Thursday, February 24, 2022

We Pray For Goodness



 Blessed Holy Wholeness,


No matter how much we know,
We don’t understand.   
Again and again 
War assaults the One-ness.
Autocrats hate cooperation,
Fascists hate creativity
And, as the violent ones get high off the destruction,
Too many of us feel like bystanders to the crimes. 

So we will watch as we pray for the lives under attack, 
May they survive in freedom. 

And we will study as we pray to know how we can help, 
May we all learn strategies of resistance. 

And we will hope as we pray for the Holy Wholeness,
May goodness prevail over evil. 

Amen

Wednesday, February 23, 2022

My Drink Of Choice




Over the last two years

I have discovered bourbon,

The good stuff. 

With, when I can afford them, 

Luxardo cherries.  

In  ginger ale.  


It’s my drink of choice

When cringing  in fear and horror

At the fanatics 

And their irrational hatred of 

Ineffective little me 

Because I am a Jew. 


It’s my drink of choice

When contemplating in surprise 

What I mean to them:

Either disdainful rich elite

Or feral rat-like destroyers. 

I am neither. 


It’s my drink of choice

When shouting in shul

At the name of Haman,

For all the good that does. 

Schadenfreude comforts 

But is not a long term solution. 


It is not my drink of choice

When I have no choice 

But to see truth

And then speak truth 

And for that I find

I must be sober.  Alas. 






Friday, February 18, 2022

For When You Cannot Sleep



Brucha At Yah,
Ruach Ha Olam
Blessed Steady Breath,
It is the middle of the night and I am awake. 

My brain will not stop:
I fret, I plan, I pine.
So I read, I pee, I pet the cat
But nothing works. 

Tell me a story,
Something familiar and soothing,
Nothing real:
Comfort and stupefy me. 

Then make this night like Shabbat 
With no before or after
And nothing to worry about
Besides my blankets. 

I close my eyes for this holy conversation 
And ask that every breath becomes a soothing prayer
And ask for a quiet heart,
And imagine that I sleep. 

Amen. 


Monday, February 7, 2022

This Is The Ritual





This is the Ritual:  Bowing during the morning blessings.

I used to refuse to bend my knee
and bow
during the Morning Blessings.
Baruch Atah Etcetera
Thank you for Etecetera….
Who was I bowing to?
A male king?
That’s not God.
Screw that.

But then I thought,
What if I bowed anyway?
What would that feel like?
So I tried it for a month.
As an interesting experiment,
I bowed deeply for a month.

And
It was  mechanical, pointless.
And then one day, kind of without warning
Each time I bowed, I found there was a reason.
I bowed to history and tradition,
I bowed because my ancestors bowed.   
I bowed to everyone who has ever been forced to bow,
I bowed because everyone else in the room was bowing.
I bowed to my fear of the future,
I bowed to my regrets of the past.
I bowed because I am not the center of the universe.
I bowed because I do feel God's presence, somehow.

This is the Ritual:  Wearing a tallit.
I never wore  a tallis during the Shabbat morning service
When I was little.
It’s cause I was a girl,
Girls didn’t do that.
I sat next to my Daddy in services and played with his tallis fringes
But they were his, not mine, never to be mine.
And anyway, do I even believe in the kind of God who would care?
How dare you tell me how to be a Jew!!
And anyway, navy blue stripes, so boring.
So screw that

But then I thought,
What if I wore a tallis anyway?
What would it feel like?
So I wore it for a month,
As an interesting experiment.
And
I felt dramatic and self-aggrandizing, very look-at-me.
And then one day, kind of without warning,
Each time I put on my tallit I found there was a reason.

I put on the tallit because it was winter and it kept me warm.
I put in the tallit to wrap myself in the memory of my father, sometimes I even wore his.
I put on the tallit because I can and you can’t stop me.
I put on the tallit because it covered the vanity of whatever I was wearing that day.
I put on the tallit because I found one that matched my outfit.
I put on the tallit because it draped me in Torah.
I put on the tallit because God apparently has a thing for fringes and who am I to argue?
I put on the tallit because women who wear tallit at the Kollel, the Wailing Wall, get yelled at by people who claim to be religious.

This is the Ritual:  Wearing a kippah.
I sometimes wore a yarmulke when I was young,
The flimsy lacy kind,
Stuck on with a bobby pin,
A trivial thing,
A girly affectation,
Stupid.
A real kippah was for boys,
It fit their short hair.
But it flattened my lovely curls
So screw that.

But then I thought
What if I wore a kippah anyway?
What would it feel like?
So I wore a kippah on my head for a month,
As an interesting experiment.

Immediately, each time I put on my kippah,
I found there was a reason.
And it was amazing!
I put on my kippah to make a feminist statement.
I put on my kippah because it shows respect for the synagogue and the prayer leaders.
I put on my kippah to announce to myself that I have entered the shul and I must be mindful.
I put on kippah because I can have a lot of different ones to match my moods and my earrings.
I put on my kippah because everything underneath becomes a capsule of kadosh, of holiness.
I put on my kippah because it reminds me to connect to God, however I understand God that day.


These are the rituals:


When I need something bigger than myself, 
I bow.

When I need to separate myself from the mundane but not my community,
I wrap myself in my tallit.

When I need to place myself in kesher, in connection,
I put on my hat of holiness, my kippah.


Brucha At Achat, 
Baruch Atah Echad, 
Bless the One-ness, 
Giving us the ability to encircle time and space with meaning.  
Amen.
  

Tuesday, February 1, 2022

Prayer For The Sad Ones




For those we know about 
Because they talk to their therapist,
Because they hang out online,
Because they write songs.
For those who get help
Because they have asked,
Because they have community,
Because someone takes notice.

For those we don’t know about
Because they stay in their room, 
Because they push us away,
Because they make us laugh. 
For those who need help
Because they don’t ask,
Because they are ashamed,
Because no one knows.

For all these people and more,
We pray.
See them.  
See us. 
Amen.