scene of the Divine Court was put into our prayer book, with angels are writing, with God decreeing who shall live, who shall die, who shall have plenty, just as a king will do from his royal throne. The regressive mythic language of the Machzor, the high holiday prayerbook, points to that. All of this is in the age of Aries and comes from there and was also transferred to the age of Pisces where to this day we are dealing with words like superpower, supreme commander, commander in chief etc.

However, once we enter into the age of Pisces man we began to look at God as the great Creator, our Maker, Designer. How interesting that we at Homo Faber returned to God the complement of Maker, Fabricator. In much of the language employed in the Hebrew prayerbook and the Bible, God is seen as a Yotzer, the one who shapes clay, clay being the plastic of the ancient world. So it was seen that the same way as the soul fills the body, God fills the universe. It was a small universe then, still with earth in the center and the various heavens surrounding us with their spheres. And from here to the highest spheres there was a certain hierarchy, that still maintains that the creature owes its life to the Creator and therefore at best surrenders to God's will. The social and political arrangement of those days still today involves an empire, commander in chief etc. So too are the social arrangements of corporations with their CEOs and boards. The hierarchy this time is not measured in terms of aristocracy as it is measured in terms of wealth and power.

So we have not yet come into the organismic model by which we would best understand the process of life on the planet. As long as there is a disparity so vast between the heads of corporations and the blue-collar workers and maintenance people, for them it is clear that we have not yet gotten into the kind of equitable harmony that an organismic point of view would want.

In the organismic point of view we realize that everything goes in cycles. The holistic view by which we understand life at this time is not a homogenized monism. In the organism there are many interactions going on among the mitochondria, the organelles, that nervous system and the metabolism in the flow of blood and the exchange of oxygen in the lungs, all of which are in a reciprocal relationship pledged to promote the life in harmony for the being.In our mystical tradition there is a description of the ritual of "crowning the King". We stimulate the will inherent in the infinite One to become our king. A king does not rule over animals, nor over his children and blood relatives. In order to truly be king, subjects have to subject themselves to the king's rule and must take on the Yoke Of The Divine Kingdom. This is what the liturgy of the High Holy Days is about. "And in this way we will give You the crown of the kingdom"

In the past we would pray that God should inscribe us in the Book Of Life as a kind favor to us. "Our father, our King, be kind and compassionate to us and answer us, for we have no good deeds that would make us deserve your kindness." True enough, as in every liturgy and ritual we step out off the "regular, secular, practical and empirical" life of our present awareness and we go into a regression to a more mythical, archetypal time. And so it is. Steadily, will still be chanting the same melodies and add new ones and keep the words all of the Monarchial hierarchy as part of our prayers. It is also extremely important to recognize that this language does not contain the action directives that we need to understand what it is that we are to be doing. The more we will become aware of the process of becoming attractive to the infinite, of creating the God field, and creating loving harmony with one another, of becoming stewards of the earth, healers of the environment and society, the more will our prayer work and produce the goods results we pray for.

In the old theology everything depended on God. I like to characterize that as a relationship of the direct current from the infinite Creator to creatures. However, once I look at the way in which life operates in curves and reciprocities, I begin to see that a better metaphor for the relationship between us and the infinite is the alternating current, that is to say, we vibrate back and forth. In the language of the Bible "v'hachayot ratzu vashov" which translates as the angelic beings, "chayot" are to and fro -- can also be read as "and life is reciprocal, rhythmic, cyclical and alternating". Heart beat and pulse, systole and diastole, sympathetic and parasympathetic as well as the many residents and interactions from organelles to eco-systems all of this is an alternating current. (While direct current needs to have two wires in which the positive flows in one direction and the negative in the other, in alternating current one wire is enough, provided the other side of the grounded.) The grounded-ness in the life of the planet is the litmus test for traditions and religions at this point. In the past that was disdain and aversion to the physical; from Gnosticism, Hinduism to Judaism, Christianity and Islam there was a mode of the flesh hating asceticism. How different is this today with our seeing the physical and honoring it as a way in which the Divine immanence makes itself present to us on the outside and the inside.So we are dealing with the sound of the Shofar that we need to hear deeply. There is the hollowness of the shofar which is necessary for the horn and the breath to produce the sound. One of the symbols of the hollowness is that we need to have that open, empty, in order to attract the Divine to dwell within us.The liturgical process is underneath and behind the ritual and to which we for archetypal reasons enter into archaic regions, but we have to be aware of the task of recalibrating our deep life program to create the God field by making our contributions to Binyan Hamalkhut.

Rosh Hashanah, Archery Practice and the Law of Attraction

2007-09-12T00:03:00.000-07:00

Tomorrow marks another new year. Wrong time of year, you might think…if you aren’t Jewish. If you are Jewish, like me, you’ll be ringing in the new year tomorrow evening and all of Thursday not with noisemakers and bells but with the sound of the shofar and lots of prayers. If you’re lucky, you’ll get some candy apples, too.

For the last few years, Rosh Hashanah, the New Year, and Yom Kippur, the Day of Repentance, which follows just 10 days later, have felt like an inconvenience in my already too busy schedule. They feel a little bit like that this year, but not as much so. I’m not so busy at work…although I need to be.

Not that I’m not at my desk many hours a day. I am. I’m not getting any writing done on my books, though…not yet. And I’m not making any money…not yet.

So, what are my new year’s resolutions? I’m not making any. In true Jewish manner, I am simply looking at how I set my targets last year and if I managed to hit the bull’s eye. I’m resetting my targets, asking for forgiveness for missing some targets (too many, I fear), and figuring out how to take better aim – what and how to practice to be better at hitting that bull’s eye. Yes, that’s what the holidays are about -- archery practice. After all, “sin” is just a “missed mark.” The terms comes from archery -- al chet. Did you know that? It’s not something that dooms you to hell. And true repentance, good deeds and charity go along way toward ensuring that at least you live to make the most of the next year.

I did read something this week that was interesting, though. I admit, it came from the Kabbalah Centre…not most Kabbalists favorite source of information. However, I liked what they had to say. The basic idea was that whatever we do from sunset on Rosh Hashanah until sunset two days later (the end of the holiday) sets the tone for what we will manifest the rest of the year. It’s like a two-day conscious creation exercise or Law of Attraction workshop. Pretty amazing, huh? I thought so. Now…can I manage for two days to really act the way I want my new year to be?

No worries. According to Rabbi Berg, if you mess up and yell at your kids or overspend, you need only repent, do good deeds, give charity to fix your mistakes…or something like that. The basic idea was that you can fix your mistakes…write in your Book of Life again…cocreate some more…attract in a better way the next day. You get the idea. It’s not all lost if you screw up during Rosh Hashanah. You can fix it afterwards. But…don’t miss the big opportunity to do some major conscious creating on the Jewish New Year!

On Going to NY to Visit My Mother

2007-08-27T07:24:00.000-07:00

Note: I wrote this blog three weeks ago while in New York visiting my mother. I haven’t had a chance to post it – or any other blog – because I was too busy getting ready for my son’s bar mitzvah…and then recovering from it! So, I’m posting it now with a few after-the-fact additions.

The air is humid and clammy – oppressive even – as the state suffers another day of a two-week-long heat wave. Actually, today it is not quite so hot yet, but that gift is due only to the fact that rain is imminent. The cicadas are loud, drowning out the chirping of the birds. I’m sitting on the screened in porch feeling as threatened as the rain.

My self lies at risk. Not my physical self but my emotional self. More specifically, my identity feels threatened every time I return to the home of my birth and into the presence of the only parent I have known since I was seven years old and my father died.

It’s strange how much influence someone can have over a 47-year-old woman. I pride myself in my independence and my strong sense of self. Yet, when I’m here I begin to feel like a child again, totally influenced by my mother’s opinion – one which today goes against everything I hold dear. She’s a lovely woman but with such a negative outlook on life. I have to struggle to stay positive and to not be brought down by her energy. And when her negativity is directed at me – or my two children – I find myself shrinking into the little girl I was so many years ago. I find myself questioning who I am and if that person is okay. I find myself trying my self as critically as she does.

Am I the only adult so affected by the opinions of their mother? When I am only talking to her on the phone it’s easier to stay centered and grounded in who I am. In her presence, however, it becomes so much more difficult.

I know I need to just let her negativity and her criticism just roll off my shoulders – and my psyche – but it isn’t always so easy. And I find myself getting angry instead and wanting to change her as much as she wants to change me. I want to shout at her, to make her see the error of her ways and views. Then I would be just like her…not that she shouts.

Maybe the trick is to feel compassion. She’s an 83-year-old woman who has lived alone ever since I left the house almost 20 years ago to go to college. She’s been a widow for almost 40 years. She’s set in her ways, and, despite her grumbling, she does a lot of nice things for a lot of people. She’s raised three girls by herself, put them through college, helped them when they were financially ailing, and supported them in the best way she knew how when they were down. Going back even further, her childhood was spent with an abusive father, and she escaped Europe without being killed by Hitler, although all her relatives with the exception on her immediate family died in concentration camps. She left her homeland to make a new life in Israel and then left that home for a life with her husband in the United States. And then he died and left her to fend for herself and her young family.

So, who am I to criticize her? Who’s to say I would be any different than she is if I had lived her life?

So, the key is to treat her as I’d like to be treated: To accept her for who she is. To not try and change her by putting in my opinions on her. To not influence her way of being or of seeing herself with my criticisms or negativity about her behavior and views. After all, when she does that to me, that’s when I shrink and lose my self. It doesn’t feel good to me, so why would it feel good to her?

She has a strong need to be right that I inherited. Being right in this case is best kept to myself. Trying to make her wrong is not better than her making me wrong. Someone once queried, “Do you want to be right, or do you want to be happy?” I’d rather be happy. And in the past, I haven’t been so happy around my mother. This time, I’ll try being happy rather than right, and accepting and compassionate of who she is. Maybe in return, I’ll find her doing the same. Isn’t that the Golden Rule? Treat others as you want to be treated? In either case, if I accomplish this new attitude, I’ll leave with my self intact.

Post Script: Easeir said than done. I was not so successful. I did not enjoy myself. My mother and I got into a fight. I left feeling angry, defeated, unable to follow through with my desire to visit and get along… I’ve still got a lot of learning to do on this front, a lot of practice to accomplish before I am successful at being with my mother and in her energy. I hope I can accomplish this before my next trip in November!

Everyone Has a Torah

2007-07-23T21:41:00.000-07:00

I’ve been thinking lately about who I am, what I am, what I do, and how I do it. A sudden death – like that of my daughter’s best friend – will do that to you…make you look at your life and re-evaluate how you are living it.

During this process, I decided to take a look at a web site of a woman who offers trainings that certify people to be life or spiritual coaches. I’ve been known to call myself a life coach, a Jewish life coach or – my favorite – a Kabbalistic conscious creation coach. I haven’t ever taken a course to be deemed “qualified” as a life coach, but I have a minor in psychology, and I’m a certified rebirther and a voice dialogue facilitator. I also read Tarot – soon from a Kabbalistic standpoint. Plus, my three years in a weekly women’s spiritual support group (where we did more powerful processing than in any therapist’s or coach’s office, I can assure you), my co-leading of a women’s support group and my leading of another spiritual support group I think do, indeed, qualify me as a coach of one sort or another. That said, I sometimes find myself thinking I need some sort of “credentials” that make my coaching “real” or “valid,” which explains why I was interested in this person’s coaching certification. I have a strong desire to be in integrity, and sometimes I’m afraid I’ll be seen as a fake, although I come from a very real place when I coach.

The fact of the matter is that, while I rarely see clients anymore (not for lack of desire but for lack of marketing) I do a lot of coaching through my writing, teaching and speaking. And why do I feel qualified to coach from this platform? Because I see myself as a person who teaches what I need to learn. I see myself as an Everywoman, who teaches from a place of knowing that I am not much different from most other people, and what has worked for me will probably work for someone else – or at least give them a jumping off point to find something that does work for them.

Today, however, I realized that there is another reason why I feel qualified to coach in this manner: Because I have a Torah.

In Judaism there is a saying, “Everyone has a Torah.” What’s a Torah? Normally we think of the Torah as the scrolls containing the handwritten version of the Five Books of Moses, also known as the Old Testament. So, how can each person have a Torah? Well, the wisdom contained within those scrolls also is considered Torah. So, when we have wisdom of our own – a knowing deep inside about the truth of something – this is our Torah.

My writing, teaching and speaking most often represents a sharing of my Torah. It’s my own. No one else’s. (Well…as a journalist, I admit that I sometimes draw on the wisdom of others to support or to clarify my own beliefs.) So, maybe my Torah is tinged with the Torah of others, but as I add what they know to what I know, it becomes my unique Torah. And I’m the only one qualified to share that Torah with others or to use it to support them in their own spiritual or human growth and development.

That said, each person, indeed, has their own Torah to share. We are each such wise beings if we only allow ourselves to tap into that deep knowing that comes from our soul or from Higher Source.

When someone reads Torah – from the scroll – they use a small pointer that usually has a hand at the end with the index finger extended. This is called a yad, which, in Hebrew, means “hand.” Not only does this help them keep their place as they read, but it prevents the oil of their fingers from damaging the letters. While at an Aleph kallah a few years ago, I heard my teacher, Rabbi Moshe Aaron (Miles Krassen), offer a Torah – a teaching – that inspired me to want a yad, but not the kind used for reading Torah from the scroll. I wanted a “hand” to remind me of his teaching, which had nothing to do with reading Torah.

I didn’t find one, but in a Judaica shop I did see a tiny yad meant to be worn on a chain, but it was too expensive, and I didn’t purchase it. A year later I entered the shop again, and found that little yad still waiting for me in the display case – and the price was reduced making it possible for me to purchase it. I brought the yad even though it wasn’t exactly what I had in mind. I just felt that it was meant to be mine.

A year later, I wore that yad to a class at the 2005 Aleph kallah. I had had several encounters with people in my class (which this time was taught by Rabbi Maria Prager) that had made me understand why I was supposed to have this particular yad. I realized that each time we listen to a person talk, we are hearing their Torah. The act of listening is like reading Torah. My little yad served (serves) as a reminder that we are always reading Torah – hearing other people’s stories, learning their lessons, receiving their wisdom. I shared this Torah with the class.

In true Kabbalistic form, as we receive someone else’s Torah, we must give ours in return. For each of us truly has a Torah. And maybe if we each really read each other’s Torah – listened to each other from the heart – and shared our own – spoke our wisdom and truth from the heart – there would be less conflict in our lives and in the world. And we would become a world of wise, wise people that understood each other well.

I imagine that the World to Come will be time when we all read and offer Torah on a constant basis. Must we wait for the Messiah to bring such a time into manifestation, or is it our own Inner Messiah that will change the consciousness of the planet to one of true Torah, true wisdom and happiness? It is said that the Torah is “a Tree of Life to all who hold fast to Her and all her supporters are happy.” As we acknowledge and give our own Torah while receiving the Torah of others, we plant, fertilize and strengthen the Tree of Life thus helping it to bear fruit for all – happiness.

If I just remember this, I realize I don’t need any more certification than I have. No one can – or needs to – offer me credentials to read and offer Torah. Who am I? A person with a Torah. What am I? A Torah -- to be read and to be given. What do I do? I read Torah and I offer Torah. How do I do this? Happily from my heart and with my heart.

Out of the Darkness Comes Light

2007-07-13T17:45:00.000-07:00

Sometimes it’s difficult to have hope and faith. In the fact of my daughter’s best friend’s suicide, it seems nothing makes sense and the world appears dark and dreary and full of unfulfilled dreams. Hope and faith have left me like the breath left this young man. Me – Ms. Positive Thinker – suddenly feels drawn into the depth of depression and negative thoughts. And as my thoughts go, so does my ability to manifest what I desire.

I’ve seen the product of this week’s malaise clearly this week. My work seems at a standstill. Most possibilities of success have disappeared. I’m questioning who I am, what I am and what I do.

I was working on changes for my web site, and I suddenly thought to myself, “Does this represent who you are at all? Maybe it is time to get really clear about who you are.” But who am I? I don’t know right now.

Maybe what I am most at this moment is simply a mother, distraught over the pain my daughter finds herself coping with as she faces life without her dearest friend, a mother torn by the grief and despair of another mother whose son senselessly took his life leaving her behind to wonder why and to deal with her loss.

And I’m a writer. So, it’s time to begin writing again. It’s time to go back to my roots. It’s time to be the person I do know I am, to do what I know I can do adn do well.

I’ve been so caught up in doing all the things the publishing industry requires me to do in order to get published that I’ve stopped doing what I do best – writing. And I’ve been so caught up in the desire to publish a book that I’ve stopped seeing how I can influence and help others by using my journalistic ability to write articles.

