(no subject)
My first drinking experience was beautiful, even spiritual.
Four Jewish women closely bonded in respect, admiration, and love for each other, lift their glasses and recite the shechekiyanu. And then I take my first shot.
Several drinks and a drinking game later, we have bared our souls to each other, sang prayers and songs, danced, taken silly photos, and taught each other how to feel good about ourselves.
I come back to my room with a slightly cloudy mind and a sense that this is what Shabbat should be, what Rosh Chodesh should be, what friendship is.
Oh and hen services were so beautiful, and so needed this week. Jill's dvar about leaving abusive situations was so...right. And my need to pray after a week of reading a Holocaust memoir was filled, utterly filled. And Laura Eve's harmony next to my own, voices together, I love I love I love voices. They bring me to a spiritual thereness, an almost sexual feeling of yearning and completeness.
After six years of arguing with myself, I have decided to wear a kippah when I pray. It becomes fuzzy though because I see every action as a form of prayer. Writing in this journal is a sort of prayer of thanks. But maybe it will be a useful tool for times that I am designating as prayer-times, so that I will be moved to feel more spiritual. I felt more spiritual on Friday - but definately need to invest in some hair clips so the yarmulke will stay on next week!
At home, in my bedroom, there sits a big brown bear in a toybox. Her name is Jessica, and she wears a fancy dress, a homemade tallis with her name and the date of her bat mitzvah embroidered on it, and a blue kippah with flowers on it. If she is me, if she is me and I am her, if when I stroke her soft fur I feel connected as though she is my Jewish self, we have become more the same today, as I strech toward my longing to feel holiness at holy times. Of course, everything is a holy time, which begs the question, shouldn't I wear the kippah all of the time (like she does?) But for me, to wear the kippah all the time might be to say that I can't experience spirituality on my own - that I need something outside of me to triggor it. The kippah can be a tuul to get me there, but I can get there by myself too, and I need to know that about myself. So, formal services = kippah = increased spirituality and wonder. And regular life = no kippah = natural sense of joy and awe.
For now, there is my logic. I can't imagine that I won't continue to be torn about it. The day of my bat mitxvah I almost threw a fit when mom made me go to the hairdresser and then I couldn't wear one because it would mess up my hair (stupid reason, I know). Since then, I have been arguing about it. I guess that isn't likely to change. But I feel like I made a step in the right direction, because I am almost entirely confident that I am happy with wearing one when I plan to do so. Which is fabulous.
Four Jewish women closely bonded in respect, admiration, and love for each other, lift their glasses and recite the shechekiyanu. And then I take my first shot.
Several drinks and a drinking game later, we have bared our souls to each other, sang prayers and songs, danced, taken silly photos, and taught each other how to feel good about ourselves.
I come back to my room with a slightly cloudy mind and a sense that this is what Shabbat should be, what Rosh Chodesh should be, what friendship is.
Oh and hen services were so beautiful, and so needed this week. Jill's dvar about leaving abusive situations was so...right. And my need to pray after a week of reading a Holocaust memoir was filled, utterly filled. And Laura Eve's harmony next to my own, voices together, I love I love I love voices. They bring me to a spiritual thereness, an almost sexual feeling of yearning and completeness.
After six years of arguing with myself, I have decided to wear a kippah when I pray. It becomes fuzzy though because I see every action as a form of prayer. Writing in this journal is a sort of prayer of thanks. But maybe it will be a useful tool for times that I am designating as prayer-times, so that I will be moved to feel more spiritual. I felt more spiritual on Friday - but definately need to invest in some hair clips so the yarmulke will stay on next week!
At home, in my bedroom, there sits a big brown bear in a toybox. Her name is Jessica, and she wears a fancy dress, a homemade tallis with her name and the date of her bat mitzvah embroidered on it, and a blue kippah with flowers on it. If she is me, if she is me and I am her, if when I stroke her soft fur I feel connected as though she is my Jewish self, we have become more the same today, as I strech toward my longing to feel holiness at holy times. Of course, everything is a holy time, which begs the question, shouldn't I wear the kippah all of the time (like she does?) But for me, to wear the kippah all the time might be to say that I can't experience spirituality on my own - that I need something outside of me to triggor it. The kippah can be a tuul to get me there, but I can get there by myself too, and I need to know that about myself. So, formal services = kippah = increased spirituality and wonder. And regular life = no kippah = natural sense of joy and awe.
For now, there is my logic. I can't imagine that I won't continue to be torn about it. The day of my bat mitxvah I almost threw a fit when mom made me go to the hairdresser and then I couldn't wear one because it would mess up my hair (stupid reason, I know). Since then, I have been arguing about it. I guess that isn't likely to change. But I feel like I made a step in the right direction, because I am almost entirely confident that I am happy with wearing one when I plan to do so. Which is fabulous.