(no subject)
I want to write because I am full of feeling. Never mind the details of the day, that isn't really important. As long as I get at - where is it - that feeling, those feelings, all of those feelings. Here we go.
When you pray, do you see images? I close my eyes, and there they are. Flowers blooming at rapid speed and sparks flying from them, bees spreading pollen that falls like pixie dust over a field. My images change rapidly, they are in bright colors and in black and white and sometimes they are attached to concepts and sometimes they aren't. I feel like I am on a boat, rocking over a wavy sea, and then all of the sudden I am with all of you, around Laura's kitchen table, coloring on napkins. All the things that make up my life, and all of the things that don't, everything I encounter seems to flow through my mind keeping time to the familliar words, in the familliar space, and with those familliar voices.
Holiness today.
I really did almost cry for the joy of it. I wanted to get up and dance and I felt like I was being rocked to sleep like babies in paintings of nurturing motherhood. I was excited on a gutteral, physical level, the way that your heart flutters when you are about to get on stage or when you are writing a paper and suddenly everything clicks.
I told Laura Eve that sometimes when I pray I feel like a vessel with a lid on it, and that at some point in the service, if I am really lucky, the lid lifts and holiness sputters out of me like carbonation. That's my excuse for not wearing a kippah - I don't want to hold in the sparks that come out of the top of my head. Remind me to write about kippahs later, as I am undergoing a personal debate about whether or not to wear one. A debate I've been having with myself since I was 13, but I haven't quite resolved it yet.
I have been looking forward to Shabbat at Hillel over the whole break. I have been storing up my spiritual energy in places where I didn't feel capable of fully expressing it, knowing that this Friday I would be able to use it, to own it, to be it.
I love Shabbat.
Of all of the things that I prayed today, the one thing that verbalized itself most was thanksgiving for Shabbat. I feel like it is such a gift, so holy, so beautiful...I can't even find the right thing to write. Is there a right thing to write? None of this drivel has captured any of it. Only when we were singing, when we were dancing, when we were praying, I felt so whole, so completely a complete unit, a self. And at the same time, so much a fluid, changing thing, and so much a part of everything and everyone else. I was one and I was many.
Shabbat Shalom.
When you pray, do you see images? I close my eyes, and there they are. Flowers blooming at rapid speed and sparks flying from them, bees spreading pollen that falls like pixie dust over a field. My images change rapidly, they are in bright colors and in black and white and sometimes they are attached to concepts and sometimes they aren't. I feel like I am on a boat, rocking over a wavy sea, and then all of the sudden I am with all of you, around Laura's kitchen table, coloring on napkins. All the things that make up my life, and all of the things that don't, everything I encounter seems to flow through my mind keeping time to the familliar words, in the familliar space, and with those familliar voices.
Holiness today.
I really did almost cry for the joy of it. I wanted to get up and dance and I felt like I was being rocked to sleep like babies in paintings of nurturing motherhood. I was excited on a gutteral, physical level, the way that your heart flutters when you are about to get on stage or when you are writing a paper and suddenly everything clicks.
I told Laura Eve that sometimes when I pray I feel like a vessel with a lid on it, and that at some point in the service, if I am really lucky, the lid lifts and holiness sputters out of me like carbonation. That's my excuse for not wearing a kippah - I don't want to hold in the sparks that come out of the top of my head. Remind me to write about kippahs later, as I am undergoing a personal debate about whether or not to wear one. A debate I've been having with myself since I was 13, but I haven't quite resolved it yet.
I have been looking forward to Shabbat at Hillel over the whole break. I have been storing up my spiritual energy in places where I didn't feel capable of fully expressing it, knowing that this Friday I would be able to use it, to own it, to be it.
I love Shabbat.
Of all of the things that I prayed today, the one thing that verbalized itself most was thanksgiving for Shabbat. I feel like it is such a gift, so holy, so beautiful...I can't even find the right thing to write. Is there a right thing to write? None of this drivel has captured any of it. Only when we were singing, when we were dancing, when we were praying, I felt so whole, so completely a complete unit, a self. And at the same time, so much a fluid, changing thing, and so much a part of everything and everyone else. I was one and I was many.
Shabbat Shalom.