Plus, in my attempt to get my own work published, I’ve stopped focusing on my ability to help other writers get published. I’ve turned away non-fiction editing work that would not only have allowed me to give the gift of a finished manuscript to another writer, which allows them to help others, but to help my family stay out of the financial hole in which we now find ourselves.

I was told that I could be the Suze Orman of Jewish women’s spirituality. Is that who I want to be? I’m not sure. I’m not creating that reality, that’s for sure, and that begs the question, “Am I not creating it, because it is not my path and my destiny?” Or “Am I not creating it, because I’m not applying the principles I know and teach? Do I need to practice what I preach?” Or “Am I not creating it, because it isn’t really what I want?” I don’t have the answers.

The only thing I know at this moment is that I don’t know. I don’t totally understand. The senseless loss of life has left me – and my husband – reevaluating who we are, how we live our lives and where we are going in this life time. I suppose that’s good. Of course, something good comes from everything – even tragedies – even if we can’t see that good initially. At least we have to trust and hope that this is so.

It this event has offered me a chance to give – to give support to the bereaved mother and her family, to give support to my child and to give advice to those trying to console their grieving children. I've wanted to move into a place of giving – and of recieving in order to give – and this has offered me that opportunity. Again something good comes from something bad.

May all affected by this tragedy find that little bit of light in the darkness and may it grow little by little until their lives are filled with light once again.

Spiritual Time Reminds Us of Who We Are

2007-06-20T16:23:00.000-07:00

On Monday I took my two children, aged 12 and 14, off to camp for a four-week stay. They go to camp every year, but this is the first time they have attended for more than three weeks. My son was so excited; camp is the highlight of his year. My daughter was less excited; she’s at that age when camp is no longer such a thrill (unless, like her brother, you live for camp) and she left a boyfriend behind, which made her very sad. My husband and I said goodbye to them with a mix of melancholy and joy. We always miss them and worry about them, but we are so thrilled to have a break and to get some time to ourselves. We always say, “We all need a break from each other.”

Since my husband goes off to work early and returns late, I have the whole day to myself when they are gone. I decided to treat myself each morning to spiritual time. First, I sit in my bedroom and read an inspiring book and a little of the Sefer Yetzirah (The Book of Creation). Then I write “morning pages” in my journal. Then I make tea and go upstairs to my meditation room, where I read a little of the Zohar, the most important Kabbalistic text written by Shimon Bar Yochai, a little of The Course in Miracles, and a page or two from Kabbalah 365. Then, I do Wayne Dosick’s 20 Minute Kabbalah practice, which involves a time for meditation or prayer, and then I finish up by pulling a Tarot card and two Kabbalah cards (from different decks). I write down the meaning of these (intuited or from a book) and then write a little about them in another journal.

(Unfortunately, I will not be able to continue this full process after these four weeks, since it has been taking me at least an hour and 45 minutes to complete, and I normally don’t have that much time in the morning. During this time I will at least get me in the habit, and I can then pick and choose what I do each day, incorporating as many elements as time allows. I will, unfortunately, also miss one week while I am at the Aleph Kallah, but I plan to incorporate at least the morning pages and the 20 Minute Kabblah practice into my schedule there.)

I have to say that this time during the last two mornings has been so enjoyable and refreshing and rejuvenating, that I don’t want to do much the rest of the day! I just want to continue reading and meditating and chanting.

Today I really lucked out. A tree feel on some electrical wires not far from my house, which caused the electricity to go out. (That might not seem lucky, but keep reading…) In fact, the electricity has been out all day. So, I actually completed my morning with an hour long walk. It was perfect. I could do this easily every day, and I would probably actually get some real work done afterwards if I was simply writing my own books rather than feeling pressed to edit for clients, write queries to magazines, handle emails, prepare and schedule talks and workshops, etc. (I’d be inspired and in the flow for my own creative work, but I sometimes find that I’m less inspired or motivated to do things I “have” to do.) When I returned from the walk, I read and ate lunch in the sun on the deck with my two cats for company. I would have loved to then go into the garden, or continue reading, or meditate again…

Isn’t that the thing that stops so many of us from having a regular spiritual practice each morning? The fear that then that is all we will want to do – be spiritual? I know I’ve always been afraid that if I spent too much time meditating and doing spiritual rituals and praying and the like, I’d want to be like one of those hermits or gurus who just sits at the top of a mountain or in a cave communing with God. What would happen to my life? It would fall apart.

That’s the reason most of us don’t pursue really, truly having a spiritual experience. We’re too afraid of how the experience will change us and our lives. But it doesn’t have to be that way.

Jesus said it best; the goal is to “be in the world but not of it.” We must have the experience of our own other-worldly-ness and of God but bring that knowledge into this physical world to help us live in it more fully. We must all remember that we are “spiritual beings having a human experience” (Anyone know who said that?) not human beings having a spiritual experience. We must remember who we are and then bring that into the mundane, every day-ness of our lives.

Both yesterday and today I received a messages pertaining to this idea. On Tuesday it was during the meditation that is part of my 20 Minute Kabbalah practice and today it was afterwards when I pulled a Kabbalah card. Both times I was told to reconnect with the spiritual dimension – with God – continually during the day.

Today, before my walk, I also treated myself to a phone session with a dowser. (Yes, they not only find water but clear energy and do healing work – even by phone.) I wanted to clear some blocks I felt I had concerning my work and my health. Interestingly, he reiterated this same point before we hung up. He told me that during the day I could spend 15 seconds thinking about him, thereby tapping back into his energy. He sees himself as a conduit for this energy – be it Divine energy or healing energy or whatever type of energy you want to call it. So, I see his message as similar to the others: Don’t let the whole day go by without connecting and reconnecting to the spiritual dimension and to God. Don’t forget that you are part of that dimension even as you exist on this physical plane. Remember that you are a spiritual being having a human experience. Don’t lose your connection to God and the Divine flow of energy and goodness.

I’ll be looking forward to the morning…and reconnecting a little bit here and there until the dawn comes.

What's the Secret? Be Happy

2007-06-10T21:28:00.000-07:00

I’ve been suffering from all sorts of medical ailments, which are mostly related to perimenopause. Dry eye. Weight gain. Migraine headaches. Aches and pains. It was the constant headaches – basically every day – that sent me to the doctor, however. Although she agreed that most of my problems came from age – nice to hear – and the changes through which my body was going, she said they could also be stress related or at stress aggravated. She felt the muscles in my shoulders, neck and head and said, “Go to a massage therapist every week. And have some fun.”

I had just finished telling her how the most fun I had every day was eating the great dinners I cook. I know I overeat to compensate for the fact that, sadly, eating is my most enjoyable activity each day. If I can’t do something for myself during the day, I figure I can at least eat what I like…and enough to feel really full and satisfied. I know that’s not only unhealthy but not true happiness either.

Sad to think that I might not be happy. Or am I? How often do I do things that make me smile or laugh? How often am I carefree, spontaneous, and feeling really good? Not too often.

Anyone who has ever watched the DVD or read the book The Secret or has listened to or read the teachings of Abraham as channeled by Esther Hicks knows that for the so-called secret – combining thoughts of what we want with feelings of already having it – to work, we must feel good. Abraham explains why: When we feel good, we vibrate at a frequency that allows in what we want. This is the Law of Allowing. In order to receive what we want, we must, therefore, feel good. We must be happy.

Uh, oh…maybe that’s why I’m not manifesting all my desires.

The Kabbalists say something quite similar. They say that as long as we are focused on what we want, which is an affirmation of lack, we are unhappy and aren’t allowing ourselves to receive what we want. We also are never satisfied with what we receive. We could ask for and receive a million dollars and then immediately want two million dollars. Thus, we are unhappy much of the time and die with 50% of our desires unfulfilled.

The main thing that stops us from being happy – and therefore receiving – is the unhappiness that we have because we feel separate from God. The Kabbalah Center calls this “bread of shame,” but I hate that term. It doesn’t sit right with me. The wife of Rabbi Ashlag calls it the “suffering of separation.” I like that better and it resonates as true. What she means is this: We suffer as long as we see ourselves as separate from God, because what we want it to be one with the Creator.

(This goes back to my last blog where I talked about the separation caused by God giving and us receiving. As long as there is a giver and a receiver, we are two individual entities. We are the receivers and God is the Giver. We have to learn to give unconditionally – to receive only to give – in order to act and be like God, thus causing us to feel and remember our oneness, our unity with God. Then we are happy. Then we receive all of God’s goodness.)

So, our work lies in finding ways to feel our oneness with God. The kabbalists would say, transform your consciousness. That new consciousness should be your primary desire. What is this consciousness? To give unconditionally. To receive only to give. Then we behave in a God-like manner…we become the giver and in the process we receive. What do we receive? Happiness. And with that happiness, we open ourselves to receive the constant flow of goodness from God. All our wishes are granted. All our dreams become manifest.

That’s the real secret – or maybe just the next level, the next phase that no one’s talking about.

It would be easier, I think, to go out dancing, see a comedic movie tak a walk in the woods. I'll try both...to do things that make me happy and to change my nature to one of receiving to give. I'll keep you posted on my progress.

The Law of Attraction: If You Don’t Want to Receive in Order to Give, You May Not Get

2007-05-29T14:13:00.000-07:00

I had the most phenomenal conversation this morning with a Kabbalist in Safed, Israel, that gave me a much clearer understanding of how the Law of Attraction works from a Kabbalistic spiritual perspective. Given the fact that I do, in fact, believe that our thoughts are creative and that what we focus upon expands, and that I hear the criticism being heaped upon the author of The Secret for her book and DVD’s materialistic bent, I wanted to share a little of what I’ve learned.

As Avraham Loewenthal, a Kabbalist and artist who’ve I’ve mentioned before, explains it, the fact that we want something for ourselves is natural. Desire is part of our inherent nature. Of course we want to get “things” or to receive them; therefore, we want to discover how to get what we want.

Along the way, we realize that we receive most easily when we are in the process of giving. Giving makes us happy. When we are giving, we are open and able to receive. We become a vessel to hold God’s ever flowing abundance and goodness. That’s why when we are giving we feel happy. And when w are happy, we find that the things we want are easier to obtain. Sometimes they even just come to us.

That leads us to a consciousness of giving to get something in return. It’s a step in the right direction, but we aren’t yet there. Next, we must learn to receive for the sake of giving. At this stage, what we want cannot be found in anything physical for our desire is for a new consciousness, a consciousness that wants to receive for the sake of giving. This represents giving in the truest sense.

God gives, and we receive, but as long as we only receive – or we try to get “things” for our own purposes -- God remains the giver and we remain the receiver. We remain separate from the Divine. When we receive in order to give – by giving purely out of a desire to give, we remove the separation between the ultimate giver – God – and the receiver – all of creation. We become one with God, who’s only known characteristic is Its ability to give goodness to creation. When we begin giving for the sake of giving, we we are expressing that part of us that is created in God’s image, and the separation between Giver and receiver disappears.

That said, it isn’t easy to accomplish this feat. Yet, Avraham taught me, it is in the effort of trying that we find that we are truly doing the work we were put her to do. And part of that work involves being grateful for what we do have, being happy where we are now, having faith that what we desire will come to us, and cheerfully accepting that if we don’t receive what we want or need right now, something better will come to us in just the right time. I learned something similar from another Abraham, the one channeled by Esther Hicks. Abraham teaches that we must learn to be happy where we are, because if we are constantly wishing to be somewhere else, we will always be in a place of lack. And from a place of lack, we receive only more lack. But if we are happy and grateful in the moment, we open ourselves to receiving something else – something that resonates with the vibration of happiness and gratitude rather than with the vibration of lack.

That’s if for now…I’m off to try and practice this. Easier said than done, I know. Thanks for letting me try and explain these difficult concepts here in my blog first. They'll be put into by Abracadabra! booklet next. If you have any comments or thoughts, please e-mail me. I'd loe to discuss these concepts.

Sharing My Good News: An Agent for Every Book Project!

2007-05-25T08:30:00.000-07:00

For any writers out there, I want to share some really fabulous news. (I know, I usually try to write something thought provoking or that teaches a principle of some sort, but today I just had to share!) I have managed to go from having no literary agent representing me to having two – well…actually three – representing me all at one time! Yahoo! Thank God! Baruch HaShem! And they’ll all be at the Book Expo America in New York at the beginning of June peddling my three current book projects. Can you believe it? I can hardly believe it myself! I am so very, very grateful to them for believing in me, my work and my projects. And they all tell me that they hope to bring me good news come the first week of June, and, God willing, they will.

So, I have found an agent to take on my Jewish celebrity cookbook project, which should have been in stores for the 2006 holiday season…but wasn’t. If you recall, that book had a publisher, but the book was returned to me so I could find a larger publishing house to take it on. Yesterday, I found the perfect agent to take on that job for me, and she feels confident that she will have success in doing so. Yeah! I’m grateful to the 90 celebrities who signed on to that project and offered me their time, support, stories, and recipes. If the book is successful, we will all help MAZON: A Jewish Response to World Hunger help others around the world.

And, as you already know, my other agent is shopping my candle lighting as a spiritual practice book. She has another agent in her firm also selling my book on boys in the dance world, which was inspired by my son’s dancing endeavors.

(Okay…don’t ask how I will write two books at once, handle anything thrown at my by the publisher of the cookbook – which is complete -- and keep up with my client’s editing. I should be so lucky to have that problem.)

Shabbat is nearing quickly…and when I light the candles later this evening I will have so much for which to be grateful and I will celebrate my success by allowing myself to welcome in the Shechinah and to rest peacefully and joyfully in this sanctuary in time. As I work madly on trying to make the changes to the cookbook proposal my new agent requested, I will feel so filled with gratitude and with wonder at how the Universe works. I attribute my “success” not only to my diligence and perseverance, but the powerful energy of my intention and my knowing that I would, indeed, get these works published. I totally trusted…well, I had times of doubt, especially with the cookbook, but I would shrug that off and get back to work and back into a place of knowing it would work out.

Last week I resigned myself to approaching not only two new agents (on the suggestion of the last agent who had just turned down my cookbook project) and three small publishers (one the suggestion of my first agent and the person who brought the cookbook project to me in the first place. That said, when I actually sat myself down to write the letters and put the packages together, I did so with the intention of actually finding an agent. I changed my AOL password to reflect my desire to have an agent of a publisher for the manuscript by 6-07. Every time I typed in that password, I remembered my goal while at the same time I knew that as I had placed the parcels in the mailbox I had released the book and its outcome to a higher source. I had released it. I stopped thinking or worrying about it, except each time I typed in that password and affirmed that I would, indeed, have an agent or a publisher by June.

Now, I do this thing with the password all the time. Sometimes it works and sometimes it doesn’t. I think so much of what makes it successful comes down to my own attitude. How strong is my intention? Have I released whatever it is I want, thus creating space to receive my desire, or am I holding on to it and filling myself with worry and negative thoughts? Am I trusting that what is for my highest good and the highest good of the project and those concerned with it will come to pass? Am I offering gratitude to God for my desired outcome having become manifest even thought it actually hasn’t yet; in other words, am I trusting that it has manifest in the World Above and will, therefore, soon manifest in the World Below? Am I behaving “as if” what I want already exists in my life and feeling all the joy and fulfillment that would come with that experience?

If I can answer “yes” to these questions, my affirmation works well, because of all these other things I have done. And that’s the “secret” to manifesting what we want, isn’t it?

By the way, my new booklet, Abracadabra! The Kabbalah of Creation, 7 Mystical Steps to Manifesting Your Dreams and Desires will be available in July! It will talk about some of the tools I use to create what I want in my life, and today I realize more than ever how very powerful those tools truly are. If you’ve heard of the bestselling book and DVD The Secret, my booklet (which will one day be a book – mark my words!) puts the principles set forth in The Secret through a Jewish mystical lense. (You can preorder it now in my store.)

So, I will move through today gladly putting my energy into the last thing I personally can do to sell my Jewish celebrity cookbook – finishing the proposal. Then I will again release the project – this time to my new agent as well as to my God. May the perfect publisher take on the book.

Ken yehe ratzon. May it be God’s will.

Shabbat shalom!

Shavuot: Coming to Mt. Sinai and Into the Presence Again

2007-05-18T19:22:00.000-07:00

Shavuot hovers less than a week away, a chance to once again stand at Mt. Sinai and receive the 10 commandments and the Torah. Yes, stand once again, for it is said that every Jews was present at the giving of the Torah.

