Long and rambly Yom Kippur thoughts.
Tuesday afternoon, I sat with one of my coworkers and apologized for not thinking of her in my enthusiasm and zeal for what we do together. I had no way of knowing, but she had been overwhelmed when her supervisor left for mat leave by people coming around to her directly and asking her help in their events (that were outside of her portfolio but she didn't know that), and ended up doing a lot more than she should've. Last week I had gone to her to basically share info and connect her to someone else, and not even for a right-now thing, but it was just too much and our divisional business manager ran over to tell me I should not hand her tasks. I was really glad I could apologize to her, and really mean it.
Over the last little while, I spoke to Benito about the time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur being a time to say you're sorry for things you did wrong to other people, and on Yom Kippur we ask God for forgiveness also. Today, Benito said that next Yom Kippur, I should say I'm sorry to God for all the times I make him (Benito) sad because I don't let him do what he wants. Hmmm, I said. That's very interesting. I'm not sure he quite gets it yet. I will try again on this particular aspect of Jewish religious observance. *grin*
On Tuesday evening, I was given the honour of holding a Torah scroll for part of Kol Nidre, the first service of Yom Kippur. I truly did feel honoured to be asked to do this thing, and while standing with strong (mom)arms holding this scroll, I looked out at this community of which I am a part. It felt really good to feel connected to so many people.
I wasn't nervous at all on Wednesday morning. I knew what I had to do, and the rabbi and I spoke before services and reviewed exactly what I was going to do and what he was going to do for "my part" of the leading. I had the right kind of breakfast (that is, hitting approximately the right amount of carbohydrates so I don't screw up blood sugar, but nothing really indulgent so I feel like i'm violating the spirit of the day), and I had snack (again, quick easy-to-eat food that would keep me going through the rest of the service) before the choir was "on." The first leader of the service did a great job as ever; the pass-off was a bit fumbled but he gathered his stuff and I went up to the lectern with my machzor and took a good steadying (mostly) breath. I think I didn't hit a high enough key for the choir at the start of my thing but I sounded fine, and the congregation sang with me where I was, so it's okay if I was lower than their sheet music for our first song together.
I took the time on RH and earlier in YK to read the English of the Hebrew I'd been practicing, and that helped me to understand the musical choices for what I was reading.
The first odd thing to happen was when the rabbi came up to me when the choir was singing a 4-part harmony piece and pointed to a part of the next page and said "Do this in English?" to which I said "um, okay." That's not what we'd said earlier, but okay, I can read an English paragraph. I had to do some Hebrew chanting first to get there but no problem. I finish the song we were on, I have a bit to read at the end of that page, which I do, and I wait for him to announce the next page, which he had been doing. I still had paragraphs to do on the top of the page before the English part. Nope, it seems he wanted to skip right to the English! Okay, no biggie, that's just two paragraphs that I spent a bunch of time learning, for just this moment... *sigh* Okay.
The second odd thing was a bit later, in the middle of him reading a bunch of English, there was a song for the whole choir to sing in beautiful harmony. He cued me for when he was ready for us to sing, we sang, it went pretty well though not perfectly, and he started reading the English again. Then, completely outside of expectation, he cued me again to sing that song. Looking at the book, indeed, the same verses repeated. (V'chach haya moneh during the Temple Service.) The choir had no clue; the choirmaster had no clue. However, I had gotten the nod, so I just sang it solo. (I sang it a little wrong, skipped a few words, but no-one said anything, either because they didn't notice, or it didn't make a qualitative difference to the experience, or some other reason.) That was entertaining.
The rabbi also "skipped" two songs the choir usually does, but honestly, when we look in the plan for the day, it wasn't clearly written there either when they would insert those songs. The moral of these mistakes, to me, is that the rabbi needs to attend the last rehearsal before the services, to let the leaders and the choir itself know how the whole thing will proceed. That way, if last-minute time-saving decisions are made, we will know that they were intentional and not simply forgetting or making a mistake.
I thought about the confessional prayers that we say communally. Did anyone else notice that we ask forgiveness for stubbornness twice? I didn't look at the Hebrew to see if it was actually the same word twice for some reason, or if this machzor simply translated two words to mean stubbornness but they are actually not the same. Either way, it's kind of funny when you have to repeat that one.
I got many compliments after services, and I was gracious in accepting them, but again, I felt like they were not well earned. What I actually led was not a huge bit, certainly less than all the other lay-leaders. I acknowledge that I have a good voice, but so did the guy after me... then again, I have no idea how much people complimented him, so there's that. I hope it was a lot. He has been part of the choir for many years now, and did a lot more leading this year, and his voice is amazing. One congregant went so far as to say "your voice is so smooth and nice, but those last couple women at the end, their voices were so rough..." Oy vey, we just got done admitting all of our sins, and not 10 minutes after the final shofar blast, you put some people down like that? It was the end of a fast day, they led services which is a really significant thing, and that's what you're going to comment? I said to him "Thank you for the compliment, and when it comes to Neilah (the closing service), I don't think about the leader's voice, I think about the words being said and the sentiments being expressed." Yes yes, he said, but still. Ugh.
