Narrow Bridge

Yom Kippur was yesterday. It doesn't seem quite right to describe Yom Kippur as good, but it was good to me this year. It helped me move through some things that I needed to feel, contemplate, talk about, and release. It was awesome, humbling, and inspiring. I felt strongly connected to my community and to what it means to share our burdens, hopes, and desire for change. 

Today I found myself singing one of the High Holiday songs all day long, a song based on the words of Rebbe Nachman of Bratslav:

Kol ha-olam kulo gesher tzar m’od v’ha-ikkar lo l’faheid k’lal.

“The whole world is a narrow bridge, and the essential thing is not to fear at all.”

As is always the case with me, the gorgeous melody is what caught my attention first, but I am also intrigued by the words. Bridges are a wonderful metaphor, one that often resonates with me. I also love the visual this one presents. 

The second line gets more complicated for me.  I clam up when it says, "not to fear at all." How impossible! Of course we fear. We are hard wired to fear. A narrow bridge is just the kind of thing that triggers my fear, big time. The question is what we do with our fear. I prefer to think about acknowledging our fear, leaning into it a little, and then remembering that we do not have to fear. We can find ways to ground ourselves, to get support, and to find our strength.

I do agree that the role of fear is essential. I was struck this year that when I got to the essence of each of the issues most on my mind, there was fear. Fear was driving the behavior I don't like in myself, fear was driving my anger towards others, and fear was driving my reluctance to change. 

So I take with me out of these High Holidays, a vision of myself walking that narrow bridge with confidence and courage, knowing that although the journey can sometimes feel perilous, the whole world is there too.

One of my favorite bridges, Caratunk Wildlife Refuge

11 Tishrei 5774

Forgive

I haven't managed to post them all yet, but I did write on each of the blogElul prompts except one: Forgive. It hasn't left me alone...I keep hearing the call, so I'll give it a try.

Some years big things happen, and there are obvious reasons I need to ask forgiveness or I need to forgive others (including God). This year, like most, it's the little things that have piled up. The small ways in the course of ongoing relationship that things are just off. Sometimes I nurse grudges, looking for evidence to support my viewpoint that I am somehow wronged or slighted. I let my warm regard turn a little cold or ugly, and I feel guilty about this unloving behavior. Other times I disengage, no longer trusting the relationship, no longer trying to remain connected.  

The High Holidays give us a chance to think about these patterns, to try to change them, to reach out and engage in the work of relationship, or to let things go. Sometimes overtly and sometimes in unspoken ways, we might manage to make amends, find ways to change patterns, all the way acknowledging that, in most cases, we will also continue to disappoint each other and hurt each other and let each other down some of the time because that is what it means to be human. These are not the sins that we can put behind us easily. We can be compassionate with each other and ourselves. And we can continue to show up with the intent to be real and humble, to be willing to change, and to forgive and be forgiven. 

#BlogElul 13 - Written on 9 Tishrei 5774 

The Power of Story

Today on September 11, I have read several moving stories from the day twelve years ago that changed us all forever. One part of me does not enjoy reliving such a traumatic time, but another part of me is drawn to these stories, and I feel liberated by them.

On Rosh Hashanah Eve, the sermon at my synagogue was titled, "The Story of Us." In it, Rabbi Elyse Wechterman talked about the power of communal narrative:

"...creating a shared narrative for the community is what brings people together and gives them a way to connect their individual story to the larger story unfolding around them. "

This power of a story was already on my mind because of an  On Being podcast I listened to last week about healing from trauma. According to Dr. Bessel Van Der Kolk, one of the hallmarks of unhealed trauma is that the brain doesn't allow a story to be created. Instead, it remains stuck with memories etched in vivid detail, unchanged over many years. Normally, our memories change (even if we don't want to admit it), but when we're traumatized we are unable to allow our memories to become a story that we tell and retell and allow to transform. 

With that in mind, I felt something inside me change and relax. So it's okay to tell stories about traumatic events! In fact, it's a sign of health and a big opportunity for healing. So often I feel reticent to talk about my most difficult moments. I feel afraid that everyone close to me has already heard too much about it. I am afraid of my need to retell my stories, but when I do, I always learn something new. I bring new life experience to the memory and with it a new telling of the story.

I don't have much of a 9-11 story, although certain elements of that day are indelibly etched in my memory: Clutching my older son, then a toddler, in my arms as I watched tv coverage of the towers burning. The silent, clear blue skies. And few days later, a beautiful rainbow arching across the sky.

I am grateful that on this day each year, we are willing to hear each other's stories, that we make room for grief and for healing. And I pray that we can bring this same sort of attention to other more invisible, silent losses and traumas. May we all have a chance to tell our stories and be heard. 

The Expanse, 1/26/07

Watercolor Sunset

I drove north on the highway this evening right around sunset, the sky filled with brush-stroke clouds composed in a way that took my breath away. It was like I was driving towards a giant watercolor painting. The sky held a range of soft blues, and the clouds a broader range of golds and oranges, with a splash of dark gray thrown in for contrast. Such composition!

I wanted to stop and take a photo, but I had a meeting to get to, and, let's face it, my phone's camera wasn't going to capture that beauty. By the time I reached my destination, the scene had faded and was mostly hidden by trees. 

I have come to notice that highways, for all their ugliness, also offer something that can be hard to come by in tree-filled New England: big skies. I often get to have my best views of sunsets, cloud formations, the moon and stars during drives. These little moments filled with beauty remind me to pause in appreciation and wonder. They transform the mundane and give me precious moments of spaciousness that I have learned to treasure. 

Yesterday's unexpected moment:

dancing light on the carpet.

5 Tishrei 5774 

A New Year and a Sabbatical Begins

L'Shanah Tovah! Happy New Year! It's 5774! 

And so my sabbatical year begins.

The Elul warm-up has come to an end, I celebrated two spacious and meaningful days of Rosh Hashanah followed by a lovely Shabbat, and now it's time for me to plunge in. 

I hope to structure my sabbatical loosely around the Hebrew calendar. (I also have a theme planned for October, just to mix things up.)  My plan is to have three layers to my sabbatical journey:

1) Daily Practice: I'd like to set some time aside each day for a variety of practices that give me a chance to reflect, create, and allow this journey to unfold (e.g. walks, collages or other art making, meditation, prayer, writing). I already began with posting my daily Elul practice, and hope to continue with something along those lines throughout the year, with a theme or intention for each month.

2) Projects: a number of projects have sat on the back burner for far too long (photo albums, scrapbooks, and long-promised handmade gifts top the list). Not only do I think I will enjoy working on them, but I also anticipate that I will feel much freer when I no longer have them hanging over my head. When my work schedule slows down starting in October, I hope to be able to devote one day a week to work on these projects.  

3) Home: I plan to focus on one room each month with the intention of decluttering and generally making our home more livable and presentable. I am starting with our newly reconfigured office.

Last week I sat down with a calendar and attempted to sketch out the year ahead. Much of it fell easily into place, but I never did manage to set a theme for Tishrei, the month that just began. And a week later, I still don't have one. So maybe, that is this month's theme:

Be Open, Something Will Surely Present Itself

A large mushroom spotted on a walk this afternoon.

3 Tishrei 5774