When we celebrate Shavuot by staying up all night studying we move through 50 “gates” on our spiritual journey to experiencing God – to once again standing in the Divine Presence. As the first rays of light crest the nearest mountain or ocean or plain, God draws closer and we rise to meet Ruach HaOlam, the Spirit of the Universe..

What a beautiful vision.

I turned down the opportunity to teach on Shavuot. I have children and a husband and work, and I can’t give up the whole next day to sleep. Maybe I would be so refreshed by the experience that I would have no problem getting through the day, but I know my rabbi has cancelled all b’nei mitvah tutoring for that, I assume to sleep and rest. I’m sure I would not have been functional after being up all night.

While part of me wants to stay up on my own – I know someone who does that – I know I will be long asleep when the sun begins to rise. So, I began to wonder: Are there other ways to reach this height, to move through the gates, and to be in God’s presence?

My first thought was that we stand in God’s presence each Friday evening when we light the Shabbat candles, this time just before sundown. The lighting of the candles and the blessings we say invoke the presence of the Shechinah, the Divine Feminine. In Jewish tradition, each time we study Torah, God joins us. And each time we build a mishkan, a sanctuary, God joins us there.

I believe God joins me what I pray earnestly, when I speak from the heart and when I meditate and experience even one moment of being in the now – for God resides in the moment.

People have always believed that there were times when the veil between heaven and earth became thing and it was easier to access and to experience “the other side” – Divinity, Heaven on Earth, something greater than ourselves. Shavuot represents one of those times.

So, in whatever way you can, I suggest using the energy of Shavuot to move through the veil, to invoke the Divine Presence, to rise to meet the Creator. Do it in whatever way you like – studying all night, meditating, praying, conducting a ritual of your own making. I plan to do a little studying , a little praying, a little meditating, all within the structure of a ritual. What ritual? I’ve a few days to think about it…and I hope that when the time comes, I will open to the Diving flow of light and energy and know exactly what to do and that my actions and invocations will bring me to the foot of Mt. Sinai once again.

Ken yehe ratzon. May it be God’s will.

A Kabbalistic Conscious Creation Session -- By Myself, For Myself

2007-05-09T22:02:00.000-07:00

With all the buzz about the best-selling book The Secret and my own focus on looking at conscious creation, or what these days is most commonly called The Law of Attraction, from a Kabbalistic perspective, you’d think I’d focus my thoughts with little problem. While I am normally in the habit of focusing my thoughts of what I want – and combining these with my feelings of having what I want – on a regular basis, these last two weeks I just can’t seem to focus on anything. Nor can I add in the final step to the conscious creation process – action. As a result, I’m not achieving the results I want. (Maybe that's why it's taken me so long to post a new blog...) I’m not manifesting my desires – in fact, I’m often creating just the opposite.

I get up in the morning and immediately my mind tries to go in too many directions at once, but since you can only think about one thing at a time, it just jumps from one subject or interest or issue to the next continuously. This renders me unable to concentrate on any one thing. I feel like I’m in a meditator’s worst nightmare. Of course, my feelings jump around along with my thoughts, leaving me with the sense that I’m playing emotional leap frog. Not only can’t I seem to train my thoughts or feelings on any one thing for any length of time, I also can’t seem to put energy into action for more than 15 minutes at a time. I sit at my desk all day and feel totally distracted and unfocused and don’t get anything done.

Yet, because I am not disciplined with my thoughts, they go where they like. My thoughts are on things I don’t want, things I don’t like, such as being scattered, not getting things done, fears that my lack of focus will result in negative consequences (unhappy clients, rejected manuscripts and proposals, not enough money). It’s as if it’s easier to think about what I don’t want than what I do want.

So, is it something in the stars affecting me in this way? It would be nice to blame my condition on something out of my control. Actually, I think the problem is simply that I have too much going on – really. I’m scattered. If I’m not working on one book project, I’m working on another. Or I’m trying to teach a teleseminar or write a booklet. Or I’m promoting myself on line or trying to get speaking gigs at radio shows or at synagogues and churches. And when I’m not doing those work-related activities, I’m playing taxi drive to my two kids, acting as my son’s talent agent and manager, planning meals, shopping and running errands, and handling camp physicals and other doctor’s appointments. Oh, then there’s the bill paying, gardening, cleaning, and laundry to handle as well. And, I’m supposed to exercise at some point… So, what’s a girl to do? What would a Kabbalistic conscious creation coach – or a teacher of The Secret (the Law of Attraction) – tell me to do?

Ah, well…I would tell the girl – me – to take a deep breath and stop for a moment. Then I’d tell her to make a list of the projects at hand, the things she wants to create and the desires she is wanting to fulfill. Then, I’d tell her to chunk them down into two or three tasks. I’d have her break her day into sections, with each section devoted to one thing only. I would tell her to turn off the phone and shut down her Internet connection – unless that portion of the day was devoted to phone calls or e-mails – and to only focus on that one job at hand. First, as Esther Hicks channeling Abraham would say, do a little segment intending. Focus on what you want during this segment of your day. Imagine yourself accomplishing what it is you want to accomplish and feel what it would be like to reach that goal. Think it, feel it, visualize it – and then take action for the allotted amount of time.

I would also recommend that when she wakes up and she spend 10 minutes focusing on her goals before she ever gets going with her day. I’d have her say the goal as an affirmation – a positive statement of the goal achieved or what she wants received – and then follow this with a brief visualization of what it would look and feel like to have accomplished what she set out to accomplish. Then I’d have her spend a few minutes several times during the day reviewing those goals. She’d end her day by looking at the goals she needs to work on again the next day and writing new ones for the following day.

Lastly, I’d have her start and end each day with a prayer that all her thoughts, words, feelings, and actions be devoted to serving God and the highest good of all who will be touched by her actions and goals achieved.

Lastly, since she has spent the majority of the day in the Kabbalistic worlds of thinking, feeling and doing, I’d recommend that she spend some time in the evening – and maybe in the morning as well or just before beginning work – in the world of being. This could mean meditating, praying, chanting, or simply staring at the wall. This would allow her to get in touch with herself and with a Higher Power, so she would allow a Divine flow into her life.

That’s it: Kabbalistic conscious creation for the person who has too much going on to focus – or who needs a way to focus so she or he can effectively create what they want rather than what they don’t want. A trip through the worlds of being, thinking, feeling, and doing as a way of getting focused and moving towards what we want to manifest. The Kabbalists would say that in this way we don’t attract but we instead create our desires.

Now…let’s see if I can take my own advice and make that Kabbalistic trip myself.

When It Is More Painful to Blossom Than to Remain a Bud

2007-04-17T21:34:00.001-07:00

Someone recently sent me an e-mail with the following quote in the signature:

“And the day came when the risk it took to remain tight inside the bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”

These words come from Anais Nin, a writer whose journals contain more than this one beautiful quote. I printed it out in 24-point type and taped it below my computer screen.

These days, I totally relate to Nin’s sentiment. I feel as if I’ve long ago begun to allow the bud that is my professional potential as a writer to begin the process of opening. I have given each petal permission individually, hesitantly, cautiously, to begin to loosen its grip on the bud. Now, the process can no longer be controlled. The petals release themselves from their tight cluster with abandon, spreading themselves wide, and the bud is quickly looking more like a bloom.

There’s an energy that has been released in the process that won’t allow me to go backwards. Oh, part of me would really like to go backwards, like when I rewind a movie I’ve recorded. It would feel much safer to be in that bud, but my inner self, my soul, won’t let me do that. It keeps pushing me forward, making me become what I am supposed to become. It persistently offers me new inspiration, more commitment, a higher level of desire. And now, indeed, it feels more painful to remain where I’ve been than to move towards where I’m going. I can do nothing but flower.

Now, will that flower be one seen by the world? I don’t know. Will it be seen by some? Very likely. Does it matter? Well, as a writer, I’d be lying if I said it didn’t matter to me at all. However, the main thing is that I fulfill my purpose – to help others through my writing and speaking.

And isn’t that all a flower does when it blooms? No one has to even see it blooming, admire it’s beauty or even smell it’s fragrance, and it still fulfills its purpose – to grow, to bud and to blossom.

Why then, when a flower fulfills its purpose seemingly effortlessly, is it so difficult for us humans to do so? Why has it felt like such a struggle to find an agent, to sell an article, to obtain a book contract, to increase the size of my mailing list, to enroll people in my classes? Why does my life, at every turn, seem to make it even more difficult with lack of time, financial issues, family responsibilities? And why do I balk, feeling not good enough, insecure, afraid. Oh…so many days I’d love to go back into that bloom. It would feel so much safer to be there now. But the bud never remains a bud…unless it dies I bud. I don’t want to die a bud.

I remember taking a human potential class where we talked about “unfolding.” The result of our fear of exposing ourselves and being who we truly are was described as “folding up” like a piece of paper. We were told to “unfold.” Little by little I’m unfolding, but that is a process that to some extent I can control.

The flower within me, however, is uncontrollable. I seem to have no choice at this point but to blossom – unless of course I allow the bud to whither and die on the stalk. I don’t think I can live with that…it would be too painful. So, like Nin, it seems the day has come when the risk of remaining tight inside the bud is more painful than the risk it will take to blossom.

Signs of Life After Death and Passover Narrow Places

2007-04-09T17:30:00.000-07:00

Okay, so Passover is over. I feel like I missed most of it…and while I’ve moved through a few narrow places and come out the other side of the parted waters, I’m still stuck in a few other tight spots.

I missed a good bit of Passover this year, because my father-in-law passed away on Friday, March 30th at about 8:35 PST. I know the approximate time, because my kids and I were in the process of doing Shabbat blessings (a little late, I know…). We had lit the Shabbat candles and said a special prayer for their grandfather, Miles, to have an easy transition and each in our own way said good bye to him – let him go. Some time after the candle blessing and before the blessing for the challah, one of our candles went out, and I checked the time as I wondered if this was a sign that Miles was gone. About 15 minutes later, my husband, Ron, called to tell me Miles had died. I knew then for sure that my father-in-law had heard our prayers, come to say goodbye and then had felt released. Granted it was not just our prayers that released him. His wife had just gone to bed. My husband had already voiced that he was ready for his Dad’s suffering – and his own – to end. Still, it provided me and my children with evidence of the non-local nature of the soul and of life after death. It proved to me once again that prayers have tremendous power.

So, we cancelled our first-night seder and boarded a plane on Monday morning to go to Missouri for a funeral. We had a hard time observing the dietary restrictions while staying in my mother-in-law’s home, but we finally opened out boxes of matzoh on Thursday upon returning home and had a seder on the seventh night of the holiday rather than not at all.

As for narrow places...well, my father-in-law’s illness and passing definitely constituted one. There has been my search for an agent, which is over, but I am still waiting for a publisher for that book and literary representation for my cookbook...and that feels like a narrow place (widening a bit but still tight). Time continues to feel tight, and my work load feels crushing. Financially, my husband and I are in a tight spot as well, but it should be opening up soon as well. So, some freedom has been achieved, but I don’t feel totally on dry land yet.

Is it possible to be totally on the other side of the Red Sea, dry and free? Or is there always another narrow place? Is it like one birth canal after another? Can we be sure the waters will always part when we find ourselves trapped on the edge of the ocean? Will there be life on the other side?

I suppose life often presents us with narrow places. More than that I see that when we keep putting goals in front of ourselves – like writing a book…and earning more money…and getting in shape…and losing 10 pounds…and proposing another book – we continually create new narrow places. And if we keep moving forward with faith – like Nachshon entering the water of the Red Sea up to his nose – the waters do, indeed, part. We aren’t always sure what we will find on the other side, but with faith and perseverance we do end up on the other shore, closer to our goal, a little bit more free, changed a lot or a little, still alive.

So, here's to Miles, who lived a good life and lives on in the memories of his family and friends and whose memory is a blessing. And here's to narrow places, rebirths and life itself. L'chaim. To life. To Living.

Mitzrayyim Makes My Passover Meaning-full and Spirit-full

2007-03-29T00:33:00.000-07:00

I remember as a child sitting through the Passover seder each year with little sense of why I was there or what we were doing. I knew the Exodus story, but the actual celebration of Passover meant little to me. The only thing that got me out of the Mitzrayyim, the Hebrew word for Egypt, of the too-long ritual meal was drinking as much of the Manichewitz wine as the other children and I could without the adults noticing and sneaking bits of matzoh and charoset when we knew we weren’t supposed to be eating anything. We would get sillier as the evening wore on and were almost too giddy to consume the hard boiled eggs and matzoh ball soup we were served at the long-awaited start of the meal.

I continued celebrating Passover as a young adult more out of a sense of obligation than anything else. No matter where I lived, I would find somewhere to attend a seder, but other than feeling that I had done what “I was supposed to do” my observance of the holiday felt empty. Later, after marrying and having children, I began learning a bit more about the holiday and its symbolism, but I was more concerned with the fact that I couldn’t eat bread – my favorite food – for a week than I was about my ancestors being freed from slavery by a God with a mighty hand and an outstretched arm. In fact, except for the matzoh ball soup I ate just once a year – ‘till this day I wonder each year why I don’t make it more often –Passover felt devoid of anything meaningful or spiritual but full of a sense of being stuck in Mitzrayyim, a narrow place where I was enslaved by the rules and laws that went with the holiday.

As I began to host my own seders, and as my family became more ritually observant, Passover became a new type of Mitzrayyim. I had to figure out how to get from the slavery of housecleaning, reviewing haggadot and stressing over the actual seder leading to the other side of the Red Sea where I could return to “normal” living without fear of hametz in corners, making a ritual faux pas or accidentally ingesting something that puffs up when cooked. (See my article on this subject at http://www.jewishmag.com/112mag/passover-prep/passover-prep.htm)

These days, however, Mitzrayyim provides the meaning to my Passover observance and my seder. I find that revolving the week, as well as the seder, around the idea of moving through narrow places, tight situations and difficult experiences lends meaning to all aspects of the holiday remembrance. I have discovered that looking at how I come through these and become someone new – am reborn – gives me a chance to connect with who I am at a deep enough level to make the experience spiritual as well. And after all, during the telling of the Passover story, we are supposed to all feel as if we were there at the edge of the Red Sea and on the other side.

It’s easy enough to find those narrow places that exist in our lives right now or have in the past 12 months. I have been through the narrow place of finding a literary agent, my father-in-laws cancer and impending death, money issues, and struggles with time (not having enough) and work (having it take over my life and my husband’s life). I’ve been in the Mitzrayyim of needing to create a teleclass, finish a book proposal, write an article on deadline. Any or all of these are things I can place on the Passover table – the misbeach (altar) – for all to see and to hear my story. My story, and my guests’ stories become the new version of the Passover story. They bring us to that place of feeling the struggle of slavery – to anything or anyone – and, if we are already on the other side of the parted sea, and the joy of freedom as if we were, indeed, there with those we read about in the Torah and with the story we retell in the Haggadah. It causes us to be present…now and then.

This practice, this new ritual, this focus, gives the holiday, the seder and the retelling of the story meaning for me and for my family and friends.

And, it reminds us to have faith that we will, indeed, come out of the tight place. All we need is to trust like Nachshon, who entered the waters of the Red Sea even when Moses could not part the waters with his words or his staff. He walked into the water until it was up to his nose and he couldn’t take another breath without drowning. And then the waters parted. His faith caused the miracle to occur. And our faith can do the same today, now, in this moment, or the next time we feel ourselves squeezed, in a tight place, between a rock and a hard place, in Mitzrayyim.

And this brings into the observance of Passover and the ritual seder a sense of spirituality.

Thus, for me at least, revolving my Passover observances around this idea transforms the cleaning, the food restrictions, the seder – all the elements of this holiday – from empty observances to both meaning-full and spirit-full ones. And, I’m released from the Mitzrayyim I’ve experienced around this holiday in the past. Ah…Another tight place from which I have escaped, been released, been freed, to share, and one which I can place on the Passover table with the others.

(I’m sorry to stay that I remain in Mitzrayyim, however, when it comes to not eating bread for a week...)

Happy Pesach!

Memories

2007-03-14T07:14:00.000-07:00

“Memories…misty water-colored memories, of the way we were…” I can hear Barbara Streisand singing from my past (but I can’t remember all the words).

Last week I received an e-mail from an acquaintance of mine from college. He remembers me well. He recalls eating lunch with me on many occasions, me briefly dating his roommate and running into me at a mall during spring break. I don’t remember him at all. His photo brings with it a vague memory too hazy to bring into focus. And I thought I had such great memory -- especially when it came to people and events.

I do, really, but not for people, it seems. Recently my high school had a decade reunion – people who graduated between 1980 and 1990 got together. I didn’t attend, but I looked at the photos posted on line. I recognized very few people. Many names were familiar, but it was hard to put the faces with those names. Of course, time had caused many people to change their looks – hair was shorter or longer or grey or nonexistent, bodies were heavier – and that made it recognition more difficult.