The first half of the day ended at about 2 PM. I took me and Benito home and offered him food and also had some myself. I also had some coffee - I suppose I could have chosen to stick to water but the last time I cut back on coffee I definitely felt crappy, so I didn't do that. Again, I could probably choose otherwise on that one, go with sustenance but accept discomfort. Food for though.
I blew my shofar to close the gates as the holiday ended, along with 3 other gentlemen. The rabbi's son had a timer on his watch and started it as we blew. I did not get the best breath, and my embouchure was tight - I got quite a high note out of my long shofar! I gave it all I had, pushing out that note until I was shaky and red-faced and quivering, but I only lasted about 30 seconds. I was not the last to end, and I congratulated the older gent who outlasted all us younger folks. *smile* I will do my best again next year and see how it goes, but it still felt good to make that high note call out over the congregation.
One more thought before I go to bed: After services ended and people were making their way either to the break-the-fast meal in the social hall or leaving to their own meals, the choirmaster said to me "Do you think you could do Kol Nidre next year?" I really truly don't know if I would want that. It is a very elaborately arranged choir piece. The melody does sound like a very traditional melody. However, not all of it is, and there are other parts that would then need to be done, and I would be part of the frekain' choir, which I really did not want to be. If I could infuse the whole process with a bit more than just performance, I would appreciate it more - and I mean the whole choir's attitudes. On the other hand, who the hell am I to dictate how someone else should feel as they sing? If I can capture it for me, good for me, and if someone else is singing because they love to sing, why should that make my decision for me? Having done this once, have I now obligated myself to do it in perpetuity? Do I want to say no, can I say no just to maintain my individuality/harmonies/melodies and feel communion with my family/childhood/upbringing, do I need a reason to say no beyond "it just is not what I want to do," can I get over the feeling of obligation a la "if you can do a thing you *should* do a thing" - this is actually a significant life issue, particularly in regards to my shul involvement. Oh my God I think too much. *sigh*
I am sorry that fasting could actually endanger my health. I can accept feeling slightly altered by lack of food, as I did in my 20's, but I cannot accept not being able to take care of Benito if I don't follow my doctor's orders to eat. It's nice to rationalize what my religion requires of me. *wry grin*
Wait, I said "before going to bed." Time to close. YK was a good experience, done with my community, and with some thought and intent on my part/towards myself. I wanted to be able to help give people a meaningful holiday, and I think I did. I gave myself a little thought and attention. Maybe next year I can balance that better. Also, I'd love to make it more meaningful for Benito next year, as opposed to him playing all day. On the other hand, 5 and 6 are not what anyone would call "thoughtful" ages. Still, each year should be building, so this year is a start, and next year we'll see.
This entry was originally posted at https://avivasedai.dreamwidth.org/724357.html. Please comment there using OpenID.
Over the last little while, I spoke to Benito about the time between Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur being a time to say you're sorry for things you did wrong to other people, and on Yom Kippur we ask God for forgiveness also. Today, Benito said that next Yom Kippur, I should say I'm sorry to God for all the times I make him (Benito) sad because I don't let him do what he wants. Hmmm, I said. That's very interesting. I'm not sure he quite gets it yet. I will try again on this particular aspect of Jewish religious observance. *grin*
On Tuesday evening, I was given the honour of holding a Torah scroll for part of Kol Nidre, the first service of Yom Kippur. I truly did feel honoured to be asked to do this thing, and while standing with strong (mom)arms holding this scroll, I looked out at this community of which I am a part. It felt really good to feel connected to so many people.
I wasn't nervous at all on Wednesday morning. I knew what I had to do, and the rabbi and I spoke before services and reviewed exactly what I was going to do and what he was going to do for "my part" of the leading. I had the right kind of breakfast (that is, hitting approximately the right amount of carbohydrates so I don't screw up blood sugar, but nothing really indulgent so I feel like i'm violating the spirit of the day), and I had snack (again, quick easy-to-eat food that would keep me going through the rest of the service) before the choir was "on." The first leader of the service did a great job as ever; the pass-off was a bit fumbled but he gathered his stuff and I went up to the lectern with my machzor and took a good steadying (mostly) breath. I think I didn't hit a high enough key for the choir at the start of my thing but I sounded fine, and the congregation sang with me where I was, so it's okay if I was lower than their sheet music for our first song together.
I took the time on RH and earlier in YK to read the English of the Hebrew I'd been practicing, and that helped me to understand the musical choices for what I was reading.
The first odd thing to happen was when the rabbi came up to me when the choir was singing a 4-part harmony piece and pointed to a part of the next page and said "Do this in English?" to which I said "um, okay." That's not what we'd said earlier, but okay, I can read an English paragraph. I had to do some Hebrew chanting first to get there but no problem. I finish the song we were on, I have a bit to read at the end of that page, which I do, and I wait for him to announce the next page, which he had been doing. I still had paragraphs to do on the top of the page before the English part. Nope, it seems he wanted to skip right to the English! Okay, no biggie, that's just two paragraphs that I spent a bunch of time learning, for just this moment... *sigh* Okay.