It was odd to hear from this man and to look at his photo. He’s handsome, successful, has a family, enjoys time with friends, and leads what he calls an “exciting life.” I wonder why we didn’t connect in school. A nice Jewish boy too shy to ask anyone on a date – or lacking enough confidence, as he told me, I would have likely been quite happy to get to know him better. As I told him, I never found one boy in college I really liked or felt I could stay with for very long. What might have happened had we actually dated?

He told me about his father dying, needing to work to go to school, feeling as if no one would be interested in him. I wish I’d known that much about him. Did he ever tell me his story, I wonder? Did he know that my father died when I was just 7? Did I ever tell him that we had some things in common? Did I tell him I was looking to date a Jewish guy? Did he want to date a Jewish girl?

And why would he contact me now, after all this time? Yes, he found me on the Internet…doing a search of some sort, I suppose. I’ve been all over the Internet lately as I try to promote myself and my writing. But why now? Things happen for a reason…

I told my girlfriend that I thought it odd that someone I might have considered dating in college would suddenly contact me now…when I am on the verge of success. I’ve always had this fear that success might take me away from my husband. I’ve always considered the possibility that I might meet someone while out “on the road” with my books and my teaching. Not that I want that to happen…I just considered the possibility. It’s been part of my fear of success.

This guy made no advances. Nothing like that. Just contacted me. But it brought up my stuff.

And it also made me think about how much I enjoy talking to people who “knew me when.” There’s a context in relationships that go way back that you don’t have in newer relationships. I love getting together with old high school friends for that reason; they don’t just see you for who you are now; they see you for who you were and who you’ve become. What would it be like to get together with this man? Would I remember him if I saw him in person? Would memories flood back?

I liked looking at this man’s picture and trying to remember him “when.” He’s grown up so nicely, looks like such a nice man…

Why do people meet at certain times or run into each other after many years? My girlfriend said, maybe this was more about him than about me. Maybe. Maybe it is about the fact that the publishing company for which he works also owns some magazines that I might be interested in contacting…maybe it’s because my other girlfriend might want to write for his magazines. Maybe there is nothing at all to the contact he made…

But it still leaves me to wonder…and to feel grateful and honored for being remembered.

Maybe this “meeting” was to show me that I need to try harder to remember people. I rarely remember names of people I’ve briefly met. That’s not a good thing for someone in my line of work. People are important to me. Yet, I taught a class of students for three months and could hardly remember their names. I’d hate to think some people aren’t important enough to me to remember their names or to care enough about their details to commit them to memory. Usually I at least remember their faces. In fact, I’m good at that.

I met with a rabbi this past weekend, someone who contacted me “out of the blue.” Actually, he read a comment I made on a list serve and then looked me up on my web site. I didn’t remember having met him before. He wasn’t sure we had met previously either but thought the photo on my web site looked familiar. As I walked towards him, I immediately recognized him as someone I’d met at the last Aleph Kallah. His face was familiar. However, he remembered having a conversation with me and me introducing him to a friend. I didn’t remember that. Again, I felt grateful and honored to be remembered. And I felt sorry to not remember more about him, especially since he appears to be a very knowledgeable and nice man with whom I have a lot in common.

I’m still not sure I know the significance of these events…maybe they’ll become apparent later…but it’s been nice to bask in the knowledge that I am remembered.

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When is a Labyrinth like Writing and Publishing?

2007-02-22T00:45:00.000-08:00

Last weekend I attended my third San Francisco Writer’s Conference, a wonderful event for “dreamers” with the vision of writing a book and having it published. As one of those dreamers, I attended classes to learn how to accomplish my goal of becoming a published non-fiction author. I highly recommend this conference for any and all serious writers, and the quality of the lectures improves every year.

After three days of socializing with fellow writers and learning from experts in the world of publishing, I left the conference, which was held at the Intercontinental Mark Hopkins Hotel on Nob Hill in San Francisco. A friend of mine had told me to stop at Grace Cathedral, which sits at the center of Nob Hill, and walk its labyrinth. Since I had never done so, I thought it a fitting ritualistic ending to my conference experience. Plus, the weather was beautiful and it was a perfect day for this activity. (On rainy days, you can walk the labyrinth inside the cathedral instead of the one outside.)

As I entered the labyrinth, I tried to quiet my mind, which was still filled with the excitement of meeting with agents, learning how to promote myself as a writer and stories of successful writers. I walked slowly, focusing on my footsteps. I must have looked a bit strange, since I was carrying a large vase of flowers, which I had "purchased" from the dining room with a donation towards the conference student scholarship fund. I imagined myself as a priestess carrying her offering towards the center of the labyrinth. As I progressed little by little, moving steadily toward the center, then doubling back and moving away, then meandering along the outskirts of the maze, then back again towards the center in a snake-like fashion, it dawned on me that the labyrinth provided a perfect metaphor for the publishing business. To many writers -- myslef included, it seems that success is hidden somewhere (at the center) but the path to the goal of a published book sometimes take strange twists and turns and seems to lead us away from our goal. Sometimes we seem so close; in fact, we can see the center (a published book) as we walk just along the goal's edge, but then wefind ourselves led far away again to the edges of the labyrinth. And sometimes we are too far away to get a good look at the center. Plus, it seems to take perseverance and patience and determination – traits necessary to succeed in publishing -- to make your way 'round and 'round the labyrinth to the center point.

I did make it to the center of the Grace Cathedral labyrinth. There, I paused. I waited. (In the center, you are supposed to get a message or the answer to a question posed at the start of your walk.) I hadn’t posed a question; I’d asked too many during the last three days. In my head, the Still Small Voice said, “There’s nothing to do once you go in but to go back out.”

“Ah…just like writing,” I thought. You have to go inward to discover what you will write, to formulate your thoughts and assumptions, to find the inspiration for your ideas and the insights for your unique angle. And then, you must look and move outward. You have to begin writing and do whatever it takes to put that writing into the world for others to read.

I began walking again, this time away from the center of the labyrinth and back towards the entrance – now the exit. I retraced my steps, something I've done more than once during many a writing process. I made myself look up, not at my feet. I had to see where I was going, as any writer must. I had to look ahead. I walked now with anticipation and eagerness, like a writer in the flow, knowing what I want to say, how to say it and how to get from the beginning of the article, chapter or book to the end.

Yet, sometimes the writing process takes us in a different direction than we plan…just like the labyrinth. We think we are almost done, and then we turn a corner and head in another direction. We think we are close to the end, but we find ourselves as far away from the exit (the last words of the writing project) as we can possibly get. So we keep on writing, editing, revising, rewriting, until we weave our way out of our writing and into the world of published books. It seems the labyrinth represents a perfect metaphor for writing as well.

I left a carnation in the middle of the labyrinth…my offering to the publishing god or goddess or maybe to my higher self (the Still Small Voice), who always leads me in the right direction or to my inner priestess, who can not only invoke the Divine into a sacred space – like the center of the labyrinth – but also help me manifest my heart’s desire – a published book (or books).

When you are finding it difficult to write, or need an answer to a problem, take a trip to your nearest labyrinth. Pose your question or request before you begin. When you reach the center, see if an answer comes to you or an inspiration for your project. If not, keep walking and the answer will meet you on your way out. For more information on labyrinths, check out my article on the subject: http://www.consciouschoice.com/2002/cc1501/localgardens1501.html.

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The Secret – Not So Secret

2007-02-13T20:51:00.000-08:00

Last Thursday I eagerly settled in to watch Oprah Winfrey host a show about the book and DVD called The Secret. She was hosting a guest panel of five people, including Jack Canfield (author of the Chicken Soup for the Soul series). All of these men and women, who are featured on the DVD, literally were beaming with happiness and excitement about being on the show. (Well, who wouldn’t be excited and happy under those circumstances? Oprah makes the careers of many, and authors in particular salivate at even the idea of being a guest on her show. I know I do. Such an appearance can be the difference between a slow or a best seller. As a writer, I’m keenly aware of Oprah’s influence and power.) However, I, too, was beaming. And as I watched and listened, tears came to my eyes.

(By the way, a similar panel from The Secret appeared on Larry King not once but twice! This was amazing to me as well, but I missed both shows.)

No, the show was not one of those tearjerkers that Oprah is known to air. My tears were of amazement…amazement that the spiritual or metaphysical principles I was taught some odd 20 years ago had finally, finally gone mainstream. Oprah, too, said she had known these principles for many years. And at a Chabad class I’m attending, this week’s class included related information. And I’ve heard teachings within Christianity that speak to these same truths. A channeler on a CD I was listening to in my car last week was discussing similar ideas. And I’ve found the same lessons within Kabbalah, the Jewish mystical tradition. In fact, this secret has been around – and known by many – for eons. (I might mention that those involved with The Secret do agree with this fact and state so plainly.) The secret is not new. It has simply never been widely broadcast – which, I guess, made it a secret – until now.

It is this secret that I’ve been so jazzed about for so long. It is this secret that I’ve incorporated into my Jewishly-oriented writing and teaching. This secret represents the foundation for the work I do as a Kabbalistic conscious creation coach.

So, what is this secret? It’s the combining of thought, feeling and action to manifest our dreams. It’s the experiencing of what we want and the goals we set as if they existed right now in this moment. It’s the way the Universe, science and God bring us the things we desire. It’s the Law of Attraction, an undeniable truth that says that what we think is what we create, what we focus our attention upon expands, what we put out into the world is what we get back, what we feel creates a vibrational pull that attracts like vibrational things into our experience.

Okay, some of you are bound to be saying, “Baloney. I didn’t create that car accident I was in last week. I didn’t create this weight problem. I didn’t create the cancer in my body. I didn’t create a cheating partner. I didn’t want these things.” It’s hard to believe that we could have created such unwanted events, but the fact is that sometimes we do. (This, by the way, is where we have to be very careful not to take on what used to be called “New Age Guilt.” Now it can be called “The Secret Guilt.”) We don’t have to feel badly that we might have caused something bad to happen. We need to realize that not all our thoughts are conscious ones. And it doesn’t matter to the Universal law that one thought is conscious and the other unconscious. It only matter how strongly we think that thought and how often. The strongest most frequent thought wins in this game.

Plus, it’s not just about thoughts. Those thoughts generate feelings. And the feelings, like the thoughts, have an energy. That energy, much like a magnet, attracts things towards it, pulls them in, closer and closer – things with the same energy. So, if you feel angry or depressed all the time, your energy will draw more things into your life with those same basic vibrations.

So, what’s a girl or guy to do? We’re not always aware of our subconscious thoughts…duh, they are subconscious after all. True, but we can be conscious of our feelings. And we can change our feelings by focusing our thoughts on things that make us feel good. Esther Hicks, who channels “Abraham,” says to pet the cat when we feel sad. Do anything that changes your feeling to a more positive one. Go for a bike ride. Meditate. Take a nap – a surefire way to stop thinking negative thoughts for a while!

Yes, it’s hard to feel good when we are stuck in a traffic jam, someone just rear ended our car, our spouse just asked for a divorce, or we just got fired. Yet, we have the choice to feel good.

I remember being told, “No one can make you feel a certain way. You choose to feel that way.” So, choose to feel good anyway. Rebbe Nachman of Bratslov taught that we should be happy at all costs – even if we have to “fake it till we make it.” This was the best way, he said to be close to God, to access Divine energy and flow. And, of course, being in that flow helps us manifest our desires and goals.

My class at Chabad today we were taught not to let circumstances get us down. Be happy anyway. “Don’t worry, be happy,” as the song goes… We were taught that our thoughts, indeed, have the ability to change outcomes. By being joyous, the book and teacher said, we attract good things. We become a magnet for the positive by radiating positive energy. Plus, we don’t stay stuck in the negative circumstances. We pull ourselves out, don’t allow ourselves to wallow in the bad things in our life, when we become joyful no matter what.

And remember, that sometimes bad things happen for a reason. Some things are out of our hands. On some level there is a Divine Plan. We have free choice about many things and maybe not about others. We do have free choice about our thoughts and our feelings, so choose positive ones so you create more positive outcomes.

And sometimes there is a lesson in the hard circumstances that befall us. Sometimes we couldn’t have gotten to where we are now if it hadn’t been for the trials and tribulations we went through before hand. So accepting the events of our lives and continuing to move forward represents a positive action.

I want to qualify this by saying that I, too, sometimes struggle when bad things happen to me…like when I accrued about $10,000 in debt over the last 2 months due to sudden “bad” things that happened (my car’s transmission went bad, we had to repair two cars damaged by a tree falling in a storm, and our dog got cancer and had to be put to sleep). I won’t say I wasn’t upset, that I wasn’t angry. But I tried, as quickly as possible, to remember that things happen for a reason. Or maybe, as my teacher Rabbi David Cooper says some things just happen….no reason. They just happen. Actually my friend, who is an astrologer, told me that the “!#?* had hit the fan” just because the stars were aligned in such a way that things were happening to cause financial isues in my life. Nothing to do about it.

Sometimes it helps me to remember that life is like a trust exercise. You have to just let youself fall backwards and trust that you will be caught. Sometimes it’s a faith exercise. You have to fall forwards and simply have faith that things will turn out all right, that the direction in which you are moving is the right one, one that will cushion you as you land. You have to have faith that despite what is going on, if you just keep moving towards your goal you will, indeed arrive.

And as for the Kabbalah of The Secret, that’s a subject for another day…and of one of my booklets! So, I’ll discuss that another time.

In closing I will mention, however, that the same friend who did my astrological reading, told me she hated The Secret. She didn’t like the fact that it was so selfishly goal oriented. It was too much about getting what you want and not enough about creating world peace and such. Well, maybe I’m shallow and selfish since I did like the DVD, and I constantly try to practice the tools it puts forth. However, I firmly believe that most of us have to get to a place where we believe our own “stuff” is handled, and sometimes that mains getting what we want or creating a more financially stable situation or the like. When we feel secure within ourselves and within our lives, it becomes easier to look outside of that small realm and try to create things elsewhere. I also believe that when we all learn how to be happy…a major goal of those who teach The Secret…the world will become a happier place. If we are all vibrating in a positive way, we will create a more positive world.

If you want to get a copy of the DVD The Secret, check out the link in my resource section.

If you would like to receive notification when Nina posts a new blog, please send an e-mail to Namir@purespiritcreations.com and place the words New Bog Notification in the subject line.

"Birth is God's Way of Saying 'You Matter'"

2007-02-06T23:25:00.000-08:00

Last week I signed up for a class at Chabad by the Sea (Don’t you love it? Only in Santa Cruz, CA, can you find Chabad by the Sea) called “The Kabbalah of Character.” As I was reading the additional material for the second week of class, I was struck by the essay by Rabbi Simon Jacobson, the author of Towards a Meaningful Life. In this essay – and in his book – he says, “Birth is G-d’s way of saying ‘you matter.’ In other words, each of us matters simply because we were born. Or, we were born because we matter.

According to Jacobson, “This means you are absolutely necessary. You are indispensable to G-d’s vision of the world, chosen to fulfill a mission in this world that you and only you can accomplish. Like musical notes in the grand Divine composition, each of us has our unique music to play.”

As I was driving to class that morning – prior to reading this essay, I had been having a conversation with God. I had asked what I should do if my book proposal was turned down by the agent currently reviewing it. I was ready to just throw up my hands and go back to writing articles. (Well, not totally…but I was feeling a bit lost, like another rejection might be telling me I was not on the right path.) The Still Small Voice I heard told me to keep moving forward, keep moving towards my goal, because this was my soul’s purpose. I listened, but I was still a bit unsure. After reading Rabbi Jacobson’s words, however, I was convinced.

In fact, he shed a new light on my feelings of self doubt and my lack of self worth. First, I thought, “It doesn’t matter what I do or if I do anything at all. Just being born is enough to show that I matter.” Then, I thought, “Well…we do each have a purpose, and I am pretty sure I know what mine is. So, I should, indeed, keep plugging away at getting a book published. I don’t have to worry about how good I am as a writer or speaker or how much I know or what my credentials are. I need only do what I am supposed to do here.”

What freeing thoughts! If I stop worrying about what others think of me and of what I write and say and instead simply remind myself that I am fulfilling my mission and that is all that matters, suddenly I don’t need approval from outside. It’s enough to just do what I know I am meant to do.

That said, I am still struggling with the need to have an agent or publisher approve of my writing and what I teach through that writing. I still need to have people ask me to come speak and teach to them. Despite this, I realize that I need to just keep plugging forward. Whatever I do that allows me to fulfill my mission here in this life I was given, is all that is expected of me. I just need to keep working towards the goals that are aligned with my soul’s purpose.

Somehow, that perspective helps considerably. It gives me permission to be me, to do what I do, to simply keep moving forward. It stops me from judging myself against some external scale. I can rest more peacefully knowing that God is well pleased with me. I’m doing what I came into this world to do. And, the fact that I am even alive at all means that who I am and what I do matters. So, even if it seems like I’m taking small steps or dealing with obstacles or road blocks, the truth remains – I’m making progress. I’m making a difference.

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Receiving all the Goodness in the World

2007-01-28T23:15:00.000-08:00

I was reading a book recommended to me by Avraham Loewenthal, a wonderful Kabbalistic artist in Tzfat, Israel, as well as a Kabbalist in his own right, when I was struck by two particular pieces of information. In Chapter 3 of “In the Shadow of the Ladder” by Rabbi Yehudah Lev Ashlag, the author explains that the Kabbalists believed that God created the world to give pleasure to His creatures. Thus, the purpose behind creation necessitated the creation in the soul of God’s creatures of the will to receive. My own focus on how the Kabbalistic creation story can be used to teach us how to create what we want in our lives made this Kabbalistic teaching of great interest to me.

When we have a desire, inherent in that desire lies the will to receive it. Most people would argue that, of course, we must want to receive what we desire. Yet, so often our desires go unfilled. Why don’t we always receive what we desire? I believe we create mental scenarios where we see ourselves as not good enough to receive what we want. In addition, I believe that our habitual negative thoughts, which tell us we won’t or can’t receive what we want – and offer proof of why this is so, stop us from allowing in what we want. The Kabbalists would agree that what we think is what we create as would such sages as Rebbe Nachman of Bratslov. He taught, “You are where your thoughts are. Be sure your thoughts are where you want to be.”

Esther Hicks, channeling “Abraham,” teaches the “Law of Allowing.” She says many of us don’t “allow in” what we desire. When we think negative thoughts that generate bad feelings, feel negative emotions in general or pine for what we want rather than enjoying the wanting of it, we disallow the fulfillment of our desire. However, when we feel good, we allow what we want to manifest into our lives.

So, how does this relate to the will to receive? The Kabbalists are telling us that it is in our nature not only to desire but to receive that which we desire. God created the world so that we could experience pleasure, so that we could receive those things that make us feel good. And He created within us a huge desire to receive all of those things and the inherent ability to receive them.

In other words, we should want, and we should receive. We are given total permission to receive. What a freeing thought! I have long believed that desire represents a good thing, not a trait that must be shunned within us. I’ve heard the teaching often that one of the primary reasons for our existence lies in creating desires – and fulfilling them. Yet, these teachers say the desire itself remains more important than the fulfillment of that desire.

Now, I see that the most important thing is the actual fulfillment of our desires, the receiving of that which we want. Not only has God given us permission to have what we want, this receiving represents the purpose of our soul.

This begs the question: If we aren’t receiving all the good God’s world has to offer us, if we aren’t manifesting our desires, if we aren’t getting what we want, are we somehow not doing what God wants us to do, what we were created to do? There’s a scary thought…For so many of us, we’ve been taught that we shouldn’t want so much, shouldn’t expect so much. We tell our kids at the store that they can’t have this and that, and they shouldn’t be so greedy or materialistic, when in fact, it is in their nature to be just that. Their souls – our souls – are simply trying to express their nature, which is to receive all the goodness God’s world has to offer. Suddenly we have the freedom to want and to receive whatever our heart desires – a new car, a trip to Europe, financial security, a loving mate, a more fulfilling job, a piece of chocolate cake, a nap, peace, happiness...

Now, I’m not saying to rack up a huge credit card bill while justifying the debt by saying, “God wants me to have all the goodness in the world.” What I am saying is that we have to give ourselves permission to receive all this goodness. We have to be okay with receiving. And that is, for some of us, a tall order, a difficult task.

We have to learn to put aside the old lessons that desire is evil and the negative beliefs about not being good enough to have what we want. We have to stop the self-defeating thoughts that we don’t deserve to have all that we desire and the guilt at having more than others. We have to fulfill our destiny to not be without and to experience good.

Jesus taught this same lesson: He said, “Ask and ye shall receive,” “Ask and it is given,” “Knock and the door will be opened.” Simply ask, in other words, and you will receive, you will be allowed into the realm of answered prayers, manifested desires.

What would that look like, to really be able to receive all that we want, all the goodness the world has to offer? It’s an overwhelming picture…yet a phenomenally appealing one.

I’m left feeling, first, a sense of awe…that this is our “job” – to receive so much good…and, second, a sense of overwhelm…that I must find a way to allow all this good into my life. I must figure out how I block myself from receiving my desires so that I can fulfill God’s purpose in creating the world and his creatures – me, you, all of humanity.

Imagine a world where we had all removed the blocks we have against receiving the goodness of the world! We would be living in heaven on Earth!

Questions of Life and Death...But No Answers

2007-01-21T15:54:00.000-08:00

Here I am a week later still struggling with issues of life and death. It’s been a week since I euthanized my dog, Olympia. I still feel the loss...no furry face to greet me each day. I've struggled with the decision my family and I made. Now there are other issues with which I must deal.

I learned last night that a friend’s mother-in-law is on her death bed after more than two years of living with lung cancer that had also metastasized to her spine. She was given less than a year to live. She tried every medical option available to her, including anything experimental treatments that showed promise and alternative therapies. For most of those two years, her quality of life was quite good.

I also learned yesterday that my own father-in-law, who is struggling with the same medical condition – lung cancer that metastasized to his spine, won’t eat, doesn’t look well and does not feel great. He was diagnosed in early fall and given up to two years to live. He has had a back surgery, a radiation treatment and is taking a drug to keep the cancer’s growth at bay. It has been only four months, and I don’t know that I could say with any sort of confidence that he will live the kind of life my friend’s mother-in-law lived for that long.

What’s the difference? I think it is obvious – one wanted to live and the other does not. One was willing to go to any length to improve the quality of her life while managing her disease. She only stopped fighting when she saw the therapies had stopped working. The other has not even been willing to take supplements to help boost his immune system and strength, nor is he willing to make himself eat even though he knows it is necessary.

Now, my dog didn’t know any better. She didn’t feel good, so she didn’t eat. My father-in-law, however, is an intelligent man. He could make himself eat so he would be stronger to fight the cancer.

Maybe he doesn’t want to fight. The dog knew something was wrong, but she didn’t know how to help herself. Maybe she, on some level, knew what she had was incurable – which it was. My father-in-law has an incurable disease as well, yet it can be kept at bay. He could have a good quality of life…I’ve seen this to be true in the stories my friend has told me about her mother-in-law.

To be fair, I should say that I know each situation and each person is different. Maybe my father-in-law’s condition is worse in some way. We won’t know that for a day or two. He goes to the doctor on Monday. The tumors had shrunken from the radiation treatment; maybe they have begun to grow again. We don’t know.

Yet, I wonder…What makes one person fight and another not fight a disease? Does one have more to live for? I can’t say. I do know my father-in-law no longer can play golf or go fishing. I’m not sure if he plays bridge… These are the things he enjoys in life. Maybe he has nothing to live for.

Or maybe, like my dog, he knows the time is close and doesn’t want to push death away. Why do some people cling to life anyway for every moment they can while others simply resign themselves to the inevitable? Maybe one is simply not afraid of death while the other is. Maybe one would rather try to really live a bit longer while the other feels that life was good and now it’s over. I don’t know.

I do know that I believe that we are temporary residents on this earth. By that I mean, that none of us will stay her forever. We are not eternal. Yet, I believe our souls are eternal. We are simply renters in these bodies. When our lease is up, we move out. We don’t die – our souls, that is – but simply move on, probably to agree to a different lease on a new body.

As my family found out with the passing of our dog last Saturday, knowing this, believing this does not mean that we don’t still miss the physical form of the one who has terminated their lease on their physical body. We feel the loss of that physical form that was enlivened with the soul – the essence of the person – for a long time after they have moved elsewhere. This knowledge makes it no easier to cope with the loss of a loved one.

When my father-in-law gets to the place of my friend’s mother-in-law – in a coma simply waiting for the end – we will not have the choice we did with the dog – to courageously (or cowardly) put the animal and ourselves out of our misery, to stop her suffering and our own. We will only be able to watch and wait and anticipate the pain of the person being gone from our physical world.

Maybe we will be able to let him go with love…not clinging for our own sake to his life. Maybe we will be able to feel his soul leave and go to a higher place. I have a friend who experiences death that way and sees it as a beautiful experience. Yet…she missed her mother terribly when she recently died.

So…I can only hope we all find solace in these difficult life and death situations. I have no good advice, no words of wisdom. I remain feeling very introspective, somewhat sad, knowing that death is a fact of life with which we are forced to deal, cope, accept…

On Playing God and Euthanizing Our Family Pet

2007-01-15T22:07:00.000-08:00

This weekend I experienced what it feels like to play God. And I didn’t like the role one bit.

When I was told that my 10 ½- year-old Golden Retriever had contracted aggressive, incurable liver cancer, I was faced with a huge decision. I – and my family – had to decide when to euthanize her. The vet told me that if she wasn’t eating and wasn’t happy, it was time.

Well, she had lost about 15 pounds in six weeks, because she wouldn’t eat. I had found a few human foods she liked – ground beef, peanut butter sandwiches, chicken – but even some of these she sometimes wouldn’t eat. Dog food was not an option; she refused to touch it. While she would eat the Greenies she had never been given before, she wouldn’t touch the one treat she had waited for all day – her “chewies” (rawhide chew bones).

As for being happy, my husband said it best: “She hasn’t smiled in a long time.” It was true. For at least the last month, more and more often we had found her laying outside not even picking her head up when we came out the door. She rarely greeted the car anymore wanting the treat she knew I always gave her when I arrived home, and when she did, she wouldn’t eat the milk bones or the special doggie cookies I had recently purchased for her (which initially she thought were fabulous). She had taken to holing up under the deck stairs, a spot she frequented only in the summer when she was very hot. She didn’t jump at the chance to go for a walk. There was no “body wag” when we returned from a six-day trip to New York on New Year’s Eve.

So, after being given the bad news on Thursday we decided that on Saturday we would put her to sleep. I called the vet on Friday and made the appointment.

An hour later the PG & E meter man came – my dog’s favorite person. He brought dog treats. (When we lived in Chicago, everyone, including the garbage men, brought our dog treats. Since moving to a secluded mountain home in California almost five years ago, she has missed these daily and weekly visits from people bearing gifts. When we moved to our new house almost two years ago – also in a secluded mountain area, the PG & E man began coming. Just as her rawhide chewies were the highlight of her day, he was the highlight of her month.) I was just trying to entice her out of her “hole” under the deck with some chicken. Well, when she saw him she wolfed down the chicken and began to smile and do the body wag. She even ate about 30 milk bones (which she wouldn’t eat for me) that he gave her when he found out she wouldn’t be waiting for him next month. He couldn’t believe she had cancer and we were going to have to put her to sleep. I couldn’t believe it either as I watched her.

That night we gave her a wonderful Shabbat dinner. My son, who had cried just one night earlier when we first found out what was wrong with his “sister” and knew she would die soon and again when he tried to get her to eat table scraps and she wouldn’t eat them (the last straw that brought on our decision not to wait but to take her to the vet on Shabbat), likened it to the last meal of a prisoner being put to death. First course, ground beef. Second course, challah (she knows the blessing and comes to the table when she hears motzi). Third course, roast beef, rice pilaf and gravy. She ate it all, and then spent the rest of the evening on the deck with her head between her paws.

The next morning, she had left overs from the night before even thought we saw evidence on her rear end and in the yard that the wonderful meal that she had loved had made her sick to her stomach. We took her for a nice walk – where she again looked so very normal (except when we went up hills, which made her struggle, and happy. And then we went to the vet.

After many tears and my son at her side and me with her head on my knee, the vet gave her a lethal dose of anesthesia and this animal – my buddy – who had moments before been trotting down a path in the local Christmas tree farm looking so alive became a limp rag doll. When I put her head gently down on the blanket upon which she lay and put her paw over her “baby,” a stuffed cow, I couldn’t believe how soft and pliable she was…how quickly and completely dead – because of our decision.

I told my kids and my husband that we should be thankful we were able to make this choice. Only with pets can you choose to put them out of their misery – and to stop yourself from suffering with them. We don’t have to wait until their hearts or other organs fail.

With humans, we don’t have this choice. We are not allowed to relieve our loved ones of their suffering. We cannot choose when they die. We cannot “let them go” when they are sick and unhappy and unable to eat. We cannot pick a time when we know death is inevitable but they still have their dignity and their wits about them. We can’t give them one or two great meals and a walk in nature and then say, “You had a great day. Go on a good note.”

It’s too bad really. Maybe Dr. Kevorkian had the right idea. Yet, he was criticized for playing God…and his “patients” played God as well. Judaism is not too accepting of suicide, and, of course, the actions of Kevorkian and his patients were deemed “assisted suicide.” Maybe we were not meant to choose the time of our death; Judaism, I think, would agree. Death is a fact of life better left in the hands of the Divine who seemingly has a plan for us all…and our pets.

Thank goodness for the ability to choose not to be resuscitated. Without that DNR order, many a good soul who would like to be returned to the Light, to meet his Maker, to become Pure Positive Energy again, to connect with God remains stuck, trapped, in a nonfunctioning body. I wouldn’t want that.

Dr. Kevorkian scared us. We are afraid of playing God – with our own lives or someone else’s life. And maybe that is best. I can’t say that I don’t now live with some guilt about taking my dog’s life. Maybe those hours when she was still happy, still enjoyed her food, were enough. Maybe she would have been happy and comfortable enough to live for a few more weeks or a month. Maybe I made a mistake. This is bad enough when it revolves around a pet; imagine what it would be like around a human. I don’t know about you, but I wouldn’t want to go there. I hope every one of my loved ones either has a DNR order or dies in their sleep. I don’t want to be asked if I want to “pull the plug” on another human being.

Just before I actually called the vet and made the appointment to euthanize our dog, a friend sent me an e-mail telling me that animals are very stoic. By the time we know they are in pain, that pain is quite severe. My mother followed suit by explaining that very sick dogs sometimes seem quite normal because they try to do things they have always done. They want to do them, but afterwards they suffer the consequences, feeling sicker than before. I saw that in our dog. I understood. That was what happened when the PG & E guy came…I felt better about my choice -- our choice.

Maybe she was more uncomfortable and unhappy that I knew. Keeping her alive would have just extended her suffering, which would have only gotten worse. And it would have extended our suffering as well. At least now I know she has no discomfort and she is at peace. Only my children, my husband and I have the discomfort of grieving for her and feeling her loss. However, I am not yet at peace with this decision we made.

On the other hand, I believe that animals are so close to the Divine at all times. They come from Pure Positive Energy and return there in less than the blink of an eye. They have no fear of death. They don’t even know what it is. They just move instantly into bliss…and, from what I’m told, reincarnate almost immediately.

My rabbi called me on Sunday night to offer his condolences. He told me that someone recently told him that when human’s die, they are greeted first by their pets. I’ll keep that picture in my mind and in my heart.

And I hope I won’t have another opportunity to play God again any time soon.

(Goodbye, Olympia. You were the sweetest, kindest, most trouble-free dog ever. You were a great pet, a superb companion and a blessing to all who saw your smile. You will be fondly remembered and sorely missed.)

A Bad Case of the Don’t Knows While Living in Limbo Land

2007-01-09T13:38:00.000-08:00

I’m not so sure I have anything “Jewish” to say today, but I’m way overdue to post a blog and I could use to vent anyway. I’m stuck in Limbo Land, or, as my best friend Karen likes to call it, the “Don’t Knows.” I guess you could say I’m suffering from the Don’t Knows while living in Limbo Land.

I busted my you-know-what to get my book proposal done by my own deadline. I didn’t want to feel the whoosh of the deadline as it passed by, so I did what it took to get the document off my desk and onto an agent’s desk almost exactly a month ago. Then I revamped my cookbook proposal and sent it off to another agent. And now I’m sitting around waiting to hear…I’d like to say I’m twiddling my thumbs, but it’s not like I’m doing nothing. I check my e-mail boxes often. I deal with “stuff.” I’m in my office all day. Yet, not a lot is getting accomplished.

I could really use some paying work – a book to edit, some magazine article or essay assignments that pay quickly, a column for a newspaper – yet, I’m reticent to take on a big job right now. If – or, let me correct myself – when the agent(s) call to tell me they love my book ideas and want to take me on, I want to be ready to move forward immediately. I don’t want to have to say, “Well, that’s great, but I can’t get started until I finish this project.”