The second odd thing was a bit later, in the middle of him reading a bunch of English, there was a song for the whole choir to sing in beautiful harmony. He cued me for when he was ready for us to sing, we sang, it went pretty well though not perfectly, and he started reading the English again. Then, completely outside of expectation, he cued me again to sing that song. Looking at the book, indeed, the same verses repeated. (V'chach haya moneh during the Temple Service.) The choir had no clue; the choirmaster had no clue. However, I had gotten the nod, so I just sang it solo. (I sang it a little wrong, skipped a few words, but no-one said anything, either because they didn't notice, or it didn't make a qualitative difference to the experience, or some other reason.) That was entertaining.
The rabbi also "skipped" two songs the choir usually does, but honestly, when we look in the plan for the day, it wasn't clearly written there either when they would insert those songs. The moral of these mistakes, to me, is that the rabbi needs to attend the last rehearsal before the services, to let the leaders and the choir itself know how the whole thing will proceed. That way, if last-minute time-saving decisions are made, we will know that they were intentional and not simply forgetting or making a mistake.
I thought about the confessional prayers that we say communally. Did anyone else notice that we ask forgiveness for stubbornness twice? I didn't look at the Hebrew to see if it was actually the same word twice for some reason, or if this machzor simply translated two words to mean stubbornness but they are actually not the same. Either way, it's kind of funny when you have to repeat that one.
I got many compliments after services, and I was gracious in accepting them, but again, I felt like they were not well earned. What I actually led was not a huge bit, certainly less than all the other lay-leaders. I acknowledge that I have a good voice, but so did the guy after me... then again, I have no idea how much people complimented him, so there's that. I hope it was a lot. He has been part of the choir for many years now, and did a lot more leading this year, and his voice is amazing. One congregant went so far as to say "your voice is so smooth and nice, but those last couple women at the end, their voices were so rough..." Oy vey, we just got done admitting all of our sins, and not 10 minutes after the final shofar blast, you put some people down like that? It was the end of a fast day, they led services which is a really significant thing, and that's what you're going to comment? I said to him "Thank you for the compliment, and when it comes to Neilah (the closing service), I don't think about the leader's voice, I think about the words being said and the sentiments being expressed." Yes yes, he said, but still. Ugh.
The first half of the day ended at about 2 PM. I took me and Benito home and offered him food and also had some myself. I also had some coffee - I suppose I could have chosen to stick to water but the last time I cut back on coffee I definitely felt crappy, so I didn't do that. Again, I could probably choose otherwise on that one, go with sustenance but accept discomfort. Food for though.
I blew my shofar to close the gates as the holiday ended, along with 3 other gentlemen. The rabbi's son had a timer on his watch and started it as we blew. I did not get the best breath, and my embouchure was tight - I got quite a high note out of my long shofar! I gave it all I had, pushing out that note until I was shaky and red-faced and quivering, but I only lasted about 30 seconds. I was not the last to end, and I congratulated the older gent who outlasted all us younger folks. *smile* I will do my best again next year and see how it goes, but it still felt good to make that high note call out over the congregation.
One more thought before I go to bed: After services ended and people were making their way either to the break-the-fast meal in the social hall or leaving to their own meals, the choirmaster said to me "Do you think you could do Kol Nidre next year?" I really truly don't know if I would want that. It is a very elaborately arranged choir piece. The melody does sound like a very traditional melody. However, not all of it is, and there are other parts that would then need to be done, and I would be part of the frekain' choir, which I really did not want to be. If I could infuse the whole process with a bit more than just performance, I would appreciate it more - and I mean the whole choir's attitudes. On the other hand, who the hell am I to dictate how someone else should feel as they sing? If I can capture it for me, good for me, and if someone else is singing because they love to sing, why should that make my decision for me? Having done this once, have I now obligated myself to do it in perpetuity? Do I want to say no, can I say no just to maintain my individuality/harmonies/melodies and feel communion with my family/childhood/upbringing, do I need a reason to say no beyond "it just is not what I want to do," can I get over the feeling of obligation a la "if you can do a thing you *should* do a thing" - this is actually a significant life issue, particularly in regards to my shul involvement. Oh my God I think too much. *sigh*
I am sorry that fasting could actually endanger my health. I can accept feeling slightly altered by lack of food, as I did in my 20's, but I cannot accept not being able to take care of Benito if I don't follow my doctor's orders to eat. It's nice to rationalize what my religion requires of me. *wry grin*
Wait, I said "before going to bed." Time to close. YK was a good experience, done with my community, and with some thought and intent on my part/towards myself. I wanted to be able to help give people a meaningful holiday, and I think I did. I gave myself a little thought and attention. Maybe next year I can balance that better. Also, I'd love to make it more meaningful for Benito next year, as opposed to him playing all day. On the other hand, 5 and 6 are not what anyone would call "thoughtful" ages. Still, each year should be building, so this year is a start, and next year we'll see.
This entry was originally posted at https://avivasedai.dreamwidth.org/724357.html. Please comment there using OpenID.