Waiting has caused me to lose momentum. Without such a big deadline hanging over my head, I seem to be so much less motivated and so much less able to get anything done – even the small things like posting an ad at local colleges for an unpaid publicity/marketing intern (Know anyone interested in the job?), writing my overdue newsletter, sending out queries for Passover (Yes…already.) or ordering herbal supplements.

I’ll have to ask Karen, who is writing a book on Don’t Knows, if lethargy and lack of motivation are symptomatic of the Don’t Knows. The agent asked me if, after turning in a proposal, I suffer from “post partum depression” or if I just go on to the next project. I replied, “A little of both,” but I’d have to change that comment if asked again. “Definitely post partum depression,” I’d reply, “with a huge dose of self doubt and lethargy.”

What’s the cure? I know what Karen, also a life coach, would tell me. I know what I’d say to someone if they asked me: “Start work on something else. Or get caught up in getting all the stuff done that you didn’t do while you were focused on the proposal.” In other words: Don’t just sit there; do something. I’ll have to take my own advice.

On top of my work Don’t Knows, I have a pet Don’t Know. My dog has lost 15 pounds and is lethargic (Is this contagious?) and won’t eat (Well, I definitely don’t have that problem…). She’s on an antibiotic that doesn’t seem to be working. The vet said she had a bladder infection. Obviously there is something more serious wrong with her. She has to have a test run on Thursday to see if she has liver disease or some other ailment. I’m, of course, afraid that the test will show something really bad….and…Well, we won’t go there. (My mother already tried to take me to the worst-case scenario, and I really laid into her. You know me, always wanting to think positively, to visualize and feel the outcome I want to create.) In any case, I’m in limbo land with the dog, struggling with the Don’t Knows of her health condition.

So, what’s a results-oriented girl to do? What yesterday’s Kabbalah card told me to do. (I draw a card from the deck each day and then read what it is telling me to do.) I drew the letter “yud,” which served as a call to action. I didn’t take much yesterday, but I have already put myself out there today proposing a column to an e-zine. I’m getting my blog written. I signed someone up to my “preorder list” for my new book. I agreed to speak at a local church, and I will write that ad and send it out to a few schools before the end of the day. Plus, I did make an appointment for the dog to go to the vet for that test on Thursday.

Baby steps. That’s what you have to take when you are moving through Limbo Land while suffering from the Don’t Knows. You have to keep that goal in mind and just keep moving towards it.

And, when you get a little off course – lost in the e-mail box or in front of the refrigerator – you “trim tab.” That’s the term used by aviators. They say airplanes are off course 99% of the time. The pilots continually trim tab, or put their aircraft back on course. In this way the end up at their final destination, zooming down the runway and coming to a dead stop at the airport terminal.

I’ve been off course, I think, for the last week and a half. Time to trim tab. Time to set a course for my goal – out of Limbo Land and towards a published book or two – and to begin navigating towards that goal once again.

Anyone want to come along? Don’t know? No problem. Just climb aboard, and I’ll take you to my destination (and yours) -- Certainty! Let’s take off…one step at a time.

Chanukah, the Season of Remembering and Welcoming Miracles

2006-12-20T10:55:00.000-08:00

Okay…I’m over the scrooge phase. We are well into Chanukah now, actually half way through. I did manage to get out some of the decorations, although our new house (we’ve been in it a little over a year and a half) doesn’t have as many good places to put my little Chanukah candles and music boxes and such. I miss my house in Illinois at these times. It was so much larger, and, therefore, had many more options for putting little knick knacks around. California houses are too expensive to be large…but I put out a few decorations, placed a festive table cloth covered with dreidles and Chanukiot on the dinner table, and took down our chanukiot. I put some chocolate gelt into a few dreidle-shaped bowls, and, miracle of miracles, my house began to be transformed in Chanukah space and time. Not quite sacred space, but close.

I have to admit, though, I haven’t had much time to sit and meditate on the candles or to send out my invitation to the Shechinah. Maybe over the next few days with no school or work pressures – the kid’s winter break begins today. At least I’m in the mood, the house feels festive and the table has become a misbeach, an altar, where each night we light our candles, say the blessings and then eat dinner together as we bask in the light of four -- yes, four -- chanukiot.

On Chanukah we not only remember the Jews’ fight against assimilation and for religious freedom, but also the miracle (myth?) of the one little jug of oil left in the desecrated Temple that once poured into the Temple lamp burned not for one day, as expected, but for eight. Truly a miracle – God’s hand in human events. I really want to focus on miracles for the next four days. I’ve been told by my “local Kabbalist” that the energy of Chanukah opens us up to receiving miracles. However, I firmly believe that focusing our attention on the miracles we want or need most puts us in synch with that energy. We need to know what we want, imagine having it now, offer gratitude to God for bringing it to us, and then open ourselves to the energy of these eight days (well…four now) so the miracles can flow to us. We need to stay positive and feeling good so we can allow in that which we desire.

I’ve been working so hard and could really use a miracle right now…in the middle of this miracle season. I’d like to see a pay off for all that I have done.

On good days, I feel that miracle coming. On bad days, my confidence wanes. So, I keep plugging on, moving forward, acting “as if” I’ve already received that miracle. Some days I fail at this miserably. While I know it is inevitable that I will have a bad day, I try to have as few as possible. I know that feeling good, remaining positive, keeps me open to the energy of miracles. Thus, I keep visualizing myself having what I want. I keep acting and praying “as if.”

Why? Because, just as Greg Braden (The God Code) explains, when we “pray for” something we affirm lack, but when we “pray” something, we affirm abundance. In other words, we don’t want to “pray for rain.” We want to “pray rain.” How do we do that? We visualize ourselves already having what we desire, becoming what we want to be. So, I act “as if” my miracle has arrived and I am enjoying it to the fullest extent possible.

Some days, though, it’s a miracle to be able to stay in that mental space. So, maybe the small miracle is to “be that which I want” – and really feel like it is true – for the next four days so I open myself to really becoming it.

So, when you light your Chanukah menorah, join me in remembering that this is the season of miracles. Pray “as if” and know the miracles are on their way sent upward and outward on the light of the 5, 6, 7, 8 candles. Let’s take the time in front of our personal Chanukiot to ask for the miracles we want and to know that all that we want and need in our lives is now coming to us for the highest good of all concerned. (That’s a great statement with which to end any petitionery prayer, by the way.)

Ken yehe ratzon. May it be God’s will.

Bah humbug...It's Chanukah

2006-12-08T14:43:00.000-08:00

Bah humbug. Can a Jew say that? Is there a way to say it in Yiddish or Hebrew? Well, I don’t know of one, so I’ll stick with Bah humbug.

I’ve been writing about getting in the mood for the holidays (see my recent news releases), and I can do that when it comes to the actual observance of Chanukah – you know, lighting the candles and such, but I’m having a heck of a time getting there during the initial phase. You know which one I mean? Shopping.

The thought of fighting the crowds to find eight presents for each of my children just does not excite me, nor does trying to fit this job into my too-busy schedule. So, what’s a mom to do?

I suppose I could go ahead and use my favorite trick…catalogue shopping from the convenience of my home. And I can do that for a few things with my daughter. For my son, no way exists. Nothing he wants is in a catalogue. So, I guess I’m off to the stores.

Actually, my husband is off to the stores. That’s my other trick… “Well, I’m just not sure what to buy, honey, so maybe you could go get it.” That works great with technological items, like the Ipod my daughter wants. It works okay on the drums my son wants, too. CDs my husband can handle, too, but the rest is up to me.

I hate just buying to buy. I want to purchase 8 meaningful gifts or at least gifts the kids really want. As they have gotten older – 12 and 14 – however, it has become harder and harder, especially since most of what they want is very expensive. That leaves little money left over for the smaller trinkets for the other nights.

I usually combine all my sisters and my in-laws gifts into Chanukah to help come up with those eight nights of gifts. It defrays costs a bit, too.

I haven’t gotten out my Chanukah decorations yet either. The box is fairly easily accessible, but I just don’t have the energy. Will anyone even notice if the dreidle-covered table cloth doesn’t show up this year?

You know what? I’ll notice. So, this weekend…after Shabbat, I’ll haul out the box and do the decorating. You know why? Because without doing so I won’t have walked my talk. I won’t have practiced what I preach.

If in no other way than this, I can make Chanukah meaningful and spiritual. By creating a sacred space for the eight days by decorating, I take what could be a holiday celebration devoid of meaning and spirituality and make it possible at least to make room for God. I create a mishkan, a sanctuary in which we can bring in the light of God with our lighting of the candles. I create a mikdash, a dwelling place for the Divine, so God can join us on Chanukah.

I’m not sure I can make the gifts too spiritual or meaningful…I mean, really, is there meaning or spirituality in giving an Ipod or some bongos? Well…like everything else, within them resides a spark of God. So, I guess if I look at it from a different perspective, anything I give is at least spirit-full if not also meaning-full.

So, off I go to the stores…along with everyone else…to listen to Christmas – not Chanukah – music, and to fight the crowds and to shop. And on Sunday, I’ll get in the spirit of the holiday. I promise. I’ll create a space for God to join us, and God willing, She will. Ken yehe ratzon.

When Shabbat Prep and Observance Becomes a Headache

2006-11-21T12:42:00.000-08:00

This past Friday I found myself suffering from a migraine. Now, migraines have become a part of my life. Actually, they have been a part of my life since I was a teenager, but with the onset of perimenopause, they have become – unfortunately – almost a constant companion. I’ve been tracking them to prove they are hormonally induced – and not sugar induced (God forbid I should have to give up sugar…), and this week I noticed something interesting. I suffered a migraine for three Fridays in a row!
Well, what’s with that? Here I am writing about and researching Shabbat observance and the most special day of the week arrives – Friday night and Saturday – and I come down with a wicked headache. Because they tend to cluster a bit, or just not go totally away, if I get one on Friday afternoon, I’m sure to still have some semblance of it on Saturday.

Now, I know that headaches can be caused by stress and by not saying or doing what you want, but I’m spending most of my time writing about a subject that excites and itnerestes me. But I am stressed to meet my proposal deadline…to work in the short amount of time I have each day, pick up and drive kids, handle household issues, make dinner, etc. But even it the headaches are stress induced, why would I have them on Shabbat, when I am supposed to be unstressed, relaxed, peaceful, connected?

With my work so focused on observing Shabbat, I think I stress out about doing the priestess thing and really taking time to clean and prepare and cook – to create the sacred space – and then to create a really spiritual and meaningful Shabbat experience for myself and my family. But guess what? Most weeks, especially most recently, I don’t have time!

Ack! So, I’m reminding myself -- and anyone out there reading this post – that it’s okay to just do what you can on Shabbat. Throw a table cloth over the table and put the candles on it. Set the table, and then serve a store bought meal. We like to buy a rotisserie chicken, cook some rice pilaf or couscous and throw some frozen green beans on to cook. If I don’t get to bake the challah – hot challah is my favorite part of the first meal of Shabbat – I pick up a store-bought one and warm it in the oven. Throw a few bottles of chilled sparkling grape juice on the table, and I’m set.

The trick then, is to take just a few moments to prepare for the candle lighting. Let the week go…take some deep breaths…then, with intention to invite the Shechinah and deliberate, conscious actions light the candles and then circle your hands around the flames. Imagine that you are bringing the light and energy of God into your home and allowing it to surround you. Imagine that you are beckoning the Shechinah to pass through the doorway you have created -- the space between the two candles – and then imagine feeling her warm embrace as you welcome her into your home.

Guess what! You’ve created a sacred space and transformed what could have been an empty ritual – one rushed through without thought or meaning – into not only a meaning-full one but a spirit-full one as well.

So, this coming Friday I’ll remind myself that this is all I need to do to be a priestess over my Friday night candle lighting ritual. I’ll give myself permission to not add more stress to my life. And, in so doing, I’ll add a little extra peace and rest to my Shabbat experience as well.

Cell Phone Call to God and The Ari

2006-11-13T23:27:00.000-08:00

When Matt Lauer went to Jerusalem and placed Meredith Vieira’s prayer in the Western Wall of the ancient temple, I wonder if he had the same experience I did when I was in Jerusalem this past summer. First of all, I had to stand in line and wait my turn to get to the wall, and once there with prayers I brought from several people back in California, I discovered that not only was there almost no room for another prayer in any crack in the wall, but prayers were on the floor as well, getting stepped on and kicked around. No one seemed to notice.

I stood on my tip toes and reached as high as I could to locate a little bit of empty space for my tiny, folded up pieces of paper. Luckily, I am tall, so I managed to squeeze them in. My two children who are not as tall, had a more difficult time finding a crevice for their prayers.

Actually, the oddest thing I experienced there was the use of cell phones. Not only did I see women (I was on the woman’s side of the mechitsa – women are not allowed to be at the wall with the men) sitting in chairs chatting away on their phones, but no one seemed to flinch when someone’s cell phone actually rang while they were waiting their turn at the wall. I mean, really…There I was at one of the most spiritual religious sites for Jews, and someone was getting a phone call. They weren’t even embarrassed. They didn’t try to turn it off quickly. They just picked it up and started talking as they backed away, actually walking backwards so as not to be disrespectful and turn their back on the wall. Was it a call from God? Now that would have been worth answering anywhere.

When I entered the plaza on another day, still quite far away from the wall itself, I was accosted by a woman telling me I couldn’t even walk across the plaza in my sleeveless shirt and shorts. I wasn’t even planning to go up to the wall that day. She gave me some attractive (right) black pieces of material to cover myself, which I did. So, it’s not okay to even walk within 100 yards of the wall dressed inappropriately, but it is okay to receive and accept telephone calls within 10 feet of the actual Western wall? There’s something not quite right about that.

And, it’s okay to talk on the phone at the Western Wall, but it isn’t okay on Shabbat to dance and sing and celebrate the Sabbath? I didn’t understand that either, especially since my husband and son were on the other side of the mechitsa having a grand old time with a bunch of Carlebach followers and Orthodox Jews. There was my son dancing in the middle of the circle with a little Orthodox boy and my daughter and I, along with a few young women trying to get in on the Carlebach service, were getting shushed by some little old lady who didn’t like the ruckus. But it’s okay to have your cell phone ring? Well…maybe not on Shabbat.

I had a similar experience when in the northern part of Israel. We went to Safed to the great kabbalist Isaac Luria’s grave. Known as The Ari, many people go there to meditate and pray. So there I am with my family, and we are trying to be very respectful. Each of us stands along the tomb and closes our eyes and stand in silence. The silence, however, is broken by the man standing next to me having a conversation on his cell phone. Every once in a while I look over at him and give him a dirty look. I don’t want to be rude and tell him to put the phone away…well…I do, but I don’t. Then he takes the phone and holds it up to the grave and the person on the other side seemingly prays to the Ari via cell phone. Give me a break.

I wonder what the Ari thought of that. Did he hear the prayer and respond? Maybe next time I should save myself the cost of four tickets and send my friends who live in Safed down to The Ari’s grave with their cell phones, and I’ll pray via satellite all the way from Los Gatos, CA. Someone the experience just wouldn’t be the same.

Creating Sacred Space

2006-10-31T21:17:00.000-08:00

I’ve been working on a book about creating sacred space and inviting the Divine to dwell with it, and my focus on this subject every day increased my desire to practice what I preach in my own home. So, last weekend I announced that I wanted to create a sacred space in our spare room. My son jumped at the chance to help, and he did most of the work. When we were done, we had a meditation and prayer room, which like to call our sanctuary.

I had to give up a fair amount of control – and I like to be in control, especially when it comes to a space I will use frequently – and let him decorate. He cleaned out all his toys and helped move a bunch of boxes and such into a storage closet. Then he started moving tables around, and finally he began bringing in ritual objects – books, candles, tarot cards, and finally a beautiful silver-and-Elat-stone-bound Old Testament that was my father’s and a tattered and torn bible of his grandfathers, which includes the Old and New Testament.

My son announced that he planned to keep that bible for himself, since his grandfather has recently been diagnosed with lung cancer. In addition, he wanted to go upstairs to our sanctuary and read one psalm from it every morning before going to school. I was skeptical, knowing how little extra time he has in the mornings. But do you know, he did just that for the first four out of five school days last week. He disappeared up there again the first two days of this week.

I was so impressed by his commitment and his desire to create a sacred space and a spiritual practice. He is only 12 after all. I wished I had started at his age…what a gift for him to have such a connection to the Divine already while I struggle each day to find, to feel, to remember my connection.

I was also impressed with his wisdom. He knew he needed not only a sanctuary but time to spend in it. He told me he wanted to meditate and to pray there. And his desire renewed my commitment to my project. If a child, who should still feel his connection to the Divine to some extent, feels the need for a retreat from daily life, for time spent communing with God, how much more do the rest of us need that sanctuary in time, that moment or two of meditation, that daily prayer practice, that time to talk to and listen to God? I know I need it.

They say we teach what we need to learn most…and that when we are ready, a teacher will appear. Now I understand the meaning of these adages.

In Honor of Women

2006-10-19T14:17:00.000-07:00

I remember having several close girlfriends in high school and in college, but I preferred my male friends. They seemed simpler to deal with. They were less complicated. They were less catty. I could trust them.

So, it isn’t surprising that when 13 years ago while living in Atlanta, GA, I was asked to join a women’s spiritual support group, I balked at the idea. I wasn’t sure I wanted to spend every Monday night with a bunch of other women, even if a few of those women were actually close friends of mine. (I did manage to make a few really good girlfriends once I moved to Atlanta about 20 years ago.)

Plus, I was being asked to make a six month commitment to the group. “Oh, my God. What if I hate it?” I asked my best girlfriend, who was also considering joining the group. We decided that no one could force us to attend, so we would try it and hope for the best – and run the other way if need be.

What I discovered in that group was the awesome power women have to support each other, to intuit what another women need, to help them over the rough patches in their lives, to help them move towards their dreams and desires. That group became my weekly shot in the arm of spirituality, positive thinking, companionship, friendship, personal power, focused intent, and joy. Yes, joy. I never left a meeting feeling worse than when I came, only better. And I reveled in the other 12 women’s company and their support. (Well, occasionally we had our differences, but overall, we got along well and did support each other.)

When after three years of meeting on a weekly basis the group decided to meet just once a month, it was me who balked big time. I was in the process of moving out of state, but I couldn’t stand the idea of the group not seeing each other as often as before. For me, the group had become a lifeline. I wondered what I would do without the group once I was living in Illinois.

What I learned during those first three years, and, indeed, over the past 13 that we have remained “a group” despite meeting formally only every few years (I’ve flown to the weekend gathering each time), is that women have uncommon abilities. We are powerful and resilient beyond our wildest imagination. We can weather any storm…especially with the support of other women. We can be spiritual leaders and priestesses, creating awesome sacred space and rituals. We can be shamans, healing each other and ourselves. We can be intuitive and psychic, tapping into our highest wisdom to help others see what they cannot see themselves. And as a group, we are unstoppable.

This is not to say that the group and the women in it are not without fault. I have at times felt picked on or singled out, even though others said they were simply trying to support me and to help me move to the next level with whatever I was struggling with. I have even on one occasion felt totally unsupported by the group when it meant the most to me to gain the group’s support. However, a group like this functions much like a family, and some times issues arise that are harder to deal with than others. Sometimes members have issues with each other. And sometimes, the family just can’t go somewhere together. Thanks to the group, I can see that, and move on.

Unlike a traditionally family, though, we are sisters by choice. At these times few times of difficulty within the group, I didn’t choose out and neither did they. Well, maybe I took a short leave of absence, choosing to nurse my wounds, to rethink my position, to look at the group through new eyes. With such a high level of freedom of speech and an overwhelming ability of each person to really “hear” the other, I have found it possible to communicate and then come back into the circle and renew my commitment to the other women and the group. We all accept each other as we are…warts and all. And we love each other. If one of us was in need, we all know the others would be there. And we’ve proven this to be true.

It was such a huge privilege for me this past weekend to once again come into the circle that is my women’s spiritual support group. And it was a wonderful way for me to open to the work I am now doing – writing about Jewish women’s ability and role as creators of sacred space and meaning-full and spirit-full rituals and prayers. I feel humble, yet, oh, so blessed to be one woman among many in my tradition to take on this role…and one woman among 13 to continue the tradition of the Women of Wisdom, my women’s spiritual support group.

What if I hadn’t agreed to try my hand at a women’s group? What if I’d taken my earlier experiences, albeit immature ones, with women and just walked away from the opportunity to be part of this experience? I wouldn’t be the person I am now. I would have missed something wonderful that I have never been able to replicate elsewhere. That doesn’t mean I couldn’t, but the work the 13 of us did together has created such a deep bond and connection, that it would take at least three years of a new group meeting every week – and sharing at the deepest possible level -- to get to that place with another group of women. But we could do it…

I was recently given the opportunity to join in a different type of women’s group that meets once a month. I jumped at the chance. I went and it was wonderfully welcoming and warm. There was no history between all of the women, like in my old group, and the purpose of the group was different. Yet, it felt good to sit in the company of other women. At the end of this month, I will attend that women’s group again, and I’ll enjoy the chance to be among other like-minded women.

In the meantime, I will relish the memories of my group, feel the connection that is there even when I am not in their presence, and look forward to the next time I can sit in our circle of women again. I’m so glad I gave the group – and the other women – and chance. Life would be much different, much less full, if I hadn’t.

Entering the Sacred Circle of Women

2006-10-16T12:33:00.000-07:00

Here’s a blog of a different color from my others so far…

I just returned from a “retreat” with 12 out of 14 women in my old women’s spiritual support group, a group we fondly call WOW, or Women of Wisdom. Since we stopped meeting regularly around 1996, we have met twice for a formal gathering, one of our members died and two (including me) have moved out of Atlanta, Georgia, where we all lived when we began meeting every Monday for three consecutive years. Now, thirteen years later, we are still very much “family” and pick up where we left off when we see each other.

Well, pick up where we left off might be an exaggeration. After many hours of sharing what has happened for us over the many years that have passed, we feel “caught up.” But we wouldn’t need to catch up to feel connected. Indeed, many of us shared this past weekend that we know that if we needed something, if disaster hit, the group would assemble and run to our side to help. Historically, this has been true. What a wonderful thing, to know that across time and distance, we are always connected and always care about and for each other.

I traveled across the country to see my dear friends. As we “circled up” on Saturday night with all but three people present, the room became a sacred space. We placed symbolic representation of those missing and departed in the center, and began to pass along a talking stick. We would break between “stories,” each person having a chance to share what had been happing in their lives over the past few years, to go to the bathroom or stretch, but each time we sat back down in the circle, something amazing happened. We entered sacred space and were transported back to a time eleven, twelve, thirteen years ago when we met each week. The faces were familiar and well love, if a bit more creased with both laugh and worry lines, the hair was different in length and color, the shapes had shifted a bit, but we were the same women and the connection remained the same.

Without even trying, we created a sacred space, a space set aside as different and special, a place where our Divinity could shine through. Each one of us opened to the Spirit and Soul of the other and acknowledged the Divine within the other. One even wore a shirt with the word Namste on it…the Divinity within me honors the Divinity within you, is the translation I was once given of this Sanskrit word. How fitting.

In fact, our sacred space was created simply by the fact that we had joined together in the circle. Like entering a Native American ritual circle or an ancient temple or church, the vortex of Divine energy was already prepared and ready for us to access simply by the fact that we had met there so many times before. In this case, it didn’t matter that we were in Asheville, NC, at the home of a friend, and not in one of our homes in Atlanta. The mere fact that we were together recreated that vortex of energy and our physical bodies created the boundaries of the circle itself within which our sanctuary existed.

Indeed, we became priestesses in that sacred circle without even performing one prayer or ritual. Actually, it strikes me as odd now, in retrospect, that we didn’t bless the space or our time together. There was no need for rituals or prayers. Our act of getting to that place and sitting down in the circle was all that was needed.

It seems to me that the repetition of any ritual or prayer, like the repetition of morning prayers, lighting Shabbat candles, reading the bible or receiving communion – or, in this case, creating a circle of women – creates a sacred space wherever we begin the next repetition. It matters little where we are when we don a prayer shawl and tefillin, sit down with a well-studied holy book, light Sabbath candles, or offer up a simple heart-felt prayer. If we have repeated our actions or words many times before, we create for ourselves a vortex of Divine energy that automatically forms a circle around us, a sacred space. Maybe that’s why we have “spiritual practice.”

I felt so honored to be in sacred space with my “family” of women. Our wisdom was apparent as was our tremendous growth and our ability to hold space for each other. I suppose that, even though I’m not always aware of it, we hold that space continually for each other and for the group, just as a prayer circle, a temple or a church holds space, whether together or alone.

I believe that, just as when we call on our guides or our ancestors to help us when we feel the need for guidance, my women’s group can do the same. When we can’t physically step into the circle, we can step into it metaphorically or using our active imagination and possibly achieve similar – if not the same – affect. By simply picturing all the faces around us and slowly turning to gaze into the loving eyes of each, we can step into the sacred, access the energy of the vortex, reform the circle of women. And then we don’t have to feel so alone. We don’t have to feel disconnected from each other. We can even reach out through our minds and ask the wisdom of the group to be channeled to us. We can ask, “What would so-and-so say if told them my story?” Or “What would the group tell me if they know what was going on with me this very moment?”

The Jewish mystics had a tradition of doing just that – calling upon their ancestors and the angels as guides. They found this practice meaningful and helpful. I remember hearing Napoleon Hill, author of “The Power of Positive Thinking,” speak on a tape about the council with which he met each day or week, but none of them were alive any longer. He simply imagined himself meeting with them, called upon their energy and wisdom and found they could counsel him from the other side.

I feel so blessed to have a circle of women. They have been my best friends, my family, my largest supporters, and my spiritual and creative partners for 13 years. I would wish for everyone such a blessing. This weekend was just that – a true blessing.

A Jingle to Help Me Remember What’s Important

2006-10-09T12:57:00.000-07:00

My car just came back from the shop. Despite an expensive amount of work done to it, I still hear the odd jingling noise coming from the left front tire when I drive down a bumpy road. I’ve been worried about this strange sound for weeks now, and the jingle actually prompted me to take the car in and have some belts and things changed. I had them check out the noise, but the technician never heard it. I hear it every day.

Today, as I drove down the bumpy and curvy road to my house I heard it again. No longer worried that something was drastically wrong with that area of the car – the technician checked it out and found nothing, I thought about why I would be hearing this jingling. It reminded me of a watch beeping at the beginning of each new hour or a cell phone beeping when you’ve missed a call or a message. I once learned to use that watch chime on my watch as a reminder to get conscious, be in the moment, become aware of my surroundings at least once every hour. The cell phone beep reminds me to check my messages or missed calls.

Then I got it: The jingling in the car was a reminder, but of what? I got it again: It was reminding me of what I really need to be doing but am not doing – really writing, and really focusing on my writing goals. I have a book waiting to be written, and I’ve been avoiding it at every turn. I spend much too much time focusing my attention on other things. I need to focus on what I want – to find an agent for this book, to get a publishing contract for this book, and to write this book and have it be successful. I need to remember my goal. I need to remember my desire.

This summer I was so focused on achieving this goal, and I saw amazing results from my focused conscious thoughts, my visualizations, my prayers, my actions. And then, I got scared. Things happened…an agent became interested, I received encouragement, I was told I was on to something…and I realized I’d have to show up big time as what I said I wanted to be: A Published Author. I, who teach about moving through fear, was stuck in fear. I have been stuck in fear – fear that I won’t be successful, that I’ll disappoint the agents, that I won’t have anything to say, that I won’t feel the muse with me or the energy and wisdom flowing through me, out my fingers, onto the screen of my computer, and onto the pages of a manuscript. I needed to remind myself to walk across that “narrow bridge” towards my goals, towards my desires, towards who I really want to be.

And how do I do that? By doing it. By writing. And by focusing on my goal at all times. By visualizing it as already here. By praying “as if” not “for.” By seeing the book as a “done deal.” (See my newsletter at http://www.purespiritcreations.com/ for more information on how to pray to manifest your prayers.) And I haven’t been doing that enough.

I need to rekindle the joy of actually writing – to help others, to share my wisdom, to do what I feel God intended me to do, to be my best self. I have to remember the Jewish High Holy Days just past and how they reminded me to be my best self this coming year.

Now, as Jews around the world enjoy the holiday of Sukkot, I have to go into my sukkah, my temporary shelter, and remember to be joyous. This is a holiday of remembering joy and being joyous. I have to rekindle the joy of my writing…and I can’t do that unless I write. And I have to visualize, pray, focus on my desires, my goals as a writer, and feel the joy that will accompany actually manifesting those desires, achieving those goals as if I had already done so.

On that note, I’m off to write…but not before telling you to check out “The Secret,” a great DVD, on this same subject: manifesting your desires. It speaks to so much of what I believe and teach on both Jewish and secular circles.

What Did a Poke in the Eye Make Me See?

2006-10-04T11:09:00.000-07:00

This past Sunday, Erev Yom Kippur, the time prior to the beginning of the Day of Atonement (or At-One-Ment), I was in the yard cleaning up and cutting branches for our Sukkah and the Sukkah for my Jewish renewal group, Chadeish Yameinu. (A Sukkah is a temporary structure erected on the Jewish holiday of Sukkot). I was trying to get ready for a drumming we were planning in the Sukkah the coming weekend. While I was cutting tiny little Redwood trees from around the base of one of our huge – I mean really huge – redwood trees, the needles on a branch poked me in the eye. It hurt like the dickens, and I immediately knew I had done something serious, like scratched my cornea. I cursed, wiped my eye and kept cutting -- only to have it happen again!

Although I told my children, who had come out to help me drag the branches off, that I might have to go to the emergency room, I kept on working and tried to ignore the pain. About three hours later, I was still in the yard. I decided to cut a few more little saplings to add to the Chadeish Yameinu pile of branches. Would you believe it! I got poked a third time in the same eye.

Well, I’m a firm believer that things happen for a reason…or at least so we will look at them, learn from them, change because of them, rise to a new opportunity because of them. I had to ask myself what I was supposed to see. Or what wasn’t I seeing?

These were not difficult questions to answer. First, I had come outside to work full of anger and resentment. My husband was at the office working, but I definitely felt he should have been home helping me get ready for Sukkot. In fact, he was supposed to cut the Redwood branches and saplings with his chain saw and finish erecting the Sukkah. Since he wasn’t around to do the former, I was left to cut them with my hand clippers.

Instead of blaming him, which I surely did as I held my hurt eye, I needed to see that he wasn’t any happier than was I that he had to go to the office on a Sunday afternoon. Yet, he was going to miss work the next day because of Yom Kippur, and he felt the need to handle things. I needed to redirect my anger away from him and realize that I was simply angry in general that he wasn’t around to help; I wasn’t actually angry at him. And, in the spirit of Yom Kippur, I needed to apologize – which I later did.

Second, I had done a lot of yelling at my children that morning – for not doing what they were asked to do. In fact, I had taken out my anger and resentment about the situation on them…and I had multiplied those negative emotions with my past anger and resentment over them not doing what they were told. I needed to see that this was less about them in this particular moment than it was about feeling like I was stuck doing things I needed to do but didn’t necessarily want to do – and without help (although I forced them to come out and help briefly) -- while they hung out inside doing exactly what they wanted to do despite what they knew they needed to do. And, again, I owed them an apology – which I gave them along with a request that they do what they were asked.

Third, I needed to look at why I was poked in the left eye – the feminine side. I saw that while I wanted to nurture my guests with a lovely yard and garden and a beautiful Sukkah, I was not nurturing my husband or my children on that day. I was not using my feminine, soft, understanding side. I was staying on the masculine, doing, pushing, side. And this was not something new…this was something that I needed to change in the new Jewish year. Every year I set a goal to not yell at my children, to be more supportive of my husband and to be more understanding, nurturing, compassionate towards all my family members. Each year, I hate to admit, I fall far short of my mark.

In fact, I fall short of my mark in a lot of areas. At this time of year – well, in the week or two prior to this – Jews spend a lot of time thinking about how they need to improve and be their best selves in the coming year. We look at how we didn’t do that in the past year. While Yom Kippur is the Day of Atonement, Jews don’t see themselves atoning for “sins.” The Hebrew word for sin is “chet,” which comes from an archery term meaning “to miss the mark.” (I love this term. It is so much more nurturing than “sin.” Everyone misses the mark once in a while. It doesn’t make them a “sinner” or a “bad person.” It just makes them human.) Basically, each year we set our sights on new goals in all areas of our lives. Then, we take aim and shoot, but we don’t always get a bull’s eye. In fact, more often than not, we miss the mark. So, my poke in the eye also served as a reminder that I have missed the mark…actually, sometimes I haven’t even bothered to pick up the bow and shoot -- or maybe I picked up the boy and shot but didn’t bother to aim.

I see this every day. Even today, when I said I would first get down to my work – really do some writing -- I have not done so. I’ve checked E-mails, handled some things, added names to my mailing list…basically procrastinated in useful and productive ways, but not done what I said I would do to help me reach my goal – having a proposal and sample chapters for my book completed by the end of November. My goal this year is to really do what I say I want to do – to write, and, in so doing, to fulfill my purpose. So, now that I’ve spent some time writing my blog, which does count as writing, I will end and actually do what I said…I’ll pick up the arrow, aim and shoot (open a new document and begin working on that first chapter to my book…).

And, I’ll try to keep in focus what the scratched cornea of my left eye helped me see.

Erev Shabbat, Going to Mikveh and Other Friday Mullings

2006-09-29T12:03:00.000-07:00

It’s Erev Shabbat, or Friday afternoon heading into Friday evening, just before the beginning of the Jewish Sabbath, which begins at sun down. I have no cleaning lady coming today. I have to leave to get my children at 2:30. I am still working at noon and there is no chance that I will get around to Shabbat preparations like housecleaning, before I leave. I’ll be lucky to get the challah started or even begin on dinner. Yet, it is time to prepare for the Sabbath, a day that should be focused on God, but during which I know I will be busy taking my kids hither and yon. So, what’s a nice Jewish girl – and one who writes about the Sabbath and the importance of creating sanctuaries in time – supposed to do? Create as much Sabbath as I can.

I’ll wipe off the sinks and toilets, put a white tablecloth on the dining room table, change the sheets on the bed, throw some stuff in the bread maker, stick some chicken in a pan to cook, pile up the stuff on the kitchen counter, and quick run a vacuum around….or I’ll at least try to do some of this. It will be my intention, my kavanah. No matter what, a nice dinner will be served on a table set nicely. Challah will appear – round for this season. The house may not be clean, the beds not necessarily changed, but when my family is all home, we will sit down to a nice meal together after lighting the candles and saying blessings. We’ll let the week go, say a prayer, and then strike the match… Maybe we’ll discuss this weeks Torah portion…maybe just talk and enjoy each other’s company. We will remember the Sabbath and observe it to the best of our ability over the next 24 hours.

And why will I do all this? Well, it is traditional to prepare your home on Shabbat as if you are welcoming in an important guest…the Shechinah, the feminine aspect of God, or simply God. And why must the women do the work? Well, if there is only a man at home, it becomes his job, but traditionally, Jewish women have been the creators of sacred space and sanctuaries in time. This is our role, our sacred duty. It shouldn’t be seen as drudgery, not simply as house work, but as spiritual preparation for the whole family to enjoy. We create the space within which holy rituals and practices and prayers take place. We make that happen by creating a sanctuary within which time can stop for a little while…24 hours…and within which we can place God and thoughts of spiritual and sacred things. Maybe we find this in our daily life – if we are really lucky, but most of us go through most of week without thinking so much about God. Shabbat asks us to remember the difference between the sacred and the profane, the extra-ordinary and the ordinary, so we will see and experience God on the Sabbath and then be more aware of the sacred during the other six days. Women have a truly wonderful job when it comes to Sabbath preparations, and we should embrace it. Well, I know sometimes that is a bit difficult, but seeing housework as holy work does help…

I read an article today (from last week’s Forward) about Conservative rabbis basically saying that Conservative Jewish women should visit the mikveh, or ritual bath, after the end of their menstrual cycle and should abstain from sex for seven days after that as well. Many Jewish women realize that this is an Orthodox practice still upheld by many Jewish women. Some less religious and observant may even like going to the mikveh for this reason, but in this day and age, asking women to abstain from sex for two weeks out of the month seems pretty tough. Many women travel and aren’t with their life partner that often or can’t get to a mikveh while out of town. Sometimes we are too busy or tired to have sex during the two “approved of” weeks of the month. And what if there is no mikveh available? I could go to the ocean, but you won’t find me immersing myself three times in the frigid waters of Northern California’s Pacific Coast. I’ve thought about it…(I’m menstruating at the moment…seems with the onset of peri-menopause I do so at all sorts of times and for all sorts of lengths of time. If I had to go to the mikveh and abstain from sex because I was impure during and after my period, I’d be there all the time and I’d never make love to my husband!)

Plus, putting restrictions on when we can and can’t have sex and telling us we have one more thing we have to do will make many Conservative Jewish women seek other paths for expressing their Judaism. All too often, we’ve seen what putting restrictions on things and making things harder does to people – it sends them running the other way. Judaism has lost a lot of Jews to other, more-allowing spiritual paths already.

In addition, in the most recent past women have found many reasons to go to the mikveh and to create rituals during which a trip to the mikveh is meaningful for them. Why not let them grow into their use of the mikveh – especially those who have not used one in the past – in nontraditional ways so they…maybe…start wanting to use it for more traditional purposes? I say, let Jewish women use the mikveh in ways that are meaning-full and spirit-full for them.

In addition, and probably most importantly, these Conservative rabbis are reiterating a message to women that has come down through the ages and been despised by more modern women. They are telling Jewish women to use the mikveh after their menstrual cycles and to abstain from sex for two weeks because during that two-week period they are “impure.” If women’s menstrual cycle makes them impure, then what does that say about their ability to have children? This is how they perpetuate the lineage, the faith. Without a menstrual cycle, there would be no children. God gave women this ability as a gift, a divine role, a sacred and holy thing that women, not men, can do. We bring life into the world. How can this make us impure? The whole idea is archaic and chauvinistic…and, well, wrong.

Now, I don’t consider myself a feminist. I believe in equal rights for all, mind you. I wasn’t happy this summer when I was stuck in quiet, non-communal worship on the women’s side of the mechitsa at the Western Wall on Friday night while my husband and son danced and sang on the other side with a huge assortment of men. Yet, you won’t often find me on a soap box preaching about equality for women. That said, I’m all for women taking back their role as prophetesses and creators of sacred space and sanctuaries in time. I’m all for Rosh Chodesh groups and women creating rites, rituals and prayers. I’m all for Jewish women seeing themselves in the, albeit, untraditional role of “priestess” particularly over their homes and over women’s groups of all sorts. Indeed, it is here we have traditionally been the ones to create sacred space and to preside over rituals and prayers, such as on the Sabbath and at Passover.

So, is there a way to incorporate this mikveh idea and not make Jewish women impure or force them to do something they don’t want to do, can’t do or find themselves unable to do? Yes. Imagine yourself going to the mikveh…a lake, an ocean, a stream, or a ritual bath at your synagogue. Visualize the process…if you know it (Otherwise, learn what it is first!)…and then do this whenever you like. I’ll do it later today, to prepare for Shabbat, another traditional time to visit the mikveh. I’ll see myself entering the (warm) ocean waters, dipping three times, saying three blessings, cleansing myself spiritually for the Sabbath.

But for right now, I need to finish my work. The work week is not yet over. I have a few hours left!

(If you are Christian, you’ve got a whole day left! You can still think about the usefulness of any type of mikveh for your own purposes and how you prepare for your Sunday Sabbath.)

Creating Our New Year Consciously

2006-09-24T20:31:00.000-07:00

Creating Our New Year Consciously As I sat in the front row at Rosh Hashanah services yesterday, I realized I was watching my son create his future right before my eyes and the teary eyes of the rest of my Jewish renewal community, Chadeish Yameinu in Santa Cruz, CA. I watched with gritted teeth and a tense body, closing my eyes each time I felt myself focusing too much worrisome energy in his direction. I didn't want to make his first time as ba'al tekiah any harder than it already was with my intense stare on him, fear showing in my eyes -- fear that he would not blow the shofar, the ram's horn, well and find himself embarrassed, as I waited with bated breath for the next call to be blown. I closed my eyes and listened...the real mitzvah (commandment) for the holiday...to the beautiful calls of the rams horn that my son created. I heard the calls -- one a call for us to awaken to the Spirit of the Universe, to return to God, to connect with the part of ourselves created in the Divine image, another to remind us of the brokenness in the world and in our lives, another to make us hear a mother crying -- maybe the Shechinah (the female aspect of God) weeping for all the negativity in her creation, for the death of her children. It's a call to be reborn, to heal the brokenness, to change the tears to laughter. And it provides an opportunity for us to take the energy of the new Jewish year and to create what we want in the coming year. At this time of year, the universal energies help us to manifest what we desire. And we have 10 days until Yom Kippur, the Day of Atonement or At-One-Ment, to think about how we missed the mark in the last year -- the Hebrew word for sin, "chet," comes from the archery term that means "to miss the mark" -- and how we want to do things differently. Again, we use the energy between the two holidays to help us manifest what we desire, within ourselves and in our external world. And there stood my son, creating what he wanted. He was blowing the most beautiful calls with his long, shiny shofar. He was stepping into the position he has dreamed of holding, and, in the process, manifesting that position as his own. He was becoming what he wanted right there in the moment. And, despite my worries, he seemed to be doing it confidently and with little problem. Everyone watched this 12-year-old boy step into the shoes of an adult and become a necessary part of the holiday rituals. In fact, he was making it possible for everyone in the room to fulfill their mitzvah of hearing the shofar blown. He also was performing a great mitzvah -- the blowing of the shofar on Rosh Hashanah. What an honor for him. What a gift for everyone else. And he received the gift of performing a commandment, doing it with confidence, and having the experience of being good at what he was doing, and giving to others at the same time. I was so proud. And as I watched him become what he had dreamed of being, a ba'al tekiah, I realized that I, too, needed to step into the role I want to play, the position I want hold in the coming year. I need to stop talking about what I want to do, what I hope to create, what I desire in my life and, as Nike likes to say, "Just do it." I needed to use the next 10 days to be what I want to be in the next year, thus helping to inscribe myself in the book of life. And I needed to seize every opportunity to do so, just as my son had done. Yes, we are told that on Rosh Hashanah "it is written" and on Yom Kippur "it is sealed"...who shall live and who shall die, who shall prosper and who shall lack...Yet, Judaism teaches us that despite the fate God determines for us, we always have the opportunity to change that decree. We change it with our actions and with our intentions and with our attempts to be the best people we can be. Rosh Hashanah is about turning back to ourselves -- the best part of ourselves, our true, pure selves --- pure souls. (Elohai neshama shena tata bi tehora hi...Oh, God, the soul you have given me, she is pure.) We can try now, during the next 10 days, to determine that decree, to begin the process of manifesting our desires by combining our thoughts and our feelings into an experience of what we want right now -- just like my son blowing the shofar only in our minds and bodies. We can look at our past year, determine what we want to change, decide who we want to be, and then begin right now to be that person. And each day afterward we can continue this process, thus taking an active role in determining how the book of our life is written. Despite the fact that the Kabbalists say God is directing our movie, we, as the actors, have the free will to think, say and act in that movie. We play our part. What part do you want to play this year? Can you see it? Can you feel it? Can you be it? I can. During the tashlich service at the beach, where we symbolically discarded our sins by throwing crumbs of bread into the ocean, I took one large piece and asked to be forgiven for not being my true self, not fulfilling my soul purpose during the past year. The sound of my son playing the shofar will ring in my ears for a long time, reminding me to create my life now, tomorrow, the next day, the next week, the next month and all those that follow. I'll remember also that piece of bread floating on the receding wave and my intention, my kavanah, to this year be my best self and do what I know I am here to do.

Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashana

2006-09-22T11:08:00.000-07:00

In about eight hours, the Jewish New Year, Rosh Hashana (translated as "head of the year") will be upon me and all Jews on PST. For those in other areas of the country or in other parts of the world, the sun may be setting or already may have set, the yom tov (holiday) candles may have been lit, and the new year observance may have begun. I'm still in preparation mode. Well, actually, I'm still in work mode.

And it is work -- actually a year's worth of work -- that weighs on my mind as I approach the New Year. A book project of mine that took up all 12 months of 2005 ended up back in my lap almost two months ago, despite the fact that I was contracted to do the project by the publisher and the publisher was set to publish it. (It's a long story not worth going into now...I dont' want to dwell on the past or on anything negative as the energy of the next 10 days descends upon me.) I've sent it to two agents, and the second today-- just now -- rejected it. My liason with the first publisher, the man who actually got me the job, also put me in contact with this agent. Despite the fact that he thinks I have a great "opportunity" to sell this manuscript, which he says "will sell" and be successful, to a bigger publisher now, I am struggling with the rejection and wondering if I'll ever see the fruits of my labor in the form of an actual book.

When he heard the original publisher was giving me the chance to cancel our contract and pursue a bigger publisher, my liason said, "What good news!" and assured me that this was "for the best." At that time, I managed to get past my anger and frustration at having to try and get the manuscript sold and to grasp the fact that, indeed, maybe this was an opportunity for me to make the book more successful -- and maybe to even make a little money on it while still contributing 10% to charity. Today, with the words of the agent still ringing in my ears, I am forced to grapple with this concept of "for the best" again. How can it be for the best if I am forced to take my energy off of the other work I'm doing -- work that a different agent is actually interested in looking at soon -- to find an agent who believes in this other book and is willing to find it a home at some publishing house?

In Judaism there is a saying, "Ein ode milvado," "There is nothing but God." This quote from the Torah, the Old Testament, serves as a reminder of God's presence in every situation -- good or bad. The Jewish mystics, or Kabbalists, taught that nothing in life is a coincidence. Whatever we experience provides us with the means to experience God's goodness. While this goodness often is concealed from us, it the spiritual transformation that occurs as we deal with what life throws at us that brings us closer to a realization of our connection to God. Ultimately, what we experience is that everything is one, it is all part of God and filled with the light of the Divine. We are supposed to realize that despite our free will to respond to given situations in our lives, the "movie" of our lives is one run by the Divine Creator. In other words, no matter what we experience in life, even difficult or painful events, possess a Divine purpose or reason. What is that reason? To experience Go'd inifite goodness.

Today, as I contemplate this idea and say to myself over and over again, "Ein ode milvado. There is nothing but God," I am trying to remember that things happen for a reason, that something good can come out of this situation. I do believe this at my very core. I do, but today it is hard to understand why this agent rejected my manuscript -- and me -- and why I am in this situation of having to sell a manuscript I was asked to produce at all. I have all sorts of questions....This was not a project I would have taken on unless asked. Why was I asked to take it on if it was going to end up a weight on my shoulders? Why would God want me to have wasted a year on a book that doesn't look like it will get published? Why can't finding a agent and a new publisher be easy? If this is for the good, shouldn't finding an agent and a publisher be easy?

The only answer I get comes softly, quietly. It's the Still Small Voice saying, "Trust. It will all work out for the best. You'll see. Just be patient."

And I think to myself, "If this agent didn't take my book, she must not be the right agent. The right agent must still be out there."

And then comes the other voice...Whose is it? Doubt? "Maybe the agents are right, and the book is not worth publishing."

And then I have to forcefully tell myself, "Trust! Remember what you were told...'This book will sell. This is for the best.' It will all work out." I add, "Ein ode milvado. God's hand is in this, too. There must be some reason why this is happening, and I just don't see it yet. This, too, is of God."

I realize today, as the time to light the yom tov candles draws nearer, as I must stop my work and move into the kitchen to begin cooking for our festive meal, that now, as the energy of Rosh Hashanah begins to seep into my experience, it becomes all the more important for me to focus on trust, on knowing that the movie is unfolding in this way because the Director has a plan for it's conclusion, on believing that all is well in my world even when I only perceive what is wrong in my world.

The next 10 days are a time of great promise. While our common Jewish liturgy says that at this time of the year we are "written in the Book of Life" for another year -- or not, the Kabbalists say that during this time, a person's spiritual makeup is rewritten. In fact, it is rewritten according to our desires. We are supposed to visualize ourselves a year from now -- What do we want to have accomplished? What do we want our lives, our relationships, our selves to look like? We must visualize our greatest dreams, our greatest selves, coming true, and in so doing, this lays a foundation for this to actually manifest these things in our lives over the next year.

I will stop writing now and spend some time visualizing...praying...combining the thoughts and feelings of having what I desire in the next year so that I experience it in this moment, in this Now, as if it already exists. I know that is the key...and the subject of another blog on another day. Maybe some of you will join me in this endeavor, for by all visualizing and praying in this manner to achieve our best selves in the coming year, we also raise the energy and consciousness of the planet as a whole. Not a bad thing either.... I'll visualize and then feel that connection with God that comes with knowing that everything is God -- the good and the bad -- and the feeling of trust and anticipation of positive outcomes to the current events of my life. And I'll end with a small plea of sorts, "Ken yehe ratzon. May it be God's will," and know that the Director of my life movie will hear it. And hopefully when I open my eyes I will have experienced the oneness of all things. And I'll be ready for the next holiday, Yom Kippur, the Day of At-One-Ment.